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Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Blackwell
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Blackwell

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~⌡Doral⌠~


“Gross,” Kat stated unapologetically as the group entered Doral. The town was a seedy, muddy hole that reeked of fish and filth. It was a very underwhelming sight that brought Kat down from the high victory had given her. The rain only made the place worse. Most of the inhabitants slinked along the roads going about their dreary lives. Perhaps she was being overly judgmental, but she doubted she was very far off.

The friends split up after realizing they’d need to wait a bit before they could board their ride. Kat wandered off on her own, deciding to stay near the docks. It had been awhile since she had been so near the ocean, so she wanted to take it in a bit. Kat found a spot on the docks that afforded her legs enough room for her to be able to sit on the edge without getting too wet from the crashing waves.

A deep breath escaped her lips as she stared out at the dark expanse of water. The rain was coming down hard, splashing loudly against the waves. The ocean, even as violent as it seemed at the moment, always made her feel at peace. Even before her spirits found her, she still loved the sea. As a kid, she used to always want to play pirates or mermaids or something. Sam made sure that the group did something like this every so often.

Kat, not eager to get hypothermia from sitting out in the cold rain, had been redirecting the rain around her since it started. But doing so for long periods of time eventually became difficult. As with all things, her spirits were finite. It was when she felt a drop of water hit her forehead that she realized they needed a break. At least, if they were sentient, they were considerate enough to warn her with one drop instead of just stopping all at once.

“Fuck...” she said quietly to herself as she stood. She didn’t really want to go any deeper into the town but she had to find somewhere to keep dry until their boat showed up. Luckily, she didn’t need to go far. An inn close to the docks had a decent overhang above the door and the porch that wrapped around the front of the building. Kat escaped under it and allowed her spirits the rest they desired. She leaned against the building’s wall and listened as the rain pattered overhead against the metal roof. It was a calming sound, very constant.

Time seemed to slow as Kat closed her eyes and let the world around her melt away. It was during these moments that nothing seemed to matter. The war that was raging, the rain that was falling, none of it was real, at least for a little. It was during these moments that Kat felt at peace.

When she finally opened her eyes, she met the gaze of another. Small, dark eyes stared up at her from the ground. Light brown fur covered the body of her observer, wet and dirty. Kat smiled and kneeled down, extending a hand to the dog that sat silently in front of her. The dog was apprehensive, but eventually waddled forward and sniffed her hand. Apparently he decided she wasn’t a threat because the next moment he was bounding up to her and licking her face. Kat giggled as she fell back from the impact of the dog. She came to a rest against the wall with the dog in her lap, happily accepting her pets. She felt a warm streak down her right cheek and tasted salt as it reached the corner of her wide smile.

~⌡Doral⌠~


A buzz from her pocket broke her mind away from her memories. It was time to go. Her smile faded a bit, as she realized she’d have to leave her new friend behind. There was no way she could bring him along, despite wanting to.

“I’m sorry buddy, but where I’m going is even more dangerous for you than here,” she said, her voice low and calm.

The dog looked at her and whimpered as she picked him up off her lap and put him back on the ground. She grabbed her bag and pulled out some beef jerky she had packed earlier as a snack. She took a few bits out of the bag and put them on the ground in front of the dog.

“Probably not the most nutritious treat, but it’s the best I’ve got for you.”

She pet him once more behind the ear and then stood. She looked back as she walked away and smiled as he enjoyed the meat.

~⌡Boat⌠~


Upon entering the boat, Kat went directly to her room. She wasn’t hungry, and wasn’t exactly in a social mood so she decided that the best use of her time would be to rest.

They’d be facing some real shit when they get to Norton, so she thought she could use a bit of shut eye. Who knew when they’d get another chance? The room was nothing special, small and grey. It was to be expected, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t a touch disappointed. Despite her love of the ocean, she had never been a fan of boats.

Kat slipped out of her gear, placing everything neatly on the ground near her bed. She fell into the less than luxurious bed and closed her eyes.

~⌡Battle II⌠~


Kat managed to brace for the impact and stayed on the boat for a bit longer than those who hadn’t had enough time to react. She had seen their approach and tried to use her spirits to slow the boat down, but it was no use. She held onto a railing as the boat first made impact. It was only a few moments after that she herself was also flung off the deck towards the docks. She hadn’t been thrown as far as some of the others and barely made it onto the dock. Her body slammed into the side of the concrete and she held on for dear life as she slipped back towards the water. Luckily she found a hold and pulled herself up to join her friends.

She heard her orders just before chaos completely broke out. The city was already a war zone, and now where they had landed erupted into combat as well. Kat took cover with Olivia and watched as she took an opportunity to flash forward. Kat peeked over the barrier and decided to loop around, to get behind the giant mech.
She took a path by the water, gathering up a bunch with a wave of her hand. It streamed behind her as she circled around the mech. As she got in range, she saw Olivia get swatted into the wall. Wanting to make sure the mech didn’t land a second hit on her, Kat believed her best bet would be to slow the thing down. It seemed too tough for her to slice through with her ice, so this seemed like the best idea for now.

The water behind her surged forward and split into several streams as it approached the mech. The streams coiled around the mech’s appendages and tightened. Some she froze, hoping to freeze up a joint or something, while other coursed over the mech’s surface looking for a spot to seep in. If she could find a way in, she could destroy the thing’s wiring or even take out the pilot itself.

Kat was standing still, concentrating on the water. The mech didn't seem to notice her at first, perhaps Thael had distracted it, but she wasn’t sure how long that would last. Her concentration was broken for a moment as a stray bullet grazed her right shoulder, but she didn’t let that distract her. She began to move sideways, albeit slowly, in hopes of avoiding anything else coming her way.

Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Insatiable
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Insatiable 𝚁 𝙴 𝙼 𝙴 𝙳 𝚈

Member Seen 4 yrs ago



Flashback [3 days after graduation]


Eyes were intently staring at an aimless sight, seemingly towards a distant view bathed by the bright light of the late-morning sunshine. Her palms felt sweaty as she took a pleasant seat on a wooden bench located by several yards outside the academy's premises, waiting eagerly from what the phone call had promised. At first, Jyn knew the thought of remaining calm would be helpful in the process of waiting but as soon as a substantial amount of time was spent, being calm wouldn't be as advantageous as what she thought it would be. Instead of heaving thoughts of anxiety, Jyn shifted her gaze up towards the sky, mulling through how undoubtedly sublime the weather looked. She tilted her view only to take wondrous glimpses of clouds flocking high above. The sights of them alone was the one that helped Jyn feel at ease while patiently waiting, instead of pretentiously calming down.

Several minutes later, a softclutter of what seemed to be as a car's engine sound sailed through Jyn's hearing. It quickly pulled her gaze away from her fascination with the clouds as she took a sharp glimpse of the vicinity where it was being heard from. Then her eyes slightly widened as an Audi a3 came into view from the northern road, running gradually at a slow speed as it was taking its aim for a parking location. Where there were no cars busily bustling by the particular section of the road, it was easy for Jyn to identify that it was Lance Greyson's car, though she couldn't be a hundred percent sure about it. After the car parked a few meters away from where Jyn was, both of the backseat's door opened simultaneously, revealing two adults assuming to be at their fifties. As they finally brushed away from their seats and stood up, they immediately saw the person whom they were expecting to see. However, Jyn was exaggeratedly jolted with shock as this certain part of the meet up wasn't clearly what she expected.

Jyn stood from her seat and turned over in sight of her parents, waving both of her hands violently to express the joy she suddenly felt, though she must admit that there was a certain fickleness fluctuating from her spontaneous mood. Delighted smiles were drawn to both of her parents' faces as they too, exchanged waves with the same feeling being read from their shown expressions. Jyn took a jog towards the two adults then transitioned into a minor sprint as she was excited to talk to them and especially ask questions on how they ended up visiting even though Lance Greyson told that they were too busy to even give her a call.

Jyn halted her abridged sprint as she closed in, panting a bit heavily while maintaining a smiling face towards her parents. Then as soon as she regained her normal breathing, the thoughts of questioning was the first matter that came into her mind. "Wait. You two. How?!" Jyn's frequent stutter made the two chuckle gleefully. "Slow down, Jyn. One at a time" Her father calmly demanded. Although a businessman, Gordon Greyson seemed to be colored very casually in terms of appearance. Certainly, it would be understandable if it was his day off but if ever Jyn would revolve through the man's multitude of capabilities, wearing a simple polo shirt would simply be an overestimation. The man was in his golden fifties and truth to be told, his appearance wasn't quite a compatibility to his age. It's as if he never aged unable to yet, transition to the baldness norm of a particular 50-year-old man.

Jyn was still tensed with herself and the words waiting to be spoken from her mouth. She was afraid if there would be a possibility of asking the wrong questions. However, her mother's gentle caress to her shoulder instantly diminished those thoughts. "Questions later, dear. Right now, you're going to take lunch with us" The calmness of her voice was undeniably mesmerizing. The simple tone of it made Jyn utterly comfortable with her surroundings. But of course, before she wanted to talk, questions were but an obligation to ask and her mother's words wouldn't quite stop her from doing so. "Hold on for a second. Let's slow these all down shall we?" Jyn paused, sailing through the eyes of her parents before going back to thinking. "Lance told me you two were--" Before Jyn could finish her line, a blunt and audible hurl of the car's door beneath the driver's seat was heard behind, interrupting everything and everyone at once. Jyn was slightly startled but refused to turn her attention to it as she knew who caused it.

"Hey Jinny!" a very familiar voice cried from behind, aggravating Jyn with a slight pinch of annoyance.

"Lance! you didn't tell me this was going to happen" Jyn exclaimed, then turned to look at Lance Greyson. "I did tell you I have a surprise, so......Surprise!!" Jyn sighed, unable to cruise along with Lance Greyson's devious trick. "You really are an unpredictable kid."

Shortly after, Lance joined beside his parents, then altogether took a firm glance at Jyn.

"So...uh...yeah. This happened. They probably wanted to take you to lunch. But It wasn't one of my agreements, don't blame me." Lance said hurriedly, adding up to the confused expression Jyn was recently having. Still, her unyielding desire for answers remained but before she could even take another round for a hopefully successful question, Heather Greyson took her attempts away as she lent her hand on Jyn's shoulders gently. "We'll talk all of these when we get lunch. Alright? Now, I know you're really hungry from waiting our arrival, so we took reservations at a fancy restaurant just by the town."

"Uh..I'm not exactly hungr---"

"No No No...I mean, yes. Yes you are hungry and you're going inside the car right now." From Heather Greyson's gleeful expressions, Jyn could tell that there was actually a frightening side of her that she forgot to notice. Sighing, Jyn held herself and her questions, waiting for the perfect moment to ask them out completely.

Before hopping inside of the car, Jyn took one final glare to Lance Greyson then shoved the backseat's door open leaving Lance in a sheepish grin.

---To be continued---


Battle 2


Even before the boat sprung into a mass of chaotic outburst, Jyn had expected the worst things in Norton City. But during the moment when the team was sent off flying, Jyn's heart raced through a life or death sequence, unknowing the possible fate she might encounter if ever she would land on the ground safely or directly sent adrift through the deep waters, down along with the erratic creature that attacked the vessel. However, she might reconsider on drawing her breath back after she landed safely with everyone else. For a moment, she felt relieved but as soon as multiple enemy soldiers were dispatched towards the team, the abridged time for relief was out of the question.

Flicking through the knots of her wooden case, Jyn carried out her crossbow, fumbling a bit carelessly with her positioning. However, she was uncertain of where she would place herself as she haven't clearly caught the captain's order for the battle. Moments after, Jyn dropped the wooden case and pointed the scope of her crossbow to one of the storm Guard's range, hopefully heeding a warning to not move an inch closer. While no other enemy guards were drawn to Jyn, she took a quick notice of how the others were doing, thinking about any possible way to aid them.

She took a short glimpse of Emily and Roy and then after a bellowing impact which seemed to draw Jyn's attention towards the area of origin, her eyes were widened at the sight of Olivia falling to the ground. Uncertain, Jyn decided to rush to her aid with little time spared, however before she could even carry her attempts, a nearby Storm Guard (Beta) swung his elbow to jab Jyn on the back, bringing her down to the ground abruptly. Jyn grunted, brushed herself from the dirt sideways then rolled to take clear view of the Storm Guard (Beta) who was already pointing his gun directly at her.

She was unable lift her crossbow as her right arm (as well as the other) were pinned down by the Storm Guard's (Beta) feet, restraining her abilities to make an attack. Jyn tried to use her strength to release her arms but the force restrained was just heavy. Then, distorting whispers smeared inside her mind but in the current situation, such things wouldn't be of any use. However, as the whispers grew audible in her thoughts, Jyn realized it was something her spirits were conversing. There was a sudden exhilaration flowing entirely through her body, like she was rapidly gaining strength from an invisible matter. Afterwards, her right arm felt incredibly lighter and as soon she realized it was enough to lift herself, Jyn shoved the Storm Guard's (Beta) feet away from her arms, making the guard fall down the ground. Jyn tossed herself away, rolling quickly to regain her standing.

As the Storm Guard stood from his fall, Jyn pointed her weapon at the enemy's range, cautiously loading a few bolts to the crossbow's cockpit. Her spirits whirled a visible matter at her feet and at her arms. Then as the Storm Guard held his gun to trigger a shot, Jyn vaulted with a flashing speed, winding at a near spot where the Storm Guard's gun haven't pointed. Aiming, Jyn targeted the guard's right arm where the gun was held, sending a bolt to roar with the wind then pierced the target's arm successfully. She repeated the same process in her second move, springing at a rapid pace to another location, then aiming for the other arm. Once successfully hit, Jyn moved at a close range right behind the target, then fired the third and final shot to the Storm Guard's back before delivering a kick to force him to the ground.

Jyn was quite certain the guard wasn't heavily damaged since the armor they wore was fortifying their own defenses. However, it was enough for Jyn to buy some time for aid to deliver. After the Storm Guard (Beta) went down, Jyn vaulted to her estimated location which was probably the center of where the battle was taking place. Afterwards, she began to channel the energies from the spirits of time. Thin wisps of visible energies circled around her, releasing constant wave surges throughout the zone then levitating above. The flows of energy formed a makeshift dome that turned visible every few seconds, covering up a large radius of the combat field. Shortly after the channeling, a loud thunderous roar erupted, causing the visible dome to disintegrate into circular matter rapidly flowing their way towards Jyn and the rest of her companions. Once the circular matters attached themselves to their destined partner, their movements started to shift.

*

"Hey guys!!!" Jyn shouted, attempting to make her statement clear. "What you're seeing beside you will make you all extremely fast. However, those things will last only for a short period of time. So be careful!"

Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Rockette
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Rockette 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

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In the rituals of consumption, Magdalena had remained entirely subdued and pensive, idle in her dexterity and otherwise content with their improvised cuisine. Her stomach was a hollow pit akin to her soul despite every morsel she popped between her busted lips that were meandering through their healing process. She lacked the usual beneficiaries of medic contributions, but standing Guardianship proved that her process of vitality was much more hastened by mere and common comparison; the bruises were leagues of violets and blues against her sallow complexion, but the borders were already beginning to dissipate into brown and bisque blemishes. Her alms of conversation were light and concise, carefully articulate and efficient when probed further about the dark discolorations, in which she made joke about a bear and that was the end of that. It was quaint, she had to admit, but there was subtle tension that was corded tight around everyone, be it the coming battle or the shackles of their histories, she couldn’t say, but her shadow was a constant, nervous fluctuation that was subtle, but to her it spoke volumes, in which bid Magdalena to excuse herself from the homey assemblage early and finally retire to much needed sleep. She doubted that she would be fortunate enough to retain some, but, the thought of her bunk was much more appealing than retreating to her nook upon the cannon, besides she was wary of seeing It again.

Falling into sleep had been easy, it was just what she saw that made it terribly horrifying every time she succumbed, the interchange to a deep state of unconsciousness performed as a rather morbid catalyst of the same consistency every night for her. Behind laden eyes was that same constant of alabaster smoothness, the plain undisturbed by any wind her nightmarish state could conjure, the never changing scenery its self was only disturbed by the randomized flashes of ebony that were warped into strange manifestations of, for lack of a better term, dogs. They were bone-white masks and spines ridged down their backs, tails likes whips and fur constantly oozing and moving seamlessly in a hazy and hypnotic rotation. Some were deformed: heads that were eyeless, rounded like a like worms and warped with a boundless entwine of flesh that was burned and rotted; they weren't faces, just folds of skin that bled profusely. Some possessed extra limbs that dragged uselessly upon the silvery plain, extra eyes, ears, more than a singular row of teeth. One of the hound’s head was completely split open, some had human ligaments and fingers and hummed constantly with their human mouths. There was even some with the void faces of man and she could swear they bore a similarity to her mother, father, and brothers. She simply sat between them all with hands tucked around her knees, there wasn't fear in her eyes, as she was long used to their rather horrific appearances. She memorized each of their features, and she didn't cringe when one of the shadowy canines sat beside her with vacant eyes glowing white and a long, ruby red tongue came lolling from its slack and broken mouth.

In this scenery of deformity she could make out the distinction of other creature like shadows, wide smiles of needles, and even a large wrath of darkness in which from its core were the faces of Death. Magdalena though could not see Chaos among them, that familiar pain and anguish was not present to this, whatever it was, so when she laid back among the pure and mocking pallid field, she stared up at the black sun above her and let her eyes close with each of these dark, hellish dogs lying at her sides.

And then, without remorse, her mind receded into her precious memories and with that her real nightmare began.

She woke up on the floor, which wasn’t so much as a surprise, but what she did not expect was her cabin to be covered in thick, unwavering darkness. Magdalena rolled into a prone position and reclined on her elbows, gazing in various directions, at least she thought she was; with each rotation of her eyes, there was no break in the void. Interesting. Then she lifted her delicate fingers through her pale hair and froze, the texture wasn’t the smoothness of follicles, but instead the heavy, wet sensation of liquid dripping across her palm. Magdalena lifted her fingers to her wide eye stare, though the dark atmosphere didn’t permit her to see, but she flicked each digit in a singular flex and sure enough something clinging and heavy was impairing them.

“Shit.”

With a sudden gasp of breath, in which she held it in her lungs, she pivoted forward and clasped her hands together into a point and immediately dove for what assumed was the floor. In a wet, sloshing and plop of noise she dug her fingers into the cabin’s floor and tore herself from the shadows cast by the rising light. She panted harshly with exertion, tearing herself from the inky pit, clawing desperately to separate herself from this abyss and blinking away the clogging blackness that was spread across her skin in splotches. Half-way through she heaved herself from the pool completely and breathed in relief when a solidified surface was there to catch her breathless fall; the brunt of her endeavor making her arms tremble in their strain, almost liquefied when the final tendrils of obsidian goo snapped back from her pores. Magdalena inhaled in a sodden gasp that bubbled in her throat, coughing and sputtering an obsidian tar that congealed in her mouth with the barest hints and suggestions of vermilion and scarlet edges. Her bruised knuckles swiped back against her lips, all of the blemishes and wounds having faded into bare minimums of blues and violets and now resembling more bisque splotches after having slept, despite her usual nightmarish qualms. She breathed in deep, counted out in Anatolian numerals and shoveled the pale blonde from her brow in a slow gesticulation that wasn’t slogged with inky forms now. The murky taint spread across the walls and bunk gradually slunk back underneath her given membrane, even the bits that had formerly painted her simple, cotton negligee; not necessarily appealing but otherwise effective and practical.

She sighed in a minute of relief and attempted to recall on her nightmares that would have forced her spirits into dragging her into the void of their selves. There was no revelation though in her discombobulated memory and an effective haze draped over any chance she had, so tapping her nail against her chin and using her opposite to fetch her pack, Magdalena began assembling herself to proper order and appearance. There were constant twinges and flaring nerves that retold of physical harm and aching muscles flexing in their former abuse. These boughs of pain though weren’t distracting but rather clarifying, their subtle discomforts sharpening the resolute capability of her mind: yes she had endured a rather confusing, carnal sort with Kimberly and had even spoken to the - she refused to think of it as anything corporeal - It and even shared what was officially indicated and dubbed as an awkward conversation with Aaron. She wasn’t sure what to make of that little botch of traded words and decided that, in this, it was best to not inquire after. What benefit would come from probing those trio of occurrences and circumstances, though they had plagued her psyche and if she was honest [which she never was] they probably would for an extended period of time. Her neck was the most problematic area, gently touching around the bitten flesh with her finger tips and smoothing down her blonde tresses - the short strands flipped out rather childishly when she slept - to conceal the rather cannibalistic mark, she felt nearly branded with it. That was troubling.

But these thought processes would soon be compressed to the back of her mind, her fingers worked effectively as she donned the uniform blues, and her shadow coiled in the corner of her room; dark and thick, rippling peculiarly despite the calmness of her own mentality. Her blue eyes narrowed, and then, with a donning realization, Magdalena grabbed her gear, snapped her weapon into place and ascended upon the bow with a wide stare and an eager grin akin to a feral Cheshire.

War.

┊» battle II●
The embossed image of their aquatic fiend and assault would stay constantly with her from that day on, having nearly been sundered from her visions, being accompanied in the static tang of Olivia’s electricity. It entirely distracted her, keeping the petite woman from bracing against the rail for the sudden impact against the harbour. Magdalena flew, her small frame easily cast off from the group and through it all: sailing across the expanse of sand and driftwood, the intonations of battle assaulting her ears, she could only formulate one thought.

Well fuck.

She twisted her body just in time to catch the brunt of her fall upon the ground, her acceleration pelting her into a roll that was abruptly ended by one of the various concrete fortifications of the barricade. It stole and tore her breath from her body in a harsh, cracking snap and she nearly bit through her tongue to silence the screech of agony that speared through her spine and hip. It wasn’t an entirely flawless landing, but fortunate was seldom Magdalena’s company. The hail of gunfire signaled the start of the secondary - or was it third, did that make it her fourth? - confrontation and she winced around the crack of bone as her spine popped and she resettled her shoulders with a roll of her spheroid joint and used her diminutive size to hide. The entire assault was exhilarating, ground troops, mechanized machinery that was towering and intimidating in unique assemblage and the flares of red against the backdrop of a once proud city; skyscrapers bathed in blood. Her shadows spread wide at the sound of command, she chuckled, nightmares were right. How clever of her.

She cast blue eyes over the barricade and watched as Emily and Roy immediately submerged themselves within battle; witnessed Kimberly sprint and charge into the fray; Olivia become a mere doll and thrown afar; Kat’s ice bright against the bulk of the Mech and Jyn become pinned beneath a Guard. All of this slowly wound down into her vision, calculating, working up a process of attack as within her pit of a soul a sudden heat flared up and boiled hot underneath her skin. The usual paleness of her complexion shimmered in a queer light, as if coals were alive beneath her very dermal extremities, burning finger tips swung up and grasped her chakram from her back and with vermilion bordering her dilated pupils, Magdalena surrendered to the haze. With her brow folding down into narrowed eyes and a lip tipped into a grimace, she couldn’t help but keep her eyes on Kimberly in the moment he took a Guard alone, her observation wasn’t from worry or concern, but a simple study. She grits her teeth.

She recognizes every movement, he isn’t planning to kill, he never is. He’s planning to incapacitate their enemies and she growls at that; that will get him killed. She recalls the victims of her former emotional take over and snaps her eyes at the holographic tag illuminating the enemies tag. Well then.

The quaking earth wasn’t directed towards them but the fatigued Storm Guards, she leaps over the fissures and with one of her signature flips, she pivots into the air and uses the weight of her descent to drop down into a vicious kick against Storm Guard Omega to distance the enemy from Kimberly after having utilized his secondary weapon upon his back. The foot soldier grunts in pain from her sudden impact and with a haughty glare tossed towards Kim, she growls in a manic rumble and follows up upon her former attack. Her chakram is a deadly whirlwind, spinning around her wrist as she throws herself against the Storm Guard, every clash of steel and brass against his armour is a resonating ring of the metals colliding. He hastily throws up his night stick against her assault, but the force of her weapon knocks it away when she grips her chakram with both hands and spins her body to bring the deadly circlet up to slice vertically against the fortified chest plate.

“Come on darling, let’s dance.”

She switches wrists, swinging her chakram left and right, relentlessly attacking her opponent who is forced back and back from her malevolence. In a last, desperate attempt to stand up to the blonde demon, he uses her break in switching wrists to charge forward and drive his plated shoulder into her torso. Magdalena’s grip falters, having been lost to her sadistic haze and her chakram spins from her fingers tips and impales the quaking earth, her shadow spreads wide and far and instead of a painful bellow, she laughs and clutches at the Storm Guard with a wide simper. Her shadows swallow her, inky hands oozing and pulsating grips dragging against his armour, the soldier hollers behind his face plate and shoves away from the woman, too soon for her true Despair to assault him, but Magdalena doesn’t let him escape easily. With a sharp inhale she holds onto him just a little bit longer before her cheeks cave in and she releases a directed spat of boiling lava at his armour. Where the magma lands it immediately begins to boil against him, his alarm is acute and direct, backing away from her and flashing out his weapon with a desperate lash. The stick comes hard across her jaw, another crack and a flare of pain that is dulled when he brings it across her chest and throws her across the battle field. Magdalena surrenders to the rolling force, coming up in a feral crouch as she bares her teeth and her eyes flash orange and black, a deadly, boiling ebony of anger as the Storm Guard then tries to remove the festering, heat assuaged pieces of his plating.


Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Ozerath
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Ozerath U WOT M8?

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The mood of the group turned gloomy when they awoke from their brief rest and approached Norton City. The view was a depressing one; smoke from the burning city blotted out what little daylight remained. The ominous hulks of Dreadnought Carriers loomed in and out of the haze like circling vultures.

Depressing as it was, Thael kept his eyes firmly fixed on the sky. He wasn’t afraid of the ocean, per se. But thousands of meters of water sinking away into total darkness, home to Etro only knows what kind of creatures? That was enough to unnerve anyone, right?

Thael shuddered involuntarily, then made his way over to Roy, and quietly slid his arms around Roy’s waist to pull him close.

“I didn’t think it would be this bad,” he remarked quietly.

Roy nodded mutely in agreement, placing his arms atop Thael’s.

They didn’t say anything else, the sombre atmosphere stifling any conversation.

And then something struck the boat. Thael jumped into the air like a startled cat, looking around wildly. "What was that? WHAT WAS THAT?" he asked, his voice several registers higher than normal. He drew his shield and spear and slowly stepped away from the edge of the boat and the dark rippling waters beyond.

The cannon opened fire with satisfactory thunk, but then something straight out of Thael's nightmares erupted from the sea, long slimy tentacles lashing out across the deck. Thael screamed, and without even a moment's thought he bolted to the bow of the ship and launched himself at the approaching dock with a mighty leap. He just made it, and collapsed to the ground, shuddering in horror. The thunderous crash of the boat smashing into the dock knocked him flat on his face, and a smaller crash off to his left announced Olivia's collision with a shack. The creature was slinking back into the ocean, and Thael shuddered one last time before taking stock of the situation. Stormguards and a mech, practically on top of them. Lovely.

Still, it was preferable to fighting horrors of the deep.
Battle 2

Thael ducked behind a concrete barricade before the stormguards opened fire. This wasn't actually all that different from a Kyne-Holstein A2 scenario. In fact the KHA2 started with 8 hostile infantry and 1 mech,so this should be even simpler. They just needed to keep the mech distracted while they swept up the stormguards, then all focus fire on the mech. Thael silently nodded in approval as Olivia issued orders to that effect, but a sudden barrage of enemy fire cut her short and forced her on the offensive. A hole seemed to open in Thael's stomach as Olivia headed directly for the mech; she was going to get herself killed.

Time almost seemed to slow for a second. Thael knew his friends were extremely competent, but they were still soldiers, and soldiers needed orders, especially in this kind of chaos. Olivia had never decided on a second in command, but that was a detail that would have to wait. There was no time for confusion.

"Aaron, Mag, Jyn! I want those soldiers dead yesterday!" Thael's deep voice boomed over the sound of gunfire. "Kim and Fred, focus on diversion, keep the others out of trouble! And all of you, stay away from the mech until the infantry's down!" No time to assign specific targets. They knew what they were doing.

He was already running towards the mech when Olivia slammed into the brick wall and slid to the ground. She's ok, Thael told himself. The parameters have changed a bit, but it's still the same scenario, stay focused. Normally I'd engage the mech with Sunspear, but now I have a man down way outside my optimal engagement zone, and the mech is going to turn on her any second. So I just have to...

The solution struck him midstride. As Thael's foot hit the ground, he launched himself into the air towards Olivia, landing in front of her in a flash of light. With a deep growl, he immediately turned and hurled his spear at the mech, aiming roughly in the direction of the cockpit. Sunspears appeared out of thin air, all directed at the mech, and they seared into its armor. The spear itself jammed into the mech's central mass, just below the cockpit, though the flanges on the head kept it from going too deep. Then Kat's water came rushing in from behind, wrapping around the mech and slowing it's movements. But the mech was already facing Thael and his downed leader; the pilot lowered one of the arms and pointed it at the two of them. In the split second before it opened fire, Thael slammed his shield to the ground and crouched behind it. Light flared from the shield, arcing into a glowing semicircular barrier just in time to catch the heavy-calibre rounds that came screaming out of the mech's gun.


Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Archangel89
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Archangel89 NEZUKO-CHANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!

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BATTLE IN NORTON CITY

PART 1: THE BEACH


From a considerable distance out from the beach Aaron could hear the sounds of war pervating the air with a multitude of screams and explosions. With cold and almost souless eyes Aaron stared unblinking at the ruins of what used to be a great city was on the verge of becoming nothing more than a smoldering ruin. This wasn't a war, this was a group of bullies that decided to pick a fight with someone weaker than them. Aaron took a moment to look at his friends gatherd at the front of the boat and watched their faces change as the devastation unfolded in front of them as well and wondered if any of them were ready to face the true horrors of war. Kami knows he wasn't. Taking a moment to prepare himself, Aaron stepped away from the group and found a quick hiding place and pulled out his pack and pulled the last cigarette from the pack and lit it taking a long drag, he didn't know if he was going to get a chance to do this again.

A sudden violent force shook the already shoddy ship so hard that Aaron slammed up against the railing causing him to drop the freshly lit cigarette into the churning inky depths,

'Damn...that was my last one to!'

Turning back to the group he looked to the side of the railing and physically felt his jaw drop as he gazed upon the squelching wriggling mass of tentacles attempting to strike the ship. As he just got over the sight over the railing Aaron turned back to see the shoreline of the Norton City Docks rapidly approaching, making a split second decision Aaron ran and stood on the railing and waited. As the ship made contact with the dock he felt ships force carry the groups bodies onward onto the beach, this was the time to react. At the first sign of the traumatic stop, Aaron gathered the wind under his feet and used that force jump from the ship and land safely onto the beach. As he straightened his belongings out he stood up and watched as the other made their way onto the beach, some with a bit less finesse that Aaron had demonstrated, one such friend was Olivia. Before Aaron could make his over to help her out a rain of automatic fire began assaulting the group with deadly intent. Quickly leaving Olivia Aaron ducked behind a concrete block to discover that Freddy was already using it as cover for himself. As Olivia attempted to shout commands the rain of gunfire drowned most of it out as Liv made a universal gesture for 'creative interpretation' of her commands.

Aaron peaked out from around the corner to see how many assailants needed immediate attention and the first thing that came to mind was the foot soldiers with the rifles, as soon as they were dealt with the group could safely leave their makeshift havens and deal with them directly. As Emily dispatched one of the assailants (Alpha) and Roy rushed in to cover her, Aaron took a moment which was free of deadly bullets and charged into the fray himself. His first target (Beta) had just finished reloading his rifle when Aaron charged and appeared directly in his face, to which he responded by aiming and firing in the direction of where Aaron had appeared. A mistake which proved fatal. Aaron had already moved around him and ran one of his blades into the mans neck. Aaron quickly turned around to see two more soldiers (Gamma, Delta) aimed and ready to fire at the same moment that Aaron saw another (Omega) coming up behind Fuzzy. Aaron charged Gamma and sliced through his rifle while turning and disarming Delta and kicking him into the sea, turning just in time to wound Omega with a poorly aimed thrust around Fuzzy.

"Heads up Fuzzy!"

Leaving Kim to his own devices Aaron turned back to the two that he had disarmed (Gamma,Delta) and began engaging them in armed combat.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Mirandae
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Flashback: Ascalon Isles *

When a present voice could not be heard to answer her question, Olivia assumed herself to be alone even if she could hear some of her beloved friends nearby. The girl slipped into a loose, beach tank top of some greyish color—imprinted with a black, distorted graven image of a serpent-like Kami—to allow herself relief from the exposure of her dark two piece, accompanied by some designer-inspired, square butterflyish, oversized sunglasses. Any notion of order remained absent from and within the endless straws of her benighted hair, and facial beauteous enhancement was not to speak of, but it did not matter at the time and place in which she was. Lazy days and hours at the beach were utmost favored by Olivia, even if their offering of activities were limited to nothing at all. Therefore, the girl allowed herself to fall onto her back, and onto the cotton towel she had brought with her, once more in order to absorb the sun and the frisky sounds of the ocean. Her arms were outstretched along the length of themselves behind her head, fingers playing in the sand. Her left leg rested on its foot, which was situated next to the kneecap of her other leg, extended and resting along the length of the towel, feet pointing towards the ocean. Tiny specks of fluid, water from various sources, dotted the landscape of her smooth, now sun-aureate skin—oblivious to its own voluptuous nature.

Some sundry moments passed and the sun descended further towards the great maw of the horizon. Olivia reached for her phone, which was inside a designated beach accessory, and managed to navigate herself to a group of contacts of particular significance. Her intentions were unmistakably that of fervent flattery to procure a favor of cold beverage brought to her being, as she could not muster the energy to stand up, put her sandals on, walk thirty meters to the bar and get it herself. Unsure of which number the device ultimately decided to dial, the slender brunette attempted to adulate whoever that was on the other end: “Hi, sweetie. What are you up to?”

Aaron sat a distance away from the cabana propped up against a post taking long and meaningful drags off of his cigarette, making sure that the smoke would not disturb those enjoying their well-deserved time off with his offensive and disgusting habit. The day had progressed with a slow and relaxing pace almost as if these islands were a land that time had passed by. Aaron had, of course, spent the majority of the day with his friends engaging in all manner of beach fun, but as time slowly turned the sun towards the west Aaron took the time to try and reflect on life in general. He could hear the joy and laughter from the cabana and his heart was lifted by his friends’ happiness...but something gnawed at him, and had since the first time that he met them. Something told him that he didn't belong, that he had no place among them. Normally he would suppress these thoughts and would go about his day, but ever since joining Oakridge, his heart kept telling him that he had no business with them, that in the end he would do nothing but hurt them. His self-obsessed introspection was interrupted by a vibration his pocket which was only exacerbated by the jingling of loose change also within his pocket. As he grabbed his phone and went through menial task of unlocking and checking to see who was calling, he felt his heart skip a beat as he read the name of the caller: Liv. With shaking hands Aaron answered the call with bated breath.

“Enjoying the view...how about you?” Aaron knew all too well that she was most likely trying to reach someone else, but if she called him, then he was going to capitalize on the moment.

Olivia stretched her limbs and muscles as she rolled onto her stomach, into some weird, feline-like position that would appear extremely uncomfortable but was in actuality the contrary. Her voice was serene and smooth around its consonants, sensual in its foundations and tone, flowing akin to a stream of water: “Oh, nothing much… could you bring me a cold one? Pretty, please? I’m on the beach, just down from the bar.”

Aaron looked out across the beach until he spotted her waving him down to ensure that he saw her, once he saw her he responded in kind, giving a slight wave in her direction. "Alright...I'll be there in just a sec." Within moments Aaron had purchased two beers from the bar keep and then made his way over to her. On any other occasion he might have been so nervous that this simple act would have been nearly impossible, but today was different. Maybe it was because of his introspection earlier, or maybe it was because the island time had taken hold of him and made him forget his problems... whatever the case, he was glad that he was going to be able to relax even if it was only for a moment. As he walked up beside her, Aaron glanced at Liv's awkward position and let out a friendly chuckle: “That is by far the oddest position that I have ever seen you in..., and I’ve seen you drunk at several parties.”

Olivia rolled around onto her back again and dramatically pulled her shades off with a funny look on her face: “You don’t say?”

With a quick gesture, Aaron handed Olivia the frosty beer and plopped himself down in the sand beside her, forearms resting on his knees, staring out over the lapping waves on the shore line. “I can't remember the last time any of us got to relax like this. It's been so long, at least in my mind it has.”

Olivia pulled herself together and seated her buttocks next to Aaron, legs crossed together and the beer resting between them against her thigh. A wide, pearly smiled erupted on her face as she tilted her head downwards, catching herself embarrassed by her own sensation; the moment was perfect—it was a time and a place that she wished would never seize to exist. She suddenly realized why people so ardently craved vacation in distant places of the world every year. Troubles that otherwise clouded her mind and welfare did not matter here, even if she had not forgotten them; they were so far away and out of reach. Olivia’s smile faded as she took a sip of her beer. “That makes two of us. It feels as if our troubles are so far away and out of reach, as if they can’t get to us here. It feels… nice,” she said and took another sip. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Eh, I’ve been better. Really, I’ve been contemplating life and the mysteries of the universe and such... ” Aaron took a long swig of his been letting his voice trail off a bit, there was more to his words then he let on. As if brought on by her simple question brought back all of the self-doubt that he had been previously contemplating. He was never meant to be around these wonderful people that had appeared in his life, because deep in the pit of his soul he knew that he would one day hurt all of them in some shape, form, or fashion. Suddenly brought back to his current conversation, and as he turned to Olivia and saw that warm beaming smile, all of his worries faded away: “...but I’m better now having a beer on the beach with you.” Flashing his own smile Aaron reached out his bottle to clink it against hers in a mock toast.

Olivia basked in a delightful chuckle at the boy’s phrasing and took a sip of her beer in honor of his toast. “—Life and the mysteries of the universe, huh? That sounds intriguing! What do you think about that stuff, anyway?—like, Kami,” the girl said and pointed to her tank top that had an image of one, “and Eternal Etro and all that there. Do you believe in that stuff?”

Aaron thought about it for a moment, he had never really given that particular subject much thought..., mainly because he never needed to. From the day he started training at the academy all he had ever known was what he could see and feel. “Honestly, I haven’t really thought about it..., it’s people that scare me more than anything else.”

Having a fancy for and majoring in Philosophy at Oakridge, matters such as these enticed Olivia to reflection and discussion, whether the disciples in her presence wanted to discourse it or not. The subject matter was one of her few passions in life, even if she did not believe in it herself. Olivia glanced at Aaron as he spoke, the corners of her lips slightly retracting to form a smirk. The girl gently placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder and let herself fall onto her back again, dragging Aaron with her. While gazing at the cloud clad sky, Olivia tilted her head next to Aaron’s and then stretched her arm and index finger towards the atmosphere. She began to paint shapes and forms with pre-existing cloud formations in order to illustrate:

“All life is born from the Earth,” she said and marked a circular shaped cloud, “and each new life has a spirit,” she continued by contouring some abstract cloud pattern, “Each new spirit is housed in a physical body,” she placed her other hand on Aaron’s chest, “and through their experiences on Earth, each spirit matures and grows,” she said and pointed to a cloud that vaguely resembled an infant child, “and when the physical body perishes, the mature spirit, enriched by its life on Earth, returns to what we call the Eternal Etro, bringing with it its experiences and energies, enabling the cycle of life to begin anew,” she said. “Or, at least that’s what they talk about in Philosophy class,” she chuckled. “I don’t know if I believe in it, but it’s beautiful when you think about it—that we are all connected somehow.”

Aaron stared up in the sky with a blank stare on his face, he had taken the same class as Olivia, although he may not have done as well as she was. Aaron had always been more of a ‘flesh and blood’ kind of person, meaning that the grander philosophies of the afterlife meant little to him. Rather than saying something dumb and very ‘man-like,’ Aaron decided to sum up the thought process in a simple phrase: “Here’s all I need to know...,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her back up, directing her attention towards the group of friends hanging out just a distance away: “...life isn’t some grand Etro, it’s here. Life is these moments that will last a lifetime with those that won’t.” It took a minute for Aaron to realize that he was still holding Liv’s hand, to which he quickly rectified by pulling his hand away as nonchalantly as possible. “Uh...sorry...”

Olivia was awestruck by Aaron’s sudden metaphysical insight about life and the mysteries therein. Her jaw almost dropped when she was taken by his stormy impulse, displaying and maintaining an open smile that exposed Olivia’s entire upper row of blinding, pearly teeth. Olivia quickly grabbed Aaron’s hand again after the boy let go of hers. “Wow, Aaron… that was amazing… I had no idea you were so…wise,” she said, and then the girl proceeded to collect her things. “Come on, let’s see what life is up to,” Olivia said, locked her arm with Aaron’s, and proceed to stroll towards the bar.
Norton City: Battle II

When the hail of fire spewing forth from the Mech’s armament seized, Olivia put the tip of Cerberus against the ground to assist the effort of pulling herself off of the ground and onto a knee. She tilted her head upwards to catch a glimpse of Thael, who responded to her gaze with a glance over his shoulder. “Good man,” she panted, pressing her eyebrows together in retrospect of what had just occurred. Her beloved friends had been fierce in their movements and execution. Two of the Storm Guard soldiers had already been dispatched of in the brief time that Olivia had been disabled by the Mech. The remaining three soldiers were barely standing and the Mech was about to fall apart from being frozen by Kat’s spirits and punished by Thael’s spear. However, this was not going to be their only moment of stress and battle during their stay in the city, so keeping their strength and effort was crucial. When Olivia attempted to become on her feet again, she felt a momentary sting in her hip followed by aching which could only indicate a bruised injury of some sort, bound to slow her down for a few minutes until she would adjust to the sensation. Using the potions that she had procured in Doral was tempting, but they still had a long way to go and perhaps worse challenges to face, so Olivia managed to restrain herself by biting her lips—pain to cancel pain.

Olivia positioned herself seated back to back with Thael at his crouched stance, protected behind his immense shield. The girl put her gunblade aside for a second to rub her hands together, palms massaging each other. The motion began to conjure some manner of brilliant sparks and Olivia’s forearms displayed a soft, light-bluish glow as her spirits gathered their strength from within. While performing her odd ritual, she repositioned herself to support weight on one knee and balance herself on the other leg, which foot touched the ground, still behind the hulking tank that was Thael. The glow and sparks from her hands rapidly increased in size and within seconds massive lighting arcs lashed out at conducting objects in the environment, displaying a marvelous sight and rolling sounds of thunder. When the power of her spirits had reached the tip of Olivia’s fingers, she threw her hands at the sky upon which a loud booming sound emanated from her position and the lighting sparks suddenly vanished. Not an instant later, barely half a second, a titanic lightning strike descended from the darkened sky, vast in size, and struck the Mech where it stood.

The impact of Olivia’s lighting attack, albeit a few paces away, knocked both Thael and Olivia backwards onto the ground. The Mech suffered catastrophic engine and systems failure and exploded in a concentrated burst of lighting and fire. Three distinct ribbon-shaped, spirits of lighting could be seen escaping the detonation. They moved across conducting material and objects on the battlefield in sporadic, jerking motions, lashing out at unsuspecting things and people, before they found their way and retreated into Olivia’s body. She felt as if she was hit by a speeding car as the three spirits simultaneously penetrated her person, returning to safety once more—not that she knew what being hit by a speeding car felt like, but it would have been the best possible analogy. The girl coughed like an old woman as she recovered and looked to Thael. “It’s been a while since I put those guys to use…, I forgot how aggressive they are,” she said, referring to the three spirits known as 'Thunderclap' as ‘the guys.’




Norton City: Mistaken Identity *

The friends traversed a city torn asunder by forces akin to that of transcendental beings, superior in every conceivable way. They ran and fought through barricades and ruins alike, scaled impossible obstacles in their path, and felt the chilling grasps of death itself on more than one occasion when random artillery fire shook the grounds and buildings nearby. However, this was what they had trained for their entire life. There was no mistake to be made, this is what they lived for, what they were destined to breathe—the putrid fumes of war—for the remainder of their days on Atlas. Even though what they had to do, what they had been ordered to do seemed convoluted and bewildering to Olivia, she kept her focus on her own goal, one which she had shared with her friends for a long time—revenge for Sam’s death. Of course, they were impossibly ignorant to which particular Xenomorph that had slain him, but it did not matter. The situation was infinite leagues beyond Eye for an Eye at this point; only the complete and utter genocide of the alien race could modestly suffice.

After what seemed an eternity of running and fighting, but what would only be fifty-nine minutes in actuality, the friends reached allied territories and the Norton City Vanguard Command. It was an extremely cramped space underneath a gigantic shopping center, somewhere in the middle of the city. They were received by a Scout Sniper that had tracked their movement for five minutes before they arrived. As the friends were led underground, they were met by medical staff that examined them on the go and gave them tiny bottles of water. Olivia hastily and forcefully grabbed two bottles, one which she almost literary chucked down her throat and another one which she emptied the contents of over her head and face to cool off. The friends marched down hallways and ladders in silence, akin to war heroes upon which injured Norton City infantry gazed in awe from the ground. When the friends reached the actual command center, Thael was the first to enter the confined control room, followed by Olivia, Emily, Royce, Freddy, Aaron, Katherine, Magdalena, Remiel, Jynette, and Kimberly. All manner of holographic tables and screens of some reddish color lit the otherwise dark room with a comfortable, smooth illumination.



“Sir, WARG is here.” the Scout Sniper address to an old man, the general standing by the hulking control board in the middle of the room, whom abruptly discontinued whatever he was doing to face the friends.
“Thank you, Williams. You’re dismissed,” The general replied. The general proceeded to approach Thael with an extended hand and arm, which he gratefully shook the titan’s with.
“It’s an honor to have you here, Captain,” the General said to Thael, whom quickly glanced at Olivia with a confused look, but returned his attention to the general equally fast.
"Sir, I'm actually-" he began to say.
“Yes, Captain, an honor indeed,” Olivia interrupted with a mischievous tone to mock Thael.
“Please, if you would,” The general continued and urged the friends to gather around the control board, which they did. “As you can see, we’re getting utterly destroyed and any form of diplomacy or demands from Nautilus has either been ignored or unheard of since the initial attack,” he continued. The general kept his attention on Thael, believing the hulking praetorian to be the commander of the group. Olivia also threw unnecessary attention on Thael, staring him down as the general spoke. She was not sure what to think or feel, but she was not agitated, as she would never have thought herself the commander of anything if standing next to Thael.
“I don’t know what Oakridge expects by sending you here, but the odds of an actual victory here is slim at best. What we need from you is to secure our artillery platforms, here,” the general pointed at a location on the holographic map, “Those units are crucial to any kind of gain in this confrontation,” he continued.
“What kind of resistance can we expect over there?” Olivia inquired.
“We are not entirely sure. Our scouts report mixed infantry units and military assets that we cannot identify. Some of our men claim that they have seen Aggressors, but nothing has been confirmed,” the general replied.
“Aggressors? Nautilus doesn’t have any spirit training programs and most Aggressors work alone,” Olivia said.
“It’s most likely superstition,” the general concluded, somewhat annoyed. “Anyway, that’s what we know. The best way of getting to those platforms is through the sewer systems, which you can access from within this complex—Chief Gunnery Sergeant Williams will take you there,” the general said and sighed, “Divine Etro be with you out there,” he finished and saluted the friends.

As the friends were about to exit the control room, the general addressed them once more. “Oh, and one more thing: the presence of WARG is next to legendary amongst the men and it boosts their morale, tremendously. See if you can encourage them out there somehow, perhaps say a few words. We would certainly appreciate it a lot,” the general said and dismissed the friends again. As Thael was about to exit the control room, Olivia hastily interrupted him by slightly bumping into his arm with her shoulder, spitting a somewhat spiteful sentence without even looking at him, as she passed: “You’re up, hero.” Olivia was annoyed by a plethora of different things that had been building up inside of her mind and heart; she knew that Thael thought that he should have been chosen for command over her, she knew that he made no effort to conceal his disappointment, and she knew that sooner or later she would have to deal with it, violently if necessary. Olivia did not doubt Thael’s leadership abilities, which were probably better than her own, but she could not allow him or anyone else undermine her because of it. The fact that the general had assumed Thael to be the Captain only added insult to injury.

The Gunnery Sergeant received the friends outside of the control room, ready to lead them to the sewer entrance. All around them there were injured soldiers on the ground, accompanied by somewhat readied soldiers about to face their opponents on the surface of the city. “Speak to them, hear their stories, encourage them,” the Gunnery Sergeant said, “It helps them more than you know.”
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by JJ Doe
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While Kimberly was waiting for the right moment to cut in between Magdalena and Storm Guard Omega, Ghost was completely engrossed in the ivory dragon’s dance. His eyes absorbed how she moved with fierce elegance. “I hate to sound like he-who-shall-not-be-named, but,” Ghost pulled on his shirt and fanned himself with his free hand. “Phew!” Kimberly did not share the same opinion as Ghost. Not when all he could focus on was how fast the numbers went down on the Storm Guard’s holographic tab. There was no time to enjoy the “show” that Ghost apparently indulged in.

Kimberly wanted to stop Magdalena ---everyone--- from killing a human, an organism capable of communicating if they so choose to. He knew that this was a war; he understood that people killed people during a war, but was it actually necessary? He wasn’t knowledgeable on the intricacy of politics, but Kimberly believed a majority of wars happened because people, the government, decided that there was no use in negotiating. War was the least complex and fasted way to get what the people wanted. Negotiations took too long, change was never immediate, and not everyone got what they wanted: they may even be forced to endure things they didn’t want… but at least no one had to loose someone they cared about. With the xenomorphs… it was more about survival and less about the benefits of a region. Kimberly could live with that. His friends may never regret ending the life of someone else, but Kimberly knew he would. He was not ready to become the reason why a child would have to be raised without a parent; why a person will never be able to kiss their lover; why a brother or sister could never fight with a sibling over trivial matters ever again; why they will never be able to laugh with a friend. Every one of his friends knew how it felt to loose someone… how could they fight the soldiers without any hesitation?

“Because they’re not complete morons, Kim. This isn’t Doral. That isn’t a civilian. They are soldiers and they will not hesitate to f**k you or your friends up. This war may not have been necessary, but this battle is about survival. You can kill them and take someone’s special somebody, or they can kill you. Leaving your friends and family with one less person to give a damn about.”
Or I can be ambitious.

Ghost was ready to retaliate when the two saw Storm Guard Omega’s nightstick make contact into Magdalena’s jaw and chest. Kimberly visibly flinched at the sight just as Ghost immediately ran straight for the soldier, yelling something about how “S&M was reserved for him and him alone” or something along those lines. Kimberly wasn’t quite sure what Ghost was thinking, but this was the opportunity he had been waiting for. He ran as fast as he could, passed Magdalena, towards Storm Guard Omega.

The holographic tab indicated that there was just enough health for Kimberly to knock the soldier unconscious without causing any life threatening damage. All he had to do was get to him first before---…

Storm Guard Omega’s body suddenly dropped to the ground right when Kimberly was a few feet away from him; Kimberly barely dodged the falling man. Neither Kimberly nor Ghost was sure what had just happened. The giant ---or even Magdalena--- was not close enough to do anything to him. Yet there he was on the ground, unmoving. The hologram flashed the numbers 232/230, before turning completely off. Kimberly’s ears could not hear anything from the dead soldier.

“Heads up Fuzzy!” Aaron said before he left his dumbfounded childhood friends.

“Huh.” Ghost simply said. “Well that was anticlimactic. Huh, Kim?” Ghost turned to Kimberly, “Kim?”

Kimberly stared down at the Nautilus soldier. The first human death Kimberly had witnessed in the context of war happened so out of the blue that his brain stopped working for a second. Then, a feeling of guilt rushed over him. He couldn’t and didn’t blame Aaron or Magdalena: they were doing what had to be done. In his head, he understood that. It was his heart that needed persuading.

Kimberly reached down---…

---… a hand touches [her]: a body that was once a person and was now nothing more than a pile of meat, bone, and organs.

In the dark bedroom, small hands touched [her], attempting to wake [her] up. When the owner of the hands realized [she] had left [her] body behind, they wondered why they had survived when [she] didn’t.

In the cold morgue, large hands caressed [her] face. The owner of the hands was convinced that this was how the world would treat them as long as they existed. Everyone they cared about was going to leave them behind.

In the middle of a burning town, red hands held [her] body close to the owner of the hands. The owner sobbed uncontrollably, begging for “this” not to be true.

His hands…


---…hovered over the soldier’s body. Kimberly shook his head. This was not a good time for hallucinations. His trembling hands flipped the Storm Guard’s body and began to search for something. The task was temporarily suspended when Kimberly heard movement behind him. The giant jumped to his feet and turned around to see Magdalena. Kimberly felt his tensed muscles relax, “Maggie…” Kimberly’s quivering hand attempted to run its fingers through his hair, but only ended up bumping against his helmet he had forgotten he was wearing. He was only able to briefly thank Magdalena for saving him before he had to turn away from her. He doubted there was any point in turning away; she probably knew how much he was shaking. The raven-haired man knelt down once again to look for an ID on the corpse.

“You don’t need to put a name to an enemy. It’s just going to be harder for you. You might even…” Ghost narrowed his eyes when Kimberly found a family photo in one of the soldier’s breast pocket along with his dog tag. “Find things like that.” Part of him wanted to look away as soon as he identified what it was, but Kimberly forced himself to study the photograph. He finally tore his eyes away from the picture when Ghost called his name. The fight wasn’t over yet. Kimberly returned the photograph and dog tag in their proper place and placed the solder’s hands over his chest.
By the time Kimberly came back to the battlefield the Nautilus Mech was destroyed and Storm Guard Alpha had been defeated. Only three soldiers remained. Kimberly’s ears focused on Storm Guard Delta.

“Are you seriously going to do this again?”
As you said, I’m a complete moron.

The sound spirits assisted Kimberly’s sneaking by muting every sound that he made. Stealthily, Kimberly maneuvered his way close to the unsuspecting and distracted Storm Guard Delta. Although he was fully aware that the spirits had made the noises he made non-existent, Kimberly couldn’t help, but hold his breath when he heard the soldier come closer to his hiding spot.

The instant Storm Guard Delta was close enough, the brunet sprang out from his hiding place and attempted to do a chokehold on the soldier. As anticipated, the Storm Guard’s struggles made it difficult to perform the move. The two men clumsily fought each other until Kimberly finally decided to change tactics. The giant’s arms moved away from the soldier’s upper body and wrapped themselves around his waist. “Don’t bite your tongue,” Kimberly warned before performing belly-to-back suplex. Kimberly quickly released Storm Guard Delta and mounted himself on top of the soldier to do an arm triangle choke.

Kimberly was going to have to be careful. One wrong move and the Storm Guard was dead. He only needed the soldier to loose consciousness.


----- Norton City-----

Kimberly stared at the injured soldiers around them in silence. It was apparent that Norton City didn’t have enough medics. “Speak to them, hear their stories, encourage them,” the Gunnery Sergeant said, “it helps them more than you know.” Kimberly walked up to Olivia. “Olive… if… we’re not leaving soon… can…” the brunet hesitated for a moment, like a child asking his mother if he could do something that she would most likely disapprove of, “can… I heal the soldiers? T-they… ike… mi … t…” Kimberly’s voice volume lowered into inaudible levels around the end of his sentence.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Tenish the Mighty
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Attending to Reality

A Pride, A Fall

There was a darkness. A darkness so deep as to be blinding. There was a silence. A silence so quiet as to be deafening. There was an emptiness. An emptiness so devoid of substance as to be crushing. Then the universe woke up and definition began to appear at the edges of creation.

There was a sea, or, at least, something like a sea. It stretched beyond the edge of the infinite horizon. The sea was not calm. Great eddies formed. The sea was not empty. Each cresting wave contained within it a continent worn away, a civilization scoured clean, a reality undone by the all consuming waters. All of this flotsam churned within the great sea. All of it carried to a singular destination. At the heart of the sea, no, the entirety of the sea was a part of it, a whirlpool. A maelstrom. A great consuming vortex into which the endless sea eternally flowed. Churning walls of water formed a funnel of unfathomable depths, retiring downwards beyond even universal perspicacity. Everything was consumed by that hungry maw. There was a force more purposeful and certain than gravity at its core, an inevitability that drew the waters and the entire worlds they contained down into the hungry pit.

The waters were black. No, that wasn't quite right. Not black. Devoid of color, lacking even the notion of it. Yet they could be seen. Illumination still existed in this place, it had yet to be devoured entirely by the hungry void.

A star hung over the all consuming maelstrom. A blazing beacon of light in the vacuum above. But perspective shifted. Definition sharpened. Not a star. A thing in the shape of a man or an Angel. The being was wrapped in wings of fire, from whence the light shone. Perspective. Definition. Not wings of fire. Wings on fire. A flame so intense it burned until only the flame itself remained and then it burned some more.

The figure fell from that height. The blazing fires around it radiating towards the walls of the maelstrom, as if to arrest itself. But there was no resisting the pull. The figure plunged through the emptiness that separated it's decent from bottom of the maw. The figure fell forever.

There was no distance that could measure how long the angelic being fell. It simply continued to tumble deeper into the maelstrom. It fell, it's fires burned, and all at once, the light went out.

There was a blinding darkness. There was a deafening silence. There was a crushing emptiness.
A Boat, Adrift

Remiel's eyes open to a new reality, the old one collapsing into the ephemeral fog of dream. He blinked and breathed several times as his senses adjusted to the more tangible and cogent world of wakefulness. There was warmth. Softness. Emily's back pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around her middle. Their legs entwined. Remiel breathed in her scent and took a moment to come to bear with this new found reality.

Gently extricating his left arm, Remiel half-turned to lay on his back, his right arm and leg still beneath the body of his sleeping companion. Resting his freed hand against his stomach, Remiel turned his gaze to the ceiling. He breathed deep. The air was cold and smelled like the sea. His eyes danced across the features of the ceiling, as though the corrugated iron sheeting had some vital secret to impart. Only one fragment remained of the dream reality. A thought. Icarus was not killed by the Sun, but by the Sea. Remi frowned.

Emily stirred. Her body shifted towards Remi adjusting itself against him, her hand meeting his on his stomach as her cheek rested against his chest. He regarded her still sleeping face for a moment. She really was extraordinarily beautiful, but that was not the thought that dispelled the last vestige of the dreamworld from his mind.

What had he done? The previous nights events were not unique, or even that uncommon. It had been happening with some frequency and for some time now. But last night had been the first time Remi had been the one to initiate it. That worried him. It worried him even more than he could not entirely fathom why. It was pleasurable sure. Though he was certain of little in regards to his relationship with Emily, he was quite sure that they were physically, very compatible. But that wasn't it. He had struggled to understand if there was more too it than that. He had always reciprocated when she had called upon him, as much out of a sense of propriety than sensuality, and precisely what his feelings were or were supposed to be had joined the voluminous list of quandaries that occupied so much of Remiel's anxiety.

But last night he hadn't simply been reciprocating. Trying to please her. To do the right and proper thing. He had wanted something from her. Something primal. A need to be fulfilled. Had it been? Remi didn't know. Perhaps it had.

All Remi really knew for certain, he was hungry.
A Battle, In Progress

Remi skirted the edges of the field. Once again finding himself on the sidelines of battle. But this time, purpose, not trepidation, dictated his actions. Remi watched the combat flow and unfold, noting the movements of enemy and ally alike. Some moved with purpose; others, trepidation. Still he could see patterns arise from the melee. The Nautilus soldiers were well trained and well equipped. But none of them really could stand against a WARG Guardian Squad. As the mech fell, he knew that none of them were in any real danger. Remi frowned and settled into a comfortable lop across the battlefield. Combat doctrine would dictate that the remaining Nautilus soldiers would break combat when reduced to half strength, and indeed the three remaining Storm Guards moved to make a fighting retreat towards the rest of the invading Nautilus soldiers. Remi would not let that happen.

Kim downed one of the guards, displaying a remarkable level of restraint when compared to the rest of the combatants. Perhaps it would be for the better. In any event it pushed any thoughts of needing to reign in his own tactics aside. Remi broke into a run around the dock pillars. The hunger remained.

The two remaining Storm Guard had reeled about, focusing on an overturned vehicle that provided the only cover on the field. Remi couldn't tell what was beyond, but there was a corpse a few feet away from it, and he had heard Emily shouting from that direction. It didn't take much to put it together: She could be pinned down.

Remi touched a finger to his ear thumbing the microbead nestled within.

"Emily. Situation?" His voice was flat and even. The line crackled. There was the sound of close gunfire.

"Oh...you know, just filling up my dance card." Her voice sounded strange over the comm. Remiel made up his mind.

The field was too open to hope to catch the soldiers unawares now, so Remi trusted to his spirit enhanced speed to carry him. The soldiers were about to open fire on Emily's position again - he had to get between her and them. At this range, the low-caliber bullets of the soldiers guns could not do significant harm against Remiel. At best their bullets would bruise, perhaps cause more significant injury if they struck a vulnerable location like the eyes. Remi raised a hand before him as he rushed into the wall of bullets. Most missed him, he felt a few thump into his chest armor. One grazed his neck. None of them managed to slow him down. He didn't have time to look, so he had to assume his efforts had bought Emily enough cover.

At twenty meters the fire abated as the soldiers readied for melee engagement. Disciplined. Ultimately unhelpful. Remi drew his blade as he came in, the first soldier lashed out with her baton, but far too slowly. Remi sidestepped the strike, his free hand coming up to intercept, grabbing the wielding arm at the wrist. Pulling with the woman's momentum he overextended the soldier's arm, his blade coming down at the elbow. Severance. Blood. Remi turned on his heel before the soldier could scream, driving all of his force into an elbow strike to her flank. He felt the breaking of ribs and the collapse of the soldier's lung. Before the opponent dropped, Remi advanced towards the second.

Discipline evaporated. Faced with an inevitable confrontation with an opponent he could not meet, the remaining soldier tried to backpedal away from Remi, scrambling to bring his rifle to bear. He was about to fire as Emily emerged from her cover and ran forward, swinging her staff into the air over her head. It landed in the soldier's abdomen, pushing him to the side; before he could recuperate, she was on him, pushing him to the ground, kneeing him in the groin, crushing his windpipe with the staff. As he struggled, she pulled back, raised the bo, and drove it into his throat, once, twice, three times. The moment he stopped moving, Emily lurched backwards and was violently sick.

There was a stillness for a moment at the conclusion. The frenetic motion coming to an abrupt end. Remi withdrew a cloth from his pocket, wiping wet, red blood from his blade. Then the bullets hit him.

While it may have been true that Remiel's enhanced fortitude could withstand inaccurate fire from a distance. A nautilus combat rifle would do much more than bruise at close range. It didn't even hurt. More it felt like someone just tapped their fingers rapidly on his back. But he knew the bullets had punctured his armor, and pierced the skin within. Slowly Remi turned to face his attacker, slowly, an ache in his body that he recognized as horrific injury. The first soldier he had attacked knelt behind him, her rifle braced against her hip. Her remaining hand clutching the trigger in a white knuckled grip. The barrel of her firearm smoked from the friction of unloading the entirety of her clip into his back. Remi looked at her. She looked at him. Both breathing in ragged gasps from their wounds. Remiel was hungry. Something other hand bullets migrated from her to him.
Nautilus, Before

Natalia Drakka had grown up surrounded by the sea. Her father had told her that she had washed ashore in a storm, a gift from the Kami. She never liked the sea. She loved the taste of apricots. She hated the color purple. She thought that the dress she was made to wear during her coming of age party was nice, but too ostentatious for her taste. She dreamed of distant shores.

Her father died when she was eight years old, her mother had died a decade later. Both of her parents funerals were held on a Friday, the sky uncharacteristically clear. Natalia loved philosophy. She never remembered much of it that she learned in school, but she always held on to one notion. In a certain eastern civilization the soul was explained to be as a tangled mass of string. Each life began with a single thread. As the life occurred the string would move, entwining itself with the threads of others until it was a great twisting ball, attached to innumerable others. The metaphor was supposed to represent how a person's life was only as important as the connections it made with others. Natalia always liked that notion.

Natalia met her husband when she was twenty years old. Like her, he joined the military directly out of schooling. He was a little short. His hair was blond. He loved her more deeply than she knew possible. They had a child. Sarah. Her hair was blonde. Natalia come out to her husband shortly after Sarah was born. It amazed her how easy it was to lose even a love so deep. Now she was with Cynthia. They raised Sarah together. Sarah was now two. Cynthia was an engineer. She loved to dance.

Natalia's unit was deployed to a foreign front. Cynthia could not stop crying when she told her. Natalia could not tell her that she was actually excited to go. She would miss Cynthia terribly. She would miss Sarah even more. She kissed her daughters forehead as she slept the night the transports left. Cynthia cried as she waved goodbye at the port. The sky was clear.

The boat ride over, all Natalia could think of was a tangled ball of string.
A Battle, In Conclusion

Remi blinked. So did Natalia. Both gasped at the transmigration between them. Remi could see the fear in her eyes. But more than that, he could see the subtle nuances to that fear. Corporal Drakka did not fear her end. She had accepted that inevitability long ago. She feared the end of her threads. How the tangled mass of her life would be cut from everyone she knew. She did not fear her end, but she did not accept it either.

The crippled Nautilus soldier dropped her spent weapon. She turned and struggled to rise. Her legs quivered and buckled beneath her, casting Drakka into the cold, bloody concrete. She crawled forwards. Her movements were slow, deathly. She would not survive this. But Remi knew she would still try. She would fight her end with everything she had left. That was the kind of woman she was.

Remi walked towards her. There was a soft metallic tinkling sound as the bullets fell from his back, Remi's reality reasserting itself over hers. He breathed deep with newly knit lungs. He flipped his blade in his grip. He would not apologize to Corporal Drakka. There were no words to sooth or absolve what he was about to do. He would not let her suffer either. Careful to keep is shadow from her sight, his footsteps baffled by the blood singing in her ears. She would die as she had lived, fighting. Remi's blade rose. Remi's blade fell. Threads were cut.

Remiel yanked his blade from the back of Corporal Drakka's neck, the body lifting slightly before falling back down with an unpleasant smack. Remi rose from the corpse. He wiped his blade again. He turned to look at Emily. His face was blank.

"You'll survive this," he said. His voice did not sound like his own. There was a hunger in his eyes.


A City, Besieged

Remi once again found himself at the sidelines. A silent observer of the act. He observed the wounded soldiers, noting their number in comparison to his best estimates as to Norton's standing forces and anticipated attrition. The number of wounded was great, but it was perhaps more telling that the number was not that great. Nautilus' forces had struck with unexpected ferocity. The number of casualties was certain to far exceed the numbers seen here. How many had been unable to be evacuated before Nautilus' sweeping advance?

Remi listened to the Norton General. He frowned at the confusion over the identity of the Captaincy. This would be an issue in the future. Conflict over command was not something the unit could afford in a full combat theater. Something would have to be done about that.

Remi thought upon that problem and so many others, hypothetical or otherwise, as the team followed Gunnery Sergeant Williams to the sewer entrance. He perked up a bit at Kim's uncharacteristic vocalization. Remi considered the man's garbled request. It was not his decision to make, but he could see the merits of letting the team walk among the wounded and not just for the Norton soldiers. Still, it was not his decision to make. That said...

"If I may speak freely Captain, I think it would be prudent if we acquiesce to the Gunnery Sergeant's request. These soldiers will need a moral boost if they are to stabilize against Nautilus' shock tactics. I could also use some time to try and draw up what intel I can for our next operation." Remi fell in step to Olivia's right, slightly behind. A small gesture, perhaps, but the meaning should have been clear enough. Deference for her authority. His words were not mere lip service though. While the decision lay with the Captain, there was much merit to the notion. As much as it might galvanize the fighting men, it could do the same for the team. They would need some stability and focus if they were going to fight effectively. Not to mention Remi's desire for more specificity regarding the upcoming operation. He needed to maintain a firm grasp over the situation. Without it, everything might fall apart. He needed control. He needed clarity. The hunger within continued to grow.
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At the Command Post (After battle)

Emily didn't know she ought to feel. She didn't know how to decide what to feel, either. There was (literal) blood on her hands, from somebody she'd just killed. The word "murdurer" flitted through her head. She dismissed it. Of all the things it had felt like, murder wasn't one of them.

There was the pleasurable edge - the spirits liked it when she was destructive, she thought. And it had been what she'd had to do. There was no question about that. Below that feeling was the shock, disbelief she'd been capable of taking those men down, and willing to. Beneath that was grief, maybe a little anger, a little vindictiveness. They had been trying to kill her, after all. Would they have felt this way now? Of course they would have. They were people. That couldn't really matter; everybody ever killed was a person. It wouldn't happen so often if personhood was terribly important. Finally, beneath all those layers, there was... not comfort, but understanding. A feeling that this was tolerable, even if it wasn't preferable. Emily wasn't a murdurer. She'd done what she'd had to do. She'd protected her friends.

She wasn't a murdurer, but she was a killer.

She guzzled a bottle of water along with the rest, but didn't say anything. She avoided Remi, especially, mostly because she didn't know what to say to him after what he'd just done. There were other soldiers there - the men the base commander, or whoever he was, had suggested they talk to, as if they'd be of some help. The man had no idea. Emily wasn't fit to give anyone a pep talk, let alone older, more experienced soldiers.

She found a quiet corner of the base, far away from the sounds of fighting and preparation, and slept soundly for the first time since graduation.

--

Eight years ago

She hadn't slept in days. Her father knew. She tried to hide it from him with makeup (which she wasn't really supposed to wear) and smiles and affection, but he could always tell. Alexander Whitehall knew his daughter too well, and he certainly knew when she was trying to trick him. That night, he'd pretended to go to bed, but instead laid awake, waiting for the sound of the back door. It came about half an hour later.

He found her on the veranda, sitting in the large wooden swing they'd built together not long after her mother died. It was probably his only fond memory from that year. He remembered how vibrant she had been, happiness overcoming the anger and sadness they'd both felt in the weeks after Margie's death. But Emily wasn't like that now. She had become more serious as she'd gotten older, but especially since the nightmares started. He told himself it was just part of growing up, losing childlike innocence and replacing it with worldly knowledge. He didn't believe it for a second. Something - not her mother's passing, not the war, hopefully nothing to do with him or the family - had changed Emily not very long ago. Alex didn't think she could be changed back... and if there had been a way to do so, would he have done it? Would it have been fair to impose himself on his daughter's mind like that?

It was the end of summer, and it was chilly outside, but not so cold you needed a jacket. Emily was sitting forward, arms folded, staring out across the yard. Alex closed the screen door behind him, took the blanket they kept hanging on the back of the swing, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She reclined a little bit.

"You told me the dreams stopped." He said.

"Yeah," Emily said.

Alex came around to the front of the swing and sat down next to her.

"I guess they came back?"

"Yeah."

She slid alongside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"It's not your fault." Emily said.

"I guess I'm glad you feel that way," Alex said. "Are they still just as bad?"

"No. They're longer now. But they scare me less."

"I'm glad about that, too. Nightmares are just nightmares. No reason to be afraid of what's not real."

Emily jerked away from him, back to sitting upright. He could hear the trees waving back and forth in the wind at the far end of the lawn.

"They're real." She said.

"I know they feel that way, Em, but--"

"No. They're real. I know you don't understand, Dad. But they are. I don't think my brain could have imagined them. I don't think anyone's could."

"Why's that?"

"The dream place is made of nothing. Nobody can imagine nothing."

Alex was quiet for a while. The night was quiet, too; it was late in the season for bugs and crickets. Off in the forest, there were more noises, but they were too faint for either Whitehall to take notice. Eventually, Emily rested on his shoulder again. A few minutes later, she put her head on her hands and curled into his lap. He stroked her hair - black, but with a few streaks of blonde growing in.

"You know what?" Alex said, just as he thought she was about to fall asleep.

"What?"

"The thing about dreaming is you always wake up. Even if there's nothing in there, there's something out here. Okay?"

"Okay." Emily said.

She had the dream that night, and nearly every night afterwards, but her father was right: There was always something to wake up to, so that was what she did.
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Rockette 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

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The fight literally bled out of her in trickles of carmine and vermilion, sluicing down the length of her chin in characteristic consistency. Adrenaline left her arms spent and shaking, trembling in the throes of a white-hot pain that conglomerated into a pleasurable lash against her body from where the soldier had struck her; bruises blossomed and Magdalena had never felt so alive. Fighting meant she was viable, aware, taking down her opponent was an acknowledgment to her existence, in the customary of battle, blows exchanged were all that she had - this moment was her own. She had collapsed back to her haunches and with arms supporting her weight she had breathed in the air stagnant with a volatile cocktail of spirits and death brought not by her hands, but the others. A part of her had been subtly annoyed that Aaron had once again rushed upon the situation and impaled his blade deep into the juncture of where Omega’s armour had been the weakest; a true vulnerability especially when his attention had been directed towards the increasing deconstruction of his chest plate as her volcanic spit had chewed through with an agonizing sluggishness that would have eventually sunk, and melted through his torso. Though in ironic reflection, the dual wielder had spared him a rather torturous death, Magdalena smirked at that, her simper remaining in a curious lift when she rolled to her knees and allowed the finality of battle to wash over her.

The soldier was terrified of his death, eyes wide and gradually dimming with the increasing seconds that dragged out in terrible listlessness, to die was horrifying and to not know what laid beyond even more so. A cavernous void had summoned forth below and above where nothing was seen and nothing was heard, an endless drone of silence had assuaged his senses and he felt no pain in that quick moment when blonde waved before the pit of obsidian Hell. Blue eyes bright and brimming with life and curiosity, just watching and he recognized the demon with her giant ring and then the agony to follow when something, someone, had punctured his veining neck. Fear was acute and numbing when at her shoulder lurked the devilish veneer of something derived from the bowels of a fictional netherworld. When her head tipped to one side, so did the hellish beast and when she touched his brow clammy with sweat, the creature mirrored her action and expressions that fissure across his ebony shell. If there ever was an after life, he hoped not that this being was the harbinger of the dead.

It was a morbid pass time that was really a quick interval of sadistic curiosity that had overtaken her in the singular moment. Her former annoyance with two particular men was banished when she reclined back on her booted heels and accompanied the soldier in his bereavement.

“Does it hurt?”

There wasn’t an answer, for the dead don’t talk, no matter what she saw in her nightmares. From the back of her mind she could feel the presence of eyes and shadowy smiles, of contradicting visions and forms that murmured their glee and want, of when she swiped her hand across her magmatic mouth and tasted her own blood. She wonders if Nautilus has burial rituals and events for their fallen soldiers, and she then wonders if it’s appropriate for her ponder on such things; for this is the enemy and they’re meant to die by their hands. Magdalena only brushes her fingers across his eyes lids and surrenders his body to the writhing darkness that has been eagerly awaiting this gift; this contribution and sacrifice. Hands pull and sink the corpse into the depths of whatever it is, of whatever this is and she doesn’t really know what to think of it when the body vanishes entirely by the ravenous Despair that follows and canters within her soul.

It’s not like she has anyone to talk to about it, not really. So she guesses that she’ll never know and perhaps this is for the best. She misses the darkness she had been held within during her times at Oak Ridge and before in her youth, to be the blind in this ugly world, and it really is ugly she decides and braces palms to her knees as she stands at her small height. Instinct bids her to retrieve her weapon, once again, and she welcomes it home across her spine. There isn’t time to reflect, to judge her actions in this campaign, for the gaping maw of the war zone is just beginning to yield open and Magdalena ascends upon it with eager hounds galloping across the silvery plain of her mind and here Chaos awakens with the soldier’s dead body firm in its jagged mouth.

┊» oak ridge; BATW●

Revenge is an interesting thing, it opens your mind and wills you to do whatever you have to do. It paves a way of relentless whims and opportunities often shadowed and less favoured. He doesn’t really care for these details though, only that he manages to get what he wants.

Julian had stood at the gates of Oak Ridge for a long time, no longer seeing them but still staring as if will alone could siphon her back to his side. His hand is burning from where he touched her and his visage is still contoured into a scowl, he really really hates losing. He should have known that Cid would undermine and move against him, that his intention of handing Magdalena over to BATW was just an original fake to cajole him into lax simplicity and to hold off his original intentions. He had spoken to her after their graduation and he can remember the haunting blue of her eyes and it makes him angry all over again. There’s something about her expressionless countenance that infuriates him beyond all reason as if she has to temper herself constantly around the world and leaves nothing but a doll esque shell. Oh but if you put her next to her friends, there’s a shadow of a smile there, fleeting of course but the simple fact that the smallest of grins slips across her revere is just enough for someone like him to notice, he who is constantly watching and observing.

And it’s not just Magdalena, he watches them all, they’re interesting subjects really, every single one has a potential to be used and exploited for the powers they harbour within. His curiosity is incapable of being sated with the lesser subjects that had been provided to his department, they’re capable yes, but the experimentation's themselves require individuals of more efficient power and quantity. He needed Guardians.

Julian mused over the various files scattered hazardously across his tables, littered with glasses and tubes, metallic painted black and computers calibrating their predetermined data and analysis's. It’s a common print used in their everyday typing, but the brands across the sheaf of every single paper is what he’s interested in, how many times as he read them? But these are more than the WARG files, these are personal collections and details about psychological configurations and studies, of psychical capabilities. Of familial lists and their individual relations. That cruel grin that has been his trademark in her nightmares stretches wide across his cheeks, he taps his fingers idly, indicating towards his findings - he’s going to make his move.

And it won’t be pretty.

In foresight when an assistant passes by, to gather reports on the latest spirit calibrations of their newest recruits, she happens to glance at the files left open - perhaps deliberately - and recognizes those that have been highlighted in a crude red. It’s harsh and bright, almost a splotch of blood that clarifies Julian’s sadistic nature hidden beneath the veil of a scientist working towards The Cause.



┊» young and hopeless●

Magdalena had never before been claustrophobic, but as they descended further beneath the shopping mall and were momentarily separated from the world above, it suddenly became more difficult to breath.

Or maybe it was her bruised chest.

The near hour march deeper into the war zone had been a testament to her durability, the process was lethargic in resetting her battered jaw and ribs, the soldier had inflicted internal damage from the brute force he had utilized and she took that into inventory, prepared for the encounters, took that bit of information and wove it into her attack patterns, but her excursion was costing her. The pain in itself was desirable, without a doubt, and indicated by her hyperactive breathing, but within those harsh pants was the subtle wheeze of her agony and small body bruised over and over again. Magdalena accepted the water with a swift flick of her wrist and drank graciously, however, every reflex of her throat made her jaw twinge and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the wince from being illustrated across her indifference. The medical officials paid a special concern to the bruises visible and received a rather uncharacteristic snarl for their efforts which, despite their indicated occupation, made them hasten and move on further down the line of their troupe.

She barely listened to the General though her shadow nervously flitted to and fro between Thael and Olivia when the designated Captain of their charge had been, well, confused in the actuality of it. She wasn’t entirely surprised by it, but witnessing Olivia’s obvious cattiness in result was what perplexed her most, it seemed a tad out of nature for her though she didn’t comment or speculate further - she would have been irate as well. Instead she followed at her usual pace, put aside the pain in her hip and ribs and her attention fell on the soldiers of this near hopeless defense.

Those injured seemed to be seduced by their appearances, their department was legendary, a fantastical evidence of power and ability by the spirits harnessed within them. Her shadows became alive in waves of black and grey at the peppering of emotions permeating the air and every time she breathed, it only reaffirmed the empathetic waves her shadows were swollen with. Her blue eyes naturally fell upon Thael, the literal golden ray of hope in their group of chaotic powers and dark things, he was the framed picture of what these troops needed, he was the hero to step forward in his golden light that she couldn’t stand to behold. In the circumstance should he address them, she naturally backed away, wanting to avoid the entire situation, and passed by the rest for she was in no position to provide toward the backbone of the current morale. A man lifted his head and she met his eyes and it was the same crippling shade of her very own, he was young, just like her and beneath his helmet there was curling blonde a hue darker, dirtier than the threads sweeping into her oculus.

Staring at the past, or was it the future, the potential of it? The could have been, the lost soul, the dead in her dreams.

“You’re in WARG?” He inquired, a sort of awe struck glimmer in the depths of his pain filled realization.

Magdalena hesitated, “I am.”
“Heh, but you’re so...”
“Small.” She very well knew her height was a disadvantage when compared to most.

He chuckled briefly, only to bring a bout of coughing that shook his thin shoulders beneath the bulk of dented armour. His calloused palm cradled his side, one eye fluttering shut as the pain ripped through his lungs and bones.
“I’m sorry, but I, uh, don’t suppose you’d be a healer?”

Blue eyes flickered over to Kimberly, the actual healer addressing Olivia softly and carefully. She kept her eyes on him for a moment before her stare gradually passed over to Aaron, arms crossed defensively.
“No.” She couldn’t even heal herself, thought she wouldn’t admit it, and the idea of absolving her blemishes and bruises was a fluctuating line of wanting and declining. Revitalized: she could be of more use. Battered and broken: she’d be submerged in her anger, her desire, her burning heart. Distracted.
“Oh, I see.” He mumbled and visibly deflated.

She looks at him again, softly, carefully.
“Don’t worry.” Magdalena murmurs, barely catching his ears when he offers her a perplexed glance. The soldiers around him, a group of comfort she supposed, cast eyes on her for a second in their own confusion.
“You won’t die.”

At least not today.
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The Boat

Olivia exited the bridge and made her away to the stern, the night sky and stars above her head; the fantastic rumble of splashing water sporadically tumbling around beneath her feet. She pulled out her phone and texted Kat: ‘Meet me at the stern, by the propellers. /Olivia.’

It felt she had just closed her eyes when the high pitched whine of a message received broke the hypnotic sound of the waves crashing against the boat's hull. Surely they couldn't have arrived already? No, definitely not. So what was it? Kat opened her eyes slowly as she reached out for her phone. The screen flickered to life as she unlocked it. A simple text from Olivia was waiting for her. Just when she thought she was going to get some sleep. ‘K,’ she responded. It took her a minute or two to stand, but once she did she knew she wouldn't be able to get some sleep even if she had any time left after she saw to whatever Olivia wanted. That ship had sailed, so to speak. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and left her room. Stepping out onto the deck was invigorating. The ocean air filled her lungs as she stared up at the stars. The night sky over the ocean was supposed to be one of the clearest. No light pollution out here, besides the boat itself. A quick walk to the back of the boat and she was face to face with Olivia. “What d'ya need, love? I was this close to a nice nap.” She said, smiling.

Olivia pondered on things past with her arms crossed over her stomach and gaze pointed towards the horizon. It was something about that endless distance that mesmerized her beyond any form of logic or reason. Kat’s voice broke Olivia’s brief, though superfluous mediation. Olivia’s stern looking face quickly transformed into its usual warmth upon seeing her dark haired equal, thus she spoke: “Oh, I’m sorry sweetie! I didn’t mean to wake you, I feel terrible now.” Olivia embraced Kat for a quick squeeze, accompanied by a lighthearted chuckle. With one arm hanging around Kat’s shoulder, as if Olivia was some stud trying to seduce her, Olivia continued: “The Captain thinks we can make this rusty old thing go faster if we put our spirits to work, and guess what, your pretty face is the only one around here with the proper connections! So, do you think you could take those spirits for a whirl in the water and push this thing along?”

“Hmm...” Kat mumbled as she leaned over the railing to look down at the propeller. “Yeah, I guess I could help a bit.” Kat straightened out her back and closed her eyes, focusing on the water around the boat. With a bit of effort, she was able to make it flow more efficiently around the hull, reducing the drag on the boat. She also extended her will to the water near the propellers. A bit of extra force applied there would make it go faster, she believed. There was, though, a limit as to how fast she could speed the thing up. “I think I'm doing the best I can,” she stated plainly, her eyes still closed. "I don't know much about boats, ironically, but I'm pretty sure I'm doing something.”

Olivia could see the marvelous spirits performing a twirling dance with the tumbles and foam of the ocean, playful as they were in the enchanting glow, of some turquoise coloration, that emanated from their ribbon forms. Some manner of rippled streams of water slowly floated about and around the girls as Kat basked in her trance and focus, which Olivia was mesmerized by. The dark haired belle surely knew how to be one with her spirits and elements. Olivia’s arm, which had previously rested around Kat’s neck and shoulder, gently retracted behind the girl’s back upon which a hand remained and slightly rubbed. “How are you feeling, sweetie? It seems like everything has been moving so fast that we haven’t had a chance to talk,” Olivia said.

Kat opened her eyes after she got her spirits in motion. They’d be doing most of the work for the time being. She smiled and turned to Olivia, leaning back against the railing. “Me? I'm fine for the most part,” she said, smiling. “I’m more interested in how you’re feeling.” For a moment, Kat was distracted by her spirits flowing freely through the air. They certainly felt at home here. They were as vibrant as she had ever seen them. Looking back down at Olivia, Kat continued. “As I’m sure you’re aware, all eyes have been on you today. How you holding up in a leading position? I think things have been going well so far. Certainly there was some surprise when you were announced; hell you could see Thael quite literally dim the moment the words were spoken..." Kat stopped there, giving Olivia another warm smile.

Some delightful, radiant sparks slowly emanated from Olivia’s person as some of Katherine’s spirits approached and touched the girl’s skin—precious water and brilliant lightning colliding with one another was an enchanting sight, compatible yet rival at the same time. Kat’s smile was becharming enough to force the corner of Olivia’s lips to retract and show her pearls as well, irresistible as it was. Olivia turned away from Kat and faced the ocean, tilting her head and gaze towards the sky again, resting her hands and arms against her hips on either side of her body. She sighed, as the brief smile vanished. “I’m glad that you’re alright, but somehow it feels as if everyone is holding back on me,” Olivia said, tilted her head downwards ever so slightly, and closed her eyes. “It… it feels as if people are not telling me what they want to say. You wouldn’t do that, would you, Kat? If you wanted to tell me something, you would say it, no matter what, right?” Olivia said and turned around to face Kat again.

“Bitch, you know I would,” Kat said giggling. “Anything in particular you think they'd want to say?”

Kat’s affectionate nickname for Olivia blessed the otherwise moody moment with much needed levity. The girl sounded akin to the individuals in Olivia’s other circle of friends, kindred such as Britney and Stacey, whom always named each other words like bitch and slut. In Britney’s case, ‘dumb bitch’ was a popular choice. A flabbergasted expression and bantam chuckle erupted from Olivia, succeeded by a wide smile. “Oh, I don’t know—you little slut—just something about me being the best there is,” Olivia tittered. Katherine had successfully guided Olivia back on track for the time being, perhaps even without knowing it herself, with a brief respite from the burdens of command. Olivia gently caressed Kat’s check with her palm as she passed the girl by: “Thanks, sweetie—you know just what to say and at the right time,” Olivia said and left the dark haired belle to her own devices. “Come back inside when you’re ready.”
Norton City: Battle II

Olivia managed herself onto her feet again with some assistance from Thael. The Mech had been destroyed by her hands, though not entirely. Whoever it was that had piloted the metal contraption was surely dead by now, either from the explosion itself or burned alive by the flames the followed. Olivia had the advantage and privilege of not having to face the person she had just killed. In the heat of the moment, she was unsure of how to feel, but she was positive that whatever reaction that she might have to this experience would surely emerge at some inconvenient moment later on. Some of her friends, however, did not have the same privilege as she did; they had to face the unfortunate soldiers that fell beneath their weapons. While some could accept the outcome of this confrontation, others could not and held onto it with everything they held dear.

*

Olivia panted, wiped some dust off of her face, while she walked with heavy, determined steps over to where Kimberly had failed to understand what war was about. The Storm Guard had passed out from some magnificent physical marvel performed by Kim, but it did not matter. Olivia stopped next to Kim, who was staring at the unconscious soldier on the ground. “What’s this…? There’s no room for this…, Kim. That man dies before we move…,” Olivia said and pointed the edge of her Gunblade at the soldier’s neck, ready to puncture his throat with it. Then she stared right into Kim’s eyes with a metallic, cold gaze of which he and their friends were not familiar. “It’s not our job to take prisoners… so, either you do it or I do it,” she waited.
Norton City: Mistaken Identity

*
The man who was quickly becoming Olivia’s primary, personal advisor spoke true words of intelligence, respectful in his tone and posture as he addressed his Captain. His recommendation only enhanced Olivia’s already formed conceptions of the most sensible action, but his validation was exactly what she needed in order to fully convince herself. She committed to his advice: “You’re right. Also, speak with me again once you’ve learned what you can,” Olivia said and tilted her head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of Remi behind her, “see what you can learn from these soldiers; someone is bound to know something about those platforms, if nothing else,” she finished and left the man to his own devices.




Kimberly stared at the injured soldiers around them in silence. It was apparent that Norton City didn’t have enough medics. “Speak to them, hear their stories, encourage them,” the Gunnery Sergeant said, “It helps them more than you know.” Kimberly walked up to Olivia. “Olive… if… we’re not leaving soon… can…” the brunet hesitated for a moment, like a child asking his mother if he could do something that she would most likely disapprove of, “can… I heal the soldiers? T-they… ike… mi … t…” Kimberly’s voice volume lowered into inaudible levels around the end of his sentence. His head lowered down as if to match his voice volume.

Olivia felt deep and great sorrow for the weakened and injured incapacitated on the ground, staring up at her and the rest of the friends with awe and reverence akin to that of divine beings. Some of these men and women had worshiped the Earth and spirits their whole lives and now they stood before the very embodiments of their beliefs. Olivia could not imagine that their experience would be anything similar to meeting an actual deity, or perhaps a Kami, but if ever there was a physical manifestation of whatever it was that basked with the stars and devised the universe, Guardians were it. Even if Olivia did not empathize, she would never have rejected the Gunnery Sergeant’s request or Kim’s desire to do what he could where feasible. “Do what you have to, Kim. I’ll walk with you,” she answered.

Kimberly’s head snapped up with a ghastly smile on his face. “Thanks… Olive.” Kimberly turned to the first injured soldier in sight and kneeled down. The soldier’s body jerked when he saw the giant rush towards him. His facial expression full of pain added a hint of fear, surprise, and eventually curiosity.

“The horrors this man must have endured… to go through hell and back… only to see some giant with a lunatic’s smile running straight at him… I’m pretty sure he thought his time on Atlas was over.” Kimberly heard his roommate say. Kimberly couldn’t agree more.

Kimberly erased his smile to put the soldier at ease then let his ears exam the man like a sonography. There were a few fractured bones, one completely broken limb, and internal bleeding here and there. The raven-haired man’s hand reached to touch the soldier, who tensed up and attempted to back way, “NO! DO…n…t?” The soldier tilted his head quizzically. He expected a jolt of unbearable pain, but no such feeling came. Instead, the pain he had been experiencing previously started to recede. His injuries were healing.

In the eyes of his fellow Guardians, the spirits within and around Kimberly began to emit a comforting light. The longer Kimberly used healing magic, more plant spirits gathered to form what looked like a floral-plant arrangement made up of light around Kimberly’s person. The plant spirits’ vines tried to reach over to Kimberly’s childhood friends almost automatically. While some continued to stretch as far as it could to reach a friend —and failing—, those closer to Kimberly had spectral plants touching them, searching them, attempting to heal them even when there were no physical wounds to heal.

“Kami damn it,” Ghost struggled against the crowd of spectral plants that bombarded him with attention, “I’m fine! I’m fine! Get off!”

The light and ethereal plants vanished at the same time Kimberly stopped healing the soldier. Satisfied with his work, it was hard for the giant to keep himself from smiling again. “I… can only… do minor… healing,” Kimberly warned the soldier: “rest… and eat… if you want… to completely… recover.”

When Kimberly had done what he felt was right, what society expected of someone in his shoes, Olivia approached the meek soldier and crouched before him, her body barely inches away. If ever there was a time that the girl would squeeze every ounce out of her effort, this was that moment. She attempted to look as tiny and harmless as she possibly could by pouting her eyebrows together and allowing a warm smirk to appear—her facial expression was that of pity, however not condescending.

“What’s your name?”
“M-my name? D-Daniels…., Ma’am, Trey Daniels.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Trey, my name is Olivia Celestine,” she said, and then she glanced at Kim: “and this is Kimberly Faye,” returning eye contact to the soldier.
“You… y-you… are Guardians?”
“That’s right.”
“What…d-did you do… to me?” the soldier inquired, looking at Olivia, but then at Kim.
Olivia seated herself next to Trey and looked to Kim as well. The soldier seemed confused and afraid, but it was only natural. The simple life of being a soldier, a grunt, was probably all that he knew. Things like Guardians and spirits, magic—whatever you wanted to call it—were a distant fantasies to people like Trey Daniels, and difficult to understand.

Kimberly had no idea why Olivia was looking at him. Was she expecting him to answer Trey’s question? Really? She knew that Kimberly was as skillful at talking as much as a sloth was a master of running. Why was she making him talk? Couldn’t she answer the question? Olivia had better communication skills than Kimberly would ever have in a hundred lifetimes. The giant’s eyes darted around, searching for an appropriate answer that could satisfy Trey. After a long pause, he finally replied, “I healed you.” Silence.

Ghost stood there, staring directly at Kimberly with a straight face. He began to clap mockingly. “Bravo. That was brilliant. Thank you, Captain Obvious. No one would have known that unless you stated it.” Feeling his face turning hot, Kimberly combed his hair with his fingers so that his black hair would cover up his face more. “Sorry,” he whispered. That was a stupid answer. "No, duh." Shut up.

The poor soldier was still confused and bewildered at what it meant, exactly. Olivia’s head was half way tilted downwards, yet her eyes were staring at Kim. Her mouth was slightly open, relaxed, and her eyebrows were pushed together quite firmly, which formed an expression that could only be described with the words ‘are you kidding me?’ Olivia looked to the soldier and began to speak, caught slightly off guard.

“Uhm… what Kim meant was… that his spirits set your body and mind on the right path again, sooner than they would naturally, which means that you’ll recover from your injuries much faster,” she said.
“Well…t-thank you very much, sir,” Trey said to Kim, “I’m very grateful, but I don’t understand how it all works… with spirits and such things,” he said.
“What happened to you, Trey?”
“We were ambushed by what seemed an endless amount of those soldiers with jetpacks. It was a massacre…,” he said and cringed, “they seemed to come out of nowhere, death from above as they say. I mean… t-there… was nothing we could do, that I could do, so I… I hid… I hid underneath by best friend’s dead body,” he said and broke into uncontrolled sobbing. Olivia immediately repositioned herself onto her knees and wrapped her arms around the poor soldier and pulled him close. “I’m a coward,” his muffled voice, drenched in tears, sounded from within Olivia’s embrace. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Trey,” the girl said. She then looked to Kim and spoke soundless words to him, moving her lips and jaw excessively: Say something.

Even though his hair covered his eyes, Kimberly could feel Olivia glaring at him, expecting him to speak again. “You’d think, as Captain, she’d understand the extent of each of her soldier’s abilities. Maybe she does fail as a leader.” Kimberly saw Ghost pass by him through the curtain of hair. Ghost looked down at the crying soldier with annoyance, “what’s with it with these types of people?” The man has been through a lot. “And so has everyone else.” Ghost sighed deeply before exploding into a rant, "so what if you were a coward? What would have being 'brave' accomplished in that situation? You're alive because you wanted to see another day instead of trying to be some hero. What's wrong with using what you can to survive? If your friend was your best friend, I don't think he-she would be mad at you for hiding under him-her."

Kimberly’s roommate smirked, "unless you're the one who killed him-her." Hey. “What? It’d be the perfect crime if he did!”

Ghost turned back to the soldier, "if your friend cared about you, he-she would have been happy you survived; that his-her useless dead carcass managed to save even one life. He-she saved you. And what are you doing? Regretting that you lived? If you feel so bad why don't you use that life your friend saved to save other lives? Survive this war. Live a long life, raise a family, tell your grandchildren about your friend... Don't let your friend's death be in vain. Don't use his-her death as an excuse to do nothing... It should be a reason to change, for the better." His head turned to Olivia's direction, "don't let the dead be a burden." Ghost glanced over his shoulder to look at Kimberly, "if they are, you're better off forgetting about them."

Kimberly stood there in another long silence, before realizing how he must have been standing quietly the whole time. He needed to cheer up the soldier somehow. Olivia wanted him to give Trey some comforting words. "Wars... are won by surviving," his voice barely managed to say, "th-the... more that survive... the better..." Ghost stared at him: “Seriously?” Kimberly mumbled something under his breath and excused himself to continue healing other injured soldiers.

Olivia gave a gasp as a plethora of words came out of Kim’s mouth, some of them quite rude even if their intent were genuine. The poor man regressed even deeper into his sobbing, Olivia embracing the man further. She stared at Kim with annoyance, then she whispered loudly: “What’s wrong with you?! Do you even know what you just said? How do you get off calling someone’s friend a ‘useless dead carcass’?” Olivia stared at the man as he excused himself from the situation. “That’s right, go on… we’ll talk about his later,” she finished.

***


After tending to the poor soldier for just a few more minutes, Olivia left the man to give him some space and time to think. She trod amongst the injured and the nervous, giving her words of advice and words of comfort where they were needed. Some of the soldiers seemed to appreciate it, whereas other did not seem to care, but it was all the same to Olivia. If she could help, then that was great. If her help was not needed, then at least she had tried. Soon enough, the girl stumbled upon Magdalena—not by accident, but by intention. Olivia waited a few steps away from the girl as she addressed some soldiers who appeared to be bewildered by her words, perhaps even distraught. Even if what she meant was encouraging, her tone did not inspire. When Magdalena had said what there was to be said, Olivia approached her and led the girl to sit down with her: “Sit with me,” she said. The brunette rumbled through a few things of hers and pulled forth a ‘potion’-syringe that she had procured in Doral. The medical device was fairly bantam, no larger than than a few inces from tip to handle, made of plastic. The contents were of some glowing, asparagus-cerulean coloration, ever flowing and evolving. Olivia occasionally glimpsed at Magdalena as the syringe was being prepared, and when she caught eyecontact, she spoke:

“You think that nobody will notice when you stroll around looking like that?—you think that I won’t notice?”
Olivia gently touched and led Magdalena’s forearm to rest on Olivia’s tight where she was seated. The girl paved way for the syringe to be inserted into the pale, fragile skin. However, before proceeding with the treatment, Olivia spoke again: “I know you don’t like it when people touch you, let alone stick things into your skin, but this is me now… just remember that before you decide to do something foolish,” Olivia said, and then smoothly inserted the syringe into Magdalena’s dark vein, clearly visible on the white backdrop. The revitalizing contents of the ‘potion’ instantenously let itself flow through the girl’s system, coursing through her veins and blood, respecting all the internal, infernal properties of her body. Whatever injuires that were still wreaking havoc began to recede, perhaps not instantly, but a matter of minutes would surely do the trick. When the modest procedure was finished, Olivia gently pulled the syringe out of Magadalena’s skin, and quickly applied a small piece of cotton that she had previously ripped off of the syringe itself. “See… better already,” Olivia said, glancing at the girl’s mesmerizing eyes once more.



Norton City: Sewers (Boss Fight I)
The entrance into the sewer systems was not elegant. The friends practically tumbled down the rabbit hole into a darkness for which they were ill prepared; treading on each other and other tiny, alive things on the moist, bricked floor. “Aow!” Olivia suddenly exclaimed in the dark. “Jyn! You stepped on my foot,” she chuckled in what was an utmost superfluous pain, humorous more so than anything else. The narrow passages and dim light did not offer much in terms of assistance when it came to navigation or personal comfort, being the epitome of spaces for various phobias; tiny insects hastily vanished into cracks and cubbyholes, some manner of ripples sailed across the surface of the greenish pestilent waters, and the foul stench was nearly unbearable. How could they have ended up in place like this? Surely, this shortcut would spare the friends hours, perhaps days of fighting the enemy and potentially never reach their destination, but Olivia began to question whether or not it was worth it. She had become so used to being superficial and pretty that she had forgotten what being in the (literal) gutters was like. This was the perks of war, a reality check.

The trek through the sewers was a nightmare. Some passages were spacious enough to allow Olivia to stand up straight, but most of the time she had to tilt her head downwards. She could only imagine what kind of Hell this was for the mountains of the group, Thael and Kim—they were almost crawling on the floor, it seemed. And then there were the insects, which Olivia was uncannily uncomfortable with. She had no idea why the tiny creatures insisted on nibbling at her skin and crawling up her legs. Surely, she was used to boys trying to crawl up her legs, but these foul things were much worse-…. or, perhaps not. When they finally reached an expansive intersection, in which the ceiling was beyond the two meters that Thael and Kimberly reached on a daily basis, Olivia called for a short breather. All manner of commotion could be heard from above; the screams of soldiers, explosions from various weapons, and the screeches from what Olivia could only assume to be xenomorphs. Humanity had not had a confrontation amongst themselves like this in many years, ever since the Calamity struck, and the mysterious lack of motive and provocation for the attack bewildered everyone. However, the xenomorphs did not care. This was the ideal moment to strike at both sides of the battle.

The intersection-waterworks of the sewers was akin to some mess hall of military structures, however, clad with numerous vertical pipes, valves of different shapes and sizes, and the sound of heavily channeled water running about their designated paths and filters. There were also a number of old, wooden crates on which to sit. They appeared to be empty and ready to fall apart. Whoever had left them here did so in a hurry. Perhaps they dated back to the Calamity. Olivia thought she heard some dark, growling noise coming down from one of the passages, of which there were at least six leading to the intersection. She quickly ignored it as it did not repeat. However, moments later, she heard it again, but this time it appeared to be louder and closer. Then suddenly she saw it. With only a slight churning to mark its rise to the surface of the large pond-like gathering of tumbling water in the middle of the intersection, the thing slid into view above the pestilent, dark waters. Vast, Caudata-like, and loathsome, it darted like a stupendous monster of nightmares into full view of the friends, about which it flung its gigantic scaly arms, the while it bowed its hideous head and gave vent to certain measured sounds.

*

“What in the world is that thing?!” Olivia gasped at the horrid creature. Whatever it was, it was not about to calmly cuddle with the friends and stroke its scaly skin against their legs. Without warning, it suddenly twisted its body in a forceful movement that chucked waves of disgusting water around and its tail across the space where the friends were situated, destroying some of the old crates and busting several pipes that whined with steam. This creature was clearly some form of hive-mind xenomorph capable of directing the smaller creatures on the surface. Perhaps the friends had accidentally stumbled upon its hiding grounds, or maybe the attack was deliberate. After being thrown about and soaked by sewer-water, Olivia did not hesitate to draw her tagger gun and immediately fire a round into the flesh of the creature, and then unsheathe her Gunblade. This fight was going to be different from what they had ever encountered before.





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-----Battle II-----

“What’s this…? There’s no room for this…, Kim. That man dies before we move…,” Olivia pointed her Gunblade at the soldier’s neck. “It’s not our job to take prisoners… so, either you do it or I do it”

Kimberly pushed Olivia away from Storm Guard Delta, picked up the unconscious body, and held it close to his body. The giant shook his head feverishly. “Who said… it can’t be? No one… forbids us… from… taking prisoners. Why… why can’t we… take prisoners?” The bear hug around the Nautilus soldier tightened more. “I thought you… wanted to fight… xenomorphs… not slaughter people…” Kimberly stared right into his Captain’s cold gaze. She changed.
---Norton City---

Kimberly’s sensitive ears heard Olivia scolding him even with the distance between them. “What’s wrong with you?! Do you even know what you just said? How do you get off calling someone’s friend a ‘useless dead carcass’?”

Kimberly froze for a second. Several thoughts came to him at once. He had many questions, but only one thought stood out from the rest.

Olive cares more about dead bodies than an actual person’s life?

Something inside Kimberly twisted its shape, turning into something dark and ugly. The animal spirits inside him were unsettled.

Kimberly whispered, “their spirits... moved on… there’s nothing left... in a dead body.” He wasn’t sure if Olivia or the bawling soldier heard him. He wasn’t sure if they would have cared.

She cares more about a dead body… than a person’s life.

Ghost burst out laughing. The hysterical laughter continued to ring in Kimberly’s ears as he worked on the other soldiers. It only eventually died out when WARG began their decent into the sewers.
-----Norton City: Sewers-----

The Norton City’s sewers emulated Kimberly’s mood perfectly. It was dark, gloomy, cramped, noisy, hard to breathe, and filled with a Kami awful smell that seeped into Kimberly’s helmet. It was difficult to imagine that people could work in such an environment.

I don’t know how Mr. Rose managed to clean sewers for a living.
“Obviously he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter did he?” Ghost flew over the contaminated wastewater. “Hey, maybe Nancy’s dad is floating around here somewhere!”
I honestly doubt it.

As the group continued their journey through the narrow sewers, Kimberly became increasing distracted by an unusual noise. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, especially with the loud ruckus above him. He could have ---should have--- brought it to his Captain’s attention, but he didn’t. His sensitive hearing always picked up things that could be ignored. It was possible that he was just hearing the heated battle occurring above ground. The past few conversations with Olivia also made the giant reluctant to talk to his Captain.

He should have warned the team, regardless. They may not have been able to dodge the tail swipe, but if Kimberly had warned them ahead of time, the group may have been prepared for the hideous aquatic creature.
---- Boss Fight I----

Kimberly was the last person and thing to get hit by the wave of sewage and the aquatic xenomorph’s tail. He half expected himself to be flung across the confined area, but even to his surprise, Kimberly had grabbed onto the monster’s tail, feet firmly planted to the ground. He could feel the earth spirits holding onto his feet, helping their host stay where he stood. After mentally thanking the spirits, the arms around the tail held onto it with renewed strength. The giant did his best to keep the gargantuan fish-like-amphibian’s wild thrashing to a minimum, hoping that it would give his friends enough time to recover.

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The Battle of Norton City
Several Hours Earlier


The air in the shadows of the woods felt as if it was trying to suffocate Aaron as he walked aimlessly through the endless rows of blackened trees. He had been here several times in the past but no other time had he felt this type of atmosphere. His sheaths were the only sound that could be heard in the stillness of the night around hiim which was beginning to wear down his mental fortitude. Having walked as far as he could for the moment, Aaron stopped and took in his surroundings, and in all directions was nothing more than ink and shadow.

"Poor helpless Aaron, lost in the woods with no one to help him."

The sudden appearance of a voice startled Aaron and made him draw his swords. As he waited for the mysterious voice to say something else Aaron had a minor epiphany about his chosen tools of war: their subtle curving, the feel of the wrapping in his hands, the almost melodious ringing when he drew them, they all played like a symphony in his ears. Finally getting irritated waiting for the voice to say something else, Aaron made a call out in the dark to see if he could lure whoever it was out into the open.

"Show yourself coward...a real man faces his opponents instead of hiding in the dark like a coward!"

Almost instantly after his sentence a loud and boisterous laughter came from all around him, the sound itself seemed to dig deep into Aaron's skin as he felt it physically shudder from his toes to the back of his neck,

"You are certainly one to talk of cowardice Aaron....", a black hooded figure emerged from behind a tree close to Aaron to which Aaron immediately turned to face him. His appearance, or what Aaron could see of him, was ghastly. From under his hood two beady bloodshot eyes glared wildly at him, what Aaron could see of his face repulsed him, the grey blotchy was riddled by open wounds and seeping black blood. His lips were thin and cracked and as they parted they revealed a twisted black-toothed grin, teeth chipped and broken almost as if this man had been gnashing furiously at something. This was the visage that stared back at Aaron, and he could say without a doubt that for the first time in a very long time...he was afraid.

"Who are you and what do you want."

"Really?...you don't know who I am? Oh come now Aaron...that really hurts."

The spectator grabbed his chest where his heart was in faux sadness,

"After all we've known each other for years and you still don't know my name...shame on you Aaron."

Once again a loud and shrill laughter pierced the otherwise silent forest, it was almost unnerving at how utterly callous the laugh sounded, it was the sound of a complete psychopath that held no regard for anything, not even his own life.

"I don't know who you are or what you want but get out of my way...I'm getting out of here."

"You will only get them killed you know...you're too weak to truly protect them."

Aaron stopped in his tracks, he could feel the bubbling anger begin to rise within him as he turned and faced this "person" no longer with fear but with intent to kill. The person pointed a gnarled and bony finger at Aaron and flashed a twisted grin that stretched from what he assumed was ear to ear,

"Now that is the Aaron that I know."

"Now you've pissed me off, I'm going to enjoy running by blade down your throat."

Before he could charge at this phantom, a small group of what Aaron could only assume was Xenos appeared between him and his target. Without thinking Aaron charged into the fray wildly but precisely cutting down every Xeno that got in his way. As he hacked and slashed his way through Aaron couldn't help but feel an over whelming sense of euphoria rush over him. Every perfect thrust, every squelching sound of blade rending flesh, the smell of blood filled his nostrils as he felt a grin stretch across his face. Finally he had slayed every other adversary save for one the phantom with the black-toothed grin. As he approached the phantom he was met with yet another raucous laugh which once again made him stop in his tracks.

"You still don't get it do you...", he said as he pointed behind Aaron to the group that he had just slaughtered.

As Aaron turned around, his eyes widened in horror as he gazed upon the massacre which he had caused. The creatures that he had thought were Xenos changed their shapes to become the mutilated body of his friends, with Olivia's head resting at his feet beaming her naturally warm grin. He could feel tears roll down his face as he fell to his knees and holding Olivia's head in his arms and let out an agonizing scream that filled the whole of the silent woods. As Aaron began to bawl uncontrollably like a child the phantom appeared in front of him still brandishing that black-toothed grin.

"Like I said...too weak"
==============================================================================

Aaron jumped up form his bead letting a quick scream of terror escape his throat. As he looked around and saw the darkness of his cabin and quickly turned to see the port side window and the tulmotous sea churning outside, Aaron brushed the cold sweat of his brow. It had all been a dream, but he knew that it could become real.
==============================================================================

Arrival at the Norton City Command Center


The vile dream he had the night before still haunted Aaron as the made their way closer to the command center. He had spent the last several miles of travel in silence contemplating on what had happened and what it could all mean. With an almost automaton like reaction Aaron took that water provided by whoever it was that gave it to him and quickly downed the bottle in a single gulp. As he tossed the spent bottle aside and silently followed the group in the heart of command center where Aaron halfheartedly listened to the commanding officer give Thael and Liv the rundown of the situation within the city. The rest of the time in the heart of the Norton City resistance HQ passed like a blur since Aaron's mind was too preoccupied with the events of the dream, at one point he had thought to try and pull Liv aside and ask her advice but with the events between them on the boat still fresh on his mind he decided against it.
==============================================================================

Boss Battle


The full brunt of the creatures attack hit Aaron like a freight train sending him flying into the wall which knocked the breath out of him. Silently kicking himself for not anticipating the attack Aaron took the opportunity that Fuzzy had given the group to go on the offensive, with a quick dash and leap Aaron landed on the tail which Fuzzy kept in a death grip and charged up the creatures spine slashing here and there along his way. Once he had reached a point that he calculated for perfect angle, Aaron leapt from the creatures back and dashed out in front of it and unleashed a sharp gust of wind hitting the creature in what Aaron assumed was his eyes. The blood curdling roar unleashed by the creature had proved that his assumption was correct but before Aaron had an opportunity to dash around to the other side the creature swiped at him with his front "feet" giving Aaron just enough time to bring his swords up to block sending him flying back towards its tail and landing just a few feet away from Fuzzy.
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Rockette 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

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┊» out post●
Magdalena had lingered among the despairing soldiers for a few moments longer, inquiring towards their collective experiences of the entire assault and commenting vaguely upon what they had seen and bore witness to. Their testimonies weren’t much to glean from, but their fears and worries inflicted her empathetic shadow with precision and the obscurity wavered from it all, clinging to her spine and shoulders, slinking across her form as if unable to grasp purchase on her body. It was distracting, like a constant hum behind her, but she refused to acknowledge it should those own crippling worries and fear assuage her conviction. The troops noticed, that she wasn’t surprised by, their stares were bidden with admiration and a misplaced awe that was only characteristic by circulated stories and rumours. When one reached out, tentative and curious, she jerked back with a well worn grimace and a thinly veiled glower, the soldier yelped his alarm and only then did she realize that her shadow had, quite literally, vanished all together. There was no cast darkness of a silhouette and she felt the slow glide and slither of something beneath her skin and across her spine. Magdalena shuddered, bunched her shoulders and immediately retreated, drawing back and finding something else occupy her - distract her successfully.

She wove thin arms around his middle, her direction unknown and thus she did not care, but she did not make it far. Brief alarm flashed across his face, burdened in her eyes and heavy on her shoulders that were crushed suddenly by the weight of shadow and pain. Magdalena parted her lips to protest, but memory and many circumstances reminded her that there was no refusing Olivia, the woman had often dragged Magdalena from her room to attend whichever affairs were deemed memorable. And this was no different when she guided her and bid her to sit, and so she did, reclining to her posterior uneasily and watching silently as she prepared the syringe.

Magdalena had no words, for what could she say? If she denied would it be refusing her Captain, or her friend?

She diverted her eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to meet Olivia’s gaze searching and flickering over her bruised and battered self. It was only by a chance, a cursory flicker of her eyes when blue caught together in a stare down, and she flinched at it — meeting the eyes of her friends: she felt inflicted and drawn, tempered and yet disturbed by anything and everything she saw in their gazes. Magdalena struggled under those eyes and her shadow, having shrunken away, bloomed suddenly across her shoulders in waving apparitions of her unease and Olivia’s stubbornness to see her better.

She had no answer, nothing concrete and bearing sense to why Magdalena had allowed her wounds and blemishes to remain. She never had given spoken reason to these nuances of hers, such abrasions were commonplace when it came to the petite blonde and her figure, but here, in the open gates of War she couldn’t have, and apparently afford, her usual luxuries of distracting pain and anguish.

“I know you would have, I was just hoping you would leave it be,” she muttered, her arm tabled across her thigh.

Foolish. . .

Her warning was subtle, almost friendly in its advisement, a consciousness reminder that this was her, a friend, a kinder soul that wasn’t trying to hurt her. It was like comforting the habits of a frigid and often troubled animal. The potion coursing through her was a cooling sensation, burned and assaulted by the natural heat of her skin and things within, it made her lips thin in a tight lipped grimace despite the alleviation of her wounds. Bruises shimmered from the palour of her skin and lesions finally began to seal closed, forming scars, though not every single laceration and anguish was spared from her body. Magdalena’s internal injuries though would take something more potent than one syringe of Potion, but it was enough, for the moment. The blonde flexed her arm, curling fingers into her palm when Olivia applied pressure with the cotton and met her gaze once again, this time without flinching.

“I know I should thank you,” she began, drawing her limb back to cradle it against her chest. “But you could have saved it for someone else, I would have been okay, I always am.” Magdalena sighed, a soft sound of exhalation that was edged in something else when she stood up and began her aforementioned retreat once again — searching in near vain for her distraction. She knew that her sudden departure was perhaps a little disrespectful and dismissive and that a proper thanks of gratitude had been preferable but Magdalena couldn’t bring the words affront, for some unknown reason of designated emotion.

The shadow inflicted individual as she was made her way to the farthest corner she could manage and found Emily already affix in the position and twined deep into sleep. She envied her for the ability to succumb so easily despite the situation and felt the gnawing edge against her soul that was uneasy in a empathetic deluge from the gathered wounded. Magdalena worried the pout of her lip with the sliver of her teeth and plopped down next to Emily, the two had not spoken since their departure from the Academy, but then she had hardly spoken to any one when they left, barring Kim and Aaron of course and the brief conversations passed over their sea side consumption. But to initiate such talk? That wasn’t precisely characteristic of her, she didn’t really know how to, anyways. So she buried her face in the crook of her arm, enjoying her silent company for the moment before her own lethargic qualms took over. In her dwindling consciousness had reclined back and settled against Emily; nestling against her shoulder in a rare moment of submission of her usual chaotic mind and heart.

┊» into the dark●
Within the sewers, Magdalena seemed to fair better than her taller companions, another perk of being as small as she was. She never had to duck or move aside to avoid chaffing brick that oozed and teemed with various and ill favouring gunk. Her foot falls were precise in the dark, guided by the wavering form of her shadow that slid and attached its self often and intermittently to other depressions of shadows and obscurities. The expansion of it swelled and diminished the further they descended into the gloom and she was vaguely reminded of particular nightmares and hallucinating visions that would assault her unconscious thought and reflection.

But when her shadow suddenly froze in its usual whirl and dance, and her spirits receded, Magdalena’s brow fell over her blue eyes and cast a glance towards Kimberly. She looked to him, to gauge his reactions, to observe whether or not there was something he could hear here in the despairing, pestilent waters. Her lips fell into a frown and slight concern creased upon her visage when no one seemed to be alarmed by any potential threat encroaching upon their descendant. The battle warring on above was all she could hear and she could only assume that was what her shadow had been responding to so suddenly. Magdalena thus remained as her usual self of subdued elegance and indifference even when they finally came upon the intersection.

Magdalena remained back, observing when Olivia once again bid that they take a short break. Her lips pursed at that in a slight visual of thought, remembering on the last time she had delegated that they rest, which she once again prepared to advice again and then her shadow began to tremble. It was a quaking darkness that snaked across the waters and slid up the walls, pooling wide in startling action and she became perplexed by it, scanning her stare wide above where the ceiling domed and peaked. Her spirits responded just so, pulsing with their ruby cores, waving in interchanges of various shades of grey and black, washing over her. Magdalena’s eyes widened in alarm, her mouth open to reveal some kind of inquiry and voice of concern. But all of that was for not when waves parted and from the depths emerged a creature Magdalena herself could not fathom in that moment.

┊» boss battle I●

She did not have time to reflect, to think, to calculate a plan of attack or even probe Olivia for one. The small frame she had once considered lucky in the tunnels now was thrown back with incredibly force, Magdalena crashed into one of the boxes and gasped around the pain of it and the harsh lash of the Xenomorph’s gargantuan tail. Her reaction was slow and biding as she shucked sodden tresses from her eyes narrowed with her grimace of disgust of the water now drenching her in unimaginable filth and stench.

Blue eyes, now beginning to darken with ebony and an orange ring, honed in on the tagger illuminating the figure in calculated numbers and data. Weak to fire, that, she could work with. Her darkness warped and thrummed with their cores that nearly matched the increasing tempo of her heart now coursing with a building and cresting adrenaline. Like the others, she prepared for battle, her arm swinging back to grasp her chakram and she swung it around her wrist before lowering into a crouch to assemble some sort of hypothesized plan. Kimberly had grasped hold of the beast’s tail, committing it to place as then Aaron launched up across its spine and lashing in chaotic whirls of his dual blades. She ground her teeth, a gale of wind wasn’t was she was expecting, but it seemed to blind the creature at best. Magdalena took that into her figuring and with a sharp inhale, permitted magma to pool within her mouth in a hellacious heat and thickness. It came around her, steam coiling and rising with the hissing emitted from the busted pipes as trickles of lava fell in boiling spheres.

The water was a slight hindrance in that, but Magdalena did not let it stop her as the monster roared in the most horrendous denotation that tore through her blood and bones. In a charge of hazed intentions, surrendering to the wills of battle, she used Kimberly as a temporary foundation, bracing against his shoulders and sending a slight glance his way as she pivoted off from his body in a launch that sent her across the Xenomorph’s thick back. She landed with a scream that followed with the harsh impale of her chakram as she sliced it down in a deadly spin, the ring circling around her wrist and embedding deep with the force of her momentum. In that, she used her chakram as a base, allowing it to sink deep into the beast’s hide as she drew in a near bestial snarl and spewed her withheld lava down across the assumed cranium. The writhing tendrils of aquatic life similarity boiled with her attack, festering deep into the skin and the enemy screeched aloud with a terrible wail that made her teeth clench against the resonating bellow.

Now it was threatened, the invasion of fire alerted the Xenomorph’s reserved tactics when Magdalena continued to build the magma within her body, skin aglow with it, waving and gleaming beneath the pale complexion. Her shadows conformed across herself, preparing and building with their own attack when the fiend began a sudden inhale. It was a sharp whistle of ominous sound that she didn’t know but the altering smell that accompanied did not bode well for any of them. Magdalena winced and drew her chakram from deep within its flesh and could barely dodge the report of one thick, scaly arm that had risen to strike her. She braced her chakram in front of her, vulnerable in her descent and screamed around the force that launched her aside and back into the disgusting, churning waters.

She coughed and sputtered, gagging the liquid from her throat and blinked through the sudden steam summoned around her body. Magdalena barely managed to find her voice as she felt around for her weapon and winced sharply around the pain invading her senses and flaring her nerves alive.

“Its spirit!” She warned in a agonized yell, once again burdened by a bought of coughing that was accompanied by her own blood and the colours of vermilion.

“It’s going to attack!”

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JJ Doe

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-----Hours After Appleberry Meeting-----

Alone in the laboratory, Dr. Athene Perth was sitting face-to-face with a computer monitor, waiting patiently for the test results. The whole processes may have ended sooner if she had done this during the day when her assistants were around, but the Appleberry’s requested confidentiality even though the soldiers’ immediate family was allowed to receive medical check ups at the Academy.

“Athene, we need you to do something.” Clair began uneasily, “we need you to do a medical check up on Samuela.”
“Is something wrong with her?”
“No, she’s healthy as any soon to be 8 month old baby should be.”
“Then why does she need a check up?”
“We… need you to alter… some things.”
Dr. Perth and Dr. Ramirez’s back straightened up at Clair’s words. After exchanging leery looks at each other, they faced the Appleberry’s. “You want us… to alter Samuela’s medical records?”
“With the increased prevalence of Guardians across Atlas, the central government has made it mandatory for children to be checked for their spiritual capabilities---…”

“Dr. Edrik---… I mean Dr. Appleberry,” Dr. Ramirez interrupted, “even if we falsify Samuela’s records, if she does have potential to become a Gaurdian, people will eventually notice.” Dr. Perth covered Dr. Ramirez’s mouth from talking any further. When Dr. Ramirez gave Dr. Perth a quizzical look, the doctor responded, “that’s not what they want us to do.”

Clair smiled weakly, “as much as we would rather not have Samuela become a Guardian… that is not our choice to make. Even if the central government allowed Guardians to roam freely, which is very unlikely, it is Samuela who has to decide whether or not she wants to fight. Not I, or Michaela, or even Kimberly have the right to prevent her from doing what she wants to do.” The old woman glanced down at her great-grandchild with warm affection. Wrinkled fingers rubbed themselves against the sleeping baby’s cheeks. Clair pulled away from Samuela and turned back to the doctors, “I do not want you to falsify Samuela’s records concerning the spirits. I want you to alter something else… We’ve used Helston and even the war with Nautilus as an excuse to delay turning in a number of official records… but that can only last so long.” Clair paused. “I want you to do a medical exam on Samuela: an official medical check up as this Academy’s soldier’s family member. When you do… you will find something that is… ‘inconvenient’ to someone.” Clair took her time to give each confused doctor a firm look in the eyes. “That. Is what I want you to alter.”


Although the doctors were not quite sure what they were getting themselves involved in, Dr. Perth and Dr. Ramirez accepted the Appleberry’s request and performed a standard medical exam on Samuela. To avoid the risk of other eyes coming across the “inconvenient something”, Dr. Perth ran the body fluid analysis when no one was in the lab.

Dr. Perth was taking a sip of her tea when the flashing letters on the monitor indicated that the machinery was done analyzing the contents. The doctor quickly checked the results and smiled to herself. The numbers were all within a healthy range. Samuela Jolee Faye was undoubtedly a healthy baby girl. This, however, did not answer Dr. Perth’s question: what was it that she needed to alter? There was nothing “wrong” that needed manipulating.

Dr. Perth scrolled and clicked around the results for a while, then came to a complete stop at a specific section. The doctor stared at the screen, unsure if this was a sign to order a new pair of glasses. She rubbed her eyelids and then looked at the screen again. Nothing changed. The same results remained on the screen. Dr. Perth leaned back into her chair with a sigh. Inconvenient, indeed.
-----After the TV Interview at Oakridge Military Academy-----

The unpleasant encounter with the “woman” his brother had become and the René barbarian put William Edrik in grouchy mood. As a photogenic celebrity, William was able to keep a professional smile plastered on his face in front of the cameras, but once the black limousine he and his son rode in was far down the road from Oakridge Military Academy and reporters, William’s smile turned completely upside down. He reached for a cigarette to calm his nerves, “what were they doing there?”

Nathaniel avoided looking at his father by focusing on the scenery outside the car. “They have a grandson enrolled in Oakridge.”
“He graduated.”
“Yes he did. He should have been assigned a mission by now.”
“Then why were they at Oakridge?”
“I assume it has to do with their grandson.”

William growled in frustration when his lighter did not emit any flames. Nathaniel took the lighter out of his father’s hands and lit his cigarette for him before returning it to him. The older man inhaled thousands of different chemicals into his body and exhaled contently. A few breaths later, William calmed down enough to look at his son. He observed his face and body movement closely when he asked, “what where you doing with them?”

It took everything in Nathaniel’s being to keep his body from tensing up in response to the question. He could feel his father scrutinizing him, trying to find answers from him.

“I sent you to get the files and when I found you, you were still on the way to the office… What were you doing with them for so long?” A pair of icy blues stared deep into the red head’s soul, William’s gaze was like cold claws searching; prodding; invading his body and mind. But as he had always done his entire life, Nathaniel endured it.

“They dropped their things. I only held on to their belonging while they picked up the rest of their stuff on the floor.”
“You only held on to their ‘things’?”
Nathaniel turned to William and repeated, “I only held on to their belonging.” He was not lying. Nathaniel was holding Samuela, who was the Appleberry’s “belonging”. A few beats of silence later, Nathaniel felt the cold claws melt away and he almost sighed in relief.

William smiled at his son. The boy was hiding something, he could tell, but he had no evidence to base his suspicions on, so simply let the subject slide… for now. In a softer voice, he asked, “how are you feeling?” When Nathaniel looked at him in confusion, he elaborated the query, “it’s been three months since that woman died. I was hoping you’d be feeling better by now. I know how much you were attached to her.”

That woman; Nancy. His father was talking about Nancy and he only brought her up for only one reason. Nathaniel braced himself.

“Nathaniel, you are too kind hearted for your own good. As an Edrik, you need to learn not to get so emotional about certain matters, like women. Lovers come and go, but one’s reputation never vanishes. You are an adult. You need to understand and accept the duties of an Edrik.”

Long story short, William wanted Nathaniel to hurry up and marry Lillian Ynyr, his betrothed. It was a marriage of convenience set up for the benefit of the Edrik’s and Ynyr’s; one of the many methods to increase the family’s power. His father had made it apparent that Nathaniel had no choice in the matter. If there was, it was only if Nathaniel found a single woman who was wealthier and/or more influential than the Ynyr family.

“Good,” was all the old man said, before sucking in another puff of smoke into his mouth. “Just in case you still have some ludicrous idea stuck in your head, let me make this clear: it is ridiculous to marry purely on the basis of love. You gain absolutely nothing from it. Maybe a few enjoyable years of their company and an heir, but that’s it. You will eventually get bored and even annoyed by them. They will become useless parasites, contributing nothing to the family. If you do marry someone, they must bring something of value to the table. Even that mechanic you were so obsessed about, Mary---…”
“Nancy.”
“Whatever. The girl understood this more than you did. In that sense, she was much smarter than you. When she discovered she couldn’t sneak her way into a wealthy family, she got married to,” William cringed to even think of the Applerberry’s, “that other family. And she managed to avoid getting deported. I wouldn’t be surprised if she married some other rich fool had she had the time. But desperate times calls for desperate measures and she did get what she wanted.” Nathaniel remained deathly silent as William continued, “you can have as many lovers as you want AFTER you marry Lillian. Once that business is over and done with, the worst is over. You are free to do whatever you like.”

Nathaniel smirked. No he wasn’t. He was never going to be “free”, not in this lifetime or the next. Not as long as he had the surname Edrik.

----- Boss Fight I -----

After watching Aaron and Magdalena run up or jump onto the creature, Kimberly released the xenomorph’s tail. His eyes and ears searched the creature’s body for a weak spot. Although he found none in particular, Kimberly did come to the conclusion that the loss of it two front limbs would severely limit the Boss’s movement on land and shallow waters.

“Damn,” Ghost’s laughter ringed in Kimberly’s ear, “you are one mean bastard with xenomorphs. Why couldn’t you be this vicious with humans?”
Not now, please.

Kimberly was read to run towards one of the amphibious limbs, when he heard Magdalena scream, “its spirit! It’s going to attack!” His halted, then quickly backed away from the Boss. To prepare for what was surely to be a painful attack the Guardian called for the earth spirit’s assistance to increase the defense of his friends. He readied himself by going into a guard stance.

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A Friendly Confrontation *
There was an eerie presence hovering, lingering in the atmosphere in and around the dark haired girl, and surely also those unsuspecting souls she named beloved from time immemorial, yet unknown to their senses. Perhaps this visitant sensation was part of something they were yet unable to grasp or understand and bewildering in every fashion conceivable, a mystery in and by itself, however strangely familiar akin to some long lost past. Olivia was oblivious, clouded by her obsessions in a sphere of obfuscate properties and foundations. Whatever it was, it was strong enough to penetrate and infect its will upon the unsuspecting weak, and strong.

Olivia’s sky-clad irises vacillated in and out of existence as their shell palpebrated, seemingly exhausted by some sudden release from otherworldly, foul possession. Kim’s verbal choice failed to register with the girl’s comprehension of its context. Had she suddenly, briefly vanished from her own grip of reality? She had no recollection of the few past moments which had dominated, assaulted an essential part of the person she was, someone she aspired and strived not to be. Olivia could not explain it… but somehow she felt him. Kim’s stare blazed its way through Olivia’s heart and soul, his sudden hate scorching her already sun-ravished, aureate skin. “I…,” she hesitated, dismissing some clumped strings of hair obscuring her vision of the boy. Every ounce of vitality in her body screamed and forced her to conceal her true state of mind. “… Do whatever you want,” Olivia said and turned around, unable to face Kim another second in fear of bursting into whatever dark, alien emotions that had viciously infiltrated her mind just moments ago.

For the first time in the eternity that measures day and night, Olivia’s spirits displayed the true nature of their own mastery. The triangle of phantoms, the three brothers whom dominated the internal workings of her spiritual sanctuary made their displeasure known to her and the world about. She had never worried to acknowledge their existence or ability to express emotion reminiscent to human passion—a grave mistake. The energetic spirits suddenly emerged from Olivia’s physical presence, grasping and stretching across surfaces nearby, rigid and concrete in their movement and perceivable form. Dazzling sparks covered the dark haired girl’s body, enveloping and expanding and reaching for the atmosphere and the objects therein akin to some bantam, infectious parasite craving a host. Olivia was embarrassed. In contrast to Magdalena, whose mesmerizingly smooth and dark spirits constantly made themselves known, this kind of spectacle was rare in regards to Olivia. As suddenly as the electrifying spirits had appeared, they vanished into Olivia’s sanctuary again with a thunderous sound.

“We’re not bringing him with us… Kim, that’s an order,” Olivia contradicted herself once more.

Moments of Inspiration
Olivia heeded the dark, white one’s words intently. The blonde girl seemed distant in her words and affections, troubled by some darkness not of her own doing or mastery. Magdalena appeared to dwell in shadows as if she asserted the absence of light as the chief cause of things which disturbed her being. It seemed as if the warmth of Olivia’s grace was but a yon kindness of which Magdalena was a stranger, albeit she had experienced it countless of times prior. The pale girl trod a lengthy path away from the aureate skinned brunette, one which almost appeared a choice which from light descended further to the depths of some hostile nature. Not even the muses of ancient texts, infinite and wise, could in her inspire strength to reach by mundane means. Olivia soon realized that she had to guide the blonde in her lofty quest to relive pain and suffering, for no creature of ardency would ever look to absolve the chaos which lingered within.

“Wait…,” Olivia uttered after tracing Magdalena’s steps for some brief moment, counting the girl’s every treading. The dark one approached the white one with hasty, but timid movement. Olivia’s lips attempted to mold the shapes accustomed to certain words in speech, but her mind resisted every ounce of vitality that coursed through her veins and into her lips. She was stunned, paralyzed in her own doubt of what to do. Before Olivia’s impulse ultimately conquered her uncanny lack of confidence, before the thought had even begun to form in the abstract workings of her subconscious, she knew that in order to inspire, she had to suffer herself.

Olivia felt an instant sting of overwhelming, throbbing, burning anguish that rushed through her smooth, voluptuous lips and into the rest of her body akin to some conducting object. She could feel the foundations of her skull and various nerves in her face spasm as she pressed her lips against Magdalena’s pale, yet blazing cheek. The single second that her lips touched the molten girl’s skin felt an eternity, and when she slowly retreated, dual tears of voracious pain rushed down Olivia’s golden cheeks. She had to instantly retract her lips into her mouth to cool them off with saliva; she could only imagine how swollen they would be later on, but she was without regret. Olivia kept her eyes closed and turned away from Magdalena. Nothing more needed to be said.

The Deep One
Olivia had barely recovered from the foul, salamander-like creature’s tail swipe before her valorous friends engaged their adversary in bloody combat. Kimberly grappled the monstrosity’s appendage with fearsome intent and strength akin to some heroic figure of olden tales. Aaron assaulted the assailant with fantastical acrobatics and fury suitable only to the spirits of war and ancient steel-clad warriors of Suji, slashing the creature with his ceremonial stylish razors and gusts of hate. Magdalena invited her presence to smoldering heat, of which Olivia had displeasingly tasted earlier, and forcefully traversed the foundations of heroic men to dissect the repulsive Caudata with her fearsome chakram and infest the wounds with conflagrant anger. The scene was marvelous in numerous shapes and forms.

The dark haired girl leapt into the tumbling pond of water where the battle was raging, unable to put her aggressive spirits to work in the soaked environment as they would most likely electrocute everything and everyone to death. Olivia quickly helped Magdalena to locate her weapon and then pulled her close in anticipation of the Caudata’s foul spirits that were about to invade the cramped intersection. And so it came to pass. The creature spewed forth a vile gathering of festering, dark spirits that rushed forward in a cone before the immense physical structure, rapidly filling the bantam space in a smudged mist of alien odor and taste. Olivia could feel her spirits screaming and trembling inside of her, cowering in fear and unable to make an appearance even if they wanted to.

Olivia began to cough violently, spitting out what seemed to mirror some oily substance that the vile spirits of the Caudata had conjured and formed in unison with her saliva and other bodily fluids. As she did so, still standing in the tumbling waters beside Magdalena, her index finger touched a tiny button on the side of her gunblade which initiated its transformation to gun-mode. Olivia proceeded to aim Cerberus at the foul monstrosity and squeeze the trigger, which unleashed the three shells simultaneously with a loud, echoing bang and burrowed dozens of pellets into the creature’s scaly flesh. The Caudata screeched in pain and jerkily floundered in the shallow waters, propelling its disgusting limbs about. It suddenly gathered some manner of force and momentum, launched itself forward and crashed into Olivia and Magdalena. The two girls were instantly squashed by the stupendous creature, pressed against the ledge that marked the pond-like construction they were in, the tumbling waters reaching their waists as they stood in an upright position.

Tiny insect-like xenomorphs crawled and festered in and amongst the scale of the Caudata, touching and rubbing against the two girls as the creature refused to move away from them. The physical pressure was immense and Olivia did everything she could to provide Magdalena and herself with relief by attempted to push the monstrosity aside, but even with their otherworldly Guardian strength, it proved to be a challenging task. “A little help here!” Olivia shouted.

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Ascalon Isles, 10 months ago

Under the bright blue sky of the tropical Ascalon Isles, Kimberly was sitting at the bar with his friends, watching the World Series on television. The giant spent his time quietly sipping his drink and smile briefly whenever a friend could not contain their excitement when their team of choice was winning, but was stoic for the most part. As fun as it was, Kimberly’s mind was somewhat divided. Every so often, he would turn his head over to the beach to look at the one pregnant person in the group: Nancy.

Nancy was lying comfortably down on a beach chair, protected by a large beach parasol that shielded the harsh rays from the sun. Around the pregnant woman were a cooler box, a toolbox, and small table with a water bottle that was almost empty.

From the bar Kimberly could barely see his wife, only her hand when she reached for the bottle occasionally. When he watched her hand reach for the bottle this time, Kimberly saw it fall off the table and on to the white sand. The man jumped from his chair and excused himself before grabbing a new bottle and rushing down to the beach to his wife.

Nancy shifted her legs to the side of the chair and was ready stand up to retrieve the plastic container when her husband came running to her side. Her turquoise eyes widened with surprise at the sight of Kimberly before she frowned at him. “You again? Didn’t I say go have fun with your friends? I’m fine.” From the tone of her voice, Kimberly could tell that Nancy was not truly upset. Kimberly knelt down to give her the unopened water bottle and picked up the one that fell to the ground. “Just… checking up… on you.” Kimberly looked at the empty water bottle and crushed it in his hands.

“You checked up on me five minutes ago.”

“I did?”

“Yeeees, you did.” Nancy opened the cooler at her feet to show how full the box was with ice and water bottles. “You just refilled this. Remember?”

“Sorry…” Kimberly paused for a while. “Just… worried.”

Nancy smiled, “I promised that I would scream at the top of my lungs if something happened. You can start to worry when I do that. Until then! Spend time with your friends!”

Kimberly was about to protest when Nancy’s face brightened up when she saw something. She waved her hand to someone, “Emily! Emily! Sorry, can you come over here?”

Kimberly turned his head to see Emily walking towards the newlyweds. Nancy turned her smile to Emily, “sorry Emily, would you mind kidnapping Kim here for awhile? He’s been pampering me all day.” She turned to the other side of the bench chair to fish out a camera and gave it to Kimberly. As Kimberly stared down at the single‐lens reflex camera in his giant hands, Nancy continued, “go take some pictures for Nana, Maw maw, and---…” Nancy tried again, “Nana and Maw maw. I’m sure they’d love some pictures.”

Emily gave Nancy a smile in return. She was wearing a loose, flowery top, jean shorts, big sunglasses and sandals.

"Sure," she said, "I'll save you from the horror of his doting."

Nancy giggled, "my savior!" She pushed Kimberly lightly, "now go. Before I shoot you with my water gun."

"Bu---..."

"According to Freddie, my water gun hurts."

Kimberly sighed and turned to Emily, "shall we?"

Emily laughed. "Let's shall."

They walked along the bright, white, shockingly clean beach. It was the color of Emily's hair, Kim thought, but didn't say. He was never sure how touchy she was about that. The waves falling on the shore were mostly foam and clear water; they pulled the sand out to sea and brought it back in again. There wasn't much in the way of animals - not even a jellyfish washed up on shore - so it was oddly quiet. Just their footsteps and the sound of the waves.

"Nana and maw-maw?" Emily said. "Do you call them that too?"

Kimberly nodded. As long as he could remember, he had always been calling his grandparents that. If there was a time when they were called something different, it was long forgotten. He held up the camera and snapped a few shots of the ocean.

"Take one of me?" Emily asked. "Gotta prove to my dad I'm having fun."

The lens of the camera moved towards Emily's direction. Without a warning, Kimberly pressed the button. Click. Emily blinked and stepped back.

"I meant-- let me, like, figure out where to stand, first," she said. "Don't keep that."

A hint of a smirk crossed the giant face, "where... do you want... to take it?"

"Delete that one first!"

"How about..." the giant looked around the area then pointed at a spot near by, "over there?"

"Stop changing the subject!" she said, hopping to grab for the camera, "Gimme it."

Kimberly held the camera high into the air and out of Emily's reach. "Emily." He finally said when the jumping contest lasted for a minute. "It's on film... can't delete film... Unless... you want to... destroy other pictures."

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "Digital cameras are a thing, you know."

The giant lowered his arm and rubbed the camera gently with his thumb. "I know," he whispered. "That's why... every shot counts... well... my mother thought so... at least." Kimberly looked at Emily, "where do you... want to take it?"

She found some reeds growing at the edge of the sand, and gestured to Kim.

"Stand here," she said. "I'll stand back by the waves."

Right as Kimberly got ready to take a picture, his eyes peeled away from the camera to look off in a different direction. He thought he had heard something. Something that was in pain. He was sure Emily couldn't hear it, but he asked the question anyways, "do you... hear... that?"

"What?" Emily said.

"Kitty cat." Kimberly paused, "as in... not... Kat. A... cat... feline."

"Oh... where?"

Silently, Kimberly guided Emily away from the beach towards an area where tall grass and short bushes grew. As they got closer, the sound of a cat's cries became more apparent. It did not take long to find the wounded cat hidden under the shadow of a bush.

Emily stared at it. It was a tiny calico cat, with little white feet. It was bleeding from a wound near its neck. Its mewls were tiny, pitiful.

"Something must have attacked it," she said.

Automatically, Kimberly felt the urge to check how bad the wound was and reached for the creature only to be pawed at. Kimberly pulled back his hand, then looked at it. At first he didn't see anything, but slowly, thin red lines appeared on his skin, "sorry." The giant apologized to the cat, "didn't... mean to scare you."

"It's dying, Kim," Emily said. "There's no way it's gonna make it."

"Yes it can. We just need to give it immediate medical attention. It can make it." Kimberly said clearly and firmly as he stared at the dying cat in front of him. "It can make it..." We can save it... it can live... we just need to help it...

We just need to give it a chance.
Present Day, Norton City

His eyed widened at Olivia's spirits display. What was that? It felt even more odd when the loquacious Ghost, the "person" who was the first to jump at any thought that crossed Kimberly's mind, did not answer his question.

Olivia's next lines of words pulled Kimberly's attention back at the problem at hand, “we’re not bringing him with us… Kim, that’s an order.”

Kimberly held the Storm Guard as close as possible to himself, as if to protect him the enemy ---his friends. The Storm Guard was incapacitated, he would bring no harm to them anymore. Why did they need to kill him? Was it actually necessary? They could spare him... they could save him... they could let him live... he could make it.

"Kim," someone said, from behind him. He turned awkwardly, keeping the soldier in his grasp.

It was Emily; she was covered in perspiration, and clutching her staff. Her eyes were wide, but cold. She indicated the soldier.

"We have to deal with him," she said. "He's seen us."

The brunet's hair would have flown wildly around when Kimberly shook his head rapidly, had it not been tied in a pony tail and trapped in the helmet. No. "So? We can... still take him in... as a prisoner."

"We've got to keep moving; he's going to slow us down, and they've all got trackers - like our phones. It's a liability for him to be alive."

The giant set the soldier down and began to strip the other man's armor off, including his shoes. For extra precaution, Kimberly removed every metal object on the soldier then double checked for any metal objects inside the body with his hearing. Once done, the giant picked the Storm Guard up again. "I can carry him... without slowing... everyone down."

"It's not about that," Emily said. "Norton can't keep him, and they can't treat him. And we need you."

Cautiously, she stepped forward, putting her hand on the giant's shoulder. She could feel it shaking. "It's war, Kim. We can't help him."

Kimberly took a few steps away from Emily, “his wounds... aren't fatal. Norton City... doesn’t have to treat him... I can do it.”

"With our supplies," Emily said. "When he's recovered, what do we do?"

“We don’t use our supplies. I use my spirits.”

"And then what?"

Kimberly fell silent. He glanced down at the soldier in his arms. Kimberly would have let him go, but it was obviously not an option. What else could he do but take him to Norton City’s Outpost? They would imprison him, interrogate him, and maybe even torture him. He may not live long as a POW. It may be a slow and agonizing death… or maybe he will survive. When the war was over, he might be able to go back to who ever he left back home. Or they could end it now, destroying any future he might have had. “We… take him… to the outpost... they might be able to get... something... from him.”

Emily thought about this. She glanced over her shoulder at the body of the other soldier, the one she had killed minutes before, then looked to Kim.

"If we take him to the outpost, he's a liability," she repeated. "And they won't treat him well. Just... leave him here. Okay?"

He stared at Emily. “Leave him here”? Did he hear her right? The helmet hid his ugly smile from the world. He wanted to hug Emily. He had expected that no one would even suggest letting the soldier go. Kimberly nodded his head quickly. “I… I’ll go drop him off... somewhere,” Kimberly said excitedly before running off to a random direction before he allowed anyone else to have a chance to protest.

“Kim,” his roommate’s voice said in his head, “he’s just going to go back to Nautilus… and he’ll be back on the battle field again… this time with information on WARG."

There... is that possibility.

Ghost emerged from the corner of Kimberly's eye and stopped in front of the giant. "No. It will happen. This will come biting you in the ass later. You and your friends will get hurt. You might lose your next battle with Nautilus… and I can’t have Lena dying on me. You are here, because you didn't want anyone to die.” Ghost glared at the soldier Kimberly laid on the ground in one of the destroyed buildings. “He's more of a threat than you think he is Kimberly.”

You know what else is just as likely to kill us and we still live with? Kimberly stood up and walked passed Ghost to return to his friends. Cars. Now come on, let's go.

Ghost furrowed his brow and clenched his fist into a ball. He stared at the unconscious man at his feet. How he wished he was “real”. Then his hand, the hand that wrapped around the soldier's neck, could have stopped the Storm Guard from breathing. Eliminating all the man's possibilities, both good and bad, to ensure Magdalena's safety.

In less than a few minutes, the group saw the giant jogging back towards them. He did not say anything in particular; he just nodded to them and started to walk towards the outpost, the helmet concealing whatever his face was expressing.

Ascalon Isles, 10 months ago

Emily inspected the kitten. She reached out to stroke it, gently, but it barely reacted.

"I don't think it has a chance," she said. "It's... I mean, it's cruel, but it might be less cruel to just..."

"To pretend... we don't have... the power... to save it?"

"Yeah."

"Do... you want... to... pretend?"

"What would be the point?"

Kimberly stared at the cat. Animals, including humans, die. They always have and they, will most likely, always will. It was, as they say, a part of nature. But… if it was pointless to save a life that could be saved… why did humans improve medicine and medical procedures? Simple: they wanted to live; survive. A feeling that many organisms had in common. If those with power had the ability to save a life, then why not?

No one came to his parents' rescue when they wanted to live.

“Is… because... I’d feel better... about it… a bad reason?” Kimberly asked Emily.

Emily sighed, and stood up.

"No, maybe not," she said, but she started walking away as she said it.

---

Norton City Outpost

The aching was Emily's first sensation. She woke slowly, fighting to bring herself back into the world. Sleep pulled back at her, and she must have dozed off and reawoken several times before finally wrenching her eyes open and gazing blearily at the metal corridor.

She'd had the usual dream, of course. Floating in the darkness, alone with her thoughts. For once, though, she'd been grateful. There was no tiredness or pain there, and remarkably little guilt. She reflected back on what had happened that day as if she were watching events that had been done to somebody else, and felt overwhelming relief. She'd killed those men, yes, and they'd all fought for their lives, but from the darkness it didn't feel so bad. Maybe that was just by comparison: Even death was something, but the place in her dreams was, her own presence excepted, nothing.

After a minute of half-awake staring, Emily lifted her left arm, and felt a weight. Magdelena was sleeping next to her, curled up against her side. Emily wasn't sure how to react. She didn't want to wake her friend, but her whole body felt sore, and she wanted desparately to find a more comfortable position. She tried to slowly adjust herself, but as she turned, her right shoulderblade spasmed, and pain blossomed through her mind.

"Fuck!" She said, not very loudly, but loudly enough to wake her friend.

Magdalena had shot up, bristling visually like a startled cat with eyes wide and gaping, as if she hadn’t been aware of having fallen asleep. Her blonde hair was disheveled, flipped and sticking up in random threads from having slept against Emily’s shoulder, there was a distinct tension in the line of her back before her visual snapped back around and her mouth thinned.

“What?” She said, glancing up and over at Emily, appearing wary of her loud exclamation, as if unsure of what was even occurring during their slight down time.

Emily reached back and rubbed her shoulder. It felt like like there were ropes under her skin.

"Sorry, Mags," she said. "I'm just... more achey then I thought."

"Oh," her thinned lips lapsed into a slight frown. "Should I not have...?" She gestured vaguely at her shoulder where her cheek had been cushioned against whilst her face briefly reflected a flicker of concern.

"Nah, it's fine," Emily said. "Not your fault. Any idea what time it is..?"

Her shoulders lifted in a barely there shrug. "Nope." Magdalena quirked her brow, disinterest there as she watched the troops.

"But they've been staring for a long time now." Her head inclined directly to the soldiers murmuring and gesturing, gossiping among their exhausted ranks.

Emily lifted her arm towards the men in a sardonic half-wave, and winced at the pain the gesture caused.

"Should we go find Olivia?" Emily sighed. "Hopefully we don't have to, yet."

"I'm pretty sure she'll come find us," she muttered, vaguely scratching her neck, head tilted to one side.

"But you might want to get that checked out." She said, having noticed her wince.

"It's fine. I'll be fine."

Emily pulled herself up to stand over Magdelena, and looked around.

"Hungry, Mags? 'cause I'm starving."

Magdalena's expression suggested that she didn't believe her, with her eyes narrowed, but she didn't comment further and shrugged once again.

"I guess so," she answered, glancing up at Emily as she did so. "Though I don't know what we can find around here..."

"Rations," Emily said. "Hopefully, coffee." She offered Magdelena her hand.

Her lips tipped up at that. "One could only hope, yeah." Her reluctance at Emily's proffered hand was visible across her eyes, slightly pinched as she carefully took hold with a slight tremor in her arm.

Emily laced her fingers through Mags', and pulled the smaller girl up easily. Her strength was always a little surprising, even though they were both trained, physically-conditioned soldiers. She checked automatically for her batons, and found them still strung across her back. That explained the soreness. Scowling, she rotated her arm, trying to relieve some of the tension.

"It's a military outpost, how could they function otherwise?"

"Well, by the looks of things," She said, and looked at the gawking soldiers scattered about, lips and eyes in a sullen appraise. "And them, I wouldn't be entirely surprised if most of it was gone by now."

"We'll find some."

Emily led Magdelena through the outpost: Past the soldiers, who seemed to avoid their gazes when they got close, and into a warren of passages and back corridors. After a few minutes of wandering, they found a makeshift kitchen. Mercifully, it was empty, and there was a coffeepot. Emily started in on making the coffee.

"So... how do you feel?" She didn't look at Mags when she spoke.

The smaller woman hesitated in her response, which wasn't so much of a surprise. However her eyes, though usually bright, appeared dark, troubled.

"Fine, as usual." She murmured, resuming to watch silently.

"So like shit, then." Emily said.

"Ever since we left the Academy, yeah." She admitted.

"I feel like I'm supposed to be nervous," Emily said. "I mean, we're supposed to be nervous. But I just sort of feel tired."

"Well, it is a war." Magdalena began, crossing her arms. "I don't know what to feel, I can't trust any of this." She waved her hand, as if to encompass the entire situation.

"Is there a right answer?" Emily said. "I think you just feel whatever you feel."

"That's not always a good thing." She bit out.

"Yeah," Emily said. "But it's not like you can help it."

"No," her arms gradually began to tighten around herself. "Nothing is ever that easy."

Emily laughed. "I didn't say it was easy. It sucks. But what else can you do?"

"Give up?" Magdalena quipped, her eyes then looking down.

"Yeah." Emily said.

She didn't say how often she'd thought about that.

With the coffee on the pot, Emiy slid into a folding chair next to the counter. "Have you seen Remi? Or Kim?"

Magdalena visibly tensed up at the latter before answering:

"Kim is healing the troops. Remi," she paused and opted to lean against the counter. "I don't know where he is."

Emily tried to hide her concern. "Yeah, okay." she said. "But everybody's here somewhere."

She cut her eyes through her lashes then. "Why do you ask?"

"Just, you know. Just wondering."

"Something happened." It wasn't a question.

"What?"

"Between you and Remi. During the last fight." Magdalena tapped her nails across the counter. "Take your pick."

"Something happened a long time before that," Emily muttered.

That got her attention. "Something, huh." Magdalena mused quietly to herself, then laughed.

"Do I even want to know?"

Emily grimaced. "I kinda assumed everyone already did. But hoped they didn't."

"Are you ashamed by it?"

"What? No! I don't even know what 'it' is. I just didn't want it to be public, that's all."

She couldn't help but ask, "Why? If you're not ashamed."

Emily blushed a little.

"We just haven't talked about it. I mean, talk isn't really... you know. Not the objective." She said. "I don't know why the hell I'm telling you this. I still feel like it should be kept quiet."

Magdalena shrugged her shoulders.

"Not like I have anyone else to talk to about it, besides you, I guess."

"Olivia, and Thael, and Roy, and the others. Roy. Roy would kill me."

"I - wait. Roy?"

"Yeah. He's always been protective of me, you know that. Since we were little."

"Ah, right." She looked suddenly pensive.

Emily stood, poured two mugs of coffee, and pressed one into Magdelena's hands. It didn't smell particularly good, but it was warm, so she took a sip. It was incredibly bitter, even for black coffee.

"We should go." Emily said. "Find Olivia. We must be moving out soon."

Magdalena accepted her cup, taking small sips despite her lip curling up vaguely with each sample.

"Yeah, I guess we should. Don't want the Captain after our asses."
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Archangel89
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Archangel89 NEZUKO-CHANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!

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BATTLE IN NORTON CITY
PT. 2: BOSS FIGHT


The blow the amphibian like creature had given Aaron had really sent him for a loop, it had taken longer than he had anticipated to stand back up from the monsterous blow. His vision had become blurry from hitting his head so hard on the submerged concrete but he got to witness his friends charging the horrendous monster in full and as he finally got his wits about him Aaron followed suit, both blades poised to unleash another maelstrom of fury. Aaron was too late to see the events that were already in place as the creature unleashed a thick fog of billowing spirits out among the group of friends, Aaron inhaling a massive lung full of the caustic smog.

Aaron quickly dashed away as quickly a he could trying to avoid another strike from the behemoth in his current state of breathlessness. The sensation of this hacking reminded him of the first time smoking cigarettes, only this smoke didn't seem to leave. It started as a whisper at first, almost as if someone was standing from across the room and tried to whisper to him. A sudden feeling of dread fell over him as the whisper grew louder and louder culminating into a hystarical laughter that felt as if someone was screaming in his ear. A cold bony hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it hard sending a sharp pain all the way through his body.

"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron...you just don't get it do you. You will never be able to kill the Xenomorphs, that Nautilus troops...hell you can't even get near me. You are worthless and you will only get your friends killed."

Aaron began visibly shaking, now enveloped in complete fear and sadness, he knew that deep down in the pit of his soul that the phantom was right. He was and will never be strong enough to do anything to save his friends and now they were all going to die in a literal shit-hole in the middle of a dying city that could not defend itself and had to call children to war. The feeling of despair began to subside as an odd sense of anger began to rise within him, why had they felt the need to send children to war while the seasoned soldiers stayed at home.

"It wont matter how angry you get Aaron, you will never be able to save them, you are too weak and there is nothing you will ever do that can save them."

Finally having enough of hearing the annoying phantom shriek at him Aaron turned and faced him eye to eye, feeling his hot and nauseating breath blowing across his face and screamed back at him with furious intent,

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU IMAGINARY SON OF A BITCHHHH!!!!"

It was at that moment that the sound of Olivia's voice found its way into Aaron's ear, even in distress it held melodious properties to him. As he turned and faced the sound's origin Aaron took stock in the world around him, Liv and Maggie were pinned by the creature as the others were still reeling from the effect of the caustic fumes emmitted by the foul beast. Without a second thought Aaron charged underneath the enormous creature and slashed at the forearms that was holding Liv and Maggie against the wall until the creature stumbled away. Once the creature was sufficiently from his friends Aaron unleashed his furious wind up and into the underside of the beasts throat. As the wound began to pour the foul black substance over him an odd feeling washed over him, like something that he had experienced before but he couldn't place. The smell of the blood that now covered him invigorated him, his senses became clearer, endorphin's rushed through his body giving a sense of overwhelming satisfaction. Slowly, as if there was a part of him was trying to fight it, a smile emerged from his lips that stretched into a wide grin of pure pleasure. Anyone who saw would not see the kind and gentle Aaron, but a darker more villainous creature. Something far more terrifying than anything that could be seen or heard in the war above their heads.

With a new sense of blood-lust overloading his senses, Aaron once again charged out from under the creature with a brilliant display of acrobatics until he was positioned above his last cut on the top of the creature. Aaron began to rotate in the air, the gleam of his swords flashing marvelously in the slight sunlight that was exposed through the grates above the group in their opponent, and as he approached the creature and the wind began to gather around his blades and subsequently around the spinning ball of death that Aaron had become a loud and curious sound came from Aaron, something that would haunt him and his friends he was sure till the day they die. Laughter; pure, unadulterated, laughter. The kind of laughter that can only come from pure blood-lust and enjoyment of the kill. As his blades made contact with the creatures neck, that was when Aaron unleashed the full, unbridled fury that was the wind surrounding his blades. The wound was deep but survivable but at that moment, Aaron didn't care. He wanted this battle to last forever in a glorious fight to the death between him and this creature. As he landed on the ground it wasn't long before he was off again charging and slashing at every conceivable place he could find on the creature, a trail from the blood that covered him began to follow him almost to the point that it looked like a single dark line which was being continuously drawn around the creature as he went, the bloodthirsty laughter following it as it went.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by JJ Doe
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JJ Doe

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----- Boss Fight I -----

“Lena!” Ghost screamed in Kimberly’s ears after he had recovered from the Caudata’s Pestilent Breath. The giant felt like he was about to vomit, but he could only assume that the damage was not as bad as the others without helmets. He needed to wipe off whatever disgusting fluid was obstructing his vision, before he could finally see what his roommate was shrieking about. Although, based on Olivia’s request for help, Kimberly didn’t need to see to know they were in trouble.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU IMAGINARY SON OF A BITCHHHH!!!!"

By the time Kimberly could finally see, Aaron was viciously attacking the humongous xenomorph, successfully freeing Olivia and Magdalena in the process. While Aaron took care of the Caudata, Kimberly ran over to the girls.

“Lena!” the man frantically blabbered as his hands reached for the smaller woman and searched her body, “are you okay? Kami, please tell me you're okay.” It was obvious that the man’s mind was full of Magdalena as he did not even face Olivia. But then, as if he was an actor who had messed up his lines and the director had ordered him to do the scene over again, Kimberly did the same thing with a few changes. “Olive! Maggie! Are you alright?” This time the giant acknowledged both of them and quickly examined the girls to see the damage. “Be still.” He took each girl’s hands into his and focused.

A warm light began to emit from Kimberly as the plant spirits gathered to form the colorful floral-plant arrangement around his person. The plant’s vines stretched to ---and plants traveled across Kimberly’s arms over to--- his childhood friends to begin healing. With the giant’s current skills, lack of time, and lack of sunlight, there was only so much he could heal, but it was better than nothing.

Once he could heal as much as he could under the situation, Kimberly double checked his work then backed away. He only said, “okay,” before running off to the Caudata. After that attack, it was evident that the limbs were going to be a problem. He needed to rip them off.

Without a moment to lose, Kimberly spirited towards the Boss’s forearms. Aaron’s blood-lust mode had the giant amphibian distracted long enough for the human giant to reach it’s left arm. Kimberly’s hands latched closely onto the base of the arm while he lifted one foot and placed it against the xenomorph’s body as the other foot trusted the earth spirits to keep it rooted to the ground. As soon as he got into position, Kimberly pulled the xenomorph’s forearm and his foot pushed against the creature’s torso. He wasn’t sure if any of it was working until he could feel the xenomorph starting to show signs of discomfort and made attempts to get Kimberly off of it. It was only when Kimberly’s ears heard the cracking of the bones and tearing of the muscles underneath when the amphibian creature was desperate to get the large human off it. It started to run around ---after Kimberly’s foot on the ground could not stay glued to the ground any longer--- swinging its arms as fast as it could to shake Kimberly away. When that failed to accomplish anything, the Caudata prepared itself for a barrel roll.

Ah sh*t.

Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Rockette
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Rockette 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

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Wait.

But Magdalena doesn’t want to wait. She’s tired of waiting, tired of the idleness that stirs her soul in complacency, of every switching interval of time and second that tolls away the perpetual evil that has painted a crude clock against her heart. It’s a macabre decoration of the soul that gradually begins to descend with every stroke of that elongated hand, the seconds are agonizing and the hours are long, the days are shadowed memories and the years become nothing more than long forgotten stories of used to be’s and once upon a times. There’s an aquamarine tar sluicing through her veins and it’s cutting across marrow and stinging her skin and lighting up the deep punctures of violet. Gone are the bisque edges and jagged browns against a pale complexion and she bids their departure with a saddened simper that drags down the edges of her face when small fingers trace across indigo hued capillaries.

But in her moment of gratitude, in which she cannot help or fathom, Magdalena who is smaller than most and yet demanding in her desires for pain, willed her treads to still. She wouldn't be able to discern that flicker of emotion that flashed across Olivia’s eyes, startling and within haste, much like the eternal spark of lightning she commanded by her heart. Magdalena’s brow contoured in a play of confusion, slightly perplexed but not bothered by the fixation of paralysis that corded her limbs tight as well, committed to her place by the strange whirl of her constant obscurity that snaked across skin and festooned to the shadow Olivia cast. It’s like being bound in a singular spirit continent: a mass of black that isn’t writhing but stilled and patient in whatever this is. Blue eyes spark, as if bidding fire to her mouth with the vermilion colour curling like a snake around twin irises, her skin summons a small lick of flame and soft, supple lips curl against her cheek.

Her face burns in a tumble of emotions she can’t begin to label or give acknowledgment too, there’s too little time to properly categorize each and every single one that is given homage to her heart and eyes; though temporary, they leave their mark. Magdalena’s nerves flair as if summoning a warning; a pulsating heat that thrums across her veins and chases away the rest of the potion through her system in a sudden rush that leaves her skin tingling. The sudden exhilaration brings affront a memory that was somewhere lost within her, bidden by the influx of sensibility in flesh contact.

a mother's love»
Gabriele Abendroth had never wanted daughters, she had only ever wished for sons. Women in her family were seldom blessed with luck and fortunate, as if eternally affixed with curses and hardship, inflicted by love and never proffered such sensation. Gabriele had wept the day her twins had been borne, holding each to her bosom so they could hear the fracturing of her heart within her breast, her tears mistaken in that hospital for souls. It was the first time she ever held her daughter and it would be the only time in many years to come from that unfortunate birth.

Magdalena had been a quiet child, standing often next to her carbon copy twin who had the fascination of plucking her babe curls from her scalp. Gabriele often blamed herself because of that, doting upon her sons and granting them soft kisses and honeyed words. Maggie had to seek affections form her father, who in his committed job and career had barely the notion to pat her head and allow her to play in the streets. They trusted the little brown haired boy.

But it was on the day when she held her mother’s hand and made it bleed over and over again with her nails, when her brothers and father left in a march to their graves, that Gabriele had bent down to scoop up her child and kiss her saltine cheeks for the first and last time.

out post»
What seems like minutes is barely configured in actual seconds, leaving Magdalena barely anytime to want to jerk away from the taller girl’s sudden affection, it isn’t black hair she sees, but blonde, curled and long like her mother’s. It makes her chest hurt. She doesn’t know why she’s crying, perhaps in pain from the reddened saturation of her lips, or in an emotion she doesn’t know personally, but her shadow seems to swell with it. The petite figure is left to watch her friend turn and leave, the image of her mother banished, unable to beseech to her why, but would she really want to know?

Her blue eyes merely watch as she goes before she seeks out her moment of rest, cheek still blazing and impression-ed with her kiss.

boss battle I»
There’s a pain in her chest that cinches tight and burns, as if racking her lungs into fractures that fight to puncture her lungs and heart; the pressure is immense from where the Caudata’s attack had slammed into her; sending ripples of continuous malady that made her vision blurred. She wheezes, fingers grappling through waves of muck and sludge, her nails scraping against sodden stone that slicks and stains her fingers black. She barely registers Olivia coming to her aide again, her weapon being thrust into her trembling fingers and her frame pulled from the pestilent waters teeming with the tiny, skeletal insectoids coming to their figures.

Pain numbs her entirely to acknowledging anything aside from the bruising agony in her torso, her lashes fluttering in attempt to gain purchase of her mind before a smog clogs her throat and lungs, making them inflate against her cracked ribs and her teeth to grit against each other in a grimace. Magdalena coughs against the substance blackening her teeth and tongue, combined with her blood and dripping from the corners of her lips as she heaves against the tar trying to grasp purchase against her insides. She has barely any time to hoist her chakram up front in the sudden flash of scales and dark waters, using it as a sort of brace before the Caudata utilizes its massive size against them, the force of the impact cutting her cinched fingers upon her circlet.

She jerked and fought against the writhing touches of tiny claws and sluicing tendrils across her arms and rubbing across her throat, her sudden movements chaffing her back against the ledge, her uniform providing only a small amount of comfort against the hard, unforgiving stone at their backs. In the confined space her breath labours and panics, bidding her eyes to clench shut against the panic rising in a vicious, bloody cry against her lips.

a light in the door»
They’re in the dark again and it’s his body this time that presses against her, a constant weight against her fragile bones. There’s a void beneath her and one in her heart where every touch and bite descends to wilt away with her internal extremities - faulted and dying by poison filled kisses and teeth like serpent fangs piercings her lips and tongue. When she fights him, he just hits harder, and when she denies him, he just gets angrier. But while on the surface she is dead and lax and willing, inside there’s a demon waiting to be unleashed and it breaths in her hate and anguish and feeds off of it - saves it for later.

The light from the door, peeking between the cracks, is a mocking glimmer of salvation and waiting escape, in which trembling fingers reach for and brush cracked nails across the purposeful fissures. The door never opens, it won’t, no matter how many times she wishes and wills it with her drowned eyes and begs with her cracked lips.

It’s always closed.

boss battle I»
A scream tore through her panic, wrenching eyes open and her sliced fingers to grip tighter on the chakram now blotted with her weeping crimson and the black taint of the fiend. A righteous bellow tore through her ears, made teeth sliver and slice into the pout of her lip as the pressure finally was alleviated from her battered chest. Magdalena drew in sharp, ragged breaths that rattled against her bones and throat. She fought for a breath that didn’t surrender her body to pain, but each inhale was a fixed increment of torture that made her chest cavity struggle against the momentum of her gasping sounds. She used her weapon to hold herself up, prone over the gleaming blades as she cast blue eyes up to the manic simper of their savior.

Pure rage and lust boiled there within eyes she had never glanced into, but memories served kind hands and a plea to remain and this was not the same man. There was a kinful blood lust and desire that Magdalena knew all too well, the relinquish of your soul in the yawning jowls of something horrid, foul, and ever the dark pleasure of sadistic means. The masochist in her thrummed alive, bidden by the display Aaron put forth in a psychotic splendor, it was terrifying, it was ugly, but it was something to witness when the ebonette blood continued to spill in constant, thick torrents over the scene. It was pitiful to watch as the Caudata struggled against the vicious attack, scales still boiling and now sliced open by the ceremonial twists and lashes of dual blades now thick and heavy with taint. She willed her blue eyes else where, unable to observe the malicious spectacle no matter how much she knew it personally, the haze of red was unrelenting in truth.

She was coughing repeatedly, her fingers stained black and red and nerves singing in their pain from minuscule slivers in her skin, when Kimberly approached. His frantic blubbering was uncharacteristic of him in every way as he searched her body for wounds and lesions. Magdalena reached out for him then, light fingers grazing against his armour - Lena. It was a moniker she was unaccustomed to, however, she had heard it before she knew. Somewhere in the past of flashing fists and exchanged blows.

oak ridge»
“Lena!” Her mind reeled, eyes blinking rapidly against the harsh lights then before a visage swam across her vision.

“Ow.”

Warm hands probed across her brow, indicating to the harsh throbbing ringing her temple and cheek bone.

“You were supposed to dodge that,” he muttered, trying to catch attention of her blue eyes that averted his stare constantly, never permitting him to stare into them. Her mind was still trying to process certain events, and Kimberly never spoke this much, which made the entire situation surreal. Warm hands brushed across her sweat deluged hair, mindful of her reddening brow that began to swell. There was a gentleness to them, callouses on each gesture that slid down her cheek and swept across the line of her jaw, she winced.

“That hurts too.”
“You’re distracted today.”

It was an accusatory speech, one she would never think of him to say, but there was something within his stare that wasn’t his. As if another stood there and was glancing at her repeatedly, searching, looking for something she couldn’t fathom. Blue eyes finally slid over his face and the intensity of his glare made her flinch.

“You can tell me, Lena.”

a void; a spell»
Magdalena could only nod her head, unable to speak past her newly acquired wounds in this bought. It seemed as if Kimberly had finally returned to normal, the same stoic individual that constantly sought after the safety of his friends. She fought every urge and impulse to retract and jerk her hand back to her side, but the sudden warmth spreading and spindling across her skin made her still immediately. She felt a tickling sensation across her arms as spiritual energies suddenly came to, her former pains gradually beginning to bar away from her skin and body, ribs began to mend slowly and her internal woes became bearable but not completely renewed. Somewhat revitalized, Magdalena breathed in deep, despite the air still stewing with infecting spirits, but it was without a cracking anguish in her chest and she was grateful for it.

But as soon as the warmth came, it was gone, sectioned off suddenly when Kimberly bid them both well enough and turned to face the Caudata with obvious intent. Magdalena flexed her fingers, only some still bleeding now though most of the cuts had been smoothed over with pale skin and barely noticeable scars. She turned to Olivia, searching her Captain for any serious blemishes before she gaped her lips and coughed around her voice finding way to her throat.

“What should we do?” She inquired, her stare distracted by Kimberly beginning to grapple with the foe, his strength almost succeeding in completely rending the beast’s arm from its bulbous body. But desperate times bid the creature to nearly descend into a barrel roll to dislodge the giant attacker completely, it made something in her chest cinch tight, almost suffocating as she struggled to summon her spirits, their wavering shadows and darkness absent from her frame unlike they usually were. But there was nothing but a screeching void, a hollow drone of nothingness instead of heat and dark obscurities. Panic assuaged her insides, made her fingers tremble suddenly as she called to them again and again, she had seen Aaron and Kim bring forth their own, so why were hers no longer forth coming?

Magdalena’s breath quickened, her chest rising and falling into rapid inhales and exchanged exhales. She felt empty, hollow, alone, even her own shadow was no longer present as if terrified and fearful despite their own origins and powers. There was nothing, nothing at all.

She was suddenly, utterly, nothing.
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