IC II: DH The Purity of Sacrifice

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Chaos devoured the antechamber of the beautiful manse, the walls of sky blue and intricate paintings baring witness to pandemonium and violence.

First, the trigger: that gout of flame. The curtain of heat washed over Marcella's skin as her mind quickly surmised that the fecal matter had indeed hit the fan. Arl, reacting quicker than anyone, withdrew his pistol, took careful aim and put a shot into Drimmles arm, the rich bureaucrat screaming in pain but not injured sufficiently to drop the detonator. This required a split decision from Marc. She should have run for cover, as Hound and Orla smartly did, but she knew that bomb above their heads was too big a threat: it had to be neutralised, and she was the only one who could do it. And so she had reached her mind out to scramble the local machine spirits; strings drawn across the walls, through the floor and threaded about the ceiling, as well as gripped and handled by the assailants before them, and into that web her psyche reached - its tentacles slithering around the heavy stubber gripped by the fat mutant, and the bomb dangling above their heads. The feelers searched for those crisis points, the singular positions where a well-placed snip would disable the device, if only for a little while, and they found it.

But the bomb fell anyway.

As that small warhead detached from the ceiling with a nightmarish Clink! and started to plummet, Marc's face drew into a rictus of horror. Her mouth was wide open and her body seized with a fear the likes of which she rarely felt. The world seemed to slow down as that cap fell...and fell...and fell...only to indent itself in the beautiful marble floor, a spiderweb of cracks splitting out from its point of impact, rendering the warhead the centre of a network of fissures.

It didn't explode.

The Psyker stared for another second, mouth and eyes wide open before the realisation washed over her. She'd done it! She'd disabled the damn thing, it was a dud! A dud! Marc could have done a little dance of happiness, but an abrupt burning agony erupted from her stomach as Drimmle caught her with a shot from his laspistol.

"Argh!" the Psyker hissed, suddenly yanked back into the moment, "arshole!"

Her gloved hand moving to the newly created seared mark on her tummy, Marcella winced from the hot pain shooting through her nervous system, along with the anguish of knowing the scar that would remain meant bye-bye summer bikini body.

Trusting that Arl knew that they needed Drimmle alive, Marc summoned her mental energies again, drawing them together and blasting them out at her targets...


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OOC:

See OOC thread for which one she casts.
If the bomb is a dud, she casts Soul Killer (a full round action) on Fat Man and directs some shards to Shriek.
If the bomb is only a dud for this round, then she moves around the corner and casts Dominate on Drimmle, getting 4 successes in an Opposed Willpower roll.