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Posted: Mon Jul 24, 2017 10:16 pm
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Sascha's hive was as it always was: a landfill. Sascha always did his due diligence to make sure nothing left among the stacks was perishable. Granted, his lusus did most of the legwork in that department. Still, over seven sweeps of hoarding, there was only so much Sascha could do to keep the dust at bay.
Well, other than get rid of the junk.
Sascha was attempting the next best solution. He gently nudged the piles around with a feather duster. Occasionally he'd stop to sneeze or stabilize the precariously stacked objects. There were perhaps more interesting things he could have been doing, even at such an early hour of the evening. Reasonably, he should have been sleeping. A proper day's rest had been eluding Sascha for a while now. After he'd last woken up, Sascha couldn't think of any other way to exhaust himself further without venturing out into the sun.
He must have been at this longer than he'd thought, Sascha realized. For someone to be at his door meant the sun was already down. Blearily, Sascha wiped an arm across his face and tossed the duster in a random direction.
He stumbled to the door, not fast enough to open it before Cerpin began talking. The sound of the purpleblood's voice gave Sascha pause and caused him to awaken somewhat. Cerpin was agitated. It was still a foreign state for Sascha to see him in. However, the rarity allowed Sascha to put two and two together. Perhaps it was more like one and one.
Sascha unbolted the door and opened it. He was wearing ratty sweatpants and nothing else. "This got anything to do with that red girl at the booths?" Sascha asked bluntly. He leaned in the door frame, not bothering to invite Cerpin in. His hive was no place for guests and Sascha knew it; though he showed no further sign of shame for his hovel.
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Posted: Tue Aug 01, 2017 12:55 am
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Posted: Wed Aug 30, 2017 2:11 pm
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It was odd to see the yellowblood in a jumpsuit uniform, as opposed to the flashy stuff he'd toured in during the competition prior. It fit the boy like a glove and Cerpin's eyes wandered over the various pockets. Tevini would've liked its functionality. He wondered if the pockets were filled with useful items like knives and bandages or random junk like ration wrappers and CD players.
"That works for me. Thanks for coming, Sash." The purpleblood patted Sascha's shoulder in gratitude. Cerpin tugged a motorcycle helmet on as Sascha secured his bag. Unfortunately, he only had one and since he would be driving, he was going to take it. If they got in a crash or something, the yellowblood could force debris away from himself or whatever. Getting comfortable on the seat, he nudged his head for the other boy to hold on behind him. This would have been much more enjoyable riding in a military vehicle but even Cerpin Sugall couldn't get his hands on one of those.
With that, the two of them sped off down the dusty roads of Chittentown, heading towards the outskirts. They nearly crashed into a couple of trolls trying to peddle their wares and had to slow down numerous times to wade through busier parts of the city. Cerpin let out a huff of annoyance at the crowds. He had work to do and didn't enjoy stop and go traffic that wasted the moonlit hours.
He hollered at a frustrated couple trying to cross in front of him. They shuffled through the intersection as slowly as possible as petty revenge. The motorcycle roared aggressively once they were through and Cerpin gunned the motor the rest of the way out of town. That could have also been a product of Cerpin's inexperience driving the machine. He'd only had a chance to use it a handful of times before this trip.
"Finally, open road. I'm gonna take us a couple miles out before we start messing around off road." He called back loudly over his shoulder to his companion. "Keep your eyes peeled for any massive metallic things that don't look like hives. Let me know if you see anything!" He turned his vision forward again, not paying much attention to the road behind them. Cerpin kept glancing to the side, squinting to see any clues of rocketships or exploded debris.
He completely missed the grease covered, sun burnt gang of raiders poking their head out after hearing the sound of a loud flashy motorbike coming their way...
seekingCylem feel free to ******** up these raiders pre-emptively, yell insults at them or whatever, or i can have them attack in my next post!
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Posted: Sun Oct 15, 2017 9:33 pm
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"Yeah, yeah," Sascha muttered, displaying some level of discomfort with the sincerity of Cerpin's words. He shifted until he was content with the amount of space between himself, the luggage, and Cerpin and wrapped his arms around the latter.
Sascha found himself grateful Cerpin didn't have backsweeping horns. The arrangement on the bike was already proving to be precarious as Cerpin swerved through traffic on the top-heavy vehicle. Eventually they escaped the walls of Chittentown and hit the open road. Sascha found the speed far less harrowing than muddling about between pedestrians. "Sure thing! You're the one driving!" Sascha shouted back. He was fortunate Lorata had provided him with those fancy shades. Between the wind, sand and his own hair, it was harder to spot anything in the wide, empty space than one would have anticipated.
However, the vastness of the desert made anything that wasn't explicitly sand or sky stand out like a busted horn. Sascha's eyes narrowed as he tried to understand the distant specks over the dunes. Orange horns caught the moonlight and Sascha snarled. "We've got company," he said, just over the roar of the engine, and knuckled Cerpin in the ribs.
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Posted: Mon Oct 30, 2017 9:36 pm
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The chaotic sounds of the crash Sascha orchestrated behind them were barely audible over the volume of the wind by this point. Cerpin could hear the yellowblood's shouting and nodded, squinting and scanning the area for any such cave or cranny they could hole up in. Unfortunately for them, visibility was greatly impaired. He was certain there was some kind of building on the horizon but it was pretty far off the road and he couldn't make out many details about it. In a couple of seconds, it was engulfed in the cloud.
"Hold on, we're going in!" He glanced back at Sascha and was relieved to see the other boy had figured out a makeshift mask to protect his lungs. Revving the engine, the two of them sped forward at the top speeds the motorcycle could offer. It was a good thing he had outfitted the bike with tires that could handle traveling on sand or they would have been in a s**t ton more trouble.
Even with a helmet on, it was almost impossible to see where he was going. His eyes and lungs were protected but there was too much sand blowing around in the air. They were effectively driving blind at this point, bee-lining straight towards a building Cerpin thought he had seen. He could only hope he wasn't driving them off a cliff into a desert canyon of some kind. The wind was so strong now that he could feel the resistance pushing against them violently as they pressed onwards.
A large dry branch from a dead tree flew past them, narrowly missing the bike. Cerpin swore, starting to panic and swerve the motorcycle to dodge loose debris flying about. The storm wasn't strong enough to rip boulders and toss them around but loose plant life and parts of abandoned hives were fair game. Blood pulsing through his body at an alarming rate, it was all the purpleblood could do to keep his hands tightly wrapped around the handlebars. His vision was getting hazier and hazier until he could barely see a few feet in front of him. Sascha was going to kill him for this if they survived.
"SASCHA!" He shouted, head whipping around a little too fast to look for his companion. The winds continued hitting against the building at top speed, shaking the entire thing like it was built out of cardboard. Cerpin was scared it was going to collapse on them after they'd broken some of its supports but he didn't know if it was better or worse outside. Spotting the yellowblood, he staggered over, yanking the helmet off of his own head. If Sascha could see, he might be able to keep the roof from crashing down and crushing them with any energy he had left. Whoever had built this place had left it empty without any tools to help them.
"Put it on!" Cerpin held his cape wrapped around his nose and mouth to protect against the clouds of sand pouring in through the newly created holes in the wall.
seekingCylem they have arrived at one of the construction practice structures outside of mahmud's abandoned hive! i cleared it with skyli and we have permission to explore inside mahmud's old place as well. : 3
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2017 1:56 pm
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The shades could only give so much protection against the sands. It was up to Cerpin and his motorcycle visor to guide the pair to safety. Sascha did what little he could to shield his face with Cerpin's shoulder.
The motorcycle swerved beneath the boys. There was no universe in which Sascha would have been able to predict the proximity of the approaching building. The ironclad grip Sascha had been maintaining around Cerpin's waist was wrenched open from the impact of the bike against the siding. Sascha ricocheted off the slanted ceiling of the structure and was caught across the torso by the makeshift rafters as he fell to the floor. Despite near unconsciousness, he rolled to his side and heaved spit and bile into the debris.
"What the...What the hell!" Sascha slurred in a tone that implied he was trying to make much more noise than he was actually producing. He groaned and curled in on himself. The sunglasses he'd been wearing had shattered, leaving a nasty stream of yellow cascading down his face. It had already become hideously sticky with sand. Sascha blearily looked up at Cerpin through the haze of physical trauma, dust, and blood. It took him a long moment to parse what was being asked of him. Withe effort, he took the helmet.
Sascha awkwardly hooked the rig around his skull. It had been adjusted for someone with horns in a wildly different position from his own. It fit well enough for its intended purposes, though, and had the benefit of muffling some of the raging winds. Sascha felt his clarity return albeit with a piercing headache.
He could see the construction of the building was crude, and the materials even more so. Proper wood was difficult to come by in the desert. Most of the materials appeared to be reclaimed. They were in less a hive and more a playhouse. However, that implied they weren't in complete wilderness. There was still a chance of a proper building being nearby. Sascha staggered to his feet and scanned their surroundings for- "Aha."
Sascha roughly grabbed Cerpin and pulled him close. With his other hand he pointed his open palm at his target. Part of the opposite wall was propped up with an enormous sheet of thick particle board. Sascha grunted against the pain in his skull and the board crackled red. With a crunch that displaced two corners and several nails, the board flew to Sascha. It rotated mid-air to shield the pair as the shanty slumped down under the pressure of the wind and lack of support. "C'mon! Move!" Sascha pulled Cerpin along by the shoulder as he ran out into the storm. The board shifted again as Sascha placed it between themselves and the wind. Both it and Sascha shuddered from the force. It gave them the protective bubble they needed to slog through the storm... At least for however long Sascha's powers would hold. Blood dripped from beneath the jaw of the helmet.
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Posted: Sun Nov 19, 2017 12:13 pm
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Sascha tumbled through the open door. He caught himself on the way down, but ended up skidding into a heap regardless. Cerpin staggered in after him and Sascha kicked the door shut with a crack. He didn't count on it holding with a busted lock, but Sascha would take any reduction of sand he could get.
He breathed heavily from his place on the floor. He didn't yet trust the relative silence and lack of biting wind. Eventually he found it within himself to struggle at least enough to prop himself up off the floor. Cerpin's words nearly surprised him into falling over again. Clumsily, Sascha unbuckled the helmet. It fell to the floor and wobbled some distance. More sand collected in a pile where Sascha sat. His hair was a ratty mess. His face was a nigh indiscernible wash of blood and sand, though the primary offenders seemed to be his hairline and nose. His sclera were bright red with stress.
Sascha wiped his forearm under his nose, only further smearing yellow across his face and sleeve. "Yeah..." Sascha replied, unsure what to say about the situation. It wasn't like him to care about the comfort of other people. At least the last time he had an especially harrowing experience he was too comatose to deal with the brunt of the ensuing emotional fallout.
This wasn't nearly as bad, however. It gave Sascha comfort. They weren't going to die here. He was filthy and in pain, but ultimately alive and unbroken. Probably. He had been thrown from a motorcycle into a building. Sascha stumbled onto all fours with a pained groan. "This place's gotta have an ablution basin or something. Just gotta... clean out this head wound..." God, he hadn't even stood up yet and the world was already pitching sideways. Was the wind really this strong?
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