soul_logs | [OPEN] Mission 155

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Mission 155

Characters: Open to those who signed up here.
Location: An unmarked cavern system outside Death City.
Rating: Various.
Time: March 18th, sunrise.
Description: Shibusen agents brave underwater caverns to take out the first of three Madness emitters.

Missiongoers pile out of the mirrors early in the morning, just as the first hints of sun start to color the walls of the sandstone canyon red and purple; it'll be the last bits of real light they'll see for at least a few hours. The atmosphere is electric -- there're quite a few new (and old) arrivals who're eager to see some action, but just as many people who're feeling rather more apprehensive… And for good reason.

The only way to their destination is blocked by a few hundred yards of sunken tunnels. Luckily they've been provided with mouthpieces, breathing apparatuses with enough oxygen to last about ten minutes: more than enough time, provided that the guests don't lose their way in the dimly-lit, twisted caverns. It's as easy as following the person in front of them, right?

Upon emerging safely from the pool onto mostly-dry land, they'll find themselves in an immense cavern, illuminated by countless, blue fungi clinging to the walls and ceiling, looking like stars dotting a night sky. Already the first signs of the way Madness has been corrupting the wildlife are evident: the mushrooms exude strange spores that make some people's head pound the same way the increasingly noticeable Madness wavelength does.

As they travel further into the watery caves and explore its many branches, they'll begin to encounter creatures twisted by Madness: moles, snakes, beetles, centipedes, all grown to monstrous proportions, some with a venomous bite that quickly turns their victim feverish and delirious. The more daring fighters can easily dispatch those and delve even deeper, and it's near the source of the Madness, in the chamber housing the emitter itself, that they'll encounter the kishin eggs.

There're dozens of them-- eyeless, white, vaguely human-shaped things, but despite their blindness they have no problem finding their quarry, fighting with claws and exuding their own Madness wavelength. If the missiongoers can stand strong against the kishin eggs and the ever-present wavelength given off by the Madness emitter, Shibusen's specialists will have enough time to shut the machine down for good.

OOC NOTES.
- The event summary post containing all relevant links is located here.
- Make your own threads, but please indicate in your subject line [CHARACTER(S) | LOCATION | OPEN/CLOSED] and, if applicable, if you need a kishin egg NPC!
- The locations are the sunken tunnels, the medics area, the cave system, and the emitter chamber, but only the medics will have their designated sub-thread.
- If you have any further questions, the mod thread on the coordination post is here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What else did he want him to say? He was a robot, Qilby was an organic mass of squishy organs. That was the long and short of it.

"Sounds like your enemies had the right idea," Barricade rumbled. Megatron wouldn't put up with an entire planet full of Qilby's, that was for fragging sure. He tried one last time to dislodge the particulate clogging his intakes, but finally gave up. He'd have to wait until they'd dried out some. "And maybe you're just asking the wrong question, because I'm answering them."

Barricade pulled up short when the passageway split into two directions. The trail they'd been shadowing went off to the left, while the right passage - well, had more blue mushrooms. Unfortunately, staying on track meant heading left.

"They did, yes," he conceded. It was true enough, considering he'd been the one to put the idea in them. The questions, however, he let go. He'd drag the story out of the metal mass soon enough-- or better yet, cut it out of him like any other animal he'd opened up and peered inside in the interest of furthering his knowledge.

The path split ahead of them, and Qilby pushed his way in front of Barricade to closely inspect the walls of the left path. "This tunnel was created-- see the claw marks, there." Sure enough, the passage was lined with deep, long gouge marks. "The beast was enormous, it had to have come from a chamber large enough to house it.

"In other words, the sort of main cavern we're likely looking for. Perhaps we can finally get back on track. But first--" Qilby held up a hand, interrupting whatever response or protest he might've been met with and took a few steps down the mushroom-lit path. Dexterously, he reached into his pack and removed a small box. Inside: some small swabs and plastic bags. Without wasting a single motion, he ran a swab underneath one of the head-sized fungi and deposited the now-gently glowing stick in the bag.

He'd kept no secrets about his primary interest in this mission. If he had to endure the Cybertronian, then he'd damn well come away with something to show for it.

That wasn't really the answer he expected to hear, but didn't push it. They could share notes over their respective biology and history some other time, if at all.

Barricade looked entirely bored by Qilby's forensic blathering, although he did manage to pull his teeth back at the implication they were off course because of him. Mutant snake or not, this path was for the better, and the Meister's ungrateful attitude was wearing thin. Not that he didn't deal with that on a daily basis with other Decepticons, but the circumstances made him chafe even more.

He let Qilby play mad scientist without comment, though, instead taking a few strides down the correct passage. His own goals here consisted mostly of gathering experience and firsthand knowledge of what this world was going to throw at them. So far it was all pretty terrible, but the promise of getting to tear things apart in the future would make it all worthwhile. One of the biggest roadblocks, unfortunately, was the damned Madness Wavelength. After only one more step it seemed to suddenly magnify, and he was forced to stop mid stride. For a brief moment he felt dizzy, like his feet weren't on solid ground anymore, and then it passed.

"Definitely the right way," he muttered, wiping one hand down his face. And it was only going to get worse from here.

He turned around from his collection, peering down the second passage. "What are you--"

And then it hit him, almost literally. Not quite as hard as it had appeared to hit his companion -- whether it was because he was more resistant to it or because he was further away from the epicenter of the wave wasn't clear. Either way, he was still suitably sane if he was lucid enough to even wonder about that. It was like a constant strain ever since they had descended into these caves, as if he was holding onto the edge of a precipice. He was going strong so far, encouragingly strong, but his his fingers had to fatigue sometime and then it'd be a long, long fall from where he was so high up.

Qilby pushed himself up off his knees and moved to follow Barricade. His tone was more neutral than it'd been all day when he quietly asked, "Is it anything like you've ever encountered before?"

Barricade hadn't made any move to go farther down the passage, not wanting to find out if that was going to happen again. They had to go forward eventually, though. He glanced down at Qilby, then over his shoulder down the passage they'd come through. There was nothing back there - theoretically - but now he was starting to get really paranoid.

"Similar, sure, but there was always a concrete attack behind it," he said. Getting too close to Thundercracker's sonic boom, for example, or the uncomfortable method of making planetfall without a ship. Maybe the Madness wasn't technically as bad as some of things he'd endured and survived, but it was certainly unique. "Resonation's supposed to make it easier to resist, right?"

They could continue as they were, of course, but he had the feeling they'd both need their heads on straight if trouble came crashing their way again. Given the alternatives, he was more willing to give up control to the Meister now than he had been previously. There wasn't a whole lot of common ground between them, but a mutual sense of survival went a long way.

"So they say," came the muttered reply. So they say, indeed, but the only other time he'd resonated with someone, it'd seemed to put him in an even worse position than before. But it's not like he had anything to worry about now, right? Not like Barricade didn't already know what sort of person he really was -- his soul had nothing to hide, nothing he'd lose by baring it in resonation. And vice versa, or so he thought.

"We may not be friendly, exactly, but I do hope we're allies at the very least." It was spoken in the sort of tone that suggested he was trying not to sound too suspicious of Barricade... But wasn't doing an entirely good job of it.

Why shouldn't he be suspicious, though? Led off course under some pretension into a dark, uncharted part of the caverns... The robot was too big to fit in the main tunnels, sure, but why couldn't he have simply transformed? Why avoid the suggestion so desperately? Unless... There was some ulterior motive to getting him alone, defenseless.

He'd fallen silent, by then -- probably something Barricade saw as a mercy -- but his thoughts continued to run just as insistently as his mouth had. He wasn't sure he liked where they were going.

At this point in time, the silence was entirely unwelcome. Annoying as Qilby was, Barricade knew when he started tolerating things so they became mundane and predictable and something to except. When it vanished, then something was wrong. Right now it was obvious he wasn't the only one with the Madness scratching around inside his thoughts, and it wasn't lost on him that they were still standing in one place.

"Look," he said slowly, easing down into a crouch so he was somewhat closer to Qilby's level. With any luck he wouldn't presume Barricade was coming into biting range. "I've worked with worse than you, and I'm still around to complain about it. 'Allies' might be pushing it, but we're not -"

Barricade tensed, head snapping back around to look over his shoulder a second time. There was nothing in sight, nor anything that could be heard, except he just had the worst feeling something was back there. Logic had nothing to do with it, considering his first guess was an Autobot ambush. Thousands of years of fight or flight scenarios and protocols seemed to triggering all at the same time. Something of a nervous habit, the wheels in his wrists spun slowly of their own accord.

"We're not going back," he ground out. Which left the unfortunate reality of him transforming.

He took a step back, in spite of himself, drawing a harsh breath through slightly bared teeth. For one wild moment, it made perfect sense to just throw caution to the wind and attack the metal beast -- its eyes were well enough within reach, and he was sure that with his smaller size he'd have the advantage of maneuverability in these narrow passageways. More impressive creatures had been thoroughly defeated at his hands; it'd be easy, even without his powers. He'd even finally get to see if this thing bled blood or oil.

Just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, and Qilby was suddenly aware he'd been frozen to the spot-- simply staring, wide-eyed, at Barricade. Speechless, stupid. He forced himself to relax, dropping his tense shoulders, unballing his white-knuckled fist and letting out a long-held breath. A thin trickle of sweat trailed its way down around the harsh angles of his face, having nothing to do with the temperature in the almost-chilly cavern.

"--no, we aren't," he finally managed to force out, inelegantly. Take his portals, fine. Take his sense of security, that was manageable. But now this world designed to take his words from him. Qilby brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, removing his glasses and holding them in his palm at the same time; that headache was getting worse. "Just... Let's just keep moving forward.

"You go first, I'll-- I'll watch behind us." He didn't relish the thought of having the robot at his back.

Barricade simply stared back at Qilby, optic shutters closing once as he waited for his words to register to the Meister. He knew that look, and the body language, as he'd seen it a thousand times over in his lifetime. It was the face of something backed into a corner and more likely to lash out, which Barricade might have actually laughed at. What, exactly, could Qilby possibly do to him? There was no laughter, though, because at present he was about the go up the wall himself if something startled him.

At Qilby's suggestion, he didn't move. Barricade was already jumping at something behind them that wasn't there, so there was no way he was letting the old man drag along behind him. Which pretty much left them right where they were, until one of them cracked completely.

"Here's a better idea," he said. "You've got one good hand and my Weapon form's going to make it better. So you and me - we resonate now or we're not going anywhere."

He really had no idea how difficult this was going to be, and resonating properly was the farthest thing from his mind right now. Transforming under these circumstances was going to be hellish, and he almost wished Bumblebee were here to sock him the face again to trigger it. Almost.

It was a trick. Qilby had pulled the same on enough people to know it when he saw one; his eyes narrowed in spite of himself. This brute thought he could fool him? When he'd played that game -- been forced to win it -- for all his life?

After all this time, he was finally fed up with hiding behind his masks, with plotting behind closed doors. It was so satisfying to be openly hostile for once, to look and sound exactly the way he felt without caring about the consequences, or better yet-- without caring whether or not he was validated. For the first time since he'd been imprisoned in that damned dimension, for the first time since he realized his gift of immortality was as much a prison as that would be-- he felt liberated.

"So eager to resonate--" His words were practically venomous, where they were once just mildy spiteful. "Where was that enthusiasm when we were being attacked?"

The old Eliatrope might not have been king, but he had the voice of one, when he had a mind to use it-- deep, powerful, the sort that filled up rooms and tried to overpower those wills that were weaker than his. The caverns carried his voice and made it seem even louder than it already was. Noisy, to be precise. Conspicuous. If a talkative meister and his sixteen foot tall metal companion had gone unnoticed by any living thing nearby, they certainly weren't now.

"Give me one good reason I should trust you now, machine."

Qilby's tone certainly gave him an impressive presence, but there were few things that truly intimidated Barricade. They started with Megatron and ended with Optimus Prime, both of which had the bite to back up their bark. It wasn't to say his words had no affect on Barricade, as they managed to wind him up even more and make him so tense he was practically vibrating with rage.

That brief moment of solidarity they'd shared after the Madness Wavelength hit was completely gone now, and Barricade stood up to his full height, claws flexing. His teeth rattled as he snarled, the sound reverberating down the passage after Qilby's voice.

"There was no reason for it then, you useless meat bag," he snapped, leaning over the Meister and taking one heavy step forward. Lifting one hand, he scraped his sharp fingers together to make sparks. "And you trust me now, or you don't - pick the second option and I'll take you back out of here in little pieces."

A few hundred yards away and around the blind corner of the passage, something stirred. The sound attracted it first, but now there was the scent of two souls. Not very powerful souls, unfortunately, but a meal was a meal.

Things were escalating. Good, let them escalate! He'd always been an instigator, never one to sit back passively as the world passed around him. Neither was he one to shrink from a challenge; he stood his ground solidly against Barricade's menacing advance, head tilted back arrogantly. Though much of that had to do with the fact that he was less than half the robot's size, he still managed to make it seem as if he was looking down on the much larger person, and not up.

It was with an almost gleeful grin -- full of oddly-sharp teeth, for a humanoid -- that he prepared to prod the lion in its cage even further. Qilby almost got that far, mouth slightly open with more goading words in store, before a faint noise made him snap his head forward down the passage.

A moment of sobering clarity hit him-- for one miraculous second, survival was more important than indulging his starved ego and, incredibly, he balked. He glanced back up at Barricade out of the corner of his eye and in that look was clear, obvious apprehension. "I..." He began, the weaker, gentler tone sounding positively foreign coming out of his mouth, now. "... I'm not useless."

Yeah, that was convincing. Qilby drew a shuddering breath and tried again. "I-- I don't think I'm quite feeling myself right now. You're right." After a moment's hesitation, he held out his hand. "Transform now, while we're both lucid."

Barricade was ready for it, either to snap back or start a damn fight regardless of who instigated. He'd had larger and nastier than Qilby back him into a corner and pressure him into a scuffle. The fact that he was still alive, thousands of years later, was proof enough of what he could face and survive.

The chance to make good on his threat was gone almost as quickly as it had come, as Qilby looked away from him and faltered. Oh, so now he agreed with him? Get him all wound up for a fight he'd been wanting since he arrived here, then revert to the meek old man? Furious, Barricade slammed his fist into the cavern wall above Qilby's head, before pulling away and walking half a stride back. He stilled when he picked up on the same noise that the Meister did, realizing now what had brought about the change. Nothing like a little outside pressure to put things into perspective.

He looked down at Qilby's offered hand, realizing he would have rather fight the man than try to transform. The easy way was never the right way, unfortunately. As for how useless Qilby thought he wasn't, Barricade would believe it only when he saw it.

"Fine," he growled, optics darting between the hand and the steadily increasing sound down the passage. Barricade was all too aware of how phenomenally bad what was about to say would sound. "Just - give me a minute."

Qilby turned his head away from the impact above his head-- not out of fear, or weakness, but simply to avoid the little pieces of cavern wall that showered over him. There it was again, his control was back. If that was Madness just now, it was... Intoxicating. Alluring, even. But the only thing he hated worse than having to fetter himself was not having the discipline to do it if he so desired. He valued freedom -- the freedom to be as horrible to Barricade as he pleased or not -- but not at the expense of his will, his own strength.

For all his assertiveness, that was a weakness he'd shown before, and it wasn't one he was going to show again if he had any say in the matter.

Qilby let his hand drop slowly, forcing himself to look more quizzical than frustrated when he urged, "But I thought you said you could--" He cut himself off, struggling to ignore the insistent pounding in his head. It was comforting, easier to think that the struggling feeling meant that he was warding off the Madness, that he was fighting and winning.

"Hold onto that anger if it helps you," he advised, sounding like his dry old self again and shooting slightly nervous glances up the tunnel. "If you can't transform and we die here, you won't get a chance to try and hurt me the way you've been wanting to this entire venture."

Barricade had never said he could do anything of the sort, nor had he said he couldn't. A simple lie of omission just kept things rolling along, and Qilby only needed to know what Barricade wanted him to know. If that didn't go both ways, he'd honestly be surprised.

He'd already tried treating the change like his usual transformation, but that hadn't worked. He'd gone through all the pseudo-meditation feel good nonsense (the best he could) and that hadn't worked either. Goading Bumblebee into knocking him down the stairs had done it, but there was no replicating that here. Now Qilby wanted him to hold onto his anger, when that was threatening to make him completely lose his mind? Maybe the Meister did want to die, after all.

"You have no idea," Barricade snarled, though he kept his distance. He struggled to put into use what Demona had told him about the Madness Wavelength, that focusing on what made him happy and restful would help fight it. Well, he'd had time to try to lengthen that list, but it was still fairly empty and pathetically short. You couldn't waste time mourning the loss of something if you never cared about it in the first place, and after everything he'd lost? There wasn't much point picking new things and watching them get to torn to shreds eventually.

Now it just meant he had to do the shredding first, and there was no way he was dying down here. The only thing that motivated him to keep Qilby alive was the requirement of his presence to do what he wanted. It was repulsive in almost every regard, but it would have to do, and it would have to be enough. And miraculously, it was just that - after only a few minutes of nothing happening, Barricade's form shifted down into something much smaller, leaving only a hollowed out version of his own clawed hand.

The loss of his headlights plunged the passage into darkness for a brief moment, until the glow of the mushrooms returned. The approaching noises persisted, coming disturbingly close now.

He'd never admit it in a million years, but he hadn't felt relief like he was feeling -- after seeing Barricade transform just now -- for a very, very long time. Qilby was about to say something about how he was sorry for doubting his partner (but certainly not sorry enough to sound like he meant it) but then he noticed just what he had transformed into.

There was no room for him to be picky, he knew that-- and he wasn't about to cause a big deal after all the blood and tears it took to get this far along... But that was his Weapon form? Really? After all this time he'd gone without wielding someone, the very first Weapon he happens upon turns into a hand? Either this universe was trying to throw him a bone, or was making fun of him. Qilby was more inclined to believe the latter. The obvious (and entirely tasteless) jokes about being lent a hand could be made later, however-- it sounded as if he was about to have more pressing matters to deal with.

"You make it look so easy," he quipped, tone light. Odds were looking up; he had the luxury of levity here. There was another moment's hesitation -- like the one earlier -- before he could bring himself to lay a hand on Barricade, but it was either resoluteness or desperation that finally made him take the plunge. He hoped this wasn't simply another way for the robot to bite off his good hand, or something.

With contact came the first sense of the other's soul wavelength: a faint, insistent presence like the Madness, but this was more alien, less welcoming. But this wasn't something he could fight or hope to control-- all of his theory, all of his research told him it was something he merely had to immerse himself in. Like drifting in the ocean, letting the currents carry him where he wanted to go. His own soul was old, like a tree with its deep-running roots planted firmly in the earth-- but even the most solid of trees had to bend so as not to shatter in a storm. Qilby knew what he wanted, and he'd do anything to achieve it, even if it meant quashing his ego to work with someone else. And what he wanted right this very second was not to die... That was all the motivation he needed to slip his only hand in the claw-like gauntlet, flexing a few fingers tentatively once it (he?) fit snugly.

"If it feels this strange for me, I can't even imagine what it's like for you," he muttered, marking this momentous occasion with a completely unnecessary comment.

Barricade wasn't exactly thrilled about it himself - Bumblebee got to be a suit of armor, and he was his own fragging hand. Good news was, there was a lot more strength in his arms and hands than one would think, and hopefully that translated over to his weapon form. Whether or not he was mobile in this form remained to be seen, but at present he simply waited for Qilby to get with the program and pick him up.

The resonation, when it happened, was startling and foreign until he managed to catalog it as something more familiar. He'd served as a host before, and those like Frenzy were hardwired to his systems, and even had a physical presence in his own frame. He could monitor everything about the drone when they were connected, and he wasn't as adverse to that sort of proximity. Working alone was better, but if he could think of Qilby as a newly acquired symbiont, all the better.

Once their souls were about as in sync as they were going to be, Barricade's weapon form shifted to fit Qilby's five fingered hand, the armor sliding seamlessly into place. The pressure was just short of being uncomfortably tight, but that sensation went along with Barricade's apprehension about this whole set up. He resisted the feel of Qilby's wavelength against his at first, finally relenting when survival instincts overrode his defenses. Barricade had thousands of years of life behind him, certainly not as many as Qilby, but his age only showed in how long he'd been so angry and bitter and violent.

"I've had passengers before," he said, trying to figure out what sort of vantage point he had here. So far, not much. When Qilby flexed his fingers, he would feel the tension and strength of the claws. "But this is pushing it."

Perhaps half a dozen yards away in the dark passage, something let out a low, guttural growl. All the speculation and curiosity about resonation got shoved to the back burner.

"Claws ought to be sharp enough to do damage," he said hurriedly. "Otherwise try crushing it."

Resonation wasn't bad, per se, just... Foreign, uncomfortable. He'd spent the last ten thousand years alone, in a solitude more absolute than anyone could imagine, and had apparently forgotten what it felt like to be so close and connected to another being. That was a bond he only shared with his sister and she was Goddess-knows how far away now, her presence completely gone from his head (if not his heart.)

Qilby would never be able to regard Barricade as close as he did her, but he sure could tolerate him for the sake of a little power. And there certainly was at least a bit of that in the robot's Weapon form-- he could feel it like a coiled spring when he moved his fingers. A claw, then. It felt more machine than weapon, and fighting at close range was definitely not his strongest suit, but the Eliatrope was nothing if not adaptable.

"I'm a fast learner," he reassured his companion out loud. He was more comfortable now. Not completely sure of himself, because he had no idea what he was capable of with this Weapon, but gone were his nervous looks, replaced with a keen, calculating look. Qilby had this claw, sure, but his intelligence had always been the superior of his weapons.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't believe in the advantage of surprise." Or it didn't need it. He tensed, ready to defend from an initial attack from whatever was lurking in the dark.

It was more than a little weird being connected to someone without a tangible means of monitoring it - no cables, no diagnostics or vitals to read and track. This was a lot more personal, and even worse, he had to depend entirely on Qilby to be able to fight. It'd be just his luck the old man would have been bluffing about his skills when it came to combat of any sort. At the very least he could pick up on the Meister's confidence in his own abilities, which was promising enough.

Most Kishin Eggs didn't operate under the guise of stealth, and this one was no exception. There was no telling how long it had lived in this cave, but it was certainly enough time for it to lose all resemblance to the human it had once been. It pulled itself along on two powerful front legs, with claws like daggers sinking into the dirt. Barricade had seen plenty of freaky organic aliens in his lifetime, but this one looked like some mutant cross between a snake, a skink, and a pincushion. The smooth scales that covered its body erupted in spines around its joints and all down its back, all of them shock white except where they'd been stained with the blue fungus.

"Why would it? Not like it has any natural predators down here," he finally replied. He watched the Kishin lumber up to a stop, tilting its head as it regarded them with hungry interest. A long, forked blue tongue took a lazy taste of the air between them, and that was apparently all it needed to confirm it wanted to kill them.

It moved faster than something its size should, powering forward on those strong legs and closing the last few yards between them. Opening its jaws, the Kishin roared, lunging to take a chunk out of Qilby.

He didn't have to consult one of his beloved books to know that this was no natural Earth animal-- this was obviously a kishin egg. So that was what would happen to him if he chose to devour a human soul? Qilby was glad he wasn't so easily swayed by temptation, even if it was such an easy route to power.

"It's hard to believe this thing was once human," he murmured, almost reverently. What sort of corruption could induce such a change in someone? Not even the Stasis on his universe could so thoroughly mutate a creature like this. If only he had the chance to study this further, like the Witches so obviously were! There was just enough time for him to lament the fact that he'd been forced to join the wrong side of this war before the thing attacked. Time to focus.

The beast was faster than it looked, but so was Qilby-- the act of resonation, even as tenuous as the link was, filled him with an energy he hadn't known in millennia. He felt stronger, faster already, and he hadn't even had a chance to attack yet. Leaping nimbly to its side as its lunge carried it past him, he both avoided the bite and raked Barricade's claws down the side of its neck. But however razor-sharp as the blades were, they found little purchase on the kishin egg's tough scales.

The passageways were narrow. Perhaps if he could find its way to its back, he'd be able to avoid its front end long enough to find a good weak spot.

Human or not, Barricade tried to imagine what eating its soul would be like, which was far more interesting to him than any mutation. Consuming the soul of a defeated enemy to gain strength sounded far more satisfying than ripping out their spark. It went beyond psychological victory, but it was a pity he was confined to the souls of corrupted Kishin Eggs. Anything else, and he would wind up like that thing - or worse.

"I don't care if it used to be a rock, just kill the damn thing." Apparently it was more difficult taking the back seat in a fight than he'd thought. If he couldn't fight, then he'd run away, but now he was trapped somewhere halfway between. He felt himself connect with the scaly hide, though the sensation was oddly detached, muted by whatever ~~magic~~ science made him what he was. It was almost like he was in a deep recharge cycle, except awake at the same time.

The Kishin grunted and snapped its jaws at missing its meal, barely reacting to Qilby's strike. It twisted around to keep him in sight, spine twisting at an ugly angle to haul itself around for another go. Not a single bone or vertebrae popped as it made the turn, its freakish flexibility putting it right back on the warpath. This time it kept its nose to the ground, rushing forward to take out the Meister's legs.

"And here I was, planning on having a nice chat with it," he drawled back. Didn't need to tell him twice that this monster needed to die. Maybe there'd be enough of it leftover for him to inspect once they were through with it. "Oh--"

The thing was flexible, he'd grant it that-- his brows raised in surprise as it contorted easily, matching his movements, and he had just enough time to prepare for its imminent attack. With a simple hand motion, Qilby brought all four of Barricade's curved talons to as much of a point as he could get it, leaving him with something almost like a spearhead. At the moment, slashing and cutting weren't options on that thick hide... But piercing might be.

The Meister stood his ground, driving the point of all four claws downward, trusting-- hoping that he was quick enough to pin it to the ground before its jaws reached his legs. He'd already lost one limb; he wasn't exactly eager to miss any more of them.

Well, at least they were both feeling like themselves again if they could take the time to snipe at one another. Almost back on solid ground. After that last quip he kept his mouth shut - Qilby losing limbs meant he was going to start losing limbs, too. Somehow, he didn't think they'd reattach as easily here as they did back home.

The Kishin hadn't survived this long on brute strength alone, spotting the Meister's posture for it what it was. It managed to snake its head out of the path of the attack, but the rest of it wasn't in the clear. Despite the odd detachment, Barricade still felt the warm, wet splash of blood as the attach pierced the soft skin between the shoulder and the leg. The monster let out an angry yelp, pulling back as blood gushed down its leg. It only put a few paces between them before angrily smacking its tail against the passage wall, sending chunks of fungus flying through the air.

Flicking its tongue out into the air again, it started pawing at the soft dirt with its uninjured arm, like it was getting ready for a charge. Maybe it had only been playing with its food before, but now it had puffed itself up, spikes bristling to the point it practically filled the entire passageway. Without much fanfare, it lunged for them again, mouth wide open this time.

"I hope it chokes on us," Barricade said. That'd count as a victory, right?

Slippery little thing, wasn't it? Even if his attack didn't quite find its intended target, the way the creature's softer bits yielded beneath his Weapon's claws was equally satisfying. He wasn't even as upset at the way its blood stained his long, billowing white sleeve as he'd normally have been.

Qilby didn't press the attack, instead taking the time to put as much distance between them as his enemy seemed to be trying to do. There was the distinct sense that he was being sized up, and found more difficult prey than this predator had imagined he'd be. This surely wasn't all that the kishin egg had to offer, and he wasn't about to charge headlong into a fight not knowing what it was really capable of. He had a mind, and the memory of what happened when he lost it was still painfully fresh in his memory... So he was going to use it.

"Oh ye of little faith," he replied out of the corner of his mouth. But his growing confidence hit its first wall when the beast swelled up like a moth flashing its wings to scare off its attacker-- and if intimidation was its intent, it was doing a decent job at it.

No room to sidestep this one. Qilby retreated swiftly, claw held out before him defensively, trying to buy himself some time; he knew from centuries of experience that when a brute thought it had its victim on the run, it made stupid mistakes. And when it did, he'd be there to capitalise on them.

The only thing Barricade had absolute faith in was himself, and his ability to survive. Really, he just hoped the Kishin choked on Qilby, and that the Meister didn't get the wise idea to just throw him into its open mouth. Hopefully Qilby knew that only a resonating pair could take out a Kishin, and he couldn't run that far before the damn thing caught him.

About a thousand different possibilities for how to attack the beast ran through his processor, but all of them included him fighting it by himself. He wasn't very good at this whole teamwork thing, let alone instructing someone else what to do. Trying to figure out what to tell a tiny old man what to do when a monstrous beast was coming to eat them was harder than it sounded.

"We're running out of ground here, old man," he said. The passage twisted off into a blind turn, and that usually meant more trouble was around the curve.

The Kishin barreled ahead, snapping its as its prey stayed just out of range. The smell of their souls was still a weak snack, but a snack that bit back certainly wouldn't stand. It thundered down the passage hard enough to shake dirt loose from the ceiling, spikes scraping off mushrooms and scattering phosphorescent blue all over the place. There was no such luck of it being allergic to the stuff, but it was forced to close its maw and shake its head to keep its eyes clear. That didn't slow its charge by much, but had lost some of its momentum.

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go go team paranoia

the most ineffectual

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