Mr. Grossmann (
dont_turn_around) wrote2012-10-16 12:45 pm
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The Forest

The woods are
The mist has not lifted.
The trees are still.
There's not so much as a bird singing or a fox trundling through the undergrowth.
Even the paths seem to lie in waiting.
Deep in the forest is The Tree.
If you think you know where it is...you don't.
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As they move closer, the twisted silhouette of the tree becomes much more apparent.
Worse, so does the glimmer: it's taken on a sheen like oily, brackish water, shivering in violent patterns that make bile rise in Olivia's throat.
Quietly, to Will: "I think we're about another fifty feet out."
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The silhouette reminds him of the great twisted oak in Sherwood, but that's a noble tree who watches over all. This one doesn't care for anyone,
"Will 'ave to watch for when we're under its branches. They'll stretch far."
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She douses the green light around her hand, since she'll need both hands to wield the sword. Unfortunately nothing can be done about her ghostly aura; not unless she goes invisible or shifts back to her human form. Neither of these is a viable option right now.
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One could make the case that it could even be deadly.
Now being one of those times.
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Twenty.
Olivia clicks off her flashlight -- there's enough ambient light from the others that she can still make out the glimmer just fine -- and reaches for the canister strapped to her waist.
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He mouths a prayer to Jack Green and watches the tree and Dani and Enzo.
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You're a failure!
Something on silent feet.
You're the least of us!
Something with knives that cut through the air like a whisper, and embed in flesh like a kiss.
I never want to see you again!
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That turns out to be the only thing that saves her from a throwing star to the gut.
It strikes the neck of the canister instead, spitting out a loud hiss as the contents start to depressurize. Instantly, she moves again: "Get down!" she yells -- if someone already knows they're here, stealth won't accomplish anything anymore -- and starts a mad sprint for the tree.
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It deflects the star from his chest to his arm and then he's at Olivia's back to block what he can.
She needs to get that onto the tree. He can still move his sword and that's what counts at this point.
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"Got it!" She moves right at Enzo's direction, lighting up the blade of her ecto-saber.
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When the blade of the ecto-saber lights something in that tree glints.
I'll never forgive you for what you've done!
Then what appear to be dark branches begin to slowly move.
There's something in the tree. Something dressed in black Something climbing in a way that would make Spider-man envious. Something that growls low and deep, a warning
You bring nothing but shame to our family!
And that something is poised to strike.
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The glimmer writhes like curdling milk, or like tentacles unwinding themselves from the tree branches. She drives down a shudder and tries to focus on where the glimmer isn't shining: a human-shaped silhouette further up.
With one hand, she unhooks the canister.
With the other, she aims for (what she hopes is) the person's kneecap and fires.
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If it falls, then it will meet his sword, "Dump it! I'll cover ye!"
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You never think!
The bullet strikes the tree with a dead thunk as Mike is already on the move.
How can I ever trust you again?
He leaps out at the ones advancing on the tree. Arms wide, made wider by the broad spinning of the nunchucks in his hand.
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Olivia pulls up short fast enough to stumble a step, darting to the side in an effort to keep clear. For an instant, she glimpses the man's face -- oh, hell -- and has a moment, as she bites back a curse, to be glad her instincts to try a non-lethal shot first were on the money.
"Mike!" she shouts, already fairly certain it won't do anything.
Which is why she's already lined up a second shot and pulled the trigger -- this time, aiming for his shoulder.
(In her other hand, the canister continues to hiss.)
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Quickly he gets his sword out of the way of the spinning wood and tries to slice Mike's tendon. They're running out of time.
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There is no wind.
Or it might have been an illusion; depth is hard to perceive when the mist is smothering drowning stealing hiding enshrouding everything.
The loud CREAK is the only warning the would-be heroes have before two of the tree's branches crash down in thunderous fury on each side of its dark child, deflecting the brightness of beams and blasts from their intended target.
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