Scene #8282: Wave Collapse Tango

Owner	Pose
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	.BEGIN REPLAY ... There's a clip of an impressed whistle. "Ain't takin' any chances with th'thing, huh? Don't blame you, ha ha. Back up, now." The tumor collapses in on itself on first touch, a small plume of dark ash puffing out as more attacks rain upon it. There's a pause - unsettling silence. All at once, the remains pull back into the crack, and alongside a deep screech from within the planet itself a large, skeletal hand suddenly bursts out from where it was amidst a plume of lava. The ground at the tumor's location continues to crack and melt as the arm pulls itself out further. Though the form of it is definitely built upon a twenty-foot ashen skeleton, the torso and head are completely covered by a roiling mass of skulls - bubbling, staring, collapsing, all in the same shade and material as the rest of the bone. As it pulls completely out of the small patch of glowing slag, it stands for a second - sockets flash red skulls bubble and float off it enters a stance skulls approach at breakneck. It doesn't look friendly! .END REPLAY .CONTINUE PLAYBACK Flurry of action. Everyone has their weapons drawn and attention focused - take the initiative.
AME	AME stands within axe(?)-distance of the tumor as the monster emerges from the ground. Almost concerningly close. But she's combat-stanced, and looks more than ready. This is her status quo. "Legion. Spawns ads that spawn ads, but they're all melee. Really spammy. Don't let them overwhelm you- keep aggro on me." Curt, swift phrasing with little of the typical glitter and sucrose- all business.
Veve Joueur	As the monster reveals itself, Veve takes a step back in alarm, fog whistling out of her mask like a teapot. It's drier than she expected. Or, rather, the parts that she expected to be wet were dry, and the parts that should be dry were wet. Seeing the pustule burst into ash, rather than gore, is unsettling, in an indefinable way. Veve adjusts to the abstract horror of this wasteland planet and its monster quickly, however, teetering back to stability on stiff suited legs. Without any apparent motion from her, the swirling fog around her expands outwards rapidly, swallowing the battlefield in a damp white haze. In a moment, it clears, the wet chill still tangibly clinging to everyone's bodies. Distantly, as if being heard slowly approaching from down a long alleyway, the elites hear gritty bass tones layered under an indistinct warbling voice, words blended into noise by echo. Otherwise, from the elites' perspective, everything is as before. The skeleton, however, sees each person slightly away from their actual position, attacking and moving at slightly different angles than in reality. Attacking these illusions, and reacting to their attacks, is draining, abnormally more than it should be.
Father Berislav	Back up, now. In one fluid motion, the mech's hand retracts from the tumors and chemical thrusters fire up to force it backwards across the white sand. As Berislav had mentioned, he's downwind of Remee--the silvery cloud kicked up by Isaiah's movement should stay clear of her, for now. As it skids to a halt, the mech's hand reaches for its right thigh, dipping briefly below the red canvas. A pneumatic hiss sounds, followed by a heavy metallic click. In the blink of an eye, the mech holds a heavy revolver, grip wrapped with a long canvas strip. The gun is easily as large or larger than the average human being. The mech's index finger rests along the frame above the trigger guard, its body waiting, coiled in uncanny stillness. The spring uncoils all at once, at the emergence of the arm. A sound like three thunderstrikes. The cumbersome weapon bucks powerfully in Isaiah's metal hand, three rings of superheated gas briefly flaring outwards--blink and you'll miss it. The earth is struck, Berislav having aimed downwards to pierce it with those massive bullets. Sprays of sand shoot violently upward, in partially-molten globs. Skulls fly out, and Isaiah breaks into a sprint, reloading the revolver with printed bullets supplied through a feed on the inner wrist, alarmingly fast. A panel on the top of the mech's left shoulder opens. A swarm of target-seeking missiles screams through the air, looping around flying skulls to strike the mass itself.
Wisconsin	Denver flinches back as the PUSTULE reveals itself to actually be a SKELEMANS. Made of Skulls. Bones on bones on bones. "...Nope, don't like this." The cruiser slaps the glove back onto the hardsuit with a hiss of recirculating air, and in an instant her Rigging appears around her. A digital haze coalesces into a pair of hulls that float at her sides, the front and back halves of a ship. Turrets mounted on the decks swivel into place, and the distant sounds of turbines and engines coming up to speed rattle in the air around the ship girl. The young lady holds out her hands and yells. "VOLLEY, HO!" And a barrage of HE rounds start to pepper the skeleton, looking to blast bits from its form and muddle its approach, if it's trying to make one.
Ishirou	The /mass/ appears, and Ishirou's scanners are on it. The first matter of business is trying to identify its abilities, powers, and general strength versus the rest of them. The second is to try and learn about it and the connection with the below. However, that will likely come with recording the data it gathers and compiling it later...but he's not afraid to keep PROBING at the cancer. Ishirou wants to know more. However, activating the 'Options' he sends them out to Father Berislav. His will act like a power amplifier, firing its own missiles and lasers at whatever he targets, aiming to coordinate strikes and blows to make him have more effect. The other heads out towards Denver. It hovers around her, adding telemetry data and up-to-date information to assist in her attacks, adding some guidance to them. Ishirou himself soars higher, and releases a barrage of shots from the sky, aiming to keep the thing suppressed with a flood of bullets.
Kukuru	The tumor becomes a terrible ashen skeleton clawing its way out of the ground covered in yet more skulls, and Kukuru finally moves with something resembling an average person's walking speed to put herself between it and Denver. "Be careful, everyone!" She warns, sounding moderately concerned as the skulls start rushing at the group. Once it becomes clear they have a good chance to just get the first strike on the creature, though, Kukuru adjusts her stance accordingly. Namely, she gets low to the ground, oversized claws covering her hands as she scuttles forward. With nowhere clear to aim at just yet, she opts to throw herself right at its forward leg. She latches onto that leg with both claws, wrenching and twisting with her freakish strength to start trying to just break it in half. It's the least subtle way of approaching the problem, but it's the best one she has for the time being. "Call out if you need help, okay? I'll keep you all nice and healthy!"
Sleek Shimmer	Sleek Shimmer was ready to back away from the assaulted tumor even without being warned to do so. Her instincts HATE this desolate and hostile world that feels born from someone's twisted nightmare. So she really isn't all that surprised when a skeletal titan claws its way from the ground. No, instead of surprise, she makes a disgusted, exasperated snort. "Of course. Something ugly, desolate, and a mockery of life. Exactly what this whole place feels like." It is neither heartening or inspiring a foe. For her, this adventure is not panning out... But the young woman's eyes snap this way and that, taking in the sight of all her comrades. No, the adventure's not currently panning out very well for her, but neither is this situation one she can simply leave. "Have it your way then, boney!" Shimmer declares, dropping into a fighting stance. In a flurry of motion she batters away the storm of skulls that flew her way. Batters, if not outright shatters them in a whirlwind display of kicks, chops, knees, and elbow strikes, all the while advancing through the storm. All the while, the whitish power encasing her form intensifies, taking on a pearlescent sheen and increasingly green hue. As soon as she's up close, she plants a hand on the ground and uses it to push off the ground with ferocious speed, aiming a rising kick at the creature's left knee-cap with drilling winds raging around her the whole while!
AME	As it turns out, the axe(?) is at least in part an actual axe. What AME does before using it as one, however, is point it at the legion like a gun- it releases a bolt that coats the skeleton in an energy field. She throws herself behind the legion, taking advantage of it being weighed down with too much Kukuru, axeblade connects with its back, and the blue energy field around it collapses, crushing in on it. Coat it, get behind it, hit and collapse. Rinse and repeat. Well-rehearsed, like a dance. Waveform collapse tango.
Vantablitz Remnants	AhnLotus is already standing by with the oddly chosen survival axe; a telescoped, two-handed thing of carbon fibre and tungsten steel, meant for hacking through tree branches in the jungle, and enemy soldiers in a pinch. It's at odds in its mundanity, against the weave of iridescent black skin and gleaming tooth-white carapace over a human shape, and two sets of luridly glowing green eyes in the mask, but it's evidently chosen for a reason. When the big horrible monster bursts out of a cancerous, ashen tumour in the landscape, AhnLotus takes a sprint at it. Salt-sand puffs up in a cloudburst where they were, the crystalline sheen cracking in a score of places simultaneously between here and there. A white blur and green light trails arc sharply into the air and slide into an acrobatic barrel roll. A heavy blade spins swift, accelerating circles around them, the edge loudly cracking the sound barrier. Petals of blue flame scatter in the air behind. They crash down into the monster, and the axe-head buries itself with force enough to crack the handle. AnhLotus resolves overhead, momentum carrying them head-over-heels, tumbling smoothly over the monster's shoulder. Joined hands swivel deftly on the grip, turning bodily around, to plant joined heels against its back. Carapace peels back with toothy clicks, and liquid black spears plunge from the inner wrists into the monstrous hulk with slick, gory thumps. Invasive microbial colonization scours elemental carbon from the enemy, rupturing cells and stripping molecules, encoding patterns within itself and recirculating back into the whole.
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	The opening volley is vast. Smoking munitions and ashen bone fill the air, as visibility starts dropping from the shards and dust. Ishirou's scans, though, provide excellent tactical coverage even through it - and attacks strike true. The initial set of shots fired into the ground both damage a leg as it pulls out and destabilize its footing, providing an excellent opening for the close-range combatants. Mist and missile, wind and suppression - advances are covered, gnashing teeth kept at bay, axe and claw on burnt-out inhumanity. With the leg-shot previously dealt and the mass of an encroaching medic, Shimmer's rush smashes straight through the knee - leaving Kukuru to wrestle and toss the lower half of the leg far, far away. One axe strikes, sticks, and begins to be subsumed by the waves of skulls - until feet are planted and the consumption starts going both ways. As Lotus (DERIVES PATTERNS / ANALYZES / CONSUMES), she feels (CORRECT / CONTENT / CERTAIN) - (THIS IS THE PROPER WAY OF T- / THIS IS WHAT SHE SHOULD ALW- / THIS IS HOW EVERYTHING SHOU-) -a sudden blast of force from a collapse knocks the legion away from her and breaks the connection. The patterns she pulls back feel hungry, autonomous - likely capable of providing something akin to the broad-area skull attack currently in use. The crusher's hit causes it to collapse forward from the shorn leg, and Ishirou's calculations of that falling arc provide the perfect telemetry for Denver to fire a few rounds straight through its central mass. Ash plumes as it hits the ground, but holes start rapidly filling with even more of that amorphous mass of skull - and as it picks itself back up, the clouds released from the shots against it start compacting onto the skulls hovering around, forming bodies from the endless mass. The smaller legion begin bubbling with that same ever-shifting production of skulls, and start shifting into mid-range to provide more focused assaults against everyone nearby - tooth on flesh. The attacks are diverted, somewhat, by the afterimages in the fog - ain't that a relief. <J-IC-Scene> DRYCLEAN-SIGINT says, "One've the big legions, then, ha ha. Don't get bit too much."
Wisconsin	Once again, the ship girls are getting into fights in places without water, and once again, one of them wishes they could bring the ocean with them wherever. They'll have to talk with one of the big brain people about that. What IS clear is that Denver has to do some quick maneuvering to prevent the SLEKEMANS from stoving in one of her rigs. An exertion of energy to angle both her shields and her hull to blunt the attack, and the little cruiser is skipping away, out of range of the main assaults of the big Legion and works to start getting the right angle on the thing, while avoiding the smaller ones. She's still fast enough to scoot too and fro, while her main guns line up the shot. The cannons swivel into place, and start to fire more direct shots at joints, at clusters of skulls in Vulnerable Places. Denver doesn't have the raw firepower of Wisky, but she can for damn sure shoot up a skeleton thing.
Sleek Shimmer	The foxgirl warrior's a fast and nimble one. She lands on her feet easily and skids just a bit before breaking out into a blurring dash across the battlefield. Storms of skulls swoop at her and she zigs, zags, ducks this way and that, flowing smoothly through the storm like water around rocks in a stream. Her aura rages when the projectiles are too thickly concentrated to evade, smashing them to bits... though fragments make it through to strike at her skin, leaving nasty cuts. As soon as she gets beneath the thing though, Shimmer raises a hand. Once again her aura expands outwards in a ghostly display as ivory fangs fill the air around her like dozens of floating swords. This time though, they're all aimed UPWARDS! And with a snap of her fingers, the barrage is launched, phantom fangs rocketing upwards to rip and tear all over the bone titan's body!
Father Berislav	Don't get bit too much. Inside the cockpit, aglow in dim red light, Berislav furrows his brow. Is that how they spread, he wonders? The break-open revolver clicks back into one piece. Isaiah's left hand reaches backwards, legs still in a graceful sprint across the silvery dunes. Drawn from its back, having been shrouded in that red cloak, is a war pick with a haft long enough for a one or hand-and-a-half grip. It settles with clear familiarity into the silver machine's hand, the ends of tied wraps blowing in the wind. Teeth scrape against gleaming metal with a screech. The mech is aggressive, switching seamlessly from ranged combat to close-quarters. The war pick is rotated, blunt side of the head forward. Isaiah uses its speed to position itself parallel to their strikes, sliding past them with extra ease thanks to Veve's illusions. The pick doesn't look like much, slender of haft, small of head. But when the mech makes an opportunistic strike against one of the spawns, a rapidly expanding, invisible cone of aftershock blows across the silvery wastes to rip apart everything in its path--namely, the 'main guy,' as Ishirou had put it. The noise is like an oncoming hurricane. A quick application of thrusters strafes Isaiah around, cloak billowing, to get it clear of Ishirou's bombardment and attack from a different angle. Its right thumb spins the heavy revolver's cylinder, a whirrr rising briefly above the din of battle. A blisteringly fast six shots ensue, the entire cylinder cleared before its sprint starts up again. The first three bullets aim to tear through the center of mass and disrupt its undulation with stress at a different trajectory. The second three, however, explode on contact, setting whatever they touch ablaze and flinging molten shrapnel when they detonate.
Ishirou	Ishirou tries to bank, avoiding the mass of entities in his way. Unfortunately, there are too many to get away clean. On the OTHER hand, it is unfortunate for them he is too fast! Neither gets way cleaned, and damage is felt along the sides of the 'wings' of the flight unit. Ishirou is forced to correct his course. Ishirou does not leave flight form and instead buzzes the mass of creatures that are splitting off to make things trouble. During this, the OPTIONS shoot towards Kukuru and AME instead. AME's connecting itself to her weapons to start overcharging them. Kukuru's option hovers just over her shoulder, providing data directly to her mind, which acts more like instinct to her than directly telling her things. Several missiles fly off into the air over the horde of enemies. Some explode into shards of debris, aiming to rain down and tear through their outer bodies. This is immediately followed up by bigger missiles collecting in groups of them to blow them away, trying to thin their numbers out. This way, even if the second set of missiles doesn't finish them off, others nearby can. This pattern repeats as he coordinates with people so they're never in the direct line of fire.
Kukuru	"How tricky... You're a really tough one, aren't you?" Kukuru asks the skeletal creature with a curious tone in her voice as she rights herself after that toss, looking for more parts to grab onto and whittle away at. AME's blue field gets a questioning look, too, but as it's being used to hinder the skeleton, Kukuru isn't too concerned about what it could do to her as she steps forward again. ... Right into the legion of skulls trying to bite into her. "You're nothing like... Oh. No, that's not fair." Sighing softly to herself, Kukuru slams both of her claws into the ground/through the claws already biting with an underhanded motion, holding her position as she stares right at the main body of the beast. "Can any of you talk? Are you like the others back home?" Against her better judgment, Kukuru still finds it necessary to see if this skeletal thing truly is mindless, or capable of some kind of thought. It's a genuine question, too, although she doesn't necessarily wait for an answer. Everyone's counting on her, after all, and she's not going to let them down. Ishirou's even helping her with his cute robots, so of course she's going to make sure to fight hard alongside such things! But how's she supposed to work with robots that can shoot things? Biding her time, Kukuru glances at her claws, at the skulls chewing on her legs, and then she gets an idea! Instead of rushing forward, she instead digs her claws forward before swinging upwards hard, flinging whatever her claws can catch onto right at the main mass. Those skulls are the most obvious projectiles, of course, but she's also making sure to tear up some of the ground in a major way to fling an entire chunk of it at the skeletal creature. She doesn't stop there, though, as she swings her arms around in a huge windmilling motion before just flinging the claws themselves like a pair of oversized projectiles themselves!
Vantablitz Remnants	"Augh! What the hell?! Why is it--" "Mmm . . . that's strange. Can we--" "Dropping!" "There's a lot of them." "I can take them." "Then let's do that~" Feet sinking into the Leviathan, shin carapace groans and spreads, and fluid black blades split out into ashen flesh, skewering biting skulls and cutting them away from their toothy purchase in cracked enamel. AhnLotus flexes, braces against the monster, and kicks away at the moment of the blasting force. The two are hurled away at dramatic speed, Ahn crying out as the wind is driven from her chest, but her balance flows through Lotus and the two seamlessly twist end over end, catlike, and catch the ground with their paired hands, breaking salt with fingers, swinging bodies back down with acrobatic ukemi. The swarm of encroaching skulls is fended off by conservative means. Taking advantage of Veve's illusory fog masking their profile and confusing their sound, AhnLotus strafes wide circles around the main Legion, rapidly sprinting back and forth in alternating zigzags, winding steadily closer all the while. They leap over a diving bite, kick-step off a biting head with skull-crunching force, leap over two others and obliterate another minion with a revolving axe kick on landing. They pull forward on the heel, delivering a spinning back kick so quick it looks like a straight, directly through another, and lash out with an elbow strike into snap backhand in the other direction. Foot brought in sharply, knee bent and toes high, they spin with the momentum instead of resisting it, bringing a scythe-hand chop into the vertebral join of yet another fodder, tearing the skull free with puncturing fingers, and hurling it into the face of one more to distract it, running three steps forward and destroying it with a jumping knee strike, ploughing on towards the main target. Each strike is immaculate, with singular purpose, uncluttered thought, and ages of practice. Each strike is lethal, delivered with shattering force and consumptive touch, limbs squared in strength and viral-molecular death beneath every fingernail. "Gods that robot is so cool . . ." "Come now. Pay attention~" "Guh!" "Ishirou~ You know what I want~" "It's splitting, not multiplying! Clear the field a little more, then wear it down some more!"
AME	Waveform, collapse, tango. Rinse and repeat. AME is unbothered by every hit taken, unbothered by every hit she makes. The dance isn't to dodge- she's absorbing hit after hit, trying to attract the attention of every single skull. On the rare occasions that arm's free- the crusher is two-handed- her left arm deftly swats away only skulls aiming for its exposed upper half. Must be reflexive, the way she doesn't seem to notice or care about it happening. As Ishirou's support takes hold, ambiguously-sourced sunlight glares AME's monitor over. She's going to go all in.
Veve Joueur	Veve is focused on orchestrating the half dozen illusory fighters dancing around the skeleton, and forgets to actually move her own body to dodge. A skull bites down hard on her arm, tearing her suit and splintering the wood-like arm beneath. Veve's gasp of pain is silent, nearly unvocalized. Breaking the seal causes a plume of fog to spray out of the tear in her suit, enveloping the attacking skull with fog dense enough to drain its animating force in moments. Alongside that, the hazy contrails that Veve left across the path of the walk to the tumor begin drawing in towards the battle, though still too far away to be of any use. <J-IC-Scene> AME says, "Keep aggro on me, especially the little skulls. They've never been able to get past my plating, but they're not smart enough to stop trying." <J-IC-Scene> Veve Joueur says, "I can help keep them on you, AME, if you're sure you'll be okay." <J-IC-Scene> AME says, "Just think of me as the tank." Veve isn't entirely sure what AME means by that, but she understands "keep their attention on me". Right now, the most attention-grabbing thing on the battlefield is that large robot, so she should dim its prevalence in the enemies' perception. For each iteration of the legion, manipulate its view of the battlefield so that AME is in the center, remove the visual obstacles between them, make her the most appealing target.