So, @conduiitz and their awesome Glass Conduit inspired this for me, and I decided to share my two OCs for both Infamous 1 and Second Son
Iris Geller ( with the piercings & blue eyeshadow ) is for Infamous 1 and she is a chlorokinetic conduit, while the other OC is named Selah Ambroise who is a light conduit!
I figured since now the Misfits are out of hiding, I can start making artwork for them and I'll keep with the theme of mock Comic book covers since I like the way they look.
So here we have the Blast Shard Caper, Kestrel. Leaping out of the fire and ready to turn someone into a pancake!
Hey guys! I don't know if this came sooner than the last chapter or not, but who cares! I'm writing and I'm having fun! Hopefully it isn't too short and it's fun read for you guys as it was for me to write!
Bonus points if you listen to some Skyrim OST stuff while reading, hehehehe.
Without delay, here's Chapter 13!
-----
I leap off of the wire and glide gently down, landing smoothly with a roll. A grin plastered ear to ear. I arrived at Kestrel's workshop and to my surprise, found it empty. I frown at this sight, did she close up shop? I walk over to one of the windows and can't help but to scoff at the closed sign.
“Figures…” I mutter to myself. The bird must have closed up shop so she could focus on the project that has her so worked up, she’s been acting like an idiot. Though with seeing the Warped and what they can do, I’m starting to cut the girl a little more slack. If this project’s connected to dealing with those fuckers? Well, the idiototic behavior could be excused… Not by much though.
Not like a sign's gonna stop me from coming in. I wanted to see what’s so special about the girl and her guns, what does she do to make it so that Conduits can channel their powers through these firearms. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t mind having a spectator around to watch her work, right? After all, I am going to be one of her clients. Gotta make sure her craftsmanship is up to scratch!
…And to make sure I know what her work quality is, I don’t want her screwing me over.
I jiggle the doorknob on the door to find that it’s locked. I give a small “Tch” before breaking the door itself. I’m nearly knocked back off of my feet at the massive wave of pure RFE that slammed into me. My mouth instantly waters and my stomach gnaws. What in the absolute hell is going on in there that’s producing so much energy?? God, it’s like I was back in the mines!
Whatever it was… I wanted it.
I charge into the back, following the energy’s call. My teeth are itching as I get closer, knocking over displays and signs as I barrel through the workshop proper to see what kind of goodies the bird is hiding from me. I charge through the forge doors, ready to take my prize.
What greets my ears isn’t the rock music that I remember Kestrel playing from my first time around, but something else, something sounding ancient and primal. Deep drums that reverberate through the chest. However, the thing that truly grabs my attention is the woman standing in front of the forge… And what is coming from her back. Long, shining appendages growing from the ghastly scar, glimmering like blued metal in the light of the forge.
My eyes trail from the metallic snakes to the object in front of her, a crucible of hot metal that glows with the signature color of Rayacite. Moving slowly and deliberately, Kestrel pulls out a single Blast Shard from her backpack before carefully lowering it into the glowing pool.
As the shard melts, I watch the tendrils sway. Sometimes one of them would move to remove the skin of waste and slag from the top of the pool and absorb it. Now Kestrel’s powers made sense. She’s a Slag Conduit, but that hardly matters as I continue to watch in awe at the scene playing out.
It’s like something from a fantasy novel.
The process repeats, slag forms on the top of the pool, the tentacles remove it. The more this process happens, the stronger the energy’s strength grows. She is refining the metal, purifying it. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible and it made me wonder how much power could be absorbed from purified Rayacite sources.
It isn’t long until no more slag could be harvested from the metal. With the impurities gone, Kestrel nods before taking the clamps and grabbing the vessel. She walks over to a spherical mold that is on stand-by before pouring the molten Blast Shards inside, taking care not to spill a single drop of liquid power.
With the mold filled, the bird takes it over to a cooling trough and quickly submerges it. The water hisses and spits as steam erupts from the contact, but Kestrel seems unfazed by it.
“Take it.” I feel my vices whisper. “She’s completely clueless and those metal tentacles are a one way ticket to her spinal cord. Hell, I bet if you grabbed onto one of them, you could drain her without hassle. Drain her, get rid of her and take the super-core for yourself. Imagine all that pure energy. It’d be like taking candy from a baby.” The impulses make my lips salivate, the hunger for power roiling like the water in the trough. Yet, in this moment my mind’s too fixated by the strange sight before me. I want to see what happens next and I won’t know that if I act on my impulses now.
Killing her for that core? It would be a waste. If this is what she can do with Blast Shards… I can only imagine what she could do with a Blast Core, that thought made my mouth water even more. A purified Blast Core? That would be a prize worth taking. She’s becoming more useful to me alive then dead, even with her being an absolute thorn in my side.
Besides… She still owes me a shotgun. A deal’s a deal after all.
The water’s rage settles and the metal cools solid. The Gunsmith pulls out the mold and frees the spherical core, still glowing with power. With the ball cradled in shining threads, the missile launcher shell is grabbed and pulled towards her. Hands open the chamber made to house the newly formed power-source and tendrils rush inside, the shimmering snakes seeming to be hellbound to fill any gap it could find while the core is being lowered down. The snakes break off and fuse themselves to the gun and the core, pulling it inside. The energy of the power source changes from radiating to focused, like the once writhing slag snakes became the wiring that would channel the core’s energy and by extension, a Conduit’s power. With the source set and merged into the shell, Kestrel closes the compartment and seals it shut.
With the weapon completed. She looks it over, tendrils swarming over it and feeling for any defects or any other kinks that could hinder its functioning. Looking at how thorough she is, I can see why she got her title.
I step closer and begin to speak, but the sound startles the girl. She screams out in panic as her tendrils thrash around before retracting back into her body. The sudden hit from the event causes her to yelp in pain. She turns her head and looks me dead in the eyes before growling at me. I put up my hands.
“Woah there-” Is all I could get out before the bird snarls.
“What in the actual FUCK, MacGrath?! Didn’t you read the fu-” Her rage is cut short by a loud revving buzz that rose into a deafening mechanical wail. No doubt about what it is, the tell-tale scream of a tornado siren. I’m about to ask what was going on, but one look at Kestrel’s face and I knew. I have never seen someone lose the color in their face so quickly before, it makes the way her face drained when she learned I was the Beast look slow.
“They’re coming…” I could barely hear Kestrel over the distorted wailing of the siren. Fear, pure fear. I would be lying if I said that the emotion isn’t spreading. I can feel the terror gripping my chest like a vice, remembering the horde of Warped that came after me in the mine. This must be the “they” she’s talking about.
There was no time for questions as the girl leaps out of the window with gun in tow. Her panicked voice howling “They’re coming” over and over again as she charges though the blaring streets. I’m not far behind as I chase after her. She’s most likely rushing to meet up with the others. Fear starts to mix with adrenaline as I think of what might come. This time it might actually be a fun fight with more allies around. Who knows.
All I know is that it’s about time to see if the Warped are as dangerous out in the open as everyone is saying they are.
Hey guys! Coming in with a new chapter! Something a little slower to cool down from that fight and to see what happens with the Demon of Empire City after everything.
I hope you guys like it! Let's jump in!
--------
I can hear it from where I sit, on the ledge of the tallest building in Droptown. The place is alive with celebration and with good reason. With that… Whatever it was, dead, the town can now go about their lives without worry or fear. I thought I saw a few people go out to scavenge the body for whatever could be useful, wouldn’t be surprised if the head was lopped off to be used as a trophy or something. Either way, the city is full of festivities and it seems like everyone is attending.
Well… Everyone except me.
Normally the thought of a party would be exciting, a chance to show off, get free food and drink and cause hell, but right now, the thought of being around a gaggle of drunken hooligans made me seeth. So for the sake of my own sanity and the safety of others, I’m here. Silently thankful that I’m not in my old group anymore, as I know that as soon as I headed off, somebody would be screeching my name by now.
I look down at the town and sigh, so many thoughts whirling around my head. A cacophony raging. From the destruction of my Amp to the bastard monster that broke it. It was all so much… So… Overwhelming. I couldn’t think straight right now. I needed the quiet.
As I gaze down at the streets, I notice Mako wandering around. I could guess that maybe she’s looking for me. Being someone who used to run with me, she knew what it meant when I disappeared and she’d go looking for me, not to pester me, but give me company and a listening ear. I see her spot me and climb up to join me, sitting next to me.
We sit in silence for a long while. I don’t mind it. The silence is comforting and familiar and the company is very much welcomed. I pull out one of the coils that was the tip of my Amp and I try to fix it. Maybe if I can fix one piece, there’s hope for the rest. I tinker and fuss as Mako watches me. The silence continues until she breaks it.
“Hey…” She greets, I grunt with a half-hearted “Hey” in return as I am more focused on the item in my hands. There’s another pause that hangs in the air before she finds her voice again.
“Penny for your thoughts?” She asks, I let out another grunt in response.
“I’m fine, Mako.” I lie, trying to shrug it off. “Just didn’t feel like partying is all.” I try to put on my best poker face, but by the look on Mako’s face, she isn’t convinced.
Though there is one thing I am thankful for, she knows how I am. Trying to pull things out of me is a one way ticket to getting decked. When I don’t want to talk, I don’t, not until I’m damn good and ready to. I’m doubly thankful that she has the patience to wait as well, wait and stay quiet until I eventually fill her in.
My hands fret and fiddle as I try to fix the smaller piece. Damnit… My eyebrows furrow as I try to fit the pieces together, but with no such luck. The more I struggle, the more frustrated I become.
“Hey man. You went college prep, I took shop classes. So uh, who's the dummy now?” I can hear Zeke’s playful comment ring in my mind as I keep trying to at least fix one of the coils. What once was a joking tease between brothers now a dagger to my heart. Hot tears prick the corners of my eyes until I just… Stopped. It’s no use… Zeke was always the tinkerer. Always building and experimenting. He was the only one who could fix it… And he’s gone.
I sigh as I use the palm of my hand to rub my eyes, no use hiding it. Especially from Mako, who’s pretty much the closest thing I have to an honest to god friend out here.
“It’s my Amp…” I start off slowly, trying to keep my voice in check. “I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out how I’m going to fix it, but… I just… Can’t.” I admit, my shoulders slump as Mako tilts her head towards me to listen. “And I’m worried that it’s too far gone and she can’t be saved.”
“Have you tried asking Kestrel?” Mako asks after a long pause, I look at her like she’s lost her mind.
“Mako, have you forgotten?” I grumble, bitterness lacing my voice. “To say me and her have bad blood between us is an understatement. You know this. I’ve told you this and I’m sure you’ve heard it from the bird too. Not to mention, after what happened back at the mine? How can I trust her to do right by me? For all I know she could melt down the pieces and use them for something else.” The mere thought of the girl doing just that made crimson sparks arc off of my arms. It would be the last thing she would ever do if that came to pass.
“Then there’s her reaction to Dove. She is right, we already have a deal. It’s for a firearm, not for repairs, and with how she lashed out, I doubt she’ll be willing to negotiate.”
When I look to see Mako’s expression, there was a bit of hurt in her eyes as well as a bit of anger, but I didn’t blame her for getting aggravated. She and Kestrel were thick as thieves… Just like Zeke and I were… I remember I always became pissed off when someone would talk trash about him and he did the same. God, life must be feeling extra cruel to me as of late.
“Look…” Mako sighs softly. “I haven’t forgotten and I’ll be the first to admit that when it comes to words and emotions, she’s a complete and utter dumbass. Lets her feelings run wild and crash into things, she’s also very, very abrasive at times too… But Kestrel is far from being heartless.” She pops her knuckles as she looks off into the distance before continuing on.
“Kes wasn’t upset at the notion of repairing your weapon, she was upset that Dove just volunteered her out of nowhere. Kinda like what Kuo used to do with you, remember?” I can’t help but to groan and roll my eyes at Mako’s reminder. God, that ice-harpy was always pulling shit like that. If she wasn’t volunteering me, she was telling people to come ask me to do things they could do on their own… And if it wasn’t that, Kuo would be bitching at me for not doing something or other, barking orders at me when I could be in the middle of doing something as simple as trying to take a piss break.
“And the ice bitch wondered why I was always in a bad mood.” I thought to myself.
“Did you really have to bring her up?” I question before sighing. “Yeah… I remember, and you’re right. It’s the same situation. Someone offering up someone else’s services just because they know them and what they can do…. Guess I really can’t fault her for her reaction, can I?” I look over to her as she nods at me. “Especially when it is something I’ve done myself, wouldn’t expect any less than what I would expect for myself.”
I see Mako’s hand reaching out, I nod my head to give her the okay. She carefully lays her hand on my shoulder.
“I know you don’t trust her, Cole, but I can assure you that if you went to Kestrel with the Amp, she’d repair it as if it were the most precious of heirlooms. Even with the bad blood.” She hums softly. “I know her well and when it comes to items of great importance and meaning, she will do you no wrong.”
I watch the Shark as she stands and stretches before I look down at the broken coil to think. There’s just so much to think about, so much to process, so many emotions to sort through. It’s moments like this where I need to head off on my own to be with my thoughts. Thankfully it seems Mako’s about to take her leave, probably to get the triage set up for her teammates after they come stumbling back, drunk off their asses. She begins to walk off, before stopping and turning her head to look at me.
“You don’t have to make a choice right now, just think on it.” With those parting words, she jumps off of the building to head off. I turn my head to look at the coil again, sighing softly and fighting back tears. I pocket the broken part into my sling before standing up and walking towards a wire.
i spent my last year finalising it. it had to be perfect. single use.
every fiber of my being twisted away from it, nausea stuck as i worked. a genetic aversion.
—
—
more old childe art! i was really proud of this one last year, so many mistakes but so many learning opportunities. that’s life i guess. what they doing with that funky box gun???
