[Guilty Gear] Three Degrees to the Right, Part 8
Title: Three Degrees to the Right
Fandom: Guilty Gear
Part: 8/12
Characters: Sol, Ky
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: violence
Notes: Rock bottom. Literally.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII
Three Degrees to the Right
Part VIII
He hit rock a lot sooner than he'd thought, pain jolting through his shoulder and sending his sword skittering away. He had a second to watch it spiraling further into the darkness, before the ledge gave, sending him tumbling down a slope, and then he was falling again.
His hands scrambled to his forehead, one finger finding the destabilizer. It was almost a relief to surrender a part of his rationale for instinct, to feel the burning sensation in every cell, the bones and sinew bulging beneath his skin, rising slowly.
Much too slowly.
When the wings finally ripped free, it was like a parachute opening too late, pathetic flaps trying in vain to catch his weight.
Sometimes… I hate being the vintage model.
The force of the fall knocked the wind out of him, his vision graying into indistinct blurs.
For a moment, he could do nothing except lie where he had fallen, trying to get the air flowing in his lungs again. Suddenly, the ground rocked, tilting ever so slightly-
Not again.
-bony creaks echoing in the stillness.
With a start, he realized just where he had landed as the monster gave a deep groan, legs struggling for purchase in the air.
It's Tuesday, alright.
Gritting his teeth, he rolled to his feet, catching sight of the meat cleaver sticking out of the stone some yards away.
Lovely. Beat fighting with fists any day.
The Gear groaned again, this time in displeasure as it noticed what was scrambling around on top of it, the great tail beating against the ground with a shuddering thump. Sol didn't waste any time.
The acid sac itself was immune to fire, but the liquid within was not, the silicone skin rupturing in the heat and releasing a cloud of smoke. Amidst the agonized screeching, he leapt.
Easily covering the distance, he wrenched the weapon free from the rocks, swiveling just in time to stare down the howling maw.
Bring it on.
The irrational part of him was looking forward to paying the thing back, to skewer it with its own legs like an hors d'oeuvre, but the rest of him was calling for caution. The monster had hardly fought like a Megadeath until now, it hadn't had a reason. Now, though, he could feel the cold fury radiating from it, a focus so intense that it was palpable-two human soldiers hadn't been worthy of that, but another Gear certainly was.
They charged.
In many ways, it was like running towards an approaching freight train, the Gear barreling through solid rock with no delay, ready to simply trample him into dust. He kicked off at the last possible moment, feeling the draft as the giant arm smashed past him-
The injured leg had already begun to heal, but a massive sword strike shattered the juncture completely.
Seven more to go.
He felt more than saw the tail rising to impale him, the plates creaking as it curved, and then the rush of air as the bulky tip descended like a demolition ball. There was no room in the Gear's mind for the idea that it might miss, or the consequences, its wail of surprise echoing along the walls as Sol evaded, using his entire weight to drive the tip deep into its back.
The monster shook, ripping the tail out of its own husk in one fluid motion and tossing him at the wall.
Sol allowed the momentum to carry him, wings spreading out to touch smoothly to the rock. He remained poised for a second, watching as the monster's head jerked up to regard him, and smirked.
The fireballs hit like flash grenades, the Gear rearing back as it was blinded, and he took the chance to swoop down, driving his sword into a front leg. It cracked, sagging, but the monster twisted regardless, another punch from the forearm forcing him upwards.
There was no more than a split second to realize his mistake, to recognize that this was what it wanted, the dying embers reflecting off fresh rows of razor-sharp spikes.
Sol dived as the first row was flung at him, swerving and dodging in the limited space of the cavern as the spikes rained down-volleys, it figured the damn thing could do volleys-embedding themselves in the rock in his wake.
He fell back against the wall to anticipate the next strike, eyes on the remaining row, when something smashed into him, tearing the sword from his grasp.
The thing wrapped around him in mid-fall, and he caught an impression of sinew and pulsing flesh as he was lifted up like a prize-the arm, it was regrowing its fucking arm-before the ground came rushing up to meet him.
If he had been human, the impact would have crushed every bone in his body.
Instead, a searing pain sparked down his back, bright specks flashing before his eyes, the reverberations of the creature's advance causing them to flare with every step. The blood was roaring in his ears, and he squinted helplessly, thought he saw the blurry silhouette staring down at him…
Toying with us, like an insect-
The thought was laced with rage, strong and clear amidst the numbness, and it grew clearer still as he became aware of a new pain, sharp and sudden in his skull. Something had wrapped around his head and was lifting him, higher and higher, the pressure intensifying as he rose towards that maw, the creature's beady eyes staring at him dispassionately.
The thing didn't just want to kill him, it wanted to watch him die.
How dare it, how /dare/ it-
The anger rose like a wave, drowning out everything else, washing away thought and reason, and then something cracked, something cracked and broke, eliminating the last barrier keeping the fury at bay.
He fell, or it felt like he did, allowing the burning wrath to swallow him as instinct won out completely. His body was twisting, warping, parts turning inside out and outside in, ripping apart what he was to reassemble into something new.
He thought he heard the creature scream again, thought he saw fire, but couldn't be sure, glad for the all-consuming pain of the transformation.
The pincer slammed around him again, shears cutting into his skin, dragging him off the ground. For a moment he felt suspended, motionless, his body still writhing as it changed, and then he became aware of the draft against his skin, sharp and whistling.
The creature had taken off running, heading straight for the opposite wall.
----
It was ironic how a part of him was able to keep thinking, had always been able to keep thinking, through it all. No matter the circumstances, no matter the pain or the insanity-his own, everything-something always remained aware, clinical and dispassionate, to judge.
The thought that came to him now as he was being smashed through rock and gravel, breaking bones, tearing flesh, not knowing upwards or downwards, was as dry and humorless as any he'd ever had, but certainly the most idiotically obvious.
Being a battering ram really fucking /hurts/.
The sudden blast of chilly air against his back almost hurt more than the solid stone. Sol had a momentary impression of a great cave, piles of debris and abandoned construction work, before he was smashed into the wall again.
A howl tore from his throat as metal rods pierced his flesh, pinning him to the wall like a hapless moth. He could smell the creature's self-satisfaction at the sight, just before the tail swung around again, ripping him off his impalement and flinging him to the ground.
It didn't strike immediately, instead waiting for Sol to struggle back up, before the great tail parted, the bulky shell splitting to reveal the stinger. Then, it rushed forward, the spike ramming into his shoulder and knocking him back down, embedding itself to the hilt.
He reached out almost instinctively, his hand wrapping around the bony appendage, tugging even though it was useless, even though it wouldn't budge.
Already, he could feel the numbness spreading, a slow coldness seeping outwards from the wound. The Gear had been waiting for this, he realized, was waiting for him to understand, and accept his defeat…
Not a chance, you ugly bastard. Not a chance… /in hell/!
The crack echoed through the cave like a gunshot.
The Gear froze, confusion rolling off it as it searched for the source of the noise, its gaze eventually coming to rest on Sol-
The tail end shattered under his grasp, splinters raining everywhere. The Gear skittered back, its decapitated tail swinging aimlessly, suddenly uncertain now that it was deprived of its greatest asset.
Say goodnight.
He rushed forward, intent only on one goal. The Gear was moving to defend its flank, so sure that he'd try to come at its legs again, leaving itself wide open-
He slammed into its jaw, arm thrusting out to reach deep inside. A firestorm ripped from his hand and roared down its gullet, melting it from the inside.
The Gear screeched and struggled, writhing around him, its massive teeth leaving gashes on his arm, but he simply didn't stop, burns forming on his own skin from the strain. After what seemed like forever, the giant's death screams finally subsided, the great body collapsing in a cloud of dust.
Slowly, Sol pulled back, the stink of molten flesh burning in his throat as he gasped for air, trying to gather his wits.
The adrenaline was steadily draining away, the pain swimming back into focus, his entire body protesting the abuse it had sustained. Blood was drizzling to the ground in steady little springs-he'd have to take care of that, wouldn't he, living shashlik was only fun when it was happening to someone else-and… the limiter.
Something had happened to the limiter, he'd-
He reached up to touch his forehead, meeting smooth plating… and the mark, flaring unhindered under his palm.
Well, fuck.
A sudden noise made him jerk upright, all thoughts of putting himself back together and hunting down his equipment scattering like leaves.
"…Sol?"
-TBC-
----
A/N: Short chapter, because I like cliffhangers. XD Thanks to raging_tofu for all the hard work. C&C is appreciated.
Authorial Tea and Cookies:
- Those who know me know of my penchant for giving Sol's Gear side a voice. Since he's the prototype, there's a lot of room for speculation/experimentation in that regard, and that aside, it's damn fun.
<< Return to Part VII? | Continue to Part IX? >>
<< Return to Guilty Gear Index | Return to Fanfiction Index >>
Fandom: Guilty Gear
Part: 8/12
Characters: Sol, Ky
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: violence
Notes: Rock bottom. Literally.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII
Three Degrees to the Right
Part VIII
He hit rock a lot sooner than he'd thought, pain jolting through his shoulder and sending his sword skittering away. He had a second to watch it spiraling further into the darkness, before the ledge gave, sending him tumbling down a slope, and then he was falling again.
His hands scrambled to his forehead, one finger finding the destabilizer. It was almost a relief to surrender a part of his rationale for instinct, to feel the burning sensation in every cell, the bones and sinew bulging beneath his skin, rising slowly.
Much too slowly.
When the wings finally ripped free, it was like a parachute opening too late, pathetic flaps trying in vain to catch his weight.
Sometimes… I hate being the vintage model.
The force of the fall knocked the wind out of him, his vision graying into indistinct blurs.
For a moment, he could do nothing except lie where he had fallen, trying to get the air flowing in his lungs again. Suddenly, the ground rocked, tilting ever so slightly-
Not again.
-bony creaks echoing in the stillness.
With a start, he realized just where he had landed as the monster gave a deep groan, legs struggling for purchase in the air.
It's Tuesday, alright.
Gritting his teeth, he rolled to his feet, catching sight of the meat cleaver sticking out of the stone some yards away.
Lovely. Beat fighting with fists any day.
The Gear groaned again, this time in displeasure as it noticed what was scrambling around on top of it, the great tail beating against the ground with a shuddering thump. Sol didn't waste any time.
The acid sac itself was immune to fire, but the liquid within was not, the silicone skin rupturing in the heat and releasing a cloud of smoke. Amidst the agonized screeching, he leapt.
Easily covering the distance, he wrenched the weapon free from the rocks, swiveling just in time to stare down the howling maw.
Bring it on.
The irrational part of him was looking forward to paying the thing back, to skewer it with its own legs like an hors d'oeuvre, but the rest of him was calling for caution. The monster had hardly fought like a Megadeath until now, it hadn't had a reason. Now, though, he could feel the cold fury radiating from it, a focus so intense that it was palpable-two human soldiers hadn't been worthy of that, but another Gear certainly was.
They charged.
In many ways, it was like running towards an approaching freight train, the Gear barreling through solid rock with no delay, ready to simply trample him into dust. He kicked off at the last possible moment, feeling the draft as the giant arm smashed past him-
The injured leg had already begun to heal, but a massive sword strike shattered the juncture completely.
Seven more to go.
He felt more than saw the tail rising to impale him, the plates creaking as it curved, and then the rush of air as the bulky tip descended like a demolition ball. There was no room in the Gear's mind for the idea that it might miss, or the consequences, its wail of surprise echoing along the walls as Sol evaded, using his entire weight to drive the tip deep into its back.
The monster shook, ripping the tail out of its own husk in one fluid motion and tossing him at the wall.
Sol allowed the momentum to carry him, wings spreading out to touch smoothly to the rock. He remained poised for a second, watching as the monster's head jerked up to regard him, and smirked.
The fireballs hit like flash grenades, the Gear rearing back as it was blinded, and he took the chance to swoop down, driving his sword into a front leg. It cracked, sagging, but the monster twisted regardless, another punch from the forearm forcing him upwards.
There was no more than a split second to realize his mistake, to recognize that this was what it wanted, the dying embers reflecting off fresh rows of razor-sharp spikes.
Sol dived as the first row was flung at him, swerving and dodging in the limited space of the cavern as the spikes rained down-volleys, it figured the damn thing could do volleys-embedding themselves in the rock in his wake.
He fell back against the wall to anticipate the next strike, eyes on the remaining row, when something smashed into him, tearing the sword from his grasp.
The thing wrapped around him in mid-fall, and he caught an impression of sinew and pulsing flesh as he was lifted up like a prize-the arm, it was regrowing its fucking arm-before the ground came rushing up to meet him.
If he had been human, the impact would have crushed every bone in his body.
Instead, a searing pain sparked down his back, bright specks flashing before his eyes, the reverberations of the creature's advance causing them to flare with every step. The blood was roaring in his ears, and he squinted helplessly, thought he saw the blurry silhouette staring down at him…
Toying with us, like an insect-
The thought was laced with rage, strong and clear amidst the numbness, and it grew clearer still as he became aware of a new pain, sharp and sudden in his skull. Something had wrapped around his head and was lifting him, higher and higher, the pressure intensifying as he rose towards that maw, the creature's beady eyes staring at him dispassionately.
The thing didn't just want to kill him, it wanted to watch him die.
How dare it, how /dare/ it-
The anger rose like a wave, drowning out everything else, washing away thought and reason, and then something cracked, something cracked and broke, eliminating the last barrier keeping the fury at bay.
He fell, or it felt like he did, allowing the burning wrath to swallow him as instinct won out completely. His body was twisting, warping, parts turning inside out and outside in, ripping apart what he was to reassemble into something new.
He thought he heard the creature scream again, thought he saw fire, but couldn't be sure, glad for the all-consuming pain of the transformation.
The pincer slammed around him again, shears cutting into his skin, dragging him off the ground. For a moment he felt suspended, motionless, his body still writhing as it changed, and then he became aware of the draft against his skin, sharp and whistling.
The creature had taken off running, heading straight for the opposite wall.
----
It was ironic how a part of him was able to keep thinking, had always been able to keep thinking, through it all. No matter the circumstances, no matter the pain or the insanity-his own, everything-something always remained aware, clinical and dispassionate, to judge.
The thought that came to him now as he was being smashed through rock and gravel, breaking bones, tearing flesh, not knowing upwards or downwards, was as dry and humorless as any he'd ever had, but certainly the most idiotically obvious.
Being a battering ram really fucking /hurts/.
The sudden blast of chilly air against his back almost hurt more than the solid stone. Sol had a momentary impression of a great cave, piles of debris and abandoned construction work, before he was smashed into the wall again.
A howl tore from his throat as metal rods pierced his flesh, pinning him to the wall like a hapless moth. He could smell the creature's self-satisfaction at the sight, just before the tail swung around again, ripping him off his impalement and flinging him to the ground.
It didn't strike immediately, instead waiting for Sol to struggle back up, before the great tail parted, the bulky shell splitting to reveal the stinger. Then, it rushed forward, the spike ramming into his shoulder and knocking him back down, embedding itself to the hilt.
He reached out almost instinctively, his hand wrapping around the bony appendage, tugging even though it was useless, even though it wouldn't budge.
Already, he could feel the numbness spreading, a slow coldness seeping outwards from the wound. The Gear had been waiting for this, he realized, was waiting for him to understand, and accept his defeat…
Not a chance, you ugly bastard. Not a chance… /in hell/!
The crack echoed through the cave like a gunshot.
The Gear froze, confusion rolling off it as it searched for the source of the noise, its gaze eventually coming to rest on Sol-
The tail end shattered under his grasp, splinters raining everywhere. The Gear skittered back, its decapitated tail swinging aimlessly, suddenly uncertain now that it was deprived of its greatest asset.
Say goodnight.
He rushed forward, intent only on one goal. The Gear was moving to defend its flank, so sure that he'd try to come at its legs again, leaving itself wide open-
He slammed into its jaw, arm thrusting out to reach deep inside. A firestorm ripped from his hand and roared down its gullet, melting it from the inside.
The Gear screeched and struggled, writhing around him, its massive teeth leaving gashes on his arm, but he simply didn't stop, burns forming on his own skin from the strain. After what seemed like forever, the giant's death screams finally subsided, the great body collapsing in a cloud of dust.
Slowly, Sol pulled back, the stink of molten flesh burning in his throat as he gasped for air, trying to gather his wits.
The adrenaline was steadily draining away, the pain swimming back into focus, his entire body protesting the abuse it had sustained. Blood was drizzling to the ground in steady little springs-he'd have to take care of that, wouldn't he, living shashlik was only fun when it was happening to someone else-and… the limiter.
Something had happened to the limiter, he'd-
He reached up to touch his forehead, meeting smooth plating… and the mark, flaring unhindered under his palm.
Well, fuck.
A sudden noise made him jerk upright, all thoughts of putting himself back together and hunting down his equipment scattering like leaves.
"…Sol?"
-TBC-
----
A/N: Short chapter, because I like cliffhangers. XD Thanks to raging_tofu for all the hard work. C&C is appreciated.
Authorial Tea and Cookies:
- Those who know me know of my penchant for giving Sol's Gear side a voice. Since he's the prototype, there's a lot of room for speculation/experimentation in that regard, and that aside, it's damn fun.
<< Return to Part VII? | Continue to Part IX? >>
<< Return to Guilty Gear Index | Return to Fanfiction Index >>