Pitch Space

Jack decided to sleep...after all, why not? It is getting closer to his sleeping hours for his usual schedule and he wonders if that schedule will change a lot, should he become a Soldier. He moves to Beth before passing the cafeteria over to her, the food prepared for his sleeping time already set out for her to rule. She looks at him with a frown and it is clear she is still unhappy with him.

"What about sleeping schedules? How does that work for Soldiers?" Jack asks.

"Pfft. What sleepin'?" Beth asks, narrowing her eyes at him as if he is an idiot. "Dude, we neva know when there's gon' be an attack. Sure, you gotta schedule. Howeva, that don't mean the Folk are jus' gon' be all: Welp! Jack's asleep, buds, le's all jus' hang back and wait for him ta get some sleep 'fore we try ta kill all of 'em! Geez, Jack."

Jack crosses his arms. "Okay, Beth. You win. Take a message to Ragno when you get a chance and let him know I change my mind. There? Happy?"

Beth finally lights up, her voice softening for the first time in quite a while. She places her hands on his shoulders. "So, tha's all it took? Not about people dyin' or needing food...but your damned sleep? You ass."

"Shut up." Jack says, scowling at her before he steps away. "I'm going to sleep."

"Nighty, night, asshat." Beth says, "Puttin' yo damn sleep befor--"

"Shut it, Beth!" Jack calls back before exiting the cafeteria. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. You can never win with a woman...

Jack's fists are clenched, his entire body tensed more than it ever has been within one moment. He stands at the entrance to his room, looking down at the massacre that was clearly arranged in his room. Everything is...set up. Prepared. He was meant to see this, meant to feel what he is feeling in this very moment. And it pisses him off.

Before him, lay two dead bodies, pooled in red blood. He isn't a detective...he doesn't understand any of this. Brigantia's beautiful form, her face still an angelic softness and untouched by the gore that is done to her body. She is placed carefully within the arms of a Gargoyle's embracing arms, her head resting with eyes closed on its chest...just under where its throat is slit.

Jack pushes away the paralysis and the shock for a brief moment, only long enough to send a short, brief, and non-descriptive message to Ragno for an emergency summons. He never sends something with an urgent tag--he's a damned cook, he rarely needs it. It will be sure to catch the creature's attention.

So....what now? Jack asks himself this question, over and over as he is slowly pulled and urged from his own home in a manner that only whispered of pity. He tilted his head to the side just before he turned away, looking at the sight of the dead bodies one last time. Even after he left the room, the image was still imprinted into his memory. Perhaps for all eternity.

"What now?" Jack asks, looking up at Ragno. His eyes seem somewhat glazed over, as if he is looking at the gargoyle, but also looking elsewhere deep into his memories. "What do I do?"

Gaines looks down at the Gargate, whimpering in its own blood. He signals to another gargoyle, known as Pivot. He was advised by Pivot not to inquire as to how the rookery mate received his name and he has done well not to do so.

"What has happened?" Pivot asks, looking down with stern eyes of concern, bending down with folded wings to lift the animal. "Did you not just come from outside from scout duty?"

"Yes...the Folk didn't kill him." Gaines says, still in uniform and bloodied from a small fight. It wasn't normal to have the wounds that this particular Gargate has. "They just...bit him. It doesn't make any sense."

"This isn't right." Pivot says, "I shall take him to the doctor. You should report to Ragnarok. You should be going out again soon, shouldn't you?"

"Indeed. What was it the humans say? No rest for the busy." Gaines replies.

"Wicked." Pivot states, beginning to walk away.

"What?" Gaines asks.

"Wicked. No rest for the wicked." Pivot says dismissively, his attention clearly on the wounded animal in his arms.

Pivot has been with the animal now for about two hours. Something isn't right. He keeps whimpering and the poor Gargate seems more fragile in spirit than a human's dog. He doesn't like it. He waits patiently for the blood tests--the doctors have better not be taking their sweet time with it, either. The more time spent in this room, the more tension and uneasiness he feels--but, he's not entirely sure why...

"Are the results in?" Pivot stands, his wings now unfolding from around his neck, stretching out just as the analyst enters the room. An eyebrow raises as he notices the woman's pale face, as if she had just seen a ghost.

"Get out." The woman says darkly. "I need time alone with the patient."

"...what? It's a do--" Pivot argues.

"Get. Out!" The woman almost screams at him. What the hell is her problem?! He storms out, almost punching the wall before the woman slams the door behind him. Just who the hell does that woman think she is?!

Several days pass as The Folk do their best to fight their way in, though the battle does become a little difficult, they make no progress in destroying them. Pivot is still checking on the Gargate repeatedly, though it is known that his condition has only been worsening.

As a week goes by, Pivot is no longer allowed access to see the creature anymore and he becomes anxious and worried. What right did the doctor have to deny him access to see him? And of course, now there are like...six medical people looking after him. What is going on?

He moves to the cafeteria, his head down and shoulders slumped. A gargoyle shouldn't looks so...defeated, considering how well they have defended their home for the last week, but...this did not change how he feels.

Jack is eating, instead of cooking today, so he moves over and sits across from him once he gets his own tray. The human looks at him with an odd expression, no doubt wondering why he looks so down. Pivot isn't good at hiding how he feels.

"Do you know who is in charge of the medical team?" Pivot asks Jack. As someone who works, he may have an answer. That, and he's human--most humans did lead the teams, since most gargoyles were out fighting.

"Hmm...I don't know." Jack says, pondering it. "Have you asked someone with higher rank? I'm sure it won't be hard to find out."

Pivot grunts in response, digging into his food with silent agreement. It should not be hard to find out, at all. What will be hard, is talking the idiot into letting him see the Gargate again. Something is fishy.

Pivot looks over at Ragnarok, greeting him with a sad smile. He says, "Eh. Not allowed to see him today. They refused to let me even talk to him through a curtain, let alone see him. I don't understand it."

Jack shakes his head with disappointment as Pivot shovels food into his mouth once more. He eats a little more himself, wondering what is going on, himself.

"Do you know who's in charge of the medical team?" Pivot asks his fellow gargoyle.

Jack greets Sheila with a sad smile, though he doesn't say anything. He has an expression of concern towards Ragno's discovery--classified? For an injured Gargate? That's a little more than just odd.

"The Folk usually just tear us to pieces." Pivot says, completely ignoring Sheila's entrance and her sheepish expression, choosing instead to answer Ragnarok's inquiry. "This time, they bit him. They bit him and then he just fell and couldn't fight anymore. He acted weak and sickly. So I took him there and they let me see him for almost a week. But now, they won't let me even talk to him."

Pivot slams his large hand down on the table, denting it with a large slam. Jack sighs, as it will be his job to make sure they can get a new one--considering how hard it is to get tables made with this material in the first place...but, he says nothing. He understands Pivot's frustration completely.

As Ragnarok finishes speaking, an alarm goes off, Raknarok's own communicator alerting him with specifics. Two things in the alert system do not make sense: Firstly, There has been a breach of Folk into the compound. Secondly, there has been no barrier destruction or barrier breach.

Loud crashing is heard in the distance, as well as a bit of screaming and growling, as well as the sounds of running feet. Jack stands, as does Pivot, looking to each other nervously between the many tables with uncertain emotions. Pivot's posture has switched to one that is defensive and ready to fight. His eyes light up and he looks somewhat angry.

"I'm going towards the screams." Pivot says, somehow already knowing that it would take him to the infirmary.

Pivot makes his way into the infirmary, past the area where he was previously barred from entering. A few quarantine signs are placed up here and there, but this does not halt his progress as he rushes into the back room to see...

Dead bodies, everywhere, mostly human. All of them, of course, are doctors, wearing their lab coats and covered in blood as they are sprawled out upon the floor. At the back of the room, there is a cage, and this is the part that truly scares him. He had moved about the room, finding only a few survivors, all of which had the bite marks of a Gargate on their limbs repeatedly, where black oozy blood seemed to come from.

The cage, which was thick and metallic, was covered in lacerations and scratches of the claws of a Gargate, yet these did far more damage than any Gargate should have been able to do. The cage was obviously designed to hold the strength of a Gargate...the hole gaping in the front of where the bars were chewed and gnawed away, bent outwards as the creature forced its way into freedom.

One of the surviving doctors were coughing up blood as he moves towards her and she gestures that she does not wish to be touched. Pivot's mind races, part of him wanting to focus on those that are still alive but part of him wanting to look at the cage and another part wanting to find the missing Gargate that seems the obvious cause of this slaughter.

"You have to..." The doctor coughs a little more. "You have to....or it'll spread."

She exhaled her final breath, her eyes remaining open but falling into an emptiness void of a soul. Pivot doesn't understand what she was trying to say. What should he do? Search for the creature that did this? See to the survivors?

Pivot tends to the wounded, as most are unconscious, now. Placing them onto the medical beds in rooms that aren't so damaged, he uses what little first aid skills he has to help those that he can. He uses his communicative device to notify any off-duty medical personnel that they are needed on shift.

He takes the bodies and keeps them in the damaged room, careful to lay them out with respect. His head shoots up in shock as he hears screams of fear, shrill and obviously human. I hope someone is there to help them...I'm too far from the screams to be of any assistance. Then again, this thing leaves an obvious trail--there's no way they haven't tracked it.

The gargate, now somewhat disfigured, stands alone amongst the injured and dying. Though the gargate still has its overall shape and form, the center of its back reveals the protrusion of several horns like that of the Folk. Its eyes have turned a deep black and the black ooze that drools and pools from its mouth is unsettling. And of course, the claws of the Folk, so strong and capable of cutting through the planet with such ease, are obviously replacing that of the gargate's, apparent through the markings left behind as they cut through the camp.

As the group finds this creature, it simply stands there, staring, taking the posture to pounce and readying to do so with a wild expression of rage.

As he approaches the beast, it lowers its stance, ready to pounce with a feral growl. Eyes spitting light, the creature roars with a threat as it then lunges at Ragnarok, claws ready to dig into his flesh with more depth than they ever could have before.