Johnson Patterson Marquis, son to John Marquis Sr and Patricia Marquis, was exactly where he needed to be. Leaders did not get lost. Another times and place and this dappled shade and gorgeous scenery would have been part of a lovely peaceful day out, see some nature, take in a beer at a country pub, check stocks on the phone. But he could not shake the feeling of being watched. Knowing this was what Myles grew up in made certain things click into place. Working hard to keep himself from being noticed. The man felt like he was ready to bolt at a moment notice and made damn sure he was able to do so. There was a small spark of shame that he first saw Myles as a resource, a secret weapon. No one gave a big ‘fuck off’ presentation like John Marquis but he would be a fool to not acknowledge Myles’ help in his rise through Arkwright & Fletcher. But maybe he had risen too far. The financial security he had longed for as a child was his and had been for along time. It was not so much a lack of ambition, but what was the point of sides if you could not enjoy it More importantly he was board. He was a big dog and the yard was looking very small these days… But Myles showing up at the pub looking like death warmed up with a new friend in tow had changed that. Now he had something new, exciting and a mission, his first mission. This Trigger, the one Barrington had referred to as ‘Cash’ sounded like it had been tailor made for him, a suit that grew stronger the more money you had on you… If John Marquis knew one thing it was making money. Barrington had explained the customisation would be minimal but he supposed it would be like adding a better music system to an already top of the line Mercedes. If he could switch the currency from shillings to his bank account those pound sterling pounds would have him fighting on easy mode. first though he had to find his way back to the others. This was a team project after all.
Lost in thought John Marquis did not see the small pink pig like goblin sneaking up on him until it was too late.
“Squeeeeeeoink” The porcine goblin screamed as it rammed into the side of John Marquis’ head knocking him over.
He saw the thing run back into the bushes as he rose from the dirt floor. Then hear it scrambling through the undergrowth. It was circling him waiting for an opportunity to strike. The stillness that followed put him on edge. That edge was all that saved him from a violent blow from behind as the pig goblin launched another attack from behind. John Marquis dodged to the side and watched the wretched thing scamper off into the green. Again and again the thing barrelled into him each time from a blind spot. Some he was able to dodge but the attacks were constant and more were hitting than not.
“Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeoink” The thing bellowed as this time there was no retreat.
It clung to John’s armoured helm and beat down with its ugly little trotters. The small size hid a staggering strength. John was able to knock it free from his head and it ran back into the bushes. There would be another attack soon, John needed to do something.
“Calm down big dog, you can do this”
He waited. Seconds passing as he listened for some tell tale snap or rustle. then there is was, he spun, punching out and connecting with a crunch into a fairy made pork simulacrum. The piggy little goblin dropped to the floor like a sack of meat.
“You come at Patricia Marquis’ boy, you better come prepare…oh no.”
The small porcine abomination was jerking and distending… its limbs stretching, growing and filling out with muscle. It squeezed in delight as the disgusting metamorphosis completed. It stood up. It was now standing as tall as a man, but stocky. A pair of dangerous looking tusks jutted out, its teeth razor sharp and a hunched well muscled body spoke of great danger.
“I need a bigger bag of shillings.”
The cat sat in a tree. Not exactly a cat, it was an ancient weapon system that had taken on cat like features. But the man who wore it was sat in a tree as a very angry, very yellow bear swiped and scratched at the trunk in an attempt to maul him. John Barrington was dead set again anything mauling him so he kept well out of reach. The downside to his current position of not being mauled was the precarious balance required two hands to keep him in that position. Despite countless years of combat experience he was as of yet unable to fire a gun with his bare feet, let alone a foot encased in anti fairy technology. An early scuffle had revealed that the bear was stronger than anything he had faced for a while leading John to seek out some breathing room to form a plan.
“I don’t suppose barbed insults work on you do they?”
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“Gronk.” Said the bear who wasn’t really listening.
The ugly yellow bear backed its bulk up and started to ram the tree. The trunk shook and John Barrington just about held onto the tree. Did being able to land on your feet matter if where you were landing was the open gullet of a fae monstrosity. He didn’t think so. John had screwed this up. He had been screwing things up a lot lately. He had failed to get Myles bonded to his trigger in time… that had worked out but the results were a bullseye on Myles’ back up until he proved himself, and even then, some people would not let the whole being dead thing go. Lastly he had thought Myles tales of his hometown to be the presence of some stray low fae. The result of this was he was stuck in this bloated fae wilderness. The bastard thing was only 0.40468564 square kilometres big on the outside… inside it played by fairy rules and space could get weird. He should not have brought two brand new Fairy Trigger… damn he hated that term, the distain practically dripped off it… into this place. But he had no choice, this damn nameless thing was ‘kill on sight’ to anyone in the community. John Barrington could not afford to keep screwing up. Big things were coming and he needed to be on top for and have his current and future recruits on their top form too. The bear look a jump, dug its claws in and started climbing. At least its arms and feet were now occupied.
Myles had been right there were things he had not been telling them. One of those things was his jacket, or rather jackets, something he would explain in good time. Another those things sat on his wrist under the suit.
“Llex, the suit can only analyse few from the outside, we are too deep inside this thing for it to give me anything useful. Are you picking anything up and if so what do you recommend.”
“Remembered me have you. I’ve been sitting here going to waste. You know I have an I.Q of over six thousand, thats the same as six thousand gym instructors.
“You made that joke last time Llex.”
“Oh did I? I must have forgot, now where were we… right, the bear. Looking at my records this is one of the constructs the place creates to hunt and protect itself with. This one appears to be one of the oldest and most dangerous. Known for eating every living thing it comes across, defecting to mark the bounds of its hunting grounds. Also not very bright.”
“How do I deal with it Llex?”
“Oh thats easy, you just need a big hole…”
What happened next took place in moments. with a plan of battle in place John Barrington did not hesitate, he drew out his Trigger in one hand and a silver-grey model of a mouse with a long ribbon for a tail. No longer holding onto the tree he fell towards the bear. He clipped the mouse onto his Trigger and re-initialised it. Over his sleek black and pink armour a jacket formed. It was a grey-silver cameo pattern. In John Barrington’s hands was a very big, very alien looking weapon, it was almost a gun, and almost a sword. John avoided snapping jaws to stab the point into the beasts torso then pulling the trigger on the weapon. A blast of black and pink lit up the eldritch forrest for a brief instant. John stood atop an unmoving yellow bear, a bloody smoking hole running through the middle of its torso.
“… to trap it inside, you can then use your superior mobility to pick away at its health safely.” Finished llex
“Oh, that would have made more sense, why didn’t you tell me faster” Said John Barrington, allowing his jacket to dematerialise.
“Idiot” rebuked Llex as he returned to standby mode.
John Barrington was glad no one had been around to see that. He was hoping Myles would not have to deal with Augments for a while and he could keep avoiding the topic a little longer. Because the Enduring type with the cat like affectations and beautiful black armour had a terrible secret. He have lived long enough to develop Augments despite being near the peak of Enduring type. His Augments manifested as jackets over his armour, each with some variation of sword, gun or both and… each and every one of them clashed horribly.
The suit was good at jumping, Myles would give it that. However the thing after him was also good at jumping. It appeared to be a humanoid tiger. In some ways it reminded him of his beloved Charlie Murderpaws, albeit much less adorable. It was bouncing allover the densely packed woodland giving not a single moment for Myles to gather himself and plan a counter or escape. So Myles ran. The training was paying off however, John had not explicitly stated it, but Myles had worked out the suit did not add a set amount of power to the user. Instead the suit multiplied strength, speed and stamina. The weeks of ungodly cardio in the park meant that Myles was just about keeping ahead of the damn bouncing carnivore. But how long could he keep it up?
Myles jumped between the trees, launching himself from solid trunk to solid trunk. Acrobatic feats that not too long ago he would never have expected of the finest olympian, let alone himself. He hopes nothing joined the tiger hunting him as he was pretty vulnerable mid leap. Unable to change trajectory in the air meant that once he committed to a direction he was going to hit that point… But that was true for most objects moving through space, unless it had rockets or wings or something… but still. That gave Myles an idea. Slowing the speed of his leap, he let the creature gain ground on him. He would have to time this just right. He launched himself off the next trunk with all the power he could channel through the suit legs, narrowly missing a claw swipe from the striped beast. He needed to ensure the humanoid tiger was directly following him. Myles hit the other trunk but instead of leaping on, he dropped and manoeuvred under the arc of the beast hunting him and drove pointed fingers upwards like a blade as it flew past. He felt something crack, pop and tear as the tiger spun badly and landed spine first against the tree before dropping on its head.
There was a choice to be made here. A battle between hunter and prey, sizing each other up, fighting with honour, glory, warrior spirit and such nonsense. Or winning. Why anyone would choose the former he didn’t know. Myles stamped down hard on the head of the bouncing tiger. He did it again. He kept stamping until there was a rough bloody paste where its head should have been. Then he picked up the corpse and absorbed it into his inventory. He lamented that the stamp on something's head battle technique, while effective was probably a very situational move.
He was wondering what to do next when a racing green and gold stumbled out of the bushes.
“Myles, while you have been procrastinating over here the big dog has been bringing home the bacon.” John Marquis said before promptly falling over face first.
Even battle worn and in the mud, Myles noted that the ‘Cash’ armour looked expensive. Why was everyone getting cooler things than him.