Fandom Vampire Hunter D | The Plight of Elysium

[ThePowerCosmic]

​

Vardi welcomed the Hudsonian’s easygoing pace after last night’s storm. He spent the better half of the morning cleaning up the mess made in its wake, reorganizing his makeshift work bench in the hangar, while double checking his equipment for damage. Thankfully, most of it went unscathed, save a spoke from the chainssaw blade of his spear, bent out of place just enough to ruin its spinning mechanism. This only required a quick fix, however, this wouldn’t be the case for his next task.

“Hold still, Zardock!” Vardi barked.

The giant attached to the mechanical arm he was fixing let out an irritated groan.

“How much longer?” The man’s deep voice echoed throughout the room. “They needed me topside 15 minutes ago. Miss Augustine is gonna chew me out if I don’t get up there soon.”

“You rush this and the grip systems on your hand could go haywire. We don’t want you breaking bones from handshakes now, do we?”

"Says who?" Zardoock scoffed. "Stupid storm."

“We can agree on that much. How the hell did you break this thing anyways? Military grade tech doesn’t go off the fritz from some turbulence."

Vardi didn’t need to look up. He could almost feel the big brute’s grin creasing around the unlit cigar in his mouth.“Let’s just say me and Aurinder had a sparring match that got a little... out of hand. Had her on the ropes until the damn ship started dancing. Lost my balance and landed it on it wrong I guess...”

Some details were being left out, but Vardi didn’t pry. While Zardock was the largest person on the ship, it was argued that Aurinder was the most dangerous. Her claim to fame was a friendly rivalry with his old mentor, Hunter D. She wasn’t the talkative sort—a fact discovered when she shushed him after inquiring about D’s whereabouts—but she had the aura of a seasoned killer that commanded respect. Aurinder definitely broke his arm.

He took off his work goggles and gloves with a confident nod.

“Alright, try it out.” Vardi said.

Zardock frowned as it took a moment to calibrate the arm to the rest of his cybernetic body. Loud whirls and clicks within the appendage made it sound like the engine of an old car. After a few glitching ticks of the hand, the entire arm eventually moved in a natural motion.

“Hot damn!” Zardock said, flexing with a satisfied look on his face. He then raised his hand, allowing his index finger to retract until the finger tip produced a small flame. After he lit his cigar and began puffing away, he said: “You’re a saint Vardi. Knew you were good for somethin.”

“Not quite big guy. I didn’t do this out of the kindness of my own heart. Fork up the coin.”

The cyborg waved him off as he trudged up the stairs towards the deck, leaving behind a trail of smoke. “I don’t have it on me. I’ll pay you after I’m done with all the topside chores. I promise!”

Vardi rolled his eyes.

***​

After the Hudsonian crew finished their duties and cleared the deck, Vardi slipped out to get some fresh air. He hoped to find Zardock bumbling around so he could collect his fee, but he knew better. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the cyborg even had deck duty to begin with.

Today marked the fourth morning since him and Lydia embarked on Serpico's airship. He'd flown many times before, but never on anything as extravagant as this. The Hudsonian looked more like a luxury cruiser than an intrepid hunting vessel. Despite its ornamental decor and gold trimmings, there was some serious power underneath it all. It had a state-of-the-art steam engine, along with a giant helium balloon and winged-propellers. Fast and fancy, just like its owner, Vardi shook his head. Their relationship wasn’t complicated.

Unlike Vardi’s rapport with Lydia, it was clear that Serpico Loche cared more about their resourcefulness than any ideas about friendship. Never mind the handful of times the pair saved him when the Swords of Serpico couldn’t. Vardi’s ability to repair complicated machinery around the Hudsonian, and Lydia’s skill for detecting poisons—whom he’s been using frequently to make sure each meal isn’t his last— were the real costs of admission. If the journey wasn’t as treacherous on horseback, Vardi and Lydia would’ve preferred to now have to associate with Loche. However, they all were heading in the same direction anyways, and it was nice for once to not have to rough it out on the wild countryside.

A sharp gust of wind pierced his skin, barely kept warm by his light blue tunic and grey slacks. He felt like he could be lifted up into the sky without his armor and gadgetry weighing him down. Vardi grabbed ahold of the side rails, embracing the clean air as he stared out into the horizon. The vermilion sun was like a cosmic hearth, lighting the clouds aflame as it bathed the scorched wasteland with its glow.

“Beautiful...” He said underneath his breath.

“If you say so...” The raspy voice of Augustine Windlass ruined his tranquil moment of silence.

Vardi turned to see the white-haired Hunter with a gloved finger pointing up. “You’d probably fall head-over-heels in love with this shitty planet if you saw it from outer space. Everything looks beautiful from a distance.”

He tried his best not to roll his eyes. Augustine made it a habit to let everyone know her outer-worldly perspective from traversing the stars. What she’ll fail to mention are the reasons why she was up there in the first place. One could easily guess judging by the scar that ran down the left side of her face, and her overall grisly demeanor.

“Everything except Zardock.” Vardi said. He noted her grin as her hand dug into the slim pocket of her form-fitting suit.

“That’s partly why I’m here.” Augustine said, handing over a small clump of high currency coinage. “Thanks for fixing that idiot’s dumb arm.“

Vardi nodded, pocketing the exchange, which more than covered his fee.

“Much appreciated. Thought I was going to have to chase him down for it. What’s the other reason you’re here?” Vardi asked, measuring her response in hopes it wasn’t for another repair request.

“Have you seen your partner? The boss will want to have his breakfast inspected soon.” Augustine said, rolling her eyes.

“Has Loche always been this paranoid?” Vardi asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Unfortunately. With his brother nearing the end of his tenure at Loche Industries, Serpico thinks the board will send assassins to prevent his succession. Little do they know, the slacker would gladly hand over the company keys than be forced to act like a responsible adult.”

Vardi laughed. “Well, I’ll let Lydia know if I see her.”

“Thanks. Tell her I said good luck. He’s in one of those moods today.” And with that, Augustine exited the deck, leaving Vardi alone.

 

[Lucyfer]

Traversing the skies was not a novel experience to the bounty hunter Lydia Tepes, but it was still infrequent enough that she felt the flutters of anxiety whenever she stepped out of any of the cabins and into the open air. The mutant of Barberoi much preferred to have her feet on solid ground. She also preferred the sense of more control over her environment.

On a ship such as the Hudsonian, there was no control. She understood it little. What gave her comfort was that her now-constant companion, Vardi, did understand it. The Swords of Serpico may be generally trustworthy, but they were still rival hunters. The black-haired mutant had seen enough of that, as well as hunters within their own groups betray another.

Out on the frontier, it was still a lawless world.

And so, when not trying to keep herself awake in Serpico’s presence, Lydia was either within her quarters, or within a lower level that had become something of a garage, cleaning her energy bike. There was little to do. By day two it was in pristine shape from their travels across the frontier, and its stay in the garage was keeping its energy up. And yet, those dark eyes still trailed over every inch of the silvery bike, the blue veins of energy thrumming at a low pulse through it, inert, but ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Not that it would do Lydia much good to go barreling out into the open air, miles up.

So she just wiped at the handlebars one more time, before tossing the nearly-white cloth at the nearest bin and stretching up, black tank pulling up a bit at her mid-drift with her, revealing more of those black-lines which crossed her golden body.

Not that much of anything she wore hid it – the blue jean shorts and the tank, if anything, advertised it.

Around hunters like the Swords of Serpico, Lydia didn’t want them to forget what she could do. Not to mention, she heard a rumor that the way these tattoos moved made a few people sick. She got some pleasure in that.

‘It’s nearly breakfast time.’ Lydia had no clock to tell, just her own sense of hunger.

That meant seeing Serpico, which meant she should not make herself so scarce. Although, she did at least want a drink before then, and so on her way up through the ship, she ducked into one of the crew’s lounges to grab a mug of coffee, which she carried with her as she made her way back to one of the decks, where she knew she would be visible enough for those who would inevitably come to find her.

The cool breeze and the warm cup was still a delectable experience, no matter the butterflies that burst into life in her stomach. As was the way the steam was wafted into her face with that first step out.

She cocked a lopsided smile as she saw Vardi there, and approached the railing, “I guess we’re not going to crash anytime soon if you’re out here,” she greeted, leaning into the railing and holding her arms out over it, cup included. She didn’t drink yet. It’d be cooled soon enough for that.

The black tattoos expanded in the cold, warming her naturally, further. “You must be cold if I am,” she opted to point out to him, “Everything okay?” She figured it was, she hadn’t heard much news on the ship, but it was worth checking in.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Some time before….​

Elysium.

It stood as a testament to its origins, the name long forgotten by humans of a blissful afterlife paradise. Elysium now stood millennia after humanity had fallen and risen, metal-crystal walls capturing and reflecting the light of the dusky sun dancing, white flowers vining across those same walls and bleeding a clear sap. Where once the words ‘abandon all hope, ye who enter here’ would have made sense above the gates, now those same gates held hope and promise to any who walked through them – beckoning them forward to be engulfed by the warmth of Elysium.

To feast on the ambrosia of Noble harvest and Noble technology, to enjoy the high arts that one might dream of finding, and fail to find, in the Capital – here, where the modern and the past mingled as one, in an eternal dance. Amongst the glory of the shimmering wall, were crystalline computers and DNA-keyed locks stood vigilant.

Fountains of divine figures sprung water into the air, where wishes were made in blood in not coin.

Beasts of legends walked upon that wall, and within them – memories, dreams, stories, imaginations, of a woman older than all within Elysium, who knew no god or goddess would ever take her to such a land as she once dreamed of, when she was but a girl running across stone walkways in her peplos.

A woman of carmine hair, who swooned as a few lights flickered out within her manor, eyes fluttering shut as the familiar sensation of day fell upon her all at once, only to be caught by a vigilant guard, and carried to a chair, where soon she would stir again as night came more naturally, no longer bewitched by the incense which had been burning.

Her golden eyes opened and a smile curved her painted lips as she saw the brunette man standing off to the side, “Thank you, Marshall.”

He inclined both head and body, locks of shaggy hair moving, revealing for a moment the pointed ears that hinted at his mutant state. Not that his own golden eyes weren’t a giveaway to some that his humanity wasn’t pure. He offered his hand, hooked nails at the end of each finger, and the woman accepted, drawing herself up. She was no imposing figure, but a Noble such as she had no need of putting on airs.

Her power pulsed in the city around her.

In the golden beast that came walking into her chambers next with hardly a word, throwing open the left of two doors and striding in, earning a look from the other man of utter exasperation.

“Pello,” the woman called to him as she dropped the hand, smiling warmly at her most rebellious child.

The youngest, but a wonder, golden scaled and golden winged, with light dancing in his black eyes, and twisting black horns upon his bald head. He retained only a vaguely humanoid form, more dragon than human at this point, and positively mutant.

“You wanted to see me when night fell?”

“I did. I have a task for you,” she said as she approached the brute, “I need you to go outside of Elysium and hunt for me.”

He tilted his head to the right, “What do I need to hunt that you cannot?”

“Those who may find you in the day,” she said, “I need you to find hunters capable of posing a challenge to you, and bring them to me. Alive,” she added, lifting a finger, “I need them to go further than you.”

“Whatever you need, Amaranth, I can—” but she held up a finger, placing it to his lips, stilling his enthusiasm. His golden scales shimmered at the touch, as if they might shift, or turn over.

Oh, they could.

Pello was not all he seemed, either, no matter how inhuman he already looked.

“I know you can,” she soothed the ego, “but I need you close. There is a change in the air.” In her blood, in truth, she felt it, nearly dreamt it, in the moment between the dying of the incense and the rising of the moon.

“I need him.”

And although Pello’s eyes looked up to a portrait many vampires had of the Sacred Ancestor, Marshall could only look sorrowfully at Amaranth, far more aware than Pello of what she meant, and what it could mean.

 

[ThePowerCosmic]

The sound of Lydia’s voice was the most comforting thing he heard all morning. He laughed at her comment.

“It’s amazing how they’ve managed to keep afloat. For all of Serpico’s gaudy showmanship, he lacks a crew worth their salt around a steam engine.” Vardi wanted to go off on a tangent about how the Hudsonian was inefficiently managed, but he calmed himself. He had a knack for expressing disdain for shoddy work, and though Lydia was far more patient with him than most, he at least had the self-awareness to illicit restraint for her sake. Thankfully, Lydia’s follow up question allowed for an abrupt change of subject.

“Speaking of Serpico, as you might guess, he’s in need of your talent. Miss Augustine spoke to me not long ago. Apparently, he’s in some sort of mood.” Vardi looked around to make sure they were still alone before continuing. “She also told me that he fears assassins are among us; Some sort of ploy to keep him from taking over the family business. Oddly enough, Augustine doesn’t seem too concerned about it. Whatever the case might be, we best be careful.”

Vardi let out a sigh, relieved to unload such worrisome information to a fellow confidant. He gazed at her, watching as the sunlight refracted off her inked skin, taking note of the cup of coffee in her hand. Its distinct scent triggered his appetite, making him realize that he didn’t have breakfast yet.

“Have you noticed anything suspicious?” Vardi said, now propping himself up by the rail with his elbow, rubbing his stomach.

 

[Lucyfer]

Really, Lydia did not need to know about how terrible Serpico’s crew was. It hardly made her anymore comfortable so high up in the sky, and she couldn’t help but shoot a dark look towards Vardi as his tone threatened to take him on a rambling tangent about all the ways this heap of junk shouldn’t even be flying, let alone holding together.

She might have to immediately retire to the lowest floor of the craft.

Not that it would help much.

Thankfully, Vardi understood not to continue, and she eased her posture as he went off onto the topic of Serpico looking for her. “More suspicious than mercenary groups who kill for money?” Lydia couldn’t help but ask, tone pitching up in amusement, “Hardly,” any one of them could have been hired to off Serpico. Even his own group, though Lydia doubted he would be looking at them.

If anything, “We likely seem the most suspicious,” she pointed out, “Or the quickest to blame,” if a scapegoat were needed, “I’d be cautious.”

She took a sip from her cup, before pushing away from the railing. Apparently, she had a job to go tend to, “Thanks for the information,” she lifted her cup in a bit of a cheers gesture, “You should go get some food, too, Vardi.” His gestures not lost on her, before she would walk off down the familiar path to where Serpico usually took his meal, trying not to think too hard about how this entire craft could fall out of the sky at any second.

‘Thanks, Vardi.’

 

[ThePowerCosmic]

"Good point." Vardi said as Lydia sipped her coffee. The two were the last passengers to board the Hudsonian, making them the least trusted among the crew. Should anything go south, they'll likely be the first to be suspected of any foul play. "We'll have to keep our eyes open then. Heck, if we can catch these usurpers, maybe Serpico can throw a hefty bag of coin our way."

His stomach growled in agreement as she suggested he get something to eat. "I will... just going to take in this view for a bit." Vardi said, waving her off as she made her way towards Serpico. It wouldn't be long until one of the crew members from engineering sought him out, preventing him from having any sort of breakfast.

"Please, sir!" The bean pole of a young lad said, averting his eyes. "The pressure gauges are giving false readings. We're not sure--"

"Of course you're not sure! With how things are run here, I'm amazed the damn thing hasn't exploded in our faces yet! Take me to the Chief Engineer this instant! If I have to train you circus clowns how to do your job, then so be it! But believe you me, it will not be an enjoyable experience. You are going to learn the hard way today!" The dejected crew member could only nod as he followed Vardi in tow, preparing himself for what's to come.

***​

From the downward steps to the long corridor branching out into different sections of the main floor, blue coats could be seen scampering about in a nervous frenzy. Whether cleaning furnishings, restocking supplies, or checking inventory, the crew appeared more like a chaotic mess than a well-oiled machine. Amidst the crowded hallway, Silas Fielding stood out like a sore thumb with his silver armor. It somehow looked both medieval and futuristic. His bald head was covered with a tinny skull cap that had chain mail links drooping down on his temples.

"There you are Miss Tepes! Hurry this instant!" Silas didn't wait for her response. He turned and marched straight down the hall and through the double doors that lead into the kitchen. Three terrified cooks were startled by his entrance, shaking in their sweat stained white coats and chef hats. Silas waited for Lydia to enter the kitchen, to which he immediately pointed to the bowl of lobster soup and a plate of eggs Benedict.

"Mr. Loche has been patiently waiting." Silas said, his green eyes and furrowed brow sternly aimed at the chefs. "Per his request, like many times before, he asks that you check his food for any...foul play. Unlike before, you will evaluate it here, in front of the chefs. Mr. Loche wants to rule these blokes out once and for all. You see, he thinks that should you find poison this time around, you will be able to determine who of the three are the saboteurs."

"This is ludicrous!" The smallest chef yelled, shaking his hands.

"We'd do no such thing to Mr. Loche!" The oldest pleaded.

"Why does he insist we'd poison his food?" The tallest of the three said. "Has he gone mad!?"

Silas frowned as he restrained himself from raising his spiked club at them. Instead, he grunted at Lydia. "Hurry, before the food gets cold."

 

[Lucyfer]

The Swords of Serpico were an interesting group, to say the least. The internal rivalries made it worth sticking around for the youngest of the recruits, Irvine Yonn. He rarely said much, but the wry smile was also, rarely, gone from his thin lips. It was present even as he watched steam puff from the pipes that the engineers were fretting over, beneath his black hat, that smirk always just out of the shadows.

His honey eyes followed the movements of the engineers, and eventually, the movements of the hunter Vardi, head cocking occasionally to follow that movement without actually moving himself.

He never did say much about himself, and plenty questioned how capable he was, given his own lean figure and gaunt face. Augustine knew he was capable, and that was really all that Irvine felt he needed to have.

That, and his rather endless curiosity, which would keep him listening in to Vardi as he sought to understand what was around him – and more importantly, who was around him.

Being a psychic was hard work if you didn’t know what you were looking at. Not that he made that common knowledge, either – he didn’t need Serpico keeping him at his side 24/7. Serpico couldn’t pay him enough for that, really.

And Irvine wasn’t in this for money.

It was all his damned curiosity and need to understand.

~***~

Lydia didn’t bother to hide her eye roll at the ‘miss Tepes’. She wouldn’t say anything, of course, she’d found how pointless that was among polite society, those accustomed to it, or petty assholes. Tepes had been a name she grabbed in the need for a surname, once upon a time. Perhaps a mutant didn’t actually need such things, but then again, it certainly helped.

Lydia did step in and took note of the terrified chefs, and the breakfast. ‘Lobster soup?’ Well, when you’re rich, you could eat anything at any hour of the day. Still, it wasn’t exactly Lydia’s favorite cuisine to start with.

“As Mr. Loche requests,” Lydia wouldn’t argue, although she wondered how she was supposed to determine which chef it was. Unless they didn’t clean very well, which by their harried looks, they may not have had much time to do so.

She picked up a spoon, dipped it into the soup, and took a taste of it.

Her poison skill wasn’t something she’d learned by study, but it was simply innate now. Her blood reacted to poison and destroyed it. She hadn’t yet found one that could put her down.

In either case, there was no reaction to the lobster, and she set the spoon aside, to take up a clean fork, and take off a portion of the eggs benedict to eat, making sure to get a bit of every part of it, before trying it.

Once again, nothing.

Serpico’s paranoia might not be abated by this, but at least these three were cleared, for now. “There’s no poison, Silas,” she set the fork down by the spoon and stepped away, “I doubt anyone who tries to kill Silas will do so by food while they know I’m here,” it had been four days, after all, and Silas ate nothing without her testing it.

Now, when she was gone, that might be another story.

 

[ThePowerCosmic]

As soon as the crew member led Vardi into the engine room, they were hit by a scorching heat, as if they somehow ended up in the desert plains. His mind went off into a dozen directions, cataloging, listing, and making note of everything done marginally right, and inconceivably wrong, from an eye test. Without consulting the Chief Engineer, he whistled for everyone’s attention, filing them up in a straight line.

“Alright, you and you!” He pointed to a random pair. “Head up into the overpressure chimney immediately! Make sure the lid is off until the boiler’s pressure gauge reduces from whatever hellish meter its currently needling at!”

The pair saluted, then questioned why they did so when realizing Vardi wasn’t a ranking officer. Never the less, they made no fuss about it; they were thrilled to be out of the hot and muggy steam engine.

“I’ll need you AND you” He pointed to the next pair of blue coats. “One of you check the gas levels in the helium balloon, the other survey for any damage. Report back here in fifteen minutes. Sound the two-way radio for immediate concerns.”

This pair looked nervously at the Chief Engineer, who came stomping down from whatever machine crevice he lost himself in.

“Excuse me!“ The middle-aged man said, bushy frown, and even bushier mustache, moving independently from each other. It reminded Vardi of hairy caterpillars stuck on a wood burned mask. Vardi shooed away the pair, who awkwardly left, unsure as to who to salute anymore. “Why must I constantly remind you, Sir Langford? This is MY crew and MY steam engine!”

“No, kind Sir, this is Mr. Loche’s steam engine,” Vardi countered without a forethought. “And I doubt he’ll appreciate its poor upkeep under your supervision. It’s damn near hades in here! Are you looking to slow cook your men alive for the main dish tonight?”

The remaining crew of three looked at each other, then glared at the Chief. The one who approached Vardi about this troublesome situation held his chin high as he stepped forward.

“Sir Galimede, with all due respect, you’re not fit to lead us! We’re overworked and misdirected. You’ve refused our suggestions and—”

“So, it’s a mutiny is it!?“ Sir Galimede snatched a large wrench from a nearby work desk, daring his treacherous crew to come at him. He then looked over to a man Vardi hadn’t noticed was in the room until now. “Well, Yonn, are you going to help me out here or what?!”

The man was a quiet observer, smirking, as if enjoying the spectacle before him. Vardi realized he was one of Serpico’s newer Swords, and was annoyed that he didn’t know much about him. The tension made the room hot enough to be on the sun at this point. Regardless, Chief Engineer Galimede needed to be removed from the premises, so Vardi can help set things right; he only hoped Yonn wouldn’t interfere. Geez, the sooner we get off of this ship the better...

***​

Silas clenched his teeth as Lydia’s test proved Loche’s theory wrong. He restrained himself from chucking the food onto the floor in a fit of rage. The three chefs were both relieved and frustrated by this sudden shift in blame. While they never intended to poison Mr. Loche’s food, they’ll definitely be leaving special surprises in his future meals. The three chefs thanked Lydia profusely as she made her exit, then immediately lowered their heads as Silas barked at them.

“Hurry up serve Mr. Loche his meal! He’s been waiting for almost an hour now.” Silas said, glaring at Lydia and her parting words. The presumed assassination attack speculated by Serpico put most of his Swords at unease. With how haphazard things have been on board the Hudsonian, Silas fears something bad will happen unless they find these assassins soon.

 

[Lucyfer]

‘You’re not a captain, it is hardly a mutiny.’ The hunter along the wall did not speak up, although his amusement remained as the situation around him began to spiral out of control. The engineering chief, who had no right to that title, grabbed a wrench as if that was going to help him with someone like Vardi.

Perhaps he knew that, though.

He made an even stupider error by calling out to Irvine Vonn himself, and the hunter lifted his head, brown brows raised in mirth as he was questioned by Galimede. “Sure,” he gave a shrug, but didn’t specify how he intended to ‘help him’ as he pushed from the wall and strolled casually towards the intercom system near one of the doors.

Once again, he leaned besides it – not on the door, thankfully – and pressed down the button. “This is Irvine Vonn in the engine room to report a mutiny of inept Galimede, can we get assistance down here to make sure Galimede is just tossed in the brig and not killed, please?” His voice was rather dry, sarcasm dripping off each syllable, as he gave his idea of ‘help’ to Galimede.

“Received, Vonn,” the captain spoke through, “I’ll reach out to the other Swords for assistance,” he relayed, and Vonn put on a shit-eating grin for Galimede as the message dropped off and hung in the air. He was not anticipating his help to be appreciated by Galimede, but that was hardly relevant.

With any luck, they’d get him out of there, and Vardi could train up these others to manage the ship so that they would be able to continue on when Vardi and his tattooed friend left them behind. He didn’t think they were soon to join Serpico permanently.

No, actually…of that, he would say, he was certain. No vision ever indicated them in such a position, not that he looked for it.

He just didn’t see a long-term relationship with them when he looked into his own future.

 

[ThePowerCosmic]

Galimede couldn't help but slump in defeat at Vonn's response. With the three crew members inching towards him, the--now former--Chief Engineer dropped the wrench and put his hands up.

"Fine!" He spat, heading towards the door as he waved everyone off. "See how well you'll do without me, you ungrateful slags! When the shit really hits the fan, you'll be sorry you upended the only person with some sense around here."

As Galimede turned toward the exit, a man with a cone-shaped hat was waiting for him at the door, blue cape flapping in the wind. Everyone recognized him as Archibald Wyverstone, one of the more senior Swords of Serpico; though for a Sword, he was far more proficient with a firearm. Archibald was one of the Frontier's most deadliest marksman. He glanced over to Irvine with a casual nod before returning his silver gaze to Galimede.

"So, finally exposed for the incompetent fool you always were, eh Galimede?" Archibald cackled as the man said nothing. He gave one final look to Vardi, eying him with much scrutiny. "Your replacement better be up to snuff, or his trip might get cut short too."

Galimede's head shot up with a quizzical look on his face. "Wait. You're not going to throw me off this thing are you? We're almost at Elysi--"

Archibald grabbed him by the collar and dragged the man upstairs, laughing at his attempt to break free. Vardi shot a concerned look back at Irvine.

"He's...he's not really going to throw him off the ship is he?" Vardi asked.

***​

The first pair of crew workers did as they were told. By opening the chimney, all of the built up pressure was venting out into the atmosphere. The second pair checked the helium levels of the balloon, then ran a climbing line throughout its inflated surface to look for damage. At this moment, a sharp gust of wind knocked each of them off guard. They swung at the end of their ropes at each side of the balloon, dangling helplessly. Neither one saw the streaks of black that crashed into them with sharp claws and teeth, stabbing like a torrent of knives.

"Bat fiends!" One from the first pair called out, pointing up as the winged-humanoid creatures tore their mates apart. The other crew mate grabbed his radio and screamed: "Alert! We're being attacked by Bat Fiends!"

"How many are there?!" The captain radioed back.

A small black cloud hovered 100 meters portside, shrieking in unison as they then dove toward the Hudsonian. The ship's klaxons sounded throughout, igniting a frenzied hustle as the pack of twelve creatures joined their kin alongside the balloon, nipping at the remains of the two crew mates still hanging from their lines.

"Too many for us to handle!" The crew mate screamed into his radio before narrowly dodging a talon swipe.

"Oh god!" Galimede staggered onto the deck's floor as the fiends swooped overhead. Archibald stared up at them in defiance, but without his firearms, he knew this was going to be a challenge. He unsheathed the knife strapped to his boot and flicked it menacingly at the fiends circling above. They were at least two meters tall, with bulbous milky eyes and rodent-like facial features. Their matted thick fur glistened in the sun, and their wings cut into the air with a threatening sound, almost like whips, as they began tearing into the Hudsonian with reckless abandon. Help will come any minute, but if push came to shove, Archibald won't hesitate to use Galimede as bait.

The first pair was still by the overpressure chimney at the stern, using the high guard rails as a shield from incoming claws and teeth.

***​

In the middle of Vardi and Irvine's brief conversation, the radio alert, followed by the sound of the alarms, blared into the engine room. Vardi shook his head at 'Bat Fiends', then yelled at the three crew members.

"Maintain nominal pressure levels here and board up this damn door behind us!" Vardi said, motioning Irvine toward the exit. "Those damn things must've been drawn to all that steam we dumped. I'll meet you on the deck."

Before Irvine could ask where he was going, Vardi said aloud: "I need to get my tools!" then bolted down the hallway toward the hangar, leaving the hunter at the stairway leading up to the deck.

 

[Lucyfer]

Irvine had only just shrugged his shoulder’s to Vardi’s query. He didn’t keep track of such things, but it wouldn’t surprise him if Galimede was missing in action by the time they reached their destination. That was when the alert came blaring through about bat fiends, and Irvine sighed. Not how he wanted this day to continue, but not much of a surprise to him.

Attracting aerial attention was inevitable.

‘But at least it won’t be the dragon.’

In all he’d seen of looking ahead, the dragon was polite enough not to strike them in the air.

Irvine walked towards the exit, nodding as Vardi said he would meet him. He could already tell Vardi was relatively unarmed, although he wouldn’t have been surprised if he had something small and hidden away amongst his clothing. He was a hunter, after all. ‘I’m not sure where you get the idea I’m currently armed.’ Irvine didn’t say that, he didn’t offer any commentary, but took his own turn towards his quarters.

He had a few different weapons, and while no one could call him an expert in any, he was capable enough when he was three-seconds ahead of his foes, and that’s what he intended to be as he took a calming breath.

A slow exhale began the process of setting into his trance, and he grabbed for his wrist-bow, a makeshift crossbow he could strap onto his wrist and load rapidly. He could see that was going to do a lot better than hoping for one to get into melee range. ‘At least these don’t seem to be like the bat people.’

Grabbing a handful of bolts, he stuffed them into a pocket and walked back out to see the progress of things so far.

~***~

Lydia had only just grabbed a quiche muffin when she heard the alert.

A frustrated groan escaped her and she shoved the muffin into her mouth and stormed towards the exit of the ship. ‘Not letting some goddamn bat fiends kill us now.’ Her thoughts swam through several other curses and exhortations at whatever deity might care enough to listen as she made her way up the stairs, and onto the deck, dusting her hands off alongside her shorts.

She could see the fiends clearly enough as she came onto the deck, tearing at the Hudsonian.

It didn’t really surprise her that she was the first out – everyone else had to go get their fancy weapons, if they didn’t already have them. Given, she probably would have preferred having a weapon right about then, but she wasn’t going to go marching back to get one when she could help save the ship from crashing.

So, she did what she usually did.

She bit the wrist of one arm, and then the other, letting that dangerously potent blood stain her lips and hands as it started to drip downwards, darker than blood had any right to be.

The scent of it drew in most creatures that ate meat. Even humans could be caught in the lure of it, though they usually had enough sense to draw back – most didn’t eat raw, after all. But bat fiends? Their sense of smell might not be the most powerful, but it was carried by the high winds and progress of the ship towards them, and some broke away from tearing about the ship to go after the tastier thing.

Lydia waited until they were closer, a few hitting the deck rather than flying at her, but those that took the flying option to try and dig their talons in were instead met sharp blood that cut through them like a blade – a sight the others kept in consideration as they hesitated, smart enough to realize prey that fought back required some level of calculation.

 

[ThePowerCosmic]

"Cute trick." A pair of bat fiends on Lydia's peripheral were severed into halves. Aurinder flicked the blood off her claymore as she joined the hunter's side. "Messy, but effective."

The fiends on deck snarled at them, and as more swooped down to join their kin, they grew bolder in their approach. Galimede cowered behind Archibald, who was relieved to see Lydia and Aurinder.

"About time somebody showed up!" Archibald hissed as he took another swipe at a random bat fiend. Aurinder grabbed the rifle strapped behind her and held it up for the hunter to take notice.

"Missing something?" She threw it over to him in a high arc. Several fiends tried to leap up and grab the weapon as it sailed over their heads, but Aurinder denied their attempts with fatal cuts, rendering limbs and heads useless.

Archibald jumped up to retrieve his weapon. He wasted no time by firing at the closest target, then directed his aim towards the pressure chimney. High velocity slugs came punching through the assailants nipping at the two crew mates. While the herd seemed to be thinning, the sky was getting harder to see. Their numbers were overwhelming, to the point of nearly blotting out the sun.

"This is bad! This is really bad!" Galimede croaked.

"Just another day on the Frontier." Zardock's tinny voice reverberated throughout the deck. He swung his hammer in a large arc, clearing everything out from its radius like a mop to a spill. Augustine dashed forward with the grace of a seasoned dancer.

"With this many damn fiends, there's got to be an apex king around nearby." Augustine said aloud, nonchalantly parrying and striking attacks coming her way. "We need to kill it to get these bastards off of us!"

"A king you say?" Archibald said within earshot. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Never met a Bat King before." Zardock chimed in, amused with himself. "Where the hell is he, so I can knock the crown off its ugly mug!"

"Trust me. You'll know when you see him." Augustine said as she plunged her sword through a creature's torso. "Until then, make sure these freaks don't tear into this damn ship, or we'll end up flatter than Galimede's face!"

***​

Vardi sprang into the hangar and rushed to put on his armor and gear. The morning light flickered through the viewports as the fiends were gathering in droves from below the aft of the ship. As he finished locking everything in place, he approached the window and squinted his eyes. Trailing behind the Hudsonian was a perfectly symmetrical ball, but as Vardi focused, he saw that it was made entirely out of the winged creatures. They were swarming around something that was hard to identify, but Vardi knew what it was. Blast it all.

"Good morning, your majesty." As he said that, Vardi retracted from the viewport. Eyes widened, he grabbed ahold of the closest installation attached to the wall, but it made no difference.

KACHOOM!

The hunter hurdled across the room and slammed against the furthest wall, knocking the air out of his lungs. The force of impact to the ship was so abrupt that the sound of skittering, squealing bat fiends fell silent for a split second. A large creature bore through the hangar bay doors, larger than Zardock by a meter. Its muscles rippled with threatening power as it tore into everything still left standing.

​

"Well, that's one way to make an entrance." Vardi said as he dusted himself off. The Bat King snarled as he activated his chainsaw spear. "This is definitely not how I expected today to go."

Fiends began pouring into the entrance that their king made for them, swarming all over the walls and ceiling now. One hand still on his spear, he brought out a fist-sized contraption with the other, and flicked it in the creatures' direction, then put on a pair of goggles in one swift motion. The object released a brilliant white light that made the creatures scream and crumple backward. The king shielded himself with his arms as it struggled to regain its composure, then, out of frustration, made a roar that shook the entire ship.

"We've got a problem in the hangar," Vardi said into the intercom device attached to the wall. "Some help would be nice." On the deck, the bat fiends changed up their tactics as soon as they heard their king's command. While a good portion was still throwing themselves at the hunters and the crew, most redirected their efforts back to the king, all while the ship began wading in an uncontrolled vector.

​