Categories > Movies > Pitch Black > Onyx
a/n: Ryn wanted a Pitch Black/Riddick fic. Well she got one. First chapter takes place a year before Riddick.
warnings: Violence, death, OoC, AU, Wulfy takes many liberties with Chronicles of Riddick.
disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black or Chronicles of Riddick. I do own Ryn Starbringer. She is my own demented creation.
Death was the only option for the race of people who enslaved her body for four long years. They had some how locked her within her mind, while they controlled her body as a mindless drone built for war. The many nations of Valtar fought for control of their "weapon." But those battles weren't full-blown wars. They were more like annual tournaments, where each nation would send their best warriors into the arean. The last one standing won her for their country until the next tournament.
She was used in petty squabbles against the "lesser" tribes with a nation's district. She caused so much death and blood shed that it was surprising that the small planet wasn't an over-run graveyard.
There would come a time when she'd break free from their control over her body. When that day comes, and it will come, she means to bath in their blood and listen to the shrieks of horror and unending pain of the ones who had enslaved her. They would meet their end by her hands. Until that time came, she'd spend her time locked away deep within her mind.
Four years were too long of a time to without the freedom of your own body.
-------:)ChAoS!(:-------------
That day came quick and without warning. Her day of freedom had come with the arrival of the Necromongers.
As always the Valtarian's didn't hesitate to use their weapon, unknown to them their weapon was attacking the mental barriers that kept her from having control of her body. One by one, while their main attention were on the invading force, she tore her way into the minds of the telepaths that had had her bound for years. One by one, each died a nightmarish death within their own minds. None of their previous mental shields were a match for her rage that had four years to build up and grow in power.
Even if she was locked away in her mind, she wasn't idle.
-------:)DeAtH!(:-----------
Lord Marshall couldn't believe that his army was being defeated and driven back by a backwater planet's army with primative weaponary. But the impossible was happening, his army was being defeated. It was mostly due because of a 5'1" young woman with empty jade green eyes.
She was cutting through his troops like a hot knife through butter. She was dropping them one by one, sometimes three by three. She was a blur of white and blue slowly being drenched in the dark, cold blood of his Necromonger army.
As suddenly as she began to kill his armada, she stopped; just stopped. Where she was once a machinical whirlwind of violence and death, she was now a still statue frozen in time. The Necromongers that had surrounded her, in hope that sheer numbers would overwhelm her, froze also but in confusion. They weren't dead. She didn't promote them to full-dead.
They were unsure on whether they should attack her or just wait until she attacked them once more. None stepped forward, nor did any step back. They didn't even move a hair of an inch.
All nearly jumped out of their armor when she suddenly threw her head back and laughed. She laughed a laugh that wasn't all together sane. It was a laugh full of repressed anger, insanity, and overwhelming thirst for blood. It was enough to make every Necromonger withing hearing distance quake with fear.
Unconsciously, the fearless warriors held their breaths, hoping that they won't draw her attention back on them. Something in her laughter and the suddenly returned life in her eyes suggested that they wouldn't be going to the Underverse when they die.
All let out a collective sigh of relief, when she whirled around and darted off in the direction of the native army. The Lord Marshall's armada was frozen in their tracks as the female that was killing them was now killing her own people. She had turned against her own army.
And what she did to her own army made what she did to the Necromongers seem like a walk through a dandilion field. She was tearing through them like their weapons and armor were nothing but children's toys. Some she out right killed, while the others were dying long, drawn-out pain-filled deaths. She ripped heads off with her bare hands, tore out throats with her teeth, broke arms and legs with cruel intent, and tore open stomaches.
Then the very impossible happened, she began to change. The young female breeder was 5'1" and had waist length snow white hair with navy blue bangs. She had jade green eyes and lightly tanned skin. On her face she had two dark blue stripes on each cheek. She was petite with a cat-like build, and had a 7' long, white cat-like tail with navy blue stripes. She once wore dark, flimsy armor, but she had got rid of it the moment she turned against her people. Now all she wore was a black shirt, black pants, and black boots.
Her hair began to change colors. It was growing darker and darker until it was all black. Her body stretched and bulked out, and her bones shifted and lengthened. Her clothes started to burst as she grew bigger and bigger. Thick black fur began to grow all over her body. Her tail got bushier and longer, and the fur turned black. Her hands sprouted claws and her boots stretched out and broke apart as her feet became massive, black paws. Her face lengthened out into a long, broad muzzle filled with razor-sharp teeth. Her human ears disappeared and large furry, triangular shaped ones appeared on top of her head.
When her transformation ended, she was a wolf creature over 7' tall with a 9' long tail. She was capable of running on two legs as well as four.
Her transformation had taken place while she was busy attacking her own people. She showed her arm no mercy. She killed with fang and claws as well as sword and the occasional stolen Necromonger gun. She wasted over 5,000 men and women with in two minutes. It didn't help that these people weren't true warriors.
When she was out of sight, the Necromongers, that she had original started out fighting, let out another collective sigh of relief. They looked towards their commanders who were recieving orders from their Lord Marshall.
"Fall back to the city's capital." their commanders rasped, "Our Lord Marshall said it's time to replenish the ranks."
----------(O.o)------------
Wulf: To keep going or not to keep going that is the question.
Ryn: Keep going!
Wulf:>
warnings: Violence, death, OoC, AU, Wulfy takes many liberties with Chronicles of Riddick.
disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black or Chronicles of Riddick. I do own Ryn Starbringer. She is my own demented creation.
Death was the only option for the race of people who enslaved her body for four long years. They had some how locked her within her mind, while they controlled her body as a mindless drone built for war. The many nations of Valtar fought for control of their "weapon." But those battles weren't full-blown wars. They were more like annual tournaments, where each nation would send their best warriors into the arean. The last one standing won her for their country until the next tournament.
She was used in petty squabbles against the "lesser" tribes with a nation's district. She caused so much death and blood shed that it was surprising that the small planet wasn't an over-run graveyard.
There would come a time when she'd break free from their control over her body. When that day comes, and it will come, she means to bath in their blood and listen to the shrieks of horror and unending pain of the ones who had enslaved her. They would meet their end by her hands. Until that time came, she'd spend her time locked away deep within her mind.
Four years were too long of a time to without the freedom of your own body.
-------:)ChAoS!(:-------------
That day came quick and without warning. Her day of freedom had come with the arrival of the Necromongers.
As always the Valtarian's didn't hesitate to use their weapon, unknown to them their weapon was attacking the mental barriers that kept her from having control of her body. One by one, while their main attention were on the invading force, she tore her way into the minds of the telepaths that had had her bound for years. One by one, each died a nightmarish death within their own minds. None of their previous mental shields were a match for her rage that had four years to build up and grow in power.
Even if she was locked away in her mind, she wasn't idle.
-------:)DeAtH!(:-----------
Lord Marshall couldn't believe that his army was being defeated and driven back by a backwater planet's army with primative weaponary. But the impossible was happening, his army was being defeated. It was mostly due because of a 5'1" young woman with empty jade green eyes.
She was cutting through his troops like a hot knife through butter. She was dropping them one by one, sometimes three by three. She was a blur of white and blue slowly being drenched in the dark, cold blood of his Necromonger army.
As suddenly as she began to kill his armada, she stopped; just stopped. Where she was once a machinical whirlwind of violence and death, she was now a still statue frozen in time. The Necromongers that had surrounded her, in hope that sheer numbers would overwhelm her, froze also but in confusion. They weren't dead. She didn't promote them to full-dead.
They were unsure on whether they should attack her or just wait until she attacked them once more. None stepped forward, nor did any step back. They didn't even move a hair of an inch.
All nearly jumped out of their armor when she suddenly threw her head back and laughed. She laughed a laugh that wasn't all together sane. It was a laugh full of repressed anger, insanity, and overwhelming thirst for blood. It was enough to make every Necromonger withing hearing distance quake with fear.
Unconsciously, the fearless warriors held their breaths, hoping that they won't draw her attention back on them. Something in her laughter and the suddenly returned life in her eyes suggested that they wouldn't be going to the Underverse when they die.
All let out a collective sigh of relief, when she whirled around and darted off in the direction of the native army. The Lord Marshall's armada was frozen in their tracks as the female that was killing them was now killing her own people. She had turned against her own army.
And what she did to her own army made what she did to the Necromongers seem like a walk through a dandilion field. She was tearing through them like their weapons and armor were nothing but children's toys. Some she out right killed, while the others were dying long, drawn-out pain-filled deaths. She ripped heads off with her bare hands, tore out throats with her teeth, broke arms and legs with cruel intent, and tore open stomaches.
Then the very impossible happened, she began to change. The young female breeder was 5'1" and had waist length snow white hair with navy blue bangs. She had jade green eyes and lightly tanned skin. On her face she had two dark blue stripes on each cheek. She was petite with a cat-like build, and had a 7' long, white cat-like tail with navy blue stripes. She once wore dark, flimsy armor, but she had got rid of it the moment she turned against her people. Now all she wore was a black shirt, black pants, and black boots.
Her hair began to change colors. It was growing darker and darker until it was all black. Her body stretched and bulked out, and her bones shifted and lengthened. Her clothes started to burst as she grew bigger and bigger. Thick black fur began to grow all over her body. Her tail got bushier and longer, and the fur turned black. Her hands sprouted claws and her boots stretched out and broke apart as her feet became massive, black paws. Her face lengthened out into a long, broad muzzle filled with razor-sharp teeth. Her human ears disappeared and large furry, triangular shaped ones appeared on top of her head.
When her transformation ended, she was a wolf creature over 7' tall with a 9' long tail. She was capable of running on two legs as well as four.
Her transformation had taken place while she was busy attacking her own people. She showed her arm no mercy. She killed with fang and claws as well as sword and the occasional stolen Necromonger gun. She wasted over 5,000 men and women with in two minutes. It didn't help that these people weren't true warriors.
When she was out of sight, the Necromongers, that she had original started out fighting, let out another collective sigh of relief. They looked towards their commanders who were recieving orders from their Lord Marshall.
"Fall back to the city's capital." their commanders rasped, "Our Lord Marshall said it's time to replenish the ranks."
----------(O.o)------------
Wulf: To keep going or not to keep going that is the question.
Ryn: Keep going!
Wulf:>
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