Re: World-Valencia

[Sydney Underhill]

"You know..." Sydney mused, turning her head in Quintus' direction, "I wonder if they'll remember me...I may look different, but you know more than anyone...my mindset, it hasn't really changed."

And Quintus did know, he did know exactly what she spoke of.
She had always been one to crave destruction, desolation, some evidence of the power she carried in her hands. He did not know how much of this mindset had been revealed during her time as a member of the Resistance, but what she had said was true: she had not really changed.

[Ulysses Septimus]

Decimus wisely chose to remain silent at that moment: he scanned over the crew of clockworks manning the ship. Mentally, he was already making calculations, battle plans for how they would completely, and utterly decimate Skull Island, even though this was more of his brother Albinus' forte than it was his.

He was the more violent, turbulent one of the Ulyssean Triumvirate. As much as he was intelligent, he also craved blood and the thrill of battle the same way Ulysses or Sydney does, only that he masks it, locks it deep down inside.

It was far too dangerous to let such unstable human emotions out, even for one like him. Who knows what it could do if unleashed?

[Sydney Underhill]

"They've held me back for so...long..."

Sydney's voice became somewhat singsong, and she leaned against the railing of the helm, overlooking the deck.

"I do think that they'll regret that greatly."

[Ulysses Septimus]

"Like a spring, perhaps, Commodore?" Decimus finally spoke up, allowing a small trace of his slightly higher intelligence to show, "the more one presses down on a spring, the higher the spring leaps."

Back on the deck of the Interceptor, Septimus gazed over the railing, fingers tapping on it in a almost impatient fashion. This was one of the most important steps of Kane's grand plan, one they cannot afford to mess up no matter what.

"It's another step toward the perfect Spiral, isn't it, Lord Ulysses?" Septimus spun around, facing his lieutenant Sentus.

"Indeed..." Ulysses turned again, "Sentus... Let me ask you, how do you feel about returning now? To Skull Island I mean."

"..." The pirate-turned-Marine was silent for a moment, then spoke, "I can only say, Lord Ulysses, I cannot believe that I had once been allied with those... bastards, I honestly cannot follow along with my own thinking pattern back then even now."

[Sydney Underhill]

"A perfect analogy, Decimus." Sydney agreed, shaking the stray strands of now-white hair out of her still-stone-like grey eyes. "They will regret ever suppressing such potential...for now it shall backfire upon them."

[Ulysses Septimus]

Unknowingly, seconds had ticked into minutes, and minutes into hours: soon, they had pushed through the stormgates and into the Flotsam skyways, right next to Fort Mackenzie which the Armada had already taken over.

Ulysses made a hand gesture for the four ships to lower their flags, so to not alert any of the pirates when they enter Skull Island skyway. Quietly but surely, the Armada ships made their way into the windlanes that would bring them right up to the wretched pirate haven (just the sight of it almost makes Septimus sick.)

The Armada admiral drew a golden spyglass from the depths of his coat, placing it up to his left eye. From what he could see of it, the whole island was sound asleep.

"Just like the Ophidians of Illios." The Ophidians, once proud and powerful, had thought the eagles would not be so audacious as to step right into their home turf to attack them, so they foolishly allowed in the eagles' gift of the Mouse... Only to be wiped out in their sleeps once the eagles emerged from the depths of the Mouse.

Quietly, but surely, the ships docked, Ulysses and his lieutenant, followed by Quintia and Albinus, stepped off first: Septimus standing on the docks as he waited for Sydney to appear.

[Sydney Underhill]

The Executioner pulled into the Skull Island docks silently, and Sydney, trailed by Decimus and Quintus, stepped off of the ship to meet Ulysses.

"I take it your soldiers are ready? Mine stand awaiting orders, Admiral."

[Ulysses Septimus]

Ulysses nodded, "Yes... and now, shall we unleash hell itself upon those impudent worms?" His voice had changed into a smooth, powerful monotone by the vocalizer attached to the mask; had anyone not known who he really was, he might have been able to pass off as Supreme Commander Kane in this style.

He drew his sword from his belt. It was a strange blend of a broadsword and a fencing rapier- the blade was wider than those of a rapiers, allowing more cutting power, yet it was far too thin still to be a broadsword.

Ulysses waved his sword a little in the air, signalling his warriors to form ranks and start their march into Skull Island...

From his position, Decimus readied his own weapon, snapping the bayonet into its "ready" state, then chambered a round into his rifle.

[Sydney Underhill]

Sydney's troops, consisting of marines and Armada musketeers equipped with dozens of fire charges, silently filed in behind Ulysses, and upon Sydney's signal, the marines surrounded the musketeers to form somewhat of a shield, protecting and yet still allowing them to fire the charges.

"I do believe we shall, Admiral."

[Ulysses Septimus]

The sound of clanking gears and metal announcing their arrival, the clockworks marched swiftly into the island, meeting no resistance until at least they were close to the entrance to Avery's Court. It was only then did pirates wake, arm themselves, and attempt to fight-

The first group of fighters was a mixed group of privateers, swashbucklers, and buccaneers, crashing toward the clockwork soldiers like a wave of angry hornets.

Ulysses bit back the urge to let out a devilish laugh: he simply chose one of the pirates as his next target, then charged. The swashbuckler was caught by both surprise and fear, thanks to his mask, and that alone was enough to cost him his life. It had given Ulysses enough time to lop his head off with one clean strike of his blade...

Decimus stood right by his Commander and Custos Quintus, using his bayonet on any that got too close to him or the other musketeer; stabbing it into either eyes or hearts, any place that would draw large amounts of blood and leave them incapacitated while slowly dying.

[Sydney Underhill]

Without so much as flinching, Sydney pushed forwards through the hoard of bodies swarming around her, cutting them out of her way as if they were no more than branches. The faint screams of realization were distant to her, only drowned out by the synchronized bang of the musketeers' guns as they fired the deadly, explosive charges at the buildings lining the street, sending them up in flames.

[Ulysses Septimus]

Ulysses dodged a strike from an enemy buccaneer, using his grace and agility as a swashbuckler to drive his sword into the pirate's neck, until the tip of the blade showed on the other side. Ruby drops of blood dripped down the weapon, the pirate himself gagging, dropping his own sword to attempt to wrench the blade out.

Fear was clear in his eyes, enough for Septimus to know he thought he was the Supreme Commander, to send a jolt of glee through the psychopathic Admiral. This... this was excellent, far better than he anticipated!

On another corner of the battlefield, Decimus stood his ground next to Quintus, driving his bayonet into guts, flesh, any place that would swiftly and painfully end someone: kicking down a pirate, he fired a round almost point blank into the pirate's skull...

[Sydney Underhill]

"Recognize me...?" Sydney trilled, her voice going unnaturally high as she kicked another pirate down before driving the pole of her poleaxe through his eye and his skull, twisting it several times before yanking it out, the eyeball still impaled on the end and the optic nerve behind it stretching, refusing to snap until she caught it in the heel of her boot and jerked it sideways, causing the musketeer under her to rip his vocal chords raw with screaming, blood spraying out of his mouth.

[Ulysses Septimus]

Decimus, had he possessed human eyes, he would have narrowed them at the audacity of the pirate that dared to challenge him. He quickly pulled the lock of the rifle in his grip, loading yet another round into its chamber: driving the bayonet on his gun into the pirate's chest, Decimus pulled back the trigger-

Blood doused his face, and his chestplate, ruby droplets rolling down the smooth metal and carving a path of its own that painted a picture of eerie beauty.

Crunch.

Decimus winced, noting the blade that protruded out of his side, buried up to the hilt. A throwing knife, no doubt by a swashbuckler of some sort.

The Armada clockwork sniper glanced around, searching the battlefield for the one that had wounded him: sneaking up on Quintus with a pair of daggers in his grip. No... He won't let that happen, his creator had ordered him to.

Split second decision: fire.

He drew the Valencian flintlock gun from his belt and fired at the swashbuckler, managing to catch him on the back of his chest.

The pirate gasped in pain, almost collapsing against Quintus' back...

[Sydney Underhill]

Quintus, having been focused on picking off the several witchdoctors perched on the roofs of the building, had been caught completely off guard as a large mass collapsed against the backs of his legs, sending both him and what looked like a male swashbuckler toppling to the ground.

Almost instantly, the pirate had pushed him down and straddled him, the clockwork's hands around his wrists being the only thing stopping him from driving the wickedly - pointed dagger directly into his throat. Quintus, like all Armada clockworks, had a strong grip, but given that the pirate had gravity and quite literally an upper hand, he would not last long like this.

Moving his torso slightly to the side, Quintus steeled himself and abruptly raised himself into a sitting position, allowing the blade to pierce the upper right region of his chest and causing the swashbuckler to jump in shock, scrambling backwards.

However, although this swashbuckler certainly was fast, he was nowhere near fast enough, for Quintus then kicked him over and snapped the back of his neck with one stomp before he could move more than ten feet away.

[Ulysses Septimus]

Ulysses, meanwhile, literally swept through the whole battlefield: cutting, stabbing, slashing, with all the blades he was equipped with, sinking into flesh the way a hungry predator's fangs would.

Bodies piled around his feet, forming a kind of sickly wall that made many consider twice about fighting him, just like how Decimus' rifle took enough lives for even the sturdiest buccaneer to consider again-

Decimus noted the damage Quintus had sustained, his cognitive processor immediately snapped into high alert. He quickly moved through the battlefield until he was about 20 feet away from him.

Not far enough to let someone past him, yet not close to be of any impedance.

Quickly bashing the end of his rifle into the head of a pirate, Decimus brutally drove the bayonet on his weapon into her throat until the blade showed on the other side.

[Sydney Underhill]

Swinging her axe far over her left shoulder, Sydney twisted her torso and spun to the right, causing the blade to spin in the other direction with all the speed and force of a battering ram, effectively knocking an oncoming buccaneer's head off with the sheer force of the impact alone. Ulysses was now next to her, mowing down the unorganized humans around them just as quickly.

"How much of an impact have we made in their forces?"

[Ulysses Septimus]

"From what I've seen-" Ulysses cut himself short for a second to stab a pirate in the gut with his sword, finishing him with one shot of his Valencian flintlock. "We have destroyed at least half of those fools by now: but I fear we still haven't met the elites yet."

He used his sword to swat a throwing knife away that would have otherwise pierced his chest: the blade instead slashed through the sleeve of his left upper arm with a tear of fabric. Ulysses barely winced, though it was still enough to temporary distract him for a pirate swashbuckler to latch onto him, keen on burying at least one dagger into his chest.

Septimus' eyes narrowed behind the protection of his mask. Other times, he might have felt a sense of respect for a foe with such audacity... If it wasn't for the fact he was a pirate!

Shing.

His Hidden Blade extended from the bracer attached to his left arm. The Blade sunk into flesh with little difficulty, the flesh being the pirate's throat.

[Sydney Underhill]

The sound of a gun cocking was then audible, and Sydney realized that there was, most certainly, a musketeer behind them - very close to them, or armed with a very powerful weapon.

Grabbing onto the shoulders of the now-deceased swashbuckler, she dislodged the corpse from Ulysses' blade and, using him as a sort of human shield, spun around just in time so that the massive electric charge from the almost cannon - like gun was catapulted onto the back of the swashbuckler, the body of which was then pushed back into a nearby privateer, causing the red - haired girl to shriek in pain as she was brutally electrified.

"The human body is such a wonderful conductor for electric power..."

[Ulysses Septimus]

"I must agree with you, Commodore." Ulysses bit back an urge to throw his head back and cackle in devilish glee, climbing back onto his feet. "They also make quite nice for fireworks too: do allow me to show you." Sheathing his blades with a flourish, the Armada Admiral yanked a sticky grenade from his belt and grabbed the nearest pirate he could reach.

Septimus was surprisingly strong for a swashbuckler and a man as thin as he: with next to no effort, he drew the heavily clad privateer to him, holding him to his chest with one arm as he flicked the activation switch on the grenade and attached it to the privateer's midsection.

With a powerful kick into the centre of the man's back, Ulysses sent him tumbling toward a clump of pirates trying to protect a witchdoctor...

A flash of light and a powerful, shattering heat wave, pirates screamed as their bodies were blown apart. Blood, guts, and flesh flew into the air, spattering in the sand and painting the walls of what building that were still standing there...

Decimus felt a gear in his knee creak as he was forced down to a half kneeling position by two pirate buccaneers. Mauris, this is not looking good at all! If only he could free his hands...

[Sydney Underhill]

Sydney threw back her head and laughed ecstatically, a hand flying up to her hat to prevent it from falling as she forced herself to regain control over her breath, difficult as it was, especially given the beautifully bizarre spectacle that she had just had the pleasure of witnessing.

"I find that you are quite right, Admiral."

On the other hand, Quintus, now noticing the absence of the nearby sounds of the readying and firing of the Armada rifle that had been so close to him moments ago, turned only to see Decimus being almost overpowered by two immensely strong male pirates.

Sprinting towards him, Quintus analyzed as he ran.

They were buccaneers, judging by their strength, and they had the willpower and abilities of enraged bulls, often using their own bodies as battering rams of sorts, the sheer force from their beings channeling into their (usually blunt) weapons.

However, their major weakness was speed - something Quintus had plenty of.

Drawing the standard - issue dagger from his belt, the clockwork musketeer struck, slicing the neck of the buccaneer to Decimus' right before being forced to dodge the oncoming blow of the second one, for he had quickly noticed the death of his comrade.

[Ulysses Septimus]

Ulysses allowed a low, rumbling laugh to escape his lips, muffled by the mask he wore to a point it sounded more like a clockwork laughing. "Then you would like this even more!" He yanked another bomb from his belt, a shrapnel bomb, small but dangerous and effective: transferring his sword into his right hand, he flicked the activation switch, pulled back his arm, and threw it into a clump of pirates around a single witchdoctor.

Screams echoed through the air, mixing in with the many others as the shrapnels embedded itself into flesh and throats and bodies. Blood dripped from wounds as pirates scrambled to clench at the bleeding wound or to wrench the razor sharp pieces of metal out of their flesh...

Decimus took the chance: he jumped up to his feet and twisted his body sharply to the right of the buccaneer. He drived the bayonet on his rifle into the male pirate's throat, until it emerged from the other side, wrenching it back the next moment.

He offered the other musketeer a thankful and acknowledging nod, then quickly joined back into the hectic battle.

[Sydney Underhill]

"I'm honestly quite excited to meet these 'elites,'", Sydney said, twirling with an ironic amount of grace while she extended her poleaxe in front of her, knocking any of the pirates who so happened to be within an eight - foot radius of her over, their skulls crushed from the impact. "If they're what they seem, it'll be an interesting encounter."

Quintus, now turning back to the battle at hand, loaded a fire charge into his rifle, at first aiming for a particularly large building, but upon being confronted by yet another swashbuckler, he had chosen to drive his bayonet into the pirates abdomen and fire, the flammable substances sending the entirety of the pirate's frame up in flames.

As human instinct commanded him to, the swashbuckler, screaming in unspeakable agony, desperately ran for a crowd of his comrades in a search for aid.

Of course, he found none - and the fire caught quickly to the garments of the surrounding pirates, condemning them to a similar fate as their dagger - wielding ally.

[Ulysses Septimus]

"Oh? Then it seems you will get your wish soon, Commodore." Ulysses pointed to a distant corner of the battlefield: there, Mordecai the buccaneer trainer was currently facing off Septimus' lieutenant Sentus Optimus-

Sentus parried one of the massive hammerhead's strikes with his shield, thrusting his arm holding his halberd outward at the same time. His strike managed to catch the shark right in his stomach, only to have the halberd knocked out of his grip right after.

Meanwhile, on their side of the battlefield, Decimus dispatched another group of pirates with brutal efficency: blowing the head off of one, then lighting five others with fire charges, the site of their blood and pain driving his system into what humans would have called cruel satisfaction and/or euphoria.

He wanted to laugh, throw off his facade as a emotionless officer and just laugh in enjoyment at the sight of the suffering of the enemies of the Armada... But not now, not when he has a duty!

[Sydney Underhill]

Sydney's eyes narrowed at the sight of the shark trainer, for he, like the rest of them, had held her back, restrained her talents during her temporary stay on the Island.

There was no thought that made her angrier, really, the knowledge that she had been suppressed for so long and to such an extreme magnitude.

Noticing that Mordecai had managed to knock away the marine officer's halberd, Sydney immediately bounded over, bringing the omega - shaped blade of her poleaxe up and over her head before swinging it down onto the skull of the shark.

Unfortunately, she did not quite strike the fatal blow she was hoping for.

Being a shark, Mordecai's skull was protected by a thick layer of rubber - like skin and cartilage, which only served to cause her blade to become wedged in his head. She barely managed to yank it out in time as he turned around and swung a fist at her, which she only just dodged.

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