Through Apokalips, they follow..

November 02, 2015:

Carol and Caitlin continue to evade the parademons, and they receive un-enlightening news… Hawkgirl dead?! — Emits by Rant


Some weird landscape


NPCs: The critter who shall be henceforth named Noktul! (I just made that up, hee!)


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

A burst of fire roars from the small crater that was left in the world when the ship from the dark sky fell. The two women were watched from the shadows with eyes set aglow, curiousities in the creatures veins as it skitters back into the shadows. It wasn't a far trek from the creatures home, the quick two legged two handed run allowing for leaps and bounds with it's unusual structure, twisting over firepits that seemingly explode when it's near, avoiding the heat as best it knew how.. ducking low once the parademons pave their way through the red sand leaving marks and a tell tale sign of where they were headed. Back from where it came. Towards the women.

The little creature chips and chutters, smacking its hands upon the ground repeatedly, it's small shield and stabber hung upon its hips shifted and slid upon the arm to guard, slammed into the ground as it takes off in another direction at a run that would allow it to make it to the quickest and possible spot before the marching trope of demons. And it was -fast-. There was no time for stealthy manuvers into the frey, the lowlie had to get to the women soon to get them out of there. It knows the horrors it would inflict upon the two; it knows that once the Furies come, it would fall into servitude as well. It knows these things, because it was there. And it does not want to go back.

Caitlin tugs absently at her borrowed jumpsuit. It's an old military-surplus flight suit, but even the extra-large size barely accomodates her size. The sleeves and legs are a bit too short and she had to loosen up a few of the drawstrings here and there to get comfortable in it.

"I really wish I had my phone," Caitlin mutters, hugging her knees to her chest in front of the pitiful heat source nestled beneath an overhang. "I hate not having Google available." She brushes her fingers through her impossibly mussed red hair, which reaches nearly to her shoulders now. "There's… I think I remember /something/ about Nth metal, but it's, like, right on the tip of my tongue. It's really weird, though, weird enough that it's gotta stand out somewhere in front of a scanner. Right?" she says, looking to Carol.

There has been hiding. And there has been fighting. And there has been running. Captain Marvel has made a point of not going anywhere near where she tucked her ship away, so as not to draw attention there. By giving the enemy something else to worry about - willing combatants on foot - she is hoping that will keep them focused on chasing her, rather than hunting for the ship. Powered down as it is, beneath a cammo net, tucked beneath a half-fallen building, it will avoid casual scrutiny and overflight. But these people have tech far in advance of what she usually runs into; enough such that their scanners could very well pick up the anomaly of tech and materials unlike their own.

And that ship is the only way she has any chance of getting Caitlin home. Carol herself might manage to absorb enough energy to power up and warp to get back to Earth. Maybe. It's not impossible. But without that ship, she'd be making the trip alone. And that's unacceptable.

"No comms back to Earth, so Google would be dead, kiddo." Carol comments, wryly, as she points to the next point where she intends they'll hole up. "Nth focuses and amplifies energy. That much, I remember. I think it also does something funky with gravity, but we don't have the tech to track that, even assuming I'm right." The energy, on the other hand, Carol may be able to sense. Maybe.

"Let's go. We have to get across that ruined plaza, hopefully without being spotted. I know you're tired. But after the dust-ups, we have to assume they're working on tracking and hunting us. We have to keep moving, as much as we can." It's not a pep talk, just a statement of intent and reality. Then Captain Marvel reaches for Caitlin's hand to help her up, and shoves off to start their scrabbling sprint.

Here goes nothing.

The four lungs of the alien creature work hard at providing oxygen for it to move as fast as it does, the slides, skips and kips, the roll and tumbles and high leaps upon stand dunes that have him scrambling down upon three hands, not four and into a tucked roll and sprawl. It was close, the little three eyed, bald creature blinking, nimbus like gaze focusing upon the two women and.. with a shake of its little head it arms flail into the air and a siren like squeal draws from it's razor-toothed lip.

"NOT THAT WAY!" It cries out, using the shield to pound down upon the ground and send himself off again, the run almost like a chimp chasing its prey with a sideways gait that brings it's tiny little body into a tilted run. For all intents and purposes, the little alien was.. indeed little. Dark purple skin and long ears that point like needles upon the side of its head. It's fingers were obviously different, three long apendages with razor sharp nails that match nearly the jagged edges of its teeth. Possibly due to a nervous tick, it carried the same mannerisms as humans where it bit its nails in sheer terror, anxiety and fright. Something it couldn't help.

Their sprint was no match for its bumble-tumble approach, a leap and a catch upon an idle rock, something that sends the shield spiralling from its arm and needlepoker straight ahead.. and..

..wait.. where did it go?

.. Oh. There. Head-first in the sand.

Caitlin accepts the hand up, readily, bouncing on her toes with a fresh burst of energy. "Yes ma'am!" she agrees, shouldering her rough little knapsack. She follows Carol with instant obedience, glad to have Carol taking charge and completely willing to let someone more experienced do the planning of their little operation. "I know I wouldn't have signal," she admits. "I just… you know. I bet my Facebook is, like, blowing up."

She moves alongside Carol at a good clip, moving as fast as the two supreheroines can go without tiring- which is considerably faster than most humans can even sprint, and they can do it for quite a duration.

"Woah!" Caitlin literally skids to a halt on her rugged purple boothees, arms pinwheeling for balance. "Car- Cap! What is /that/?" she says, jabbing a finger at the screeching, flailing little imp. "I think it's talking to me!"

Sprinting along, the screeching cry and the thrown weapons are enough to bring Carol skidding towards a messy halt as she whips her head around, looking at where these things came from. "What the —- " she comments, looking to Caitlin and nodding in agreement to her point. Yep. Definitely talking to them.

"We can't let it keep making all that noise. It'll draw the attention of patrols. We have to go shut it up." One way or the other. Carol is hoping if they get back to it, it will indeed shut and and let them get all three of them under some cover. But she's already trying to come to terms with the possibility they may have to kill the thing. It turns her stomach, but survival requires such things at times.

"Let's go, Cait." Carol comments, and sprints back, picking up speed as she barrels towards the creature, eyes already sweeping the area for nearby cover offerings. So damned messy. But isn't that always the way it goes?

Yup! The thing was talking to them, right before it skiffed and planted right into a tiny sand dune that had it's tiny little body scrambling and kicking against the dust until it's head pops free. The little three-eyed creature huffs, blowing sand through its slitted nostrils, it's tongue hung out and lashed against the air as it coughs with a beat to its chest. It wasn't as loud as it could have been, but it was obviously loud enough to gain the ladies attention who.. he looked up..

..were heading right for him!

"BLEEEEEEEEEEEEP!" It shrieks out, his needlepointed shoved into the air, one thin and tiny arm drawing over his face as he covers his three eyes and begins to flail the needlepointer as if he were on his last leg.

He emits a series of clicks and clacks, before he manages to find the proper language to speak to them. "ME WANT TO HELP! NO KILL!"

"Hey! Hey! Calm down!" Caitlin hisses, keeping her voice low when they close the gap near the odd little creature. "I'm not gonna hurt you, but you gotta stop screaming!" She moves in a low crouch, then drops into a squat, balancing her weight forward on splayed fingertips against the ground. "Look, calm down, okay! Is there somewhere safe we can talk?" she asks the imp. "We're kinda stuck out in the open, here."

Captain Marvel skids to a stop on the sands, just long enough to sweep her arms under the flailing imp-like creature, scooping him up. "Move it, Big Red. We need cover and fast. I've already picked up a two-ship patrol inbound. We have maybe two minutes before they have a visual."

Carol doesn't try to address the squealing, flailing creature. If she gets stabbed, she'll scream and punch the little bastard. But otherwise, she's just scooping him up and running towards the nearest visual cover she can find, legs pumping as fast as her Kree-enhanced musculature will allow.

The three eyed creature looked calm enough, his eyes.. well, the fact that he was near lidless does not blink but he nods in recognition of the few words that he's picked up from the Furies and Desaad. "Yes. Yes!" He chitters out, his voice lowering until he's snagged up beneath his arms and a hand that clamps upon its mouth.

To reduce the squealing and bitching, of course.

The woman who grabs the creature was soon gestured at, if she was going to help him help them, she was going to take orders from the Lowlie! "There!" It points with its needle pointer. The mound that looks.. well, too exposed.

But none of them know Apokalips like this critter does.

Caitlin follows along in Carol's wake, trying to be helpful by looking in every direction at once. "C'mon, little guy— be more specific," she hisses again, crouched more out of habit than necessity as she and Carol thunder down on the spot in question. "It's just a big mound of scrap and dirt! Is there like a secret hidey-hole under it, or something?" Caitlin glances worridly over her shoulder, as if expecting Parademons to sweep down on her from nowhere with no warning.

Captain Marvel is pretty sure that all the warning Caitlin was going to get about those swooping parademons she already got; now it's all over but the screaming, bleeding and dying. Still, since she can't find any better cover nearby, Carol decides to trust the little lowlie; she's betting they're going to get caught anyway, so she'll just settle for pleasantly surprised if somehow this works out. But she follows the pointing stabinator. WHat else can she do?

The little lowlie never leads anyone astray, especially when it comes to saving his own hide as well. Caitlin was right, the big mound of scrap and dirt would prove to be their cover! Upon close inspection, it looks like a remenant(sp?) of a ship; the wing flank broken off and embedded into the sand, long becoming one with the Apokalips as this planets moss and bacteria begin to grow and nearly rot it. He manages to squirm himself from Carol's grasp, prouncing and prancing atop of the wing until he diseappears beneath it, only his little fingers and needle-stabber seen as he begins to kick around the sand to burrow a quick hole so that they all could hide in.

Why, he even takes account of Caitlin's rather robust size!

"Mon!" The little thing shoots out, ushering the women into his little makeshift cave, wriggling and worming to expand the fit to make it all true.

The marching of the troops could be heard above, two clicks east of their location. The grunt and stomps and the constant clanging and arming of the weapons, the snap and clap of gloves that bring both rows of troops to a halt.

That sound grows increasingly louder, tow scouts from each platoon quickly scouring the radius of their position, all the while, below?

The little monster presses a hand towards his lips so that no one could barely hear him breathe.

"I'll go last," Caitlin nods at Carol. "And collapse the hole behind us." She waits for Carol to dart in and then wiggles her broad shoulders through the tiny gap, squirming and kicking. She drops down into the empty space and reaches up into the little improvised tunnel and strikes the dirt with a blade-like posture to her hand. In moments, it starts to collapse and fall in on itself until it looks like nothing more than the burrowing residue of any one of the small animals that inhabit that spartan surface of the planet.

"Damned good thing I don't have to breathe." Much. Carol follows the little wriggler, not at all certain this will be enough, but certain she doesn't have a better plan. And now they're trapped in this hole. So unless this goes somewhere else from here, they have to just hunker down, stay quiet … and wait. However long it takes. Because if they crawl out too soon, it's all for naught.

It was quiet there, in the dark. Safe for the few rumbling on the surface. The only light that eminated from the hole was the glow of his green eyes, three of them, shifting left and right to spy upon the women as they remained tucked and quiet.

The loud rumblings of the trampling feet pick up and continue, and soon they were off, marching down further away from the three and the ship that landed and onto better prospects.

Better as in they hope to catch them running.

Finally.. after a few moments, minutes, what seemed like hours of silence, the little creature drops his hands, already moving towards the makeshift closure in attempts to dig his way out. "Women. Women quiet. Good quiet. Women can run now." He wasn't going to go with them of course, he would only help them if they remain within the perimeter. His perimeter. "Run away not to. Fur-hees command all." He nods, then mumbles something under his breath.. thankfully he didn't repeat Gollum.

Caitlin's green eyes are bugging a bit larger than normal, and she hugs her knees to her chest. It's clear that the towering redhead has some mild issue with claustrophobia, but she swallows her gorge and forces herself to woman up in Carol's presence.

"Have you seen another woman around here?" Caitlin asks the little imp, peering at him. "One of them about as tall as me, with black hair? The other one smaller, with wings and… a hammer, or something?" she says, miming the swing of Shayera's mace. "Or do you have friends who might know where they are?"

Carol stays under cover with Caitlin, waiting for the little lowlie's response to the redhead's question. But when he digs himself out and commands them to depart, she growls and pushes her way to the surface, dusting herself off as best she can. "Seriously. We need to figure out which direction to run, and fast. Not to mention how to finally find the others, if we can."

It could have been nighttime there, or daybreak, but once the little critter pushes through the opening and makes contact with not-so-fresh air he breathes with excitement. "GOTTA GO!" The little thing was about to run until the pitiful sight that Caitlin once held somewhat warmed the tinglies in his four little hearts that beat from front to back and in his spine. Though, Carol could easily have stopped one or three, he tries to not appear rattled, the nimbus upon his eye snapping open and shut repeatedly as he looks over towards the platform of where they were origionally going to run.

"There." He points, two fingers closed and one long one extended. "Big woman there."

The woman with the wings?

"There." He points behind himself, where he now turns to face. But there was a chilled sense of calm there. "But no hope." He skitters forward, falling a touch down the hill into a roll that allows him to stand. "Hammer woman.." Fingers touches his head in confusion. "How you say.." Beat. "Lah'e. Lah'e. Gone? Dead? Fall Necrop-liss. No hope. No hope." He hunkers down and digs his fingers forward into the sand, using that motion to walk, kicking up a bit as he continues. "Nameless One qa' walks in Necrop-liss. No hope. No hope."

Caitlin, slightly stuck midway through emerging from the small hole, frowns at the little imp. She seems nonplussed by the news of Shayera's alleged death. "Never give up, and never surrender!" she says, in the tone of someone affirming a life motto. "She's alive, and we'll find her," she declares, fiercely. "And if she's not, then we'll rescue her anyway, and avenger her death a hundred times over!"

Caitlin pushes against the ground for leverage, but it's too soft and yielding for her to get enough purchase to get her hips through the hole. She flails a bit, then flops dramatically.

"CarolI'mstuckcanyoupleasehelp," she mutters, staring at the ground.

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