As his three ribs cracked and buckled under the tighter grip of the injured flying spaghetti monster, the sound and sheer pain of the event caused Aaron to wince and grit his teeth tightly to avoid screaming out. His attempt to eat his way out of the tendril holding him bound did not seem to go well...it went the opposite, it seemed. Now he had even less ability to move than before, his freed left arm not even being able to reach back to where Zoe had been weakening the thing with her powers. Huffing to himself, Aaron attempted to struggle against the grip of the tendril that held him bound.

'Note to self, don't bite the damn spaghetti next time,' the brown-haired boy thought to himself as he struggled against the terrible, tasty, tantalizing tendril of spaghetti that had wrapped him up like some kind of rope or monstrous tentacle, 'Also, if we survive all of this i am eating a plate of spaghetti from the stupid cafeteria to spite this piece of-'

The boy's very brief thoughts were interrupted as Zoe ran over, grabbing onto the noodle once more and snarling at him about letting the spaghetti get him. The currently struggling Aaron looked up at her, undaunted as he shot his own glare back at the angry Abberation. The bloodlust she put off and the look of murder was not lost on him, but at the same time it concerned him far less at the moment than the leech-like mouth of the monster that seemed to be beginning to reel him in like a fish on a hook.

"Take it out on this thing, not me!" Aaron called out to Zoe, rolling his eyes at the situation he and his team were in, his frustration coming out a little bit at Zoe for a moment as he struggled to free himself from the grasp of the enemy on top of her help, "But if ya let it have me, at least put a damn joke about it on my tombstone!"

A crappy joke at a crappy time, but it was at least some attempt to keep his head together as things moved forwards.

Looked like his attempts to make light of the situation had little to no affect on Sophia at all. Indeed, his own awkward laughter was made even more awkward now by the completely dead expression that was on the young girl’s face. The lack of food after that rather spirited run had seemed to cut off her interest in further exercise as well, and while the brisk pace she set was still faster than normal walking…Brent didn’t find it too hard to keep up.

Probably because her legs were shorter than his and all.

Building A, standing at five stories tall and having the same appearance as an expensive hotel, made Brent take a step back at first. USARILN East, for all of its death and destruction and shit, really was quite the luxurious cage. It practically oozed with wealth, no doubt to placate all the Arbiters and Aberrations that were going to be less than pleased if they were forced to live in actual prison cells.

Stepping in, his amethyst eyes flickered around once more, snatching up all the details it could. A slight shake. From the battlefield in the distance, perhaps? Two Arbiters in a conversation. Goth girl and emo dude. Match made in heaven. Blondie? Less of a match. In the corner, a potted mini-tree, whatever those were called. Marble everywhere. Veined and white. Polished. Glass everywhere. Bulletproof, probably. No cameras, at least the visible kind.

To decrease the Big Brother sensation this whole place had, eh?

“Third floor,” Brent replied, one ear on the conversation unfolding, “330. Probably don’t need to come to my room after you’ve showered and dressed up though, Sophs. I’ll meet you down in the lobby in…half an hour or so?”

An absentminded reply, really, as his brain churned out the conversation that was growing louder in intensity. Shane and Decker. Arbiter that got cut in half and the healer that got killed to save him. What a…coincidence. Brent turned to the stairs for a moment, before deciding that learning was, for the time being, more important than exercise.

“Yeah, just gonna slip in,” Brent called out, striding towards the elevator. “Hospital food’s legendary in shittiness, but apparently the dudes in Building D have no pity for the starved, injured, and IDless.”

"You're new?" the messy-haired student sniffed at his own hoodie, the comment automatic small-talk.

"Yup. The two of us got shot on our first day. Landed in the hospital, got out, and all that stuff."

Bedhead responded with a quick nod, holding the elevator door open, as if the mention of getting shot was about as normal as the weather. At USARILN East, it probably was.

Slipping in, Brent pressed the button for the third floor, before saying, "Name's Brent Roless. You?"

It'd be pretty awkward to refer to him as emo kid all the time, after all. Especially when all the Xs were some type of emo.

"Alex," he replied, not returning the gesture of a full name. "She getting in, too?" He looked at the brown-haired girl who had come in with Brent.

Brent turned his gaze to the silent, overthinking, opaque Sophia and wished once more that he could read minds. Or at least had a portable lie detector that he could Overclock into a mind reading device. "Uh...not sure..."

With a sigh, Alex drummed his fingers on the elevator door's frame, waiting for either of the two to make up their minds. He hadn't forgotten the sensation of being new to this place, and he sympathized to some extent, but he just wanted to lie down. This was what he got for trying to be polite.

Ultimately, after much deliberation, Sophia simply shook her head. "The stairs, eh?" Brent said, "Guess I'll see you down here in a bit then. Later."

As he leaned against the back of the elevator, the amethyst-eyed youth turned back to Alex. "By the by, I did some eavesdropping. Shane's tanned, right? What's up with that...'spider-snake hybrid with razors for feet'? Those monsters the norm in the East?"

Was it the norm for even the strongest Arbiters to meet their end against run-of-the-mill monsters?

"You saw Shane?" Alex looked at Brent properly now.

"I think I did? Didn't get his name, but the story sounded about right. Healer dying to save him and all."

Alex's lips thinned in response to the light comment and he stepped back to let the elevator doors close. He was heading to the fourth floor, going by the number glowing on the control panel. His silence seemed fairly permanent now as he leaned against the elevator wall.

A bust, huh? The ride would last ten, twenty seconds tops. Probably less, really. Not enough time to be subtle at all now. His question remained unanswered, and Alex was now clamping down. Should he press for an answer once more? Brent flicked back to the conversation, recalling what he could. Highlights wanted Decker. Blondie was fine with Shane. And Alex didn't want to really think of any of all that. Didn't want his...friends? acquaintances? to have their value derived from how close they were to the Precursors, most likely.

So he was a nice guy. And Brent liked him for that. But he liked learning things more.

"So yeah, never really saw monsters up close till now. Is it normal for them to be so...for all of us to be so vulnerable to them? No one here strong enough to be 'safe'?"

Alex regarded him quietly for a moment before sighing again.

"There's the main team. They're pretty safe as long as Genevieve's up."

He deliberately avoided the first question. It was too easy to fall into pessimism there and Alex wasn't interested in that right before bed.

Genevieve and a 'main team'...Decker was the best healer, so she couldn't keep them alive like that. Defenses then? Or was she their artillery, while the rest protected her? Like a tank or something? "Mm...that's good to hear then," Brent nodded. "You in a team too? Or what?"

He wasn't visibly injured, after all, but also wasn't called out to fight and all that. The reserve corps then? Maybe Brent will pay Shane a visit some time in the future. Bring real food, ask questions. For now though, he'll have to settle for this.

"No," Alex turned away as he said it. "Not all of us are useful."

The elevator dinged, reaching the third floor. Stepping out with a hop, Brent twirled around, that meaningless smile on his face. "Suppose I'll be suicidal, trying to be useful then. Later bud."

Alex gave him a curt wave as the elevator doors closed.

It didn’t take too long for him to find his room, which was far off to the right wing of the complex. Pushing open the door to a room that was both overwhelming and underwhelming, Brent looked about for a couple of moments. Two others seemed to be rooming there at the moment, and his own lack of luggage was met with an indifferent shrug.

Parents probably just wanted to keep all his belongings so they could remember him, after all.

All that was left was the clothes that he wore when he came to USARILN and an envelope containing his ID. Dreadfully empty, compared to the duffel bags of the others. There were also assignments on the table. Assessment tests? Hilarious. He should have learned to write with both hands before he needed such a skill.

Taking a look at his casted shoulder, the youth considered his options for a couple of seconds.

“Meh, clothes probably absorbed all the sweat.”

He’ll just change. No need to shower.

Not like his 'date' will notice, right?

Allison wasn't going to get a break, was she? Aaron was being crushed by pasta, and similar noodles were surrounding Allison and the unconscious girl. Things had been going to shit since they exited the truck, and the situation was only getting shittier.

Allison found herself in the same mindset she had been in for the past few minutes. She needed to do something. She needed to stop this spaghetti from killing them all. What was Allison of all people going to do? She couldn't do anything here. Chris would probably be transforming soon, so Allison just needed to stall till then. How was she supposed to do that?

Allison stopped her panicking. Her first goal was to get Alexis and herself away from these tentacles. As much as she hated leaving Aaron hanging in the spaghetti's noodly grasp, Zoe was at least somewhat capable of helping him. Allison and Alexis were both no use if they were dead.

Allison quickly glanced over at the trucks. They weren't too far away. If she picked up Alexis, she could probably get there before the pasta, deposit the unconscious girl, and find a way to fight back. Allison didn't want to dwell on the idea for two long. Do or die.

Allison shoved her arms under Alexis' body, picking up the girl as quickly as she could, and moving to her feet. Alexis wasn't too heavy, but Allison was still lifting a whole person. She started moving as soon as she got her balance, and then instantly lost it.

Allison tumbled to the ground as Alexis slipped from her grasp, being lifted away by a lone noodle, with another close by that seemed to be reaching out towards Allison. Allison knew that there was no way she could fight the girl from the creature's grasp, not without a real weapon. Allison looked back at the trucks as she scrambled to her feet. Allison glanced at Alexis' limp form being lifted away by the delicious monstrosity. Allison didn't want to leave the girl like that, but her only shot at saving her would involve running away as fast as possible.

Allison bolted for the trucks, running as quickly as her legs would carry her. There was no time. When Allison reached the closest of the vehicles, she momentarily examined the siding of the thing, placing her hand against the cool metal. This would have to do. Allison drew her hand away from the metal and manifested the shard.

The thing that appeared in her hand emanated with a dull purple glow, at least, it seemed to glow. The shard didn't actually give off any light, yet it looked as if it was glowing. To Allison, it took the form of a shard of broken glass. It had looked like that the last time too. The only anomaly so far was the first time...

Allison drove the shard into the side of the truck, almost reeling at how effortless it was. She still wasn't used to the sensation of cutting through something so easily, especially metal. Allison focused herself on her task, silently running the blade through the metal, cutting the necessary shape as quickly as she could.

Eventually, the piece of metal fell out of the side of the truck, shaped into a decently-sized cleaver-like blade. Allison took a second to cut a crude edge into the blade with the shard. It probably wouldn't cut amazingly, but it would probably get through pasta, at least better than the shard would.

Allison turned towards the things that were attempting to devour her allies. Allison lifted the rather heavy makeshift blade in one hand as the shard disappeared. Allison was going to fight. Allison wasn't going to allow any more death around, save for the death of flying spaghetti monsters. She ran for the noodle which was carrying away the still unconscious Alexis, ready to cut down anything that got in her way.

Gregory Irving

---

It was no alarm, but the steady beep of plugged in monitors had its own way of rousing Gregory. Opening his eyes was painful enough, artificial light stinging, and his mouth felt like a desert. ‘How long’s it been?’ he wondered as he locked around as best he could without moving too much.

The other beds were filled with unmoving patients, and he shivered a bit as he noticed the black X’s that marked each of their necks. Sure… they could all just be peacefully asleep, but they were Aberrations, so it must have been some sort of miracle he was witnessing. A deep breath only caused his dry throat to itch, and he grimaced a bit after a rasped cough.

Evidently the sound was enough to attract a bit of attention, and he shifted his head to look at the source. A nurse, hands clenched to the table’s edge hard enough that her fingers had begun to turn white. His attempt to sit up didn’t seem to help matters much, nor did his scowl once he realized she certainly wasn’t going to help him.

With both hands, he managed to prop himself up despite the pain that flared with each movement. As the blanket finally rolled off him, Gregory could finally see just what had put him into the hospital. Wrappings circled around his waist numerous times, creating a tight pressure that held layers of gauze against the wound on the left side of his waist.

Grogginess and pain made for a difficult time to calm down, and it didn’t help that his mind wasn’t all too calm either. Annoyance and anger surged as he remembered the idiots, both of them, responsible for putting him and who knew how many others in here. The former began to win out as, despite how hard he tried, there wasn’t much to his memory about exactly who was responsible for triggering the trigger-itchy idiot. He should have, but details seemed to slip from him and he looked towards the IV drips stuck into his arm with a weak glare.

Considering how the other Aberrations were completely out of it and glassy-eyed though, Gregory figured he could live with the dazed sensation. “What’s up with’em?” he finally asked the nurse, interrupting her work yet again. Despite the coughs that followed his question, it wasn’t all too surprising that she only twitched a bit, but otherwise completely ignored him. A few ginger pokes convinced him that the wound wasn’t bad enough, and even the hiss that leaked when he swung his legs over the bedside didn’t dissuade Gregory. A hand grabbed the IV drip stand for support before he hauled his ass off the bed and made his way towards the room’s exit.

Surprisingly he wasn’t stopped nor were their soldiers flanking either side of the doors as they slid open. Movement and activity brought a bit more clarity and focus, enough that Gregory could notice the reactions his presence garnered. “The hell?” he muttered as he looked between the various staff members in sight, and seeing none that seemed particularly enthused that a “patient” was up and about again. Figuring none of them were going to give him a straight answer and he might as well just save himself the annoyance of not getting any answers, Gregory trudged down the hall at random. The stand’s wheels squeaked as it rolled alongside him, grating to the ears, and it was another thing to be relieved about as he finally happened upon a drinking fountain.

With that problem taken care off, Gregory wasn’t actually entirely sure of what to do next. They’d clamped the cuffs to him, so he couldn’t exactly wander around as he pleased. He still had a damn bullet hole in his gut, so anything too strenuous was right out… Fuck going back to lay down in that bed though…

With that much decided at the least, he figured he might as well get to know the hospital’s layout. Might still get shocked to death for wandering into some restricted area, but hopefully someone with some idea of what was happening would come find him soon enough. Assuming they cared enough… which was probably a fairly dumb assumption to have considering all that’d happened, and wasn’t that depressing. Shaking his head a few times, Gregory started to trudge along once more and the squeak of ungreased wheels accompanied him to the general annoyance of, well, everyone. Probably.

---

---

---

---

Lawrence didn't have time to feel any sense of satisfaction as his slug shattered the orb in the witch's hand, the world went to shit far too fast. Firstly, and least important: The released glitter shredding him with superficial wounds. Blood and pain danced across his flesh in equal measure, but did not inflict nearly the level of damage on him as it did the witch. Secondly, a spike of panic filled him as the monster retaliated with a magical spear that thankfully didn't skewer him. Thirdly, that black spear did apparently shut off his magic, or stripped it from him completely, an idea that he would have to explore in more detail later. Either way, the effect it had on him was immediately clear as the familiar glow surrounding him shut itself off at the moment of impact. Fourthly, a scream from behind him confirmed that throwing his power onto their healer had been a wise move on his part, and now the boy was probably going to get himself killed without it. Fifthly, the monsters advancing upon him, now stripped of his meager powers with and carrying an unloaded firearm, demanded his attention instead of stopping said panicking healer. Sixthly, due to said now-unloaded shotgun, his ears were ringing again, adding yet another layer of irritation to this rapidly deteriorating battle.

Lawrence was, quite frankly, sick of this shit.

If the situation slipped out of your control, you simply had to go with the flow. Right now, he needed to stop himself from being killed, all other goals were secondary. Judging by how easily the Eyepion had flung his teammate away just a moment ago getting kicked by it would hurt. Being on the receiving end of that was not exactly high on Lawrence's to-do list. His shotgun had done little to penetrate it, and it had also survived a blow from his presumably supernatural-strength teammate. Still, it was an eyeball...

With little to lose and no time for alternatives, Lawrence scooped up his temporarily forgotten beverage from the ground and unscrewed the lid with a sharp twist. Steam and the smell of coffee greeted his efforts, the thermos having done it's job admirably to keep the beverage hot. Seventhly, and mostly sadly, Lawrence would not have a chance to finish his final coffee of the day. Now he would have to survive this battle, lest he let his last chance to taste the drink go to waste.

Fully annoyed by this point, and glad for his power's current malfunction, he threw his coffee into the Eyepion with a snarl, just as a great flash was erupting across the battlefield. Wondering just how bad the situation had to be for Ethan to drop a nuke, he discarded thermos immediately after and snatched his box of shells off the ground in one movement. Intent on getting the Hell away before it had the chance to retaliate fully. The witch was of course still an issue. And the dog things. And the dolls. And probably the Eyepion if his great sacrifice turned out to be a wasted effort, but he had to focus on one threat at a time.

As he began running, adrenaline beginning to pump through him, Lawrence broke the action on his shotgun once more and the spent shell ejected over his shoulder, quickly being replaced by a fresh one. With each pump of his heart he could feel the cuts covering him throb, and soak a little bit more blood into his white shirt. A shirt he would now have to replace.

Battles were a pain in the ass.

Everything had gone to hell. Aaron- their unofficial 'leader'- had been grabbed by the noodles, so much that he most likely couldn't move. Worst of all, one of the meatballs had effectively sprouted eyes, ears, and arms, and was staring at them while chewing on something- namely the guards that it had just taken a bite out of.

Savannah was frozen. Frozen in pure, real fear. A meatball with claws that had just ripped apart two people with no effort at all was staring at her- why shouldn't she be scared? She knew she should move, knew she should do something, but she couldn't.

"And you there, Blondie, don't just fucking stand around doing nothing! Help them too for fuck's sake!" said Angelique, who was to her right. This comment snapped Savannah back into reality, and instead of glaring at the girl, she gave her the middle finger, and ran off towards the noodles holding Aaron in its clutches.

Once the girl reached the noodle, she grabbed ahold of it with both hands, and pushed her energy into it. Soon enough, a large sigil appeared on it. Relieved that something actually happened, but quite disturbed all the same, Savannah let out a breath.

"Here to help!" she yelled at Aaron and the redhead.

---

---

A stronger rumble shook the general area of the building, noticeable this time, though still not enough to wake anyone. The Arbiters in the lobby stood up at the sensation, looking around quickly. Blondie headed to the elevator, only to find it locked down. Something was happening on campus, and it was nearby. Both of the main dorm buildings buzzed with sudden activity as students who were still awake started gathering in the buildings' respective lobbies. In Building A, several Arbiters left their rooms and took the stairs down, looking expectantly at Blondie.

She waved at them before closing her eyes, pulling on her power.

Before long, she turned to check on Highlights, who was warily watching the entrances, expecting danger from every corner. The gothpunk's hand was emitting a light green fire as she tensed.

"Relax," Blondie tapped her forehead, where a series of shining, vertical eye tattoos had now appeared like a headband, "I'm only seeing chinchilla fur. Conditioned hair. Soft things. We're fine."

"...Okay," Highlights sat back down, letting Blondie throw a quick "ok" hand sign at the nearby Arbiters who had come downstairs to check on things. They nodded and headed back up, whispering to each other.

Highlights continued looking around the room, however, the tension never leaving her shoulders.

---

---

---

"Ooooh, you're up!" a woman greeted Gregory from behind, lines of white light spreading outward from her eyes, the markings intersecting each other in sharp angles and convergences. Her clothes were the standard blazer and slacks that denoted USARILN East staff, but the white mark on her right temple and the cuff on her left ankle made it clear where she stood in the hierarchy. Somewhat. A brown ponytail hung over one of her shoulders, its tip resting against an unevenly ironed lapel on her suit. She scrunched her freckled face up in a smug grin, hazel eyes squinting victoriously. "I told Freddy and Grumpy you'd be up soon, but they didn't believe me."

She was carrying several boxes of food, looking far too pleased with herself.

"Everyone else is off dealing with the emergency, so I thought I'd bring the injured new folks some food from the dining hall. The other two were already gone when I got here, though, so that means you get their share, too!"

Without waiting for Gregory's answer, she steered him towards the nearest staff lounge, barging in carelessly and shuffling past surprised nurses to sit down at one of the tables. After their initial reactions, the rest of the staff resumed their own business, apparently used to this sort of behavior from this particular subnatural. They glanced warily at Gregory, but didn't protest when the bubbly subnatural woman beckoned him over.

Her free rein in behavior spoke volumes for whatever influence she wielded behind the cheery exterior.

---

Sophia Lemane

She listened as Brent answered, storing away his suite number in her memory in case she ever needed it, though she probably never would. Nodding as he mentioned meeting in about half an hour, she already began to sort out what she would do once reaching her suite and how long each thing would take. As she began to do so, she realized that his answer had been somewhat absentminded. Turning her thoughts away from her planning and instead listening to the conversation around her, she caught part of the discussion as it went on. But it didn't make a whole lot of sense to her, all she got from it was that students were arguing about sacrifices, the worthiness of certain people who had fought, and death. And risks.

As Brent moved, she automatically followed, still trying to put together what the students had been talking about. At last, she decided it wasn't that important. If it was, it would surely come up again. Realizing then that Brent and some other boy were getting into the elevator, she considered the other boy's question. Take the stairs or the elevator? Taking the elevator would be shorter, but taking the stairs would allow her a little time alone. Seconds ticked by before she finally decided on her answer, shaking her head no. The elevator doors began to close, and as they closed completely, she headed towards the stairs.

Once on the second floor, she was able to find her suite pretty quickly, stopping in front of it to verify the number. 226. Placing a hand on the handle, she felt a tingle of excitement as she slowly pushed it open. She was always eager to explore new hotel rooms, apartment rooms, houses, and though the circumstances were different here, her excitement still held. The first thing she saw upon opening the room was... darkness. Groping along the wall until she reached a light switch, she flicked it and blinked a few times as bright light flooded the room. Her eyes flicked from the strangely mist like walls, to the kitchen counters, and to the sitting area where a couch was. Letting the door fall closed behind her, she headed to the kitchen. What she really wanted to do was open those cabinets and see if there was anything inside them, but she stopped herself. Turning to the sitting area, she plopped down on the couch, relaxed back, then stood up immediately afterwards.

Seeing the doorway leading to another room, she found the bedroom and desks. Three beds, three desks. All of them neat and with no belongings around them whatsoever save for her bag of stuff at the foot of one of the beds and for a pile of paper on the desk nearest to it. Did that mean she had no room mates? Or that her room mates were yet to arrive? Walking over to the desk, she flipped through the papers there. Exam papers? With a sinking feeling, she flipped through the subjects. The exam wasn't exactly short, and she had no idea how she was going to answer them if she had to use her left hand. Another pile of papers with maps and more information sat beside the exam papers, something that she would look through later. The best thing on the desk was the ID card. Leaving it there so as not to give herself a chance to misplace it, she at last opened the bag by her bed and began to look through it.

Still in there were all the things she had packed upon leaving her home, albeit not much. Taking out the change of clothes and pouch containing her toiletries and other necessities, she stood up only to freeze as a rumble made the floor shiver under her feet. Her first thought was earthquake, her second thought was that it could be caused by whatever monsters that were being fought. Then her third thought was that she really had no idea what was going on. Trying to ignore the feeling of foreboding that had come with the rumble, she headed across the room where a door stood open, assuming it to be the bathroom. Halfway across the room, however, she stopped as something blue under one of the desks caught her eye.

Switching direction and going over to the desk, she bent down to pick it up. It seemed to be a request sheet, like the one that she had seen on her desk. Well, I guess someone used to live here. They probably moved out or something, unless... The feeling of the rumble and the sound of the alarm still fresh in her mind, her mind revealed to her another not so satisfactory idea. Unless... they died? Nope. I don't think so. Can't be. Placing the paper on the desk instead of leaving it on the floor, she entered the bathroom. She considered showering, but to be honest with herself she didn't even know how to shower with a sling.

After a minute of going through different options, she carefully removed her sling to reveal the bandages on her lower right arm. Trying to let it dangle there without moving any of the muscles that connected to her arm, she slowly eased off her hospital garments. Grabbing a hand towel and wetting it, she wiped herself down to substitute for a shower before pulling on a pair of worn blue jeans. Putting on her shirt was more difficult, and as she eased her arm through the long sleeve she found herself wincing every once in a while as she moved it the wrong way. But at last, she had the plain gray shirt on. Figuring out how to wear the sling again was more difficult, but that too she managed.

Guessing that half an hour was almost up, she ran a brush awkwardly through her hair a few times before returning to the bedroom. She was about to enter the kitchen once more when she stopped in the doorway, turned around and headed back to her bed. Removing her yarn and needles and her journal from her bag of stuff, at the bottom lay her black cloak. Pulling it out, she buried her face in it. The soft folds smelled like home, and gave her a feeling of comfort. At first she thought that it might look weird to wear it, there being no point in wearing a long cloak inside. But then, she really wanted to. Brent probably already thought she was some kind of strange mute girl, and there were probably other people in this place weirder than her.

After slinging the cloak over her shoulders and clasping it at the front, she was ready. Exiting the room and taking the stairs back down, she emerged into the lobby and scanned the place to see if Brent had arrived yet. Hope I didn't take too long.

---

@ERode

“Ouch.”

He pulled up dark jeans, shimmying into the denim material.

“Hisssss.”

He draped on his collared shirt, slipping his arms gently into the sleeves before buttoning it all up.

“Ugh.”

He pulled his dark hoodie over his body, noticing at the hospital staff weren’t kind enough to wash the blood off for him. Now there was bloody hole in his clothes, and he didn’t even know how to patch it up. Maybe learning how to sew would be a good idea now.

Brent winced a fourth time, as he subconsciously raised his right hand to push a couple of unruly strands off his face. He knew that he was reliant on his right hand, but to think that there were so many…random movements that also involved it. The youth frowned, poking at his bandaged shoulder once more.

“Pain in the ass.”

Nevertheless, he was dressed up now, had proper shoes on, and there was still time left over. Another rumble ran through the building, the lights above rattling slightly. Looking up, and then around, Brent narrowed his eyes, before marching towards the windows. He threw aside the curtains and pulled aside the panes, before leaning out, eyes flickering from side to side.

Nothing changed. From here, he couldn’t even see explosions or whatever from the far off battlefield. So, really…what was causing this? Just a minor quake? Was USARILN East on a fault line or something? Brent scratched the back of his head, trying to puzzle out the solution, but there was nothing. Was there anyone he could even ask?

…

Meh!

He disliked not knowing what it was, but he liked the mystery of it all. Swiping his ID card, Brent pushed out of his new room and walked out. The elevators, their floor display panel dead, were clearly not working either, out of a safety measure or whatever, but he wasn’t too concerned with that. Locating the staircase, the youth ran down three steps at a time, nodding at a duo of Arbiters as they passed.

"What do you think that rumbling was?" one neat-looking girl asked another punkish-looking guy.

"Dunno, but Anne says it's safe."

"I don't really trust Anne's power."

"Fucking better than yours."

The snippets were enough for him at the moment. ‘Anne’ had some ability to sense danger, probably, and though he DID want stop them and ask for more, right now, he had food to get. Fuck rumbles, stomach grumbles and all.

Entering the lobby, Brent waved at Sophia with his right hand, cringed in pain once more, before saying, “Heyo Sophs. Pretty cool cape you got there. Shall we be off then?”

He had considered offering his arm like a true British gentleman, but in this scenario, with her dashing cloak and her sleek, straight hair, she definitely looked nobler than this curly-haired vagrant with holes in his clothes.

Gregory Irving

---

---

A bit surprised to hear the greeting, Gregory resisted the urge to immediately turn and look. He took in the world that laid past the rather thick pane of glass for a moment, and then turned towards the woman. It took a few moments for him to take in the details, and he frowned a bit as he tried to remember exactly who she was. Her appearance was a bit familiar, but his mind wasn’t fully co-operating just yet. He quirked a brow at her expression, not quite sure what to make of it. She certainly seemed pleased with herself, but he wasn’t exactly sure the feeling extended to him… His grip on the stand tightened ever so slightly as the names, or at least one of them, finally made his memories click.

Being suspicious of her didn’t make Gregory any less hungry, and it was something he became more aware of at the mention of food. “Uh, th-” The moment of hesitation was more than enough for her to grab him and steer him away from his random wanderings. Though as she barrelled into a locked staff lounge with him in tow, he figured this turn of events was probably for the best... Doing his best to ignore the looks he got from the others and the tension his presence injected into the atmosphere, he breathed deeply and then joined the woman at her table.

Arranging the IV drips so the tubes rested on the table took a few moments, but Gregory relaxed a bit as that was done with before he reached out to take one of the food boxes. “You’re Rosa Schur? Freddy and Grumpy are Fredric, and the Commander?” The public database was basically non-existent of any actual data, but the appearance certainly looked like it fit. Without waiting for a reply, he opened the box and began to spread the contents in front of him. “Huh…” Laid out entirely, there was a rather substantial amount of food…. And there were two more boxes? Jeez. Before he actually dug in though, Gregory looked towards the woman, wondering if she had anything to say.

She laughed, clapping her hands together once before correcting him.

" 'Grumpy' is Director Zhang."

Cracking open the main course, he stared at the pasta for a few moments though it might have been more trying to associate the Director as Grumpy. "I guess," he murmured as he reached for an utensil. "Seems like No-fun-allowed, or Takes No Shit would be more fitting though." Going silent as he began to eat, he eventually leaned back from the table and sighed in satisfaction. "Right, uh thanks for the food, but what'd you mean earlier? Why didn't they think I'd be up so soon? Or does that have to do with why all the other Aberrations are drugged up to hell, or whatever?"

"Because you got shot in the stomach?" she grinned at him, eyeing him up and down with her power before nodding in satisfaction. "But I'm glad you survived! Grumpy would be, too, if she bothered expressing those kinds of emotions. Need more of your kind--the ones we can actually send out to the field."

Clicking his tongue, Gregory tapped his foot a few times before he shook his head and returned to the food. Finishing the rest of it in short order, he looked around the spread before he began to work on the fruit salad. "So, throwaways," he muttered as he set the empty bowl on the table. "Assuming you've read my file, you know my "power"," his tone growing sarcastic at the word, "is pretty garbage as they go. A gun would be better..."

"Bullets are expensive," she joked, before leaning forward, the lines around her eyes growing brighter, "besides, your power is way better than any gun. Except maybe for guns made by that one student--the other new one, what was his name?" The woman leaned back in her chair, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, right! Brent! He can make some neat things. But if we're talking stopping power," she leaned back towards Gregory conspiratorially, "you'd be ballistic."

"What, they aren't free when used on monsters or subnaturals?" He paused, thinking about what he'd just said, but shrugged afterwards. Not thinking before speaking, brilliant. The name wasn't familiar, but he made a note to remember it anyways since they'd probably see one another soon enough. Well, assuming he hadn't been sent out to deal with the emergency. He closed his eyes to push the thoughts aside, but his expression scrunched at the quip.

Eventually, a small smile did break the feigned pained expression and he huffed as he sat up a bit straighter. "Right..." Trailing off as he looked towards what remained on the table, he decided to reach for one of the other boxes for better offerings instead. "So, do you do this every year? Bring food to the casualties of stupidity?"

"Yup!" she pushed the third box towards him as well. "Least I can do. Things are going so wrong we have to send out the new kids, too, but at least while they're here I can stalk them with Grumpy's giant map and trackers and keep them fed."

Digging through the contents of the box, he blinked in confusion for several seconds before adopting a contemplative expression. He hadn't missed the fact that he'd essentially lucked out on getting sent out on a Suicide Squad run on account of being shot, but the box's contents really were interesting. What sort of cafeteria served up surf and turf, or was it exclusive to the staff?

"So Menagerie is the one responsible? And all staff have access to the Eye of Grumpy? Or just the sneaky ones?" Figuring it had waited long enough, he cracked open the container and poked at the steak and then the tail before he hummed in appreciation. Well, if he was to die in the following hours at least his final meal was quite nice.

"Oh, been keeping an ear to the chatty nurses? Yes, supposedly Menagerie," she replied, looking away briefly. "Doesn't read like that to me, though, but what do I know? I'm just a staff mage."

The nurses nearby turned to look at the woman when she referred to herself as a "mage."

"What? Gonna report me to the Director?" A hearty laugh followed her dare and the hospital staff turned away, warily glancing back at her sporadically. "As for the 'Eye of Grumpy,' I like it. I'm going to use that from now on. And I'm not going to answer that question. Just know she has Sauron's giant flaming eyeball and don't screw around too much."

A few nods sufficed for agreement, approval, acceptance, and understanding as Gregory busied himself with polishing off the surf & turf lest it somehow disappear. The empty plate nudged aside, his fingers drummed against the table before he asked, "Any more advice? Don't think bad thoughts around that guy because he can read your thoughts, things like that?"

"Ugh," the staff mage shook her head and threw her hands up in the air, wiggling her fingers dramatically, "way too much advice. Not enough time to give any amount to matter. Probably the biggest thing off the top of my head would be 'don't alienate yourself.' That kind of thing destroys high school life with normal kids, so what do you think might happen here where all the kids have powers?"

She faked a shudder of terror to emphasize her point.

"Got it. Make friends, or at least allies, that might want to save your ass when shit inevariably goes wrong." He began to pack away what food hadn't been eaten into one of the empty boxes, and shrugged at her question. "Sure can. You're the one that's staff though. Any horror stories? Some dumbass starts a fight, and everyone dies when the Director catches wind of it?"

A quick shrug masked the sudden fall in her expression at the mention of "horror stories."

"Yeah, sure. Dumbasses start fights, either the guards or another mage ends it. The students here tend to know that--at least for now--this is as good as it's gonna get. People who don't get that? They get beaten down pretty quick. Most of the staff don't usually have to lift a finger these days."

The box closed with a click, and Gregory scratched the back of his head as pursed his lips and leaned back into the backrest. "Figures..." Presumably there was a time where the staff did, but that didn't seem like a topic easily broached. "Well, thanks for everything so far. You prefer Ms. Schur, or?"

"Rosa," she stood, offering Gregory a hand. "Stay safe. As best you can."

"Gregory then. Or whatever you have to call me as staff." Taking the hand, his other propped itself against the table to help him to his feet. "That's the plan. I heard something about a "Ground Zero" though. Mind giving directions to it?"

"Ooooh, yes," Rosa made a face, like she had just eaten something disgusting, "paperwork."

She rummaged around in her breast pocket for a while before finally pulling out a crumpled piece of paper that had been folded enough times to fit. After several long seconds of squinting at her own handwriting, she finally understood what she was reading.

"Your room's, uh, 302 in Building B, with the other X's, and all the paperwork is there, too." Rosa sheepishly handed Gregory the wrinkled sheet with a crappy, hand-drawn map on it. "Well, then, I guess I better get goooooooing..."

With that, she barreled through the hospital staff in her way like a bull in a china shop, heading outside with a loud shout of "HEY, WHERE'D YOU PUT MY LONGBOARD!"

---

A few more blinks summed up his reaction at the news before Gregory looked down at the crumpled paper and just squinted. It wasn't quite doctor chicken scratch just yet, but still pretty hard to make out. By the time he looked up from his deciphering attempts, all that was left of Rosa were a few annoyed expressions from her departure. Left alone in the staff lounge with a bunch of people that didn't really like him... Yeah, it was time to leave. Naturally the wheels squeaked annoyingly as he dragged the stand with him, other hand clutching the piece of paper, and he went off in search of someone who could discharge him from this depressing place.

One harried nurse with "Margaret" on her name tag scurried up to Gregory, grumbling about Rosa and her "lack of consideration for anyone and anything." Without even greeting the boy, she simply proceeded to remove the IV, peeling off the tape a little too roughly and yanking out the needle just a little too viciously. "Ms. Schur says you're free to go," she spat the name out like a curse.

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she took the IV stand from Gregory, ignoring standard protocols about taking care of patients and leaving him with a pinprick of blood beginning to drop down his arm. Another nurse, taking pity on him, took Gregory aside, applying antiseptic and gauze before patting him sympathetically.

"She's not usually like that, though if the Director finds out, she'll lose her job. Mind not being too hard on her?"

Grinding his teeth as the needle was yanked out, he flexed his fingers slowly and ignored the blood that welled up in response. Margaret had already disappeared by the time he cared to look up, and he glanced around in the few moments before one of the other nurses came over to help him out.

He poked the fresh gauze carefully a few times before he nodded slowly. "She does her job I guess, hard as it probably is." And given the death rate he had read about for the school, it probably was one of the worse hospitals to work at. WIth a nod, he thanked the nurse before he wandered back to his room to pick up some more suitable clothes than a hospital gown.

Surprisingly, his shirt hadn't been discarded into the trash. Sure there was a nice bullet-sized hole near the bottom, but otherwise it had been laundered clean and folded with everything else. A quick change, another frown as he looked at the other Aberrations in the room, and then he took his leave of the hospital, hoping he wouldn't find himself in one of those beds anytime soon again. Probably wishful thinking though...

---

Rosa's map was rather unhelpful, though bless her heart for trying he supposed. A few minutes of wandering around with paper in hand was enough to draw a guard's attention, who was thankfully helpful rather than an asshole, and get him pointed into the right direction. The two buildings were easy enough to spot, and so was the one he belonged in out of the two. A look towards the marble-clad building, and then Gregory wandered into Building B.

Unsurprisingly, the lobby was almost deserted when he entered although only one of the two students that were there bothered to look up. He raised a hand in greeting, only to sigh when the gesture went unreturned. The guards didn’t bother him in the slightest as he trudged over to the elevator, and so he didn’t pay them much attention either.

Jarringly enough, a rather peaceful tune began to play once the doors slid closed and the elevator began to rise. Odd considering how short the ride was and he couldn’t notice any speakers either when he looked around. A ding pre-empted the door’s opening and cut off the music, leaving him a bit confused when he stepped out and into the third floor. There was an area that looked to be a living or common rooms before a hallway on either side led to the rooms. A sign atop each hallway entrance listed which rooms were down each, and without anyone to bother interacting with Gregory simply made a beeline for his own room.

---

Taking a look inside the room reminded him of the pictures one of his brothers had sent back of the housing unit he’d lived in for a few months. It wasn’t a tiny room, but things were quite compacted. The table wasn’t cluttered from the stacks of paperwork on it, but the duffel bags took up most of the floor between the bed and dresser. Closing the door, he wandered down the hall in search of the bathrooms and frowned a bit when he found it. A washroom and then showers deeper into the room. There was a shower curtain that kept the exact layout hidden from him, but he figured they probably weren’t all that considerate. Lifting his shirt to prod at the wrappings, Gregory decided he’d figure how to shower with that on afterwards.

For the time being he returned to his room and began to unpack whatever had been stuffed into the duffel bags. Clothes, tablet, a few more personal belongings, hell his laptop was here too. Setting everything up as he liked took a decent bit of time, and it wasn’t helped that he had to pause in pain constantly as he moved in a way his body didn’t quite like.

Slumping into his seat at last, he kicked one of the duffel bags by his feet aside with a sigh and picked up the pile of paperwork to begin signing away what remained of his soul. The “violent release zone” was probably “Ground Zero” and he quickly scanned through the document before signatures and dates were jotted down and that document tossed aside. The requisition form took a bit more thought on his part though, and he fired up his laptop to fill the room with some music as he thought about it. Rosa was hardly wrong about the stopping power he could generate, but he actually needed some equipment to utilize that effectively. The room, small as it was, was also a bit barebones… Looking down at the blank page, he twirled a pen before deciding to see just how much he could rope out of this.



Satisfied with the current state of his form, he moved onto the stack of tests with a resigned expression. A right pain in the ass, but maybe taking the academic side seriously might help them ease u- “Pft…” Not likely, but fuck it couldn’t hurt to try. Not like he had any pressing issues to attend to at the moment. The sensation at the back of his head was just that, at the back of his head at the moment. He could take care of the Stigma either later today or tomorrow if there wasn’t enough time before curfew tonight. Flipping through the numerous pages of tests, he clicked his tongue as he stopped the pen and got to work.

Most of the subjects were at least somewhat familiar to Gregory, and while he didn’t know everything, he also didn’t care enough to bother searching up the correct answers. Whatever he knew was whatever he filled in, and the ones that graded his test could sort through it. Finished tests were tossed aside to be collected later as he bulldozed his way through the core subjects, relying on what he remembered from classes. It was only a week or so ago that he’d been sitting in class, and the realization caused him to halt completely. Leaning away from the table, he tossed his pen aside with a heavy sigh. “Jeez…”

---

---

The chainsaw doll toppled over, Hazel's jab sending its already unbalanced frame into a flailing fall onto it armless side. With disturbing dexterity, it pushed off from the ground with its remaining bladed arm and twisted its body back into a standing position where it remained still as Devotion and Charity ran up to it. One shadow puppet created sludge while the other began drawing forth something from the doll's body that resembled black wisps.

The doll wobbled its head to look at the two tulpas, almost as if curious, before it detached the chainsaw arm and whipped that in a small circle, beheading and destroying the two shadow puppets. It retracted the chained arm immediately, having apparently learned its lesson from Hazel's previous attack.

At some sudden directive, the doll sprinted backwards, now perfectly out of Hazel's range. Mouth chattering in what appeared to be a laugh, it kicked a large hunk of dirt at both Emma and Hazel.

The eye scorpion, with steaming coffee obscuring its vision, began crying and lunged forward furiously, jabbing at the ground where Lawrence had been originally. Not hitting a target and unable to successfully scrape the coffee off its pupil, it proceeded to turn its eye upward, two glowing green circles spinning into existence. Those same concentric circles replicated themselves high in the sky, larger and spinning at corresponding rates with the source cast. The witch began waving her hands in a series of uneven vertical patterns, causing several glowing motes of purple light to appear around her body.

Meanwhile, the two dolls in the back were eyeing Kusari's and Christmas's prone forms. Without any unoccupied forces to command, one of them began wandering towards the mutilated girl and the other started for the crying boy. They both took large paths around the main combatants of red team, skipping daintily towards their respective downed targets.

---

Ethan continued channeling the large orb of light, the strain showing on his face and body as his muscles tensed and ached with the effort. The bright light that had covered his form before was now almost completely gone, revealing short, brown hair, a tawny complexion, and a reasonably athletic build. He was topless, in a sense, wearing nothing but cargo shorts and tennis shoes. On initial inspection, his upper torso and forearms were wrapped tightly in a silvery, skintight substance. A white stag symbol on the left forearm was the only signature of the creator.

The strange gear flashed brilliantly without warning, compensating for Ethan's loss of light. In response, the gathering spell in the air pulsed with power and condensed into a solid, white sphere, so bright it illuminated most of the battlefield.

Genevieve shivered as the orb grew brighter, gritting her teeth while the magic's nascent form rained a light patter of damage across her barrier. She had been lying to reassure Ethan, but she wasn't quite sure her barrier could withstand Ethan's strongest attack augmented further by his armament. Not this close, at least.

She drew on more of Eric's reserves, so much more that he quickly fell to his knees, doing his best to stay conscious. Her barrier was now almost completely opaque, a light blue dome around her team.

Myla had now successfully fenced in the remaining monsters of what had originally been marked for pink team. A ring of jagged neon had been erected around them like a phalanx. She continued reinforcing any sections that disappeared on contact with one of the creatures, eyeing the golem in the back of the group. It had stopped moving once Ethan had started his cast, like it was waiting for it.

---

---

---

The bird head glared intently at Cal as it stormed towards the girl. Surprise attacks wouldn't work a second time. When Cal jumped again, it was ready. It shuffled a few steps back, getting in prime position to smack its opponent out of the air once again. However, speed was not its strong suit. The bird head's swing missed by a few feet, allowing Cal to reach the hippo head and slash at its throat. The hippo head ducked to protect its most vulnerable area, taking the girl's slash on the snout instead. This head seemed to take pain better than its partner as it only let out a low grunt in response to the wound. Some of the monster's blood splashed onto Cal, hissing and burning her skin like acid. Vivid red rashes emerged on the skin where the drops of blood landed, itching and burning all over. The bird head madly pecked at Cal as soon as she landed back on her feet. The motion made its eye wound spatter its caustic blood all over the dirt. Its beak rammed potholes in the ground as it continued trying to spear the girl.

The fishmen had gotten a bit closer to the action by now. As they passed the mound of rubble, a guttural roar sounded from beneath the rocks. They jumped back and tripped over themeselves again in their startled state. A brief exchange of panicked yips could be heard before they were startled yet another time by the beetle man's enraged moans. The fishmen got to work and began to loosen the rubble to release their superior officer. They nudged the rocks around with their heads, making incredibly slow progress. The beetle man continued berating its poor subordinates as they did their best to remove the bits of debris one by one.

Meanwhile, the squirrels enjoyed a few brief moments feasting on their latest kill. Their gluttonous bliss was unfortunately interrupted by Lily's magic. The squirrel without the gash on its chest screeched in agony, clutching its left eye with tiny, blood-stained hands. It stumbled around, half-blind, before receiving a club to the head from Grant. Its skull was completely bludgeoned in and the squirrel collapsed with a dull thud. Its companion, the one with the chest wound, hissed in alarm and backed towards the truck to ready an attack. The creature seemed unaware of Siena's presence, too busy keeping its eyes on Grant and its freshly cudgelled partner. However it wouldn't matter long as Marcus let loose a shot that nailed the remaining squirrel in the shoulder. It was thrown back and lay prone on the ground, squealing and completely vulnerable.

---

---

As Zoe and Savannah pulled at the noodle entrapping Aaron, the spaghetti monster pulled back-- more aware of losing its dinner than the growing sensation of weakness in its noodle arm. Savannah's attempt to push her energy into the noodle would result in a sigil appearing. Just as the noodle finally gave, spewing white, cheesy sauce all over the place like a rogue hose, the site of the wound exploded with a loud, snapping blast. Glittery red fire and smoke burst outwards and the spaghetti monster screeched and lurched for a moment before clattering to the ground, muffling it's cry as it landed mouth-side down.

Holding his side, Aaron took off at a limping gait towards the trucks. His breathing was shallow-- as anything more severely aggravated the state of his ribs. Just after passing Allison and her makeshift blade, Aaron took a knee. He needed to summon his clockworks, but his head felt more like a fishbowl than a skull. The edges of his vision began to darken, accompanied by a sudden bought of nausea. He could hear faint screaming and the sound of Angel's gunshots before his hearing became too dilluted to diffrentiate one sound from another. The last thing he saw before passing out was the appearance of a large green circle in the sky that seemed to be originating from red team's group of baddies.

Indeed, the rest of green team would see the same ominious green circle in the sky, but they were given little time to gawk.

Using its noodles to prop itself up, the injured spaghetti monster wasn't down for longer than a few seconds. During it's time on the ground, however, the girls would be able to observe a writhing mass of noodles atop the monster's ceramic plate. They certainly didn't seem to be in short supply. It angrily lashed its shredded noodle stub out in front of it as it tried to right itself.

The spaghetti monster that held Alexis rose high into the air during the time it took Allison to retrieve her weapon. For good measure, it greedily held the tall red headed actress with three noodle arms instead of one. It shook her impatiently-- seeming to prefer food that screamed and squirrmed to a limp... well, noodle. The remaining spaghetti monster swiftly began making it's way towards the still-transforming Chris and the raucous gunfire from Angel, finding itself directly in Allison's path.

Eyes closed, Angel felt the barrel of her gun slowly move to the side despite her attempt to keep it steadily aimed at the giant meatball's back. As she attempted to correct it, she felt a hard resistence-- as if something was holding it. Upon opening her eyes, Angel would witness the back of the meatball begin to split and sprout teeth and then eyes. The meatball was pulling it's face through it's body to face her. It's smug smile drooped in ragged pieces on one side as a result of the bullets and a few of its teeth littered the ground at its feet. Its arm shook as it gripping the gun tightly enough for its connected pieces to crack while it's other arm shot out towards her, managing to tightly snatch a fistful of her shirt and lift her off of her feet. What was left of it's massive maw opened to welcome her.

Behind the pair, several of Angel's stray bullets rained down upon Chris-- some pelting the dirt while others struck his newly grown tail and dragon-esque ribcage.

Grant flinched. The only response that came from him as he watched the squirrel’s head and skull caved in at the moment of impact from his club. Just a flinch. He paid no heed to the remaining squirrel as it backed away, and he just continued to step to the body of the obviously dead squirrel. Each step was heavy. With effort. His heavy breaths shook, seeming to rattle his lungs as they did. He looked on at the dead squirrel with empty eyes. His club raised, unaware of anything else around him, not even the squirrel that squealed nearby. He raised his club, and...

A feeling. Some... kind of feeling. An unexplainable feeling. As if.. He had no words for it. Or as if.. there just weren’t any words at all for it. Everything. Yet nothing. Flowing on and on without stop. No. Not just everything. Maybe even something beyond everything. Further. Further from him. Something he couldn’t dare to reach. Yet it reached him. A small piece. A small piece for him. A small piece... of that thing beyond everything. For him... for him. He reached out and grabbed it, knowing, that piece was made just for him. He felt that piece become one with who he was.

Even without him knowing... out of his back, a second chain sprung out, and it shot straight to the club above him, making contact with it. That heavy weight lightened up, and his legs had an easier time holding him up. He stood straighter than before, yet his hands still shook. He felt pain in his palms as his nails proceeded to dig their way deeper into them. He stared down at the still body of the squirrel, and brought the club down. An impact followed. Grant raised it once more, watching the blood almost stick to his earthen club. He brought it down again. Then again. And again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. The earth receded more and more with each impact. Flattening the squirrel more and more against the ground. Pulverizing the son of a bitch until it became no more. He refused to stop. Grant didn’t flinch.

Angélique’s plan definitively went further downhill as she felt the grip on her gun being wrested away from her. Everything went to shit when she saw the monster’s face twisting to its back, effectively facing her in a weird fashion. Seeing as she did not even manage to kill it with her unsteady spray of bullets, a deep sense of dread overtook her, jamming her throat shut from pure fear. When the monster took her by her shirt, lifted her from the ground and opened its damaged jaws to eat her alive, she panicked like she never did her entire life. Tears started forming in her eyes and her mouth was open agape as she furiously tried to yank herself away from the monster, but to no avail. A monster’s strength was nothing comparable to a frail young woman who never physically trained herself beyond the casual jogging and fat-burning exercises to match her well-endowed physique.

As the meatball creature approached its newly caught prey from its maw and the despairing aberration about to shout her soul out, a dragon pulled the monster away from Angel. Having almost resigned to her fate, the metal-singing woman could barely register what had happened in her mind, let alone believe that she was alive. Her tears were running from her cheeks like an open dam, and she even managed to let out miserable groans. Watching as the transformed Christopher rampaging through the battlefield with the meatball in his jaws before throwing it at one of the spaghetti monsters, she felt strangely grateful to her savior. Never in her life she had felt this kind of feeling towards anyone, let alone a total stranger. Admittedly, she never had gotten into this dreadful situation, but it felt good to know that someone was watching her back for once, and not the other way around.

Still mute from overwhelming emotions taking hold of her, Angélique could not utter any wording to express how thankful she was. And soon her attention would shift to the glowing circles looming high above everyone, seemingly coming from red team again. That’s the second thing that comes from over there, after the glitters that rained on the battlefield earlier. Upon examination, with the help of the light emanating from the very big white ball summoned by pink team, Angel deduced one of the creature had been creating that green circle, some sort of scorpion and eye monster hybrid.

Turning to her own team and seeing the wild dragon handling one of those monsters, and turning back to the other teams, Angel was at a conflict about what to do. Although the gun she had used was useless, there was another rifle she could still use from the second guard, as well as two standard handguns. But with what had happened earlier, she wasn’t sure it would be smart to try to fire these firearms. Considering how her screaming power was working, she deduced she couldn’t use it against the spaghetti monsters without affecting her own allies. The options left to her was to either try her luck and fire aimed shots towards the spaghetti monsters, or try to help the other teams, as they seemed to do just as poorly as green team. In this case, the foreboding feeling of the green circled in the sky seemed to be taking top priority. If there was anything she had learned from movies, it’s that giant magical circles in the sky usually meant utter destruction, and that was something Angel would not want to wait up and see if her guess was true or wrong. But she just couldn’t leave her team like that to help the others, especially how mediocre their fighting performance was so far, before Dragon Christopher actually managed to finish transforming and turn things around.

Finally mustering up her resolve to fight back the creatures, Angel got back to her feet and turned to her team. “Guys! Keep the monsters busy and distract them! Let Chris be the one to deliver the final blow!” She called out to them.

The screaming Aberration turned to the nearest monster, the spaghetti monster that was holding an unconscious red-headed Alexis with three of its noodle appendages and staring at her like it was about to eat the unconscious girl. Angel would not allow the creature to devour one of her teammates a second time. Having experimented just about enough times to get a rough estimate of how her screams worked, Angel positioned herself to a distance she assumed was just far enough to stay beyond the spaghetti monster’s reach, but at the same time manage to hit it with one of her sonic blast.

Channeling all the dreadful emotions she had just experienced from being nearly devoured by the meatball monster not even a minute ago, she just let it all out in one loud screech that was akin to one having experienced true despair and unimaginable fear. The all-too-fresh memory of nearly being eaten alive allowed some tears to form onto the one who was previously known to have an angelic voice and now known as one of the best screamers in alive.

Mentally, Angel apologized to Alexis for the pain she was about to make her endure in order to free her from the monster. She hoped, as she let out her despaired-toned shriek, that her attack would manage to stun the creature, and let others be able to yank Alexis away from it.

Hazel Baker

Again.

Once again the doll was moving faster than she predicted. Instead of the jab knocking it off balanced long enough for her to follow up, it recovered with astonishing speed, before running away beyond her range. Hazel wasn't quite in peak condition either, her Stigma, though faint, was acting up. It was also learning fast; she alone might not be enough to topple the dolls, especially if they were all linked together somehow. Chattering wildly, it kicked a large chunk of dirt towards her and Emma.

It was smart enough to learn from her moves, it was smart enough to think up a counter to her abilities, but it wasn't smart enough to count for everything. In keeping away from her, it was freeing her attention to focus on something else, regardless of how short that would be. And with that chunk of dirt...

With an open palm strike, she slapped the chunk of dirt flying at them, exploding it from the combined force of her blow and its own speed. The dust and debris spread in the air, only for a short while, but enough to obscure the doll's view to keep it from realizing what she was doing. She offered only one word to Emma as she turned and ran the short distance towards Lawrence, and the eyeball monster.

"Move."

The sound of the eyeball monster charging at Lawrence was not hard to miss, especially when it was frantically attacking loudly. And now that it had charged at Lawrence, at their center, at her priority one, she was free to attack it as the doll weren't close enough to be a threat. But how she was going to damage it was another story entirely. While it had been a simple test punch, it still withstood one of her attacks, and she was unlikely to be able to land more than a few hits on it before the dolls realize and move in to attack. She needed to be stronger, she needed to be able to pierce its skin, she needed -

***

Hazel took another step forwards, making another ripple through the dead ocean's surface. It was vast and bottomless, but still she stood on the ocean's surface, making slight ripples as she took another step. What was it that compels her so? What was it that kept her walking? There was naught to see all around. Just the eerily still ocean, with surface like glass. But still she walked, though she could see nothing. Still she walked, though she did not know where she was going. Still she walked, because she did not know where she was going.

*crunch*

Jerking, she realized she had set her teacup down on a crumb. The ornate looking white table was almost overladen with biscuits and other delicious confectioneries, barely enough room for her tea set. Mystified, she smoothed down her frilly dress, and looked out towards the garden in the bright sunny day, with nary a cloud in the blue sky. Indeed, to have a cloud at all would be silly, for she was looking up towards the very same ocean she had walked on moments ago. A drop of water dripped down from the ocean, straight down into her half empty cup. Sarah's going to be mad again, she thought nonchalantly. A blessing from the heavens for me, or perhaps should I say ocean?

It was then that she turned her gaze downwards, to find her tea had turned black.

***

For the first time in the fight, she screamed. It had been but a few moments, but to her that vision seemed to last longer. Instinctively moving so as to not waste the opening she had created, she turned her right arm transparent, swinging downwards at the still casting eyeball monster. There was a faint outline of an axe in her hands, barely there, but still noticeable to those with sharp eyes.

---

---

As she finally tore off the noodle, Zoe grinned, tossing the end she still had a hold of aside - although she'd been startled into taking a few steps back as the thing came a little too close to blowing up in her face. While she was fully prepared to snap at Savannah, her attention was caught by the effect it had on the monster as she saw it falling to the floor, even if it wasn't quite out yet. Can't argue with results, I guess.

Of course, it hadn't escaped her notice that Aaron was quick to bail on them. She didn't have the time to watch where he went, though. She wasn't really in 'reasonable' mode right now, so it didn't even occur to her that he was too hurt to fight - but she had enough awareness to realise it was best she kept her distance once things were over, knowing she really didn't have the strength to avoid losing control at him. Either way, he hadn't made a good first impression.

She looked towards the plate, which was beginning to get back up from the floor, flailing its ruined noodle around in front of it. Darting forward, she tapped the edge of the 'plate' for a brief second, before retreating slightly. Now that she wasn't trying to tear anything off, there really wasn't any reason to stay closer to the creature than she needed to. She glanced over her shoulder, wary of the other monsters surrounding them, before deciding to stay at a safe distance.

While part of her wanted to suggest Savannah do the same, she wasn't sure exactly how the other girl's abilities would or wouldn't work - and besides, Zoe's mind was such a mess right now that she really didn't want to open her mouth. It was bad enough what she'd said to Aaron, and with Savannah being an 'X' like herself, it seemed a lot more likely she'd get angry, at least based on Zoe's own experience. She just didn't want to risk having the girl get herself hurt with a stupid decision. After all, she was only a kid - if it came to it, Zoe would rather have herself be the one taking the hits.

Curious to see if the plate counted as alive, she tried using her abilities on it - not focused, but affecting the whole thing as best as she could. If it was anything like a real plate, it'd be brittle enough that her ability would affect it pretty badly if it worked. If it did, it wouldn't take long for flaws to spread through the thing - given enough time, it'd probably snap on its own, but as it was it'd at least make it easier for someone else to break.

Part of her was hoping that wouldn't take too long, because somehow she doubted this particular spaghetti monster would exactly be her biggest fan right about now.