DragonRage

"I feel a sudden urge to, before we visit the king, blindfold that doll so it cannot witness what occurs," Rachel asserts, "Before, I did not trust it because I thought it a daemon. Now, I do not trust it because it is a craven, bloodthirsty thing with no conception of mercy."

"One down," Rachel holsters her Inferno Pistols, and surveys the remaining dog creatures. They... seem to be under control for the moment, so she decides to not mess up what's working.

"Ha! Got one!" And with... acceptable collateral damage. "Emperor, guide my shots." Rachel attempts to counterattack and disarm Doggo again, hoping to neutralize this threat entirely. He's certainly acting like he needs those knives in order to use his attack.

The Child is moving. Based on what happened last time, moving is clearly not advisable. The knife-wielding creature will attack whoever moves. However... When the knife-wielding creature attacks with its knives, its movements become predictable. Sister Rachel draws her Inferno Pistols, points them at the Doggo, and waits. When he raises his knives to swing, she'll attempt to blast them into slag with the melta beams. Being microwave lasers, they can be very precise. And if she misses and hits his hands, well, it won't kill him and he has demonstrated intent to at least seriously injure

"The previous canine creature did not seem like a particularly reasonable individual," Rachel points out, "We may have to fend these creatures off somehow." Without slaying them. Hm. Sister Rachel activates Triage to get a bonus action for healing, and applies Feel No Pain to Ignia, reasoning that her attack will make her a priority target. Ignia gains two stacks of Guts and a mildly traumatic experience with needles! Then she turns to the Child, and uses Chirurgeon's Treatment to treat the Child's stun. She automatically reaches for her needles again, but she's seen enough

"Let them track us if they wish," Rachel scoffs, "They will not stop us."

Rachel keeps walking, expecting that as usual the rest of the group will catch up when they're ready.

"I don't think I'd trust the cooking of something that likely can't taste anyways," Rachel muses, already walking onward.

"Jumbles are often assigned to first year initiates to help their reading comprehension and vocabulary, while crosswords are assigned in the third year," Sister Rachel shares helpfully, "So by the educational standards of the Imperium of Man, crosswords are considered more challenging."

"I see," Rachel walks over to join Arminius by Sans, "Well, present your test then. They have not been an unacceptable hindrance thus far," And privately, she's beginning to suspect that the skeleton brothers are a lot more important than they let on. Best to humor them, at least for now.

"Congradulations, Toriel," Rachel levers herself upright, fits her gauntlets back on, and starts collecting her arsenal of weapons once more, hooking her medicae and jump pack on last. "You've taken responsibility for the leadership of a self-destructive moron. Welcome to the Imperial Guard."

Rachel carefully listens to everything Toriel says. She blinks a few times, processing it. And then she flops back against the snow, heedless of her armor and the cold, staring blankly upwards. "Do you know, Toriel, that we are not from this world?" She asks, "Myself, Arminius, Ignia, and our companions elsewhere. We left our own worlds, for various reasons. Myself? I died. After sixty years of service on the front lines, the damned Tyranids finally took me down. And the God-Emperor rescued me, and sent me to join this team, for my work was not yet done. I tell you this, because it i

"For such an achievement as the ability to restore a damaged soul, I would martyr myself without regret," Sister Rachel states, "But if there is a path that doesn't involve my demise, it would be exceptionally foolish to sacrifice myself needlessly. To waste a human life is heresy, and to be avoided. And I would like to think I have not yet exhausted the good I might do for humanity."

"His soul is- And he's still alive? That would explain his odd state of existence," Rachel sighs, looking back to her hands, "Psyker. You can take essences from one to another, correct? I know not how much love, hope, or compassion might still linger in my heart, but... If you can repair one soul, then... Might it be possible that..." She gazes up at Arminius with an inscrutable, unsettled expression, "No, such things are... But..." Something tugs at the edges of her mouth. "Heh. I suppose even after so many years of war and darkness, there is still a bit of hope in me yet."

"Make him whole? How could we heal a daemon? The things just recover from whatever wounds they take in the warp and then come back twice as murderous as before. And why would we want-" Rachel shakes her head, "Right. Different world, different rules. What would this healing entail? And what effects do you think it would have? It doesn't seem that the state of his physical form seems to... bother this vile creature overmuch."

Rachel heaves a sigh. "Arminius? The bizarre daemon you claimed to have contained has possessed a doll. You're certain it's not going to escape and wreak havoc? Because I am enjoying the first moment of peace I've had in... call it fifty years? Somewhere around that. And if I have to interrupt it to purge a possessed psyker I once considered a valued ally, I will be cross."

Rachel sits heavily next to her pile of weapons, staring down at her very pale hands. She runs a finger across the scar bisecting the web between her right thumb and the rest of the hand, eyes distant.

"I... I don't know if..." Rachel trails off, staring down at the ball, having allowed the child to push her over to it. Then slowly, almost as if she's practically forgotten how, she unlatches her gauntlets and medicae, and sets them aside, along with each of her weapons, one by one, and her jump pack. Carrying only her inferno pistols holstered at her waist, she picks up one of the golf clubs, and working from long ago memories, takes a somewhat uncertain stance. She raises the club, and gives the ball a careful tap towards the first hole.

"Golf? Ah, for kinder, brighter times," Rachel sighs, lost in long-ago memories. Of a time before the battlefields, before the Guard. When neophyte Hospitaller Sister Rachel served a small farming community on a peaceful agri-world, treating cuts, bruises, and the occasional broken bone. She looks down at her gauntleted hands, the ceramite still stained by the blood of thousands of guardsmen and xenos to fall under her blades and scalpels to heal or harm, and the soot of more heretics and abominations than she'd care to count. "It has been... so long... since I have seen such frivolities

"Yeah, no sense standing around when there's evil to vanquish," Lexiel agrees, following close behind Mitsu, "Let's get dangerous."

Once his eyes are submerged, Gozer almost immediately spots a sunken temple, rough stonework encrusted with coral, barnacles, and other marine life. This has got to be where the Toa Stone is. Off near the mouth of the bay, nowhere near the temple, a pair of strange reptiles engage in a boxing match, pounding at each other's bulky torsos and unmasked faces with great enthusiasm.

"Might I suggest selling hot products in a cold place, or cold products in a hot place?" Rachel suggests to the vendor, "I would have happily paid double price for a piping hot groxburger during that tour on that Emperor-forsaken iceball Tetris Seven, or for ice cream when we campaigned on that desert tomb world, and got stuck with a rhino APC with a busted cabin climate control."

"Nice cream..." Rachel raises an eyebrow at the concept, "You are aware that it is rather cold and snowy here, and that the name of your product sounds rather like ice cream, something people rarely want to eat when it was cold? If what you are attempting to sell is not in fact a frozen dessert, I might advise a rebranding, to make your product more inviting to customers."

"Yeah, sure, why not," Vitor nods at Lucien, "If nothing else we can get a finger on the local vibes, figure out how things are going on around here. I mean, if you can't get a latte for a reasonable price, that's usually indicator number one that civilization's on the verge of collapse, am I right?" ------------------------------------------ "Ugh. He's primping?" Mirri leans against a nearby wall and polarizes her visor, "Wake me up when he's done beautifying himself. I promise I won't bite if you poke me. Probably."

Rachel stops in surprise as Papyrus gets zapped instead of her. "The Emperor protects?" She ventures questioningly, taking the orbs from Papyrus mostly on autopilot as she goes through a brief moment of 'wtf'. She gives Sans a brief 'are you serious man' look as she examines the device... Huh. This is some outdated technology, if in reasonably good condition. Not sorcery at all. But it still has a machine-spirit, and that spirit is reasonably cooperative... "I wonder..." Rachel reaches into her pack and comes up with a plastic tongue depressor, which she slips between the battery and