Land Ho! All Over Again (chris)

Noise, alertness, searching. Deidre had heard the so called 'music' play, classical and then suddenly cut out like someone had decided to shut it off, and make it stop. Like a spider, she crawled up the outside wall of the warehouse, her gauntlets digging into the sturdy concrete and mortar walls, each movement making this soft, click, clack, click, until she was on the roof. Now, it was all down to her slipping through an open window or something, to investigate this most curios disturbance in her home, a place the behemoths rarely went to, after a number of their fellows simply "disappeared" after entering this place.

Popping a window open quietly, silently, she once again displayed an agile sense of balance and direction as she scurried down the inner wall, landing on the ground with a dull, soft thud. Someone was in her home? an intruder? another fool perhaps? Nonetheless, she would find out who this person was, and if he was a threat, terminate him.

The numerous shelves as she scaled them, provided an ample vantage point - a place from which she could survey her domain, her castle, her home. All at once, she spotted the man - a rough looking person, who had obviously seen better days. Moving closer, low to the ground she wanted to get a better look at this person, this interloper, and examine him until she wanted to make herself known. Silently, she drew from underneath her coat, a long, viciously curved knife and kept it low to the ground so as to not attract undue attention. If he was a threat to which she was not certain, she would dump him, like all the others into the water under the docks.

For a hunter would be foolish to leave a trail for prey to pick up on. Prey? or merely someone who wants out of the rain? I will know, when the knowledge is due.

Closer and closer she got to him, this Mike stokes, so close that she was almost on top of him. He was a strange one, ripping and tearing at his clothing like it were a malignant, cancerous growth, that so desperately needed to be expunged from the body. Watching him search for clothing prior to his current course of action, was also.....intriguing to the humanoid alien. As she watched him search and scour the entirety of the place with no success in sight she decided to climb down to ground level. A risk, but one she was willing to take to better observe this strangers patterns and habits.

Quickly, she decended to the ground, the tail end of her coat flapping against the friction of the stale, cold and humid air before vanishing behind a box of crates, like a flash of burgundy and black. Once again, she stuck to just outside his peripheral vision a shadow just in the corner of his eye that watched and observed, proving to be nothing more than just that, a mere shadow; harmless and benign. She wanted to wait, to watch and once she found out why he was here, approach him. Curiousness was part of her nature, as is coldness and cruelty. Deidre was a harsh person, but even someone as cold and solitary as she, could always make do with company from time to time.

Strange orange clothing, different from what the many people of this massive....jungle of stone, metal and glass wear. I wonder what it could mean? Narrowing her eyes into slits, she let out a breathless, silent sigh, before moving once again from her position to a different vantage point, to continue her observations in silence.

Deidre didn't baulk, nor budge from her position as she looked at the back of his head, craning her head to the side in confusion. "These.....guns. Noisy, sloppy, prefer getting close to prey, getting personal." She whispered into his ear, soft and low, a hiss like air or gas, escaping from a crack in a pipe with every word. Still, she kept that knife pressed against his neck. Never once, did she ever show a sign of fear, it was more like an overbearing amount of caution on her part, she knew all too well, that prey often bit back when cornered. This was no different, then when she hunted on Sullidious. Only, the prey looked more like her, thought more like her, possibly even fought like her.

Nonetheless, she knew all too well how ineffective firearms were against her durability and her clothing. "Your outfit....strange, where you come from?" More questions, more out of a need to satiate her growing curiosity, than find out who he was, or what he did. Those things had no importance right now. What she wanted, was just what she wanted at this moment, where he came from, and how he got here. Her index finger was tucked firmly within the karambit knives looped pommel a protective measure she guessed, to prevent being disarmed in a fight, or perhaps if the prey ambushed you. Whatever the reason, these were useful for hunting with.

"Again. Who are you?"

"Mike stokes.....mine is, Deidre Tuain." Even as he pushed back against her she never lost her cool, never really panicked. Her eyes glancing over to the pistol that was now staring directly at her she could only smile a cold, perhaps cruel, smile. Ah, so he's a hunter like me, silently musing to herself, ignoring the gun which was now, at present, aiming for her forehead she let out a soft yawn - bored and perhaps, a little bit less than impressed.

"You hunter, not prey. Good." Again, she whispered into his ear, seemingly unafraid of the firearm and technically, she was unafraid of it. After all, thing like those proved ineffective on things like her, and the other creatures on the planet she came from. But really, violence only begot violence, something Deidre was a little more than willing to finish, if someone else starts it. But right now, she just locked eyes with him, her pale crimson reds staring into his greens without a single shred of emotion in them. "Why are you here?" She asked without a seconds provocation, as she continually stared into his eyes, never once showing a sign of fear that a gun was placed to her head, or rather, she just couldn't justify a reason for the need to be scared. guns were about as useful against her people, as a splash of water to the face. With the exception of higher caliber weapons that is.

"Behemoths....that their name? Weak as dogs. Killed many of them that came in here." Pulling the knife away from his neck she tucked the curved blade into it's sheath, hooked to one of the leather belts wrapped around her waist. Turning her back on Mike she stalked off for a rather unremarkable wooden box with a small symbol; an elongated skull with four arrows pointing outwards at the one, three, six and twelve o' clock positions. Reaching into the box, she retrieved her gauntlets which shone like black crystal. "Behemoths annoy me, dogs and rats. Not worth hunting. But good for tracking."

Slipping the gauntlets on, she scraped her fingers across the metal shelves, like nails on chalk as it left deep, impressionable gashes in the semi-sturdy surface as she turned back towards Mike, and finally she did smile, a cold cruel smile as her eyes locked onto him once again, displaying that same emotionless detachment she always had when hunting or killing or just, relaxing. That alone,made it quite hard to read her face. "Escape...." That word was unfamiliar to her, never heard it ever in her life and she most certainly, wouldn't know what a prison was. Sullidious never had prisons, it was well, primitive by comparison to earths infrastructure, but most of the stuff crafted back home was surprisingly advanced in comparison to stuff you could find on earth. Like her gauntlets, which were powerful amplifiers for psychic energies, allowing her to form her psy blades.

"I have jer-key. Food, if interested." What she was referring to was of course, beef jerky, the dried meat snack and she had quite a few.....crates of it in the main warehouse office. All of it stolen from other warehouses. Pointing to the office she let out a sigh, "over there help yourself." That's all he'd find really, being that Deidre primarily only ate meat, and the occasional fruit if it suited her. "Being generous, once and only." He wasn't going to get anything else out of her afterwards. Anything else, he'd have to find on his own.

She was already gone, vanished up into the shelving units again, they got the bravery to return again? Well, it would seem they needed a reminder that this place was off limits to weaklings. After all, no matter how many of them they brought they'd all meet the same fate as their comrades; Death. The tips of her clawed gauntlets, tapped and scraped across the metal shelves, echoing through the entire warehouse with a sublime level of foreboding dread, it seemed to come from everywhere - bouncing off walls, coming from up and below, behind and in front. The eerily soft, gentle scraping of the metal seemed to get closer then suddenly grow quiet, as if fading away into the ambient background noise before starting again.

That was probably when Deidre piled into the entire group of behemoths, her hands slamming into the two nearest her, quickly grabbing them by whatever loose article of clothing was available, before driving them into each other, skull to skull with a loud crack. Letting go, a flash of red illuminated her body, giving the alien girl an otherwise devilish appearance, before spearing those same two behemoth thugs through their stomachs, which elicited a cacophonous scream from the two of them. Deidre was in the thick of things - two human shields, still alive and kicking and screaming, between herself and the rest of her prey.

Where was Mike? she didn't know, nor care at this point. She was in the fight, in the killzone, and right now she was getting ready to start making people suffer and die. "Naut ssran ussta draeval" She spoke up, in her language, her own dialect - as cold as she was with her broken, imperfect English and then she came around a hard as possible, swinging the writhing, agonized forms of the two behemoth gang member, impaled on her blades for their comrades. She was strong, strong enough to dent and buckle steel with her bare hands and now she was using two people in such a brutal, ungraceful fashion. It wasn't that she couldn't do it, she just didn't want to do it in that way. They needed to be taught a lesson, a lesson in pain, fear and ultimately, death.

Deidre was not one for tolerance of those, deemed too stupid for their own good and her methods of dealing with such.....fools was harsh and brutal, and for a lack of a better term, unsurvivable. That was how she was, and that is how she will always be. A creature of strength, that was cold as ice and had little use for those that could not, or simply would not find the will or drive to survive. She had no use for such pathetic creatures they were prey to her - weak and soft, something to simply satiate her aggravations upon. This was how she worked; survival of the fittest, strong over the weak. That was her motto, her creed, her Modus operandi. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

(TL: Not worth my time.)