“It's fast, armored, but can’t turn worth a damn! Hit it in the flanks and at the back of the neck, and when it opens its mouth, be somewhere else! it fries prey!” Garrett was the first to earn the beast's ire as it turned its head as it loosed a torrent of crackling blue energy. Shawn would have conjectured magical plasma, because it didn't fire off at the speed of light.
Either way, Garret leaped from his perch in a blaze of speed, a few green feathers scattered as lightning zapped the tower, scorching the wood and exploding the timber where it struck, instantly boiling whatever moisture was in it.
Halsey, ever seen anything like this?
Nope! Whatever vestigial knowledge I have isn't included, and fried Aveeran is not a dish we should plan on making, let alone becoming!
He was already sprinting to cover as the group scattered to encircle the beast, rifles firing and doing superficial damage. Regia firing a torrent of a focused beam of water, as thin as a piano wire. The jets of water traced across the hide, cutting into its flesh; it roared in outrage, blood dripping lightly from the wounds.
"Not effective enough! You need to get closer!” Shawn called out, feeling the beast focusing on him--this thing was targeting him next. He flapped his wings and dodged a blast so close, he could feel the static on his feathers; he came out of his evasion and sprung into the air, just as Regia spread her teal and blue wings.
It occurred to him that he hadn't seen her flying in great detail–despite the wings, the Aveeran didn't fly as often as he would have expected, except for a short distance across town.
But her feathers rippled under the air current, gleaming from under the sunbeams working past the trees; she was grace and daring, firing her rifle at the weaker flanks while flying and dodging the deadly return fire.
He'd seen a lot of crazy things, but this one, he could appreciate.
Less appreciative, was him landing on the Thunderhead and gripping it for dear life while he pulled a white-hot stream of Etteria charge, the flames in his palm erupted into a short column of flame with the intensity of a plasma cutter. He slammed down at the base of the neck, smelling burnt flesh and hearing the creature screech beneath him. He felt a crackle of static across his body–
Shawn, full body shield!
He didn't waste a second and drew his Etteria from that different thread of energy--his force barrier power. He pushed a barrier outward across his body as he sprung off, sensing the danger. A deafening boom left him disoriented and he flapped his wings to gain altitude, dodging a swipe of razor-sharp teeth. He didn't dodge the swipe of its elongated forward leg quite fast enough.
It felt like he got hit by a linebacker, and his barrier shattered into gold sparks on impact.
He managed to tuck and use his wings to slow his landing, tumbling a few meters. He felt bruised and battered and his flank ached, but nothing was bleeding, and he couldn't feel any broken bones. the barrier had definitely saved his life--but a follow-up hit could still kill him.
That walking tank seemed fixated on him, rearing its head in response to rifle fire. One of the human recruits loosed an energy whip that crackled black and purple, scarified flesh marking his arm as the energy traced across him. It bit into and seared the monster's flesh, and it whirled around to fire a stream of that energy it seemed to have no shortage of.
The man dove and ducked to cover behind a stone barrier, while Shawn stumbled to his feet, groaning. This damn thing kept coming after him, and another dose of a near miss of deadly plasma energy only cemented one grim notion in place: this thing held a grudge.
Okay, new plan! We need to slow this thing down! I need to try out my ice gestalt, but there's no standing water–
“REGIA! get the ground soaked, and get that beast wet!” He screamed out. She wasted no time in jetting a torrent of water while airborne; the force of the water shoving the creature's head aside, stumbling as it charged after Shawn.
He pushed that cool, calming sensation down his veins, condensing that power down for a burst effort. Hoar frost climbed along the tips of his claws, and across his palms, as he leaped into the air, barely avoiding clipping his wings as he veered between two trees. The thunderhead roared and smashed past the vegetation, and he felt the breeze on his tail feathers, from how close it was.
Would you stop being prey and kill this thing?!
Halsey, the best apex predators hunt in packs!
Oh, that’s bullshit, you’re saying that to not leave me in a panic, you feathered maniac!
Shawn would have been amazed at the reactivity of his increasingly complex companion, but he was still dealing with said monster, intent on turning him into chicken wings. He whirled around, prepping his frost blast on the still-soaked forest floor, with Telga dousing the creature with water.
Now!
Shawn waited for the creature to commit, then rolled to the side as it charged past him, gnashing teeth missing his feather crest by mere inches. He came out of the roll, wings taking a bruising, and slammed down on the ground with all his might, sending his Etteria forward in a frigid blast.
The frost screamed across the water that had pooled in areas, freezing instantly and spreading at an incredible pace. The thunderhead skidded over the slippery surface and fell on all fours, sliding along while Regia doused it on water, the jet freezing on impact.
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“Hit it from the flank! Now!” Shawn screamed out, panting and feeling dangerously overtaxed from the burning sensation that was running through his body, in a vertical column down his chest. He grabbed his dagger off his vest, while the team poured fire onto the creature.
But the immobilization didn’t last long, and the creature twisted its body, shattering the icy encasement on it like it was nothing more than brittle glass. It launched a counterattack in a torrent of deadly energy from its jaw. One of the humans that had been closing, cycling rifle rounds, caught a stray forking bolt from the plasma. The energy seared his arm and chest, and he went down, screaming as his flesh cooked.
Shawn however, had sprinted and got to flight speed, flapping his wings with all his might, bracing his arms, and holding the dagger in a manner like he was using a lance. He hoped this wasn’t a suicidal charge, and he kept his force barrier active, that burning sensation in his chest intensifying in a distinctly uncomfortable way. His target on the creature was the heavily burned segment, at the base of the neck.
An errant strike of that electrical energy hit him–glancing off his barrier after it had rebounded. The deflected energy turned a chunk of tree into exploding bark and flash-boiled sap, and a piece of debris grazed by the knuckle of his wing. He ignored the stinging sensation and lined up for his target, bracing himself.
He drove the dagger deep with the impact and landed squarely on its back, staggering the creature, and he heard it screech. Tough hide gave way to softer flesh underneath and he sliced viciously, opening up a wound that gushed blood. It reared back, trying to fling him off, but he dug his talons in while the rain of firepower hit it in the flanks. Trask also leaped into the fray, claws coated in shadowy particles that ripped through the creature's hide and tore at the fleshy bits underneath.
“Shawn, care package!” Garrett flitted along with a burst of green and red feathers and dropped a canister with a latch–the Aveeran equivalent of a grenade he’d handed him before. Shawn knew what to do after observing it on the orbital retreat. He held on for dear life while the creature flailed, digging his taloned feet in for that extra bit of grip.
Shawn, I’m not entirely convinced you’re wholly sane in this head of yours!
I’m pretty sure I'm developing an unhealthy craving for action and danger, so, you’re not wrong!
He pulled the pin, shoved the now-armed device deep into the wound, and flung himself off of the creature with a burst of feathers. A ray of intense energy raked across his golden barrier, and even with the protection it afforded, it felt like a searing spike of pain and a burning pain radiating along his wing and shoulder. His wing fluttered and he banked to the right unintentionally. He flared his tail, to try to get as much deceleration as he could out of his out of control descent.
He skidded to the ground in a tumble, claws raking across the icy surface and screeching to a halt with a sound like…well, claws on a chalkboard. He turned to see the beast open its jaw with leering hatred aimed in his general direction, energy crackling. He knew the fuse was about to blow–hopefully, he didn't get the timing–
The beast’s neck and a good chunk of its back exploded in a gory fountain from the explosive. He clutched his hands over his head, shielding himself from the showering debris and viscera–his barrier hadn’t quite recovered, and he took a shower of monster guts and viscera.
When he dared to look past slimy, ruddy grossness, he saw the creature teetering sideways with a blank stare, before it listed onto its flank in slow motion and tumbled to the ground, bleeding out its insides from the massive wound. He put out a fist and screamed in triumph.
That had been too dangerous. but damn, did it feel good to score a victory like that.
Yeah, you’re hella crazy, Shawn. Don’t do that again.
He laughed. He let out a full, cawing laugh, even though he was showered in monster blood and other bits and pieces, and ignored the pain aching across his body, while the others cheered. Claire dashed over to hoist him to his feet. “Yeah, guys, that’s how it’s done!” he roared out. “Have a plan, and be prepared to be a little bit crazy!”
“Holy shit, did you just–I can’t believe you just–don’t ever do that again!” she screamed, her face contorted in both excitement–and sheer outrage. A punch to his wing still couldn’t stop his laughter, and she grimaced at the gross monster bits still sticking to his feathers. “You look like a serial killer!” she screamed out, but her composure broke, and she let out a titter of laughter. “I just…I mean, I’m laughing and I…oh this is so messed up.”
“Yes, it is,” he managed to gasp out between laughs, and the others gathered around him–with Garrett checking him for any obvious injuries. “Oh, ow, not the wing,” he panted, trying to catch his breath as the veteran warrior probed his wounds, and forced him to a sitting position.
“Bruised, there’s a good laceration at the knuckle. It’ll heal quickly, along with those cuts.” Shawn’s eyes widened, realizing what he’d forgotten in the chaos, and he glanced over to where Lance had been.
“Shit, Lance took a hit–”
“He’s alright,” Raine called out, and helped the injured man up, who hissed and had clear scarring on his torso and arm, the skin blackened in small streaks. But he managed a weak smile, despite Raine's probing. “Glancing blow. You’re lucky you’re not cooked, man.”
“Any closer and I’d be scattered to the landscape like those trees it zapped,” Lance coughed out, holding his chest. He summoned his dark and purple energy to his fingertips and traced over the injury. “But that bad bastard was going to have to work harder than that to kill me.”
Shawn let out a shaky exhale, and glanced at the blood on him with a muted disgust. “Hey, Regia. Can I ask a favor?”
“You want to ask me a favor? Chasms, Shawn, you just helped take out a Thunderhead! I’m lucky you’re not monster food right now!” she shouted–but the relief in her eyes was palpable. “You know, Claire’s right. The blood-drenched look just isn’t you.”
“Just hose me down,” he stated with resignation, then handed off his items to Claire. “Garrett, any risk there’s more of those things out there?”
“Second pack of monsters that have run into town. Strange,” he murmured. “I wonder if something is driving them.”
“Like…what? Bigger, scarier monsters?” Claire dared to ask. “A lot of animals will also scatter well ahead of natural disasters–they have a sixth sense for it, at least, back on Earth.”
“Or, armies on the move,” Garrett proposed, rubbing his beak gently, before nodding to Regia. “Okay, hose him off, I’ll take him to the medical. Raine, is Lance okay to move?!” he called out
“I'm good, Lieutenant,” Lance growled, and gave the man a knowing nod.
“You’re gonna go to the apothecary, no questions asked. Raine, Trask, get him on a stretcher. Regia, Claire, take our daring star of the moment, too. Shawn, a word to the wise, protecting your teammates is great and all, but–”
Shawn sensed it when Garrett frowned and pulled at his tunic. “Shawn, you’re kinda glowing. What’s with that?”
“Uh…I dunno, I’m not doing that. Not on purpose–”
A spasming pain wracked his body and he staggered to one knee, and he reflexively dug his talons into the soft earth and patches of ice rapidly melting beneath him. A sickening ache filled his chest, and he clutched at it, unable to catch his breath. “Can’t…” he tried to get the words out, but they were a whisper.
Everything hurt. Inside, his heart was hammering, and he couldn’t draw enough breath. He was only held upright by Claire and Regia, and Garrett grabbed a vial off his vest, instructing them to tilt his head back.
He didn’t protest at that battery acid of a liquid he remembered from before, and he struggled to remain conscious, nodding his head weakly.
“Get him to the apothecary, now! Go get Chakra and make sure he’s got what we need!”
Might have overdone it on that one, Shawn...
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