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legionworld2017-06-08 11:25 pm
legionnpcs) wrote in legionworld2017-06-08 11:25 pm
THE MIND SLAYER
Who| Plot Participants
What| Psychic Assassins!
Where| On Legion World
When|
Warnings/Notes| N/A
THE MIND SLAYER
She's been setting this up for weeks now. It's almost too easy with how trusting these Legion fools can be. If they'd only taken her seriously, if they hadn't laughed at her then... Well, things would be different. Now they'd welcome her with open arms. After she killed a few of them, of course.
This has to be done up close. She'd taken a job as a waitress in the mess halls. The older Legion, the ones who'd been at her tryout, didn't even recognize her. They deserved this more than their replacements. She almost feels sorry for them. But, no, she had to move before Saturn Queen went to trial in a few days. Meta, Esper, she's Esper now, can't risk any more time. If it's to be done, it has to be done now. She'd rather be further away, but her mental range isn't as long as she'd like. Tucked away into a dark corner of Legion World, she stood across from her costume. Heroes wore costumes, and she couldn't call herself that while doing this, but she could still draw strength from it.
She watches it, imagining how she'll look in it, and shivers. Nerves, she tells herself, glancing at the trigger device in her hands. "I'm sorry," Esper whispers. "But I deserve this." With the press of a button, the nanofactories kick into high gear and, for over a dozen Legionnaires, the lights go out. Whatever they're doing, their physical bodies instantly collapse and slump over, as if they're in a coma. Anyone coming too close, entering her psychic range, joins them.
They awaken almost instantly, finding themselves in a hellish amalgam. Parts of their worlds slammed together to make some twisted patchwork reality. And, like Oz himself, Esper's head appears above them, smiling with forced confidence. "You deserve to know what's happening, Legionnaires. My name is Esper! And you're locked into your own mindscapes. I've seeded you with teletechnology designed to tear your minds apart! It will be painless, mostly, but the weakest among you will fall to your own memories as my machines convince your subconscious that you shouldn't be alive." She drifts back a little, examining the group. "And, linked like this, if one of you falls, all of you die. Don't resist and make it more painful for yourselves. Just surrender and make it painless and easy for your friends. And don't try anything stupid. I'll be watching."
With that, she slides out, making sure her mindfield keeps people away from this section of Legion World, and that those who are still awake haven't noticed the heroes dropping like flies.
But she'll be back. And her machines have already set to work.
[[If you wish to have your characters discuss matters, set up your comments in the mingle post! Otherwise, make new toplevels for every mental scenario you'll work with.]]
What| Psychic Assassins!
Where| On Legion World
When|
Warnings/Notes| N/A
THE MIND SLAYER
She's been setting this up for weeks now. It's almost too easy with how trusting these Legion fools can be. If they'd only taken her seriously, if they hadn't laughed at her then... Well, things would be different. Now they'd welcome her with open arms. After she killed a few of them, of course.
This has to be done up close. She'd taken a job as a waitress in the mess halls. The older Legion, the ones who'd been at her tryout, didn't even recognize her. They deserved this more than their replacements. She almost feels sorry for them. But, no, she had to move before Saturn Queen went to trial in a few days. Meta, Esper, she's Esper now, can't risk any more time. If it's to be done, it has to be done now. She'd rather be further away, but her mental range isn't as long as she'd like. Tucked away into a dark corner of Legion World, she stood across from her costume. Heroes wore costumes, and she couldn't call herself that while doing this, but she could still draw strength from it.
She watches it, imagining how she'll look in it, and shivers. Nerves, she tells herself, glancing at the trigger device in her hands. "I'm sorry," Esper whispers. "But I deserve this." With the press of a button, the nanofactories kick into high gear and, for over a dozen Legionnaires, the lights go out. Whatever they're doing, their physical bodies instantly collapse and slump over, as if they're in a coma. Anyone coming too close, entering her psychic range, joins them.
They awaken almost instantly, finding themselves in a hellish amalgam. Parts of their worlds slammed together to make some twisted patchwork reality. And, like Oz himself, Esper's head appears above them, smiling with forced confidence. "You deserve to know what's happening, Legionnaires. My name is Esper! And you're locked into your own mindscapes. I've seeded you with teletechnology designed to tear your minds apart! It will be painless, mostly, but the weakest among you will fall to your own memories as my machines convince your subconscious that you shouldn't be alive." She drifts back a little, examining the group. "And, linked like this, if one of you falls, all of you die. Don't resist and make it more painful for yourselves. Just surrender and make it painless and easy for your friends. And don't try anything stupid. I'll be watching."
With that, she slides out, making sure her mindfield keeps people away from this section of Legion World, and that those who are still awake haven't noticed the heroes dropping like flies.
But she'll be back. And her machines have already set to work.
[[If you wish to have your characters discuss matters, set up your comments in the mingle post! Otherwise, make new toplevels for every mental scenario you'll work with.]]
The Desert
You know, since he was in between.
Tucker sat just inside the door of the desert alien temple, helmet hanging from his fingers. It was cooler to keep it on, but he wanted the fresh air even if it was stale here. On the wall, small little lines - four vertical and one diagonal cutting through them - were clustered in dozens, beside a Tucker was here, motherfuckers crudely sketched into the rock. He had been here a long, long time, long after the ration bars ran out, but good thing the assholes outside had enough to "share" before he had to resort to space rats or some shit.
Whatever, that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the echoing silence, the way he had pleaded over the goddamn airwaves for hours, for days, for weeks and no one got back to him. The way he had laughed a little at the beginning, made jokes, and those dwindled away to fear, to desperation.The way not one gave a shit. The way no one followed up, not even Church, or the reality that Caboose hadn't stumbled over him yet with that stupid fucking luck of his.
There was no one. It was pretty sad when the only people talking to you either threatened to blow your head off or was just yourself. And loneliness could break down the strongest of support beams.
He hated being alone, he realized. He fucking hated it, that people hadn't fucking cared enough to help him, hadn't even fucking thought of him--
Sand got into the worst places, too.
God, he was so fucking over the goddamn desert. It was bullshit, utter goddamn bullshit, and no one was coming. No one was fucking coming, no one was ever coming because they had all abandoned him. Assholes. Goddamn assholes, the government, the aliens, his teammates. The sword lit up in his hand as he shook it out, the helmet back on.
He was going to die in here anyway. Might as well go out like a bad ass and take as many of those assholes with their fancy ass turrets and big machines as he could, right?
The temple shook as he heard a round hit the door. Deep breath.
Time to go to war.
no subject
Which, in Garrus's mind, begged the question of why they brought so much ordinance to storm what looked like an abandoned temple in the middle of nowhere. Seemed a little excessive for breaching the door.
He's not complaining though. Sure, the gun emplacements made this risky, but everyone being so focused on the temple meant that no one had spotted the armored turian sneaking around their back lines. Whatever they were doing, they could keep it up. As far as he's concerned, all it does is give him an opportunity to find the mental generator and take it out.
At least, that's what he was thinking up until he saw a glint of familiar teal.
"Oh, hell ..." He mutters.