Neverwhere: Play Thread

[Kayay]

((OOC: If you’re not on The List don’t post or you risk being eaten by a giant albino alligator.))


Wrinkling her nose at the puddles of stagnant water, China tread softly through the tunnels, her polished black shoes clicking lightly on the cracked cement. Beady eyes shone out from dark corners, watching the odd pair in their passage, one small, delicate little girl in ruffled lace and one hulking man, dim light gleaming off the metal of his arm.

“Where is it held this time?” the man asked in a hushed voice, as if afraid to speak into a silence punctuated only by the soft scrapping of rats scurrying about and steady drip of water somewhere as if from a broken gutter.

“Saint Paul’s,” came the answer in a voice like silvery bells.

Meeting at least once a week, the Floating Market was the place to find goods of all size, shape, form, and nature. Night was just creeping over the city above, and already the Builders had set up the necessary temporary reservoirs of Essence that would allow denizens normally unable to exist Above to attend. No one knew who or what organized this gathering, one of the great mysteries of the Underside, but word of mouth reported it was to be held amid the famous whispering gallery of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Word had also been spread by that same curious system of communication that “interviews” would be held by the newly formed Alliance of Lords, a grand sounding name for what was essentially a hastily and uneasy peace between several Underworld rulers. Bravos, Artificers, Traders, Seekers, Sages, Priests, and Builders were all welcome, and rumor was that the pay, material or otherwise, would be generous.

The main obstacle in reaching the Market, however, was Knightsbridge Below. Seeming to span both space and time, the all encompassing darkness that hung over the bridge claimed it’s share of victims. A clever few Seekers who knew the paths could circumvent the dangerous bridge, but most upon trying an alternate route would find their destination mysteriously vanished or otherwise inaccessible. The laws of reality worked in mysterious ways Below.

“We’ll have to cross the bridge,” he reminded her solemnly.

“Yes.”

“Will you be alright?”

A pause. The sound of footsteps stopped as she looked up at him, blue eyes bright and thoughtful and as old as the city itself…perhaps older. “Yes.”

“Will we find what we need?”

She smiled up at him, golden curls framing her face. “You’re the clairvoyant, Cal. Why ask me?”

“Y-you know why.” She always made him nervous when she fixed him with ‘that look’, and Cal pushed his tinted glasses further up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “But will it be enough? I mean, the Tinman said…”

“You should know better to listen to him by now.” She took his human hand in hers, small and pale, and they two continued through the tunnels with quick steps. They had a ways yet to go.


((OOC: And let it begin. For whatever reasons gradually head for the Market. Only Seekers and those accompanying them can avoid the bridge if they know the way – a secret doorway, train station, poster, etc. – while others must cross the Night’s Bridge, but remember there is safety in numbers, and the experienced know this. For more detailed information on Knightsbridge, the Floating Market, and St. Paul's go to the wfsection of the webpage or AB Information Thread))

[Vandread]

It was like a dream, light passing through so many different colors. So much warmth and light, yet I could find no comfort in it all. Suddenly, the light vanished and I was stranded in cold darkness. Away from the hussle of normal life, away from the warm touch of another like myself. I couldn't get up in the face of that pitch black unknown, yet I had to garner a chance at renewal. Who am I? What am I doing here? Isn't that a question that all people ask themselves? I suppose I'm no different...for I simply slipped through the cracks and into a pit of unknown wonders.

'He' awoke in a dark place. His blue eyes fluttered open as he struggled to stand. The air smelled old, at least, that was the best way he could describe it. Finally standing under his own power, Duran took a step forword. Suddenly, his head rocked with pain and he grabbed his forehead. It was then that he noticed the strange headband he was wearing. He grazed it with his fingers and they stopped on the lone feather that hung from the right side.

" Where am I?" was all he could mutter. In fact, he couldn't remember anything. All he had was his name, but even that felt as though it weren't his. Duran continued to walk down, what appeared to be a subway of sorts. It was then that he noticed another being was there as well. The man wore rags for cloths and his posture seemed a bit hunched as he rummaged through the small nooks in the tunnel. He approached carefully, as to not startle the man.

" H-hello. Do you know which way I should go?" Duran asked. The man looked at him calmly and pointed down further into the darkness. Duran nodded lightly and slowly made his way down...

I don't know why, but the darkness seemed...comfortable. I have faint memories of a great fear of the unknown. Perhaps it's better that I don't know where I came from. A new start? I guess that's a postive way of looking at it.

[Magicfangirl]

The constant walking stared to take affect for the worst, the young mans legs started to feel strained and his common sense was screaming at him to rest.

Eyes blue like sapphires darkened with determination...and also strain. "Three days..." He whispered. "I have walked three days and still haven't got anywhere."

Not that he had anywhere important to go, Gustav knew that was an unreachable dream. But he had overheard (things that resembled) people talking about some 'Floating Market' with excited tones, it made him curious.

Gustav had woken up in this dark dreary place three days ago and had walked nonstop sense. The blond man wondered how he had gotten to this unknown place but it was more important now that he found a place to rest or something to eat.

"I hope there will be some job for me at this 'Market' place. I'm tired of stealing food..."

His black briefcase at his side and that determined look in his eye, Gustav continued on his journey for the Floating Market.

[Kayay]

((OOC: BTW you don't ahve to get to the Market right away. It's just a destination...a short term goal.))


A clicking, clicking, hissing sound echoed down the brick passage. Two small, round, lights no bigger than a two-pence flickered on. The yellow beams slid over a tumble of brick, splintered, rotting wood, and dark mud heaped in a corner before stopping upon a small length of copper tubing. With a mechanical whirr that sounded a lot like a happy cry of discovery, a small metal figure about a 7 inches tall crept out from its hiding place. Upon thin artificial limbs it ran with surprising speed across the open space, metallic footfalls striking the cracked concrete floor with rhythmic little clunks. The grinding of internal gears mimicked a grunt as he tiny human shaped thing tugged at the tubing before its grip slipped and it tumbled backwards in a loud clatter. Shaking it’s long oblong head as if dazed, it waved at the shadows from whence it came, and two more small tinmen ran out to help it in its task, but immediately they began to argue in dissident beeps, whirrs, and clicks about who was in charge.

The debate immediately stopped when another sound bounced off the damp walls towards them. Footsteps. Two of the little metal men dashed for the safety of the shadows while the third, who was the one who’d first ventured out, jumped up and down, pointing frantically back at the junk pile and upset that they’d abandon their find so quickly. His comrades, who were much more sensible, ran back out, picked him up, and carried their protesting friend off above their heads.

[Chesta chesta chesta]

Fleet Street, the home of printed media, was as busy as always. Pedestrians rubbed shoulders as they all tried to catch that ‘essential’ ride home. The air was thick with the fumes from Black Cabs and Double Deckers, and the distinctive sounds of a thousand shoes clicking against the pavement.

Unknown to them all an entirely different scene was taking place beneath the pavement, in the damp ridden under-belly of London.

“Rule, Britannia, Britannia rule the waves, Britons never will be slaves!”

This particular section was solely done in red brick. Once upon a time the dirty water would rise fairly high, but with the instalment of the new sections it never rose to above knee height and there was a clear path running along the side.

An out of tune melody drifted down the dark catacombs. It bounced off the walls, picking up further echoes as it travelled along. A humming replaced words that had long since been forgotten.

Amongst the darkness shone one single light. A lone character walked the narrow path, with bounce in his steps and one hand running along the old grout. A small lantern, made from an old baked bean tin, hung from the curve of an umbrella over his shoulder. Distorted shadows surrounded him; they danced across the walls as the light flickered.

He was Colin Dumfries and he was, also, in a splendid mood. Most of the afternoon had mostly been spent in one of the side rooms. He had encountered it earlier that week and taken notice of the tell tale signs of decay. Today he had been busy with replacing grout amongst some of the worse for wear tiles.

To say the least, today had been very productive. Now he was ready to sit down, have a cup of tea and perhaps even scrub the remaining grout of his hands. Maybe Stilton would show up.

Something dropped into the foul water and sent ripples along the still surface. He stopped, looked over his shoulder at the dark from which he had come. It remained still and quiet, apart from the constant dripping from the ceiling.

He drew a hand over his chin as his curious expression faded. A shoeless foot tapped gently against the ground as to remind him that he had somewhere where he had to be. With a grunt he kept on walking.

"Still more majestick shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke” The words fell neatly back into place and he could carry on with his tune.

[Cetacious]

Not even the vaguest reflection of the lights of the upper tunnels came to filter down here. Wilburt stepped forward a couple of steps into darkness. The cave was about twice his height, as far as he could tell by the echoes. Nobody actually knew what it was like here, no one had explored these depths before. That's why he was here, anyway. A Seeker of the paths, a voorloper, expanding the frontier of the known underworld. Wilburt was a proud voorloper, a pioneer facing the unseen, the explorer and guide, the master of keys, the knower of passages. And still he was just a junkman. It was this big family of Seekers that made him feel so proud, down there where no-one else dared to come, through these wide empty mazes, he once again came to meet a fellow here and there and knew it would be someone he could rely on. One seeker for the other.

Wilburt pulled the string on his back to make his motor roar. His lantern jumped on giving more clearness. Wilburt extended the poll to hold it high and the entire place was now bright. A cave of rock and earth, until exactly twice his height started here where the concrete tube ended and continued downwards in irregular shapes. Wilburt drove his lamp down again and descended carefully, watching each of his steps not to rely on an uneven or lose rock. The road did not go much further. There was a wall stopping it abruptly. But it was not rock, it didn't look like regular earth either. Wilburt extended his lamp again to drive it near to the thing. Being a daltonian was no help in moments like that. He could still remember colours, earth was brown, plants were green, rock was grey... Now everything was grey and there were no plants anywhere. Actually Wilburt had never seen plants. What were those again? Plants, plants... Bah! Must have dreamed of it. Amadán. Nevermind.

Wilburt stepped back. Is it just me or did that wall... A large hole sprang open revealing a shiny jelly, which turned around itself as everything started quaking. Wilburt turned around and looked up the road, there was no way to make this path while it was moving like that, he thought, as the boggle's eye closed again and pulled back, revealing the entire monstrous worm in a much larger cavity in front of him. The boggle roared and stayed still for a moment, so did everything else. Wilburt didn't think twice, time to jump stiles, now or never. He drove all his power to his legs and jumped up to one wall, then to another and bounced back up. The ground started shaking again. Don't stop, just don't stop. He started peaking all the way forward, into the tube and on and on, then he looked back to see the obvious thing, the boggle was right there behind him crawling through the concrete tunnel at a speed no other worm could have, filling as good as all of the space in the round passage, just don't stop, everything around them shook like it would fall soon, that thing had quite gruesome teeth, don't stop, junkmen may be but they're part of a complete breakfast, you gotta eat some iron for a balanced diet, don't stop, oh crap, now he remembered the way in was a small iron ladder climbing into a little hole, no matter how fast your legs are, baby, that's not exactly the place to get away, just don't stop, but there was another way, just don't stop, right up there, a light from above, if I can jump in time, three two one... As the impulse of his legs made his fly up through the vertical tube, the boggle worm continued crawling forward at high speed right below him. Wilburt's jump continued higher taking him straight towards a closed iron grill, he still had time to pull out his knife and use the speed to slam it through the grating, then holding himself onto it not to fall back to the boggle, which had apparently already noticed its pray had got away and after a couple of seconds meditation started slowly crawling backwards. Cut quick baby! Wilburt desperately hit his knife immethodically against the grating, hurting more his arm than the grill but finally opening a hole big enough to crouch through scratching all of his body, as the boggle's eyes started looking up the tube.

-Sorry, boggle, only junkmen passing here- Wilburt coughed as he casted a deviator with his last strengths. He smiled at the shiny back surface of the completed magic as he felt the boggle coming up. The wall would last about ten minutes, enough to get a boggle tired of trying or a junkman back to a safer place.

OOC: Wanted to start with a funkier intro post, but okay, next stop will be the market then.

[Phantom Angel]

The body dropped to the floor with a muffled thump, its lifeless eyes wide open, the colour gone from their now-still depths. The lips were purple from the lack of heat, slightly parted to mark the place of the foreign intrusion.

It had tasted good, the final kiss that had ended its miserable life. It had been one moment of intense warmth, of pure bliss so deliciously sweet that it had brought on forgetfulness. The world had simply melted away, its greyness fading in contrast to the bright rainbow colours.

The humans were foolish to forsake the warmth within themselves. Instead, they dug a deep dark pit into which they hid, bathing in their misery.

His job was to make them remember, even if it was for only an instant.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his velvet sleeve, Lethe slowly moved out of the dark alley, the ticking water falling from a broken pipe dictating the cadence of his steps.

Tonight was a good night, dark and gloomy, just like he liked it. He hoped it would rain a bit. There was something about being soaked to the bone, after having recently fed that felt so invigorating. It was the feeling of his icy skin contrasted with the burning and vigour he felt inside him.

It made him feel as if he still were living.

A certain melodious swishing and a clickety-clack seemed to follow him, and the young man turned around to see where it was coming from. The rhythm was soothing to his fervent thoughts. His blood was always hot after he fed, the rush of each kill not yet having subsided.

It took a few moments for Lethe to realise that it had been the combined effect of his swishing velvet skirt, and the clicking of his boots that had produced the pleasant sound. ”I’m starting to like this outfit more and more.” He noted with certain satisfaction for his choice of dress. After all, he had had centuries in a row to get it right.

It was then that he saw him, the man walking on the other side of the road, humming a certain tune that was indistinguishable from so far away. There was a certain bounce in his walk that went along with his distant melody, which Lethe liked. So he watched for a while, as the man paraded before him, slowly becoming a formless shape in the darkness.

”Well, he looked half-decent.” Lethe observed, a smile creeping to his cherry lips. ”Perhaps he’ll want some company tonight.”

As the headlights of the nearest car faded away, and somewhere in the distance a crow crew loudly, the only proof of a man’s passing, was his hurried shadow stretched upon a worn-down wall.

[Cetacious]

Thin rays of light glided down Wilburt's face, once and again. He looked down his right arm. It had not received the crash against the grating with the best smile. And the knife had even come out worse. He sighed, or rather gave out some of his inner steam pressure. As the little rays glided down his torso he could also notice the scratches on it. He was tired, but he had time to rest now, sitting back in the old elevator. Today was not exactly his day... What day was it again? Right! Market day! How could he have forgotten about something like that? The big Floating market would be at St. Paul's cathedral this week. On the surface. And, to get there, everyone would have to cross the legendary Night's Bridge, but nobody would really like to. Guaranteed job, and you'll most probably get another bigger one once you get to the gathering place. How could he have forgotten about something like that? He left the elevator rising until two levels further before he pushed aside the elevator's grill door to take the shortcut west.

As he came closer to his destination it was less and less notorious he was miles above the previous tunnels. Things were even darker here, although he walked to concrete tubes and brick hallways. There was something thick in the air, and Wilburt didn't need a nose to know that. A malevolent concentration of the Essence, maybe. He finally came out of the tube to a large cavity. An infinitely deep chasm stretched next to his feet and an old stone bridge led over it. Or that's what one would assume, although one could not see the other ending through the obscure cloud here. Wilburt had only been once before at Night's Bridge and it was scarier than he remembered. Something was roaring, cracking like old wood tables in the very atmosphere. Nobody would like to take that way if they meet a charismatic voorloper offering a shortcut, would they? Wilburt made his joints cracked and stepped back from the bridge, assuming a proud position to wait for customers.

[Vandread]

Duran continued to walk, analyzing the dark scapes of the tunnel. Was he underground or was this just another face of Hell? The eternal fires hadn't consumed him yet, thus, he dismissed the latter. As the blue eyed man made his down, a soft breezed swept through, blowing his black, red highlighted hair softly.

It had to be...a way out! I was excited at the thought of seeing anything but the dark grey walls of that tunnel for eternity. However, deep in my heart, I realized that there was no turning back. The escape from this cold darkness was only a dream, my human yearning for light tugging at my own logic. I convinced myself then and there that I wouldn't stop until I saw this road to the end...if there was one.

The young man's eyes widened in disbelief, for before him, was a large and seemingly never ending bridge. He could hear soft howls in the distance and the darkness that surrounded the lone way seemed to reek of mystery. The whole thing was a little more then intimidating as he took small steps towards the walkway. This was his only hurdle to cross over.

As I looked into the unknown peril that was the bridge before me, a deep feeling of dread gripped my heart. There looked to be no other way, and the structure appeared to be sturdy. However, this feeling in my heart screamed for me not to proceed, as if my very being would be ripped to pieces by the claws of the shadowy unknown that laid before me. If the forces of the night could be felt anywhere more strongly then here, I'd certain love to visit that place for sheer bragging rights. How I wished I were anywhere but here.

His eye then caught a glimpse of a strange figure by the bridge. As Duran stepped closer, the figure turned to him very quickly, as if the sign of another life was a great matter. Duran's eyes widened when he realized that the being was made of entirely of metal. Could it be...danger?

Duran stepped back ever so slightly and then his eyes wandered back to the large bridge. Why did it feel as though is were an image he had seen in a dream countless nights ago?

[Kayay]

It was watching them, a small carefully folded paper attached to its side and pink nose twitching to sample the air. To an Upworlder or the ignorant, it looked just like any Track Rabbit, but this one had been sent. This one had a purpose, and China bent down and extended her hand, letting the rodent climb up and nestle in the crook of her arm. “Hello. They sent you, didn’t they?” the girl said in a soft voice and stroked it’s mottled gray fur. She removed the much folded paper from the rat’s side and set it back down, letting it scurry back to the shadows.

“Well?” Cal asked, watching carefully her expression as she read the note.

“Here,” she said, handing over the paper. “Read it.”

Cal let out a long, low whistle between his teeth. “It’s getting worse. The upper tunnels aren’t as safe as they once were.” The Remade looked up and around them nervously as expecting someone or something to jump out anytime.

“It can’t be helped,” China commented with cool logic. “Come now, let's…” she stopped when she heard footsteps.

It wasn’t unusual to run into others, especially when on the way to the Market, but it was wise to exercise caution, especially now. Immediately Cal stepped between China and the tunnel as the sound neared and peered down a side passage. It was dismally dark, but his eyes were adapted to the endless night Below, and long before China could make anything out he spied a young man carrying a black briefcase approaching them.

[Magicfangirl]

Gustav spotted something up ahead, he had been wandering for a long while and saw no one that looked safe to approach. His hopes were raised as two 'people' came into clear view.

They seemed...just as unapproachable as anyone else but this endless walking and not even knowing if it was the correct way was driving him mad.

What did it matter if they were dangerous? He was fast, with luck he'd be able to wrap the piano wire around both their necks before they realized.

"Pardon me." Gustav stopped a few paces behind them. "Do you know the way to this 'Floating Market'? I don't know if I'm even in the right direction."

If they hadn't a clue this was a huge waist of time but it was better then wandering around lost for another three days.

[Kayay]

((OOC: I got enough people asking, so FYI, Night’s Bridge looks similar to THIS, except it spans a chasm rather than a river.
FYI, remember that things work funny Below. Knightbridge station isn’t near St.Paul’s normally (See attachment; a higher resolution image is on the webpage.), but when taking the Night’s Bridge, climbing up into the station, and stepping outside, you’ll find yourself outside the St.Paul’s Station, a five minute walk from the Cathedral, instead of Knightsbridge Station. Don’t try to figure it out. It just is.))


Light from the few flickering electric bulbs that lit the man made tunnels cast an eerie illumination on Cal’s green tinted glasses. The soft hiss of metal rubbing on metal punctuated the silence as the Remade’s “fingers” -- fingers that had once sliced through flesh and bone years ago in service of his guild -- of his left hand rubbed against each other. It wasn’t meant to be a menacing gesture, although having a large muscled man staring at you while flexing what were essentially long razor edged daggers intimidated most; it was mostly a thing of habit, like tapping one’s foot.

“A newcomer,” China stated as the other neared. She recognized the signs in his face and, more specifically, the eyes, and, even more importantly, he had that ‘feel’. “It’s at St.Paul’s, but there is only one way to reach tonight’s Market.” She tilted her head to look up at him and answered with a smile, her pale skin and soft golden curls almost luminescent in the darkness. By her side Cal -- gentle, protective Cal -- fidgeted, and she turned to him with her sweetest, most charming expression. “You may come with us, isn’t that right?”

Cal, who was feeling on edge right now and didn’t trust his voice to betray him, shrugged.

“See? Cal doesn’t mind.”

[Kayay]

A strange kind of feral excitement gripped El Chupacabra. He wasn’t aware of the Floating Market in any definitive way, no one said “Hey, you little freak, get ready for the Floating Market!” No, nothing like that. But he understood it all the same, a gathering of strange people and shiny objects. He disliked one intensely, but could barely contain his glee at a chance to collect the other. The thought of strangers gathering in large groups made the little Freak nervous. He hadn’t the best luck with strangers, they didn’t understand him, some went so far as to call him names – not that he understood what they were saying, but he knew what they meant.

So he found himself bounding along a particular cramped little tunnel, it was probably of immense use to someone at onetime, but for now it was the diminutive creatures ‘highway’. A way to get to the ‘Big Bridge’ without using the larger, and less safe, tunnels. Chupa, has he referred to himself, did not like the large tunnels. The thought of all that space over head made him sick, so much empty space... it made him feel small and in danger. But he had to go to the Market, his head spun with thoughts of shiny objects, and forgotten artifacts. He began to drool at the thought, so much that he had to wipe up the pooling liquid with his darting tongue. He shook the thoughts from his head, the path was wrought with danger, and he would have to keep his feral little mind clear if he was to get there safely.

After hours of gleeful bounding, much longer than if stayed to well traveled paths, Chupa finally came to spot where he would have to leave the safety of the cramped passages and enter a larger tunnel. He knew the place vaguely, he thought he remembered coming here the first few years he was in the Underground, and what he recalled, he didn’t like. From here it was a short jaunt to the Big Bridge, and to the terrifying darkness over head. The end of the little passage was small, even for the little Freak, it would take some squeezing.

He bounded up to the opening and placed his clawed hands on the metal bars over the hole, several of the bars were missing, and the resulting opening was just big enough to fit through. He started by carefully pressing his reptilian head through, when he heard something. He froze, still as a mouse, and listened. Footsteps echoed in the large chamber, several strangers he estimated.... three strangers, definitely three. It was dark in the larger chamber, and his eyes weren’t very good to begin with, but he knew they were there. He chanced a deep breath, drawing in smells that would tell more about them then if he could see them outright. Several were talking, in that gibberish that so many down here used, he thought to use that as a distraction, and began to pull himself out of the small passage. He made it out, panting from the effort, and froze once more. Holding on with one clawed hand, with them still out of his eyes range, he clung and inhaled again. One was easy to smell, he was human... plain, pink and predictable. Something about him made Chupa a little uneasy though, like a coiled spring ready to strike. Another smelled of human, metal, old things, and dusty forgotten places. The last was feminine, perfume, and lace. A strange trio, probably not an intended meeting. Perhaps encountering for the first time he thought. He could sense how they were slightly distrustful of each other, each not knowing the others intentions. How would they like to know that dirty little Freaks were about, smelling them freely? He smiled at the thought, his razor sharp teeth gleamed in the sparse light.

[Magicfangirl]

Sensitive ears picked up on a very faint sound, slightly to distant to actually distinguish as movement. He scratched his earlobe thinking his ears were just playing tricks.

The young girl, who oddly reminded Gustav of those porcelain dolls he would see in those expensive store windows, said that he could accompany them.

It struck him odd...why would she let him join them when not having the slightest clue about him. The tall fella, who would probably look intimidating to normal people didn't even make the young man shiver. People, all of them, no matter who they were...they were all cruel and scary beings. However, that left arm of his was something Gustav never had seen before.

'What is the hell is he made of?'

"See? Cal doesn't mind."

The girl called the tall man 'Cal', and his response wasn't strange to Gustav. Silent.

"Well," He thought about it for a moment, it wouldn't be to horrible to just follow them. At least they knew where the Market was and he wouldn't waist time looking for it. "all right...I'll follow you both to the Market. Sence you don't seem to mind..."

[Lt Zechs]

Sleep was not something Alyx did often, or rather at all, instead she would seem to just fall into a light trance, not moving or speaking, the only sound heard through the din of the tunnels would be the occasional click or scrapping of the many gears turning and spinning inside her. It was more of a lingering habit than a necessity, residual from the days when such things were important. But all the same, every sixteen hours or so, almost like clockwork, Alyx would wander off, seeking out a secluded and seemingly quiet area to rest in. It was in one of these small and darkened places that Alyx ineptly discovered was not as vacant as previously thought.

She had been silently watching the dirty-warm, vaguely humanoid creature fiddle with her right shoulder arm for almost twenty minutes now. It appeared to be grinding at it with a crude piece of metal or clay, that was uncertain since only the heat-sensitive lenses were active, she had learned from experience that use of the light amplification eye makes her less inconspicuous in the dark and surprise was something she wanted to keep, at least for now.

"I'll need this one alive."

Intrusting in the strength of her arm and the lack of skill in the creature, Alyx decided to lie in wait for the while, until she could think of what to do, but unfortunately luck had had other plans with the situation and a loud snapping 'ping' echoed through the damp walls as the creature's makeshift tool cut into her shoulder armor, sticking fast and breaking under the pressure, leaving a jagged piece stuck in the gash. The creature itself had lost its balance in the accident and had fallen over to the side somewhere, but quickly recovered, hissing at the arm then lunging itself at her, its teeth clamping down onto the broken end of the tool as it tried to pull it out in a series of grunts and growls, dripping saliva everywhere.

"Alright, that's enough."

Not wanting to wait any longer Alyx made her move, she planned to extend her hammer to its full length, smashing the end against the creature's legs hopefully offsetting it for enough time to get other arm around to stun the creature while it was down.
She got ready to strike and began to tense the hammer, but after being dormant for such a while, her insides had cooled somewhat and the carnivorous growls of the creature were drowned out by the grinding of stiff gears and the rumbling of small power sources and motors.
The creature, reacting before Alyx could, jumped back from her arm hissing and turned to take off down the tunnel in escape.

"Shazbot."

Alyx though slowed, was still only a step behind the creature, she abandoned her first plan and instead snapped up her right arm, activating dark vision at the same time, and fired a shot at the creature with her attached crossbow. The dull 'thunk' of the bow was met with a sharp shriek by the creature as a fair-sized bolt of wood and stone struck it in the left thigh, causing it to fall to the ground.

Satisfied with the shot, Alyx levered herself off the wall and began to approach the creature, who she could now see in the light, resembled that of a small human. She moved closer, slowly, but the human was still quite able and started again to move away. It got up hurriedly at her approach and fled away, limping painfully on its hurt leg, but making good speed despite it.

Alyx gave a fabricated sigh, the action causing her voice box to crackle slightly. The human would probably flee to the ends of the world if it could, but by the extent of its injury and the small yet noticeable trail of blood it was leaving, it shouldn't be too much trouble to track it down, the only problem being that it would take some time. Though she was used to being alone, and what was time to her anyway she thought as she switched her vision modes again and awkwardly reloaded the crossbow. She concentrated on the ground as she made her way forward, joints creaking with the effort. The blood trail glowed a molted orange in front of her, slowly loosing its residual warm, but it was enough to follow and that she did along the damp and darkened tunnels, soon loosing herself in thought again as she made her journey.

(OOC: horay! I hope thats alright for a first post, I can edit it later, but now I must rest, sorry.)