Log:Explorer's Guild: Ithor Disastor
Explorer's Guild: Ithor Disastor
OOC Date: June 26, 2018
Location: Ithor
Participants: Explorer's Guild: Corr Waldin, Yoska Lash, Maireni, Siha Archer, and Netep Muri
ITHOR
It is a jungle world, full of lush foliage, breathtaking overlooks, and vicious creatures. "Only three continents on this planet have ever been explored," Corr is saying to the others, sitting in the copilot's seat as they swoop in towards the surface. Muri is driving, he don't do that noise. "The other /two/, making five in total," because he is an expert mathematician, "have never been touched by Ithorian hands. Or feet. They got this weird thing where they don't want to live on their own planet," he explains, with a shrug. "But, I'm not here to judge 'em, I didn't much care for my planet either, so, I guess you gotta keep an open mind about these things. But uh, anyway, the uh." His eyes narrow as he turns to glance out the viewport.
"They don't want /nobody/ down there but when I heard about the whole 'never been explored' thing, and as we're the Explorer's Guild and all, I reckon it's prob'ly 'bout time somebody changed that. For the good of the galaxy." A finger points at Muri. "Make sure those transmitters are turned off." UH OH. They're TRESPASSING. "At any rate, nobody knows what we might find, on account of the whole 'sacred forest' thing, so be on the look-out." Indicating a clearing below, their intrepid leader activates the landing ramp, opening the tiny shuttle up for the crew to disembark and revealing the jungle. The jungle looks... friendly! It's colorful, with blue and pink fungi clinging to the rocks and trees, and of the trees themselves, many are varying shades of blue, whose branches are locked together in a tight, intricate web that forms a crisscrossing canopy over the jungle floor.
"I also don't care for your planet," announces the indomitable Yoska Lash, currently squatting on a cargo crate with a compact mirror while he touches up his eyeliner. "It sounds boring. It's probably beige. I would die. I would lit.er.ally die. I'm okay with trespassing though, yah. We used to do that all the time on Kuat. We still do that in New Vertica. Ai yah, Mari, remember that wedding in the private gardens? Invite only. Heh heh. Best appetizers I ever had in my LIFE and an open bar. That was dope. Until we got thrown out. Nah but those bouncers were cool." He watches the jungle come up around the ship, dispassionately. "If I get ate up by a kriffin jungle bird, I don't want none of my shit to go to my cousin Hujo, ya feel me? MARI. MARI PAY ATTENTION THIS IS IMPORTANT. Nothing for Hujo."
Maireni standing beside Yoska, trying to pull on her armor while listening (and occasionally bumping into) him. Sorry Guyliner. "Mmmm they had those meaty things with all the crisply bits on top and that sauce. It was so good. We gotta make that." They will never make that. Yank yank, armor, she's never put it on before. "What? Hujo is great! It's Lujo you should deny! He snores. And he smells. Also I'm pretty sure he stole my lucky rings."
Muri pilots them in with a mildly perturbed wrinkle in her brow, uncharacteristically quiet as a finger from her left hand reaches obediently overhead and delivers a silencing 'flick' to said transmitter. These mother forests are sacred, SO sacred that Ithor's own children don't dare set foot upon leaf nor pebble. And here they are. Professional defilers.
BUT. She /is/ a little hard-up for cash, at the moment, so...maybe they'll find something good. "We're here," Cap'n Muri announces the obvious overhead when the ship gently ecclipses some microfauna doodling about unawares and crushes a few variety of unknown flora under its landing gear. "Don't eat anything." The latter added perhaps for certain Ryn's benefit. Once the Racnoss is powered down, she takes time shrugging into her vest - like it's really going to help - and rearranges her arm out of its sling. It'll be fine.
Corr's not dumb, he just seems that way, and he can tell something is bothering his pilot. "We're gonna be real respectful," he promises her, gathering up his blaster pistol and jamming it into the holster worn low on his belt. "We're the Explorer's Guild, not the Industrial Prospectin' Guild. That was /one time./" Oh right, Mustafar. Ha. This will totally not be like that.
Stepping down the ramp to enter the jungle, Corr leads the way with a sense of direction and purpose that he's not really feeling, just sort of heading in a 'that way' direction, away from the ship. The trees have crystalline bark, smooth as glass, and glow with a sort of dim inner light. "Yeah, also, these blue ones," because not all the trees are blue, "they're alive or somethin'. Like they can think." He eyes the nearest stand of blue trees, their interlinked branches radiating a vaguely mystical light. "And I think that's pretty neat," he says loudly towards them. "But there's others that don't think, but /do/ eat people, so, watch out for those." The jungle begins to thicken almost immediately, closing around the Explorers as they venture further inside.
"I am super not gonna be respectful." That's Yoska again, BIG SHRUG as he pockets his mirror, guy liner on fleek. "Just saying." He blows Muri a kiss and then scampers off his crate, following Corr and trying to shove Maireni as he goes. "Lujo's okay. I think he's out of prison now. Are you talking about that one Gathering where you cried for like three days because somebody took your rings? That wasn't Lujo, that was me. Been lucky ever since." He hasn't. Attracted to shiny objects, like a magpie, he's sort of trailing in Corr's general direction, but also, drifting somewhat closer to the attractive glowy blue trees.
If there was a helmet for this armor, Maireni left it on the ship, but that was an intentional move probably, because she's got her hat perched atop the serious POOF of hair on her head. It means business. "THAT WAS YOU?" She finishes pulling on the armor, which isn't done up right, and scrambles after Yoska, fury in her eyes, and absolutely no desire to be respectful to this sacred land or whatever in her heart. "You told me it was Lujo-- you lied to me?" One hand rests atop her heart, and she looks horrified. No, aghast. AGHAST! "Do you still have my rings? I want them back. Give me back the rings." She moves in closer to her brother, like she plans on trying to take some of his rings, which might be some of her rings, but some of her rings are definitely his, and none of those rings belonged to either of them originally.
Was this a sacred forest? It /was/ a sacred forest. Because the Sy'dartha comes zooming in, zipping around up above briefly, looking for Corrs' ship from her vantage point because her transmitters are already off. Professional smuggler/bountyhunter yo. FWOOOOSH. The treeline wrinkles as she drops down into it, leaves burning from her engines, puffering up, blue glowing trees folding out of the way as she nestles in between a few. Birds flounce off in a flutter, cawing and croaking with annoyance, other animals darting off and away as the feets of the ship touch down on the ground firmly, crushing flowers and the like beneath their weight. SHNKT. SNAP. Out goes the ramp, further destroying this and that flora, the Makers' hand no doubt curling into a first to get bitten down on as Siha emerges from the airlock, the woman pausing briefly to lockdown her ship. Boop boop boop. Full gear, sword and gun on either hip, helmet atop her head, music playing within her helmet softly which means she wiggles her hips in time to the beat, "Hey, nerds." Siha will finally greet with a flourished twirl around, sauntering down the ramp and giving a flower a kick, sending the birds of paradise lookalike top flying off. Ha. Boop. "Nice. They really do like birds when you do that to 'em." Vox'd voice coming out with a note of satisfaction, "So." Hands plop on her hips, "I got the notes. No murderin'. I can handle that." Yep, she'll just ..wander off towards the Boring Man of Beige, nodding to Yoska and Maireni, "Hey." A nod to Muri, "Yo." Yep. She's overdressed, but it's a pay day.
"Respectful," their pilot-of-the-day echoes hollowly and raises a brow to Corr on her way out with a headjerk toward the escaping blur that is Yoska Lash. "Do you /know/ some of these people you've hired?" Guilty feels about trespassing aside, Netep cannot deny the exquisite appeal that Ithor's eye-candy everything holds. Least in terms of visual aesthetics. And the aromatic wafts of humid air laced with nectars of countless flowers and fruits. It's a bit reminiscent of Omwat's forests and as such puts a tiny pang of homesickness in the heart. And then a resurgance of grumbly feels when Siha's boot sends that blooms into an impressive arc.
She's bringing up the rear by moving at the pace of an Ithorian pupa. Every step taken is with purpose and careful consideration, like she's fifteen and trying to sneak down the ladder from the sleephouse without waking Da.
Sorrysorrysorry...what? Muri falters mid-step over a gnarled Bafforr root. A wary side-eye turns to consider a phantom noise she /swears/ she just heard but is probably just superstition playing mind games with her spacer lore-addled head. Probably. Lots of plants commune through their roots. Doesn't make them sentient. Yeah? Yeah....she turns a curious look upward to the network of branches lacing overhead and finishes out that step. The Bafforr tree, meanwhile, says 'no'.
An inexplicable roll of the ankle later and Muri's flat on her face, nose-deep in pink fluff. Moss. Fuzzy, pink moss. It does well to muffle the explicatives to follow as the woman struggles to spit and rake it all out of her mouth. So, so bitter.
"Yeah, respect-" Corr is in the middle of saying before Yoska and Maireni all but knock him over in the War of the Rings, and Siha comes swooping in like Smoky the Bear's worst nightmare. "...I don't know all of 'em real well," he admits, adjusting the belt around his waist and reaching for his Adventure Canteen, which is still new and still not as good as the one he lost on Mustafar </3. "But they seem like nice kids, right?" Said of the Lash siblings, who may or may not be attempting to murder each other over gumball machine jewelry.
Squaring his shoulders, their fearless leader continues further into the jungle, while the glowing blue trees scattered around them in stands of seven or eight begin to lower their light, and turning a deeper, darker shade of blue. "Totally uncharted territory," he breathes out excitedly to no one in particular, picking his way over the rocks, roots, and moss, a satisfied smile on his face. This is what it's all about, folks. Look how happy he is.
"Those /particular/ rings? I don't know Sissy, it was like ten years ago," Yoska replies to his sister, trying to fend off any attempts to part him with today's jewelry. It was chosen specially to go with his armor, okay! Yoyo and Maireni have similar looking armor, though they've no doubt customized each set in appalling ways unique to each individual. Yoska does perk up when he spots Siha, seeming genuinely pleased to see her. "Heeeey!" he greets. "That chick shot me!" he catches her up on the news since last they met. "Like... a lot... she really shot me a lot... but I'm okay now! And I got some Sin Mint marcan herb that you are gonna looooove, ya feel me. Hit me up later. Oh man, this place would be great for a grow op." So respectful. You have nothing to worry about Muri.
Maireni doesn't outright start a brawl here on this respected land, yet, but she is sourly eyeing the rings on Yoska's hands with pretty clearly communicated intent to steal them. At some point. Keep on your toes, Yoyo. "You got special herb?" Her eyes glint more, she might steal that too. Nothing, not even herb, is sacred to these monsters.
"Again?" Siha asks, her face completely hidden under her helmet, but rest assured, she's PLEASED to see Yoska. Her most favoritest Ryn evar. And no one can even claim he's the only one she knows now, either! "Again? Well snap, I guess she really, really wants a drink with me." Oh, she sounds excited. Happy even. This mission won't have use of her weapons, but a drink will! YASS. "Oh, ohhhhh ...OH. I've tried the Sin Mint marcan herb, oh. The aftertaste?" Gloved hands come up to her helmet and pinch where her lips would be, a smooch sound made as she follows Corr dutifully. But seriously, she's just here in case things go sideways, or if vines get out of hand and try to strangle them all. She ..doesn't note how happy Corr is, she's too busy being excited for herb and possible mayhem with a Yoska Shooter, "Oh so good, that light from the trees? Constantly glowing? You'll get plants so tall ..and in uncharted territory?" Yeah she's listening, "You can charge like 5 times the price for sacred breeding grounds."
Well, far as punishment for trespassing goes, maybe a little moss to the mouth isn't so bad. That's what Muri's mulling over to quell the kneejerk inner whinings of 'its not fair' and 'why me?' while she endeavors to cleanse the moss of unknown properties off her mucous membranes (after pocketing a sample). She's tempting the fates by using some of that ethereal bark to brace herself during the flush process, head tipped back, jaw agape and tongue lolling. About six seconds into the cleansing splashes spilling from her canteen, the explorer feels brave enough to open her eyes and blink out the sting. What's first hazy silhouettes blurred by dizzying canopy soon becomes clearer. Glittering eyes. Lots and lots of glittering eyes form a nightmarish backdrop for the twitchy fangs that turn and track the movement of her comrades. The iridescent pelt shimmers between scant rays of sunlight as it moves.
"Hey," Netep raspsqueaks, feet frozen smartly in place. "Forget your 'herb' and take a moment to remember where you are, yeah?" She lowers her canteen and caps it slooowly. "Molsume. UP...'bout 7 o'clock. Think it fancies the taste of visitors."
"Dr. Girlfriend, PLEASE, I know /exactly/ where I am," Yoska replies, "...I am in a deserted, isolated jungle that is /perfect/ for growing a crop of herb away from the creepin' and peepin' eyes of the Hutt Cartel. Someone's probably already doing that, ya feel me? There's no way a forest like this stays untouched. There's no wa-aaaht? What? Mol-what?" She's trying to warn them of something and he draws a pistol, grabbing his sister by the wrist to try to herd her behind him. Yoyo gonna save u. By making sudden movements. "Ai yah, Siha, kill it!" That's how he's going to save her. Outsourcing.
The sudden movement from Yoska triggers the beast and it LEAPS INTO ACTION, eight legs making this thing like, twice as attacky as your stock big cat, which, I'm thinking it must resemble, plus poison fangs! The feline lunges down at Yoska, passing over his head by a hairsbreadth, before turning on everyone else, its supple, shimmery body pouncing this way and that.
"I can /think/ and I don't glow, Waldin." Siha retorts with a soft snort, but it's Muri's comments that have her blinking and pausing. And as quietly as she can, which is not at all as armor plates shift as she draws out her pistol, "And next time, you want some shavit hole to remain /pristine/, don't bloody well go explorin' in it. You ever hear of the leave no trace seven principals?! You guys as a group already break tenet four- GAH WHAT IS THAT THING?!" SHWING. She bit. She poisun. SHE BLEED. She shoot. SHE SHOOT. "I'M EATING THIS THING WHEN IT'S DEAD!" That's how she dominate. She eat u.
THIS is why no one comes to this jungle. She's sure of it. Netep makes an honest effort of becoming one with the bafforr tree while reaching for her piddly sidearm as a just-in-case when TOO LATE! The Molsume's coming down and she stumbles back, ripping a belt loop on uber-mineralized bark and effectively hanging herself up there for a whole fraction of a second while the canteen 'thunks' down and rolls into a rotting plop of fungi. Mr Molsume gives her a helping hand(s), pouncing her right off that tree after ricocheting off Siha. Muri buckles under the added weight and goes down screaming and kicking and squirming like the entertaining little prey toy she is. Her healed-but-sore latissimus dorsi is totally forgotten during the struggle as new rips and tears give her something else to think about. Her left bootheel whiffs past the creature's head which lands her calf muscle more or less in its mouth. BITE. Muri tries to curl into a tighter ball, arms and hands warding off a couple slashes from finding her vitals when it finally rolls her over. Fortunately, Siha's shot finds its mark and the angry forest resident leaps off her to take out its aggro on someone else.
Snug in his fancy suit of plastoid and flexsteel, Corr is like, really well-protected against the dangers of the jungle, at least until the molsume comes down like a bolt of iridescent lightning and peels back a quartet of slivers along his leg like opening a can of sardines. A quick gasp of pain later and the ex-soldier has his pistol in his hand, the smallish wood-gripped cannon with a lot of kick, and quickly levels it at the beast, but when he pulls the trigger, nothing happens. A wordless curse that can best be transcribed as "Gah!" rips out of him while he tugs a power cartridge from his belt and slams it home into the receiver on the pistol. "SHOOT IT! SHOOT THE SACRED BEAST!"
The sacred beast is just goin' nuts, a big cat surrounded by prey that's turned aggressive, a smoking hole on the shoulder of one limb slowing it down somewhat, but guess what? It's got seven more. Letting out a howl, it lunges and twists, the extra paws enabling it to get around and attack with surprising speed.
To top things off, Fearless Leader is starting to feel a little woozy, a sway in his step as he struggles to draw a bead on the quick-moving predator.
Yoska Lash probably looks like things this Molsume eats every day, weird little rat-bird person that he is. "AAAHHH," he says, nobly, as the thing charges, and then he duck-scamper-hop-runs, dragging his sister with him, to evade the creature's first attack. Where are Ryn even from? Is it somewhere arboreal like this? They're fast and erratic and scampery like little forest creatures that evolved under conditions largely involving getting eaten by spider-things, and the Molsume fails to bite them. This time. For now. That luck may run out; as established they don't have lucky rings on. SHOOT THE SACRED BEAST, yells Corr, and Yoyo yells back "OKAY, OKAY, I GOT THIS YAH," and raises his wee pistol to... click. click. Power pack is drained. Yoska stares at his gun in wide, golden-eyed horror, then switches out the pack and explains his lack of shooting by yelling back, "What it it's an endangered species though, ya feel me?!"
Siha Archer is STRONK. The poison doesn't goad her, but she does get clawed by one of those claws, stupid beast, "THIS IS WHY WE EAT MEAT." Siha yells to the group, shooting at the beast again. PEW PEW. She's just a girl. In a sacred forest. Wanting to burn it all down to the ground because of beasts like this.
Maireni has a blaster!! But it's not loaded, but she still has it in her hand as Yoska drags her around, but squeezing the trigger does nothing. Guys she's useless here. Then she's made even more useless when she's attacked by the still not dead sacred beast, prompting an 'AAAAAAHHHHH!!' out of her as she stumbles somewhere behind her brother. Her armor isn't on right, and even if it were, it's lightweight and not designed to protect her against this sort of thing. (though it might've done something if I'd put it on, god I'm such a noob.) "YOYOOO KILL IT!"
What was that fine print about the Molsume? Venemous fangs? Swell.
Netep's eyes are still squeezed shut with the hope that if she doesn't SEE the damage done then it really isn't as bad as it feels. Maybe it was a dry bite. Animals do that sometimes! She can hope. Corr's shouting jerks her from her shocky train of thought and both eyes pop open to the tune of a hoarsely cried lament when she sees what's become of that leg. The once brilliant underbrush is now monochromatic red and the same scarlet rivulets trickle from her arms and head. A shaken look around at the rest of the chaos confirms that they are in a heap of shit. It's a fast critter and try as she might, her slippery grip, hesitancy to shoot (IN SPITE OF IT ALL) bork the shot when she finally does take it. Sorry, feeling tree. *Scoot*Scoot*Scrabble* Netep tries - and fails - to get both feet under her in attempts to relocate to a fern or log or anything that might put a buffer between herself and IT.
Poison! Poison is bad, there's no resisting poison. Unless, of course, you've built up a resistance to that poison. Corr has not done that, so... he's not resisting the poison. In fact, his body practically seems to be inviting it in. Hello, sir, please, stop in and stay a while. May I take your hat, sir? This shows up to the outside world as the ex-soldier fumbles with his gun, sending a pair of shots wide, one going... absolutely crazily wide, off into the jungle and likely ending some sentient tree's warm, wise reverie about listening with your heart and choosing the right path. "Kill it," he mutters to the others, stumbling sideways into a tree and nearly toppling over as his groggy feet catch on a root.
The creature is hit again by Siha, but not killed, catching Maireni for a nasty blow and still just... generally making this wonderful little day-trip into a nightmare. Damn you, sacred forest.
"MARI!" Yoska yelps as his sister gets chomped upon and shook around for a moment like a squeaky toy. "Mari NO! Your armor's on wrong! Stupid!" The words are the usual disrespect, but he sounds scared, brushing up a little closer than he'd like against the terrifying thought of a world where he's alone with Fennix. It's bad. It's a bad thought. He tries to shoot the Sacred Beast to get its attention off his sister, but only the latter endeavor is successful as it bites him instead, sinking its fangs into one of his narrow shoulders. KICKFLAILFITE he's trying to get free of it, shocked into shutting up for a moment, and dimly thinking, as though watching someone else's life on the holo and not his own, how that pelt would make such. a. dope. jacket.
Maireni is hurting, because that's what happens when sacred beasts bite you. "Yoyooo," she whines out pitifully in response to the scolding about her armor. He's not wrong though, it's on wrong, but armor isn't something she deals with in her everyday life. The Yoska is being attacked, bitten, and she's reaching out to try and pull him back like that might somehow save him from the wound he's already got, or the sacred jungle poison already doing its work. "We need better armor, Yoyo." She just can't imagine how it could be better, they decorated it so well. "Someone kill it!" she agrees with Corr's suggestion, but that someone isn't her, she's not ready to punch the sacred beast yet.
Ow. OW. The leg won't cooperate, but whether it's neurotoxin or simple shredding of tendons responsible, Muri isn't sure. She doesn't want to think about it. She isn't a fighter, guys. Not in the bodily sense of the word. Scurrying on three limbs toward Corr, she hisses "Waldin!" His weeble-wobbles look dangerously close to falling down. "Be still! Gotta slow your heart rate, man..." Like it's not too late for that. Her inner optimist tells her inner realist to stfu. The Molsume is busy eating Lashes, so that's bought her enough time over here to ask a favor of their woozy leader. "Think I'm gonna need to borrow your Doctor Girlfriend, maybe...make it a healing threesome?" Teared up eyes squint a tiny hint of mirth through the bloody smear she keeps wiping away in vain.
And then it's back to business. Muri bites her lip, flops onto her hip, and lines another terrible shot up on that shiny, iridescent backside. Blast and a miss. Par for the course. "I'm not right-handed," she lamely excuses because that's the hand the Czerka's parked in, since her left arm doesn't look like it's faired much better than her leg.
SHE SHOOT. SHE MISS. NO. But, the poison still ain't kicking her ass though things are getting dicy. Siha will flail her gun trying to shoot at the beast AGAIN, but no, it missed, and Siha is bleeding, again, from a new hole, though much tinier than before, "You know, I swear to all that is holy and good, I hate you all. Except Yoska." An exception is made for the Ryn, with whom she has a soft spot for. Blame it on the mothering instincts that have long been stabbed from her womb, a whisper of something that could have been, wasted on the Ryn. She grunts, "You know, I have half a mind to wrestle this assclown DOWN AND SQUISH IT TO DEATH."
As the toxin continues to rush through Corr's body, messing with the sodium channels in his body and all that good stuff, causing nerve damage that, if left untreated, will leave him and the others permanently paralyzed. "This was prob'ly worth it," he grits out as he props himself there against the tree, squinting hard to try to keep the thing in focus and only just managing to duck out of the way as a clawed mitt slams into the wood just above his head. Trying to take Muri's advice, he deliberately slows down, not bothering to shoot at the thing for a moment, just focusing himself for a last go here before his apparently inevitable demise.
The molsume would totally make an incredible coat, no one has anything as snazzy as this iridescent pelt. Failing that, Yoska can take some fake fur and dip it in an oil slick, and achieve the same effect. Whichever Lash sibling walks away without the pelt is likely to do just that in an effort to compete. At any rate, the thing is still going, but seems to have slowed down, perhaps from being shot a few times. Teeth snap shut in Siha's face, one fang scraping uselessly down the front of her helmet.
Poison. POISON! Yoska is unsteady on his feet, still protectively hovering near Maireni despite the holes in his own self, and his usually expressive tail is flopped sad and draggy on the ground. "Thithy," he tries to address Sissy/Maireni, but his tongue doesn't seem to be working, and he switches to a different language, whistling at her in a series of pleasant, musical twittery warbling that sounds just like the birds of the jungle. Is he comforting her? Continuing to tell her she's stupid? Laying down dibs on the rainbow pelt? You don't know! You don't know Ryn! You don't KNOW US! His fingers are getting numb and none of his coordination seems to be working right, but he raises his dinky little pistol and tries again, PEW PEW PEW. Through luck rather than talent, a bolt hits the creature, and it slowly groans, beginning to lower toward the ground, perhaps there are finally too many holes punched in it to continue this attack. The Merr-Sonn "Quick" pistol tumbles out of Yoyo's numb, many-ringed fingers, and in trying to catch it and get it back, he falls over. Plop.
Poison. Maireni had been able to fight it up to this point, but it's starting to work it's jungle poison magic on her, and it makes her tail droop. Lower, lower, tail-bracelets are clinking on the ground. Clink, rattle. "Yoyo," whines back, and then tooodle-toots back at him in that musical language, it sounds forlorn though. Tootle-:(-toot. Like the others, she lifts her blaster which was loaded, the safety was just on because she doesn't know what she's doing, and fires. And misses. It was probably better with the safety on. "Hey," she says to the creature instead. "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey," she trills a seductive sound through those nose holes. "That's thome thexy fur you got there," trill trill, smile. It's a real big, toothy smile that in nature is threatening. In the city it's probably pretty threatening too, because it means that Mai probably has her hand in your pocket while it's happening, but this thing doesn't have pockets. "Maybe you jutht skitter off an' leave uth be yeah? Yeah?" Probably not, Mai, but solid try. I mean, not really, but still better than her shooting, somehow.
Siha Archer has tried shooting. She's tried grappling, and she has failed. And she can't feel her feetz. And the feeling is crawling up her ankles and into her shins, which means she wobbly pops around as she tries to aim. Again. Shooting. Not good. The grappling hug is more like a flail through the air before she drops onto her knees, gahing softly, "Someone bite it ..."
Kriff, she's been spotted! Netep flattens down a little too late but it doesn't matter. The Molsume's oozing wounds reek of spite as it lands poorly on its feet and goes stumbling harmlessly over the tops of hers tp swipe at Corr's head and miss. Thankfully. Then it's off again! Muri's paling face is taking on a proverbially green tinge, maybe motion sick from trying to keep track of all its erratic movements. "I'm not sure," she confesses, just continuing to lie there in the moss and the shrooms. The blaster drops weakly from her fingers in favor of tugging the belt loose from around her waist. On a one, two, THREE count she hefts her left leg up and props it on the tree. A whimper and single-syllable sob escape, because ow.
"The near-death experience in that library basement? That was worth it. I've translated some of one o'the manuscripts. Y'know. That I stole." A shameless smile cracks through the pain and terror on her face and she loops that belt around her thigh - gadgets and pouches and all - to try and cinch it TIGHT. Cept there's gadgets and pouches in the way. Poop. "Pretty racy'n'rivetting stuff, I tell ya. Think it's an almanac? If we aren't dead and digested by this evening, I'll show it to you." She fumbles with the terrible tourniquet some more, then gives up. It 'thwops' down to uselessly girdle her groin. And then...there's a distinct shift in the chaos. A reduced zig and zagging from the Molsume. Netep holds her breath. Is...it...dead? A melancholy tootling from the Ryn suggests THEY are still breathing. And Siha? She's definitely still kickin. And shooting. And gahing. But no more sounds of maiming. "IS IT DEEEAD?" She asks of the whole farking forest.
"It'h dead," Corr decides, tucking his pistol back in his belt and straightening up, surveying the wreckage of his Guild's most valuable asset: its employees. That's right. "And s'we are if we don't get to outta here and get some medinal heatment." The confusion that clouds his face suggests he knows what he's saying doesn't make a lot of sense here, but HIS SODIUM CHANNELS. Struggling to his feet, he lifts the beast onto his shoulder, nudging Yoska with a foot. "Come go, it's time to on," before leading the way back to the ship, bumping off trees like a pinball.
Yoska Lash is lying on the ground, peacefully amidst the mossy stumps and jungle detritus, when Corr pokes him with a boot. NO CORR JUST LET HIM LIE, let him become one with the sacred forest, that Ryn really took a lichen to that patch of ground. He makes a whiny warble which is probably Ryn for 'just let me diiiii iii iie' and then with effort, sits back up, probably because he dimly realized Corr totally would. Decaying leaf matter is stuck to the side of his head as he looks around, then slowly hauls himself to his feet. Where's his sister. Oh, there she is. Seducing the forest. "You killed it Mari," he announces. "Your atthempt to theduce it made it go like 'I would rather die' and then it died. You thaved us all. With how groth you are." Then he turns to start gimping back to the ship, holstering his weapon... aw, but she's in bad shape on the ground. Should he leave her?
Yoska considers. You know what? She owes him 5 credits from when he bought her space froyo 4 years ago on Corellia. Bye hoe.
Yoska considers further. Yeah but... she did let him borrow her thigh-high boots for an eighth and an incorrect comm number that he said was the Wayside doctor's. That was nice.
Yoska stops. And if there's no Mari, there's just Yoyo and Fixy, which generally involves getting punched in the nuts and kicked down the stairs.
Okay. He turns back, drags Maireni up, and hefts her into a piggy back carry, to trudge a return to the Racnoss. "Don't give me any fleath," Yo warns, as some tiny creature jumps from his messy crop of haphazard white hair into the floof beneath her hat.
"S'for the best, I guess," Netep sighs, staring up at the dulled glow of branches waaaaay up high. Her conscience resumes the nagging that the fight for survival put on hold. Like, if they hadn't BEEN here, that Molsume might've gone home to its den or whatever tonight. Sniff. Crap, she's really sad about this. Maybe it's just the blood loss messing with her head. Muri pulls her stuff together, belt loop clutched in one hand, gun in the other, and hop-stumbles along in a fashion that makes zombies look graceful. The left leg drags along limply from the knee.
You win, Mother Jungle.
