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Run and Hide Again (A MGE story ft. Razgriz and Umbrale)

Razgriz

Shall we write beautiful stories together?
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Joined
Jan 27, 2011
*Tuesday, August 24, 3487. Location: Deseus, Daften Continent, Oman City. Time: 9:13am. Standard day on Deseus*

All around Oman City, the colonists in the Human Expansion Project awoke and went about their daily activities. Some ran the farms to help grow the crops, others worked in the factories to manufacture goods like chrome-steel and various plastics, and other still filled the other (perhaps less glorious) jobs that needed to be filled. From grocery vending to accounting to vehicular maintenance, it was like Earth had followed them here. Hover-cars traversed high in the sky, buildings were built taller instead of wider, leaving no danger to any animals on the ground intact and minimizing the environmental impact they had on the planet. It had been only a few years since the program's initiation, but already several major cities had been established on the surface, and more were being constructed with each passing day. The whole thing seemed like something their ancestors would have considered impossible: Flying cars, 100%-efficient renewable energy sources, and zero population growth among other things. Yes, it seemed like the humans really made a name for themselves; now able to traverse even the darkest reaches of space and colonize other worlds without damaging them like they had in the past. How far they had come from their admittedly barbaric and wasteful past selves.

The research crews initially were sent across the galaxy and beyond to investigate planets for habitation. Thanks to faster than light travel, or FTL travel for short, distances that would take trillions of years to cross could be covered in a minimum of five years; this naturally meant that humans would try to explore as much of the Milky Way as they could. It wasn't that Earth was bad; in fact, almost every environmental issue their ancestors had caused had been solved. It was merely the human drive for knowledge that led them to explore the stars for different worlds were they might even be able to live on. And with the progression of faster-than-light travel technology, they found that it was very much possible to do so. One research crew led by Dr. Marcus Stanislaus Braun stumbled across a very much Earth-like planet, down to the nearest molecule of air. Every test was conducted to determine its viability, and to their joy, it was deemed a more-than-suitable place for human inhabitants. More than thirty times the size of their home planet, the problem of natural heating was offset by increased proximity to its parent star. The oceans and other various water bodies were also determined to be almost purely fresh water with minimal salt contamination, a strange but very welcome occurrence. It did mean, however, that salt would have to be shipped back from Earth to this new colony; a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things, but still annoying nonetheless. The atmosphere? Same 78-21-1 mix as the Earth's, and with a comfortable surface pressure of 14.7 pounds per square inch, the populace wouldn't have to be using pressure suits to survive, unlike the poor saps that colonized Io. The crust? Extremely high amounts of osmium, iridium and several other precious metals deemed "rare" on Earth; the core was also determined via deep-penetrating resonant sonogram that it was a nickel-iron mix, meaning the steel industry would do quite well here. in almost every respect, this was Earth, only much, much larger and rich with ground, ripe for development. Within a year, several thousand volunteers had signed up for this new home and traveled to the planet named "Deseus". It would take several more years to get people settled in. But even then, there was an obstacle that would reveal itself to the humans trying to live on this strange new world.

Only a year after the humans had finished setting up colonies around this new planet, had they realized that they were not alone here. To say the local species was strange would be an understatement; almost all of them humanoid to a very large degree, they appeared to be anthropomorphized versions of their Earthly counterparts, and many of them seemed to be representations of mythological figures. There were mermaid-like creatures, strange part-insect ones, and a sighting of one that looked like a Minotaur. Initial surveys of these strange new creatures showed them to possess very high levels of intelligence and some members even possessed the capacity to speak English. They weren't openly hostile, unless a male or female of a species happened upon his/her mate conversing with a human. But even then, most of the conflicts were resolved peacefully. Soon enough, the project shifted from helping the humans adjust to the Super-Earth planet to integrating the humans and newly-deemed "Mamono" populations together. Most of them seemed relatively inviting in welcoming the humans to the planet, especially the females and others even allowed them to be studied in their natural environment, leading several groups to try and catalogue the various species of the planet in an attempt to understand them further. Further down the line, inter species marriages were taking place; it seemed like everything was getting better for betterment's sake. However, things would soon begin to change....For the worst.
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*Friday, July 3, 3586. Location: Deseus, Evugid Continent, Wahiba Sands Central Information Center, designation 'Echo Base'. Time: 1:56pm. Human disappearances continue to climb*

"Sir, Lieutenant Cowell from Nizwa just reported in; another six disappearances. Only males again: Four married, two single" First Comms Officer James Anderson said as he removed the black comm-visor from his head, turning a brown leather swivel seat to face the Base Commander. The Comm Officer was a stout man, about five-six but fairly built, his entire form in a bright blue bodysuit with red accents on the shoulders, wrists and neck. He rubbed his tired eyes as he waited for the Base Commander’s response. Anderson's duties included fielding all military-level between installations and ensuring the security and maintenance of the milnet, which had been going crazy due to the high volume of disappearances throughout the human towns. The Base Commander, one Dennis Ray Collins, pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation, staying silent for a few moments. His black locks were frazzled from trying to get results, but the abductions were just stressful nonsense. “This is just what we need” he groaned; a much taller man, he was a bit more on the lean side. His black and grey uniform cleanly pressed, his entire being screamed military upbringing. It normally took a lot to get under his skin, being a fairly neutral tempered man, but this was just too much. It was up to him to defend these people, and he was failing.

The abductions had been going on for almost three years now; husbands and men alike seemed to be abducted, never to be heard from again and the searches for their bodies turned to be just as fruitless. Some cities had been picked clean of residents, turning the settlements into nothing more than futuristic ghost towns. Even with the addition of extra security from troop deployments on Earth, the number of humans on the planet was decreasing. It was like nothing they were doing was working and this latest six brought the total number of abductions up to over fifty thousand; the human population was only about three hundred thousand strong on this planet, what with it still being a trial colony, so having a sixth of their total number abducted did not bode well. “What do we do, Sir?” Anderson then asked, along with everyone else as they turned to Luckily, though they were about to receive a fresh batch of over thirty thousand soldiers from the United Nations Space Corps, as the military forces here were spread quite thin. This would only be the first of three installments of troops to help defend their towns. Additional military bases had been quickly and efficiently assembled to accommodate the massive influx of military strength, so the troops would be good to go as soon as they landed.

And as if on cue, a voice played over the intercom, “Ground Control, Echo Base, this is the SSC Harbinger. We’re in geosynchronous orbit with your location, requesting permission to deploy shuttlecraft”. Harbinger was a Halcyon-class interplanetary transport cruiser, able to transport almost one hundred thousand people and various-sized cargo pieces comfortably. Anderson then asked the Commander, “Orders, Sir?” Collins just nodded and said, “Bring ‘em down. We need the bodies. Let’s get to work people, we have colonists to protect”. Anderson smiled and turned back to face the console, opening up the channel and replying, “Copy your last, Harbinger. You’re cleared to deploy shuttlecraft. Transferring you to a UNSC operator”. A short, red-haired man dressed in a similar fashion to Anderson soon took over, as his job was now truly beginning. The holoboards was soon alight with activity; requests for approach vectors were heralded, screens lit up with profiles of the units aboard each individual shuttle, and unit deployments were handed down from the Commander to the various shuttles. After about an hour of all this, the red-haired air traffic controller simply said, "No fucking way". This made Collins turn towards the Comm Officer and reply, "What is it, Anderson?" James then turned, removed his headset and said, “Sir, you’re not going to believe this. Three Delta Force regiments are here”. Collins was noticeably shocked; Delta Force? Why would the baddest of the military badasses be deployed here? Did the brass think the situation was that terrible? “Well, holy shit, Command’s really throwing us a bone here” Collins then replied, seeming stuck at what to say. However, he soon got his shit together and ordered the regiments be split up among the standard soldier ranks; each Delta Force soldier was a one-man army in and of him or herself, so having even a few of them in the forces meant to protect the towns would be a significant force multiplier. “Let’s just pray to god this is enough” Collins commented lowly. All across the planet, the large shuttles landed in the bases near towns, troops in standard UNSC infantry armor poured out and set themselves up. Among these newly organized platoons were Delta Force soldiers, dressed in very intimidating Devastator armor, seeming ready to go at the drop of a hat. Larger transports also touched down, deploying ATLAS mechanized war suits as supplemental armor. None of them expected just what it was they were supposed to protect the colonists from.
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*Thursday, March 22nd, 3640. Location: Deseus, Ilias Landmass, Onyx Town. Time: 7:42am Human forces attempting to hold off Mamono incursion for civilian evacuation*

“This is Hunter-One-Actual! We are getting overrun! I repeat, we are getting overrun! Request immediate air support! We have colonists that need evacuation!” Eighteen-year-old Delta Force Field Captain Jackson Whitelock was shouting into a radio over the sounds of gunfire. “Watch the left flank!” another soldier shouted as what looked like shadows darted back and forth. "They're surrounding us!" "Calm the fuck down and keep up the pressure!" "Watch your sectors!" A scream for help was heard from another soldier as the poor bastard was dragged away by the shadow figures deep into the surrounding forest. “Roger, Hunter One Actual. Ospreys are five minutes from your position, just sit tight!” was the traffic controller’s response. Jackson cursed, but replied, "Roger, we'll hold off as long as we can! Over and out!" GARDIAN shields had been deployed around the town to keep the creatures from abducting any of the colonists, leaving the soldiers to fend off the horde of attackers. They wouldn’t last long if they got attacked though, so the soldiers there had to fend them off for as long they could. It turned out Mamono were indeed responsible for the abductions; these half-human bastards had abducted the human males and taken them as husbands. The Mamono had also taken to abducting human women as well, but this was a far less prominent occurrence, as the males were quite obviously the primary target. A fair few turned out to be consensual relations, the pair having fled to hide where no one would find them, but a larger part were men being forcibly raped. And several captures of specimens and subsequent analysis by scientists trying to figure out why the Mamono were behaving so differently only led to them being raped as well. The policy had now shifted from trying to integrate Mamonos and humans to protecting those already in the colonies at any cost; the Mamono that were legally married to humans fell into protected category, as some had been killed by 'wild' Mamono to obtain mates. But all the others would face indiscriminate extermination should they prove to be hostile and approach any human settlements, which a lot of them seemed to be and do. This way had been going on for quite a few years now, and seemed to only get more and more intense as entire towns, their people and armed forces were ousted due to conflict. The number of occupied human cities was diminishing, as were the number of humans.

What made this battle worse was that these particular Mamono – glimpses of which revealed them to be Wolves – were fast and efficient pack-hunters, able to circumvent even the most hardened soldier's defenses and take him for themselves. Several men had been abducted already, but the humans seemed to be holding out; they’d “euthanized” several of the Wolves already, but this pack was particularly large and aggressive. “Hunter-One-Actual, this is Osprey Two-Zero. Designate target area” a voice then played over the radio; the soldier picked it up and replied, “Attack all targets north of orange smoke! You’re cleared hot!” Jackson then unhooked an L83A1 Target Marker and threw the metal canister over the boulder he’d been using as cover; orange flumes began billowing out, and two of the twin-rotored aircraft soon hovered above the battle scene. “We see it, engaging hostiles!” 30mm autocannons loaded with HE rounds soon erupted from the belly of the gunship, shredding the environment and enemies with equal prejudice. Howls could be heard as the massive guns ripped the Wolves to pieces, trees and ground being chewed to bits by the relentless barrage from the gunships. Two other Ospreys soon touched down and opened the bay doors, letting the civilians clamber inside. "Hunter-One-Actual, this is Osprey Two-One! All civilians are boarding now! Hold them off as long as you can!” Jackson replied heatedly, “Roger! Base Control, request ARCLIGHT incendiary strike!" “Acknowledged. ARCLIGHT bomber inbound. ETA three minutes”. Jackson then added, "Proceed to Killbox Three-Bravo! Attack direction west! Danger close! Burn it down!”

The battle raged on, gunfire and screams echoing across the increasingly destroyed landscape. "ARCLIGHT, two minutes out". A few more soldiers were abducted, but the Wolf presence was starting to noticeably lessen. “ARCLIGHT, one minute out” the bomber’s voice spoke over the radio; Jackson then shouted, “The heat’s coming! Get down!” “ARCLIGHT strike away. Impact in 5….4…..3…..2……Impact!” All surviving soldiers ducked; a whistling was heard before a series of massive airblasts rocked the area, setting the forest to the north ablaze from the incendiary liquid within. Poking their heads up, they could see the plumes of black smoke; no way anything survived that. But that didn't mean they wouldn't regroup and perform a counter-offensive strike. “Let’s go! Move out!” the field commander shouted; as soon as the soldiers were on-board, Onyx Town was soon left empty, echoing with the ghosts of this event, just like so many had been and were becoming across the planet. Just as they left, they could see even more Wolves attack from a different direction, only to find the town itself empty and without any prey to take for themselves. "Take that, you rotten fucks!" Jackson shouted as the bay doors finally closed, leaving his regiment of five and about thirty other civilians to rest. “Sir, just what the hell is going on?” one civilian asked Jackson as Onyx Town faded from view, to which the Delta Force soldier replied, “I don’t know, but with the way things have been……I wouldn't be surprised if we had to leave this planet altogether”.

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*Location: Evugid Continent, Zipangu Region, Diamond City. Time: 7:59am Non-abducted human population on Deseus down to 62% original size. Situation critical*

Over in Diamond City, the situation was FUBAR; all of the soldiers - thirty UNSC standard infantry and six Delta Force - except one were all abducted by these strange, humanoid creatures, along with all the male and female colonists. The one lone soldier, a standard grunt by the name of Zachary Cole Williams, UNSC Private First Class, stood with the M5A3 assault rifle shouldered, watching with unflinching determination as a single female came forth. Her slim yet curvaceous body clothed in what appeared to be a traditional red-orange Chinese qipao decorated with artistic depictions of golden leafy vines, a slit at the side to reveal a well-formed, creamy-fleshed thigh and a cutout at her chest revealing an ample amount of cleavage. Her blond locks fell down to her back, while at the top of her head sat two ears, like those of a fox. Her golden brown hues focused on him and him alone as she drew closer, two fluffy, blonde-colored tails flowing elegantly behind her; the young man thought she was going to kidnap him and do unspeakable things to him. And with these thoughts in mind, the mind killer known as fear began to creep within him, making his once unbreakable resolution start to falter under her eerily calm gaze.

"S.....stay...back...." Zachary stuttered, feeling the fear well up within him, his eyes - hidden by the visored helmet he wore - widening in fright and making his grip on the gun shaky; before long, her ample chest was but mere inches from the muzzle of the rifle. But for some reason, the young soldier just couldn't pull the trigger; he tried to mask his fear, saying "Ge...get away....I'll shoot....". The fox-woman, the ears and tail being the only fox-like traits about her, smiled and giggled before replying sweetly, "No you won't darling......If you really wanted to kill me, you would have done so already..." A forefinger then raised up slightly and its tip pushed the barrel down and away, leaving the fear-frozen man standing there. Another sweet giggle was heard as her slender arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, her bountiful chest pressing against his own and her melodic voice adding, "Sshhhh, it's alright.....There's no need to be afraid, sweety. I can show you pleasures no human woman could even fathom. All you have to do....is give in and be mine and mine alone. And in return, I'll happily be your woman". As if to add more comfort, her soft-furred tails wrapped around them both, her magic radiating from them in waves, working to soothe this man and convince him of her sincerity.

Zach instantly felt the tension melt away, his once vice-like grip on the weapon loosening and letting the rifle drop with a clatter from his hand. The woman smiled and said, "That's a good boy; but I wanna see this pretty face of yours...." Her delicate hands reached up and gently lifted the helmet from his head; beneath lay the face of a man who came from good genes. Strong jaw, taut cheekbones, bright vibrant hair and eyes blue as the skies above, a perfect ten in her eyes. A satisfied smirk now crossed her lips as she casually cast the helmet aside, "Just as I thought....A child born from parents of the higher echelons of society......Yes, you are perfect....Let's find somewhere more private, shall we? Wouldn't want any of these lesser peons to steal my prize, and surely you won't want anyone other than me, right?". Zachary simply nodded, now completely entranced by this woman's beauty and words, the fear that once mercilessly gripped his heart now gone. "Excellent....Off we go, then" was her final statement; a bright flash of light encased them and when it faded, they had vanished to locations unknown. Never to be seen or heard from again.

*Location: Daften Continent, Tzir Forest. Time: 2:43pm*

"Oh shit....oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" was all Patrick Svenson, former Assistant Director of Interspecies Studies, was saying as he ran with all the energy he could muster into the dense jungle of Tzir Grove. He was a lithe man, but not all skin and bones; his platinum hair was messy and frazzled, his once pristine laboratory uniform - a white lab coat, white button-up shirt with red necktie, black slacks and polished black leather shoes - covered with grime, tears and scuff marks. His skin was lacerated in a few places from crashing through thorn-saturated brush; the adrenaline seemed to be in infinite supply for him, even now his blood screamed in his ears, his mind pushing him on and on. His eyes, a light shade of green with hints of blue, were wide and scanning endlessly, searching his surroundings so as to hopefully catch any threats before they caught him. He'd taken off from the nearby town of Delia after his research laboratory had been assaulted by tall, dark-skinned females in loincloths with huge swords. They'd said something about letting the hunt commence; those words alone made him realize they were an Amazoness tribe. Even now, he could still hear his co-workers scream as they were taken away; he'd hid in a locked supply closet until the coast was clear, then made a break for it. He'd since lost count of how many days he'd been running; however, that didn't even make him think of stopping. He just prayed he could lose any pursuers in this thick brush; then he'd be in the clear.

He then felt himself trip over something; he landed with a loud grunt as he fell onto his face and just laid there for a moment, not moving the slightest. "Ergggh...." he groaned out as he pushed himself; however, the panic rose in him again as he felt something thick wrap around his ankle and start to pull on him. "O...oh god, oh god! Someone! Anyone! H...help!" young Patrick shouted, his hands clawing at the dirt below him in a fruitless attempt to get away. His cries would go unanswered, but his struggling would not cease; even as he was lifted off the ground and into the air, his body thrashed, trying to free itself from the captor. He was then turned, his body hanging upside down around to face an enormous specimen of flora; its large pink petals were each about the length of an old-day SUV and the hemispherical base pod had to be at least seven feet wide and about five feet deep. Thorn-covered roots grew out, evenly spaced around the circumference of the stalk. "What on Earth....." Patrick said, pausing as the strange flower stood before him; he craned his neck forward to look and see that a vine from the base of the pod was what was holding onto him. His eyes widened in shock as the petals began to part; was this how he was going to die? Being eaten by a carnivorous plant? His eyes then closed shut as whimpers escaped his lips and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he continued to try and break free; he didn't want to see his own death coming at him, it was just too much to handle.

As the minutes passed, nothing happened to him; it wasn't until he heard "Alraune.....?", the voice itself soft and non-provocative, that he opened his eyes. What stood before him was something he'd never seen before....Inside the flower was not rows and columns of razor-sharp teeth, but a beautiful woman. The woman's expression was one of concern and puzzlement, as if wondering why he was struggling; her violet hues, though, were captivating and comforting, seeming to assure the researcher that no harm would come to him. It wasn't long before his struggles stopped; he then broke his stupefied stare to look at the rest of her body. Her skin green as the leaves of a tree, every inch of her just under five and a half foot figure was sinfully curvaceous, a good portion of it covered in leafy vines as well. She seemed to be standing in amber liquid, the level reaching about midway up her nicely plump thighs; in fact, her body seemed to be covered in it, as her flesh was quite shiny and reflected the late afternoon sunlight, giving her a very healthy looking glow. Her C-cup breasts were exposed to him, revealing emerald-green nipples and areola and what hat looked like a beautiful rose laid in her waist-length green-yellow locks. "Alraune...." the plant-woman said; this time, a subtle yet very intoxicating scent began to fill the air, flooding Patrick's nostrils and slowly making the rest of his tension disappear and replace it with a growing lust.

Two more vines then appeared from the base of the pod and began to undress him; strangely, even though his clothing was tattered and torn, she took it off of his body with the utmost care and precision. Within minutes, everything he'd been wearing had been neatly folded and placed beside her pod; the two new vines then proceeded to turn the man right side up and draw him into her flower, Patrick felt the warm liquid coat his legs as he was placed in front of her, the level reaching just above his knees. The woman then drew closer to him, pressing her naked, slippery form gently against his body as she ground her hips on his slowly stiffening manhood. Her slender arms wrapped around his shoulders as she then drew in for a heated kiss, her soft mounds pressing against his chest and her hardened nipples rubbing on his now nectar-soaked skin; Patrick could feel what was easily the sweetest liquid he'd ever partaken in coat every inch of his mouth. When the kiss was over, she pulled back to look up at him, a smile now very much present on that cute face of hers. Patrick then embraced her and kissed her again, submitting to her unspoken desire and will. The petals then shook and came to life, drawing up and sealing them inside for the rest of his days.
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*Saturday, August 10, 3644. Location: Deseus, Evugid Continent, Zipangu Region, Thunder City Command Base. Time: 6:42pm Human population down to 23% of its original size. Colonization of Planet Deseus deemed failure. Planetwide Evacuation at 99.9% completion….*

Two years........for two whole freaking years this war against the Mamono had gone on; the humans that had not been captured were escorted off the planet in droves via shuttle. Evacuation sites had been pre-established, where the shuttles would land under heavy guard and quickly take off. One such location was the Thunder City Command Base, where the last set of colonists was ready to be evacuated. Jackson Whitelock himself, now twenty years old and a Delta Force Lieutenant for his valorous defense of Onyx Town, stood in full Devastator armor, Reaper rifle charged and at the ready. He saw the fear in these people's eyes; he felt bad for these people. They just wanted to experience life on a new planet, and all this shit happened. They came here hoping to experience being on a different world, but this was a cruel reminder that the galaxy could be very unforgiving and that humanity was still new to all this. A lot made to this particular evac station, but the soldiers present knew that there were still a lot missing. Rumors even circulated that a fair chunk abandoned a chance to return home to actually live with these things...Course, those were just rumors, but deep down they knew at least five to ten percent actually chose that. Why they did was anyone's guess; that just meant their names would be crossed off from the registry and all personal data expunged and cleaned out. Like they never even existed...Officially.

Soon, the final civilian and infantry shuttles took off, the roof panels sliding back into place and leaving the remaining six Delta Force soldiers to wait for their own ride. They would be on lock-down until evac arrived to pick them up. "Well, holy shit, can't believe that's the last of 'em. A lot more than I thought there would be" a fellow Delta Force soldier commented, a Graver Machine Gun resting on his armored shoulder and his eyes following the shuttle as it soon disappeared into orbit. "Yeah, well, once we're off this rock, first round's on me" Jackson replied; he already wished he was home. Hell, he wished he was home two years ago after being in this mess. Oddly enough, he'd re-enlist after this tour was over, just not if he had to come back here. "Hell no, Whitelock, I'm buying the first round. After how much ass you kicked at Onyx Town, you deserve it" A third Delta Force added, clapping Jackson on the back. Still, there was a bit of a solemn tone; a few weeks ago, their Squad Captain got ambushed on a solo op. He was never found, not even with aerial scans. But to lift their spirits a little, a voice played over the radio, "Delta Force, This is Viper-Two-Two. We'll be there in five, just sit tight" Whoops of joy were heard from the soldiers, each getting antsy at the thought of finally getting out of here.

However, their victory party was cut short when a loud "BANG!" resonated at the front metal door, forcing all of them to turn sharply. There was a huge dent that hadn't been there, before; naturally, all of them readied their weapons. "Bolsov, Williams, get into the ATLAS suits. Now" Whitelock commanded; a nod from the soldiers was all that he received before the mechanized armor was online, weapon systems at the ready. This was the only two they had, and Bolsov and Williams were the best pilots Delta Force had to offer. More bangs were heard, the dent in the giant chrome-steel door growing larger and larger with each hit. The tension grew so thick one could cut it with a knife, each soldier's finger resting on the trigger ready to pull at a moment's notice. But then, the banging stopped.....No low strength hits, it just stopped. That didn't make them any less uneasy, heads turning trying to see where whatever the hell that was could have going. After a few minutes, Jackson took the opportunity and activated his earbud, saying "Viper-Two-Two, we need you here double-time...."

However, a final thud had sounded and the once-indestructible door now had a truck-sized hole in it. A group of four very large, muscular women holding giant metal clubs walked in, small horns growing out of their foreheads; these were a group of Oni, all of the Delta Force soldiers just froze in fear. What the hell were these things?. The one in the middle, possessing dark-red skin and dressed in what appeared to be animal skins, took a deep breath through her nose and said with a wide, toothy smile, "Well, well, lots of strong males here. Fine children we will have". This was all it took for Jackson to say, "Delta Force! Open fire!" Machine gun and rifle burst out; however, the Oni women didn't seem to be fazed. "Take them, sisters!" the one in the middle shouted. "Bolsov! Williams!" Jackson shouted; the two ATLAS mechs charged in, tangling directly with two of the women. Within moments, the heavy-locked back door was forced open and they now had an exit "Come on, come on!" Jackson said, waving his remaining crew through the back door. Jackson would not follow; instead he turned back around and went to assist the ATLAS pilots, who were currently getting their asses kicked. Jackson's armor pounded heavily on the ground as he strode in, firing his rifle to try and get the Oni's attention. It worked on one of them, who noticed a relatively unprotected human and went to reach for him; however, Williams then clocked her in the back of the head and rendered the woman unconscious. "THAT WAS MY SISTER!" another shouted, and jumped on top of the ATLAS. "Big mistake, dyke. This one's for Marcus!" Williams growled; a button was pushed and the entire mech's surface became electrified, shocking the Oni until she let go and slumped to the floor. This made the other Oni stop and strongly reconsider; they grabbed their unconscious siblings and pulled them out of danger. "Quick! While they're regrouping!" Jackson said and led them toward the rear entrance. Bolsov's ATLAS, a heavier "Prime" variant whereas Williams' was an "A" variant, crashed through the wall, opening the entrance up even further.

The shuttle had landed in a large grassy field, having been instructed to take a secondary landing zone as the first was compromised. It was just finishing boarding the Delta Force members and was about to take off; the other soldiers though saw the two mechs and Jackson striding towards them. "Hold up, hold up, here they come!" one of them shouted; it only took a minute to get Bolsov and Williams out and into the shuttle. The first of them quickly rushed aboard when a loud shrieking was heard, the suits having been abandoned as they tried to get aboard as fast as possible. More Wolves seemed to stride out from nowhere. HUNDREDS of them, and they were soon all over the shuttle, trying to claw their way inside. What was worse, one of the Oni from before was charging at them. Jackson then did the unthinkable; after shoving Williams and Kinsey inside the shuttle, he boarded one of the ATLAS suits and activated it, the mechanized battle titan roaring back to life and going to work. Within moments, the Wolves were thrown clean off, the mech's massive strength more than a match for them. The shuttle now was out of the Wolves' and Oni's reach, but that wasn't the challenge; the real challenge would be the Oni that was gaining on them, clearly running straight for Jackson. "Whitelock! What are you doing, comrade!" Bolsov shouted at him through his earpiece; Jackson just said, "Saving your asses! Now go!" Warrant Officer Williams then replied, the desperation very much evident in his voice "No! We're not leaving you behind! Viper-Two-Two, hold your position! Delta Squad, fire!" Bolsov's gun erupted from the backhatch of the shuttle, soon to be joined by the rest of his squad. The Oni, unfazed by the aerial barrage, slammed into the ATLAS, trying to pin it down and tear out the human inside for her own pleasure. "This isn't up for....discussion, Bolsov! Pull out! I'll be fine! No sacrifice, no victory! Viper-Two-Two, ignore Officer Williams...nrgh... and get them the hell out of here! That's an order!" Kinsey's lip's quivered beneath his armored mask; he never thought someone would willingly leave themselves behind like this. Not to those monstrosities. And that sentiment was shared by the pilots and other Delta Force soldiers before they shot off into orbit, now out of the range of any Mamono wishing to capture a male. As their radios faded out, leaving the weakening signal behind, Jackson' voice played, "An...If one of.....tell Kayla....I'm sorry. Tha....I lo..." The signal then faded to static, and before long a tear opened in space and the shuttle began its years-long journey back to their home world with the other escapees.

Jackson threw off the Oni, who seemed to be getting more and more frustrated at his resistance. Jackson then used his trump card: Twin medium-range booster rockets that allowed him to make a huge leap out of danger's path. Activating these would destroy the ATLAS upon landing, given how beat up it was from the Oni woman's strength, but at least he'd put some distance between them. Huge plumes of flame and acrid smoke erupted from the mech's back, propelling it high into the air after a huge leap upward and away from the scene; the Oni could only choke for a short moment, then bellow in frustration as her prize disappeared into the distance. Jackson sailed far away, easily over thirty miles, before crashing into the center of a destroyed town. The ATLAS was definitely a goner, he thought to himself as he clambered out and examined his surroundings. He didn't know which one this was, but he didn't care; this was home for now. And he'd make it work; taking out the Reaper rifle, Breaker sidearm and Flash Knife stored in a side compartment, along with several modifications and magazines of ammunition for each weapon, and placing them into their respective compartments of his Devastator armor, he then made tracks into a nearby bunker and set up what he would call a temporary home.
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*Saturday, August 14, 3648. Location: Deseus, Evugid Continent, Jacinto Ruins. Present day, four years following planetwide evacuation*

Jackson had long since lost track of time that he'd been on this planet; a couple of years he knew, but just how long was a mystery to him. He laid down on his bed, the front door sealed tight so that those abominations couldn't get their hands on him. He'd had to move around a lot, because if he stayed in one place for too long, the Mamono seemed to come snooping around. He'd settled into the highest room at the top of a surprisingly intact twenty-story building, which he'd turned into his own personal headquarters. Traps that he'd lifted from the abandoned armory in his current town were placed along the hallways leading towards his room; he had enough food, water and ammo to last him a short while. In fact, he was just walking in with the latest raid to the armory a few miles down the road; the Mamono had become cunning, and learned of his tendency to stay in the well-armored vaults. But now he was here in a high-rise apartment, at the very top; yes, there was a lack of defensibility, but he needed to change where he would hide, lest they discover a pattern and intercept him.

All of this running, all of this having to hide and survive wore him out. Now devoid of his Devastator armor - which lay against the wall opposite the room in standby mode - his true human form was revealed: A six-foot-four, well-toned body with various impressions on his skin from how often he had to wear his armor. His untrimmed hair, once a vibrant brown but significantly dulled from his exertions, reached down to his shoulder blades. He stood in the room, left only in a pair of hand-washed underwear; naturally, living here meant none of the electric appliances could be used, since it might alert wondering Mamono to his location. His black bodysuit hung over the back of a chair, its surface riddled with holes and stains from lack of maintenance. It could still be used, but some of its functionality was lost; the thermoregulating matrix in the suit was heavily degraded, making it less effective at monitoring his body temperature. He'd managed to make a bit of progress in fixing it, but he couldn't find the necessary to make a full repair, but at least it would work for now. He'd just finished maintenance on his armor and was now working on the Reaper; for that he did find the right tools, which was great because this armor he wore and the gun he carried were the two things - along with his training and learned tactical ability - that kept him out of those freaks' clutches for this long.

Once he finished his maintenance, he decided to rest for a little bit; it was stuffy so he cracked open a window and let the breeze blow in a little. The tired soldier then fell back on the bed, his dulled green eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. "Boy one hell of a mess I landed myself in" he commented blandly; he wondered if anyone missed him back on Earth. His parents, his friends......All of them he left behind to save his squad-mates. Whether it was blind stupid heroism or an unbreakable sense of duty, he'd thrown himself into the lion's den to make sure his squad got out alive. He looked over at the holopad that was on the desk; this was something he found on a prior trip and used to help put his thoughts on something solid and keep his mind sane. After typing in a few things about his recent outing for more supplies, he hit 'Save' and then put it back down; was it even worth doing this? Who was going to read it? No one. Even still...There was something comforting about putting his thoughts and such onto something solid. It freed up his brain and spirit to focus on other things, namely survival and potentially finding a ride off this damned planet.

"Tch...That ain't gonna happen anytime soon" he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair; needless to say, despite his hard-wired habit of trying to keep himself presentable, he was definitely looking rugged. Heavy stubble covered his squared jaw, and his eyes were dark from massive lack of sleep and overdependence on recovered stimulants and caffeine pills to stay awake. Giving a defeated sigh, he then went to retrieve the Breaker sidearm he'd kept with him; most important task of the day, he thought. If he was going to make it out of here, he needed his tools to be in top shape. He looked over the weapon's form as he sat in another chair, examining it for defects; this thing had saved his ass a few times, but it was a bitch to find spare parts for. Luckily, they were built to last, so maintenance was something that could be put off for a surprising length of time. But before long, his eyes began to tire, a hand coming up to rub at them; the dulled hues peered around the room, his mind deciding it was secure enough for him to get some sleep. Thankfully, the bed held up well enough and was fairly damn comfortable; whoever the previous owners were had good taste, that much was certain. And as he laid down, the light slumber came quick, the pistol loaded and hidden beneath his pillow with his hand loosely holding the grip and finger on the trigger.

For the young man was still paranoid that one day he might be found...Not knowing what was to come very soon.
 
(When you feel like an ant under the gaze of a giant)


'Twas but shortly thereafter--just long enough for Jackson to drift into that semi-conscious dream world that persisted to keep you groggy--a visitor arrived. More accurately, a tourist of the Momono variety, choosing the tall building to roost upon, as to rest. Coincidentally, the balcony she chose, happened to be the one just outside the UNSC soldier's room.

So it was, that a Harpy landed her avian feet on the cool flooring of the balcony; tucking her arms in to pull her "wings" back to a more comfortable position. She stood just under 5"5, with a feathering of a deep, azure blue; matching the strangely neat--for something that moves through high winds and vigorous flapping-- shift of hair that hung short to her neck(sue me, I like Papi). Judging by the moderate breasts, and slim, but only lightly-toned appearance, one could judge she had matured only a year or two ago.

Bergundy-gold eyes scanned the room in quick, juttery movements; somehow not noticing the sleeping human, as she made her way in. As it was, the sliding-glass door had been left open by the marine; a lack of foresight hinging on therein on the lack of sleep he had. Of course, she hadn't noticed him, but seemed attracted to the dim glow of the datapad Jackson had left in the corner of the room.

Tilting her head, the female Momono aproached it, and extended one of her "hands"(those three-digited hand things they have in the crook of their wings), to pick it up. Upon doing so, she maneuvered her other hand over, beginning to tap at the screen. Of course, she was a harpy.

Harpies may be scatter-brained.

They may be down-right stupid at times(especially younger ones).

But it all culminates...

In being a complete clutz.

Thus, after just a moment of tapping, it seemed as if every alarm in the damn pad went off. Beeping and whirring, and whizzing, and bopping, and thudding; that thing made more noise than a bunch of patriots on a fire truck during the 4th of July. Startled, the harpy exclaimed, "Gaaawk! What-did-I-do!? The-fuck-did-I-press?! The-fuck-is-all-this?!", in typical quickly-spoken dialect of a harpy. Meanwhile, she practically juggling the damn thing in surpirse; fumbling for the thing in the air with her not-quite-so-applicable appendages.

Of course, this made one whole hell of ruckus; easily enough to awaken Jackson. On one hand, there was a Mamono in his room. A harpy, nonetheless. And it had his datapad. On the other hand, a naked, vibrantly-colored harpy was floundering about comically with his datapad; seemingly oblivious to him.
 
(It's all good c: The first post was just a colorful set-up for the current situation. And you played this Harpy's reaction perfectly, I couldn't stop laughing xD)


Jackson was so damn tired, that he did not properly secure the only entrance that someone could get into; he was so high up and so exhausted that he made the mistake of leaving it open to help vent the stuffy air out, not thinking that one of the Mamono that could fly would by some small chance land on the intact patio. And though he tried to keep his slumber light, the depth of his exhaustion pulled him further and further into dreamland, the messy hair falling over his face a little so as to obscure his rugged features.

The sleep was such a depth that he didn't hear her clawed feet touching across the tile floor, didn't even hear her by his bedside nor notice the shadow she cast, for the curtain on the window next to the bed was closed tightly shut and blocked the remaining daylight from this alien world's bright sun. And though she was so close, her feathers shaking about as she played with his datapad, he did not stir.

A fact that most certainly changed when she accidentally triggered the alarm function, making the soldier fall off the bed in shock as a loud 'CONK' told of him hitting his head on the floor, gun barely held in his grasp; and when he finally managed to shoot back up hearing the voice, he saw what it was: A fucking Mamono! In his room! Comical or not, this was not a situation he could take lightly. Naturally, the fatigue almost instantly vanished as he was on the Harpy in seconds, his free hand clenched around her throat as he caught the flailing datapad in his gun hand, thumb pressing the giant red 'SILENCE' prompt on the screen before tossing the device on the bed and making her stare down the barrel of his gun.

"SHUT...UP" he then threatened, placing the muzzle all too close for her to feel against the tight skin of her forehead. Naked as she might have been, the soldier didn't find a damn thing appealing about these abominations. They were rapists, kidnappers and murderers as far as he was concerned. His eyes glared coldly at the bird-woman, gaze deadlocked on her own as he added venomously, "You have five seconds to tell me why I shouldn't blow your fucking head off...." Jackson growled, fingers a bit too tight around the Harpy's slender neck; he didn't want to shoot, because then there was even more of a chance of him being found out.

"One...Two...Three...Four..." And right at four, his thumb racked the hammer on the gun back, evidence that he was not playing around...Or at least that was the message he was trying to convey.
 
( I did try my best to make that funny. xD I first read your reply, and my reaction was just, " o.o ". I guess I'm used to far more light-hearted roleplays. Not that this is a bad change of pace; I think I like it.)

Already, the harpy was startled by the alarms.When Jackson sprang up, and grasped her neck in a tight vice of grip, her eyes shot wide with fright. Indeed, as he promptly shut off the device, and spun her, to press the gun to her temple, the harpy's eyes had bolted wide. The sight of a human alone was surprising; the gun muzzle shoved against her forehead even more so.

Quickly, her 'hands' came up, to clutch at the one he was holding her with. However, harpies were not technically strong creatures; they relied on their raw speed and mobility in combat. Through the use of their flight, and lightweight structure--Jackson could easily lift the female off her feet if he wished--they could transfer their momentum into jarring blows. She squirmed in his grasp, struggling until she heard him count down; closing her eyes tightly at the second-to-last number. She began to shake, and cease her struggling, as she choked out,

"I-I-didn't-mean-to! I-I-d-didn't-know-you-were-here! I-only-w-wanted-to-r-r-rest-on-the-balcony! Then-I-saw-your-glowing-thing-and-just-had-to-touch-it! P-P-P-Please-don't-kill-me!"

For someone nearly being choked out, it was rather well pronounced. Of course, being a scared-for-her-life harpy, it came out as a near slurr of rapid, strung-together speech. From the corners of her avian eyes, tears began to form.
 
(Oh yeah...He's not had fun on this world. For him it's kill or be killed...Not knowing that he's not being hunted in that sense xD)


And right as the soldier about to say five, the harpy girl started squealing and squawking as she begged him not to kill her. Not that it was likely he was going to; even if he did strangle her and throw her body overboard, other Mamono would know something was amiss and start to investigate. Which meant having to move hideouts again, not something he had wanted to undergo just yet. And honestly, since her words were rather muted because of his death grip, killing her would only inconvenience him.

And for a moment, his grip relaxed, allowing the avian woman to breathe more easily; no doubt her neck would be slightly bruised, but at least she would live...For the moment. "You mean the datapad you triggered the alarm function on? You trying to get me killed?" he snarled, keeping the muzzle pressed firmly to her head. "How stupid are you that you don't see me sleeping less than three feet from my 'glowing thing'?" was his next crude question, keeping his voice low.

He then looked over and saw that the patio door was open; fuck, he forgot to close it. Who knew how much ruckus those down below heard, if there were any. His eyes narrowed in contempt, but he soon turned his attention back to her and said, with no less a threatening tone than before "Depending on the answer to this next question, I might just have to...When you were flying in, did you see anyone on the ground? Was there anyone else besides you?"

This was going to play out two ways: If she answered yes, she was carrion fodder. If no, he might be inclined to let her go, provided she could keep quiet long enough for him to start packing up.
 
(Mhmm~ x3 Even did some Harpy research for this one.)


The Harpy slowly--not able to stop her light shaking in fear-- lowered her wings to her sides, knowing there wasn't much she could do in this situation. Indeed, the soft skin of her neck was bruised lightly by his grip; but nothing that wouldn't heal. She took a breath to stabilize herself, before responding--with a noticeable effort to speak slower--softly,

"I-I... guess I just didn't see you? It's not mating season, so I wasn't really on the lookout... We harpies don't actively seek out males unless it is that season...", she explained to him, before taking in his second question. After a moment of ponderance--her eyes drifting upwards in a thinking manner, before returning to him--she responded, "N-No, I don't think so... not in the immediate area. There were some wolves on the outfringes--in the forests-- but that's pretty normal. I didn't see anyone in the city..."

Given that most monster girls have no need for concrete or urban environments, most lived in natural locations. To support her truth, at least, in the first explanation, it was well known that harpies were friendly. In fact, before the fighting had begun, a few harpy-shipping business had begun to arrive; convenient in short, or long-distance mailing. They were among the first to colonize with humans, due to their mating season, unlike most monster girls, who go year-round. Only after finding a mate do harpies acquire that voracious sex-drive.
 
(I can tell! I will admit...I do feel kind of bad now xD But at least now she's likely safe from further wrath, haha)

Jackson's eyes never left the naked Harpy as she explained how it being out of mating season, she wasn't looking for a man. And how there were only wolves in the forests...Nothing he couldn't handle from his high-rise vantage point. In any event, she seemed to be telling him the truth...But he still had the problem of her knowing where he was. And how problematic that could be...Still, if he killed her now, there was no doubt those very wolves would be attracted to the scent of her dead body. And even dealing with them could lead to other issues

And after a few tense moments, his mouth pursed into a tight grimace, he finally decided to let her go and pull the gun away from her temple. No matter how friendly she was being, she was still a potential threat. Her answer didn't fully explain why she couldn't see him; unless she was just so focused on his datapad that everything else drowned out. For the first time in a long time, he was conflicted about whether to spare or kill. Mostly due to self-preservation...But also a smaller part of him, nearly mute, saying that she was not deserving of death.

"Alright, fine...I guess you're alright." he finally said, breaking the silence of him staring at her. "Besides...I can't have you leaving here in tears and shouting how a mean human could do this or anything like that." Jackson tacked on, going to close the door before pointing to the datapad on the bed. "So...Here. Play with this until you're bored, I guess...I have things to do." Whether she took it or not didn't matter; he needed to get himself ready to move out, so he began activating his armor suit, already placing the supplies he could carry into every available compartment as well the massive rucksack that was held by straps over the chestpiece.
 
( x3 It's ok. Since it has been years, after all, it's understandable for him not to know that Harpies are probably the most harmless.)

Slowly, the harpy relaxed, raising one hand to rub gently at her throat. Truth be told, she just 'happened' to overlook him. Nothing different or strange about it; just another part of being a clutz. She frowned slightly at his words, but quickly perked up, when she picked-up on his slight relaxation. Always quick to trust again, the harpy was still scared, but only slightly so. More wary than anything about the male. Any turn-around on an action, though, could almost always be interpreted as sincere.

She took the datapad from where it lay after he threw it, and began to--this time with far more careful presses-- play with it. After a short while of both toying with the device, and watching him pack, she spoke up, "So...you're the last human, right? I-I mean, I've heard rumors and all, that there was still a male, but I never really believed them...."

As she did so, she meandered closer, perusing over his armor and supplies from a distance. It was more curious than anything; her eyes held a spark of curiosity, mingling with the excitement that a little danger can bring. Despite being as scatterbrained as any other harpy, she appeared to be quite intelligent; especially since there were no further alarms on the datapad!
 
(All too true, and even though she really didn't do anything wrong, were this any other situation she probably would have died xD)

Jackson continued to work; even with the modifications to his armor, he couldn't load the suit down too much. Not that the servos couldn't handle the weight, but he needed to stay as compact as possible. Which unfortunately meant having to leave much of the supplies he managed to acquire behind. How many 'caches' did he have now? All because he'd been discovered, though this was the first time he was truly at fault for letting it happen.

Her question, however, made him pause noticeably. His shoulders tensed visibly, eyes focused on the armor suit before him, soon falling to the sidearm by his feet. His lifelines in this hostile world, the memories of all the times he was attacked. The sleepless evenings, downing pill after pill, trying to do everything in his power to stay awake. To never let himself be caught off-guard...And yet here he was, a naked Mamono in his room, asking his identity.

He was wordless before he started to dress in that black, skin-tight suit; threads of blue-white light seemed to flash up over it, thinner than a human hair, signaling the activation sequence. Letting out a heavy sigh, he felt the suit cling to his body, still showing the muscle he had left even though he definitely looked emaciated. "As far as I know...Yeah, I am." he finally replied as a white lie, bending down to retrieve his sidearm and adding "But don't get any ideas: Mating season or not, you come after me, you're dead before you can blink." He knew there were others, but he didn't have it in him to say that right now. Plates near the hip parted to allow the storage of the pistol and extra ammunition, three magazines in total, before closing back up and signaling the end of his tenure here.

And with this, he then retrieved his main weapon, the assault rifle that he finished repairing, loading a fresh magazine underneath the stock and racking the first round. The soldier then went over and opened the patio door again, stating "You have had your fun, right? Good....Now get out."
 
(Mhmm~)


The harpy immediately regretted asking the question. The visible tensing, and almost glassy flashback stare that his eyes acquired caused her to feel an incredible guilt. She frowned, for a bit, before nodding, watching him equip and power on the armor, before noticing the way he stowed his pistol, She almost looked heartbroken when he told her to leave,but she did oblige.

Placing the datapad in his hands on the way by, she moved past him, onto the porch. One quick hoped from her agile avian legs had her on the railing, where she promptly looked over her shoulder, to flash Jackson a smile. Of course, the look on her face, read, in spades, that he would see her again. "Name's-Amelia, by-the-way, " she stated, before launching herself into the sky with a beat of her wings. Harpies' bone structure was incredibly lightweight, and they were lithe for a reason. She made a quick circle of the building, before quickly escalating in altitude. Before long, she was just a speck in the sky.
 
Jackson just watched as she took to the heavens, the Harpy Amelia, circling once before vanishing in the blink of an eye. He let out a heavy breath, a hand coming to his chest, feeling his heart race from the surge now that she was gone; he then looked down at his hand, seeing it shake from anxiety. That was way too close, he thought to himself; thankfully, it still seemed to be light enough out to where he could move if needed to.

A sudden pain then overtook him, forcing him to double over as he had a slight coughing fit, the datapad dropping from his grip and clattering on the hard floor. His hand came up to cover his mouth, feeling a wet warm lightly coat his fingers; pulling it away, he saw blood traces mixed with the phlegm.

Shit.

He knew his extreme survival for all these years was taking a toll on his body; hell, even he was surprised he'd lasted as long as he did. The bloody hand clenched into a fist before he slammed it in frustration on the floor; damn it all, he couldn't stop now. 'Stand up, you pussy...Stand. UP!' Jackson yelled at himself mentally, willing his body back to his own two feet. He wouldn't fall here, he couldn't. Even if it meant he had to leave supplies behind, he had to move. With that in mind, he jumped into his armor, his eyes overlooking the massive supply of ammo and rations he was leaving behind before slipping on his helmet. The plates on the front seemed to burst to life, the four 'eyes' of the faceguard being cameras that fed his viewscreen the data it needed.

To the north was another town; a fair ways away and unfortunately lacking in nearby raid-able military installations, if the map he had was anything to go by. But it was his next best bet.


Jackson's heavy armored form crashed through the forest, the long day starting to end as the sky faded to the evening colors of purple, neon blue and yellow. There was still daylight left, but most of the diurnal species would be hunkering down for the night. He never knew why it changed the way it did, but that was inconsequential to him. Even though the Harpy told him there were Wolves in the forests, staying where he was only invited disaster. It was a (somewhat) calculated risk.

His pack thumped a little as the mechanized battle armor trudged through the brush, easily knocking aside small shrubs and branches, the viewfinder auto-adjusting to infra-red detection as the ambient light died down. It didn't have much of an effective range, but it was enough to where he would (hopefully) be able to see threats incoming. His tired eyes checked every corner, his finger almost squeezing the trigger of his rifle far too many times; damn it, his whole body felt wired, twitchy. 'Get a grip, Whitelock; this ain't your first rodeo. By the time night falls, you should be in Tria...Then you can loot another room and sleep in a bed again.' he tried to tell himself, but his body simply wouldn't listen. And it was because of this he forced himself to pause, back against a solid tree that he took deep, steady breaths. A few minutes of this, and he felt a little better. Not one hundred percent, nowhere close, but definitely less agitated.

'OK...Let's keep 'er going' the soldier steeled himself, starting his pace back up once more.
 
From the beginning of his entrance into the forest, Jackson would acquire the feeling of being watched. Call it a sixth sense, or a trained soldier's instinct, but he knew he was being hunted. When he rested against the tree, it only grew, and the forest around him seemed to start becoming quiet. Of course, forests only grew quiet when a predator was about.

As Jackson began to move again, noises in the forest would begin to popup; but not of wildlife.The small cracks of twigs,and the light, almost stealthy crunching of leaves would signify his pursuers. If that wasn't enough, a loud howl--distinctly canine-- split the crisp evening air, sending shivers down the back of anything decidedly prey.

But a moment after, the marine would begin to spot shapes among the trees; ranging from brown, to black, to white, these shapes formed a half-circle around his flank. Nearing twenty in number, it was a large pack, and they had only one thing on their minds, apparently. Clearly, they were the werewolves Amelia had talked about earlier; humanoid shapes with the appendages of canines, intent on capturing the lone male for quite some time. As time passed, the semi-circle began to close in, keeping as much cover between them and the marine as possible, but steadily gaining ground.
 
It didn't take long for the dread to knot his belly, the hairs on his back to stand perfectly straight and that dreadful chill to seize his spine. Thank god the bodysuit was at least halfway functional, because the cold sweat of fear already wet his skin. At first he thought the sounds were his own, since there were plenty of leaves on the ground and there was no real trail. But the increased frequency told him that it wasn't, and he was sharp enough to realize he was being stalked. By what, however, was only a question time would tell...Though the hell was a fairly dead giveaway, he would admit that.

Soon enough, the infra-red mode of his HUD caught distinct heat signatures, ones that he was previously warned about: Wolves. And a LOT of them, from what he could tell; fast agile pack hunters, they had him surrounded in seconds but kept behind trees. Clearly they weren't stupid, or they probably heard that he wasn't fond of becoming the next prey on their menu. His eyes darted back and forth, his already twitchy body eager to start shooting, heart pounding like a wardrum and the blood feeling like magma in his veins. The moment he did, however, he would have at least five other directions he would be assaulted from...Too much risk, no reward at all for him.

His mind already working on alternate plans, he checked the inventory in his gauntlets via his viewscreen, cutting off the external speakers: Two sets of flashbang microbursters, three charges apiece. He wouldn't stun them all, but hopefully if it he dispersed them over a wide enough area...He might be able to make it to the old road that was about two clicks west of here. At least he would have the opportunity for a buffer zone, since he wouldn't have trees and shrubs. He needed to make a choice though, because the proximity sensors were detecting unknown signatures closing on him. Slowly but surely his window was shrinking.

He needed to move...And he needed to do it now. Even if it meant open season on his ass, he wouldn't make catching him that easy. No way in hell.

His teeth grit together as he waited; he needed to see at least one set of eyes glint at him. Just one, and he would be close enough; already, the Reaper rifle was slid into the compartment on his back, himself now devoid of visible weaponry. But his posture told of prey ready to run, something the Wolves were all too eager to do; it had been so LONG since they had a good chase. Especially for someone like him

His breathing heavy, Jackson muttered, "Come on, tick factories...Get closer. Closer, I fucking *dare* you!" The four blue 'eyes' of his visor searched this way and that, the cameras seeing the shadows move. Encroach, each second feeling like an hour....And then it happened.

Four sets of golden eyes peered to him. And he put his batshit crazy plan into action.

"Visor opacity: 100%!"

The cameras instantly shut off, leaving him virtually blind as he swung his arms outward; six tiny, egg-sized cylinders flew out in a rough circular pattern, landing on the leaves and dirt before exploding in a violent burst of light and sound. His helmet dampened the noise, but he still felt the concussion from the charges, a sharp exhale leaving his throat; even still, he moved as the blinding grenades temporarily incapacitated the hunters on his tail.

"Visor opacity: 0%!"

That was his last shout, the cameras flipping back on just in time for him to avoid nearly smacking into a tree, the servos in his armor making him unnaturally fast...But even that boost could only last for so long. The thumps of his armor pounding the ground were quite loud, making it extremely easy for his pursuers to find and pin him should they catch up to him. All he could hope for now was to try and put as much distance between him and the hunting pack as possible...

All he could do was run and try to hide again.
 
(Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand there's the punchline, folks! Thanks for reading! Hope to see you next time! xD )



(Pfff. Cracked me up. )


The wolves spotted what they assumed was a vulnerability, and fell for it like a hammer to gravity. The second he had begun to wait, they converged; sprinting in at him from all angles, to close on their vivacious prize. When sudden lights, combined with deafening noise, and concussive waves of air assaulted their head-on approach; screams of pain lit the night air.

The ones closest to him had dropped to the ground, straight-dead, from sensory overload. With heightened senses, werewolves were already susceptible to noises and the like. Caught unawares, those closest two had their senses overloading; capillaries bursting like a dam in rain season, as they slumped to the ground dead. The second closest of the wolves were sent into spasmic shock; overwhelmed by the sensations, but not close enough for their nerves to undergo serious trauma. Following them were the rest, which simply clutched at their heads, eyes, and bodies, as they were submitted to enhanced--yet not nearly as decapacitating responses-- effects of the devices. At a rough count--he had taken off quickly-- there were 14 werewolves laying about.

So, as he ran through the forest, one thought would cross through Jackson's mind. Were there more? Forests can play tricks on the normal eye, and sensors, when things are moving at fast speeds. In addition, a common tactic of wolf packs--adapted for eons by humankind, as well-- was the simple strategy of the Hammer and the Anvil. As one large group herds and attempts to stall/stop the enemy, a smaller, but--preferably more trained--group "hammers" in from the opposite direction; exploiting chaos on the lines.

As he moved towards the road, he'd be confronted suddenly by six more werewolves. Apparently leading them, in a near-phalanx-V formation, was a massive white werewolf; practically Amazonian in size. Clearly the Alpha, it was smirking smugly. They washed in like a tidal wave, striking when liable, but only making small risks, darting out to the cover of the frequent trees whenever they were liable to be countered. However, they made a noteworthy effort to not let him continue; he would have to go through every one of them to reach the outer forest, and the road therein. To top it off; their hits were staggering. These were no coyotes of old; they were a dominant pack, intent on getting what they wanted.
 
Jackson's lungs burned, but he never stopped.

His muscles screamed for rest, but he silenced them.

His body begged him to surrender, but his mind would not allow it. This was his will to survive, and it would not be broken just because he was surrounded.

Even though he'd stopped one pack for a moment, he had a gut feeling there were more...But he needed to get more space first, try to come up with another strategy. Arguably, it was foolish to resort using his suit's last line of ranged defense, but with his mind frazzled from lack of sleep and overuse of stimulants, his body hungering for real food, and the constant threat of attack from just about anywhere there was only one course of action his psyche found reasonable.

And within moments, their sheer physicality allowed them try and tackle him; the Breaker sidearm re-emerged, his visor's targeting systems automatically projecting a crosshair to show where the round would hit. The first few shots hit their marks, but landed on non-vital spots; though they certainly wouldn't be joining the chase any time soon. A few times he stopped to rain a hail of gunfire, before resuming his route. A few of them managed to get close, and one even mounted his back, trying to claw the armor off his body; however, the strong legs slammed them both backwards into a tree, the Wolf falling off limply as he ran again, leaving her for whoever might stumble across her next.

It wasn't long after he broke through a clearing's edge, that he was immediately confronted by another half-dozen Werewolves, a white-furred stronger one among them; a loud curse left his mouth as he realized the gravity of his situation, soon surrounded by the ones at his back and his front. His breathing ragged, he felt the first fear of actually being caught...And it pissed him off. A loud mad scream of his own left his lips, his handcannon swinging to try and drop the biggest one, but one of her underlings kicked his arm, sending the weapon flying...The catalyst to the beatdown he would soon suffer.

And though he fought valiantly, it was becoming increasingly clear that he was not going to win; their blows cracked and sheared his armor, try as he might to fight through the flurry of bodies. Already his helmet had been ripped away, revealing the face of a warrior: Covered in fresh claw marks from their 'paws', an eye closed as the blood stung like acid, teeth bared in sheer survival rage as he decided that even if he couldn't win...He would mark their biggest one, their Alpha. He would let them all know that he went down fighting...Went down with pride. And right as he broke free, he did just that: The last bits of his Devastator suit let him break the dogpile on his body, the last moments of his fight or flight response spent bullrushing a very surprised Alpha, feeling his fist connect with her jaw...And while it wouldn't break it, she would feel the soreness and bruise for days to come.

However, her own counter-blow had him reeling, feeling his body fall like it was in slow-motion and his mind swimming as the pain rocked him like nothing else; the last thing he would see would be the Wolves he didn't take down start to encroach him, his vision too bleary to see the triumphant of their faces at having landed the last known free human male and a strong one at that. His mind and body shutting down before he hit the dirt, his nutrient starved form lying near-lifeless and free for the Wolves to take him wherever they pleased.

To become one of the Pack, whatever that role might entail.
 
As his consciousness slowly began to fade from him, Jackson would be aware of one last--rather important--event that went underway. Slowly, the wolves parted for the Alpha, and she approached him. A smug, if angry, look was on her face, and she was absently rubbing her jawline with one of her paws. "Hrn...You will pay for all the pain you've caused us. A strong male like you.... you'll give us many, many pups! Our pack will........", she suddenly trailed off, and turned her head to the forest; all of the wolves ears suddenly peaking upwards. Many of them--especially the smaller ones-- began to shift nervously,almost looking frightened.

A calm, ice-cold voice drifted into the clearing, loud enough to be heard even by Jackson; but not holding even an ounce of emotion. "Mongrels. Filthy. You encroach on my territory, and attack a male within it, no-less. You will die, where you stand." The voice stated, before a breeze passed through the clearing. A flash--a simple blur of green--and two of the back werewolves fell to the ground, throats slit from ear-to-ear. Another flash, and several loud yelps; one of the bulkier werewolves clutched a bleeding stump in place of an arm. Another quick blur of a movement, and a figure stood between Jackson, and the Alpha.

The being stood just under six feet in height, and wore a chitin-like armor of peerless green from the crotch--barely covering her extremities--up, as well as from the kneed-down. Her arms--minus a pair of extended green razors, and gauntlet-like pieces-- coupled with the patch of her legs, and a bit of her face, revealed smooth, milky-white skin. On her head sat two gem-like studs of a deep Yellow, coupled with two long antennae. Auburn hair cascaded shortly to her shoulders amidst it all; while silver eyes peered out to greet those of the Alpha's cold gold. It seemed that Jackson had an unlikely savior; an "Assassin of the Forest", a Mantis.

Not a word was passed, before the two moved at one another. It was truly a beautiful sight; especially for a warrior that could value prowess. The Alpha fought with a passion, a berserker-like fury that showed itself in a flurry of fur and strikes. She was a twister of chaos; claws slashing, biting, seeking to rip and tear.

Outclassing her the entire time was the Mantis. She didn't fight, it seemed. Rather, she danced with death. Pirouetting and flowing. Strafing and sliding. Slicing and dicing. Death by a thousand cuts never sang a truer song, as the Mantis knicked and knacked, all the while avoiding the Alphas every move. As the canine slowed, the insect picked up speed, and the first slip of the Alpha marked her end.

As the Alpha swung down on a savage chop of one paw--capable of cleaving the mantis in half, if she was hit--the insect swept up, to the outside; dismembering the beast right at the shoulder blade. A short pirouette around the Alpha's back, and the other arm was gone. One final spin, and a short dash; the Alpha's lifeless head tumbled to the ground in front of her pack. The body promptly followed.

It was but mere moments before the pack broke ranks, and fled; running at full tilt any-way that would take them out of the area. The Mantis seemed to give no reason to follow, and instead, turned to Jackson. Slowly,she crouched in front of him, and turned her gaze to his own. "You. You're going to cause me a lot of annoyance, if I allow you to simply die here. A pity," she murmured, before grabbing his quickly-unconscious form. Throwing him over one shoulder,she promptly headed out.



Eventually, he would be awoken by a repetitive prodding at his lips, of a small, spherical object. When he looked around, he would find himself in a bed, within a tree. Yep. Inside of a hollowed tree; of the grand, majestic trees that could be found deep within forests. Larger than any Sequioa, this monstrosity had a house carved into it; and he lay on a bed inside of one. Next to him sat the Mantis, prodding grapes at his lips endlessly; a rather bored look on her face.
 
Jackson's body fought to stay conscious, his eyes barely peeked open as it tried to reactivate itself, the words almost inaudible from the severe ringing in his ears. His mind couldn't form a single coherent thought, the entirety of his consciousness a swimming sea of chaotic blurred images; if this what they talked about when one's life flashed before their eyes, then Jackson was more than a little disappointed, or rather he would have been.

And for him, this seemed like it was it: He was to be a pack slave, endlessly bred and fed to account for the losses he inflicted upon them. His feeble mind and body couldn't even react as an unknown third figure the fray; though he could tell something was being killed, the scent of iron characteristic of blood faintly tickling his nostrils. Was it his own? Someone else's? He didn't know...And he was honestly too tired to care, too tired to revel in the fact that someone might have actually found him. Even when the remaining Wolves scattered after the Alpha fell, the scant vestiges of bodily energy, he couldn't even make out the face of the one that intervened on his behalf.

Moments later, his consciousness slipped again, this time more deeply, the last thing he felt was a lifting sensation...Finally to heaven, the last thought of his mind before it slipped into darkness.

For the next few days, the world was kind enough to grant him slumber: True slumber, the deep kind that refreshed the body. His wounds tended to, the broken bones expertly set and cast in some kind of strange clay, the left side of his head wrapped in bandages to deal with the compression and the cuts across his face. His armor having been destroyed in the previous battle, along with all of his weapons, the only thing he had on him was the bodysuit...but even that was gone, shredded and used to create slings for his injuries. Yes, dear Jackson Whitelock certainly looked like he should have died long before even this point: The ribs on his body showed all too clearly, his face thin and the bags under his eyes blacker than coal. Even after being force-fed mashed-up concoctions of berries and meat, he still had a long way to go in terms of recovery.

And yet here he slept, recovering thanks to the strange creature that saved his life. Though that was soon to come to an end, the soldier stirring as he felt something pushing on his mouth; he could barely move, but his eyes stirred before flickering open to reveal the green irises. A loud yawn made the hand poke the inside of his cheek, the instinct surprise bite nearly chomping her fingers as the teeth burst the grape, herself pulling the hand away in time. A sweet explosion erupted in his mouth, the juice unfortunately making him have a coughing fit before finally settling down...His eyes then took in the wooden ceiling...

Wait, wood?!

Adrenaline surged through him, making his body scream in agony and succeeding in only shaking a little as a pained groan left his throat, eyes looking around as fast as they...Which in this case seemed more like lazily gazing at nothing. The focus then then drifted to his right to see a new face: The picture was clear, and it was clearly another Mamono, her expression one of clear disinterest and boredom. But it wasn't a Wolf...So what the fuck was it?

A small and very tired-sounding 'Tch' finally sounded from his lips, before long taking in the fact that he was naked save for the tight white underwear that hid very little and unintentionally showed off his 'prize'. Something the Wolves would have enjoyed quite well had they succeeded in taking him. But now it was this...thing's time. Even though his body was virtually lifeless save for the small twitches in his extremities, he could tell many parts were broken...And with how badly his head was pounding, he wouldn't be surprised if there was a concussion to boot.

His voice was hoarse, scratchy and exhausted, as he then asked rather rudely "Where the fuck am I?" though the words were more mouthed due to his fatigue. Whoever this Mamono monster was, she would find him fairly uncooperative.
 
"You're inside my house. And on my bed." , the Mantis explained to him, before popping another grape into his mouth. Sighing in exasperation, the Mamono sat back in her chair, and glanced over his body. While her gaze did linger on his crotch--where her face seemed to flush up just a bit--she almost didn't take notice,and continued down his body.

" Those wolves did a number on your body. You are quite lucky that I got there in time. " The Mantis stated almost nonchalantly, before standing up.The room he was in was resolutely small; trees only did get *so* big. However, it was like a small apartment; big enough for a bed, a dresser, a wall of assorted supplies,and various nooks to stow-away containers. The only exit was a circular opening of rounded, woven, grass; thrown-open by the Mamono, after she grabbed a wooden pitcher from the nearby wall. It seemed, upon exit, that the Mamono dropped straight down; confirming that this was rather high up in said tree.

Nevertheless, she was prompt to return back, and move to his side once again. This time, she pressed the lip of the pitcher to his lips, without warning, and began to tip it back. "Drink...", she ordered solemnly, " "...Or choke." Of course, she slowly poured it; taking a few moments in between sips for the marine to recover.

Mantis' were some of the lesser-known Mamono; most documentation only explained that they lived in forests. They were incredibly skilled warriors, and seemed to have no interest in humans; outside of their mating seasons. They were beings made to survive, and lived life only to do so.
 
Jackson's ears caught her words, the one eye that wasn't covered narrowing as she called him lucky. Was it lucky? Even if it wasn't those mangy flea-bags, he was still prisoner to a Mamono. And that thought made him angry; damn it all, if only that Harpy hadn't landed on his patio...If only he hadn't left that fucking window open! As she left, a heavy sigh left his mouth; at least his jaws didn't feel broken, which meant this time he could chew the grape she gave him. As tough as even that was for him in his present state

But before he could ponder any further, she was back, holding a wooden pitcher to his lips; the soldier couldn't even protest about a smaller container before she started pouring. The first sip was the hardest; it felt painful to even swallow. The next few went down more easily, his throat practically singing in jubilation as the moisture wet his esophagus, relieving the practical desert in his mouth. Thankfully as well she seemed content to let him drink until the pitcher was empty, his thirst now quenched.

But his movement was still restricted, something that clearly showed as he tried to even sit up; he was quicker this time to just lay down, himself taking a deep breath as his body tried to take the welcome reprieve from all the running and over-exertion. His eyes stared up at the ceiling; why this Mamono was caring for him, he could only fathom. "Why did you stop the Wolves from killing me? You want to do it yourself or something?" he then asked her coldly, the words still sounding strained but coming out more clearly now.
 
"Why did I save you?", the Mantis paused, while hearing his second question. Abruptly, she began to laugh. It was cold, mirthless, but still rather humorous in nature. Rolling her eyes, the Mantis eventually centered her gaze back on the marine, this time holding up one hand, and one finger.

"Now, listen here, man. You might've killed a lot of Mamono--yes, everyone in the damn monster world has heard rumors of you--but you're not all we think about. I killed those wolves because they encroached on my territory; I'm not going to let that simply pass. As to why I saved you..."
The Mantis paused, and seemed to get distracted; a light blush coming to her cheeks, as she squirmed a bit on her spot. But a moment later, she returned to a cold look, directed at him.

"It's simply because if you die in my land, I would never hear the end of it. I don't want annoying bygones passing through my land, talking about how the last man alive died here. N... Nothing more, nothing less. Understand?" The Mantis explained to him, before sitting back once again. One of her legs crossed over the other, as she calmly perused him again.
 
Jackson just sat there and listened, not really caring for the fact that she was laughing and making light of all this. Then she went on about how he wasn't all they thought about; funny way of showing it, the marine thought, especially with how many times he'd been attacked. Hopefully she wasn't expecting him to apologize or start professing his gratitude towards her. Fat chance of that happening, his crude thoughts continued on.

"Please, as if they would actually care I was gone." he huffed, not even bothering to try and thank her. "All I asked was why you stopped them from killing me. You could have just said 'To defend my territory' and that would have been fine. I couldn't care less what you damn Mamono think of me." was his next statement. Still, the Mantis' last statement held something that troubled him: Last man alive?

"Wait, the hell do you mean last man alive? I know for a fact there are others. Or at least there were...Who knows if you damn freaks killed them too." Jackson then shot back heatedly.
 
The Mantis gave Jackson a decidedly venomous glare, when he simply retorted back at her. He seemed like a real dick sometimes, especially when he had just been saved. To top it of, e was being tended to; something he couldn't do quite so well on his own. However, upon hearing his question, she frowned a bit, before a look of realization over-came her.

"Ah. I don't mean alive in the literal sense. When we take husbands, I suppose we consider them more as our own; not so much as a single human male. To rephrase; you're the last free male. At least, that's known." The Mantis paused for a moment, before showing the slightest bit of emotion, in a soft sigh, as she stood up. "I don't expect your gratitude, as I suspect you are incapable of it towards Mamono's, but I would enjoy you being... ahem. Not a dick. "

A moment of silence from the Mantis followed her proclamation, before she added, "I've dressed your wounds in a clay poltice of various medical herbs. They should accelerate your healing, and induce essential nutrients through your skin. If you relax, and not try to stress yourself, you should be in--at least--walking order, in a day or two." With that being said, the Mantis rose, and moved to the entrance. A quick glance back at the Marine, and she was gone; dropping out of the entrance way without another word.
 
Jackson huffed as she explained, clearly starting to get fed up with even being near her. If she knew so much about him, why would she expect him to be anything short of a complete dickhead to her? "You're the one who said people heard about me; you're fucking moronic if you think saving my life will win you any good graces" he replied in a very angry tone; how bad was it that he was not only saved, but being scolded by the very thing he hated?

This attitude persisted even as she left to do...whatever. Like hell he was going to give her a day, let alone two; armor or no, he wasn't going to just sit here and let her try and plump him up. He was getting out of here; he'd been in situations before where he didn't know where the hell was, this was no different. Except that all his best tools were probably destroyed, and his hands were completely useless bound up in this clay.

And it was for this reason alone he tried to at least sit up, his body shooting in agony which forced him back onto the cozy mattress. His chest heaved from the exertion, a cast arm thumping against his chest rather harshly and making him cringe. Sweat beaded his forehead as he slowly calmed down, "Breathe, Jackson...Breathe. There has to be a way out of here." Of course, it would seem right now he was not succeeding, though he would keep trying...Even as the Mantis might make her return.
 
It was a few hours, at least, before the Mantis returned, promptly in time to see him struggling once again. If there was one important quality about Jackson, that people would need to know... he was a stubborn motherfucker. With an annoyed growl-like sound, the Mantis marched across the room to him. She was glowering at the marine, staring him down with a spark of annoyed anger in her eyes.

"Now, you insolent meathead...", she muttered under her breath, as she stalked to his bedside, "If I wanted to kill you, or meant any fucking harm to you...", from the chitin gauntlet on her arm, extended an arm-length blade, a razor of natural origins. With one swift movement, she chopped at the wall just to the right of his head; sinking the blade a few inches into it. She withdrew it smoothly, and laid the blade just at the hollow of his neck. "You would have died in the forest. My forest."

Another pause followed her proclamation, as she let it sink in, before she straightened, and the blade retreated in the chitin. "Do you understand, you moronic marine? Or would you rather I take you down now, and lay you on the edge of my territory, for the wolves?" The Mantis snarkily snapped, focusing a glare down at the grizzled man.
 
With the return of the Mantis, Jackson's struggles continued; his damned body just wouldn't listen though. Not surprising, since it was basically him forcing his body to go far beyond even the toughest of the UNSC Delta Force soldier's training. And right as he settled in, he saw her glaring at him. Not that it fazed him, because these abominations could go fuck themselves for all he cared.

Even her little display didn't seem to particularly rattle him, his eyes watching her own as she placed the blade at his neck and threatened him. All talk, especially when she withdrew it. It was only when she finished that he finally spoke again.

"Do what you like; I've already been beaten and broken. I've nothing to defend myself; those Wolves tore me apart and if you were strong enough to go up against them, then anything I do is meaningless. So...By all means. End it. I never asked your to save me, anyway, you fucking abomination." he then said quietly, defeatedly, his laying down on the pillow. And honestly? He could feel that part of him wanted him to be a dick, if only to goad her into killing him. He was...Just so tired of it all. Running, hiding, living on the fringe.

There were more than a few times that he nearly pulled the trigger on himself, green eyes staring down the dark abyss of his sidearm's barrel. And every time...He never did it. In those times, he was uncaptured...Surviving a midst of chaos. But now...Sitting here, bandaged up, at the mercy of some freak. He was better off dead.
 
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