Location: Division 5, Hightop
Division Years since the Arrival: 1447
It only took one clean swipe for the woman to chop off the beast’s head with a contorted ice claw. She’s done this plenty of times, for her entire life has been dedicated to protecting those from the monsters of Divon. Her body does a twirl, the shards of ice flinging off from the dermis of her arm as her worn boots stomp to the ground from her fall. The Chimera’s neck spews out visceral, crimson spilling and wetting the ground as the headless creature’s body thumps over. The huntress, known as Winter, recovers herself and stands up tall with a wide grin on her face.
“So…How clean of a cut was that, Neil?”
A hand goes to curl itself nonchalantly on the woman’s hip, her expression filled with the utmost confidence. Winter took great pride in her abilities as a huntress, making it a mission to try and show off to her big brother Neil on various occasions.
“Sometimes I envy how clean of a cut you can make, Winter.”
Neil’s arms are crossed as he watches his sister lean over, her digits grasping at the creature’s head and carrying it in her arms. The thing had to be just as big as her torso, having purple feathers extruding out from underneath the bone-like armor, adorned on its face to give it even more length. Crimson drips slowly, almost as if it tried to coagulate, but failed now that there was lack of life. Winter walks over to the fellow hunter dressed in black and green, her smile unwavering.
“Wanna see how clean it is?” Winter flaunts the decapitated head, trying to see if she can make any of her big brother’s nerves shiver.
She always liked teasing him, just like any little sister would. As she expects, Neil reacts with an annoyed expression, almost like disappointment. The man sighs audibly, uncrossing his arms and takes a small step towards the female huntress.
“...And then I remember how much you like to flaunt it around…”
“Let’s just hurry and get this back to Haunch,” Winter ushers at the male, taking a pivot of her feet and heading west.
“I also remembered how much your stomach is constantly hungry.” Neil is jabbing at her.
“Well, since I’m a strong kind of gal, maybe I just need the right nourishment. I’m honestly craving meat. Maybe we could take a few slices off the Chimera we just killed…”
The huntress feels her mouth begin to ooze with saliva, wanting at least a fresh piece of food. She’s so tired of eating food rations, the ones that can still be eaten even if they’re as hard as stone. No matter how freshly made they were or how long they lasted, to Winter, they tasted disgusting.
“I’ll pass. Let’s just turn that head in and get some gems for an actual hot meal. It’s been awhile since we’ve had one of those, and I am certainly due for it.” Neil stretches his arms, adjusting his belt and machete. His heavy armor-plated boots stomp into crunchy leaves, skipping over a root or two of the immaculate trees above them.
“Yeah, yeah…I’m guessing I’m carrying this big fat head?” Winter nearly groans, also hopping over a few roots herself. She can hear her Treetop companion chuckle, almost as if it's payback for how she decided to flaunt the decapitated head in front of him earlier. They weren’t too far out from the capital and had no heavy duty loads expected of their contract, which meant the Featherdusters could have saddles.
“Yeah. Don’t worry, we actually have packs on the Dusters where you can just clip it. Trot is the one who gets most of the workload today.” Neil feels himself grin widely.
It doesn’t take them long for them to reach their mounts, specifically trained for hunters like themselves. Neil swings himself on top of his mount’s back, which he referred to as Heist. His hands give a scratch behind the creature’s long ears, making a cooing sound to his noble steed. “I missed you, Heist. Were you a good girl?”
“You pamper her so much.” Winter’s eyes gleam at her male mount, using a free hand to scratch under his scaly chin and make cooing noises herself. She takes a sack from the pack on her mount’s back, placing the Chimera head in and attaching it. “It’s ok, Trot. You’re the best boy. That’s why you and I get to haul this around today.”
With that, both hunters are riding on their respective mounts, hands gripping to the brown reigns wrapped around the creature’s head. Neil takes the lead, Winter following behind as she feels Trot jump over roots within the dense forest. His blue slit eyes paying close attention to every branch or twig that might prove in the way of his speed. The fur of Trot’s ears adjust, blowing with the wind’s direction, or whichever way the creature pushes through. Winter gives a firm kick, telling him to pick up the pace as they approach the closest settlement to their location: Hightop Capital.
The two pass through the gates, showing off their Hunter’s rite of passage as they enter the city. It’s as busy as ever, hundreds if not thousands of people bustling around, making purchases, yelling about sales, out on a stroll for the day.
It was always peaceful in the Capital, a safe haven for the many Treetops who lived in Hightop–the prime and heart of the Treetop tribe. This was Neil’s home, as well as Winter’s. This was as close as she’d ever get to having a place to call home.
Even if it would never really be her home.
Location: Origin, CEO Office of SERAPHIC Inc.
Origin years since the Arrival: 3
He’s here.
The real boss’s office, Atlas himself.
The scientist knows he’s in for a potential lecture, considering his progress has been slow on developing a cure for Cosmos Plague. Atlas won’t approve, but Arch Extent isn’t here to try and gain his full approval, just some at least. He’s had arguments with this man before, nothing new of course. Arch Extent turns his head to the left, placing his fingerprint on the scanner to allow the metallic door in front of him to slide open. His gray eyes skimmed at the flickering holoscreen one last time, noticing that he managed to enter at his only availability time of the day. With one last deep inhale, the scientist in the cowboy-looking hat takes a stroll into the office, composing himself to face the intimidation of Atlas.
“My patience is wearing thin, Arch Extent.” Atlas greets him simply with those words. He didn’t even need to look at who walked in, the CEO knew instinctively he’d come crawling back to his office. His white CEO chair swivels, the lights of the windows from city signs and other flashing lights echo into the room. A leg of his crosses onto the other, digits reaching for the hot cup of coffee in front of him. Arch Extent would occasionally make note of the man’s mug addiction, always increasing his collection.
“I’m sorry, Atlas. I’ll figure it out.” Arch Extent apologizes, arms crossed behind him like a little obedient dog.
He wants to gulp within the presence of this man, but refuses to do so to the head honcho of Seraphic Inc. Still, he didn’t like when Atlas scolded him–sometimes it even felt like he was being scolded like a child. Arch Extent is no child.
“I don’t care how inhuman or unethical you need to be to get it done. We’re losing time,” Atlas remarks.
“Give me the resources. Give me the equipment. The funds, I’ll find it. Or–” Extent is cut off.
“--Or what?” Atlas leans over his desk, giving a cold look at one of his most trusted employees. The CEO has a wide smirk, forceful and with a presence capable of making a man shake.
“There has to be more that can have mutation forced. He can’t be the only one who was almost successful,” Extent pipes back. The scientist is determined to find a cure, to put an end to the Cosmos Plague once and for all. It would be to end the nightmare that was killing planet Earth and preventing them from promptly migrating to Division 5, their only chance for another home. Atlas stares at the scientist, relaxing back into his comfy leather chair.
“Fine. By now, there may be another. Do not disappoint me.” Atlas knows this has to do with their previous discussion ever since he escaped.
“I won’t.”
He has to prepare for yet another visit to the one place he believes he’ll find his cure: Division 5.
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