[Action | Open]

[oreooreo]

As far as beaches went, this one wasn’t the aesthetically pleasing kind. In fact it reminded him of the shores of the Lighthouse and consequently of the way he had felt last time he was there, despondent and quietly longing for something he had no way of reaching.

That Tower. It’s gravity was intense. Interesting, and familiar in a way he did not care for. Perhaps it was fate's cruel irony, but on the other hand it might have been a turn for the better. He reserved judgement for now and attempted to cut through the air with his left hand, an action that would usually open a portal to wherever he willed it. The movement produced nothing, but he didn't find himself surprised. For now at least, there was no discernible way home.

The Tower was also inaccessible for now, and while it was a concerning level of effort to put it out of his mind, he was successful in pushing it to the back of his mental checklist.

There were other questions to answer first. "Are those creatures hostile" was the most pressing one, since several lobstrosities were making their way toward him. They looked to be similar to scorpions and lobsters. Potentially venomous.

“Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum?”

“Yes,” He answered, unsheathing his bowie knife rather than drawing his handgun. In an unknown situation, conserving ammunition became a priority.

“Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick?”

If they’re hostile, incapacitate only.

As a group of them drew nearer, surrounding him, he assessed the situation and planned his sequence of attack. The nearest lobstrosity launched, swiping at him with a crushing claw which shattered the rock behind him as he evaded. He countered, attempting to slash at it to test the thickness of the outer shell. His knife didn’t cut through the carapace and another of the creatures now swiped at him. He dodged low. It’s claw flew over him and hit the first creature, smashing part of it’s armored side.

They seemed unintelligent, despite the use of language. Still without knowing the etiquette of this new place, he would not harm them any more than needed to get away. They didn’t move too quickly. He could evade the last one and outrun them.

As a third one approached, Yorolaie ran at it, weaving out of it’s way at the last moment in a feint as he ran past and sprinted away from the beach, toward the city.

Comments

[cromcruach]

The sound of angry buzzing soon replaced the querulous questioning of the lobstrocities. The source was soon evident: a huge blue and orange wasp was beating its wings over the hunched over body of some twisted beast. There was a person crouched over the creature, one hand on the thorax of the giant wasp, peering down at the mass of tangled fur and claws.

"Everywhere I go, it's mutants," Crom sighed, his voice low and heavy. It was bloody cold as well, but his mantle was warm enough for now, though he knew he'd need to find shelter soon. He pulled it a bit more closely around himself, burying into the thick foliage of moss, ferns, and mushrooms that sprouted from the heavy garment, making him look even more like a hillock than normal.

This action made him catch a glimpse of something in his blindspot, and he got to his feet. His staff was at the ready, and he felt the skin at the nape of his neck itch, ready to fruit.

"Coo-ee! Who's there? Are you bird, beast, or otherwise?"

Anthracite's wings buzzed in a hellish cacophony. Her stinger was at the ready, knife-long and glistening with blood from the creature she had already stung.