forum Hunters in the Woods | one on one | CLOSED

Started August 07, 2022 by @Mojack group

tune

The world is a tense, dangerous place.

And it’s been made even worse since that…thing landed.

It hasn’t hit any major civilization centres yet, and while no one has managed to capture it, you’ve been able to ward it off. It does seem to have common sense, realizing you vastly outnumber it. But it also appears to be extremely intelligent, learning how your kind works - understanding your strategies, and turning them against you.
That thing is alien - you all can’t deny it. Why it came here, you’re uncertain. It’s big, scaly - bioluminescent, toxic (but not acidic) blood. Some of the guys who’ve survived being up close and personal say it sort of looks like an insect. A scaly insect - now that’s something else.

So far, it’s contained. It usually attacks in the dark. But how long until it breaks free? You hope that the big guns get here soon, so that this thing can finally be taken down for good.
But one night, you’re out alone. Not far from the camp - whether you’re out for a break or whatever, you’re just minding your own business.
Until the sky seems to crack open. Not literally - you know that’s not possible, but something shows up through the clouds, and it’s even more visible due to the night. The thing rumbles, and you’re damn certain other people can probably hear that thing - you’re quite a distance away from it, after all.
It’s nothing like the craft that the monster came in, which was destroyed the moment it exited. No, this thing appears to lower out of the clouds, carefully. It hovers - and something drops out of the ship, into the forest below. The forest that you’re in. That the camp is in, that the monster’s in.
The ship cloaks, and moves back up into the clouds, and out of your sight.

You’re not sure what you just witnessed, if you’re even supposed to have witnessed it. But when you try to inform others, no one believes you - that another party has just entered the equation. They all think it’s the monster - the “Blue Blood,” - not a completely different entity.
You know what you saw wasn’t a hallucination. It wasn’t the Blue Blood. That was something else entirely.

But it’s been days, and there’s been nothing. Nothing came up at all. The only notable thing is that the Blue Blood hasn’t attacked in a while.
You’re going out to change some of the traps today. That’s your job. And if the Blue Blood is sighted, send out a flare.
but what if the other thing appears?

---

A sci-fi RP involving a human and a Yautja. yeah I’m on my predator hyperfixiation again

the “Blue Blood” is an alien, named for its blood appearance. It towers easily over humans at 14ft, has scales, several limbs extending from its serpentine body (that look very insect like in appearance), tendrils extend from its upper body, and multiple eyes on the face. in addition, mandibles extend from its mouth. while it doesn’t utilize guns, it does utilize its surroundings, capable of climbing trees and jumping quite far. but it can bleed - so it can be killed. it has a stinger on the end of its tail that it uses to paralyze foes. The Blue Blood is believed to have set up a nest in the area where it goes to heal.

if you’re not familiar with a Yautja, it’s an already existing species in fiction, commonly known as a Predator
And if you know what Predators do, then you’d understand what mine is doing on Earth. predators hunt worthy prey. (if they kill something and it’s not worthy, they skin it. if it’s worthy, they take the spine and skull). they are a highly advanced species, and typically utilize cloaking devices that allow them to stalk their prey. they usually don’t harm individuals that aren’t considered a threat. Some of them can speak English (at very least sometimes they can sign it or understand it). they reach physical adulthood at around 50-60, marking them around the human equivalent of 18-19
(Sorry for infodumping)

for this RP, we are going on the basis that no human here has seen a Yautja before (therefore they wouldn’t know what one is).
(your character is a soldier of some type, as to what type is up to you. pilot, medic, sniper, typical, etc)
i have control over the Blue Blood. other soldiers (other than your character) are shared control, meaning we both can make NPCs out of them. you can also bring in additional characters that aren’t soldiers
the setting of the RP is somewhere in the north-eastern European wilderness, far from most civilization.
the Blue Blood is a creation by me.

for rules:

1. Play to your strengths, remember your weaknesses: in the event of a fight, no autohitting, but don’t dodge everything either. (with the Yautja, a technology superior species being a thing…note that they have an honour code system that seems to mention this issue. Yautja don’t want an easy hunt, so they will omit using certain gear sometimes to “level the playing field” so to speak)
2. Blood/gore is expected in this RP, note that. Cursing is allowed as usual. Mature RPers preferred, due to the nature of this RP.
3. Sexytimes should they happen will be fade to black.
4. ASK BEFORE JOINING, if I do not know your writing style, I will request a writing sample that has dialogue in it. please don’t be upset if I deny you!
5. Punctuation is greatly appreciated, as well as good grammar, but I definitely have made mistakes before.
6. You are not required to be incredibly active for this RP, although if it has been a while (like if the RP’s pushed off the first page AND it’s been a little bit) I might bump the RP. however I am not the most active person either. know that I feel super bad about my dead RPs
7. My only rule on response length is that I have something to work with.
8. again, going back to the note on “we’re going on the basis that no one has ever seen or heard of a Yautja,” there shall be no metagaming. metagaming meaning you use information you learned OOC in RP (without establishing a realistic way on how your character learned that information). so for example, your character would not know that the Yautja have an honour code.

Character template

Name:
Age: (21-25)
Gender:
Pronouns:
Orientation:

Appearance:
Clothing:
Personality:
Specialties: (skills. what they’re good at.)
Other: (anything else of note, goes here)

(Also, here, have a character)

Name: Ronaldo Vale, but he asks that you please don't call him Ronaldo. Ronnie or just Vale works.
Age: 24
Gender: Male

Appearance: Ronnie is roughly 5'10"/1.8m tall and weighs around 170lbs/78kg. He's Caucasian, with hazel eyes, dark brown hair cut in a classic 'high and tight' style, and the tan of a military man regularly out in the sun. He's relatively muscular, but not built, since the military pushes function over aesthetics.
Clothing: Wears the typical Marine Woodlands camo, fatigues/combat uniform. Occasionally dons a ghillie suit as needed. Also uses Plate Carrier armor with edge-blade and spike protection. Tac gloves, combat boots, and a specialized helmet/face mask complete his outfit.
Personality: Ronnie is a competitive individual, but is generally quiet about it. He excels at things because he pushes himself. He can be reckless and impulsive, but he usually has sound thinking, even if rushed. He's from an average background, a rural town in Washington State, dad was a doctor, mom a teacher, so he's generally well-adjusted. Average intelligence for a military specialist- smarter than the average man- and good situational awareness. He also does well with empathy and understanding other people's emotional states. He's good with kids, not so good with the ladies, and gets along best with other military guys.
Specialties: Ronnie is an exceptional marksman with just about any weapon he can get his hands on. He's also highly trained in close-quarters, hand-to-hand combat with weapons ranging from knives and spikes to quarter-staves to just his fists. Being from an immigrant family, he speaks Italian, Spanish, English, Esperanto, and is picking up more Russian the longer his platoon is in the country. He's also particularly good at setting snares and traps, conventional and unconventional. He is the team sniper and trapper. He also sometimes helps the civilian liaisons when dealing with locals, particularly if kids are involved..
Other: Ronnie is a new recruit to the US Trophy Hunters Division. This is his first mission with the Division.

US Trophy Hunters Division

The Trophy Hunters are a clandestine unit composed of members from various Spec Ops groups across the military, run under the CIA 'Special Activities Center' heading. They are a series of blurred lines and grey areas, crossing military branches, occasionally recruiting civilian experts, run by the military but technically under the CIA's control, hunting monsters that don't officially exist. There are only usually 300 people with the tag "Trophy Hunter" in their file at any given time, making the Division one of the smallest and most rarified groups the US can field. The Division uses its own ranking system, since the members come from various branches with various rank structures.

Commander Vancina is the officer in charge of the whole Division. He accepts and directs missions and is in charge of final decisions. He also enjoys a personal hand in recruiting.

The Division splits into 3 Companies, Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie Companies. Each company is run by a Captain. Alpha by Cpt. Lawrence, Bravo by Cpt. Ephraim, and Charlie by Cpt. Allen. Each company is 100 men, with the Captain being the 100th man. Captain Allen is Ronnie's Captain in Charlie Company.

The Companies each split into 3 Platoons of 33 each. Each platoon is lead by a Lieutenant. There are 9 Lt.'s in the whole Division. Each Lt. leads a company designated 1, 2, or 3 within their company. For example, Lt. Jameson leads Charlie 1, or C1, the platoon Ronnie is a part of.

Each Platoon breaks into 3 Squads of 11 each. The Squads are lead by Ensigns. The Squads are labeled Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot, within their platoons. For instance, Ronnie is part of C1 Echo, lead by Ensign Davis.

Each Squad breaks into Teams of 5, with the Ensign being the 6th man on 1 team. The teams are lead by Sergeants. The teams are labeled 1 and 2 within their squads. Ronnie's team is C1E2, lead by Sergeant Evans. The team labeled 1 within a Squad is lead by a Master Sergeant, who is in line for command if the Ensign goes down.

The teams are made up of Corporals. Regardless of rank when enlisted, the men are given the rank Corporal. On the occasion a civilian is brought in as part of the group, they are referred to as Agent.

So Ronnie would be Corporal Vale, C1E2.

The Division recruits from CIA SAC, USMC Force Recon, USMC Scout Snipers, USAF 427th, USAF Non-Standard Aviation, USAF SpecOps Low-Level II, USN Seals (including Seal Team 6), USN Special Warfare Combatant-craft Crewmen (or Special Boat Teams), USA Rangers (including Delta Force), USA Green Berets, USA Civil Affairs, and USA PSYOPS. With 12 major Special Operations groups recruiting into a Division of only 300, there is quite a diverse array in operators. However, the requirements to become a member of the Division are incredibly steep, limiting candidates.

The Trophy Hunters are monster hunters, although some of the more particular men prefer the term 'Cryptid Containment'. These monsters are often the subject of myth and legend, and are deliberately kept that way by governments and people in power. But they certainly exist. And they're certainly deadly. The Trophy Hunters were formed as a response to these monsters, and have been engaged in counter-cryptid operations for a long time.

They've been deployed along the Pacific Rim to fight Kaiju.

They've been deployed in North America and Asia to contain rampaging Sasquatches and Yetis.

They've been deployed in the Atlantic to take down various forms of Kraken.

They've been deployed around the world to combat werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, minotaurs, the Loch Ness monster, wendigos, the Jersey Devil, wampus cats, chupacabras, and many of the other horror stories mothers tell to scare their children.

The Trophy Hunters have protected the civilized world from all of these threats, as well as the panic that would rise if the average person knew of the existence of monsters and aliens.

Members of the Division are sworn to an extreme level of secrecy. They are all men who have gone on black ops and been labeled 'MIA' or 'KIA'. They have gone through a similar process to the Witness Protection Program, and have had their identities changed. All of the men recruited have therefore been selected because of their lack of family ties and responsibilities back home. They cannot form long term relationships before the age of 45, when they're up for retirement, and they are on call at any and all times to respond to threats. According to the US government, as well as any family and friends they may have, their old identities are dead, killed in action, or missing in a combat zone. This has lead to the Division being referred to as the Revenants, ghosts of their former selves.

The Revenants form a sort of family amongst themselves, since they are the only ones who know the truth about each other. Teams are very close, officers wind up acting as father figures, and funerals are usually held only among the division.

This is where we find Ronnie.

Name: Bachiit (Batch-it)
Age: 82, in human equivalence a young adult
Gender: Male
Pronouns: he/him
Orientation: Biromantic asexual

Appearance: For a Yautja, Bachiit is slightly leaner, although by human standards would still be viewed as muscled. In addition, he stands at 7’2”, a decent height for his species.
Bachiit has dark green, mottled black skin. Green becomes lighter towards areas like the front of the torso and top of the head. Small, orange/yellow highlights may be seen in the mottled parts of his body, but are not frequently encountered. A large scar marks the right side of his upper chest - a memory of a difficult hunt. We would not recognize what gave him that scar, only that it had to have come from a vicious creature.
Overall, Bachiit looks like a typical Yautja, aside from differences that set apart individuals. He possesses short, sparse quills above his eyes, and has a few on his torso, arms, and legs.

Clothing: Bachiit typically wears body armour, although opts for wearing less of it in exchange for enhanced stealth ability and more mobility. He has a bio helmet of course, as well as thermal netting - hot to the touch, keeping him warm while out of his native climate.
Personality: Bachiit is a calm, careful hunter, who takes his time while in the hunt. He would rather take more time to observe, as opposed to jumping straight in and risking permanent injuries to himself. His strategies might be seen as “toying with his prey” to humans.
He demonstrates the ability of cooperation well. However, Bachiit is typically not one to reach out first; usually preferring to focus on what he came to the area for. Whether it be a hunt or something else.
Bachiit thinks highly of his clan. The failure of a hunt is one of his greatest fears, and to fail a hunt would risk many things for him.

Specialties: As is usual for a Yautja, Bachiit is excellent at climbing trees and travelling through them. It is typically safer to move from tree to tree rather than on the ground, although Bachiit does have access to cloaking technology. The cloak comes from a module in his wrist gauntlet, and can get shorted out if the gauntlet is damaged, or on contact with water.
While his biohelmet can help him translate and speak other languages, Bachiit demonstrates curiosity in learning different languages without the assistance of a biohelmet. However, it’s often more convenient to just use his language translator. He still takes interest in learning how other species live, a slight different to certain Yautja clans who view humans as nothing more than “lower species.”
While carrying various weapons and much more of a long-distance to medium distance fighter, Bachiit is also adept with close quarters combat. His species natural abilities can make him a challenge to go up against.
Other: Bachiit’s tactics have a very heavy emphasis on stealth and scare tactics, to wear down prey.

It had been a considerable amount of time since Bachiit had landed, here on the planet “Earth.” He was familiar with it, of course. As was he with humans, if only mildly - he’d never encountered one before, only hearing others speak of them. If one wasn’t careful, they could easily be outsmarted, and Bachiit knew to remember that well. Humans may not have the brute physical strength, but they were numerous, and smart.
Bachiit had not spent the days he’d been on Earth doing nothing. He had been dedicating time to learning the terrain, the “hunting grounds.”
And gradually figuring out where the prey was hiding. He was certain it knew that he was here, just not where he was. It was likewise for Bachiit, who only had a vague idea. He had a bit of help in that aspect - the creature was contained for now, thanks to some local humans. He hadn’t directly engaged with them, opting to watch from afar. But they were after it as well - the Blue Blood, they called it.

Currently in the trees, Bachiit had set up a small watch point. An area where he could note what was currently going on. He remained very still, as to not give away his position.
Bachiit had noted the presence of traps, set by the human hunters. Intended for the Blue Blood - Bachiit was careful to avoid them, primarily to avoid injury, but also to avoid casting suspicion on his presence.
Continuing his survey on the area, Bachiit could hear a twig snap in the quiet. He looked in direction of it, switching a setting on his biohelmet.
Only an animal - a deer, he believed? The lone animal looked alert for a few seconds, before darting off, as though it detected potential danger. Watching it leave, Bachiit watched for a few more moments, seeing if he could spot anything else. Upon not getting anything more, Bachiit, continued his survey of the area.

Bachiit had done a bit of preparation in the area as well. Setting up traps higher in the trees - small mines, that might do a bit of damage, but not enough to kill the Blue Blood. He knew enough to know it was capable of climbing.
And he’d hunted a little bit, primarily for himself to garner some food. Only small creatures, and only the weak. He’d not go after a grand creature unless it attacked him first, or if it was for a trophy.
It was a relatively uneventful stage. Impatient hunters would have jumped in far before him. But Bachiit knew the general location of his prey - all he needed now was a bit more time, then he could begin the next stage.

Ronnie cursed internally as the deer took off into the woods. He'd been about to hit it with a railgun round, but something had spooked it as he'd been settling into position. The traps were all clear still, he'd checked, but his second objective for the patrol was still incomplete.

Dinner.

The local deer had been more skittish recently, as if they'd finally gotten wind of the Blue Blood living amongst them. Ronnie shook his head as he settled back against the tree roots he was camouflaged in. The monster had been there for a while now, but the wildlife were just now showing signs of duress.

Or maybe it was whatever he'd seen last week.

Ronnie had reported it to Sergeant Evans, who had run it up the chain of command, but the other scouts and all the sensor arrays had reported nothing so… they had chalked it up to the stress of his first mission. But Ronnie knew what he'd seen.

And if the wildlife had seen his mysterious xeno, maybe that explained the sudden skittishness.

He had the oddest sense of… of not being alone, as he sat there. The Russian woods gave him the creeps. Being out here, where Division history told him they'd once hunted down Baba Yaga, just reminded him that there was so much they didn't know.

The unknown had scared him, ever since… the Incident. But becoming a Revenant?

This was his way to fight back against the unknown.

He squared his shoulders, trying to clear the feeling of being watched from his spine, and stood up. That deer had scared any other wildlife away with its mad dash into the woods. Maybe he'd have better luck at Rally B.

He hit the coms button on the inside of his gloves. "Corporal Vale here, moving from Snare 6 to Rally Point B, still executing Operation Dinner."

He heard the coms tech snicker. "Roger, Corporal, logs updated. Proceed with Operation Dinner, and good luck, Vale."

Ronnie smiled to himself as the tech broke protocol to crack a joke. Operation Dinner was a very serious affair. Food was important, no laughing manner.

He took a step, and the feeling of you're not alone suddenly increased.

The Division had recruited him because he had good instincts. When Charlie Company had deployed to Russia to contain this cryptid, he'd been told to trust his instincts. So he froze.

Because those instincts were screaming right now.

As he continued to survey the area, Bachiit spotted yet another heat signature. It was near where the deer had been, but Bachiit could recognize it not as a deer, but one of the locals. One of the hunters, to make the difference.
So he had chosen a survey area near the human, or perhaps they’d come up to the location at some point. Bachiit watched the figure, but it seemed that they’d frozen in place. Clicking his mandibles briefly, Bachiit slowly stood up in the tree, continuing to watch the human. He had no intention of hunting them - the Blue Blood was his only target.
His cloak was active, and Bachiit turned away, deciding to move out of the area for now. He had been here a few hours, and it was now time to move onto another survey spot - perhaps check out some areas that he suspected the Blue Blood to frequently wander.

With ease, Bachiit jumped to another tree, landing - the branches shook slightly, yet nothing appeared to be there. He repeated the process again, quickly moving - and at a certain distance, descended towards the ground. On the ground, Bachiit could see more clues - things left behind by the Blue Blood. Certainly, witnessing the Blue Blood in an active scene would be best, but this let him study the Blue Blood before meeting it face to face.
As he landed on the ground, there was a surprised gasp behind him, cut short by the firing of a few shots. Bachiit moved quickly upon hearing the gasp, meaning he was able to avoid most of the shots. Luckily for him, the shot that didn’t miss happened to hit his armour, which had…no effect.
He lifted his arm in front of his head as he turned, facing the lone human that had fired at him. Even if he was cloaked, it didn’t stop others from seeing the impact of his landing, and in active movement, the very air seemed to shift in place.
The human was not one of the hunters who had taken up base in this area, but did seem rather equipped, from what Bachiit could observe. Still, it was a lone human with little preparation, who had attacked Bachiit first. And he was not one to run.
Flaring his mandibles, Bachiit deactivated his cloak and dove forwards, drawing his wrist blades. The surprise caught the man off guard, and he seemed to not have been well trained - that, or it was Bachiit pushing the man over. Humans may be crafty. But in the battle of physical strength, Yautja often won.

The kill was easy, his wrist blades cutting through the neck rather quickly. Minimizing the human’s suffering, he was certain in making sure it was a killing blow.
And it was not a kill worthy of a prize. Bachiit would normally flay the corpse, if he had more time to spare. But to flay the body in open ground like this - he glanced around - would leave him open to attacks.
Instead, Bachiit made the decision to simply hang the body from a sturdy tree, that would be a warning of his presence. He was uncertain of showing himself just yet, but an announcement - that would do just fine.

He left the body hanging upside down on one of the stronger trees, assuming that it wouldn’t fall as soon as he turned his back.
Without spending too much time looking at it, as though it were just another ‘thing,’ Bachiit re-activated his cloak and moved away. Perhaps, if he was lucky, the kill might just bait the Blue Blood out of hiding and to where he could see it. From there, track it - learn its patterns - then strike.
Bachiit climbed yet another tree.

Ronnie scanned the area, tightening his grip on the railgun. He didn't move, but his senses were on high alert. He squeezed down on the thumb pad in his glove, and his helmet visor turned to ENVG, throwing up thermal imaging and light contours. Nothing was showing up though. He squeezed the other thumbpad and his Peltors cranked up, his hearing enhanced to the point he could hear the shifts in the air current.

There. A rustling in the trees. He snapped his head in the direction of the offending tree but still saw nothing in the foliage. There was a weird… Something between 2 trees, and the other tree shook slightly, but Ronnie couldn't tell what was there. Whatever it was, it was moving away, and Ronnie swallowed hard before keying his coms.

"C1E2, Vale here, I've got an unidentified contact heading towards Civilian Checkpoint 2. Tailing, please advise."

"Copy, Corporal, tail but keep your distance. I'll connect you to Ensign Davis."

"Roger." Ronnie heard another rustling and moved forward, his railgun at his shoulder. He moved to the first tree and saw nothing out of order, but as he was moving to the next one, he saw the same Something between two trees much further ahead. It was like a strange bending of the light between the trees, in a big shape. Too big for how little the tree rustled. Ronnie crouched and tagged the spot on his GPS output, so that Command could find him if he went down. He then moved quickly across the forest ground, following the rustlings. Suddenly, they stopped. He didn't see anymore light bending just then, and was about to move to the next tree, when his ENVG lit up with thermal signature. He swore in his head as a realized it was one of the local Voloshkan farmers. The Russian nationals hadn't responded too well to their livestock being killed and a whole group of heavily armed, futuristic black ops operatives moving into the woods. The Civilian Checkpoints kept track of how many Voloshkans went into the woods, and clearly, this guy had come looking to kill something. He had a shotgun and appeared to be wearing something similar to camo or light body armor or… something.

There was a thud, a soft noise but incredibly loud on Ronnie's Peltors. The farmer was near a spot where the light suddenly bent again, and he gasped before firing the shotgun several times. The Peltors muted the sound of the gun, but now Ronnie could see the farmer scrambling backwards from something. He turned off the ENVG and pulled his railgun up, prepping to run in, when the light stopped bending.

And morphed into something hideous.

Easily 7' tall. Bipedal humanoid. Bodybuilder muscular. Mostly green. Thick dreadlocks. Functional cloaking. Bristling with weaponry. Covered in armor.

And already decapitating the farmer.

Ronnie froze as he remembered he had no backup in the area at all. His coms clicked softly, and relief flooded him. Command was watching and had seen what he was seeing.

The massive creature picked up the farmer and looked around. Ronnie instinctively started to duck but managed to keep from moving at all. He knew if the creature had any kind of sensor it would see him, but he could hope in the middle of battle it wasn't paying close attention.

It strung up the farmer from the nearest tree.

Ronnie watched every gristly second, knowing if he looked away, command wouldn't have the video logs to analyze. He tracked its movement, did his best to get trees in the shot to show scale, and occasionally zoomed in on things he thought were important. Wrist blades, for instance. What looked like quills. The face, which might be armor.

And then it just… cloaked. The light bent and it was gone, except for the rustling of a nearby tree.

Ronnie waited a decent length of time, listening as the rustling moved farther off, before turning and sprinting back towards HQ. He wasn't a runner but the adrenaline made him soar. The critter didn't chase him down and kill him, so that was good.

At least Command knew he wasn't crazy now. Something else was out here.

And it might be out of their league.

Bachiit moved through the tree some more. He had returned to a spot that he visited before. While he hadn’t spotted the Blue Blood here, he was certain it had been here at some point - the signs of something piercing the bark of some of the trees could be seen. It wasn’t random - and it was done intentionally, with enough force to make a considerable dip in the bark.
Just like Bachiit, the Blue Blood also enjoyed travelling through trees, which made this prey all the more dangerous.
He turned away from the tree, looking around some more. Signs - Bachiit hoped to find the beast’s lair at some point. There was another trap, but this one was of different design - and it was older. Someone had placed this trap long ago and had forgotten about it. Most likely before the Blue Blood came around, Bachiit assumed, looking at the wear on the ground trap.

He took a closer look at the trees, spotting bullet holes. A confrontation happened here, then. Relatively recent, he gathered, but before he arrived. Bachiit pulled away and took to the trees once more. He would do a few more rounds around the area, and then maybe set some more traps, or adjust already existing ones.

---

In the distance, the Blue Blood surfaced from seemingly the ground, its stone blue scales dotted with dirt and brambles. Further inspection would reveal a tunnel however - and the Blue Blood turned, moving shrubbery over top of it.
With a low growl, the Blue Blood began to move, slowly increasing its pace until it began to climb the trees. While it overshadowed most things beneath it, the Blue Blood moved quickly, frightening a small group of birds into the air as it moved. One bird was too late to takeoff - and the Blue Blood’s tendrils launched forwards, capturing what could be considered a very small snack for itself.
The birds continued to fly, away from the Blue Blood.

Ronnie ran up to the picket line, trying to calm his racing heart. The pickets had no mercy.

"Hold!" A round bit the tree behind him, whizzing up over his head. "Identify yourself."

He hit the brakes, sliding slightly in the dirt. "Corporal Vale, Revenant, stand down! Tim, it's me."

Corporal Tim Garcia stepped forward. He was completely blended into the bark of the tree he was standing against, and the effect was like seeing the trunk split. Ronnie flinched slightly as the 6'9" ex-Ranger revealed himself, much nearer than Ronnie had expected.

"Vale, the #$%^ are you doing sprinting up on my picket position?" The big man kept his gun pointed over Ronnie's shoulder, obviously expecting some attack.

"Tim, we're not under attack, it's just…" Ronnie swallowed as he tried to figure out some other answer than the truth. Tim cocked his head to the side, waiting for a response, so Ronnie sighed and spit it out. "I was running scared."

Corporal Garcia nodded. "Hey, everybody gets spooked their first mission." He turned his head again, listening to his coms, before gesturing at Ronnie. "Command wants you inside, Vale. Better keep running. I'll let the sentries know you're coming."

Ronnie nodded and jogged towards camp. He glanced back and Tim was gone, melting back into the tree. It reminded Ronnie of how the critter had just… disappeared, and he shuddered.

By the time he got into camp, all of senior leadership and the analysts were examining his footage. The sentries had waved him through, and he was being directed toward Captain Allen's mobile bunker- "The Tent" as the men called it.

When he stepped inside, he could see the footage he'd captured thrown up on several screens. The various analysts were working on getting measurements against background elements, tracking movement speed, checking footfall impacts to determine weight, and checking the critter against the Division's database. The database held info on all of the creatures and cryptids the Trophy Hunters had been called on to contain, as well as worldwide rumors.

"Corporal Vale!" Ronnie looked up to see Lieutenant Ramos beckoning him over. "Join us."

The officers were around a holo-table, essentially a big touchscreen, with a map of the area wide open. As Ronnie glanced at it, he could see his GPS pings marked where he'd dropped them, as well as the various rally points, civilian checkpoints, snares, known contacts, and the picket circle.

Lt. Jameson laid a hand on his shoulder. "You good, Revenant?"

Ronnie nodded, the collective name reminding him who he was. "Yes sir."

"Good." Captain Allen himself piped up from head of the table. "I've been briefed on your recent report. Do you think this is the same creature, Corporal?"

Ronnie swallowed and nodded. "Yes, sir, I believe it's the right dimensions for the ship I saw."

Allen grunted. "Remind us why we didn't believe you?"

Ronnie was a little confused by the question, but responded anyway. "Sir… I'm brand new. Fresh out of the grave, and I didn't have my ENVG on, so there was no footage. Others heard the noises but they could be explained by other things, and we already have one critter out in these woods, so the likelihood of a second is statistically low."

Allen had a serious look on his face. "Valid reasons. But you got your proof." He stood up and beckoned one of the analysts over. "How long were you tailing this monstrosity?"

Ronnie spent the next half hour detailing his snare trip.

---

"All units, copy by click, repeat, copy by click, proceed."

The mass communications went out, sounding in every helmet. Every Revenant either clicked with their glove controls, or verbally clicked. The entire 100 headcount came up as present, and the coms tech nodded.

"This is Captain Allen, keep your coms lines open for a moment, but maintain radio silence. This mass com is to let you all know that there's a 5th element in these woods. Target, Revenants, civilians, wildlife, and now a potential second target. We'll refer to this element as "Critter" for now, till we have a better lock."

Every helmet received a visual of the creature Ronnie had seen, spinning in the corner of their visor.

"Critter is clearly sapient, and has proved hostile to humans, but only upon provocation. Critter possesses advanced cloaking, much superior to what we're able to field. Weaponry is untested at this point, other than blades from the arms, but as always, men, assume if we have a weapon, they have a counter. We've got microwave rifles, they might thrive on microwaves. We have plasma ejecting rounds, they may be fireproof. Do not attempt to fire on this creature without mission approval. The Critter has shown a preference for arboreal travel, so stay out of the branches."

A scheduling table popped up, with some sections highlighted. "Also, some of our snares have been tampered with, and it is believed this Critter may be behind that as well. The new snare check schedule is here, as well as moving our pickets to 2 hour shifts rather than 4. Stay alert, do not let your guard down, and remember that this Critter is not our target. If an opportunity comes where we need to prioritize, always bump the target to the top of your personal hit list. The Blue Blood is still our main mission objective."

A map location popped up, the GPS ping blinking. "Last point. Retrieval Team, there's a civilian body at this location. Retrieve carefully. Do not engage the Critter if it shows up, and seek mission approval before engaging the target. The body is strung from a tree. Apparently this Critter of ours likes to send messages. We're not trying to send one back by getting in a fight, but out of respect for the dead, lets get that Russian down. Allen out."

The men all clicked acknowledgment.

---

Ronnie had asked to be Retrieval Team's sniper. Lt. Jameson had tried to get him to go rest, but it was mid afternoon, and Ronnie was keyed up. Captain Allen had approved his request, so now here he was, staring down the scope of his Bushmaster BA50, watching the team cut down the body.

There was so much blood.

He pulled his head back for a second, as the image of the farmer's head hitting the ground junmped unbidden into his mind. The Critter had been so… just so Efficient, Ronnie was feeling equal parts horror and admiration.

Something caught his attention way off to the side of the team. He quickly put his eye back up to the scope and swung the gun over.

There. The Blue Blood had startled a flock of birds a ways away, and was eating one.

It didn't seem to have seen Retrieval Team yet, but it was walking in the right direction.

"Ensign Roland, this is Corporal Vale, I have visual on the target, approaching your position, copy?"

"Copy, Vale, how long?"

Ronnie took a second to estimate. "You got about 60 seconds."

"Acknowledged. Command says engage if necessary, whatcha packin'?

Ronnie checked his ammo pack. "I'm carrying incendiary rounds, as well as armor piercing. We can try again with the conventional rounds."

Ens. Roland hesitated. "You got anything bigger? Those rounds didn't do much the last time."

Ronnie smiled as he opened his second ammo pack. "I've got compressed plasma rounds, as well as density collapsed deuterium. You ok with those?"

"Roger, Corporal. Fire at will."

"Copy that." Ronnie settled a little lower into his perch on the side of a ridge. He could see Retrieval Team moving faster, trying to get the body situated and search the area for clues about the Critter, and he could see the Blue Blood approaching.

He took a deep breath and settled his crosshairs on the target.

The Blue Blood showed no signs of stopping in its approach, intending to investigate the commotion it detected earlier. Even if the Blue Blood had been warded off previously, the ‘humans’ were never successful at causing it dangerous injuries. Therefore, the Blue Blood was not shy in that aspect.
While it did not have the strongest sense of smell, at this distance, it was easier for it to detect living beings. The Blue Blood took note of slight movement in front of it, its eyes more well suited to perceiving movement in its vision. Lowering its head, the Blue Blood continued in a straight line, and slightly increased its speed.

---

The birds had not gone unnoticed to Bachiit. He had hunted many types of prey - this was a sign familiar to him. The birds got spooked by something moving quickly, probably something big. He focused on the birds for a few seconds, then looked at the direction they came from, pinpointing the creature’s general location. From here, he could not predict the exact direction that it would go.
But he had the safe bet of forwards - towards the direction the birds were previously fleeing. Which would roughly put him at the corpse - and another idea appeared, that perhaps the Blue Blood was attracted to fresh kills. It was only a theory - one that Bachiit would have to see in action to determine the truth of it. And in order to see it in action, he’d need to get a move on.
Bachiit made a swift turn, backtracking. He hadn’t gone far; it did not take him long to stumble into the general area, of which he slowed down quickly, spotting multiple humans now investigating the site. Crouched in a tree, Bachiit waited, readying his weaponry - considering what to use.

"Target has acknowledged your presence, Ensign. Get outta there." Ronnie could tell the Blue Blood had noticed the team when it lowered its head. There was a sense of purpose in its movement now.

"Good to go down here. Keep it off our tail, Corporal." Ens. Roland sounded out of breath, and Ronnie knew they would be heading out of the area at a jog. They had to carry the body, but there were 6 of them, so they could jog and pass the body off and keep from getting tired before crossing the picket line.

Even so, the Blue Blood was big and moving quickly. It could still catch them.

He squeezed off the first round.

At around 1000 meters from the target, it was a midrange shot for Ronnie. He watched through his scope as a full second passed, before the armor piercing round hit the target square in the body. Just like before, it didn't do much.

So he fired off the incendiary round.

Wait a second. Watch the round go off in the Blue Blood's face.

A slight flinch but again, no real damage.

So he quickly switched magazines, and this time when he squeezed the trigger, the Bushmaster sent a compressed plasma round towards the target.

Compressed plasma rounds were still cutting edge, and Ronnie always enjoyed watching them go off. They were like incendiary rounds, except, instead of a fireball when they made impact, they would erupt into a directed stream of superheated plasma. They were pretty effective on most targets.

Ronnie wasn't sure how the Blue Blood would react.

The next round he had loaded was a density collapsed deuterium round. As a localized nuclear explosion, getting hit with one of those felt like getting punched directly in the face by the sun. If the compressed plasma round didn't work, he was pretty sure the DCD would, but… you could never be sure with cryptids.

By this point the Blue Blood had reached the site, and Ronnie kept his crosshairs trained on it.

He didn't notice the light shimmering in the tree as he fired the DCD.

@Mojack (bump)

((Really sorry for dropping off the radar there! Things have been a little difficult lately. Also, your replies are great!))

The Blue Blood pulled its tendrils back, maintaining its current speed. From each step into the bark came a considerable thud - small shrapnel of wood thrown outwards. Shots that hit the Blue Blood barely caused a reaction. Perhaps, only a few milliseconds worth of one as it briefly flinched, but not enough to damage it.
The Blue Blood shrieked when the compressed plasma round hit - and that seemed to cause a bit more of a reaction, causing it to stop running between trees for a few seconds. It reared back, then dropped to the ground, taking some weaker branches with it. Yet even if the round caused it to falter, there was no visible signs of injury - and the Blue Blood kept charging, this time on the ground.

Bachiit watched the scene unfold, curious to see if any of the weapons that the humans would injure the Blue Blood. He could hear as the Blue Blood stopped moving for a few seconds - then quickly resumed.
He continued to wait for an opportunity.

The Blue Blood regained its earlier pace, growling lowly as it ran. It seemed unstoppable in its charge - and the Blue Blood seemed to think so too, barely changing direction as it moved in a straight line towards where the shots had been fired. It was expecting to get hit.
It was not expecting to get hit by the DCD.
The Blue Blood seemed to spot the round before it was hit, and slowed down by the slightest amount, lowering itself to expose where its armour was thickest. If it had been one of the previous rounds, it would probably have barely had an effect - but it was not.
No, the DCD exploded when it hit, stopping the Blue Blood in its tracks as it shrieked again, louder this time - and not just a shriek of surprise, but one of…
Pain.

Bachiit saw the entire thing, noting the use of plasma rounds before - and then the switch to a new type of ammo. That seemed more effective. Bachiit moved upwards, trying to get a better angle on the Blue Blood, who’d been obscured from view due to the DCD exploding. And considering that the Blue Blood was cold blooded, infrared would not assist him.
He crouched, a bit higher in the trees now.

When the smoke cleared, the Blue Blood was still standing, and most of its back armour was still intact. But between small cracks in its armour - blood was visible. And the sheer heat of the explosion managed to burn through thinner scales.

Bachiit could see now - that they caused the Blue Blood to bleed. Clicking his own mandibles together, he watched as the Blue Blood steadied itself, and with another low growl, reared up and roared. A battle cry, perhaps.

The Blue Blood started to run again. It had been hurt, but its current injuries were not fatal. And it was close. Close to the attacker.
There was a sharp whistling - not a human whistle, not a bird, just something else entirely - as a sharp object flung forth, landing right in one of the Blue Blood’s leg burns. It seemed to be some sort of metal short spear.
The Blue Blood stumbled, letting out a short roar of surprise. And when it turned - it could not see anything. Until…

Bachiit revealed himself, sitting in the trees a little ways away from the Blue Blood. Light shimmered and shrank as it showed his form, one of his arms raised. He had chosen one of his weapons, a speargun. Mounted on his arm for easier use.
The Blue Blood stomped some of its feet to the ground and snarled, thrashing wildly before lowering its head to yank the spear and discard it to the side. It now knew that it did not have one attacker, but two - and potentially more.

(hey! you're ok, I just bumped it so it wouldn't get lost and so you'd remember whenever you had time. Sorry stuff has been hard :/ and thanks! I appreciate that. yours as well, I'm never sure what to expect and that's fun!)

Ronnie watched as the plasma round slowed the Blue Blood, but didn't really hurt it. He closed his eyes when the DCD made impact, but he could tell the difference in reaction.

"Ensign, confirmed, DCD rounds cause noticeable damage, repeat, DCD rounds affective. If you change vectors back to base I should be able to keep the target from engaging."

"Roger, Corporal, updating the MO now." Ensign Roland would make sure the entire base knew to use DCD's in their weapons, at a minimum. They could pull out gravity or magnetic rounds if they had to, but if enough DCD's would do the trick, that was fine.

Ronnie watched through his scope as the Blue Blood oriented itself in his direction now, instead of after the squad. Time to go, then. He quickly scrambled backwards, loading another DCD round into the Bushmaster as he went, before standing and lining up a shot. He'd run when it went off.

He had his scope up when the Blue Blood sprouted something from its leg in a spray of blood. It looked like a spear, or something. A shimmering caught his attention and he moved to cover as he saw the light bend to reveal the Critter. He made sure his scope was recording the data again, transmitting it to command.
He hunkered down to watch, keeping his weapon trained, knowing if things went south, he might have to try to slow down both parties.

Not a happy prospect.