Ellen Park, the Lone Wanderer

And in such lovely patterns, too. Jackson Pollock would be pleased. Think of it this way, Voodoo, once the wretched thing stops twitching you'll have a fine... um... well, maybe you can wrench the legs off and use what's left of the body as a planter. For very tall plants.

The smallest of scorpions is not really in a much better position. These are not the brightest of arachnids to begin with, and the little raptor is biting at its eyes and brain area. If it had a thought process, that process would be, PAIN ON TOP - LOW HANGING OBJECT - HIGH SPEED SKITTER - SCRAPE OFF PAIN. But... it doesn't, really, which is why the best it can do is essentially run into the nearest available rock front end first.

That's not gonna end well.

Which, of course, leaves the Toyota Imperator over here, which is now trying to decide between stinging Moon Shadow and getting its tail pulped by mutant hammers...

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..oh FUCK YOU PAPA SCORPION!

EJECT ITEM FROM JACKET MODUS, DRAGON'S TOOTH.

The thing about fetch modi is this, when something gets ejected, it's generally at great force. And with the jacket modus, everything either gets ejected from the sleeves or the neck.

And Moon Shadow's had a lot of practicce with aiming by pointing his arm at something.

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And once Voodoo turns his attention to the alpha male and opens fire?

Between the three of them, there is no way he's leaving alive.

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Nope. None whatsoever. Frankly, for all that it's drawn a lot of Fawkes' blood already, there's not going to be much more than a lot of pale pinkish-greyish scorpion jelly left lying around.

(Of the big one, that is. The little one rammed into a rock at high speed and Winston is currently nowhere to be seen.)

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...

"Winston?"

The littlest scorpion backs away from the rock jerkily and starts jerking around, twitching spasmodically before shuddering to the ground. Then the scrabbling starts at it's back before something punches through the carapace hissing and covered in entrails.

"ksss...sss? KOH! Koh! KooOOH!"

...okay, who here wanted to see the cyber-raptor doing a funky little happy dance over having killed the scorpion?

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...well, Voodoo certainly wasn't expecting it.

But if the little guy killed it, he figures it's got the right to celebrate all it wants.

He scans the area, then lowers his weapon. "Looks like we're clear."

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"I believe you're right," says Fawkes, who's shaking the gore from his hammer. "Is anyone hurt? Do either of you require antivenom?"

If they don't, he'll use the dose he's carrying on himself; there's some very bloody spots on that swanky suit of his.

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"I'm okay."

It's take more than that scorpion to tear through the power ranger armor. He's going to need to get that jacket repaired by Kanaya later though.

"...someone want to grab my dragon tooth out of the big white scorpion's head?"

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Voodoo will, plucking it out of the carapace as he passes by the corpse and holding it out to Tyler.

"I'm good."

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"One moment, then," says Fawkes, and rolls up one of his sleeves to get started on the injection. "I'm fairly resistant to the stuff, but scorpion venom's still an unpleasant experience."

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"Take your time."

Seriously, no sense in wandering about half-cocked with a supermutant on a scorpion venom bender.

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Fawkes nods, grimacing- his skin is remarkably thick, and getting a needle through it is no picnic. He's not one to complain, though, and eventually he sets the emptied set aside. "There," he says. "Let's get moving. We don't want to be out in the open when darkness falls."

He sets off at a steady lope towards the west-northwest. Nothing too fast; he wants the antivenom to work and Moon Shadow not to be too badly jostled up on his shoulders.

Edited Date: 2012-07-25 01:54 am (UTC)

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Moon Shadow isn't complaining about the ride, even if it is really bumpy up there. Really, he's just too tired from fighting and running to really care at this point.

Besides that, he wants to get to Little Lamplight before dark too. He hasn't forgotten the last time he spent the night here.

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It's a desire that Voodoo shares wholeheartedly, believe us. Even with his night vision goggles, there are places he'd much rather be in the dark.

That doesn't mean he'll ever stop scanning their surroundings for threats, but.

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There are a few unpleasant things along the way- a yao guai pair on a ridge to the west, a pack of wild dogs, things like that- but by the time the sun is slipping the rest of the way down the western sky, an ancient billboard Moon Shadow may remember is looming over a huddle of shacks and rusted-out hulks that must've once been schoolbuses.

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"...zbbzzrhuh?"

...yeah, no one noticed him nodding off up there, did they? Well, if no one noticed..no harm, no foul.

"...we're almost there. ...Winston, heel."

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Voodoo noticed, but he didn't particularly care.

He looks around. "This one of those 'know-it-when-you-see-it' things?"

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"It's underground," says Fawkes. "The entrance to the caverns is over there, just past that building. Keep an eye out. There's probably children on guard."

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"'M probably going to have to swear at somebody."

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Voodoo shrugs. "You want to, knock yourself out."

He could probably out-swear Tyler any day of the week (ten years in the Navy will do things to your vocabulary), but he's not going to say that.

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"Oh, great," comes a voice from the roof of one of the shacks. "Mungos again."

Remember Princess, Tyler?

Yeah.

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Actually, he never got to meet Princess, just heard about her from Bumble.

Now...Biwwy, Biwwy he remembers.

"Oh put some old lace underwear in it, they're with me."

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