I have only received Kyra's submission to this cause. The other two are thus still welcome on late submission, but that means less time for your work to be voted on.
Rykosar:
Spoiler (Click to Show)
The older man took in a slow draw of air, his metal leg clomping against the ground in contrast with Marat’s normal pace. “I’ll be alright. Nothing the modern times couldn’t fix. Though the event that led up to this was definitely not normal.” By the time he reached the end of his sentence, the duo of gentleman were looking at a large apartment complex.
“Marat?” Rykosar would address, turning to face the bearded man. He waited for eye contact before his features grew soft in attempts to comfort Marat, he still looked shaken by the wild light in his pale green eyes. “I’d like you to go upstairs to room 218.” To make sure he was made clear, the old man gingerly took one of Marat’s hands and traced the shape of the numbers with his palm.
“Do you remember Allison?”
A bit of the homeless man’s cheeriness returned at the name. “Ah, hyes! Yung reportor, hyes?”
“Mhm. She lives there.” The old man rested his metal hand on top of Marat’s for a few seconds before lowering his arm. “I’d like you to tell her I sent you and if you can stay the night there. A strange air is lingering the city and I don’t feel safe taking you back to my cabin just yet.”
“Ah, whill du eld sobako. But, ehm, hyew take care tu, hyes?”
Rykosar would have normally left without another word, but the pleading in Marat’s voice was equivalent to being looked in the eye by a small defenseless child. The old gladiator turned back with a scarred smile. “Of course, Marat.”
The old man didn’t look back after turning to limp home, but he could hear Marat scaling the steps leading to the second floor. He let out a breath he forgot he was holding before quickening his pace. Rykosar eventually carried himself to the thicker parts of the city, office buildings towered high, but not quite so as when he had visited New York on several occasions. Before he could find himself going on a nostalgic tangent, his azure eyes squinted at something large in the sky. Having first assumed it was a passing bird, he shook off the idea when seeing there was no wing movement. It was also getting too big.
It came to him as a screaming thought.
PLANE.
“PLANE!”
He echoed his realization as loud as he could to the passing people in the street, pointing to the sky before his eyes frantically scanned the streets. A small family restaurant was the first building with an open door he spotted. He entered as he looked to see he was being followed in by two suited men and a woman carrying her infant, having left her stroller behind after spotting the plane. One of the younger men motioned the woman back while the second man kicked the chalkboard sign containing specials out of the way to close the door.
Rousing a bit of confusion from the customers, a few people gathered towards the windows, despite Rykosar advisement to stand back. By that point, he craned his neck out just as the plane made contact with the building. The noise was deafening, the high roar of the engines and their further strain as the resistance of concrete walls and glass slowed the plane down. Rykosar could hardly hear the screams from inside the restaurant as literal tons of metal and concrete spilled onto the Toronto streets, the ground shook from the weight dropped and just seconds later, the plane itself dove into the streets from its violent descend. The front of the plane broke a large hole in the underground railway system, also visibly crunching what was the cockpit on its way down.
Crumpled rubble kicked up unearthly amounts of dust, it was like a white chalky sandstorm blowing through the streets. Thinking over it, this made Rykosar thankful for the young man that had closed the restaurant door earlier. The sound of the plane engine could be heard outside, though the full-fledged panic of the civilians inside the restaurant was more clearly heard. Children crying and even full grown adults shouting and screaming in confusion and panic.
Face paled at the realization of the others possibly not as fortunate as them outside, Rykosar limped towards the door. He’d push back anyone that tried to talk some common sense into him. As his hand clasped the door handle, his eyes shot to a middle aged man with a nametag, His uniform was different from the others so Rykosar assumed he was a manager.
“Keep everyone in here until the police arrives.” Rykosar was trying to keep calm as the situation unfolded, but he nearly barked the order at the man to ensure he was heard over the others. When he received a hesitant nod from the equally pale man, the old gladiator pulled open the door and slipped outside, closing it behind him before too much dust got into the building. Given the city wasn’t too compact, the make-shift sandstorm quickly dispersed, allowing Rykosar to see.
Nothing in the chaos caught his attention, except for two rather prepared and uninjured individuals amongst the dozen or two citizens that managed to run from the blast but didn’t have a place to take cover, possibly the dozen more calling out from the crater or crumpled buildings.
There was a silver haired man who had managed to successfully climb out of the crater made in the street, standing straight with a sword in a sheath to his side. Rykosar’s brows furrowed at the idea of someone needed a sword on a subway. Then his eyes snapped to a ‘thunk’ over the roar of oncoming sirens. From the air came…something. It looked to be a robot, it was metal from head to toe but Rykosar observed the movements to be quite human. He hated the idea of putting immediate labels of suspicion, but this hadn’t been a day to throw caution to the way side.
Regardless of what they did, it was already done, and the old gladiator sought to do what he could. Perusing them seemed useless. The old man slowly limped towards the hole carved in the road, careful where he put his metal leg in case he caused more of the street to collapse under him. He leaned forward to scan for people trying to climb out as well, seeing if he could help. He noticed a dark frail hand waving through the dimmed underground and reached for it with palm extended.
“HEY!” A young voice snarled. “You get away from them!”
Rykosar’s hand stopped reaching forward, but did not retract. His head snapped to the silver haired man from before, bearing a dark scowl towards the old gladiator. He had his sword unsheathed from its holder, the gem along the handle beginning to spark orange. The young man was quick and had no intentions on listening to Rykosar before he could speak. The blade suddenly burst into flames as he swung it towards the old man. Rykosar staggered back to avoid the full blow, but not before the blade could catch on his coat, setting the material aflame.
The old gladiator had no intentions of taking his beloved coat off, beginning to pat the flames with his hands to try and prevent the fire from spreading. The distraction was almost exploited by the sword wielder, bringing his blade back to swing at Rykosar a second time. But before the flaming steel could contact the old man, a loud energized pulse echoed even down into the crater. A blue bolt struck the swordsman, causing him to stagger back, barely keeping a grip on his weapon.
Both brawlers turned to the source of the disruption, the robotic human from before was standing outside of reach, its right arm raised with a large gun displayed. A blue glow began to shine from the end of the barrel as its monotonous voice rose to combat the persistent screeching of sirens.
“Demanding: Identify yourselves immediately.”
Rykosar would respond without much hesitation, since his coat was finally put out. “Rykosar.” He kept eye contact with the droid creature before turning to the silver haired man, making sure he didn’t attempt another attack during this. Luckily, the boy was cooperative…mostly.
“Ensiron, but I think it’s better if I ask –you- to identify yourself, as well as ask how the hell you must get off to this stuff.” His arms stretched out exasperatedly, to motion to the buildings, the plane, and the crater.
“Irritation: Both identified as possible threat. Engaging.”
Rykosar’s brows lowered to the young boy, in a break from the panicked manner before, his arm motioned to the android like a disappointed parent. “Now look what you’ve done.”
Ensiron didn’t give the old man a response, leaping forward towards Bl.An.C with flames still licking his blade. The metal clacked against metal, and in response the android quickly recoiled several steps back as it was noted that the heat of the man’s sword ad begun to melt the robotic suit. The impression left on the mark the sword hit exposed a dent in the shoulder piece with drops of metal dripping down the arm, now cooling and solidifying where they sat. The suited android shot up, speaking again.
“Alarm: Primary threat established.”
From Bl.An.C’s undamaged shoulder, a small panel slid out and three small orbs flew from the entry hole, each had a small sensor in the center of their forms. They let out a few snipping sounds before zooming towards Rykosar, who had thought he was safe from the fighting up until this point. The old man groaned as he straightened his back, head turning frantically to keep up with the buzzing drones. For the moment, they just continued to fly around him. Rykosar reached an arm out towards an oncoming one and tilted his weight to bring his metal hand against it, his intent being to slap it away. Upon impact with the sphere, however, the thing burst into a spectacle of metal shards and sparks right in front of him. The old man drew blood from his lower lip as he bit there to fight a shout in pain, feeling metal pieces dig into the muscles of his face and reopening plenty of long made scars.
The old man remained frozen for several seconds before letting out a long groan, “Well…that didn’t go as expected.” Picking the bigger pieces out of his skin with eyes and feet set towards Bl.An.C. The force of the explosion luckily having only left one of the spheres to try, and fail, at distracting him from the others.
Ensiron had turned his head quickly when hearing the explosion by Rykosar, deciding to try his luck on taking out the supposed weaker of the two opponents. Originally intending to hit Bl.An.C, Ensiron quickly whirled back and charged at Rykosar instead. As his steps stole the distance between them, the gem at the hilt of the sword flashed brown with the original orange shade dimming away, stone fragments began to grow from the sword and even a faint darker coat could be seen over Ensiron’s skin.
Bl.An.C appeared to be without a target, but the visor of his helmet tilted in Rykosar’s direction. As Ensiron charged Rykosar, the old man charged towards Bl.An.C. Despite his clunky weight, Rykosar managed to strike first, pulling his arm back and letting out a hard jab at Bl.An.C’s helmet. The force of the punch with his metal hand, which had been peripherally warped by the drone explosion, caused the glass around the helmet to crack. When seeing Ensiron coming from behind, Rykosar attempted to turn his body and punch him as well. Unfortunately, this hit was not well received due to the strange buildup of stone around his skin, the impact was partially absorbed.
“Not so tough now, hm old man?” Ensiron would nag, forced back a few steps but otherwise unscatched.
With Rykosar’s back turned to Bl.An.C, the android hauled back to return the punch given to him right in the back of the head. The old gladiator felt the world grow weightless and near dark from the impact, stumbling forward and luckily not right into Ensiron. The small panel in Bl.An.C’s shoulder had remained open, releasing a final drone to join the last lingering one before the panel slid shut. Both shot towards Ensiron while Rykosar was no longer a problem.
The drones sailed towards Ensiron, causing the swordsman to take up a fighting stance, ready to smack the machines with his stone club of a sword despite seeing what happened when Rykosar tried sometime similar. But, at the last second, Bl.An.C made them slam into the road under him causing both to explode. Ensiron felt his feet fly out from under him and the handle of his blade slipped from his hands as he hit the asphalt, the sword joining him with a few clinks.
As Bl.An.C paced towards Ensiron, the collapsed swordsman quickly kicking his feet up and rolling forward to his knees. His hand grasped his blade once again before the android had a chance to attack. The gem on the sword burned red as it cut through the air and sliced across Bl.An.C’s arm. Molten metal dripping through his padding or down the metal gauntlet, what bits did maneuver through the other layers began to penetrate skin. At that moment the large lurking figure of Rykosar fell behind Ensiron and the swordsman lost his footing with the ground, a hard gripping pressure on his sides. With hands clasping Ensiron’s body tightly, the old man sucked in a mouthful of air before he lifted the boy up and outright slammed him into the ground.
Rykosar gasped hoarsely as an iron fist struck his spine. The force of the punch caused Rykosar to lunge forward, almost falling over Ensiron if it wasn’t for his metal leg planted firmly on the road as an anchor. It appeared no damage was caused to his back as a result of the spine being metal thankfully, excluding some bruising later.
“Condescending: Your lack of agility is noted.” Bl.An.C stated monotonously, having not spotted Ensiron trying to get to his feet.
Rykosar frowned, “Oh? Well so are your lack of manners.”
Ensiron had dragged the blade of his sword against the asphalt, standing from a knee to both feet. The gem on his hilt flickered then shone a bright green before segments of the sword’s blade began to separate, held together by a strange semi-transparent curved line between segments. The tip lashed and whipped like an irate snake as winds suddenly burst from his body as he stood near Bl.An.C and Rykosar. The android had to take several steps back to avoid being perturbed by the winds, but Rykosar’s large metal form allowed him to stand his ground, his coat flapped against his chest in protest.
Moving both hands up to block the wind from blowing debris or dust into his eyes, Rykosar began his slow laborious walk towards Ensiron, attempting to extend his metal hand out for the young man’s throat. In seeing the open hand though, the swordsman wildly lashes out his blade. The segments falling into a curved shape as they pulled against the wind and sliced Rykosar’s outstretched arm. The coat sleeve was torn and the skin had been dug through deeply, drawing blood as it stained the rest of his sleeve and dribbled to the ground. The old man pulled back his hand, tucking it to his chest to try and stem some of the bleeding while Bl.An.C raised his undamaged arm, the iron first retracting before his plasma cannon formed along the top of the gauntlet. A bright blue light near the end of t