“Quiet as always, eh?” he commented with a smile. At least she wasn’t taking as long as before to respond. Progress was slowly and surely being made, and hey, perhaps by the end of the day, they’ll be super tight best buds!

Yeah, he’d like that.

Walking alongside Sophia, the two speedily made their way to Building D once more, the glass building still incredibly easy to spot. The rumbles had more or less stopped, thankfully, so whoever that ‘Anne’ person was, her power was solid. Things were safe, and he could have dinner without worrying about getting shot by a stray bullet once more. Pretending not to notice all the glances she stole as they walked, Brent took a few quick steps once they were at the doors, this time allowing her to come in before he did.

“Ladies first,” he said, pulling open the door with his left hand and gesturing eloquently with his right. Another twitch of his eye, as a twinge of pain raced up…but he covered it as best as he could. If he couldn’t stand at least this much pain, he might as well roll over and kill himself. Yes…perhaps pain tolerance should be something he started training as well. Mm, he nodded to himself.

A good id-

"You know, you should probably use your arm less."

Brent stopped, moments away from running into Sophia. Blinking once, wondering if he had heard another conversation or something, the amethyst-eyed youth turned his head to the side. Did she just speak up? Loud enough that he could hear her over the background noise of dozens of others having a late dinner? That was certainly impressive, but more so…

She cared?

“Wow,” Brent laughed, “It’s almost like you read my mind.”

Hm…

Perhaps he’ll hold off on pain day. At least for now.

An easy smile remained on his face as he displayed his ID to Jason.

---

“Lotsa things to sample, eh?”

The brunette looked around excitedly, drinking all the sights of food that was practically everywhere. There were salads, sashimi (thick, fresh cuts), spaghetti (with massive meatballs), and even, exotically enough, scorpions. He wasn’t sure WHY there was such variety, or why USARILN East bothered with such luxuries, but on the other hand, it made sense. For all of Zhang’s tough talk, she probably didn’t want to piss off the mages to the extent that they’d go for a large-scale rebellion. Even if the Precursors kill them all, there was then the issue of having no cannon fodder to send at Dreamcatcher’s monsters.

Yup. Totally made sense to him, even if the luxuries present were a bit too out there for him. Seriously, there were even SNAILS for people to eat…though it looked like the escargot had more or less gone cold. Poor slug-things. Unwanted even when considered a delicacy.

As his eyes continued to look around, however, something caught his attention. Something that sent his heart pounding. His blood pumping. His mind screaming with lust.

A table full of big, fat slabs of meat. Chicken, beef, lamb, pork, and even horsemeat, they were all lined up one by one, serve-it-yourself carving knives placed by each of them. Gulping down his saliva, Brent said, “Well, I’ll just head over there. Stock up for hibernation and all.”

With that, like a man possessed, he marched off, ready to gobble down some medium rare roasts.

In that amount of time, a small amount of shit hit the fan.

Whipping his head around at the sound of a crashing table and shattering glass, Brent’s eyes widened and then sharpened as one of the students went berserk. A wild mane of black hair and neon blue lines raced across the floor. What were the soldiers doing? Nothing, none were there! Without looking, his hand found itself wrapping around the handle of a carving knife, knuckles white.

Pain raced down his arm.

Right hand, huh?

His own magical surged from within, almost on the cusp of bursting out and Overclocking this flesh-rending blade, before another shout sounded, this time from a frightened adult. Ah, the cuffs. They had something like that, didn’t they?

The cuffs flickered briefly, before all their lights disappeared albeit one. And from there, all he saw was electricity, all he heard was the thumping of a body rattling against the marble floor.

It took an instant to reduce that X into a blubbering, frothing mess, the flesh around his ankle ruined. Brent sniffed and grimaced. An unpleasant scent was wafting through the place now, charred meat combined with vomit. Dislikeable. All those people with their weak stomachs, spewing out a mess that the poor janitors have to clean up. He patted his own, and it just growled in response.

Yup, he still had an appetite, still had room to fill up.

Turning back to the haunches of meat behind him, the youth switched the carving knife from right to left and got to work, sheering thick cuts of flesh from the bone. Juices oozed out fragrantly, and he breathed in that much more pleasant aroma. He took a spare plate afterwards and began shovelling the meaty pile onto it, before turning back around.

Didn’t take long for him to spot Sophia amongst the silent, glum crowd. Yeah, that whole incident left a bad taste in his mouth as well but…hey, wasn’t times like these where you should be grinning?

…yeah, that sounded about normal.

“Yo Sophs,” he called with a beautiful smile, taking care NOT to wave this time, “Got your food? Let’s find a table and dig in then!”
@VampireOracle

The kick landed with a resounding crunch, signalling shattered bones and broken resolve. Sander couldn’t help but shivered at the familiar sound. He twisted midair with a feline grace and landed effortlessly on his feet, heart still hammering from the rush of blood.

Hands closed around his throat but he peeled them away like walking on dead leaves, with a satisfying crunch. Warmth wrapped around his shoulders in a wet embrace, and he was shaking from its feather-light weight.

Something dropped to the floor next to his feet. He looked, only to find lifeless eyes staring back, waiting. A question on dead lips. The promise of fire. He leaned down.

Then guns went off. Loud. He crouched, curling onto himself, but he looked. The bullets were so slow, and they hit him like rain drops. There was no pain. His gaze turned toward the masked faces, their eyes wild and they reeked of sweat and piss and fear. No longer the apex predators, them. All rabbits beneath their donned hide. His lips curled, revealing teeth that stained wine-red.

Thin wires twined around his arm and leg just as the heady aroma of coffee hit him. He grimaced, but it wasn’t because of pain. There was none; the sharp wires just tore at the fabric of his clothes, leaving an odd pressure on his skin. His eyes found a flash of red as Christmas was dragged through the dirt, the blond boy’s scream cut through the ding of battle. He moved first, a few quick steps took him closer to the doll’s sprawling left arm, toward that intoxicating scent. Then his mind caught up, struggling to put a name to his course of action. He was saving their healer. The blond boy was in danger. He was going to break the doll’s arm off, freeing Christmas. Nothing more.

And he attempted to do just that. The doll struggled and pulled on its wires, but he held fast. With a final leap, he was standing right before the creature’s left arm. Immediately, he grabbed the offending limb, fingers of his right hand digging into the crevice of its joint. The doll didn’t cease its squirming, but it was for naught. The pull of the wires could only serve as a mild annoyance to Sander as he lifted his left arm and started to pound his fist against the smooth porcelain surface of the doll’s arm.

Blue eyes, bloodshot and glittered with tears. Like marbles.

He brought his fist down again.

His lips against soft flesh. Heaven, compared to dull plastic and cold metal.

Again.

The irregular rise and fall of frenzied breaths beneath him. Whimpers of a cornered prey.

And again.

Blood splattered on his face and body, but it was lukewarm and off-color. It was not what he wanted. Not at all. These things didn’t even have the decency to carry proper blood within them.

---

---

Christmas quickly reevaluated his relief at being here when the sharp wires cut deep into his left leg, the lacerations wrapping up to mid-thigh. Then the wires tightened. And pulled.

His nerves screamed with him.

The lines slit flesh and muscle apart the harder he struggled.

A fuzzy awareness in the midst of the pain noticed Sander was caught in wires as well, but beyond that his body was acting on pure instinct, hands clawing at the ground for purchase as the doll reeled him in.

When the coiling pressure slicing into his wounds abruptly subsided, his mind hardly processed it.

The mental overload pared his thoughts down to the bare minimum, focused only on breathing, breathing, breathing as he fought the blurriness in his vision that was tempting him to close his eyes.

Marcus paused as one of the fishmen flopped over. While his bullets didn't seem to be affecting the creatures very much in terms of damage, he had at least made himself an annoyance, which meant they had to divert their attention between unburying their commander, and worrying about him being a pain in the ass. And if there was one thing Marcus knew, it was that he was very good at being a pain in the ass.

Lily kept her eyes at the fishmen as Marcus shot at them. They were both preoccupied with freeing their buried comrade that it'd probably be easy to injure them or even take them out... Lily bounced on the balls of her feet, feeling excited at the destruction that her team mate would rain upon their fishy adversaries. But she was in for disappointment... there was no blood, no guts spilling out, no fish fillet. While the fishmen looked dull witted and comical, they were actually sturdier than they looked and Marcus' bullets succeeded only in knocking one of them off its feet. And as soon as the first one was down, the second one turned towards them just as the trapped beetleman roared loudly, it's fist free from the rubble trapping it. "Oh great..." she muttered.

He was about to let another barrage of shots loose when the battlefield in front of suddenly turned to day, his shadow stretching out in front of him. As a matter of fact, it didn't seem to stop at day, but was bright enough to almost obscure his vision, before dimming back down to normal ambience. He tuned quizzically, looking to Lily.

Lily didn't even notice the light nor Marcus' quizzical look. Her eyes were fixed on the fishman that had turned its attention to them. Time seemed to slow down for her. Instead of a fish face, she saw the face of a man. His face was strangely familiar but no matter how hard Lily tried, she couldn't quite pinpoint where she knew him from. He had golden hair, golden eyes and a twisted smile on his face. He reached out a hand towards her, his mouth forming a single word. Lily... She stepped forward, her petite body partly shielding Marcus. And then before she could do or say anything, pain once again blossomed in several parts of her body. Her right eye automatically lost its vision, the razor sharp scale successful in cleaving it in half and lodging itself there. Several other scales lodged themselves into her flesh, one on her arm, another one on her right leg and a third buried itself into her left kneecap. She immediately crumpled down onto the ground once again screaming in pain. Blood ran down her cheek, her arm and her legs, soaking her clothes red.

Marcus simply stood and watched quizzically as Lily stepped in front of him, and he recoiled in panic when he immediately saw her get perforated by...something. Scales? He looked up to see one of the fishmen launching what appeared to ineed be scales in their general direction. As he stood dumbfounded, one whizzed by his head, slicing his shoulder on the way past. Had it been a different situation, he might have laughed, but with Lily screaming on the ground in front of him, and the beetle man making his way out, it was clear they needed to run.

"Sorry Lily, but no time to rest!" Marcus said, grabbing Lily's arm and forcefully pulling her up. He winced a bit as his shoulder burned with the exertion, but continued pulling Lily to her feet. She was not in great shape, and his mind started to race with battle plans. She'd need healing...but she could heal herself...but then again...Calm down. He forced his mind to slow down for a moment. What they needed right now was cover, something to prevent them from further being torn apart by scales. Fortunately for them, it seemed like their other teammates were back in the game.

”Hey! Over here!”

"You heard the man, over there!" Marcus yelled, and he yanked Lily along by the wrist. He wasn't sure how well she'd be able to see with a scale imbedded in her eye, and the yanking of her arm couldn't be helping her at all, but it seemed like a better alternative than being torn to ribbons. He didn't even stop his step as Grant pulled a huge chunk of earth up and threw it over their heads, instead focusing on the hole where the dirt used to be. It wasn't the best of cover, but it would work.

No matter how hard she tried to bring herself under control, the pain was almost all consuming. With her eyes closed, she felt someone take a hold of her wrist and began dragging her somewhere. Marcus, obviously. The movement made the pain worse and all she could really do was scream some more. But with the pain again came that clarity of mind. Why was she here? What were they up against? In her mind, amidst the pain, she could almost see the monster that had injured her. It was still guarding its fallen companion, ready to fire again at anything that moved. She knew what she had to do. After all, she had already proven its effectiveness earlier with their smaller opponents. Didn't she even suggested Marcus to shoot her? All she had to do now was grit her teeth, endure the pain and transfer it all back to who dished it out.

"Watch your step, big hole directly in front of you!" Marcus said, hastily diving into the hole and turning to help Lily's descent. His eyes flicked over to Grant, who had apparently fallen in, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his chest moving. They didn't need any more casualties here.

Lily took a deep breath and tried opening her eyes. The pain in the right eye made the left eye teary. She closed them again and depended on Marcus to lead her into the hole. She felt herself sag against someone. Her heartbeat quickened. Was it Marcus? Was he injured as well? Dead? Or maybe some of their team mates? Siena, Cal, Padma... her gruesome death flashed into her head. No,no. Focus Lily. Focus. There will be time to mourn later. First, she just had to check who was beside her. Slowly, she turned her head and cracked open her good eye. She could see a boy through her hazy vision. Grant. A quick assessment told her that he wasn't injured, only extremely exhausted. Lily let out a sigh of relief and then turned her attention back to her pain, her injury and the irritation of not being able to see properly for the second time around. "Just how many times am I gonna be blinded in this battle?" she muttered irritatedly as she invoked her powers. The same black thread appeared on her wrist and connected her with the fishman that injured her.

The effect was instantaneous. Pain from her eye, her arm and her legs abated. Lily jumped to her feet, completely unscathed. "Try to bounce that off, fish freak!" she cried out. Her eyes widened as several more scales whizzed past her, missing her head by mere inches. She immediately ducked back down.

Marcus, capitalizing on Lily's power, popped his head over the ridge of the hole to take three more potshots before ducking back down again. He looked over to where Grant lay; "You alright, there? he said quickly, not quite considering this the time or place for small talk.

Hazel Baker

Her swing missed the eye monster's main body, instead hitting one of its finger limbs.

There was some slight satisfaction welling up from that hit, but it did not sate her building desire nor did it do much to diminish the growing noise from her Stigma. Rather, it made her cravings for destruction harder to contain, her only real method to silence the memories creeping in through the collar's limiting mesh. Suppressing it with the collar, or trying to drown it with the drugs could only postpone the inevitable.

Small arms wrapped around her, as a girlish voice whispered into her ears. "Don't worry, I will always-"

Jerking, she instinctively turned and spun, attempting to dislodge the nonexistent child on her back. A high pitched whirr rushed past her, slamming onto the ground and kicking up dust. The attack just barely grazed her, thankfully only snagging on her right sleeve and tearing that apart instead of her entire arm. Her arms moving before she could even register what happened, Hazel threw a right jab, the impact of the blow colliding solidly with the doll's midsection, before throwing a left uppercut towards the head, exploding the ceramic head away spectacularly with the blow. It was just an approximation of a boxing move, a pale imitation from someone who had only ever seen and heard about it, but combined with her ability it was effective enough on the doll.

Euphoria flooded her mind at that instant, that instant where she shattered the doll's body, an exhilarating feeling that left her mind feeling white and blank. It reverberated through her body, leaving her legs feeling weak and her body aching.

She wanted, she needed, to experience that thrill again, to fill her mind with white, to wash everything white, to drown everything in that pleasure. Hazel could very well do that easily. After all, all she needed to do was turn around, and cut down Lawrence where he stood. It didn't matter what powers he had when she could-

"Then, I recognize you as my handler, access Alpha, ID 2EFD89. Please do not hesitate to give me any orders. Keep in mind, I will prioritize the handler's safety first, my survival second, and any other orders third."

Hazel held up a hand to her collar, trying to calm her breathing. She had no need of such things, for she had already destroyed much of one large doll. Her first priority as of now was Lawrence's safety, and nothing else beyond that. He had given no orders, directives or objectives for her to follow, and thus she was simply there to defend him. If that was the role he wanted from her, then so be it.

Emma didn't respond to Kusari, at least not at first. The girl she had thought was dying was now standing, almost whole once again. But therein lay exactly what terrified Emma: Kusari was not as she once was. Emma cringed away- it was certainly a ghastly sight, perhaps even moreso than when she was 'dying'. Not, not quite, but... this isn't right... Emma wasn't quite prepared to see something so clearly unnatural as Kuari's leg, which would fit better in Jurrasic Park than on the field in front of her. It did appear that Kusari was indeed, as Emma had suspected, alive by the grace of her power. Emma stood up. She was sure that she would be seeing much more stranger things in the near future, assuming she survived the battle.

The doll was resuming it's attack, quickly dispatching Emma's tulpas. If I want to win I need to control them better, or else they'll just blindly charge to their deaths.. She looked at Kusari, ”Are you able to fi-” the words stuck in Emma's throat. Something was happening...

---

A memory came to Emma...

A memory?

She wasn't sure if it was an old experience, or a new one. She sat alone on a beach, the white sand cool against her feet having long since been shaded by the umbrella overhead. She wasn't herself, at least not the self she was on the battlefield fighting Menagarie's monsters. She was younger, or at least she felt younger.

Wait, alone?

She wasn't alone. In fact, she was surrounded by people. By friends. Friends from before USARILN, before stigmas, before powers, before being something less than human. She was normal- just a normal high school girl, in a completely ordinary world. At least what qualified as ordinary when you lived in a world inhabited by Dreamcatcher.

She only felt alone.

Her friends around her chatted, played, lived. She curled up in her chair by herself. She did the minimum, spoke when spoken to, obliged them when they wanted talk, but she wasn't really there. This was a long time ago. She wasn't good a faking it. Perhaps she only had friends because they were obligated to hang out with her?

She didn't like wearing a bikini.

In truth she felt exposed. Like everyone was looking at her, the parts that she didn't want other people to see. She wanted to hide herself in more ways than one. Cover up and slip away where no one could see her.

The ocean called to her.

She got up for the first time since she had gotten to the beach and began to walk towards it. Cautiously, slowly, tip-toeing in fear of alerting those around her to her presence. Or was it something else she feared? The ocean's surface was glassy and still.

Still? There were suppoused to be waves, weren't there?

She kneeled next to it in a careful, calculated manner. She realized that she wasn't afraid of the others, she was scared of the ocean. More accurately scared of the ocean first and her 'friends' second Scared yet drawn to it in an oxymoronic manner. She looked into the water's expanse. It was perfectly clear- she could see al the way down to the distant floor of the ocean, hundreds of feet below.

Hundreds?

This wasn't a proper coast, she realized. It wasn't a gradual slope into the murky bottom but a sudden dropoff like the rim of a glass. There was something down there at the bottom. Something writhing, something hungry, something that was beyond her understanding in every possible way. Something vast. It called to her.

She really was alone now.

The people around her bled away into the background, and she felt at one with the ocean and the force it held and that terrified her. She felt it entering her and her entering it... but it was just a drop. It was consuming so much of her but she consumed so little of it.

She was tainted.

---

Suddenly she was back on the battlefield. The doll was in front of her, Kusari was next to her, and no time had passed at all. She never left, she had been there all along, she realized. She was trying to remember what she was saying but she couldn't. She took a breath and suddenly before her were Determination and Devotion. But Determination was different. It was no longer fluid like the rest of the Tulpas- it was now solid, covered in black plating that resembled chitin.

The ocean's power? Is this what I was scared of?

She needed to stop the doll.

”Devotion, slow the doll and then attack with Determination. Try to topple the doll.” Her words were steady- she wasn't sure what she was doing, but it sounded a little more like she was.

Between seeing Kusari stand to her feet with what looked like a mortal injury, to her now monstrous right leg that had replaced her normal one, the shock on Emma's face should have been expected. But it wasn't. Being looked at as if she were some abomination, it hurt her. She wouldn't admit it, and if they weren't about to be carved into pieces right now she would most likely be screaming at Emma right now. Instead of screaming, Kusari turned her gaze to the doll and watched as she grew accustomed to her leg. The first thing she noticed was how powerful it was. Standing on one leg, her body felt weightless. Using her sharp talons, she dug at the ground. The dirt easily broke apart as if she were digging into jello. She wasn't quite sure, but wasn't this leg really powerful?

Emma summoned her creatures again, this time the larger one appeared different than the last time she saw it. The creature looked like it could actually take more than a single hit now.

Emma commanded the two of them. Kusari watched, rubbing a crick in her neck as it finally healed. The ground around the doll turned to sludge, something that seemed a little more than useful given their foe's agility.

"Hey Emma..." Kusari muttered, tossing the bloody scarf to her. She'd apologize for dirtying it, but it wasn't as if she asked for it, her neck would have healed regardless. "Why are you sending the smaller one in to die? It looks like it's ability is far more useful than anything it could do physically..." She knew she was basically telling someone how to use their own ability, but it didn't seem logical to her. She hopped on her right leg a few times, then took a deep breath. "Keep it focused on slowing it down instead, and make sure it doesn't end up slowing me down as well." With that Kusari ran, and tripped onto her face. She silently got back to her feet, ignoring the fact that she had let out a fairly dainty yelp just now. She sprinted once more, this time adjusting her weight and speed properly. She would kick off of the ground with her powerful leg, land on it, and kick off again. You couldn't call it running really, it was more like jumping.

She curved around the doll, expecting Emma to handle her creatures properly enough to keep the target still. Now behind the doll, she knelled down, and launched herself towards the doll. Mustering all the strength she could, she sent a piercing slash towards the doll's back.

Emma nodded slowly at Kusari's suggestion. She called out, ”Devotion, stop... just slow the doll and try to not slow Kusari.” The tulpa quickly halted, now standing roughly inbetween Emma and the Doll.

---

---

---

---

As the sword came to a halting stop against the leg, Cal unfortunately did not. With a light snap! the flimsy sword broke in two, leaving her with a small stump of a blade. She shuffled back with the bird's movements as it frantically tried to find her, hissing with a curse behind her teeth. The blood on her side and face was still burning. Well, that was just great. What now?

As if on cue, the quadruped lifted the leg she'd just attempted to sever, locking eyes with her after deducing how the blade ended up there. She grinned sheepishly, dropping her hand that still held the hilt and turning just enough so it couldn't see. She couldn't say why that seemed like the appropriate response, but it at least didn't impair her ability to jump out of the way when the beak came shooting towards her again. What was she supposed to take it down with now? If she tried punching it in the gut, she might punch straight through the hide. The trunk-like legs didn't seem to bleed, but that didn't mean the stomach wouldn't. What was she supposed to do to those legs without anything to cut with anyway?

Think... think... there must be something else I can do. It's not invincible. I can kill it. I just have to--

As she bent her legs to step out from under another pecking attack, her vision blurred into darkness for a moment. As it refocused, a high pitched ringing filled her ears. For a moment she wondered where she was. It seemed like she hadn't moved, and yet something felt off. Everything was frozen in time and, much like her dream, everything beyond a few feet of herself and the quadruped was shrouded in darkness. She straightened herself, disturbed by the distinct lack of alarm her movements carried as she calmly turned around to face her shadow. Besides herself, it was the only other thing that moved. It rippled violently on the ground like a puddle in an earthquake, but although her mind screamed in protest, she stepped forward, closed her eyes, and fell through.

As she submerged, she emerged. She could feel her hair and clothing fall back into place just before she fell forward, catching herself on her hands and knees. What she felt beneath her skin was cool and wet like water-- the stillness of it only briefly interrupted by her trespassing. As she got back to her feet, she observed her new surroundings, but felt strangely at home. She belonged to this place. She had not belonged here before, but she did now.

Still, glassy water stretched out in all directions-- as far as the eye could see. Although she stood upon it, she knew this much to be true. It was an ocean. Writhing nebulae and twinkling stars in the dark sky above were captured perfectly within its vast, placid surface. A few feet in front of her, a disturbance in the water caught her eye. Ripples shrank inwards before rising-- a splash in reverse as a marble sized droplet rose out of the water.

Hers.

Mine.

That droplet belonged to me.

Distilled for me.

I stepped forward and extended my hand, stretching my bones until the tip of my index finger made contact. A white, tar-like substance raced across my skin with an unnatural warmth. I recoiled-- for the first time since I emerged from my shadow I felt an unsettling fear. The white enveloping my hand broke apart and floated upwards until I could no longer see it. I almost tried to turn back-- unwilling to accept this gift, though I knew that wasn't an option. I had to accept it.

It was mine.

It was hers.

Callan hesitated for a moment before, all at once, her arm shot out and grasped the droplet tightly in her palm. Across her knuckles, a chill passed as a black, tar-like substance began to form a mirroring fist and part of an arm. Though she found it terrifying, she kept her grip. Her amethyst eyes looked beyond the shadowy imitation arm-- reflecting a visual orchestra of writhing nebulae and twinkling stars.

Reality returned with a splash of red and an explosion of pain as the flesh of her outer thigh tore nearly to the bone. Her body jolted backwards before the descending beak could do anymore damage as it embedded itself into the ground before her. She cried out in pain, not sure whether to react to her leg or the growing agony in her side and face as the caustic blood suddenly seemed to be eating away at her more quickly. Her ears were still ringing and her vision was out of focus. She landed on her back, frantically trying to crawl backwards with only one question on her mind. She felt so weak.... How?

Through flooded eyes, she saw something pass her as she fell. It was thin and black-- a shadow. Her shadow. An arm of her shadow, to be more exact. The arm dragged the shadow along the ground and it stretched as she backed away-- like a cape caught on a nail. It's razor sharp claws embedded themselves into the exposed throat of the bird head before it could pull it's beak from the earth for another peck. Blood, and a great deal of it, burst from the wound. It sizzled as it landed just inches in front of her feet.

The shadowy arm withdrew then. It slid back into her shadow, which snapped back into place. She felt her strength return instantly, though the wound in her leg remain. Unfortunately rapid regeneration wasn't a part of her repertoire.

---

Savannah fell to the ground swiftly, not knowing what had happened. For a second she was bewildered and confused, not knowing what had happened as she had not seen what had tripped her. Then a blood-curdling scream as Zoe was swept into the monster's mouth and eaten. It took a moment for her to process the facts.

After a few seconds of sobbing, Savannah heard a sickening crack next to her head, and a spray of something- blood, she realized with a start. She turned her head to the side, and screamed again. There was Alexis's body, bent at an unnatural angle, her eyes glassy and her chest motionless.

At this point, she was shaking so badly she couldn't move. She grasped for anything- anything to defend herself- but there was nothing except for the blades of grass at her feet. She gulped, gripping the soil with her small hands. By now, she was coated in goo and blood- a bit of her own, but mostly other people's. She was crying a lot, blubbering. She couldn't get her eyes off of Alexis's body. She hadn't known the girl- she had seen some of her TV shows, but she had never known her personally. But- the one thing that got her- she died in such a brutal way. She hadn't deserved it, judging from her speech in the truck. And neither had Zoe.

And now it was Savannah's turn.

---

As Allison approached Aaron, she heard a sickening crunch far behind her. Alexis had been released, and Allison's assumptions were correct. Well, if they weren't, they would be by now. Allison didn't allow herself to look at what remained of the girl.

Aaron seemed to be lifting himself off of the ground, hissing at Allison to go back to the battle. She wanted to stay and make sure he was fine, but he was right. Of course he was right. Allison was running from the battle. Someone was already dead, and it was Allison's fault. She couldn't let that happen again. Allison looked Aaron over once before turning her back on him, and looking out at the horrifying state of the battlefield.

Zoe was gone. She was there before, right? Did she run off somewhere? Where was Zoe. No, Allison could easily guess where Zoe was. Two dead in mere moments. Allison could've prevented this. It was her fault. And now the angry-looking girl, Savannah was lying on the ground, though definitely alive. Alexis' corpse was right next to her. Had she seen both Alexis and Zoe die? No child should have to experience this nightmare.

'Don't just stand around, you idiot! Move!' Allison sprinted as fast as she was physically able to, finding herself standing over the downed girl. The corpse was right there. 'Don't look at it. Just don't look at it.' Allison quickly grabbed at Savannah's arm. "Come on, we need to move!"

Savannah felt a grab at her arm. She turned around, frightened, but then realized that it was just Allison. After hearing her instructions, she nodded and got on her feet shakily. She looked up at Allison. Wow, she's really tall. she thought in her head. The girl was almost a foot taller than her, making Savannah have to crane her neck to look at her.

"C'mon, lass, as ya said,we've gotta get movin', roight? the girl said, and then turned pink.

Allison hadn't expected the girl to be as responsive as she was. Allison had expected Savannah to be in shock, an unresponsive crying mess, and here she was ready to move. The girl was stronger than she looked.

"A-alright, come on." Allison kept hold of the girl's arm, moving away from the monster and the corpse as quickly as she could get Savannah to go.

Savannah was running to keep up with the pace Allison had set. Not to mention she was half-dragging her and had a rock-hard grip on her arm, which was unpleasant to say the least.

---

Allison dragged the girl over to the trucks near Aaron, who had propped himself up against one of the things, probably starting his casting. She finally let go of Savannah, realizing that her grip was much tighter than she would of liked. Allison realized that she hadn't actually gotten a good look at the girl, as she was too caught up in getting the girl away from the pasta to focus on anything. Savannah was absolutely covered in blood and pasta sauce. Savannah had just been through hell, watching two people die right next to her, and she looked like it. Allison found herself hugging the younger girl, her arms squeezing much too hard, unwilling to let the child go.

Savannah gasped as Allison pulled her into a hug. It was unexpected, but she wan't mad about it. On the contrary, actually. Honestly, it had been a long time since someone had given Savannah a real hug. Her mother had always been so caught up with work that she hadn't had time for things like this. So Savannah found herself leaning into an almost-stranger's hug, breathless and on the verge of tears from what she had just witnessed. She vaguely knew that she was going to ruin her shirt, but didn't care. She squeezed back, not about to miss an opportunity for a nice hug.

After a few moments, Allison removed herself from the girl, blood and sauce ruining the front of her shirt. She had half a mind to apologize for the abrupt hug, but knew there was little time for it. Allison silently turned around, looking out at the creature that they had just run from. That thing had killed Zoe. No, Allison didn't know that, she didn't see the girl die, there wasn't even a body. Savannah would know. Maybe Zoe just ran off, or maybe she used some secret teleportation power and got out of there. Anything was better than death, and Allison needed to know. She turned back around to face Savannah.

"About Zoe..." She started, failing to find the correct words easily. "What... what exactly happened?"
Savannah breathed deeply, her gaze casting to the ground. "Zoe died." she says in a shaky tone. "She used her ability on the plate part, but it didn't work. After that, I was asking her what we should-" she says, her voice abruptly cutting off. "I-I was asking her what to do, and then the noodle t-tripped me, and it took her- as she says this, the look in her gaze is horrible. "I-it took her, and then popped her in it's mouth." After getting through this, Savannah starts to cry again.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have asked." She hugged the girl again, this time much lighter. Why did she ask that? Allison already knew the answer to the question before she asked it. The girl's tear-soaked words beat at Allison over and over again until they made her realize something. Zoe's ability didn't work on the plate.

Allison's eyes widened, her mind beginning to race. She kept hold of the younger girl, wanting to console her until her crying ended. Allison wasn't just going to run off and leave this girl a crying mess on the ground.

---

When Savannah did calm down, Allison gently removed herself from the girl, and looked down at her own hands. She had dropped the makeshift blade during her attempt to console the crying child. Allison knew what to do.

"You said that Zoe couldn't affect the plate, right?" Allison didn't wait for a response, instead she moved quickly, picking up the blade and shaking whatever refuse off of her shirt that she could. "Stay here, at least until your power recharges. I'm going to get revenge." She turned and started towards the thing that had devoured Zoe, ready to summon the shard.

---

---

There wasn't even time to react. One second she was stood up, ready to keep fighting, to protect everyone, to survive - the next she found one of the noodles going straight past Savannah and snaking around her ankle, with a grip that suddenly felt impossible to pull away from. Clearly the monster had stopped playing around now, and it was out for blood.

And then she was flying through the air, barely having a second to even understand what was going on. No way to escape, no way out of it. Just tossed helplessly through the air like a ragdoll. She was dead. She was going to die. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

It was a strange moment. She'd expected to feel some kind of acceptance or resignation whenever her luck ran out, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. Even as she soared towards certain death, all she could think of was how many reasons there were to keep living. Grief and anger and hopelessness at how she'd never get to see any of it, and she was so, so scared-

---

The muffled thudding sound of her body colliding with the 'wall' almost seemed to echo, even though the space didn't seem quite big enough for it. It was soft on the surface, but dense underneath, at least cushioning the blow enough that didn't seem to suffer any major injuries as her body fell to land in a shallow pool of some kind of liquid. Dazed from the impact, it was only when she'd sat up and placed her palm on the nearest wall, finding it oddly warm to the touch, that it dawned on Zoe exactly where she was. Paling at the realisation, she scrambled to her feet and looked around with a panicked, disbelieving laugh.

You're kidding me, right?

Somehow she was alive in the belly of the beast. Either that or she'd died, but somehow she doubted hell smelled of marinara. Of course, she had no doubt everyone else thought she was a goner. She could hardly believe it herself, and there was no way there'd be any sign she was alive for the people out there to see.

Only the faintest hint of light seemed to reach here - barely enough for her to make out her surroundings. The walls seemed to be made of the same sort of meat-like matter as the 'meatballs' outside with noodles threaded throughout, and the space itself was tall enough that she could stand up, although it was a little bit claustrophobic.

Unfortunately, it was also bright enough for her to get an idea of what exactly she was standing in - a pool of bubbling sauce-like liquid that she guessed was probably some kind of stomach acid. She sort of thought she could feel a slight irritating feeling where it had made contact with her skin, although that could just have been her imagination. Trying her best to ignore exactly what she was covered in, she took a second to think things through and look past her rising panic. Now that she was paying attention, there was something sinister lurking under the initially appetising smell. Something sickly and rotten.

So I've graduated from a quick death to being slowly digested alive. Lucky me.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, she wasn't really the type to die quietly. Oh, there could be no question that she was shaken, teetering on the verge of panic. Barely holding it together, if she was honest with herself. But she was alive and despite the hopeless situation, she wasn't broken yet. Wouldn't let herself be. There were still things she had to make up for and her team were fighting for their lives out there - she wasn't about to make them go it alone if she could help it, even if they all probably thought she was dead right now.

As she looked around, she tried to stay focused on her anger at the complete unfairness of it all. That was the only thing keeping her going right now, forcing her to maintain some kind of composure. She'd tried to help her team, tried to keep everyone safe, so what gave this thing the right to end everything like that? It wasn't fair for her to be killed like this. Besides, she'd be dying to a monster made up of fucking spaghetti, and that was just embarrassing. For whatever reason, it was that particular ridiculous thought which spurred her into action.

Clenching her fists, she practically charged over to the wall before pounding her fists into the surface in frustration. They sank into the dense wall of the creature's stomach over and over with a dull, meaty, series of impacts. It hurt a little more than she'd expected it to, but that was good. Pain reminded her she wasn't dead yet, gave her something to focus on. She took a second to pause for breath, staring at the surface in front of her.

Looks like this is it. Just gotta give it my best shot.

She didn't know if there was any real hope of survival, but she could still try and make it out of this. Because it hadn't killed her, and she wasn't ready to die - so as long as she was alive, she could fight to keep herself that way. In an act more out of desperation than anything else, she lashed out against the surface, she decided to extend her powers for what she feared would be the last time.

Sophia Lemane

She couldn't get over the amount of food that surrounded her, many of them kinds that she had never eaten. The luxury in the place was quite astounding, she had been expecting something more like a regular school's cafeteria. It didn't take Brent long to pinpoint a table and march off to get some food, leaving her standing there still trying to decide what to eat. Just, like, choose something you know you'll like and get going, she told herself, and made another quick sweep of the room with her gaze. Finally deciding to begin by wandering around the tables, she grabbed a plate from a pile and began to quickly add on food from different sections to make up for that minute she had spent standing there doing nothing.

A few generous spoonfuls of rice that looked like it was mixed with corn, and some cauliflower and green beans were arranged carefully on her plate before she spotted a platter nearby holding pieces of grilled salmon. Salmon was on her list of favorite foods, so she didn't waste time walking over and setting her plate down so she could serve herself. However, her plans were ruined as the noise of a loud crash sounded across the room, and from the corner of her eye she saw a table flip over, sending food flying. Turning quickly to face the scene, she took in the black-haired aberration and the quickly spreading swirled blue lines.

Her heart-beat quickening, she automatically took a step backwards so she was pressed against the table with one hand gripping the edge. A man shouted something about a danger level, and it was with eyebrows drawn together that the noticed the ankle cuffs blinking before they zeroed in on the target and left only the black-haired boy's cuff on. Unable to tear her eyes away or to turn away, she looked on as the aberration was zapped. A faint ringing filled her ears as the cuff went off the first time, then a second, and finally a third time before someone issued a command for it to stop.

Seeing the figure lying there bleeding and burned, she was finally able to turn away. Sophia couldn't blame the people who were vomiting their dinner onto the floor, perhaps she would have done so if she had anything in her stomach to get rid off. Putting some of her weight against the edge of the table, she used her left hand to lift the corner of her cloak, pressing it against her nose and mouth to try and block out some of the scent.

Breathe in, now breathe out. It's all over. In... and out.

After a few breaths, she was able to push away most of the ringing in her ears, though a slight buzz still remained persistently. Dropping the corner of her cloak and cringing as the stench hit her once more, she lifted a piece of salmon onto her plate and noted with some dismay her shaking hand.

Does this happen often? I agree that the boy had to be stopped, but that was so... gruesome. And harsh. And unpleasant. I don't ever want to see anything like that again, but then I probably will. We're here to fight monsters. They don't really care about us, all they want is for us to be of some use fighting. But I won't be good at fighting, doesn't that mean I'll die? I don't want to die yet. I only just turned thirteen recen-

The sound of Brent's voice broke through her thoughts, and she turned her head to see him... was he smiling? Really? Smiling? After all had happened? Taking a fork from nearby and placing it on her plate, she lifted it and walked over to where Brent stood. She gave him a very weak smile and a nod in return, her face paler than usual. Not all of the mess had been cleared up yet, but there were still tables that didn't have any vomit or mess on or near them. She didn't move towards any of them, letting Brent choose.

---

@ERode

---

---

---

---

"Fuck..."

Familiarity. It surprised him how much he still hated this sensation, hated magic. He was walking along a barren wasteland, a place he had visited once before. It was shrouded in darkness, with no sun or moon or stars above him, yet he could see every detail of the landscape. Instinctively he knew what it was, even without having been there in his life. The ocean. Or rather, the ocean floor, devoid of any water, or life. Still, it wasn't as if it had vanished entirely. He felt it, above him, a vast and terrifying ocean in the sky, ever present but out of sight. However, it was not the sea but rather something incomprehensible, and powerful beyond imagination.

From above, a bit of that ocean dripped into him, joining with the current of his existence. Not as if power had slipped into him, but as if Lawrence had joined more of himself. It was a weak current that flowed through him, especially compared to the power that was forever out of reach, and having to deal with an even larger volume of it disgusted him beyond compare.

Before he could ponder if it was the magic or his being that disgusted him, Lawrence was pulled back into reality once more.

"... Off"

As he snapped back to the current situation, watching the Eyepion freak out at his assault on its' mind, Lawrence resumed his battle against his own mind. Trying to keep up the negativity that was threatening to overwhelm him, although that couldn't prevent a small twinge of satisfaction from seeping through as the Eyepion crushed that annoying witch. As it bolted away he began working to reason away his emotions once more. It would soon run out of the range of his power, so he didn't bother dropping it. Instead he focused on moving towards the fallen Christmas, his number one priority so far in the battle.

Still, pushing bad thoughts out of one's mind was much harder than letting them settle in. The Eyepion was currently heading towards Blue team. What if his actions led to one of their deaths? What if these dolls managed to kill one of his team members while he had been focusing on the wrong target? As he drew closer to Christmas, unloaded shotgun feeling as if it weighed far more than it did at the beginning of the battle, the severity of the dolls as a threat became even more apparent. The glitter bombs from earlier had shredded everybody badly enough, this netting though had absolutely mutilated the boy's leg. As he saw the mess of blood he was gripped by the overwhelming feeling that things were spiraling out of control.

"You have power over your mind - not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength."

As the words entered his mind, a fortress of reason to combat his overwhelming loathing and panic, he felt the Eyepion hit the edge of his range, and he switched off his power once more. Right now, he didn't need it. In front of him was an injured Christmas, and it was time to let his experience helping the wounded in previous battles find some use. Knowledge was strength. Experience was strength. Magic was a crutch, and he cast it aside for a moment to be of some practical use once more.

Kneeling beside the boy, he didn't fight the relief that a cursory examination of the limb revealed that the femoral artery had not been severed yet, although it was hard to tell with so much blood. Taking his sleeve between his teeth- and grateful the structure had already been weakened by the previous blades of glitter- he tore the right sleeve on his shirt and got to work wrapping it around the boy's leg, just above where the netting ended.

"No time to be gentle, you can bitch at me later."

Was his only warning before tightening it into a makeshift tourniquet. He felt a bit of guilt at hurting the kid, but he'd have to get used to these unusual sensations until he was back in control of his emotions. A tourniquet wasn't exactly the best solution to the problem at hand, especially if they were going to stay in the field for an extended period of time, but there was a lot of blood loss even with the femoral artery intact. That, and he didn't have time to try and remove the mess of netting from the boy's leg. A battlefield was filled with quick and messy solutions, living injured was a lot better than dying in perfect health.

He hoped Christmas could appreciate that as he ripped off his second sleeve and began tying it around the leg as well, for extra security.

---

---

Determination and Devotion moved in tandem, though the former hung back as Devotion stepped close enough to the doll to turn the ground to sludge just as the monster neared the two girls. The doll's weight pushed it further into the sludge and it flailed angrily at the viscous liquid the ground had turned into. To no avail.

Nestled up to its knees in Devotion's sludge, the doll was unable to retaliate as Kusari's rear attack cut a clean swath across the diagonal of its back, spilling the white blood everywhere. Spasming erratically in response to the attack, the doll tried signaling for help from the others, only to receive no response. Then Determination was in front of it, sinking into the sludge as well. The same slash that had obliterated the shadow puppet before now caught on the epaulet of Determination's new armor and the puppet put a fist through the doll's left eye with ease, embedding its arm deep into the doll's head. A sharp swing outwards with that same arm tore the head apart and the doll collapsed to the ground, dead.

Orders completed and target eliminated, the puppets took on a neutral stance, with Determination sliding sharply out of the ground the moment Devotion's power vanished.

Nearby, Hazel had already obliterated her target, clothes covered in the white fluid that spewed from the dead chainsaw doll.

The last doll struggled beneath Sander's grip as he pounded on its reinforced arm joint. Without a leg and unable to pull Sander with the wires on its right hand, the doll was fighting a losing battle.

As the joint cracked and weakened under the assault, the doll's mouth chattered loudly. On the fourth punch, its left arm broke apart at the shoulder, splashing Sander with white blood. The right arm continued pulling on the blood mage, but by now the conclusion of the fight was foregone.

Several meters away, Christmas's broken screams rang out as Lawrence tightened the tourniquet on his leg. Pale from blood loss and dazed from pain, he mumbled nonsense in response to Lawrence and closed his eyes, breaths shallow. The faint pulse of his power in effect drifted through him as the light cuts on Lawrence's hands healed slowly from contact with the healer's blood. Despite that, the glassy mist shimmering around Sander and Christmas did not extend to Lawrence.

Moving further from red team, the eye scorpion, still unable to see but no longer burdened by the effects of Lawrence's magic, spun around in several tight circles, trying to reorient itself. Before long, it shuffled towards the nearest batch of blurry movements, hunting for targets. By now, it had wandered to blue team.

---

The golem let Myla set up another series of cutting lines, showing little reaction as the attacks dissipated against its body. With what remained of her strength, Myla stepped back, keeping an eye on the rim of the pit as she slowly moved Genevieve away first before coming back for Eric. Ethan struggled to his feet as she worked, wobbling as he gathered his magic again. The glow was returning to his body, albeit slowly, but even the inexperienced could tell he was in no condition to fight much longer.

"How the fuck is it still alive?" he gasped as Myla took up position beside him.

"...It might be one of DC's," she muttered back, weakly drawing more neon lines in the air with tired swipes of her arm. Myla had stopped dancing, the thinness of her current lines almost laughably weak in damaging power.

"Fuck. ...I'll just be glad it doesn't seem as smart as the other ones we've seen," Ethan replied, trying to force an orb of light into sputtering existence.

"We can't damage it like this. Without Shane we don't have enough firepower to take on one of DC's. Maybe we should ask--"

"Can't risk the new kids against something we can't figure out. If it's happy standing in the hole for now, we'll take it as a fucking blessing and use the time to recover."

He shouted at the air, even though he was perfectly aware the ankle cuff could pick up his speech at normal volume. "I know you're paying attention, Director Zhang. This is a potential category three mixed in with the one's. You need to withdraw the new kids and send--"

The cuff on Ethan's left ankle beeped loudly in interruption.

"Commander Kardos speaking. Threat level updated. No changes in orders."

"All due respect, sir, are you insane? They can't fight this. Not now!"

"Do not question my authority again, Sonnino. No changes in orders. That is final."

"...Do we at least get backup? Or--wait, don't tell me--the new kids are the backup," Ethan laughed bitterly as he said it.

The cuff beeped into silence as confirmation.

Ethan had to resist the urge to throw an unwavering "Fuck you" at the anklet. Myla spoke up before he could dwell on his frustration for long.

"What's the plan if it acts before the rest of them are finished? I think we've already lost a few of the new kids."

Ethan turned around sharply at that observation, catching sight of several still, bloody bodies in the distance. His jaw clenched until he was afraid he had locked it into position, but he refused to give in to that hot-headed anger that had cost Decker his life and nearly cost them Shane as well. "If it moves," he said slowly, measuring each word, "we tell the new kids to run. Then we throw everything we've got at it and just fucking pray."

Myla's grim face matched Ethan's as the words sank in. If they needed to stall for escape time in their current states, they would likely be the first ones to die.

"...What about Gen and Eric?" she asked quietly.

Ethan looked back at the unconscious forms of his teammates, recalling briefly a moment when there were far more than just the four of them. No one had ever been under any illusions about their fates.

"They knew the risks."

---

---

---

As the custodian worked, the students watched warily, most of them holding their tongues while others whispered to nearby friends. Dissenting opinions weren't welcome at USARILN East when it came to management of less stable students and most were grateful the terrified staff hadn't accidentally called for summary execution of everyone in earshot of the cuffs. The damn things could pick up sounds from as far as 50 meters away for the express purpose of surveillance, though mass execution was a convenient bonus.

Jason had gone back to his desk in the dining hall lobby, pale but composed--the mark of someone who had seen the event enough times to push reactions aside and focus on doing his job first. There would be time enough to submit a report to Director Zhang later. More importantly, he had to maintain the veneer of order in a place bustling with hair-trigger subnaturals.

"Scared shitless" had become more natural than breathing for most of the staff in USARILN East, and they hid this to varying degrees. Jason adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down his nose again from the cold sweat breaking out across his face. He fumbled with the computer terminal attached to the lobby desk, fingers shaking as he double-clicked on the .pdf file for a standard incident report. The commotion had emptied out much of the first floor and the time of night meant there were few people who would be entering the dining hall.

It was just as he settled into the mindless groove of typing up the report that he realized someone had arrived and was standing in front of the desk. The fearful look on his two coworkers' faces meant two things: a subnatural about to lose their shit or the Director herself. Eddie and Gerald were both frozen in the middle of their hushed conversation, eyes fixed on the arrival.

Of course it had to be the Director.

"Mr. Moreau," she nodded at him, her usually immaculate business suit stained by small droplets of blood on her shoulder and upper arm, the specks dark red against the light grey wool. She sounded softer, lacking the usual projection in her voice, and Jason sure as hell wasn't about to ask her what had happened. "Mr. Crowther. Mr. Fraley," she greeted each of his coworkers in turn, who both mumbled back a quick and stammered "Director."

"Uh--Director! Good evening," Jason stood up to greet her, the other two following suit.

"My card, Mr. Moreau," she tapped the card on the marble countertop again, and only then did Jason realize he had tuned out the sound the first time in his frazzled state of mind.

With rapid apologies and harried fumbling, he scanned her through, watching as she caught the bloodstains on the floor and the scent in the air. He half-expected her to produce a gun from somewhere in her suit and shoot him, ridiculous though the thought was.

Instead, her shoulders seemed to slump, ever so slightly.

Without a word to anyone, she ascended the flight of stairs just inside the left set of double glass doors, heading to the third floor, towards the bar in the back. The students in her way quickly made themselves scarce while everyone else froze in place until she was gone, as if they were afraid of drawing even an iota of her attention. For her part, the Director ignored them all equally.

---

---

---

The boy jogged up to Gregory, finally noticing that his victim had been scared out of the building. His parka rustled loudly with the crinkling of candy wrappers stashed somewhere deep in the pockets and his cold-flushed face grinned eagerly, the ruddy cheeks complimenting his emerald-green eyes.

"Did I scare you?" he asked, giddy with giggles. In true childish fashion, he didn't wait for an answer, rummaging around in his pockets for a piece of candy that he hadn't already eaten. His brow furrowed with irritation before finally settling with a relieved sigh. He pulled out a round candy the size of a quarter, wrapped in wax paper meticulously decorated with pastel-colored art of a little girl in a blue frock following a pink rabbit.

"Have a candy! They're caramel and super good. You can only get them from the stalls on Wednesdays--and I spend a bunch of my allowance on them. Oh, but Rosa told me not to ever buy it all out because the other students like them, too, so I always just buy 20 each week."

He stopped suddenly with a pout.

"But give me back the wrapper, okay? I like them most."

---

---

---

The bird head was finished. Cal's shadow slashed deeply through the head's long neck, severing the trachea and several arteries. The monster bled out within seconds, provoking an outraged and pained moan from the hippo head. The remainder's mourning cry resounded across the battlefield as the blood-drenched neck fell completely limp, dragging the head around in the dirt and leaving a blood trail like a morbid paintbrush. The main torso suddenly grew unsteady. It struggled to stay upright, swaying back and forth like it was only just learning to walk. It looked like it would topple over at any second. Despite the initial difficulties, the quadruped barely managed to stay on its feet. With the mobility problem mostly out of the way, the hippo head returned to its original objective: destroying the green-haired girl. With its main offensive weapon lying uselessly in the dirt, the quadruped went back to its more traditional way of attacking enemies. It released a grunt of exertion before lumbering backwards in order to try and flatten the mage with its feet. Its stomps became more frequent and heavy, though its poor balance became more apparent with every step it took.

Grant's projectile attack wouldn't succeed twice. A panicked yelp from the standing fishman drew the beetle man's attention to the incoming boulder. The armoured creature let out a thunderous bellow and threw its fist to the air, shattering the stone with one mighty blow. The debris rained harmlessly around the beetle man. It really meant business now. However, before the three monsters could begin their charge, the fishman that was still standing was struck down by Lily's transferred injuries. Blind and injured in almost all its limbs, the fishman collapsed. It could barely move, too affected by the pain and injuries to do any good. Completely useless. How were they meant to perform their coordinated attack now?

With a yell that seemed to portray a feeling of aggravation, the beetle man lifted the wounded fishman. Taking advantage of the yells and conversation from the students' trench in order to triangulate their position, the humanoid hurled the fishman with frightening strength and accuracy. The unfortunate creature had no time to take the situation in before it was soaring through the skies, frantically screaming and shooting scales in its terror. It missed Marcus and Lily by inches, toppling onto an exhausted Grant at the bottom of the trench. The fishman died upon impact. Once the dead weight was gotten rid of, the beetle man lifted the protesting other fish and began marching towards the three students.

The eye scorpion lumbered jerkily towards the bunched movements that were the blue team's skirmish. Due to its coffee-drenched eye, the monster could only catch blurred details of the raging battle; a dark shape, a bright orange blob sailing through the air from the dark shape's direction, and a clump of colour that was much larger and much closer than the former two. With nowhere else to go, it wandered towards the big clump. Its fellow monsters in this area sounded a lot more distressed than the others, perhaps it should assist. The scorpion pointed its eye to the sky once more, summoning the same glowing green circles from earlier.

Siena remained by the cover provided by the truck, searching through her Kindle for a suitable character. Thanks to all the other monsters being occupied with their own battles, Siena's casting would be uninterrupted.

---

---

The spaghetti monster that had devoured Zoe remained where it was, keeping its many noodle appendages close to its body and well out of reach from anymore of Savannah's explosions. The walls of the monster's stomach started to contract-- not enough to break bones, but enough to toss a salad while the gross smelling liquid inside started to irritate her skin on a more severe level. That was going to leave a bit of a rash for sure. Just when things didn't seem like they could get much worse, several finger-sized mouths started to reveal themselves within the inner stomach lining. Not quite big or strong enough to do any severe damage right away, and without any eyes to assist them with accuracy, they began to nibble and bite at whatever part of Zoe they could lock their little jaws on.

Angel's new scream sent her own spaghetti monster reeling backwards, crying out in pain. With the same pathetically sad feeling that always accompanies dropped food, the creature landed, spaghetti side down, onto the ground. Marinara splattered outwards across the dirt and grass. Its noodle body writhed uncomfortably with a gurgling sort of whimper. It seemed to be stuck, flopping around like a fish out of water.

For every noodle Chris severed, more seemed to appear. With the mighty dragon no longer offsetting its balance, the spaghetti monster returned to its original position and screeched louder than ever before. It pounded the ground angrily like a child throwing a tantrum. Before Chris could commence his charge, several noodles pludged into the earth, ripping out a large, car-sized chunk and throwing it at him.

Meanwhile, the four half-formed meatballs seemed to be pulsating. With each pulsation they grew bigger and bigger-- closer to their cow-sized predecessors. Their mouths neared their final form as far as wideness and teeth go. Without fully formed limbs, however, they were still stuck rocking and rolling around the ground behind the spaghetti monster that was fighting Chris.

Wouldn’t it have been for her rage-induced state, the Aberration who had been screaming about on the battlefield ever since the dreadful fight started would have been frightened by the sheer ferocity of her shrieks, and the fact it sent a barn-sized monster made of pasta reeling pitifully on the ground from the last sonic wave she produced out of wrath. And yet, she was there, contemplating the toppled-over saucer of spaghetti, a slight malicious grin escaping the corner of her mouth.

Angélique had thought about trying to scream this monstrosity to whatever kitchen it had been made of, see just how much the creature would be able to withstand, how much it would crawl and writhe in agony from her ear-splitting shouts. The very thought of inflicting so much pain to this god be damned creature was enough to send shivers of pleasure down her spine.

But her sadistic thoughts came to an end as she turned to investigate the source of a rather disturbing screech. Not too far away from her, where Christopher was fighting against another spaghetti monster, the creature seemed to no longer fool around as it dug its tentacles-limbs into the ground, producing a car-sized slab of earth from the soil and threw it with amazing strength at the Dragonling.

Angel’s face turned into a frown as she witnessed Dragon Boy’s stupidity at work. Having witnessed how fast he was earlier, she would’ve expected him to dodge the mound of rock being thrown at him. Instead of that, he charged in head first like a maddened beast against the chunk of earth. It was of no surprise the Canadian young woman witnessed the dragonling being knocked all the way back to the trucks from the sheer amount of force applied in this collision.

Just what the fuck is wrong with this idiot? Is he trying to get himself fucking killed or something? As if we aren’t already deep enough in this shit.

There was however one good thing that came with this outcome. While she was indeed the only one on the frontline, and all the others were back at the trucks, that meant she had the field clear. As much as she wanted to make the noodly mess on the floor suffer for killing Alexis, the priority of her remaining living partners ringed into her skull; the scream of denial she had just used to topple the monster was to fight the selfish voices plaguing her mind.

You…

Angélique started sprinting towards the bloody trail left by the injured Chris in dragon form. After watching one of her best warriors getting knocked over because of his own stupidity, the black-haired girl felt a mix of anger and worry. She couldn’t afford to lose another ally in this fight, she had already lost too many. But on the other end, her frustration was ever growing, from how this battle was turning out, and how her friends were proving to be less than useful so far. Granted, most were only teenagers here, and had no experience with their powers and fighting monsters. Even to herself, Angel found it surprising how she could still stand and fight. She was wrecked with grief, anger, fear, hate, sorrow and despair, yet she was still standing and running. Why? Was it because she was always stubborn? Or was it because of self-preserving instincts? She couldn’t tell. It was just there, this overwhelming feeling of fighting to survive and protect the others around her.

...will…

Reaching the trail of dirt Chris made in his tumbling blaze, Angel turned to the spaghetti monster and its small commando of newly-formed meatballs. It was hard enough to get rid of three, four would prove to be fatal combined with the other monsters. Realizing from her past recent experiences that the further she was from her target, the lesser the effect was. If she wanted to affect both the large pasta creature and its meaty underlings, she’d have to stand about only a few meters away from the monster

...all…

With that in mind, the young Aberration positioned herself dangerously close to the spaghetti monster. Even though she feared for her safety, she believed in her frightening voice. Even if she was to get grabbed, if she could at least just let out one more scream and fuck with the creature’s mind just as she did to the other, she would gladly accept this sacrifice if her comrades would take the opportunity to strike.

“DIE!” Angel screamed at the top of her lungs, letting forth another wrath-induced shriek wash over the five creatures standing in front of her.

Gregory Irving

---

---

Noting the odd noise that accompanied each of the child's movements, Gregory quirked a brow as he looked downwards at the kid. A few moments passed, during which the kid began to search for something, before he sighed quietly under his breath. "Sorta," he admitted with a slight shrug despite the kid paying him little attention as he wondered who the hell ha- Actually that line of thought was probably just going to be depressing considering the location.

Focusing on the candy that the kid offered him, Gregory tilted his head a bit before he reached out to take it. "Thanks? You give some to everyone you scare?" While normally he would have just torn the caramel free, he instead listened to the kid and gingerly unwrapped it. It was a bit silly to him, but hell it was a child doing something childish. He could go along with that at the least.

"Rosa said candy tastes better after a good scare," he held out his hand for the wrapper, smiling broadly.

"Of course she did," he murmured as he looked over the candy wrapper, noting the details, before he placed it into the kid's hand. "So..." Trailing off, he blinked a few times, pursed his lips, and then continued with a shrug. "I'm Gregory, or Greg if you want. What's your name?"

"Hector!" the boy replied, tucking the candy wrapper back into his pocket. "And that's Miranda!" He pointed proudly at the three-story lamprey woman peeking out from behind the building. "She's shy."

Following the finger to the massive being, he seemed a bit bewildered at Miranda's behavior. It was hard to wrap his head around something with that appearance acting... well, shy, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh and then rubbed at his temple. "Right, I can roll with this," he muttered under his breath before he turned his attention back to Hector. "Better than enthusastic with her size," he remarked as he stepped further from the building's entrance. "So how'd the two of you meet? And do you care for a walk?"

"Miranda?" Hector cocked his head at Gregory curiously. "I didn't meet Miranda. I made her." He turned back to beckon the creature forward and it slid towards him at a glacial pace. Fully revealed, its dress-like outer layer seemed to be a part of its body and instead of walking, it smoothly glided across the ground. "Let's go for a walk, Miranda!"

---

"Didn't want to assume." He looked up as it slid out from behind the building, and noted its ability to drift almost soundlessly towards them; guess that explained why he hadn't noticed it approaching the building at all. Looking back at the guards for a moment, when it didn't seem like there would be any trouble, he took up the lead at a somewhat sedate pace, with the occasional glance towards Miranda. "You scare all the new people that move in?"

"Just the ones who look funny," Hector pointed at Gregory's hair, "like that." He stared at the long, golden tresses with awe as they walked. "How did you make it so long? Even the girls I know don't have it that long."

Leave it up to a kid to point out his hair when they were in a place filled with superpowers of all kinds he supposed with a small grin. "By taking good care of it for a long time. Mostly genetics though," he added after a moment before he looked at Hector and wondered if he knew what the word meant. Running a finger down the back, he hooked the hair tie and pulled it free, shaking his head a bit to let the hair fall freely.

Hector's grin widened at the sight and he turned to Miranda, cupping his chin with a hand thoughtfully before he turned back to Gregory. "I'll put it on Miranda!" True to his word, his eyes flickered into a jet black that encompassed both iris and sclera just as Miranda's stringy, white hair morphed into Gregory's luscious locks, on a much larger scale. "What do you think?"

Curious to see how Hector's powers worked, he nodded encouragingly in response. The pair of black pools surprised him for a moment, but the sight of a very familiar hairstyle appearing atop Miranda's near featureless face was far more distracting. He rubbed his chin for a few moments, but shook his head in the end. "Think it looks better on me. Seems... a bit out of the place on her, but huh. That was quicker than expected. You can change things about Miranda that quickly?"

Hector continued adjusting the hair's sheen and volume for a bit longer before answering. "Some things. Not all. But I like your hair! If you ever die, make sure you give me the hair, okay?"

"I'll note that in my will," Greogy muttered dryly as he watched the hair shimmer in the moonlight with each of Hector's adjustments. Raising his arms skyward, he stretched out his body and groaned when he felt something pop. It was a slight comfort, and he'd take any in this place where death wasn't something a child blinked at. Then again, they were supposed to be pretty malleab- Ignoring that line of thought, he came to a halt and took a look at their surroundings. "Candy, scaring the funny looking ones, hanging out with Miranda. What else you do Hector?"

"I clean up corpses," Hector was staring at Miranda with a pout as he answered, wondering if she needed a better dress to match her new hairstyle. "I don't know dresses, though," he continued the rest of the thought out loud, the dress-sheath on Miranda's body morphing into chimeras of gowns, shifts, and evening slips at random.

"Well that explains things..." A foot tapped idly as he watched the kid try to piece together more suitable attire for Miranda. It was interesting to see how the material seemed to shift and morph rapidly at his whim, but the results seemed rather jarring. That probably had something to do with the rest of Miranda's appearance though... "Can't help you with that. I just make'em. Rosa might?"

---

Hector laughed audibly at that. "So what's your power?" he asked Gregory, looking the taller boy up and down as if he could find the answer that way.

"Or not." With a shrug, he continued to look around aimlessly before Hector's question gave him pause. The path was fairly clean swept, and he turned to one of the nearby trees before judging it too much effort to break a branch off. "I touch things, and then launch them. Doesn't look like there's anything good to demonstrate with around though..." More importantly though was he didn't even really know how this cuff worked. Was his ability completely suppressed?

Hector pulled a quarter out of his pants pocket and handed it to Gregory. "I want some of your hair as payback."

Looking at the quarter, Greogry tilted his head slightly before nodding a few times. He should be able to make this work... "Not going to make a voodoo doll or something are ya?" Despite the question, he reached out to take the offerred quarter anyways.

"I feed everything to Miranda," Hector deposited the quarter into Gregory's open hand, stepping backwards in anticipation of the display.

"That doesn't give her the urge to eat everything else I hope." Holding the quarter so its edge lined up perpendicular to a tree trunk nearby, Gregory breathed in slowly and visualized the magic circle springing forth from his hand to suspend the quarter. When he opened his eyes and saw the lines drawing themselves slowly, their glow weak, he scowled at the cuff and closed his eyes again to focus.

Feeling the metal was no longer against his skin, Gregory opened his eyes and huffed in annoyance. Yeah the quarter was floating now, but that part wasn't even supposed to require any effort on his part. Crouching to touch the ground, he traced a circle several times ontop the paved path. This part at least came smoothly and he sighed as the path's glow intensified, layered on top of one another. With a small flourish, he broke the circle and ended the path pointed straight at the aimed tree and the coin began to whirl about beside him, mirroring the drawn path and building up speed. A moment later and it flew from the loop where physics took over instantly as the air caused the coin to flip and tumble through the air. It struck the bark with a small crack, but rather than embed itself edge first in, it seemed to only make a small imprint. "Well that's disappointing..." he mumbled as he stood up and walked over to get a better look.

"That's so cool!" Hector ran to the mark on the tree, examining it with both fingers and eyes. Miranda had slowly caught up to them by now, her size making up for the slower speed. As it reached Hector, he extended an arm, eyes glossy darkness once more. The creature shook before folding in on itself, body collapsing down until it was the same size as Gregory. And then the same shape. With the same clothing. What remained consistent, however, was its mouth-face, which turned to Gregory curiously while Hector scratched at the tree crack with a finger. Finally bored, the brown-haired boy turned around, grinning at his latest trick.

"It's cool! You're cool!" he repeated, "So I made Miranda look like you, too! Oh, but I can't change her face. Or the way she walks." As if to demonstrate, Miranda slid slowly across the floor to Hector's side without taking any steps, looking uncannily like a video game glitch. "I usually put a dress on her, but that would look weird on--" he stopped, eyes wide as he considered the idea of Gregory in a dress. It never came to fruition as Hector bent over, shaking with laughter.

Pausing, he was a bit caught off guard by Hector's enthusiam and Gregory couldn't help but rub at the back of his head, slightly embarrassed at the difference in their reactions. Inwardly, he did note that the coin seemed to have been launched slightly slower? It was hard to actually tell given the conditions, but running a finger on the small crack gave him that impression. When he looked away and saw Miranda's new form, the flinch was practically impossible to stop. The uncanny valley effect was far too real for him when it was something wearing everything except for his own face.

Personal discomfort aside, he couldn't deny that it was a neat and cool trick though. If he saw it from behind, he probably would have thought he just met his own twin or something; ignoring the odd way it moved about, that was. He quirked a brow as the thought was apparently too funny for Hector to even finish his sentence, and just shook his head as the boy's laughter rang out into the night. "Been there. Done that." Smiling afterwards, the expression fades for a moment as a chilly wind blew past them. "Think that's enough of a walk for me," he said with a shiver as he rubbed at his arms.

---

"No way, let's keep going," Hector didn't seem to acknowledge even the possibility of stopping as he continued forward, past the main cluster of buildings and towards the campus arboretum. "Only Cameron played with me before. And he died. So I need to find a new playmate. Or I'd get bored."

Miranda grabbed Gregory's arm, its grip far stronger than its form indicated.

"Play with me, Gregory."

"It's alre- Actually what time is it?" The last bit was muttered mostly to himself as he looked towards his watch. Looking back up, Hector hadn't even slowed down in the slightest and the distance between them was only growing. He could still hear what the other boy was talking about, grim as it was, and he wasn't about to just walk out on some k- Although Miranda's sudden grip on his arm made it seem like he suddenly had a lot less choice in the matter.

Frowning at the strength coming from the thin limb, resistance was a fleeting thought in the face of something that could grow large enough to squash him like a bug. Nodding at Miranda, he began to follow after Hector once more. "Right... what did you have in mind?"

"Hide and seek in the arboretum!" Hector called out, heading into the shadows of the trees. "Miranda will hunt you. If you can't find me before she catches you, she'll eat you!"

With that, Hector disappeared behind a tree, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot fading as he walked further into the man-made forest. Miranda held onto Gregory's arm for a long ten seconds before letting go. Then she hissed, the sound copying itself in broken cadence like twenty snakes hissing out of beat. And it was, without a doubt, the signal to begin.

'Fuck this insane place...' A pointless thought, but one that nonetheless played through Gregory's mind a few times as his stomach sank. Rationally, they wouldn't let someone this dangerous wander around right? Well unless he was more useful than the dam- Useless thoughts. He breathed deeply to try and refocus himself, and looked in the direction where Hector had walked off towards.

The eerie silence did little to help his nerves as the grip around his arm remained vise-like, and when she released him he didn't need any other signal to bolt. The hiss that intensified from behind him would have fit perfectly in a horror movie, and he could not help but mutter, "10/10. Best start to a year." Raising both arms to shield his head as he broke into the treeline, Gregory stopped instantly and looked back to check on Miranda. Dependant on her progress, he'd spend some time to try and pick up any signs of where Hector might have gone.

A thought came to him as he did so and for a moment, he truly considered sinking deeper and trying to force the progression of his Stigma. The maddening swirl of emotions did seem to bring some twisted sort of clarity with it... but he dismissed the notion. Miranda was right behind him, and it'd probably incapacitate him for too long.

Tsk.

After all that time he spent trying to get Sophia to relax and speak more, the incident that occurred simply wiped away all that progress. She was even paler than before now, and had definitely clammed up. Ah, what a difficult situation. What words should he use here to comfort her? How should he even help her relax to begin with? Or is this more of an event in which he lets her calm down on her own?

He turned his gaze from one table to another, picking out where vomit and blood and spilled food wasn’t present, before breathing in deeply. No matter where they went, the smell of charred flesh would stick around a bit longer in here, wouldn’t it? And even if those hardworking janitors emptied an entire bottle of Febreeze, that experience would still remain.

Brent turned to Sophia. Then he caught a familiar, domineering individual walking past the scene of the ‘carnage’, taking the stairs up.

From there, the decision was much too easy to make.

“How about we go up a floor or two then,” he said, tilting his head towards the stairs. Her knees were probably weak, and holding up a plate laden with artfully-placed greens was probably doing work on her singular arm. Gesturing towards the crook of his own left arm, Brent said, “I can carry that for you too, if you want.”

He was never a waiter himself, but just two plates in one arm shouldn’t be hard at all, right?

Regardless of whether or not Sophia accepted his offer, Brent soon headed up the floors, taking careful steps to ensure that the plates didn’t fall out of his arm and make him a gallant fool. Ascending two more floors to reach the third, he stepped out to something that looked practically identical to the floor that they had just been at a couple minutes before. Still no guards, but also less people, and a much more…restrained atmosphere.

In the far corner, their glorious Director Zhang was drinking alone, and clearly, no one wanted to deal with an intoxicated iron maiden. Hell, even Brent didn’t really want to deal with her, but…

He wasn’t going to run away and hole up in a corner either, not after going up this far. Not when she wasn’t even the one that shot him. Not when her strength was something admirable and something that he wanted. Brent turned to Sophia, trying to gauge that girl’s own emotional state, before deciding that it didn’t matter. Zhang was talking on the phone, and all things considered, the bar in a public place. And if they were in an institution where it was perfectly fine to fuck over young kids, he doubted that the dashing, gray-haired bartender would ask for their ID.

And the drinks bar was completely empty too. They had the pick of any seat they wanted!

Brent closed his eyes, swallowed his apprehension, and took his steps at a steady, fast pace. This was different from chatting up the strongest Arbiter while he played Angry Birds. Different from exchanging greetings with a shark-teethed mummy. Different from discussing depressing topics with someone who totally didn’t want to. This was him saying ‘hi’ to the same person who executed a soldier and who could execute everyone in this room.

But, regardless, Brent took a seat by the Director, smiled naturally at ‘Steven’, and said, placing his mountain of meats on the counter, “Bourbon. On the rocks.”

Literally the only ‘adult’ drink he knew the name of. Never mind that wine was better with meat.

“Sophia, you want anything?”
@VampireOracle
@January

---

---

As Zoe's hands met the surface, she knew she didn't have enough power to break through quickly enough, that she wasn't realistically making it out like this - but she knew there was nothing she could do but try. And then for a brief moment, not even a second, her mind was somewhere else.

---

She was standing on the surface of a completely calm ocean. It was deep, powerful, and completely unknowable, but somehow she almost felt connected to it. She knelt down and placed her palm on the surface, she felt a little of that power starting to move towards her. It was meant for her somehow, born from her refusal to die even when things were completely hopeless.

But something in it changed, just as it reached her. It was touched by something dark, something wrong, just as the power spread through her.

The power was tainted - and so was she.

---

Suddenly she was in the same place she had been before, never really having left, standing with her hands on the surface of the stomach. Slightly bewildered, she was caught off guard as the walls of the creature's stomach contracted. Losing her balance as a result, she found herself stumbling back a few steps before falling as she regained her bearings.

At the same time, she could feel the acid's effects getting a lot worse to the point where it was really difficult to ignore, although scratching at it would no doubt just make the problem worse to deal with. It was bad enough on the surface without her risking breaking the skin. More worryingly, it meant the creature was probably starting full-on digestion. All too quickly, she was running out of time.

Oh, and the mouths. Apparently the thing had noticed she was alive, because she didn't think things usually had mouths in their stomachs. Still, Zoe couldn't let that stop her. She could feel the newfound power inside her, and just let it flow to her hands. With a glance, she saw that where before there were thin veins, they were now wrapped in thick lines of black that almost resembled tattoos - although they seemed to shift and move around, indicating that they weren't anything nearly so normal.

Struggling to her feet, she charged once more at the wall, grasping onto it and deciding to see what her new power could do. It took her by surprise, however, when a thick, black mist rose almost as soon as her hands made contact. The creature's flesh rotted so quickly it was almost melting in her grasp. For a moment, she tried to spread this new power further, but it wouldn't go beyond where her hands were touching - apparently it needed skin contact to work.

Technically, she supposed that meant it'd work better if she wasn't wearing clothes, but she'd save that one for a last resort. As much as anything, it'd take a whole lot of explaining. At least she didn't have sleeves most of the time, so that was helpful - but she'd probably need to think about her choices at some point.

Trying her hardest to ignore the biting of the mouths, she drove the right side of her body into the wall, pushing her whole right arm against it - even letting the power spread through the side of her face just for what little contact she was making there. She figured tearing its stomach open would do a hell of a lot of damage to the creature, if not killing it. With her left arm, she continued to launch punches into it. Partly for whatever damage she could do there, and partly because it made her feel better the more the thing was hurting she, wanted to hurt, wanted to do some damage, wanted to make the thing regret attacking her. Or maybe her Stigma did, she couldn't tell at this point.

Of course, while she was in a pretty good position to do damage, she knew she was also pressed up against the wall, so she couldn't help but worry about the mouths that had started appearing. Seemed like that was just how this new ability would have to work, though, and it was her only chance at a way out. It was frightening, but whatever happened she'd just have to deal with.

---

---

---

---

It worked! It freaking worked! And it was a damn good thing, too. Back on her feet, Cal's own movements almost matched the monster's in clumsiness as her leg throbbed with pain. She placed the remainder of her sword between her teeth and ripped a sleeve off of her shirt, tightly wrapping it around the deep cut. It seemed like a futile effort, but she tried to push past it.

In an attempt to occupy her thoughts, she remembered she hadn't checked to see how her teammates were doing. As she turned to look, she grimaced and hunched her shoulders as a fishman sailed through the air and into a trench. She spotted Marcus with his head over the edge, firing off a few rounds, before ducking back down. Hopefully that hadn't landed on anyone.

Beyond them, she spotted Siena standing by the trucks and shuffling through her digital book thing. What was she doing back there? Hadn't she picked someone to be yet? Before she could give Siena the benefit of the doubt, the eye scorpion entered her plain of vision.

As if we didn't have our hands full already, Cal inwardly sighed. At least the squirrel things were all gone-- presumably dead. Meanwhile, the eye scorpion was heading towards the others. A way to stop it... could she find a way? She continued stumbling backwards with grit teeth as the enraged and light-headed quadruped continued trying to smash her with it's massive trunk legs. Maybe her body was durable enough to survive that kind of pummeling, but she didn't want to find out. Suddenly, the eye monster stopped and began to channel a green beam up into the sky-- creating the same big green circle she'd seen earlier.

That's it!

Cal darted out from underneath the monster's legs and took off running. Well... running as best she could with the shooting pain that raced through her leg with every step. She briefly considered shouting to Lily, but she didn't much feel like trying to do anything more than what she was doing now. Besides, she felt bad for even considering asking Lily. She wouldn't wish this on anyone. Didn't she hear something about red team having a healer? She tried to shake the thoughts away. There wasn't time. She needed to focus.

As she approached the eye scorpion, she tried to envision what she wanted to happen. Envision yourself making the shot and you're more likely to make it. Old basketball wisdom, but perhaps it could be applied here?

Her main goal was not to slow down. She didn't know what that green beam would do to her if she attempted to jump through it and, confident though she was, she didn't anticipate the likelihood of her being able to jump over and safely past it. Not with this leg. Instead, she planned to drive her leftover sword into the side of the eye scorpion. Hopefully that would interrupt the cast and allow her to safely roll over it. Then she could keep moving and hopefully the thing would fall victim to the raging quadruped behind her. Boom-- eye scorpion pancake.

As for what she would do after that... keep running? Shit-- she hadn't thought that far ahead....