Most of the question was coughed and spit out as Rafael struggled to his hooves. His head was splitting and he had no idea of where he was or how he got wherever the hell he was. All he was aware of besides the pain and lingering dizziness was dry heat and a very loud growl nearby. His rifle was unslung and leveled on muscle memory, and as the shot echoed, Rafael was satisfied to hear the growl cut off with a yelp.
It came back, of course it did, so Rafael spit dirt and blood, and laughed in the direction of the sound. His vision was still blurry, but he hadn't relied solely on that to line up shots since he lost his right eye.
"I ain't dyin' here, son of a bitch. Let's see how much lead you can eat before ya drop." He squeezed the trigger again.
D was a superb rider, but there were hazards even he could not save a well-made cyborg horse from, and while he had emerged from the surprise encounter with a flight of harpies unscathed, his horse had not been so fortunate. Which was how he came to be walking along carrying saddle and saddlebags over his long coat, his hat shielding his face from the sun.
He heard the sound of a predator, and something with hooves struggling to its feat. Speaking, too, though D could not have foreseen the odd sight that would greet him amid the sound of low-yield gunpowder. With speed that should not have belonged to anything with two legs, D closed the rest of the distance to slice through the furry, mutant predator with a swing of his sword that looked more like a flash of silver than anything else.
A centaur. D had never seen one quite like this. The Nobility were known for using science and dark magic to recreate beasts of myth, but few achieved such a flawless level of craftsmanship. Perhaps a lost herd of them had kept to themselves somewhere, as there were few vampires left to engage in such experiments. D wasn't quite sure. He had hoped to rescue someone with a horse and to secure some transportation for himself, but now, faced with a man who was his own horse, he wasn't quite sure what to do.
"You should be more careful." The weapon the centaur was holding was exceptionally low-tech, lower, even, than most of the frontier with their makeshift mix of things like horse and carriage and salvaged technology from Nobles or the budding resurgence of human-made technology.
The arrival of someone else, even if Rafael couldn't make out much besides tall and bipedal, was something of a relief. In spite of the boast, his supply of bullets was very finite, and if two rounds hadn't taken the thing out, who knows how many it would have done.
He squinted in the direction of the stranger. His vision was starting to clear, at least, although the headache was redubling its efforts. Then the comment made him snort a laugh. "You don't say, stranger," he drawled as he let the rifle lower to a position where he wasn't threatening, but could still get it up again if something else jumped out snarling.
With a few blinks, and squinting against the light, he turned a careful circle to take in the surroundings. He spotted the disturbance his own movements had made easily enough, and the tracks of the... monster was the only word he had for it. And the tracks of the stranger. But nothing else that he could make out as sign of vehicles or moving bodies. Like he'd been dropped right out of the sky somehow. Far cry from what he'd expect men he'd made enemies of to do as some kind of half-baked revenge.
No point in wondering about that without any clues yet, and he did have someone here who didn't want him dead right away, so he'd started out with less before. He stopped his circle to face the stranger and turned up the charm. "But bullets are worth more 'n their weight in gold out here. Who do I owe thanks to for saving me more than I could probably spare?"
Aside from a split lip, and unfortunate coating of dirt, Rafael didn't look injured so much as dazed. His clothes were worn, but well cared for, decent shirt under a leather coat, and a necklace of turquoise hinting at some income. The kind of income being clear, well, that depended on whether the star-shaped badge that looked like it'd been shot through at least once was recognizable. He didn't look like he'd been robbed either, what with the rifle, a pistol mostly hidden by the jacket, and full packs strapped to his withers.
Thousands of years ago, one of their agents had sabotaged a scouting mission, and returned to make sure the planet stayed off the Empire's radar. Thace didn't know why, but he knew it was his turn to do the same. Sabotaging the ship, its compliment of fighters, and the robotic sentries had been simple enough. Most of the crew had been unprepared, but there was always one. Below him in combat skill, but not in programming.
Thace flicked blood away from his blade, favoring a burn on his left side from a stray shot, and indulged in punching the screen in frustration. No way to get escape pods engaged now, and he'd arranged for a deteriorating orbit. A rapid one, as alarms began to throb throughout the bridge.
The hull would keep him from frying as the atmosphere ignited around them, as long as he didn't leave the ship. But the generators would blow out attempting to compensate, and g-forces could very well crush him if he stayed inside. Only a small chance of survival, but he had a mission to finish. There was a little time left, and no reason not to try.
From the planet below, the ship was already visible as a something like a shooting star. It wasn't breaking up like most meteors would, and leaving a clear trail to the site of impact. A few hundred feet up, however, something changed, and one side of it exploded outward. Something far smaller, but flaming and smoking, came free and teetered in an unsteady arc away from the main wreckage to come in on a more forgiving angle to crash some distance away.
When the motion stopped, Thace took some time to brace himself, and started prying his way out of the fighter's cockpit with a glowing sword. It had served its purpose as a second line of defense against the forces of the crash (and triggering a few others to overload and explode had provided propulsion to escape) but now it could become his tomb if he didn't get out quickly.
A crashing spaceship. It really wasn't his business, speaking literally, but as he'd just completed his business of hunting vampires, and didn't have another job lined up just yet, D could spare the time to investigate. The ship was burning up too much for even his keen eyes to make out the details, so it could belong to one of the Nobility who fled to space and who now returned to Earth to seek out the comfort of familiar soil.
D turned his cyborg horse and took off in the direction of the crash. It would draw all kinds of attention, from the scattered town governments of the frontier to scavengers and bandits looking to cash in on some easily salvaged high tech. The most intact piece would be whatever had been launched or blown from the larger ship as perhaps a last ditch effort at escape, it was also, conveniently, far closer than the flaming wreck of the main ship.
He didn't slow down as he approached. Though the sun was setting it was a few hours away still, an if there was a surviving vampire, it would not be wise to give it a chance to flee and find a place to hide before sunrise.
Thace was glad for his armor and mask, because even as he worked he could see smoke starting to gather. He wouldn't have to worry about breathing toxins on top of everything else. His blade was up to the task, but not up to it quickly so Thace had to pry and cut away in stages to finally break the hinges and kick his way out.
Once he made it to somewhat of a safe distance in case something blew, Thace indulged in sitting down with his back to a decent sized outcropping of rock and even disengaged the mask. Even on the more ravaged planets, real atmosphere always had an almost heady freshness to it, and he wasn't going to pass on that while he rested and figured out what to do next.
The approaching figure wasn't much of a surprise (really, Thace half expected an armed force, but there didn't seem to be much population around) so Thace just waited where he was. The rest of his species aside, he wasn't here to be violent, so if violence came, it was not going to be because he started it. He sat with elbows braced on his knees, sword sheathed at his hip, and hood drawn up. It didn't obscure his face much, but it did provide a little relief from the setting sun.
Immediately obvious was great height, and distinctly lanky non-human proportions, and purple fur underneath futuristic armor that also had glowing blue-violet markings.
As the figure drew into what he figured was hearing distance, Thace decided to test the translator. Every language sample agents ended up coming across was synced across the whole organization, but Thace didn't know how complete (or how much language might have shifted over time) this sample was.
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no subject
Most of the question was coughed and spit out as Rafael struggled to his hooves. His head was splitting and he had no idea of where he was or how he got wherever the hell he was. All he was aware of besides the pain and lingering dizziness was dry heat and a very loud growl nearby. His rifle was unslung and leveled on muscle memory, and as the shot echoed, Rafael was satisfied to hear the growl cut off with a yelp.
It came back, of course it did, so Rafael spit dirt and blood, and laughed in the direction of the sound. His vision was still blurry, but he hadn't relied solely on that to line up shots since he lost his right eye.
"I ain't dyin' here, son of a bitch. Let's see how much lead you can eat before ya drop." He squeezed the trigger again.
no subject
He heard the sound of a predator, and something with hooves struggling to its feat. Speaking, too, though D could not have foreseen the odd sight that would greet him amid the sound of low-yield gunpowder. With speed that should not have belonged to anything with two legs, D closed the rest of the distance to slice through the furry, mutant predator with a swing of his sword that looked more like a flash of silver than anything else.
A centaur. D had never seen one quite like this. The Nobility were known for using science and dark magic to recreate beasts of myth, but few achieved such a flawless level of craftsmanship. Perhaps a lost herd of them had kept to themselves somewhere, as there were few vampires left to engage in such experiments. D wasn't quite sure. He had hoped to rescue someone with a horse and to secure some transportation for himself, but now, faced with a man who was his own horse, he wasn't quite sure what to do.
"You should be more careful." The weapon the centaur was holding was exceptionally low-tech, lower, even, than most of the frontier with their makeshift mix of things like horse and carriage and salvaged technology from Nobles or the budding resurgence of human-made technology.
no subject
He squinted in the direction of the stranger. His vision was starting to clear, at least, although the headache was redubling its efforts. Then the comment made him snort a laugh. "You don't say, stranger," he drawled as he let the rifle lower to a position where he wasn't threatening, but could still get it up again if something else jumped out snarling.
With a few blinks, and squinting against the light, he turned a careful circle to take in the surroundings. He spotted the disturbance his own movements had made easily enough, and the tracks of the... monster was the only word he had for it. And the tracks of the stranger. But nothing else that he could make out as sign of vehicles or moving bodies. Like he'd been dropped right out of the sky somehow. Far cry from what he'd expect men he'd made enemies of to do as some kind of half-baked revenge.
No point in wondering about that without any clues yet, and he did have someone here who didn't want him dead right away, so he'd started out with less before. He stopped his circle to face the stranger and turned up the charm. "But bullets are worth more 'n their weight in gold out here. Who do I owe thanks to for saving me more than I could probably spare?"
Aside from a split lip, and unfortunate coating of dirt, Rafael didn't look injured so much as dazed. His clothes were worn, but well cared for, decent shirt under a leather coat, and a necklace of turquoise hinting at some income. The kind of income being clear, well, that depended on whether the star-shaped badge that looked like it'd been shot through at least once was recognizable. He didn't look like he'd been robbed either, what with the rifle, a pistol mostly hidden by the jacket, and full packs strapped to his withers.
no subject
Thace flicked blood away from his blade, favoring a burn on his left side from a stray shot, and indulged in punching the screen in frustration. No way to get escape pods engaged now, and he'd arranged for a deteriorating orbit. A rapid one, as alarms began to throb throughout the bridge.
The hull would keep him from frying as the atmosphere ignited around them, as long as he didn't leave the ship. But the generators would blow out attempting to compensate, and g-forces could very well crush him if he stayed inside. Only a small chance of survival, but he had a mission to finish. There was a little time left, and no reason not to try.
From the planet below, the ship was already visible as a something like a shooting star. It wasn't breaking up like most meteors would, and leaving a clear trail to the site of impact. A few hundred feet up, however, something changed, and one side of it exploded outward. Something far smaller, but flaming and smoking, came free and teetered in an unsteady arc away from the main wreckage to come in on a more forgiving angle to crash some distance away.
When the motion stopped, Thace took some time to brace himself, and started prying his way out of the fighter's cockpit with a glowing sword. It had served its purpose as a second line of defense against the forces of the crash (and triggering a few others to overload and explode had provided propulsion to escape) but now it could become his tomb if he didn't get out quickly.
no subject
D turned his cyborg horse and took off in the direction of the crash. It would draw all kinds of attention, from the scattered town governments of the frontier to scavengers and bandits looking to cash in on some easily salvaged high tech. The most intact piece would be whatever had been launched or blown from the larger ship as perhaps a last ditch effort at escape, it was also, conveniently, far closer than the flaming wreck of the main ship.
He didn't slow down as he approached. Though the sun was setting it was a few hours away still, an if there was a surviving vampire, it would not be wise to give it a chance to flee and find a place to hide before sunrise.
no subject
Once he made it to somewhat of a safe distance in case something blew, Thace indulged in sitting down with his back to a decent sized outcropping of rock and even disengaged the mask. Even on the more ravaged planets, real atmosphere always had an almost heady freshness to it, and he wasn't going to pass on that while he rested and figured out what to do next.
The approaching figure wasn't much of a surprise (really, Thace half expected an armed force, but there didn't seem to be much population around) so Thace just waited where he was. The rest of his species aside, he wasn't here to be violent, so if violence came, it was not going to be because he started it. He sat with elbows braced on his knees, sword sheathed at his hip, and hood drawn up. It didn't obscure his face much, but it did provide a little relief from the setting sun.
Immediately obvious was great height, and distinctly lanky non-human proportions, and purple fur underneath futuristic armor that also had glowing blue-violet markings.
As the figure drew into what he figured was hearing distance, Thace decided to test the translator. Every language sample agents ended up coming across was synced across the whole organization, but Thace didn't know how complete (or how much language might have shifted over time) this sample was.
"Hello."