Fantasy The Ninth Winter

[Togy]

Malcom Soot​

Tearing his eyes away from the woman sat next to him, Malcom raised an eyebrow at the sight of the Mortalis leaning through the porthole. Absentmindedly, he took another bite out of his fish patty.

"Oh" Malcom said through a mouthful, "Well...today is just lovely, isn't it?".

Staring into the beady eyes of the Mortalis from across the room, Malcom was more surprised by his lack of a reaction than anything else. Sure, staring into the creature's cold, dark, lifeless eyes was a nightmare in and of itself, and the screech it gave sent a shiver down his spine. Despite that, he didn't feel panic, he didn't feel fear. If anyone could actually read his facial expression underneath his balaclava and goggles, they'd see that he maintained the same casual look of complete disinterest as always. Part of him wondered why. Had he hit the age where you feel like you've seen everything, or had he simply lost his fear of death. Well, he didn't know, and when he thought about it more, now was probably a poor time to think on it.

Taking stock of the situation as quickly as he could, Malcom stood up on his seat. He left his gear in his cabin, so he didn't have his military shovel or ice pick on hand. All he had on him was his hunting knife, so fighting the creature would be a poor idea. Looking around, Malcom saw a number of people much more qualified than him to fight the Mortalis. He spotted a woman near the porthole the Mortalis was crawling through stand up and draw a pistol, going in for the kill. With a mighty gunshot that reverberated everywhere in the steel capsule that was the mess hall, what looked to be half of the Mortalis' skull shattered and flew towards the ceiling.

Malcom watched, just a little shocked, as the monstrosity proceeded to backhand the soldier across the room.

Sometimes Malcom had thought that the Mortalis' abilities had been, at the very least, exaggerated. He, personally, had only ever hid from the creatures before and let the soldiers do their jobs. It seemed that every tall tale he heard about them had been spot on.

Eyes trailing away from the Mortalis and towards the motionless soldier strewn across the floor, Malcom realized that someone had to help them out of the danger zone. It may as well be him, he thought. It's not like he was any good in a fight anyway.

"Good luck fighting that lads" Malcom said offhandedly to the soldiers around him as he began running for the seemingly unconscious woman. Ducking in between the rows of tables, Malcom dodged between the men and women leaping into action as he made his way to Hunter. Coming to an abrupt stop next to the Corporal, Malcom knelt in front of them. Quickly looking over their clothes for any indication of rank to adress them as, Malcom "Corporal? Groan if you have broken ribs, do nothing if you're dead".

Coin

 

[Anne Boolean]

Tulio was quiet as usual as he enjoyed the meal being served. He took a sip of the watered down tea in his cup and ate some of the fish porridge that had been slapped down on his plate. He had never hated fish, and in fact it was considered more of a delicacy in the area he had lived while back on the mainland, but after all the times he had had to eat it when the world froze over he could honestly say he was tired of it. Even when he first moved to Cask with Antoni, fish was new and exciting. On top of that, being on an island meant it was cheap and caught fresh every morning. The seafood they had eaten back then was truly delicious, and had even come to take the place of the meat and poultry they were so accustomed to back on the mainland. Looking on the bright side of a terrible situation, when the icy apocalypse had frozen the seas, at least the fish were preserved in their winter tombs. Even if it was fresh, the idea of fish everyday for every meal became rather stale as their reserves of other protein, and even grains and vegetables ran out.

Aside from the tired food, it was quite a unique day. As the ship jerked and shook every so often while cutting through the frozen waters, the young man realized just how long it had been since he had returned to the mainland. Of course, the thought of his family came up, and although they were often in his mind when it drifted to the state of the mainland, he had a feeling running into them was not something he needed to be worried about when, or if, they made it.

He looked over at the woman who sat across from him as he took another bite of his meal. Having a meal with someone aside from his coworkers was something he hadn't done in who knows how long. Even at work he would take his lunches alone most of the time, ever since his beloved's passing. A part of him wondered if he should think of some topic to bring up to the woman, as he didn't want her to feel awkward. Another part of him just didn't care, about talking, about how she felt, or anything for that matter.

He wouldn't need to think of a topic though it seemed, although in the grander scheme that seemed to be more of a curse than a blessing. His head jolted to the porthole when he heard the glass shattering, and he sat speechless as the arm of the screeching monster swiped around inside the mess. A woman dressed in military uniform attempted to deal with the situation, but it seemed a bullet to the head still wasn't even to subdue the beast. After she was swatted away a man made his way over to her side to check on her, leaving the rest of the diners to deal with the intruder.

As the mechanic stood up he first considered bashing the now inside-out head with a spanner or piercing it with a screwdriver, but as he reached around his waist he realized he had left his work belt in his room after his final in the engine room. His brown eyes fell onto the table, and zeroed in on the metal utensils on either side of his plate. The spoon would be useless but perhaps the knife and fork would be sharp enough to... do something? They were, of course, to small to kill or do any major damage, but perhaps they could be used as a way to distract the beast, and allow someone with a more formidable weapon to take it down? Judging by how unfazed it was from getting its head blown in though that seemed rather unlikely. Still, with cutlery in hand the man cautiously approached, eyes drifting between the others in the room, hoping that one of them had some semblance of a plan.

-ferret-

 

[-ferret-]

Flora Jane Turner​

Flora almost gave herself whiplash with the intensity in which she turned her head to the porthole.

"Oh dear," she said as she saw a mottled gray arm reach through, the screeching of the beast tearing through her ears.

"Oh dear," she said as a woman came and grabbed the arm, a pistol in her grip. Flora immediately grabbed her cutlery knife, a pitiful weapon but all she had. She hefted her skirts and stepped over the bench she was sitting on. She wasn't a fighter, not even in the slightest. So she backed up into a corner and held her knife by her side, ready to stab anything that got to close.

"Oh dear," she groaned as the shot rang through the metal walls and to her ears. It was on par with the creature's shrieking and she grimaced as the devil's head splattered everywhere. She finally got moving though when the woman was knocked down to the ground. This she could do. This is what she was trained for.

"Oh dear. Woman down," Flora hefted her skirts again and made her way through the running masses to the woman who had been backhanded across the chest. Kneeling down next to the woman, she inspected where the claws made contact.

"Is she awake? If she's unconcious she could have a brain injury. Ma'am are you awake?" Flora asked, keeping calm and asking the woman if she was alright. She first checked for a pulse and when she found one, she moved on. She peeled back her eyelids, looking for movement or ocular response, shadowing one eye before the other. Flora than looked to the woman's torso to check for bleeding.

"Miss? Can you hear me?"
Coin Togy

 

[Chordling]

Callum Moore​

Callum flinched when the glass of the porthole shattered. Some moments passed and the next thing he knew, a woman's body had been thrown across the mess hall by a grotesque mortalis. Callum's eyes darted not knowing where to look. His body was rigid and he was pretty sure that he almost forgot to breathe. Only then did he realize the cold atmosphere rush over his skin. Hope drained from Callum's eyes. His mind raced only with thoughts of death as he watched the creature tear through the metalwork of the vessel as if it were sweet, warm butter. Callum's heartbeat filled with adrenaline. They only left the shore moments ago, but even then, the unforgiving water would freeze their flesh, or the sheet metal of the Ophelia would take them down before anyone who considered to swim would reach safe grounds. Death would be inevitable. Then it was clear to him. They could not let this monster destroy the Ophelia.

Callum reached his entire arm span body over the table he sat at and scooped up any of the available dining ware as the strong breeze continued to press against him. Some of it was his own. Most of it belonged to strangers. Callum grabbed the first item of his small pile and flung the object in the general direction of the mortalis. It did not matter if it hit. Callum's only hope was that it would tear the beat's intentions away from eating the ship. A second projectile was thrown.

 

[Goonfire]

Marina Pope

In-between checking system functionality and gauging engineers’ competence, Marina made rounds to ensure the engine rooms were secure. Sighing outside the room, she suddenly heard the sharp crack of pistol fire, muffled by the walls and floors. She scrambled to find the source, scouring the ship rapidly until she heard the commotion in the mess hall.

Inside, the bitter cold poured into the room. An all-too-familiar Royal Marine lay unconscious across from a Mortalis drone shredding the hull around a destroyed porthole. “Tulio, get down!” Marina seized the opportunity while its claws were occupied; she drew her crude machete and dagger, using the latter to deliver an angled stab to exploit the weak point noted by so many before her. She then withdrew to avoid the backlash she could almost sense coming.

Anne Boolean Coin