---

---

Having managed to get through her lunch without stabbing anyone - something which she was more than thankful for - Zoe had been fairly quick to return to the classroom. It wasn't like there was much for her to do with her time after all. As the others returned, she looked them over, raising an eyebrow as she took in the fairly noticeable decrease in numbers. She was actually kind of concerned at the realisation, seeing as one of them had already disappeared earlier; if they kept losing people at this rate it might happen to someone she actually cared about.

Well, that was unfair. She cared about all of her classmates' safety to a certain extent despite not being on the best of terms with a few of them - hence why she'd spent her lunchtime by herself in the first place. But even if she didn't have a high opinion of the whole facility, it seemed strange that this many people would go missing so suddenly.

Suspicion was the primary expression on her face, then, as Fred returned to the classroom. She barely even glanced at the elective sheet, scribbling down the first order she could be bothered coming up with before once again glaring at the staff mage.



Her expression became somewhat less hostile once the game had been explained to them. At least this one wasn't an actual disappearance. Just a staff-permitted kidnapping. Actually, on second thoughts that didn't sound great either. With a sigh of irritation, Zoe decided she was going to start sleeping with her knife next to her bed. Or under her pillow. Maybe just in her hand, to be safe.

Still, the prospect of this 'game' sounded kind of fun to her. Although at the same time, fun or not it didn't really play to her strengths at all. Out of everyone she knew of, her ability had to be one of the worst in this situation. To even use it, she'd have to get close enough for them to take a tag, and the non-lethal thing meant she'd have to really think about what she was doing.

Of course, there was nothing she could do but try. After all, she had a team to look out for, and as long as she didn't get carried away there was no reason her ability would have to count as lethal. Besides, she had to put her money where her mouth was at some point, even if it wasn't in the best of conditions.

Speaking of teams, she noted who she'd be working with. It seemed like the challenge would rely on teamwork quite a bit, so it was important that she could at least work with them. Looking at the names, she had mixed feelings about the whole thing. She couldn't remember ever meeting their 'healer', but Lawrence was pretty cool at least. Hazel she didn't know either, and as for Allison...

Guess I'll have to try and smooth things over now. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Resigning herself to the fact that she might have to actually try and be diplomatic, Zoe then took the time to look at their opposition's names on the board. Only knew two of their powers from what she could recall, those being Brent and Savannah. The others were a mystery. Of course, the problem with that was that the other team would probably know what she did by the time their fight started. Had she actually told her team about the skin-contact thing? Hopefully not, but she couldn't quite remember.

As Fred walked out and the class started, she actually bothered to get up and grab a biology textbook, trying not to go too near the teacher in case she caught some sort of disease. Despite appearances, however, she wasn't actually doing it to be a good student. Instead, she spent her time studying the human body - mostly to figure out where would and wouldn't be classed as 'lethal damage' if she targeted it. Not that she had the time to get things completely certain, but by the end of the class she had a pretty good idea. As for chemistry, she returned to sitting staring at her desk for that period.

Once Fred told them they were free to leave, she headed out of class with her requisitions in tow and straight back to her dorm.

---

Zoe figured she had about twenty minutes to sort everything out. Knowing what the game was, she eventually decided not to take anything with her, but that didn't mean she got out of preparing.

Their first fight had reminded her that her limitations were a pain in the ass. She'd been lucky, but the fact was that she needed to think about being efficient eventually. Especially considering that there were other people counting on her whenever they had to go out. Even if this one was just a training exercise, didn't mean she could afford to start slacking, and limiting her attacking potential was a handicap she didn't need out there. So, it was time to face the music.

Facing the music in this case, much to her irritation, basically meant wearing less clothes.

While Zoe didn't exactly jump for joy at the prospect, the idea of getting her or someone else's ass kicked just because she was worried about people being creepy was even less fun. Besides, it wouldn't really bother her anyway considering there was a practical reason for it. Modesty had never really been her thing in the first place.

At the same time, she was really starting to dislike her limitations.

---

After finally tracking down a sports bra and running shorts that were admittedly about as close to underwear as you could get without actually being classed as underwear, Zoe had joined the rest of the group to be escorted to Ground Zero, looking like she wasn't the slightest bit bothered by having had to change in the first place.

She looked around the outpost, grabbing a cookie with a grin before turning her attention towards the monitor. From what Zoe could see they'd put at least a few of what seemed like the straight-up heavy hitters in the same fight. People like Chris once he transformed, or Callan, or the guy that went batshit crazy at the monster fight. It made sense to a certain degree for Zoe, at least in the 'making sure no-one kills each other by accident' kind of way. Seemed like this might be interesting.

Besides, Zoe was kind of looking forward to writing her review of their performances. Hopefully it really was anonymous though, because she wasn't exactly in the habit of pulling punches.

---

---

Guards walked up to him almost immediately after Sander had exited the dining hall and Christmas felt another shot of anxiety hit just as the previous stomach pains finally receded. Double whammy. His breathing ran ragged with nerves and fear, but beyond shaking visibly he didn’t protest when they hauled him out of his chair and grouped him with an unfamiliar girl.

The forced walk to the security outpost was mostly silent, affording him some time to consider every single way he was about to die. Had he done something wrong? Maybe they would kill him because he hadn’t cooperated with the doctors. But wouldn’t it make more sense for them to keep him alive and locked…up…

Please no. Please, please no.

He turned to look at the girl accompanying him, gentle face and mischievous eyes betraying no hint of fear. Maybe she didn’t know where they were going either? Or maybe she did and didn’t care? Christmas couldn’t bring himself to ask in the guards’ presence and settled on picking at the loose bandages on his right hand again. He had never been the type to test the waters in situations like these—or in general.

I don’t want to be locked up.

A worry he didn’t dare voice.

And one that was quickly put to rest when Daisy explained the game to him. It only vaguely made sense because he wasn’t paying attention through the sudden relief. When she let up on talking to watch the screens and repeatedly check her phone, he stared at some of the displays closest to the ground, watching the movements of various students going to and fro from various buildings, or talking with each other in lounges with lidded cups in hand.

A couple sat in a study lounge with their heads together, faces hidden in the camera’s high angle. The girl’s wavy, brown locks draped over her boyfriend’s right shoulder, her hand clasped in his while he caressed it with a thumb. They seemed to be enjoying the silence of each other’s company, though from the bird’s eye view, Christmas couldn’t quite be sure they weren’t talking. Just that they were still. Calm. Peaceful.

I miss that.

What aspect, though, he wouldn’t identify. He let that train of thought continue without him, watching instead another batch of screens displaying a curiously demolished city. Where was that? The map he had tried so hard to remember before only drew itself vaguely in his mind, with the dining hall and dorm building the only locations he could place. But even then he knew there hadn’t been any location like “ruined city” or “ravaged borough” marked on the map.

---

---

The various screens kept him busy and staring long enough that by the time he realized he had been mentally gone for several hours, the sky on several of the cameras was already starting to lose its daylight colors. He would have been surprised if he wasn’t already used to that. Staring at screens had always helped him tuck his mind away into daydreams and wishful thoughts—a habit he had developed to dull the boredom and solitude of being “grounded.” Now it had ascended to a mental reflex, and Christmas wondered if one day he’d run off in his own dreams and never bother coming back. Tempting and terrifying all at once.

The sudden movement of the guards pulled him back completely and Christmas managed a few vacant blinks as they took him and the other girl out of the room, escorting them towards that broken metropolis he had seen on the screens. Even as they approached, the jarring presence of a jagged sidewalk edge suddenly appearing beneath his feet where barren, broken dirt had been before was nothing short of surreal. For a second, he wondered if he was still daydreaming, but the nudge of a rifle barrel confirmed this was very much reality—or something like it.

It was just a game, right? But that reassurance didn’t help his renewed fear when they separated him and the blonde-haired girl (…I didn’t ask her name, he finally realized) and dragged him towards an open manhole, its cover nowhere to be found.

”Wh—” his shock translated into that single noise as they gestured at the wide iron rungs protruding from the smooth concrete of the sewer entrance’s shaft.

“Down,” was the order and he only hesitated a second before obeying. The rungs were spaced just far enough apart that he fumbled with his feet nearly every other step, occasionally almost losing his footing. Well before he reached the bottom, the overwhelming odor of rot, feces, and stagnant water wracked his lungs with coughs in an attempt to expel the foul air and stung his nose until tears welled up. He remained still on the step irons for a while, trying to stop his body from retching.

The air was already chilly in September, but even at the halfway point down, the further decrease in temperature covered his skin in goosebumps.

”Move!” the guard above him shouted, voice echoing around them.

He moved, breathing as little as possible with every step downwards and clutching the step irons even harder in an attempt to quell the shivering. The stench and chill only got worse and by the time he reached the bottom Christmas was ready to throw up his lunch and curl up in a corner for whatever measly warmth his body could provide. The manhole shaft had lowered him onto a narrow walkway (and not directly into sewage, luckily) that seemed to span the length of the large sewer pipe, but his nausea forced him to the ground for a short while, one hand against his mouth while the other braced against the floor.

Compromising in some small regard, the soldier gave him a few minutes to recover while checking his phone before pulling a small flashlight out from one of the uniform’s many pockets. Before long, though, Christmas was forced to move again, following behind the only source of light other than the dim column of evening sunlight petering down from the open manhole. His shaking hands patted the clammy cement wall for stability, small pangs of pain from his right palm completely overwhelmed by the drastic change in environment.

---

---

The guard’s flashlight was quite strong for its size, and in its bright beam he could make out the water-stained, circular walls and dark liquid several feet lower than the walkway. Shadows of service platforms and smaller, parallel piping on the walls and ceiling darted between short and long erratically as the light bounced with the escort’s movements. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the space, especially where Christmas followed the soldier onto rusty steps and steel catwalks connecting opposite walkways, the sound bouncing rapidly and shattering the eerie silence of the subterranean tunnel.

Finally, at a small juncture where a lower walkway ran around the perimeter of a square, four-walled room with passageways extending on every side, the two of them stopped. Christmas reluctantly stepped down the small set of stairs that connected the path they had used to the current room, and the tacky feeling of walking onto concrete layered in a thin covering of that murky liquid seeped into his every step. The guard handed Christmas the bright flashlight, a sharp ”Stay hidden,” the only order he received before the man deftly flicked on the mounted light of the assault rifle and turned away, leaving the boy down in the muck and grime.

The flashlight’s beam shook violently in Christmas’s hand as the echoes of the soldier’s footsteps finally faded. He strained his ear to listen for anything other than the thudding of his own heart and the irregular breaths his body forced him to take despite the pervading reek. Some small hope had whispered in his mind that someone would find him quickly and he wouldn’t need to be here long, but as the minutes ticked by with only silence as comfort, he could no longer hold back the rising panic.

He sat down on the steps leading up to an adjacent corridor, wrapping his arms tight around his stomach and fighting back the tears he already knew would spill out despite his best efforts.

The sounds of quiet sobbing soon rebounded faintly around the room.

---

---

---

This was ridiculous.

Sander leaned back, dread slowly settled in the pit of his stomach, as he processed the information. It happened all so fast. First it was the white-haired stranger in the hall with confusing words and a punch that were more rage than malice, then now this 'game'.

It was the Facility all over again.

”Pay attention”, followed by a snap of fingers.

The light was blinding. He cranked his head sideway, cold weight of the chains of his limbs, slick warmth of blood on his skin.

“Stay with me.”

He blinked the unpleasant memory away, forcing his gaze back on the board, though he had no such luck with his trains of thoughts. Even after Fredric had been replaced by some sickly man who carried the not-so-pleasant scent of rotten fruit, his head was still churning, doubt and fear and frustration bled into a potent mixture. At this point, the line between his own thoughts and those elicited by the Stigma was getting blurred. Had any thoughts his own to begin with?

He had nothing. He was nothing.

To think that he was more than his power. To hope that he could be.

Simply ridiculous.

He didn’t want to do this. Yet, at the same time, he did. It was a choice he couldn’t have made, and as pathetic as it was, parts of him was glad that choice had been taken away from him. Everything was better when they were mandatory right? That way, he could blame someone else for his own incompetence.

Zhange was right. There was never a monster. He was just a wimp who needed his choices made for him. He hid behind the blood high, because that was all he had. He couldn't face life on his own.

He sighed, burying his face in his hands, pressing cold fingers against his forehead. As if the simple gesture could push the sense back into his head. It didn’t work, but that was nothing new. The teacher droned on and on about subjects that was far beyond his understandings, so he decided to focus on something else. Anything at all, really, since he didn’t wish to drown any further in self-pity and regrets. The elective block form came to mind, so he grabbed the form and began reading through everything. There were 8 in total, all of them unremarkable to him. It had been nearly five years since, and he could hardly remember which electives he picked back then. Another quick look through the list, and Sander decided to pick P.E as his elective. Hopefully, they would let him use the track. As for the rest, he just numbered them in order from the top down, barely even stopped to think what the subject could possibly consist of.



With that done, he moved the sheet of paper to the edge of his desk, shoving it beneath the stack of paper and text books, content to just stared at his folded hard for the entirety of the lesson.

"Alright so, abilities--" Callan was interrupted by a loud beeping sound coming from everyone's cuffs, followed by the musically tenor voice of Mr. Francisco.

"Just to clarify! Due to the unique nature of his ability, Mr. Francis is exempt from being out as soon as he takes his flags off to transform. He may keep his flags on the ground, but the Scorgasms better make sure they protect it like a good dragon guards his golden hoard, because if the other team picks up all the pieces-- he's out!" A second beep signaled the end of his message.

Well, there was one question answered-- though it did present a different problem.

"You're Chris, right?" Callan asked, looking in his direction, "Are you transforming? Can you listen while you do it?"

Chris pondered at the thought of transforming, there was a short, few second pause. "Yes I'm Chris, I suppose, I can hear yes. Admittedly controlling it can be... compromising at times however." Chris responded. "So, whats your name before we get this started?" He asked.

Callan nodded. She wasn't sure if that was a yes or no, but she didn't want to spare the time to ask again. As long as he could listen while transforming, she wasn't really sure she cared about whether or not he transformed. There were pros and cons to both it seemed-- so she'd leave the decision up to him.

"I'm Callan. That's Siena and that's Kusari," she said, nodding to each of the other girls as she spoke.

Her mind ran through knots. In, out, through and through, different names cutting through the mess like heated blades. Siena considered the names that had been on the list before, realizing that three of the four on the other team she could identify the abilities of. The real unknown was Sander...the name didn't really tick any bells in terms of ability.

"Our abilities aside, what about the opponents?" The brunette mused. "I know Marcus can rewind, Grant can control inorganic matter, and Angel has a scream that can do some damage...but I don't know about Sander." Despite the imminent combat, Siena couldn't keep the curiosity from rising in her voice. While it was important to know for the sake of doing well in the combat exercises, that excuse paled in comparison to the heart of Siena's driving motivations. "If we want a real strategy, we have to know what they're capable of..."

So Angel was like Black Canary, huh? Callan glanced back over at The Abusement Park, staring at Sander as she listened to the others.

"I know that the kid you're referring to was able to punch into my rib cage in dragon form. For reference, that was the only factor in the fight that actually damaged that form, meaning that he is stronger then say a bullet or an incoming boulder." He replied as he had already begun to unbutton his jacket.

"Sander is only able to get that strong after drinking a lot of blood, and it's a temporary effect. They've likely given him a supply, and five minutes is more than enough time for him to drink it all. He'll be fast, so we need to try and stop him from rushing us and taking our flags right at the start." Kusari crossed her arms and grumbled to herself. She wasn't exactly thrilled to be fighting her roommate, but she didn't have much of a choice. However, there were a few other things adding stress to her life at the moment.

The first was the fact that she was on the same team as Callan. She wasn't the type to become flustered over someone she liked, but it'd be a lie to say that her mind was clear of any unnecessary thoughts. She was overly conscious of the fact that she was wearing plain clothing again, and she couldn't help but check her hair a few times. Quite vexing.

The second thing that was bothering her was Chris. The boy was nonchalantly undressing in front of them. She knew he had to do it to prevent his clothes from tearing apart, but did he need to do it so brazenly? Kusari let out a cough, and moved in front of Callan and Seina, so they didn't have to look at him. Of course that meant he was now in her eyesight, but she'd manage... She'd... Manage.

"So... As for our actual plan, I say we stay here and let them come to us. Chris's flags are vulnerable here, and staling out Sander's magic would be to our advantage. We could also send someone to look for Christmas or Lily but..." She glanced at her surroundings, she had no idea where to even start searching.

Callan eyed the cooler that had been provided to the other team-- that must be the blood Kusari was talking about. She winced, feeling a mixture of disgust and sympathy for the guy. Drinking blood? How awful. But.... She tore her eyes away just long enough to let her teammates know she was still listening. When she looked back, the brown haired boy's position still hadn't changed. Why wasn't he drinking it? Stupid question, but didn't he want to win? They'd be at a disadvantage if he didn't drink it... so why?

"Hmm...if he's strong and fast, the only one of us that can hold him off will probably be Callan or Chris...maybe both at worst..." The murmur was more for her own benefit, but it was the basis of a plan. Listening keenly to Kusari's suggestion, the brunette tapped a finger thoughtfully on her chin as she processed the information, realizing only then that the pale girl had moved between herself and Chris. 'Why...?' But she supposed it didn't matter all things considered. "But we have no guarantee that they'll all come to us." With a few flicks of her screen, grey eyes peered over a list she'd made of potential uses.

"I can track the healers down, but if they've been told about the point of this match, then I doubt they'll be very cooperative." Another flick to turn a page. "...unfortunately, I also have to ask...is anyone really willing to potentially fight and injure the other team? I....I'm not certain I am."

As Chris folded up his winter hoodie, He'd pick up a towel he brought. This time he was prepared. Chris took off his sweat pants, exposing his boxers and now white-t shirt before draping himself in a towel. Afterwards, Chris pulled out a piece of cloth and began to fiddle with it. "Before you ask, yes it's a part of my transformation, don't ask why I'm naked." Chris scowled before continuing. "I especially have no problems with hurting that Sander kid again, honestly though I am not too sure of my own ability of self control, but I'm confident enough to win this I suppose. If I get in the right mindset there shouldn't be any incidents...hopefully." Chris commented as he continued to fiddle with the cloth. "While I think my form has a good sense of smell, naturally being a beast of sorts, I can't abandon my flags without the huge risk of someone taking it. And giving the fact that we're dealing with someone like Sanders leaving them to you guys, no offense, might not be optimal."

Chris continued. "I'm going to start transforming in a moment, but I'll keep listening. I brought this gag so I can keep myself from screaming intensely in the pain." Then without another word, he would shove the cloth in his mouth, tying it around his neck so it would be a bit hard to remove. Then he'd get on his fours, his eyes shifting to a different tone as he had already activated the transformation. His body quickly began to quiver as his teeth bit down hard on the piece of cloth in his mouth. Eyes watering as he could feel his insides churning.

Hearing Chris's words, Callan stepped sideways past Kusari to address him-- instantly wishing she hadn't.

"Hold on, maybe-- WHOA!" her hand flew up to her face and she turned away. He really was naked! He had a towel on but-- still naked! Damn-- that was fast! "M-maybe you shouldn't transform after all!" she shouted louder than she needed to, an uncomfortable quiver to her voice, "I should be able to handle Sander, but Marcus can run right into your pile of flags, steal them all, and blink out instantly!" As concerning as that was, Callan was more worried about how unsure the guy seemed about his self control. 'Hopefully' was not a word she wanted to hear with regards to the safety of everyone else. This was supposed to be a game, not a fight to the death.

"It's just a game-- nobody should have to seriously hurt anybody. A dragon might be overkill... no offense."

Chris struggled to reach for his gag, removing it so he can speak with trembling speaks. "I can't turn back now anyway, besides I'm not good at much else, I'll think of something." Chris said in a stuttering voice before forcing the gag back into his mouth just as he was about to scream as his skin felt like it was being peeled off bone. His nails started to turn more narrow and his spine became more regid.

It was Callan's voice that rose alarms in the back of Siena's head. She sounded...uncomfortable? Cautiously peeking around Kusari to see what was wrong, Siena's mind stopped dead in its tracks for a brief instant. 'Wh-wh--?!'

Callan's arm shot out and grasped Siena's shoulder, spinning the girl around like a weather vain to face the other way. I guess with a power like that, you stop caring about privacy pretty quick.... she mused through the storm of sirens going off in her brain.

"Alright! Fine! That-- that's fine! Uh--" his voiced definitely sounded strained. She didn't want to make him talk anymore than he had to, "I'll just-- uh. I'll keep an eye out for you... i-in case you lose control." She cleared her throat and thoughts-- they needed to focus on the plan.

"So this Sander guy is pretty strong? Drinks blood to buff himself?" she fumbled for something else to talk about, her voice regained some of its lost confidence as she turned to Kusari, "Strong enough to take on a horse-sized dragon, but is that all he does?"

Kusari shook her head as Siena and Callan looked past her and saw Chris undressing. Oh well, she tried. She cracked a sinister grin when Callan asked her if there was anything else to Sander. "Besides him being nearly invulnerable if he drinks enough blood, there's a specific weakness he has. If things get bad I'll take advantage of it and put him out of commission." She looked across the field and saw that Sander hadn't begun to drink the blood yet. Maybe waiting wasn't a good idea after all.

She looked to Siena. "I don't know about hurting anyone, but we can't just treat this like a game. They're watching right now you know?" Kusari looked Seina up and down, then tilting her head to the side. "Did you have some sort of tracking magic? Well if so, you should find Christmas first, if they find him first this is as good as over."

The image hadn't fully registered when Siena had been spun to face the other way, her head reeling with the sudden motion. Blinking away the spots, the brunette glanced at Kusari while readjusting her grip on her tablet. "Alright. It'll help me if you can tell me what he's like for tracking purposes. Since it's a matter of finding him first, I won't be much use on the offensive front..." Tap, tap, zoom. "If I find him, I'll bring him to cover. It doesn't seem like the other team has much by the way of tracking, so I think they might stage an all out assault...that said, be careful. I'd hate to be alone when I get back to you guys..."

Chris continued to shake and quiver, with his head facing the ground. His hands clenching what they could from the earth below while his teeth started to sink further into the rolled up cloth in his mouth. The sound of muffled screaming could be heard leaking from his gag.
His skin started to sag, and for a moment looked like dripping liquid before turning green and hardening into scales.

Slowly his form started to expand and grow as a tail began to rip out of his spinal cord, drawing blood and a large, temporary gash in his back with partial exposed spine.
Chris could feel primeval rage build up within him, as if his instincts were excited from both pain and anticipation. His malforming figure would jerk up, first more like a savage animal before a more human composure took shape, hands clawing at his face as if too drown out the waves of pain flowing through him. His Pupils slowly morphed into reptilian slits and the iris becoming a crimson red.

"Something about Christmas?..." Kusari let out a grumble, surely Siena had seen the boy in class, so she knew what he looked like. Did she want to know something personal about him? "Christmas is-" She was interrupted by disturbing noises coming from Chris. She let our a breath, choosing not to look and continue talking. "He's a wimp, has no spine whatsoever. Being alone in a place like this, I wouldn't be surprised if he were huddled in a corner whimpering."

Callan visibly frowned. A specific weakness? Kusari seemed to disagree with her about treating this like a game, but... what did she mean by that? And now, according to Kusari, their healer was probably crying somewhere-- a thought she found both sad and worrisome, since noise would definitely make him easier to find. She remembered the frail looking boy from several nights before and sighed to herself, waiting to see where Kusari and Siena were going with this-- all while trying not to focus on the super unpleasant sounds coming from Chris.

Her own role seemed pretty clear at this point-- take out Sander's flags to tip the scale in their favor while the others tried to find and protect Christmas. But if he was too squeamish about drinking... she turned to look at the boy again. A small smile broke across her face. Ah, there it was. Her eyes gleamed. Sander, after some time of hesitation, had finally started pulling canisters out of the cooler. She watched with eager anticipation as one fell to the ground-- and then another... and another. For a second there, she thought she thought he might throw the game.

"Oh...well that's...unfortunate..." Especially considering that Lily was significantly less likely to be stationary, making the opposing team's healer much more difficult to get a track on. "I'll get Christmas first. If you're all still in the thick of combat, I'll keep him out of sight, but I can't take him with me if we want to find Lily." Peering at her teammates, Siena considered that she was probably opening herself up to a lot of pressure--if her team lost the initial fight, then getting Lily to safety was the only real option. Considering the opposing team's strengths, Siena was more than aware that if it came down to it, she was going to have to play as dirty as possible.

She tapped the screen, held it, and bookmarked a page.

"If anyone has objections to that, let me know. Once I start with that plan, there's a good chance that I won't have much opportunity to change it on the fly."

"Sounds fine to me..." Kusari said, examining the surroundings once more. They could use the buildings as cover if they needed to, might even run into Lily in the process. "It's too bad we can't fortify this position in some way. Since Chris's flags are here we're basically forced to make it our base." She let out a sigh and looked back to the opposing team. Sander had finally started drinking from canisters of what could only be blood. "I guess we're dealing with him after all."

Callan turned her smile to Kusari as she tied her hair up. "Leave pretty boy to me," she said with a confident nod. "As for fortification-- I'm sure they'll have a hard time getting at Chris's flags if they're underneath a huge dragon, right?" She hoped Chris heard her, but was reluctant to glance over her shoulder at him and check.

As the scales continued to grow and form into plate-like armor, Chris's eyes were no longer remotely human. His snout began to extend and deform from its humanoid composure. His fingers would to hunch into a more primitive design. With sharpening teeth his canines tore through the cloth gag from clenching is teeth so hard. With his expanding form and rigid scales the flags would start to fall from his person and scattered around him.

"Alright...I think we have some semblance of a plan. If we wind up down to our last flags, someone try and figure out a signal I can see from most vantage points so I know I have to switch tactics, I guess." What that signal was, she wouldn't really have much say in, but with the first names up for the draw, there wasn't any chance that the brunette could handle more than one, maybe two opponents...and that was factoring in the element of surprise. Which she was certain she wouldn't really have. "I'll wait to pull names until the last minute so I can draw out the time I can use them."

"Hmmm... a signal...," Callan mused, stretching her arms above her head. She let them fall inward, locking her fingers behind her messy aquamarine ponytail as she continued to stretch her back with heavy sigh.

Chris would scream, breaking through the gag completely as whatever was left of his humanity was gone save his conscience, his form rapidly expanding into the size of a horse, tail fully grown out, and horns sporting from the back of his head. The scales were now fully plated, glistening like a suit of armor with the back plates appearing especially sharp.

Hearing the suggestion for a signal, with the pain dying down, Chris rose up to his typical stance looking at the two of them briefly, and given a snort to get their attention. After doing so, He'd quickly stand up onto his hind legs, neck reaching to the sky as he released a terrifying monstrous cry. Standing over a towel and his flags, after what was approximately 10 seconds of the sustained roar, he closed his jaws and lowered to the floor with a loud and sudden thud.

Kusari watched with a blank expression as Chris roared, as he was now in his dragon form. "Really? Could you not?"

A wide smile broke across Callan's face, though she winced at the sheer ferociousness of the sound.

"That'll work!" she chuckled, admiring the dragon's awesome form-- slightly terrifying as it was.

Lowering her arms and with a quick shake of her shoulders, she stepped towards Team One, positioning herself in front of everyone. "I'm gonna wait for Sander to make the first move so I can head him off." She glanced at Chris over her shoulder, "If Chris needs help controlling himself-- call me." She locked eyes with Siena knowingly. The phrasing of her request felt disturbingly familiar.

"Y-yeah. I'll get to you in a flash," Siena claimed with a faint nod of her head towards Callan. Hopefully it wouldn't be a necessity. If it was, then Siena could only hope that she could tell from wherever she was. Ears still ringing faintly from the extended roar, Siena gave a weak smile towards Chris's new form. True to her memory, the dragon was not something that she would have wanted to go against on her own. Still, knowing that it was Chris somehow made it seem less intimidating...almost like...

"Awwww, dragon puppy!" Two puppies in one day, who would have guessed? Unable to contain the smile that beamed its way through her best attempts to seem like she knew what she was doing, Siena cleared her throat and quickly lowered her gaze to her tablet, trying to remember the control she'd felt when she had been in Ground Zero last. The same feeling of understanding just a fragment more. Just a few drops of the stormy seas. "Er...this may be a bit bright."

Chris stomped his left foot in protest of being called a 'puppy.' Despite his monstrous appearance one could tell that the dragon was glaring at Siena. However it would nod its head towards Callan, then looked to the ground where the flags have been left.

With a breath, Siena began her work. Letters pulled themselves from the screen what could best be described as an arcane circle filled the space around Siena for an instant, brilliant, purple glow going unnoticed by Siena as she hastened her work. She'd taken two before, perhaps she could take two this time too. As her eyes faded from its usual grey hue to a more striking gold, Siena could feel the first of her marks begin to dig his claws in, making himself at home in a polite, if unwavering way. At least, she acknowledged, he wasn't especially difficult to control. Not when he'd only been good for one thing, and one thing only.

Two taps later the process repeated itself, taking far too long to be put into practical combat on a whim. The second name was faster than the first, easier to connect to really.

By the time she had taken her second name, the letters had neatly printed themselves across the back of her neck. Demetri and a woefully underdeveloped, but still capable Kurt Wagner.

Chris watched as Siena became shrouded in light, and watched for some time the transformation process. It was interesting, but instinct began to take over. This time though for a different reason. The idea of a 'Dragon guarding its treasure' that the instructor mention hadn't really stuck with Chris until now. As if the flags really were treasure Chris would begin to cricle his flags, before sitting on a spot where his body was over them. He'd stretch out his legs to cover a few flags while his tail and torso protected the rest. There was a sort of motivation now, albeit unclear of the source, to protect and to not leave his 'treasure hoard'.

while the rest of Chris's teammates filled their roles, the dragon would continue to lay upon his flags. For some reason, he felt tired, as if laying upon the imaginary treasure was a relaxing and soothing tax. Chris began to doze off, but not completely. While his eyes started to close, he perception to sound was still active. His earholes ready to pick up anything that didn't sound like his teammates.

---

---

---

---

As the team reached the town’s plaza, Angel scanned the surroundings beneath her shades, analyzing the area. The girl may not have been the most enthusiastic about this whole idea of playing “flag and seek”, considering just how stupid that game sounded for students of a school prison to partake into, but she was a team player nonetheless. She could afford to cast away her disgust about this whole situation if it meant to make her team win.

“Hmm… so we really do need to find Lilianna all the while we look for the other healer…” Angel mused as she noticed she was the only girl on the team. “Hey there, guys. I’m Angélique, or Angel if you prefer.”

Marcus also looked around, viewing the area with uncertainty. The few dead bodies that littered the ground kind of took away from the gung-ho, 'let's kick ass' attitude he'd begun with. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes, sighing softly. The ruined town brought too many memories with it, memories that were also doing their best to demoralize him.

He turned as one of his teammates spoke; the chick with the sunglasses. "Yeah...lord knows they couldn't make it easy for us or anything. Marcus." he said, smiling warmly and nodding his head.

Sander already knew what was in the cooler before the pair of guards marched it over to him. A frown creased his brow, but he didn’t voice any protest. They had already told him as much: this was mandatory, meaning he would have no choice in this matter. What he did have a choice about though…well, he didn’t want to think about it.

Once his teammates started speaking up, he glanced tentatively in their direction, searching his memory to put names to faces. He only recognized the young woman with sunglasses, and only vaguely. He doubted they had exchanged names though, given the fact that their last meeting had been in less than favorable conditions.

“Hey.”-Since his teammates were beginning to introduce themselves, common courtesy demanded that he returned the favor –“Sander Lorraine.”

Grant looked around with a tired gaze. A game, huh. Annoying. He rolled his neck and figured that he should just get this over with, not like he really wanted to be here in the first place. He look over at the rest of his teammates. They all seemed familiar at a glance, and there was even one person he remembered. What was his name? Marcus. Right.

He let them introduce themselves first, before he said simply, "Grant." And nothing else. Didn't matter if he said any more, he would've been interrupted by...

A loud beeping noise was suddenly emitted from everyone's cuffs, followed by the musical tenor of Mr. Francisco's voice.

"Just to clarify! Due to the unique nature of his ability, Mr. Francis is exempt from being out as soon as he takes his flags off to transform. He may keep his flags on the ground, but the Scorgasms better make sure they protect it like a good dragon guards his golden hoard, because if the other team picks up all the pieces-- he's out!" A second beep signaled the end of his message.

“Right.” Angel muttered after Fredric’s announcement. She remembered how she had to protect Chris’ naked ass while he was transforming. Would he be foolish enough to take half the game’s duration to transform himself? Somehow, she was more afraid that he would be ripping their limbs apart instead of taking their flags.

“Well, with what he just said, I guess we could use what little time we have left for strategy, wouldn’t you agree?” the black-haired Aberration added as she pulled out folded papers from the back pocket of her jeans and beckoned the others to approach her with a wave of her hand.

“I’m no strategist, mind you, but I figured it would be most beneficial for everyone here to know names, faces and powers. Starting with myself, you all know my name now, and I have to power to emit destructive sonic waves by screaming loudly.”

“I don’t know much about you guys, sorry.” Angélique chuckled as she realized she haven’t interacted with anyone on her team beforehand. “Let me make up for it.” She shuffled through her pages and pulled out ten sheets.

"I'm mobility." Marcus said, very matter-of-factly. "I can basically teleport back to where I was two seconds ago, or I can jump ahead by a few seconds. Not a trick I can do over and over again, though." he finished.

Sander kept his eyes on the red canister as the conversation went on around him, moving his hand every so often to feel the liquid slosh. When Angel started on the topic of power, he looked up at her, jaws again twitching as he chose his words. It was only appropriate that he shared what he could. They were already stuck with him; there was no point in making this harder for them.

“I can become stronger. After…drinking.”- He held up the red canister for emphasis, before falling silent again.

"How much stronger are we talking here? Because we might be at a slight disadvantage in the power department. " Marcus said, hesitantly looking at the red canister.

“Depends.”-Sander shrugged –“It is not without risk, though.”

""R-risk?" Marcus asked, the hesitation in voice becoming abundantly clear. "Risk of what, exactly?"

“Depends.”-Sander repeated, eyeing the scarred boy carefully. He fell silent for a few moment, before continuing –“My power isn’t exactly stable.”

"Right. Unstable. Got it." He did not at all get it, but at this point, he wasn't sure he wanted to ask any more questions.

Grant watched the two, Marcus and Sander, go back and forth with Q&A. Or just Q, because Marcus didn't seem to be getting any straight answers. Once there was a moment of silence from them, or hesitation, Grant cleared his throat. "I have these two chains here..." He pointed with his thumb back behind him as two chains appeared, swaying just behind him. "Whatever they touch, I can manipulate, as long as it's nonliving and in my range." He'd summarize his power before the chains lowered out of sight, and they were gone.

While the boys were talking about their powers, Angel silently nodded, gazing upon the canisters of red liquid Sander was carrying around. What could he be possibly drinking to give him that much power? She took mental notes of what was being said, reminding herself to put add those entries to her profile sheets later on after this game.

"Christ, you two, stop running around in circles! He means he can lose control of himself. Haven't you seen him after that battle with the monsters? He literally was about to jump at his teammates." Angel commented, remembering well the night. First it was a stand-off against Dragon-transformed Chris, and afterwards Shane had to immobilize him into a crystal cage as he went berserk and jumped towards Christmas.

"Just don't overdo it. When you feel you have enough, just stop. Winning is one thing, putting your future comrades in danger because of a game is another." She added, the certainty in her voice hinting as if she knew what she was talking about.

"What is that stuff you are carrying in those containers anyway? Some sort of magic potion? Chemical-enhanced drink maybe?" Angel questioned the tall lanky boy.

Sander fell silent at that question, his gaze once again glued to the canister. When it seemed almost like he wouldn’t give an answer at all, he let out a sigh, then said hastily, not unlike the way someone would yank a thorn out of their flesh quickly enough to minimize the pain.

“Blood.”

Hearing that, Angélique was revolted from the idea. Truly, the more she learnt about Subnaturals powers, the more twisted she thought of how Dreamcatcher's way of gifting young people their powers.

"As long as you don't come sucking down blood from my neck, who am I to judge, heh?"

Sander offered no remark, content to simply admire the nearby crumbling building.

“Anyway, Lilianna is the small blonde girl, riiiiight there” she trailed off as she searched throughout the profile sheets she brought until she found Lilianna’s picture. “Apparently, she can transfer wounds. I don’t really know much about it beyond what we were briefed before though.”

“I don’t know anything about Callan and Kusari, to be honest.” She said with a hint of disappointment as she pointed the two profile pictures. “As for Christmas, well we all know he’s the guy who can heal with his blood, right?” She added as she shuffled her sheet to put the boy’s profile on top.

"Oh, I can help you there. Callan is basically a super hero: Super strength, super speed, the works. Kusari is...indestructible, I guess?" Marcus said, trying to find a way to describe it. He'd only seen it happen once so far, but it had held up to Emma's explanation. "She like, can heal anything you do to her. Also she's got this weird raptor leg. I really don't quite know how that fits in."

“However, I’ve personally been in contact with Christopher and Siena. Let me tell you, these guys may be those who would give us a run for our money. Chris has this huge disadvantage of having to wait for five minutes to transform. He’s in great pain and is most likely unable to move while he’s trying to become a dragon. That’s our window of opportunity to grab his flags. Once he’s transformed though, we’re fucked. I saw what a Dragon could do on the battlefield. He’s reckless, savage and violent. I suggest you haul your asses’ outta his way if he manages to transform.”

“As for Siena, she can borrow the power of any kind of character she can read from her tablet. I’ve been here with her before today. She could tear apart a building if she wanted to. Even managed to amplify my own powers. There’s no telling what she might be up to, her powers are as versatile as the number of books she can get her hands on.”

Marcus paused for a moment. He'd never actually seen Siena in action; even back at the battlefield, he was preoccupied with his fight and didn't get a chance to see what she was going to do. He knew what he'd been told, but this woman had apparently seen them firsthand. Some sort of emotion crossed his mind; guilt for not seeing his own roommate fight? Upset that he'd not been paying attention to his own teammate during the battle? It was something along those lines, but he quickly pushed it out of his head.

Back to the topic of strategy, a welcome diversion: "Like I said, I'm mobility, so I can rush in and grab his flags if he's stuck transforming, or even if he's just big and slow, but I doubt they'll let that happen easily. There's also the matter of the healer; did anybody happen to cheat and see where they put him?" he asked, grinning and looking around. It was a big area, and if they only had ten minutes, finding the kid was probably going to be impossible.

“I can help with that. Christmas is…near.”- Sander turned his head in a particular direction, eyes faraway –“I think I can find him.”

"Well that makes things a little bit easier, I suppose." Marcus said, unwilling to follow that up with a question. "So who do we worry about first, the dragon or the healer?" He mentally winced slightly at the question. He knew that whatever the answer, he was probably the best for it, while the front line fighters had their blood duel.

"Well, you said you could flash forward and backwards, right? How about you flash to wherever he dropped his flags and get back with them backwards?" Angel suggested, thinking they might as well take the opportunity for free points. Although if Sander could really find Christmas, then they shouldn't be worrying too much about the other team's flags.

"Alternatively, you could act as diversion. Like, we could go all out there and turn everyone's attention from Sander while he's going to look out for Christmas. Make ourselves as much of a threat as possible. Healers are worth a lot of points, if we can snatch him and a few flags, while making sure they don't find Lily, then we're set to win." She further added, her mind full on into imagining how the game would play out.

"From what you've been telling, nobody on the other side has the power to immediately look after Lily. "

Unless...

"Keep an eye on Siena though, she is the only one who could potentially have the power to seek her out, if she is mined into finding the healer instead of taking flags." Angel cautioned.

"Alright, why not do both? Run in, grab the dragon's flags. After that, tag Sander out, he goes and looks for their healer! Easy-peasy!" Marcus said, starting to get excited. "If we split up one-on-one, then whoever's after Siena is effectively also defending Lily, we win, no classes!"

“So, do you think I need to drink for this?”- Sander suddenly said, his tone tentative.

Marcus hesitantly shot a side glance at Angel. "I mean...depends who you're going against. Strength versus strength would be Callan, and she's pretty damn strong."

Thinking about who everyone wanted to be up against, Angel suddenly felt so useless. Sure, she might have a leading presence, but that won't stop anyone from getting past her. The only way she could effectively stop anyone dead in their tracks is to literally scream at them, and that was the least of what she wanted to do in this game. The only use she had was hand-to-hand combat, given what she had learned from her ex-bodyguard who happened to mentor her for self-defense. However, self-defense doesn't do jack shit against actual powers.

"It's likely Callan will be targeting probably every single one of us, if she is as strong as you say she is. I mean, what can we do against that? It doesn't sound like she has a particular limit in order to use her strength. Unless she is like superman and has an actual weakness to kryptonite." Angel chuckled at the stupid thought. Still, the matter of how stopping Callan without potentially injuring her was unnerving.

"Sander shouldn't be held up by her if we want him to find Christmas. He's got to be discreet if we don't want the other team tailing him down to where their healer is. I'd think, sure, drink as much as you can actually remain in control, it wouldn't hurt to have some extra muscles in case anything happens."

"Well, I haven't been throwing rocks at her to test that one out, so I can't help you there," Marcus said, also chucking. "Hell, even if you could just point one of us in the right direction, that could leave you to keep dealing with her. Battle of the century, clash of the titans, you know?" Marcus said, turning get Sander's opinion on the whole situation.

“I can find him faster.”- Sander looked clearly uncomfortable with Marcus’ comparisons, but he didn’t mention any of it. –“But if you want me to fight Callan…”- He trailed off, turning his gaze to the other team’s side.

“Is she very strong?”

"To date, I've seen her bend a metal bleacher by bouncing her head off it, push that same metal bleacher back into place, and then punch a hole straight through Kusari. And that was all with the suppression cuff on." Marcus said, nodding affirmatively.

He didn't want to push anymore; this guy didn't seem to appreciate the idea of fighting, but he'd at least answer truthfully. Whatever his power was, it actually be a literal clash of the titans, assuming Callan wanted the challenge. And if there was one thing he could guess about Callan; she wanted the challenge. She'd immediately jumped at the biggest enemy their first fight, so it made sense she'd do the same thing here.

“Is that so?”- Sander mumbled, almost just to himself –“Then maybe she ca—I can do this. I can. Can I?”

With that said, Sander moved toward the cooler and opened it up again, revealing rows of canisters inside. He stared at the red canister in his hand for the longest time, before dropping it on the ground and pushed it away with the tip of his shoe. Then he reached into the cooler, fishing out the first one and opened it up. A brief moment of hesitation flicked by, before he tilled his head back and began to chug down mouthfuls. The red glow around him flickered on and off as he used his power to catch any spillage. As soon as he finished with one, he tossed the empty vessel to the ground and began with another.

While Sander was downing the content of his canisters, Angel turned to Marcus, a look on disbelief on her face as he had heard what Callan was capable of, disturbed by her last achievement, or what she believed she heard. It wasn't just possible, surely she had misheard the scarred boy.

"Wait... She whaaat!? The fuck!?"

"Bent a bleacher, re-bent a bleacher, and then punched a hole in Kusari." Marcus said, as casually as if he were listing off things from a grocery list. " But Kusari's the invincible one, and I guess she asked Callan to punch her?" he finished, shrugging. He took a few steps away from Sander as he spoke, not wanting to get caught in whatever the red glow around him was.

Who the hell were those peoples? From what Angel had read from the profiles, those two girls were Arbiters, no sign of being batshit crazed Aberrations like her and the others. Why the heck would they go around punching holes into each other for the heck of it? Didn't Kusari feel pain nonetheless. Has her powers effectively rendered senseless to pain? Or was she a masochist on the extreme level? Guess not every Arbiters are in control of themselves, as the popular opinion would believe.

Part of her would want to know more about how that situation came to develop into, but deep inside she really didn't want to pry into this matter any further, already disgusted by the outcome of it. Anyway, Marcus seemed to have wandered off to Sander's side, who was still drinking down his containers filled with blood.

Hope he doesn't overdo it...

"J-just remember that you're only trying to get the flags, man." Marcus said, almost as an afterthought. If he was sending this guy after his own roommate, he didn't want to be putting her in danger. Second thoughts began to race in his mind; if Sander truly did berserk, there was absolutely nothing he was going to be able to do to stop him. "Flags. Not punches, not kicks. Just the flags." he said, more firmly this time.

Sander gave Marcus a look over his shoulder, crimson eyes impassive. He gave a nod that was barely there, before turning back. However, after a brief moment, he turned his head eastward, narrowing his eyes as if trying to catch something in the distance.

“Christmas is somewhere to the right side.”-Eventually, he spoke up, gaze fixed on a faraway point, nostrils flared as he sniffed the air–“At 2? 3 o’clock?”

Another moment of silent staring passed, and Sander returned to his cooler, plundering its content with a desperate haste.

Angélique's gaze turned to the direction Sander believed he sniffed Christmas, about north-east from their position. Scanning the area with curious eyes, there were two options where Christmas could be hiding. The five stories-high apartment complex and what seemed to be a ruined mall. Hiding the boy in one of those buildings seemed highly dangerous, considering the heavily-damaged infrastructure of the buildings. What if they used their powers in the flag showdown? They could risk plummeting the buildings on top of their classmate's head.

Upon focusing the area a bit more, a third unlikely option opened in Angel's mind. The open manhole. It seemed just as dangerous considering the many cracks and rupture on the streets' asphalt, but that would be one heck of a place to hide someone.

"Have you ever tried to guess about how far you can you sense someone.?" Angel questioned Sander."Also, can you sense people you don't know? If you can pick up anything astray, far from where we are, perhaps that might point us to where Lily is."

Sander paused once more, turning to Angel with what could only be described as a withering look. However, he said nothing, only gave a firm shake of his head then turned back to the cooler.

"Well, glad we got that figured out. If he's taking Callan, I can try and take Dragon-boy's flags; get in and get out before he can fling me across the plaza." Marcus said, looking to the rest of the team for confirmation. The blood in his veins was starting to boil with excitement, and he was starting to get antsy.

Homeroom (cont.)

An Autobiography by Marcus Howell

---

Marcus had walked back to the classroom by himself, neglecting to try and hunt down any of the previous lunch-mates. His mind pondered things slowly, things that he really didn’t want to ponder, but had more than enough of an opportunity to.

“What the hell happened back there?” was first and foremost on his mind. He wasn’t the jealous type…he was more of a ‘let everything roll off and move on’ type. And, while he was certainly sassy, he was never directly confrontational about it. So why now? What exactly had triggered that? It wasn’t a side of him he liked, and he’d seen the surprise in basically everybody’s face.

Was he just lashing out because he was pissed at the dog?

That wasn’t it. He knew anger, and he knew anger well. That hadn’t been straight anger so much as just him trying to shoot down a challenger. A challenger for what though? Emma? He had absolutely no right to Emma; any ‘challengers’ were just additional dates, much like he’d done.

Why then? He’d jumped to try and shoot down Ernie; to try and seem like the big macho man in front of Emma. Maybe it was because of the dog. Perhaps he was over-compensating to draw the attention away from his irrational fear of a goddamned ankle-biting dog. Or maybe he was just afraid of having something snatched from his grasp, even it was as small as a simple date. Or maybe he was just a huge asshole, and his true colors were starting to show.

This was getting him just about as far as any of the other times he’d sat down and over-analyzed himself. He was fairly practiced in pointing out his own flaws (god knew he had enough free time to become a pro) and this was the point where his inner monologue was just going to start calling him names. By now, he had made the journey back to the classroom, and sat down in his seat.

Fortunately, there was plenty going on to distract him. The addition of elective choices was nice, and Marcus briefly skimmed over the paper before turning his full attention to the topic of ‘Flag and Seek’. His chest swelled a bit with egotistical pride at the mention of how good Blue Team did with their healer, remembering the friendly face that had almost blown him to smithereens. The rules seemed very simple; points for flags, a win for the healer, yadda yadda. Flag football wasn’t a foreign concept to him, and this was just flag football with the addition of superpowers. Every teenage boy’s dream, really.

Sander, Angelique, Grant, and Lily. There were only two names he really recognized from that list, but the opposing team was one he knew only slightly better. His two roommates and Kusari stuck out, and Marcus couldn’t help but give a little ‘it’s on’ glance to his suitemates. There’d be bragging in 430 tonight, one way or another.

And then everything got serious for a moment. The change in tone was so drastic that Marcus’s own heart sank as Fred spoke. His emotion quickly turned to contempt though, the longer that he talked.

“They've learned well enough by now to stay away from more densely populated cities where the chances of running into a large number of mages are high, but that hasn't stopped them from attacking smaller locales.”

Not as important.

"...you should know that they've been behaving strangely in the last year.”

Is that why…?

But Marcus didn’t have much time to ponder these things, for as quickly as the tone shifted, it shifted back, and they were left to learn chemistry or something. He was too busy cracking open the new phone that he’d been given and deliberately trying to divert his mind elsewhere. It took a little while for him to get it started up, but he eventually succeeded. Immediately, he pulled the small slip Rosa had given him and copied it into his contacts, following up with a quick text.

Finally got a cell phone. They told me you at least got my message, so I hope you haven’t been freaking out too much. Let me know if you’re free for a call later tonight; a lot’s happened since we last talked.

The rest of the time was decidedly not spent on listening to someone yammer on about bonds and ions and garbage. Instead, he was filling out his elective form, putting his pencil to his mouth as he went over the decisions; a few of the choices stuck out to him, but he was having an overall hard time trying to decide which ones he liked the least. P.E might be fun to try out again, especially with the new abilities they all had. But it might just be regular, boring P.E, which would not be fun to try out again. It was strange; they way everything was laid out, you'd almost forget that it was just a facade to help them better adjust. He shook his head, trying to loosen that thought from his mind, and focused more on his elective paper.



All that was left to do now was daydream, and come up with some strategies for this ‘game’ they were about to play. It’d be easier if he knew everybody’s powers, but that didn’t stop him from coming up with some pretty amazing fight scenes in his head. He looked forward to being one of the first groups out there – might as well give everyone something to try and strive for, he thought to himself, a confident smile the only thing betraying his thoughts.

Another four students were missing when Brent came back, but he discarded that fact just as quickly as he noted it. Irrelevant information. Not related to Aaron’s disappearance. Guard presence didn’t increase, and he hadn’t noted any sort of commotion at all. Similarly, Frederic didn’t show anything at all on his face, only a smile and the same enthusiasm that Brent couldn’t tell was genuine or fake. So the disappearances were for something else.

Lillianna, Christmas, Sophia, and some other person. Two of them had been the healers within the group. One was recon. Another was unknown. Support-type powers then? Special classes for them?

He didn’t have long to dwell upon the disappearances though, because the subject of electives came up, all the amethyst-eyed youth did was smile and spare a random line about lunch towards Emma, before turning to more important things. The dark-haired x-girl was no longer smiling. Something probably happened during lunch, and this time around, Brent wasn’t interested in digging into that.

Bringing out a pen and spinning it a few times in his hand, the brunette gave himself a minute to read the list over, before going with his gut instinct, listing things off by whatever caught his attention first.

He wasn’t planning on stopping his early morning routines, after all, so really, he didn’t even need PE. Cooking was no doubt the most useful skill for him at the moment, so he could better monitor his nutrition and calorie intake. Woodworking just seemed like a more interesting skill than anything else prevalent, and perhaps it could be ‘upgraded’ into metalwork later on. And Music Theory? Well, that was a good chance to chill with Savannah, if nothing else, and Brent DID like music in general, if nothing else.

Everything else on the list though? With no real idea of where he stood on that particular spectrum, the arbiter just ranked them off at random.

With all that said and done, he settled for flicking out his smartphone once more, ready to look for some other task to entertain himself with during class, when Good Guy Fred dropped another information dump in the form of the first ‘game’ they would be playing in the afternoon.

“Flag and Seek,” he murmured, before he reflexively smiled. They were sending flesh-and-blood humans up against others that could punch holes into people on accident or turn into dragons or headbutt massive walls with no consequence? Sounded like a hell lot of stupid, expecting them to also make this non-lethal.

Sounded like a hell lot of fun too.

A game of flag collection and support-hunting, where usage of powers was permitted as long as they weren’t going to be used fatally. His hand rested against the gun holstered against his hip. Won’t be using that then. His teammates made him curious as well, however. Emma, Savannah, Ernie, and Gregory, huh? So that long-blonde haired dude was Gregory, while he was stuck with a small child and an unstable psycho as his teammates, plus a random dude.

Still fun!

On the opposing team with be Sophia (annoying, she could probably avoid capture with her recon power), Zoe (stronk girl is stronk), Allison (a ninja that really just popped up out of nowhere like…once?), Hazel (who?), and Lawrence. That last name, the sole male of the Victorious Secret, gave Brent the most pause, as he was apparently the one individual with significant firearms training. If he actually did pack a gun to this fight…well, that was going to be problematic on multiple levels.

No one could dodge bullets, after all, and he still hadn’t forgotten about the brutal amounts of pain a single shot had caused him during orientation day. Brent touched his right shoulder once more, before nodding to himself.

Optimize speed, mobility, and, if Lawrence brought his little friend to the match, take him out first.

Turned out he didn’t need his smartphone after all. Brent spent the rest of his class daydreaming about scenarios, situations, and options.

---

Brent was gone the moment classes ended, rushing off back to the dorms once more. If they were going first, he would have considered doing something like finding his teammates and discussing strategies during the break, but they were going afterwards, and he had to prioritize acquiring the tools he needed. Powering up the stairs once more and wondering if Alex was perpetually just stuck in that comfy seat in the lobby of Building A, the amethyst-eyed youth took off his shirt before he even entered his room, tossing it onto his bed before leaping out of his pants.

Sweatpants. Body armor over a naked top. Leather gloves, fingerless. His brand new machete. Rollerblades, for mobility. What else?

Brent clicked his tongue. Maybe he should have asked for infrared instead of night vision. And a tazer as well. He didn’t like his lack of long-ranged options, after all, not if he had to choose between what was basically a toy and a handcannon…but a nerf gun wasn’t ever going to get a function that, say, ‘caused pain’. So the Desert Eagle remained where it was. If things got ‘desperate’, he’ll pull it out, but Brent didn’t expect to.

It was just a game. He should be fine with just this.

Looking like another outlandish psychopath (perhaps a murderous roller derby player), he sidestepped his way down the stairs…and then went up. Down up down up, he spent a good fifteen minutes of his break just practicing the whole staircasing thing, greeting dorm buds on the way, working up a good sweat.

He would have liked more time to practice, more time to attain more skills, more time for everything, but on the other hand?

“Just a game.”

---

If nothing else, he wasn’t the only person dressed up strangely. Zoe, after all, seemed to have opted to wear the least amount of clothing possible, and Brent grinned at that. Contact-based power then? Set her skin on fire and all that? Fun stuff, probably.

Free snacks were equally nice, but he refrained for the time being, taking a small carton of apple juice instead. It’d be terrible if he somehow got stomach cramps during the upcoming Flag and Seek, wouldn’t it?

The smile faded, as he recalled a less than pleasant experience.

Yeah it totally would.

But it was just a game.

So he didn't need to take it so seriously, right?

"Right."

Hazel Baker

Her mind was full of questions.

Through the classes and Fred's explanation, all she could think about was the dream. Kusari mentioned having a similar dream, but it seemed to lack the urgency and the sense of danger of hers, at least, as far as Hazel gathered. It was scary to think that she might be the only one experiencing this. Did Kusari hate her now? Probably. Scary things weren't something people wanted to hear. Thus she remained alone with her dreams, of her ever cracking room.

The price of power.

But how much was she willing to stand for more? The battle they had fought reminded her that she was weak, weaker than even some of the others. Hazel was sure she was growing stronger with every dream she experiences, but those dreams scares her a lot. She was both afraid of being too weak for them and being too scary for them. She didn't want to be punished again. She didn't want to-

"You want them back? Pay attention."

Pulled away from her own thoughts, she listened intently to Fredric. Basically the rules boiled down to take their flags, prevent them from taking your flag, find then bring back any healers and prevent the other team from doing the same. Anything goes as long as as the others didn't die. It had objectives that was better defined, and a goal that was more readily apparent than the first fight she had been to, so even without orders, she could perhaps figure out the best option to take. If Lawrence had no orders, and leave her to her own devices again that was.

As for that list of electives, she simply jotted down subjects in a random pattern; first woodworking, then music, home ec, PE, art, film study, creative writing, and lastly computer science. Hazel had no real knowledge of any of the subjects, and thus no real interest or passion for any of them.



Finally, they were corralled into some sort of observation room, with monitors everywhere; of note the ones with a view of Ground Zero. That girl was there again, a girl Hazel had forgotten the name of. Daisy was it? She was grinning widely all the time like some overexcited kid —at a play ground, where she spun around giggling— at their first time in a circus. There was food and drinks aplenty on the table, but that was not what she was staring at.

One of the girls in the observation room was dressed in what she could only recognize as underwear.

None of the others seemed to think it was strange as well. She ran possible scenarios in her head before finally reaching a conclusion. It was possible that the girl had taken off her clothes in an effort to minimize restrictions on her movements. Hazel looked down on her own clothing, looking over the simple blouse with puffed sleeve tops, and the simple brown long skirt. It certainly looks like it was possible her clothes could hamper her in some inconvenient way in a crucial moment.

"I see."

With those words, she started undressing, popping the buttons on her blouse first.

Ernie scanned the security room as they walked in, immediately zeroing in on the snacks laid out on the table. His grateful wave to Rosa was returned with snappy finger guns. So he was going head to head against four mages he had no information about. The obvious choice of action would've been to gather information about his teammates and opponents but right now there was something he needed to clear up while the window was still open. Before Marcus got there instead of him. Ernie walked over to Emma and slumped into the seat next to her. The key was to look... what was the word... sympathetic, something he didn't feel often enough. But it was like what they always said: fake it 'til you make it.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked quietly. His eyes were glued on her face, making sure to capture any nuanced expression she revealed.

Emma internally cringed as soon as she noticed Ernie making her way towards her. Confrontation was what she’d been trying to avoid, but it isn’t always as easy as pretending that everything was okay. After all, the word ‘confrontation’ implies that there’s more than one force involved, and Ernie was a force that was hard to predict.

She gave the boy a smile as he approached; not her smile, though. Not the usual beaming grin, but something more slight, exuding sadness where happiness should be implied. She made no effort to hide the fact that she felt like shit after lunch, giving him a shrug in response, ”I’ll be fine.” was all she said, but it was clear that she wasn’t, careful analysis or no.

Ah crud, she really was bummed out. Was that a good thing? Could he use that? It depended on who she was bummed out at, really. Under no circumstances could he let her mood be at him.

"I think I'm supposed to apologize for earlier," he started slowly to test the waters. So far it was manageable. Honesty would be a good place to start, "Things went weird back there and, if I'm being real here, I'm still not entirely sure what happened or where it went wonky. But I was doing a lot of the talking so some of it must have been my fault, right? Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Okay, that sounded good. Being honest was a refreshing change of pace.

Emma sighed. She didn't like where this was going, but at the very least Ernie seemed nice. The last thing she wanted to do was have to explain where things went 'wonky'. That was a can of worms she would do everything in her power not to open. "No, it's not your fault Ernie. But still, thanks for apologizing. I just... well, I'd rather not talk about it." She stopped. Hopefully that was the end of it. For now she wanted to watch whatever they were supposed to be watching in peace.

Ernie scratched his head. So it wasn't his fault after all? That was a small relief. He still had no clue why Emma was acting so closed off but at least it was certain that he was out of the equation. Her curt manner wasn't helping at all but he'd just need to keep pushing. Emma was integral to his scheme.

He concentrated, letting a short silence between them fester. Emma didn't want to talk about the cafeteria. So what about after that?

"Did Cal or Marcus talk to you afterwards?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

She had hoped that would be enough for Ernie to go away, but clearly it was not. She shook her head in response, "No, but that's fine. I'd rather avoid that awkwardness for now." That was a hint that she hoped he would pick up on.

He didn't pick up on it. As much as he loved engaging in this sort of social trickery, taking in double speak was something he'd never done properly.

"Really? You seemed upset so I thought they'd go after you. You guys are friends, aren't you? Isn't it bad to leave a friend alone when they're hurting?"

There was genuine confusion in his voice. This was basic stuff. When someone's sad, make them not sad. It seemed to him that neither Cal nor Marcus had cared enough to take that action. So he would use this in his favor. The question now was would Emma see it too?

Ernie's question gave Emma pause. "Well... I mean that's true but..." Emma rationalized the situation in her head. She wasn't sure what had happened after she left so it was hard to judge the situation, but Ernie's surprise wasn't entirely unwarranted. But even still she had only just met Cal and Marcus and... there were just too many variables for her to judge them harshly. After all, everything was her fault to begin with. "It's not that simple sometimes. I'm sure they had their reasons." She sighed. Ernie did place a seed of doubt in her, a question that she'd have to mull over some other time.

"Reasons, huh," Ernie thought aloud. Was she starting to crack yet? Hopefully yes, since he was going to make his gamble right now. He pointed it out innocently, "I thought Marc would check to see if you were okay at least. Dating a girl seems a good reason as any to make sure she isn't upset."

"We're not dating." was Emma's instant response. A reply that seemed to come a little too fast, "We have a date, we're not dating," she tapped her foot against the ground, "And anyways, he shouldn't have to chase around girls he barely knows just because she was stupid enough to-"

She cut herself off. Did I just say that? She cleared her throat, "He shouldn't have to chase around a girl he barely knows, period." she corrected.

A smile began worming its way onto Ernie's face, on that took every ounce of concentration he had to squash down. This was a fascinating development. There was a chance to smash this little relationship before it even began.

"I always thought it was more of a common decency thing than anything you're saying. But now I'm curious. Did you do something stupid earlier?" his eyes suddenly more piercing than before, "Something to Marc?"

Emma sighed again. A deep, deep, deep sigh filled with frustration. She could already feel her head starting to hurt, and her Stigma didn’t help. ”I’d prefer it if we didn’t talk about this, Ernie.” she was tired of trying to hint at it and instead went for the direct approach. ”Whatever I may or may not have done to Marcus is neither here nor there.”

"I can see that," Ernie replied, a smirk growing slowly on his face, "But who else are you gonna talk about it with? Cal? Marcus?"

A pause. He'd suddenly thought of something.

"Does Marcus know what you did?"

So far Emma had been keeping her eyes on the monitors, but now she turned towards Ernie, eyes narrowing. Her guilt was already gnawing at her, her Stigma heartily reminding her that she had done something bad, and Ernie wasn’t helping. Was he doing it on purpose, or was he just dense? ”I…”

Her Stigma seemed to be getting more insistent. Or was that just her own inner monologue admonishing her? Her thoughts turned once again to violence. That’s the easy way out, she reminded herself. ”He might, he might not, I don’t know.” her words came through clenched teeth.

The ideas broke through like a ruptured dam. Everything he'd been trying to work out, everything that had on his mind in the past few hours finally came to fruition. This was so much more satisfying than his petty grudge with Marcus! Ernie was practically bouncing in his seat now.

"Siena knows though, right? That's why you ran away like that! And Cal left with Siena afterwards, so she definitely knows too."

Can't stop, won't stop.

"Do both of them room with your date?"

The mask is definitely slipping. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. No, actually, it was certainly a bad thing. There was an ugliness inside her that she didn’t want people to see, but it seemed that ever since she had gotten to USARILN people saw right through her. Was it her own fault, or was everyone here a goddamn empath? She wasn’t entirely sure, but she hated it either way. Her Stigma was now screaming for her to knock Ernie’s head off. It didn’t sound like a bad idea, if she was being completely honest. His excitement made it clear this was just a game to him, and wiping that grin off his face seemed to be an attractive option.

She glanced at Rosa. She wouldn’t be happy; nor would the guards outside be. She took a breath, Center yourself, Emma. The self-reminder sounded over the clamor of taunts and urges. Old advice from what felt like a past life. She didn’t want to get shot over a petty fight with some kid she just met. ”You figured me out. Happy?” A slight smile danced its way onto her face. Not sad, but playful. Ernie might’ve thought this was his game, but he wasn’t the only player.

”I thought you’d seemed a little too nice. Reminded me of some people I used to know. You’re not really as nice as you seem, are you? I don’t want to be rude, but you’re a total piece of shit, right? Actually, this is probably super entertaining to you. I bet you just go around acting like everyone’s pal just because it’s a distraction, not because you actually care about being friends, huh?

Ernie beamed. He hadn't expected it to go this way at all! All he wanted to do was sabotage one stupid date. And now he got so much more than anything he ever thought would happen.

"Hey, you got me! I knew you were a smart one!" he exclaimed. This was the most fun he'd had since forever, "Making pals is really fun. But doing all," he gestured vaguely, "this is pretty fun too. Maybe even funner. Don't worry about being rude, I've been called that a lot, haha. But I gotta say something..."

He looked at her once again, giddiness and cockiness radiating from him. It was almost blinding.

"You're not so nice either, right? That's why you're so nervous. Call me a piece of shit or whatever else you want, Emma, but remember, it takes one to know one!"

Accompanied by the sound of whirring wheels, Brent popped out from the side, skidding to a halt in his murderous roller derby outfit. The same smile he always wore was on his face as he turned from seaweed-head to Emma and then back to seaweed-head.

“You’re Ernie, right? I’m Bert,” Brent said, amethyst eyes glittering, “Glad to see the both of you getting along swimmingly! Getting all pumped and such about the upcoming games?”

A purposeful intervention? Or an untimely encounter?

The longer haired boy turned to the arrival, still ecstatic from his conversation with Emma. He'd thought his smile couldn't get any larger but hearing Roller Boy's introduction had proven him quite wrong.

"No freaking way. Is that seriously your name?" he jumped out of his seat to greet that guy.

He looked 'Bert' up and down.

"Loving the kit, man. Looks like you're gonna ace this!"

Oh, energetic. He could like this kid. Putting his hands up in the air in an admission of a lie, Brent said, "Sadly, not actually the case. Brent Roless, but, well, you can call me Bert, dude. Names just names after all."

"Naw, I gotta respect the name you've been given!" Ernie offered a handshake. So this was his teammate, Brent, "Awesome that we're on the same team. This is gonna be great!"

Emma had prepared to say something to Ernie. That he didn’t know who she was, or maybe that her friends weren’t just playthings for her. But the words caught in her throat. There was a kernel of truth that she couldn’t evade.

But the important part was that it wasn’t the whole truth.

Before Emma could compose herself, she was interrupted by Brent. Just fantastic. The only thing that could make this worse just rolled up to say hi. She cringed, realizing the terrible power that the Bert and Ernie power-duo would have. They were absolutely perfect for each other, she decided. This really was Threat Level Midnight.

After they were done introducing themselves, ”Hello, Hotwheels!” She realized that she would have no choice but to play nice, considering they were about to be out fighting together. Her smile, the practiced one, slid it’s way onto her face. She did her very best not to acknowledge the train wreck taking place before her. ”That's right, we're teammates, huh? I’ll do my best to keep up.”

"Mhmm, it'll probably be fun if nothing else, but..." Brent turned to Emma then, "Honestly, I get nothing out of actually winning, and I know Savannah would probably actually want to take classes, Music Theory if nothing else, so..."

"You two interested in the prize or not?"

"That prize looks pretty fantastic to me," Ernie shrugged, "I don't really pay attention so class is just a waste of time for me. I could be off exploring town or the campus."

To Brent’s question Emma shook her head. ”It might sound dorky, but I prefer to go to class, so…” She glanced back towards her dorm mates, ”Although I doubt they’re going to be pulling any punches. If you want to go for the win, Ernie, well… I’m game, if only to avoid getting my face punched in by Hazel.”

Ah, right, Emma was there for the actual battle against Menagerie's menagerie, wasn't she? Brent nodded at this, before asking, "So...Hazel's another superstrength person? That'd probably suck, yeah."

Emma shook her head again, "Not superstrength, exactly, but whatever she does packs a punch. As far as I could tell there's no way to actually see it, Menagerie's monsters were just falling down in front of her, all smashed up."

"Damn, invisible attacks? That's crazy," Ernie took a glance at the other team, "Uh, which one is Hazel? On second thought, who are all those guys and what do they all do?"

"Wow, she has telekinesis then? That's actually disgusting..." Brent said, incredulous. "And she's the one with the bangs over her eyes. I know the other two somewhat, but yeah...Emma, care to enlighten?"

"Oh, you guys weren't at the battle, I almost forget... well, uh, to be honest I didn't really get to see anyone besides Hazel. Allison and Zoe, at least as far as I remember, were given different sections than me. I don't really know who they are though, so I'm not entirely sure. As for Lawrence, I only ever saw him use a shotgun, so I actually have no idea what his power is. Maybe Savannah would?" That hardly helped, but it was all Emma had.

"His power is to cast shotgun? That's pretty deadly too,"Brent remarked, laughing off the mild unease. It wasn't too great of a feeling, not knowing anything about their powers and yet being perfectly aware that Zoe understood the specifics of his own power...but that disadvantage was only going to last until two or so minutes into the game. And if Lawrence brought out the shotgun after all, Brent could justify his own gun in response.

"Well, guess that's just how it is. What about the powers on our side? Got a sax power or something, Ernie?"

Ernie shook his head.

"I can summon an unbreakable rope but it's only 5 meters; more of a cheap gimmick for the rest of my powers. The rope comes with insane durability so I can take a couple of solid hits. No bullets though, unfortunately. The other thing I can do is a kind of trap. I just place it on the ground and they can't move from it for a few minutes. That one's completely unbreakable too. We could tag team a snare with it, I reckon."

Emma suddenly realized that she'd never seen Brent in action, nor had he seen her power. "What exactly is your power Brent, I never actually asked. I assume it has something to do with the gettup?"

"Magically scientifically improve inanimate objects," Brent replied, grinning at how bipolar that was, "I can turn a knife, for example, into a chainsaw. Or a lightsaber. Stuff like like. Just need skin-on-skin contact with it. And huh...we can totally do something with that power of yours, Ernie. Zoe looks to have a similar power to mine, considering her outfit though, so probably better not to touch her. Meanwhile, Hazel's a telekinetic and Lawrence has a shotgun..." So the only 'touch' option was going to be Allison? Huh.

"Right, your power, Emma?"

”Well…” This was the part she didn’t like explaining, given the emotional nature of her power. She’d gotten away with being vague so far, but Brent would want specifics. She was, fortunately, starting to get a better handle on those specifics. She’d take the opportunity on one of her off-days to ‘get to know’ her creatures. She’d dubbed them Tulpas- creatures formed from thought. That had seemed appropriate. She took stock of which ones would be available. It seemed she had no lack of Determination and Devotion, but she had a third slot to fill. It seemed that her only option was… Love?

Idiot.

As way of explanation Determination, Devotion, and Love materialized behind her. ”I can summon three of them. The one with the armor is really tough and strong, but not as good at following orders. The middle one can create a field of sludge, sticky stuff that can slow someone down. The last once can pull people and things towards it.”

...yeah, that sounded like the power that was going to win them the game. The ability to turn a 4v4 into a 7v4? Crazy good.

"Yeah, that sounds like the power that's going to win us the game," Brent said, "The ability to turn a 4v4 into a 7v4? Crazy good. What's the range on your summoning? Can you like, drop your armor dude on top of people from 50 yards away or something?"

If they could pull off a quick maneuver like that and instantly mess with Victorious Secret's formation, it would definitely swing things into their favour, even with a small angry child on their team.

At that Emma smiled. One of the things she had realized is that there was indeed no hard range, "There's no hard limit, no, but there is a bit of a soft cap. They can only follow my commands, and need to be within earshot of me. Besides that I'm free to place them wherever I want. I'm also limited in my ability to summon, though..." She was intentionally evading that particular rule of her power, "I can only make so many in a given time." A small lie for the sake of her sanity.

"If the other team's got invisible force and shotgun powers, then we're gonna have to be sneaky, huh," Ernie mused, "We've definitely got the goods for it. Take them out one by one and all that?"

"Wait...they don't need to be in your line of sight?" His smile became wider now. "Got a phone, Emma?"

Emma blinked. She hadn't considered that, "Holy shit..." was her reply, "Assuming Zoe and Alli aren't a big curveball, this is actually going to be pretty easy, huh?" Even she had to admit, she did have a killer power.

"Pretty easy..." Ernie repeated dreamily, "I like the sound of that!"

"Yeah, this is actually bonkers...which is good, really. Sophia has a recon power, so she can probably evade us forever." He hadn't thought much of her ability before, but in this scenario? It was definitely mighty useful. "I can amplify the speaker of my cellphone. We can set up a call, try to blitz Hazel before she turns us into meatballs, and just play it by ear from there. If none of them have some form of superspeed, I can outpace them easily."

...hm.

"Can you do your rope thing after placing your trap thing, Ernie?"

"Yeah, they've got separate recharge times."

"And is that rope instantly made, or is it more of a skillshot?"

"It appears in my hand instantly, but if it's not touching me then it disappears."

"Wait, we might be thinking of different things." Brent scratched the back of his head. "You can't do anything like instantly connect that rope onto someone else?"

Ernie shook his head ruefully. He'd always been sorta embarrassed of this part of his skillset.

"Nah, it just shows up in a bundle in my hand. Unless I'm trying to trip someone it's pretty useless."

"Well, I'm sure five meters of unbreakable rope has some sort of application!" Brent said cheerfully...but his own mind was blanking on the possible applications. Maybe Ernie can hang himself with it?

After entering the security room, Savannah had gravitated towards the snack bar. She was chewing a cookie when she spotted Brent, the only teammate who she had met, speaking with two people. Maybe they were her two other teammates? She couldn't see a reason for Brent to speak with the opposing team. And, plus, they seemed to match the percieved genders of Emma and Ernie. A girl and a boy. Hell, why not? It was worth a shot.

She went over there, a cookie still in hand. She stood in silence for a few moments, chewing on the aforementioned sweet.

Before Brent could go further down the rabbit hole that was 'how to make 5m of unbreakable rope useful', the blonde head of Savannah popped up once more, and he grinned, waving her over. "Yo, Sav, beans and cheese weren't enough after all?"

Sav? Where had that come from? It was usually Savi or Anna, even though she absolutely despised it when people called her the latter. "In all my life, I have never heard someone call me 'Sav'. " she commented rather dryly. After that, she added "Eh, I'm just hungry. And these cookies looked good."

"There's a first for everything," he said, before tilting his head towards the others, "Anyways, found our teammates. Emma and Ernie, though you could have guessed that probably. Been talking about powers and all that, so hey, what's yours?"

"Well, my power is a countering power, I guess. I charge my magic into someone, or something, and it creates a... sigil? Symbol? Something like that." she paused for a second, scrounging around for words in her brain. "Then, if they activate their power, it goes off. Like an explosion. Yeah, an explosion." she finished her short description, looking up at Emma And Ernie. Tall. They were really tall. That was the first thing she noticed.

"Oh, geez, that sounds lethal."

"It really depends on the power of the spell they're using. And, I can only do it on contact."

Huh. So she didn't have some sort of nightmarish explosive power that Angel had warned him about. A slow, a snare, and now a trap. He dwelled on that for a bit. Lots of peel, essentially.

Emma glanced over her new teammate as they talked about her power. She was… incredibly cute. Total little sister status. she commented to herself. She was tempted to ask how old she was, but it seemed imprudent given the strategic talk. Was USARILN East really picking up little kids though? She sighed, ”Hmmmm… so it could just like, injure them, possibly? We could always toss it on them and pull the ‘haha, if you pull out your big magic you’ll die’ although I doubt Daisy would approve.” Yeah, she wasn’t sure how useful Sav would be.

She almost face-palmed, remembering something important. Of course! It was just a firecracker. "It's-it's just a firecracker. But I've only tried it on those monsters we fought the other day, and I don't think they were casting very strong spells." she answered, hopefully clearing up any implications that some would die.

Oh, a firecracker. That was...way less lethal then. Really, once adrenaline started pumping, that'd probably just become a minor nuisance. "It'd definitely be good for a surprise, but after that, they'll generally understand how it'd work, huh?"

”Well, at least we’re not going to kill anybody. Probably just singe them a little… I was thinking we could do a killer trap with Ernie’s freeze and long range summons, but I’m not really sure how the firecracker is going to factor in.” She shrugged, a little disappointed that they wouldn’t have a reliable method of finding the healers- it looked like it was going to come down to combat.

"Maybe distractions? Or a surprise? Firecrackers always manage to scare me on 4th Julys." Savannah said, replying to Emma's comment. Really, firecrackers always did manage to scare her.

"Hm...perhaps a different question then. Who here has SEEN your power at work, Savannah?"

"No one on our team, but Zoe has. She's not very pleasant though. I wouldn't exactly recommend speaking to her."

"Eh, Zoe seemed fine to me when I talked with her," Brent mused, "Perhaps you caught her at a bad time? ...but huh, you know their powers? 'They' being Allison, Zoe, Lawrence."

Hmmmm… That was a good question. Emma wasn’t sure how good of a look Hazel had gotten of her Tulpas. ”They might vaguely know mine too, but not the specifics. I’m not sure if Hazel saw anything when I was running around. We’re still at an advantage information wise… by the way, do you know what Zoe and Allison do, Savannah?”

Savannah nodded. She knew what Zoe and Allison did, due to their brief teaming up. She struggled to recall details from their short conversations on the truck ride. "Well, Zoe, she can break things down. I think it's only living things, though. It's pretty lethal, but she has to have skin contact. I'd recommend not letting her touch you." she shivered for a second.

"Allison's ability- well, she can summon a blade that can cut through things that aren't living. Which, of course, are your flags. She said it only lasts for a minute last time we met, but it takes three minutes to recharge."

As Savannah began shooting off everything she knew about their powers, Brent's mouth dropped. Holy shit, this was filling up all the unknowns that they were worried about. Clasping two hands onto the smaller girl's shoulders, his amethyst eyes sparkled as he said, "Holy shit, you're awesome."

Savannah was initially alarmed by Brent touching her. She was about ready to give him a piece of her mind, when he openly proclaimed that she was awesome. Her own yellow eyes sparkled, and her bored look opened into a broad smile. "R-really? I'm awesome?" she squeaked. The compliment had been unexpected, but everyone liked compliments. She was almost bouncing on her feet.

Emma glanced at Zoe and Allison. ”Zoe sounds really dangerous, but maybe not in a situation like this, considering we’re going non-lethal. Allison will be a problem though… it’d be best to keep at a range. But yeah, Sav, you’re awesome.” Emma idly said. She couldn't resist egging the clearly excited girl on. But she was a little dissapointed, it was sounding more and more like it was up to her to carry. She glanced at Ernie. Hmmmm... do I really want this guy to win?

Ernie returned her glance, unaware of the machinations she had planned.

"You want us to split up? Take out one each?" he asked.

"Yup, Emma's our VIP, but Sav, you pretty much determined our plan of action here," Brent said, "And no, splitting up is pointless. From what I can tell...Allison and Zoe are dangerous in multiple ways, but basically only in close-range ways. I say we start off fast and try to take down Hazel immediately with uh...big tanky person there. If no one on their team has a feasible method of catching up, we can really just sit on our numerical advantage from that point on and time them out."

"Of course, if Lawrence has a shotgun, that'd be a problem, but it wouldn't be a game-changing one."

"Yeah, I'm awesome!" Savannah yelled, pumping her fists in the air, jumping a bit. She was really hyped now.

Ernie had been content with sitting back and letting the others talk strategy. He'd never been the guy that did the thinking. Or the guy who actually went along with the thinking. But with such a solid plan and excitement buliding from his teammates, he couldn't help but get hyped too.

"Hahaha! This is gonna be pretty fun!" Ernie beamed.

Emma’s smile widened. It wasn’t the practiced smile, it was the real thing. Sav was absolutely adorable, Emma really just wanted to hug her. And as for Ernie, well, his excitement would make his disappointment all the better if Emma did end up following through with the little plan forming in her head. ”Yeah, it’ll be fun as long as we don’t end up getting wrecked by Hazel’s power. That would probably end in another hospital visit.” She mused. Once again, Emma doubted that Hazel would have any remorse ab- what the hell was Hazel doing?

She had glanced over at the strange girl as she was thinking about her, and she was… undressing? She’d walked around naked in the dorm, which was already all kinds of weird, but this was… well. Emma look towards Sav. She didn’t need to see whatever this was. Emma stood up, clasping her hand over Savannah’s eyes. ”Sorry Sav.” She said as she interrupted her celebration.

”Hazel! What are you doing?!” Emma called to her from across the room.

"Hey! Get your hands off of me!" Savannah shouted, her mood changing. She attempted to pry Emma's hand from her face, but then caught a look at a stripping girl. She let Emma's hand cover her face. "I'm fine with your hands on my eyes as long as I don't have to see that." She said, shivering a bit, her mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Looks like Angelic's got competition."

Callan positioned herself several yards in front of her other teammates, crouched in anticipation. Her eyes locked onto Sander, though she was sure to remain aware of the others-- namely Marcus with his higher mobility. As much as she liked the guy, this was a competition-- a place where crushes and friends didn't exist. Years of competitive sports had instilled her with this truth.

She waited to see what Sander would do first. Even if she was fast enough to bum rush him while he was still surrounded by his teammates, she still didn't know exactly how strong he was. Until she got a chance to gauge Sander's strength, she would have to be careful not to go too try-hard while also being sure not to underestimate him. A frustrating conundrum and one that would possibly cost her a flag, but she didn't want a repeat of the Kusari episode.

By the time the ‘Go’ signal was given, Sander had already finished his last canister. He stalked to the middle of the field, crumpled metal canister in one hand while wiping at his mouth with the other. His steps were slow at first, before he broke into a sprint then stopped at midfield, crimson eyes watching the opposite team intently. His eyes landed on the dragon at first, moved to the aquamarine-haired girl then finally, his other roommate, Kusari.

He forced himself to wait for a moment. No one moved toward him. For a moment, he floundered. He didn’t know how to fight, and…not fight. He wasn’t sure how to face an opponent, and…not kill them. The blood high came in just on time though, and it cut through all his hesitation like a blade. Before he knew it, Sander took a quick step forward, then threw the empty canister at Chris’ dragon form, a grunt escaped his lips as he put force behind the throw.

“What are you waiting for?”- He roared in the air, eyes turning toward Callan and Kusari –“Come and get it!”

Callan's smirk almost broke into a laugh. He was egging her on? She hadn't taken him for such a cocky bastard, but then-- she noted his red eyes, vaguely remembering how they had been blue before-- hasty conclusions were a bad habit. Despite the temptation, she remained still, waiting for him to make the first move. Of course, she wasn't going to punch him like she had Kusari, but a good shove should help her figure out how much he could take.

"I'm waiting for you, pretty boy!" Callan beckoned, "Afraid you'll lose to a girl?" She moved her elbows away from her body and dug her tennis shoe into the dirt, ready to spring at him if her taunt should fail. As much as she didn't want to be on offense first, she wanted to waste time even less. One good shove-- then she'd know.

The canister would bounce off the dragon's skull. Though it didn't offer any injury, the annoyance caused Chris's eyes to open up, widened with anger as he'd stand up, letting out a similar but shorter roar then last time. The dragon would snort before charging towards Sander, leaving behind his flags for a moment as his eyes were glowing with red hatred. Chris moved past Callan in a full-sprinting speed, then would leap into the air, going above Sander and landing behind him.

Chris would then let out a third roar directly towards Sander, then charged again. Chris was still in control, he could keep himself from trying to kill Sander for the moment. The dragon would lean its head down so its hard skull and the dull sides of its horns were facing Sander. He was sprinting in the right angle that, if successful, would push Sander towards Callan.

Her eyes widened in shock as the dragon flew past. She'd seen Sander throw the canister, but she didn't think...

"CHRIS!" she called out, knowing it was probably futile. The dragon was already leaping over Sander and if all it took was a piece of trash to piss him off, she doubted he was about to stop on her account.

The dragon’s roars heralded its rage, and Sander felt it was calling out for something primal in him. He bared his teeth; not quite a grin, yet not quite a snarl, then twisted out of the way just as the horns were heading his way. He immediately moved in and grabbed a hold of one horn right afterward, before heaving himself upward, landing on the dragon’s back. With his feet firmly planted on the scaly surface, he clenched both hands and struck downward.

Blood sprouted from the dragon's mouth as the fists of Sanders broke through plates of natural armor and created a massive gash of a wound on his back. The sudden burst of pain and injury threw Chris off guard as he started to loose his balance in his sprint. The momentarily dazed, Chris tried to make the best of this incident by taking another leap as he lost his footing, causing him to turn upside down just before landing near Callan, so that even if Sander avoided getting crushed, he'd be next to his actual opponent.

The sudden lunge prompted Sander to grip onto a bloody scale to stay on the dragon, but the rough landing threw him off. The muscle memory of last time leaping off the dragon’s back still fresh, but it didn’t help much when Sander was sent sprawling on the ground, his back colliding with the hard cement. He quickly moved to stand up, crimson eyes already locked on the dragon for the next charge.

Seizing her opportunity, Callan sprinted forward, colliding with Sander before he could finish pulling himself to his feet.

"Get back to your flags, Chris!" she shouted at him in frustration, driving Sander's shoulders into the ground as she straddled him. Once he was down, she grasped his wrists, trying to pin them next to his head. Turning her attention back to Sander, her mind was racing. What the fuck? Not even a minute into the fight and there was already blood. The force of Sander's attack on Chris had been surprisingly brutal. Maybe he was just trying to knock the dragon out? Didn't know his own strength?

She felt her face flush as, for the briefest moment, her brain acknowledged the position she was currently in relative to Sander's body, but she managed to push it to the back of her mind. She eyed Sander's flags, but didn't want to risk letting go of his wrists until Chris was out of the picture.

Chris slowly stood up. The wound wasn't serious on its own, but with cracked armor that spot served as a vulnerable area. Shaking his snout, Chris turned to his treasure hoard of flags, sprinting back towards it.

Angel watched from afar as she was running towards where the action was taking place. Sander sure was quick enough to get ahead of his team and initiate the flag battle. Seeing how it went, it would seem like part of their initial plans was going down to the drain. Still, there may yet be something to be done about this whole situation.

"Marc, make a run for Kusari, with the intent of grabbing her flags. When you get next to her, flash forward behind Callan instead. Grab her ankle flags and try to startle her." She ordered as she turned to Marcus.

"Aye aye, Captain!" Marcus said, running beside her and giving a quick salute. There'd probably be a few alterations to that plan; namely the fact that he didn't want to end up right in between the two strongest people while they were fighting. Callan had almost knocked his face off his skull once today, and that wasn't a position he relished putting himself in again. 'No lethal moves' gave him some comfort, but it wouldn't help him when she accidentally shoved an elbow through his head. So, Marcus switched up the order a bit. Instead of going for Kusari and trying to catch Callan off guard, he was going to try and catch Callan off guard, and then head for Kusari.

"Grant, follow me. You said your chains can pick up nonliving objects, right? Think you could grab a few flags from afar with them?" Angel then turned to Grant, who had remained quiet for the most part.

Grant had been standing idly by before Angel, was her name Angel? Yeah, he thought so. Angel spoke to him. For a few moments he was silent before he spoke up to her. "Yeah, I probably can." He'd answer, his chains appearing behind him.

As for Angélique, she went forward, keeping an eye on Siena and Kusari. The latter may not hold any special offensive or mobility powers, but she still was not someone to be forgotten. One slip of the mind and she could take advantage of it.

Reaching a somewhat close distance to where the dragon was hoarding his flags. Angel started to shout. Her voice wasn't strong enough yet to damage anything, but her intention was to shake him off his place. If he wouldn't move still, then she'd just increase the volume.

Just as Chris reached his flags, A deafening shout shook his posture. Turning to find Angel screaming at him, Chris let loose another roar. Chris would then spew flames from his mouth, spraying it not at Angel but in a sideways trail in front of her, creating a smokescreen-esque effect of fire and smoke to obscure her visuals of Chris and his flags. He then sprinted from his position, Leaping through the wall of fire and smoke he created with his breath and directly in front of angel, and immediately lunged his tail forward to strike the flag off Angel's chest.

Just as Chris had created a wall of fire in front of them, smokescreen and blocked out vision, Angélique had stopped screaming. She turned her head to Grant. "Callan's chest and head flags, Grant. Now!" She ordered Grant. She had barely caught sight of the airborne dragon above his smoky wall of flames.

When he dropped in front of her with a thud and shot out his tail towards her chest, panic suddenly shaken the girl from her composed and calculating spirit. In a flash, she saw the monster that was standing in front of her, intending to stab her heart with its tail. Instinctively, she brought her arm in front of her chest to shield her body, and screamed. The fear that had taken hold of her made her forget the Dragon in front of her was a classmate. The scream she had let out to move the Dragon from his spot couldn't be compared to the shriek of terror that just came out from the frightened black-haired Angel. It was the unbridled power of an ear-ravaging screech that was directed to the dragon standing mere feet away from her.

Grant had followed Angel's lead, as she had said to do. Then the dragon came to play, and he tried not to get too close to the action there. A battle between the screamer and the god damn dragon. Actually, that sounded familiar. He had no time to dwell on that thought as Angel had just gave him something to do. He shrugged, "Sure," and sent out his chains toward his target. Callan, his former teammate and now enemy. His chains darted separately, for the chest and head flags as directed.

Marcus grinned as he looked upon his current target: Callan was currently straddling Sander. An effective, if compromising position. It wouldn't take too long for him to run past; all he was doing was trying to throw Callan off enough for Sander to get the upper hand. But, the urge to meddle was just too tempting. So, without stopping, Marcus ran by the two figures.

"Try not to have too much fun, you guys!" he shouted, taking advantage of Callan restraining Sander and trying to swipe the flag that almost blended in with her hair.

Marcus' words ran through her train of thought like a conniving lasso, bringing her more embarrassing thoughts back to the forefront of her mind. It was enough to make her flustered, but not enough to get her to give up the advantage of her position-- not yet anyway. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hand reaching for the flag around her head and ducked sideways, loosening her grip on one of Sander's wrists in the process.

Damn - missed it. Oh well. He'd done his job, now he locked eyes to his next target: Kusari, the raptor girl.



Callan was faster and stronger than he had ever thought. Before he knew it, he was pinned to the ground, the scent of fizzy drink filled the air as the aquamarine-haired girl lean over. Fortunately, Marcus was there to back him up. As soon as he felt Callan’s weight shifted and her grip loosened, he followed the movement with his hips, intending to push her off balance. All the while, he yanked his left hand free and made a grab for the collar of her hoodie, fingers brushing the skin beneath as he pulled her down.

Feeling the unnatural warmth of his skin against her neck, her eyes widened with surprise and she tried to pull away, grasping the assailing wrist that had broken free. Her movement only served to help Sander in his attempt to throw her off balance and her weight shifted far enough to the side for him to do just that. He was definitely stronger than the average person-- though not quite as strong as she'd been expecting (hoping?). With a baffled glare, she couldn't quite find the words to ask what the hell he was doing. You're supposed to grab the flags, creep! she wanted to scream, but was too busy prying his hand off of her hoodie without tearing the fabric. Managing to slip her fingers between his and the collar, she forced his hand away. Fingers interlocked, she mentally swore.

Sander struggled harder beneath Callan, throwing his weight around until she was no longer looming above him. For all his effort, Callan was more powerful than him, and that only spurred the thirst on. Like a cornered beast, his power lashed out, engulfing them both in a red glow as the blood siphon was set in motion. He blinked, eyes wide as warmth seeped into his skin, pulling his right hand from her grip as if it burnt him. Scrambling to his feet hastily, he dashed a few steps backward, eyes still on Callan, a curious mixture of rage and confusion clouded his expression.

Her grip tightened around the flag around Sander's left wrist as he knocked her off, tearing it away. Getting back to her feet, she looked down at the flag in her hand, noticing the red glow that engulfed her as well as Sander. Something felt... off. Like a gradual chill. She tried to ignore it, dropping the flag to the ground as she darted towards him, pretending to reach for the flag around his chest from his left, but keeping her eyes on his opposite wrist. He'd try to block her for sure, which would possibly allow her to grab his arm and claim his other wrist flag.

When Sander saw Callan move toward him, he turned to face her fully, red eyes gleaming as he moved to meet her half-way. He noticed the outstretched hand, but paid it no mind as he charged, intending to slam his entire body into her, his own hands reached for her soft fle—flags. Flags. The flag around her head. He hastily adjusted his gaze.

"For sure" huh? Again with the hasty assumptions, Cal. This guy was something else. Callan ducked and pivoted out of the way, not unlike a matador might do with a bull while swinging her hand aligned with her pivot foot forward, accidentally grabbing a fistful of Sander's shirt as well as the flag around his chest. Once past him, she kicked her foot out, hoping to catch the back of Sander's calf just enough to throw off his balance as the momentum from his charge continued to carry him forward.

Again, from the corner of her eye, she saw something coming at her. This time it was a chain-- Grant. She spun sideways, swatting at the two incoming chains, but her arm passed right through them. Shit. He went straight for the head and chest. The pitiful sound of velcro filled her ears as the two flags were knocked off her person. She grit her teeth in frustration-- what was she supposed to do against THAT? Her eyes fell on Grant. Sander would have to wait. She couldn't let him sit back and rip all her flags off that easily. She took off towards Grant. If she could just reach him, she could tear all of his flags off with no trouble at all.

The sound of torn fabric filled his ears, but he was already beyond caring at this point. His fingers caught air as he stumbled forward, reeling from the momentum of his own movement. The ground rushed up at him, but he steadied himself on one arm and one knee, before standing right up again. He turned around, only to find his pr—opponent moving in another direction. With gritted teeth, he sprung after her, arms wide open in preparation for a tackle.

Give me a break.

"Rrgh." The pair hit the ground hard, tumbling several yards across the plaza. Having the wind knocked out of her, Callan found herself being the one sprawled out on the ground this time. Blinking up at the red-eyed Sander, she took a second to catch her breath.

The chains reeled back to their owner quickly, and both of the flags landed straight back into Grant's hand. That dealt with that. The next moment, he was looking ahead and seeing an impending truck full of pain coming toward him nonstop with the name Callan. He was ready to have his chains dart out once more, but it seemed that was unnecessary. His teammate lunged out and they both tumbled to the ground. That was that. Grant could guess that Angel was in no condition to give orders at the time, so he just went ahead and let his chains dart ahead immediately, going their separate ways for both of Callan's ankles as Sander had her pinned.

Sander gripped Callan’s neck with his left hand, fingers digging into her flesh. He lifted then his right fist and struck down, aiming for the aquamarine-haired girl’s face.

As her head turned sharply from the impact, Callan could feel the same gradual chill from before. It crept over her lungs, which were still screaming for air, over the pain in her neck and newly busted lip, and over her hand as she weakly reached up to grab Sander's wrist as if searching for something to anchor herself. Her head was reeling and she could taste blood in her mouth. Opening her eyes, she saw Grant's hazy figure and two more chains snaking towards her feet-- looking to take two more flags, no doubt....

No. No fucking way. All at once, Callan's grip around Sander's wrist tightened. I'm not losing that easily, she internally growled. Pushing out some of the blood that had gathered in her mouth, Callan grabbed Sander's free hand with her own, shoving both of his arms away from her. She glared furiously as she put more force into one shoulder, trying to turn him enough to get a leg free.

Callan struggled beneath him, and Sander knew enough that he couldn’t hold on to her for long. He fought each and every one of her movement, even when it was obvious that the odds weren’t in his favour. When he felt the world tilted as Callan pushed him off, he leaned in, going for that exposed flesh connecting Callan’s neck to her shoulder, teeth gleaming.

Her back arched suddenly and she screamed, less from the pain, though it definitely did hurt as his teeth broke the skin, and more from surprise. What the fuck was he doing?! Her question answered itself as she felt the chilling sensation suddenly pick up the pace. That red aura... she was-- she was losing blood? "GET--" Callan released one of Sander's hands, balled up her fist and drove it into the side of his head, "--OFF!!"

The impact to his temple effectively threw Sander onto the ground, where he landed heavily on his side. With a short tumble, he ended up on his back, one hand pressed against his face, as if trying to soothe the ringing in his ears. He blinked a few times, eyes unfocused, before eventually turning to his side in an attempt to get up.

Grant could see see the struggle between Callan and Sander nearby. In the meantime, his chains had sped to the former's ankle flags, ripping them off. Without a second thought, as the aquamarine haired girl slammed her fist into his teammate's head, his chains dropped the ripped-off flags instantly and went for the two remaining flags on her wrists, homing in quickly from her ankles, up.

No, no, no, no. Aggravated and flustered in equal amounts, Callan scrambled to her feet and towards Sander's ankles. She hastily ripped the velcro flags off as if they were simply in the way before gripping his ankles under his pant legs while awkwardly side stepping to properly position herself. She tucked her busted lower lip into her mouth as she stared at Grant while swinging Sander's body sideways, exhaling sharply through her nose. She spun around once before launching vampire boy towards Grant, immediately dashing after him.

Grant had had been focusing on her wrists, but her frantic movements away from his chains made it so he couldn't land them... wait, she was pulling Sander's flags off, and then... shit. Shit, this was bad. He knew what she was going to do. His focus instantly shifted when Callan grabbed Sander's ankles. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as she stared at him. There wasn't enough time. The concrete was just coming up to form a thick wall as she swung, spinning. It was almost up just as Sander was flung. One of his chains sprung from the concrete, the process even more draining. The first thing he focused on about Sander's flying body was where the chains made contact. His pants. He willed them to stay in place as his other chain pulled the concrete up, that familiar weight against his entire body. He could only hope it was thick enough.

Firm hands gripped his ankles and before Sander could protest, he was airborne, flying backward at breakneck speed. He caught the sound of tearing fabric once again and a small part of him was vaguely concerned. At least until his back hit something hard. The impact rattled every bone in his body, the noise reminding him of sledge hammers being brought against cement pavements. Pain radiated through him, but he pummeled through it, crazed eyes locked onto Callan still. He twisted, getting himself out of the dent he made on the wall, then landed on his knees and arms. It took barely a moment for him to shake off the shock, then resumed charging at Callan.

"No," Callan grumbled as Sander crossed her path yet again, just before she could finish closing the short gap between herself and newly annoying wall Grant was hiding behind. As much as she wanted to keep tussling with Count Crazy, she needed to put a stop to those chains. She tucked her shoulder and flung her arm across her body to knock him out of her way.

The blow slammed against Sander’s midsection, sending him a few steps backward. However the blood mage recovered quickly and resumed his charge, eyes glued on the spot of red on Callan’s neck. Both of his arms were outstretched as he lunged toward the girl.

Hm... Sander seemed to be getting stronger. She'd expected that blow to send him a lot further than it did. And then there was still this wall to deal with.... Callan turned to face Sander in a crouch, waiting until just the right moment before grabbing one of his outstretched forearms. She stepped out of the way, using his own momentum to slam him into the concrete wall and flipping him onto his back in the process.

Just as Callan made a grab for his arm, he lunged forward with the other, grabbing her upper arm while his caught arm twisted in her grip and tried to grab her right back. Soon though, he was slammed against the wall once again. His breath hitched, but his grips didn’t loosen one bit. As bits of crumbling concrete fell on both of them, Sander planted his feet firmly against the ground, throwing his entire weight against Callan.

Panic. Grant stumbled back a bit as the wall began to crumble. His defenses were crumbling. Callan was aggressive. He just needed to get her wrist flags. His eyes quickly darted around in panic before he realized what was in contact with his chain. Quickly, the plan was concocted. And instantly, it was put into action. With Callan now in sight, and Sander grappling onto her, Grant's remaining chain darted to Sander's pants that hung in the air with the other chain, making contact. The remains of the wall crumbled, and as it did, the chains reeled back, lowering, in level with Callan's head. In one swift movement, they pressed against her face. The chains in contact with both ends of the pants, and they wrapped around her head, manipulating them so they would merge into one singular, tight wrap around her head, and against her face, to make sure that it would be extremely difficult to get off. Grant was ready to take those remaining flags from her.

Callan wasn't about to let Sander get on top of her again just like that. Widening her stance, she skidded back a few feet, locking Sander in a awkward grappling match as the pair collided. With arms busy keeping Sander from doing whatever it was he was trying to do-- she wasn't sure what his objective was after getting nailed in the face-- she was once again powerless to stop Grant from doing whatever he wanted. Which, at this point, appeared to be wrapping what could only be, judging from the denim texture and the bare legs of her opponent, Sander's pants.

It was claustrophobic and exacerbating and embarrassing and a slew of other things she was trying to focus on besides describing it as 'smelly'. It wasn't an unpleasant smell-- a mixture of cologne and... something else. If she had to explain it, she'd say 'natural musk', but she didn't want to explain it. She wanted it off of her face.

Panicked, she bent her knees and jumped as high as she dared. She could feel the ground giving beneath her feet as she launched herself. Hopefully this would be enough to get out of range from Grant (assuming he had a range) and free an arm from Sander so she could pull the pants off of her face.

That seemed to do it. Callan seemed caught off guard from the jeans that had just been wrapped around her head suddenly. This was Grant's chance. Or so he thought. He was confused from Callan bending her knees until she shot herself off the ground. Shit, he couldn't let her get away from his range. He could've just let it be, but he knew that she would be persistent.

She had to be stopped, now or never.

A moment after she shot into the air, as she reached for the pants wrapped around her head, before she could get too far, Grant had his chains reel in a small amount before pulling the jeans that were wrapped around her head toward the weight of Sander, who was still grappling onto her, to pull the both of them back down to the earth below them. A moment after, he watched as the two subnaturals shoot back down into the earth with a mighty thud. That HAD to have dazed her somewhat. Grant began to make his way to the small crater that they had just made in the concrete. He needed to grab those flags quick.

As soon as they both hit the ground, Sander was already shrugging off the worst of the impact. He pushed at Callan’s arm in another attempt to get the higher ground, while raising his right fist, slamming it down on her obscured face.

He achieved this easily as Callan frantically tried to pull at the magically adhered fabric to no avail, disorientated from the failed jump and being yanked to the ground by her head. At first she paid little attention to Sander's weight on top of her, panicking more over the pants until something hard collided with her cheekbone. She shouted out in alarm and vexation, throwing a blind arm across her body, hoping to hit Sander.

Around the edges of her body, something dark began to pool like inky black liquid.

Sander landed another punch, seemingly wild with bloodlust. Callan's stray arm struck his shoulder, but he recovered soon enough.

Harder this time, the side of her head throbbed horribly. The sound of Sander's breathing was quieter... everything was getting quieter. A-am I gonna pass out? Then she felt it. It wasn't a physical feeling-- just something she knew. The inky black liquid surrounding her seemed to be getting more solid.

"S-stop!" she shouted, her voice muffled from the fabric as she tried to warn him.

A third blow was on its way, but at the last second, it landed on the cement, inches away from Callan’s head. Stop, somewhere in his head, a voice echoed. His. He remembered. This was a game. It ended. He had to stop.

“Stop! Fucking stop!”- Pressing both hands against his face, he growled into them –“Stop it!”

Almost immediately, the glow around them dissipated.

The impact of Sander's fist in the ground by her head allowed her a sigh of relief, but it wasn't over yet. It was still there. Waiting for a reason to come out. At least Sander seemed... preoccupied. Unable to see, she wasn't sure what was going on-- if someone had grabbed him or if he was talking to himself. She lifted her head and tugged at Sander's pants hopefully-- still stuck. Letting her head fall back she tried to calm down and focus on her breathing, which by now had grown a bit uneven and ragged. She balled her hands up into fists and pressed them against her forehead, dealing with her own inner demon.

Grant was witnessing Sander beating Callan a couple times over the head as he was jogging over. Just as he got there, the struggling between the two seemed to stop, only to be replaced by internal struggling. He didn't even realize how heavy his own breaths were after he had just jogged over. He had his mind set on what to do. He walked over to the pair, and he reached down to her wrists that were, fortunately for him, close together, and ripped both of them off. She was out. Grant tossed the flags aside as he let out one last breath before his chains retracted from the jeans that were wrapped around Callan's head. The moment they did, they lost their tight, wrapping properties and merely laid on top of her face, loosely.



This fight was already a mess. Siena had already vanished into thin air, likely to find Christmas, but Chris had been baited out of position and was now already suffering from a major wound as a result. She would have a little talk with him later, right now she had her eyes focused on the other team. Sander was currently being dealt with by Callan. She would help her in a moment, right now she had to deal with scarface over here, heading towards her like a man on a mission. Instead of waiting for him to come to her, she sprinted towards him. Using her malformed leg, she was able to close the distance in a speed that was likely unwavering. She looked as if she were about to kick Marcus, however she jumped at the last moment to plant her clawed foot on his chest. Her aim was his flag, so her claws were positioned to tear it away. She paid attention to her own flags, making sure not to leave any obvious openings.

Marcus slowed down a bit as Kusari came rushing at him, far faster than he'd been expecting her to with her freaky leg. Seemed like the asymmetry wasn't bothering her one bit. Almost too late, he realized that he was about to literally get his ass kicked, and he angled his body so the left side of him would take the full force of the impact. It was only when Kusari jumped that he realized she wasn't going to kick him after all, but was instead going to plant her feet directly into him. Her leg hit him firmly in the arm, and pain ricocheted through him like an electric current. Far more pain than he expected.

His intention had been to reach up with his free arm and grab the flag around her leg, but the sickening sound of his humerus snapping like a twig and the uncontrollable cry of pain that escaped his mouth quickly blew all his thoughts of strategy out the window. Now, as he hit the ground and rolled, the same electricity sparking through him with every inch he tumbled, his arm reflexively grabbed where Kusari's foot had just bent him like a plastic straw. The sound of static immediately filled his ears, and anybody nearby would hear the same sound, seemingly coming from the spot Marcus had just been standing previously.

He disappeared out from underneath Kusari, reappearing in the same spot that the static was coming from. His arm had fortunately downgraded from 'excruciating pain', to a more manageable 'blinding pain'. His arm still dangled loosely, but not jutting at the odd angle it had been previously. He shuddered as his body evaluated the new, slightly healed injury, making a mental note: some injuries, but not all injuries. Good to know.

He wanted to scream, and he wanted to cuss out the crazy fucking bitch that had just broken his goddamn arm, but he kept it all inside himself. Seemed like this friendly game of Flag and Seek wasn't going to be as 'friendly' as he'd originally hoped.

Kusari raised a brow as Marcus suddenly blinked from his position, an audible static accompanying it. She had heard he could do something like this, but seeing it was still surprising. It seemed she had broken his arm when he moved it to intercept her attack, glancing down she could see that the flag on that arm had been ripped off and was now under her clawed foot. At least there was that.

She didn't think about lingering on regretting her fellow student's injury, instead she ruthlessly rushed him down. She moved her hands to grab his head, and pulling it down raised her leg to force it collide with her knee. At the same time she attempted to snatch away the flag on his head.

Alright, round two. Marcus organized his strategy in his head; as soon as she got close, he was gonna flash, and try and snag the flag off her leg, since that was the most likely part to be coming at him. He focused, waited for the right moment to try and block her incoming attack with his arm. Or that's what he would have done had his arm actually come up to defend himself once again. It wasn't as healed as he thought, and that left him with an inability to block as intended.

He had a brief moment of useless flailing to realize his mistake, before he felt her hands on the back of his head, and saw the rapidly approaching knee. In a mere instant, pain blossomed across his face, and the world spiraled as stars flashed across his eyes. He stepped back to collect himself, feeling the flag around his head rip off as he did. The world seemed to double for a moment; tears welling up in his eyes and the blood pouring out of his nose. He staggered back for a moment, reaching for a rewind that wasn't there.

Alright. Now he was pissed. He readied up his next move. It wasn't going to be nice; the time for a nice fun game was over. Hopefully, his slightly staggered stance (and completely on purpose, yeah, totally.) would scream 'easy prey', or else he'd have to improvise. Time to see what this thing can do..

Kusari blinked at the second of Marcus's flags. Taking them had been a bit too easy so far. Was she perhaps taking this test more seriously than the others? She looked at Marcus, his arm was a mess, and his nose was leaking red. She was trying to knee his forehead, she must have missed. It wasn't as if she enjoyed hurting him, she just felt compelled to win this test. As if it would prove something.

"That looks pretty bad. Once we find Lily I'll ask her to transfer your wounds to me. But first, I'm going to need the rest of your flags, Marcus." She walked over to him, expecting him to not be in good enough shape to fight back. She reached for the flag on his chest, intending to yank it away.

Marcus stood still, eyeing her cautiously as she approached. He was waiting for the sudden burst of speed, another blow to head to come flying at him, but it didn't. He almost felt bad for what was about to happen next. Almost. He gave his bloodied face a quick wipe, offering the girl a pained smile as she calmly walked up to him.

"It's fine, just consider us even." he said, prepping the jump.

Her calm approach had made it easy. She was wide open and right next to him when he activated it; chest, head, and then head again. In a brief moment, where time seemed to stop, Marcus made his move. He snatched the flag from Kusari's chest, snatched the one from her head, and then did something that was probably unnecessary, but damn did it feel good:

He decked her square in the face. A nose for a nose.

The sound of static ended slightly to the right of Kusari, and Marcus breathed heavily as drips of crimson spattered on the ground. His good hand held two of Kusari's flags, and he eyed her cautiously, waiting to see what kind of effect the punch had on her. It wasn't for vengeance, he reminded himself. It was breaking even - all part of the game.

"Oh..." Kusari was currently looking up at the sky, her head having been knocked backwards by Marcus. Her nose bled for a few moments before being surrounded by her signature dim light. She couldn't tell what exactly it was she was feeling at the moment. Shame? Embarrassment? She sat down on the ground, and looked at her right leg. No, she was just angry to the point that it had boiled over into a stoic calm. "I've been wondering about this for a while... Guess I'll try it out now. Good thing I'm flexible." She said positioning her right leg over her left arm. Just below the elbow she sliced her own arm off with no hesitation.

The limb fell to the ground with a disturbing thud as blood began to pour out like a macabre fountain. The pain sent a wave of nausea through her head, almost causing her to go into shock. But she didn't. Her body was stronger than that wasn't it? Next was her right arm, which would be a bit more difficult. Due to the awkward angle she had to slam her arm against the talons on her right leg. It took three times to sever the arm completely, by this point she was covered in the splatter of her own blood, and her teeth were chattering as she shivered in pain.

Marcus stood dumbfounded. Of all the things he expected Kusari to do after being punched in the face, this was not it. He wasn't sure how he felt about the whole situation. The way she brought her own arm down on the talons threatened to make him sick. The ease at which her talons sliced through muscle, the blood pouring out of her, and the sound of tearing flesh was not doing anything to help with that. He'd have been traumatized if he didn't know that her arms would grow back, but even still...the utter ruthlessness of it made him shiver with an emotion that he couldn't quite put his finger on. A mixture of fear and confusion, perhaps. Plus, there was the matter of what the hell he was supposed to do in this whole situation. Should he call for help? Should he grab her flags while she was dismembering herself? Did he need to even grab her flags if she tore her entire arm off her body? Was the fight going to end if she just ripped herself to shreds?

"Hey...uh...Ref?" he said softly, looking down to his leg. The question was directed at his ankle cuff, as he figured that'd be the most likely place somebody would be listening from. "What...er...what exactly should I do about this?"

The boy's cuff beeped loudly. "I spy two wrists with flags still on them, Mr. Howell. Thought you knew how to play this game?" Beep.

Marcus sneered his face at the cuff in disgust. "Aw god...you're gonna make me grab the flags off her dismembered arm?" he said, sighing loudly. Apparently the game was still going, even though Kusari was now 50% more stumpy. He inched closer to one of the discarded arms, trying to judge her movements so he wouldn't get another swat to the face. When he felt he was safe, he leaned forward real quick to grab the entire limb, and jumped backwards.

The next few moments were spent girlishly flailing the arm around, trying to get the velcro to loosen without actually touching the limb. Such a task was made even more difficult by the lack of extra available arm he had, but after a while, the sound of ripping velcro awarded him the fruit of his labor. A single extra point. One gross, horrifying point. He left the arm where it lay, looking towards the next one. Something caught his eye, however; Kusari's stumps were...sizzling?

"K-Kusari...are you gonna be...okay?" he hesitantly asked, looking her in the eyes and taking a few steps backwards.

But it turned out to be worth it. Her left arm grew back into something that surprised her, it grew into a tentacle. The feeling of this near alien appendage growing almost made her vomit, it was as if the pale red tentacle was sizzling into place in a foam of hydrochloric acid. This could be... handy. But she'd rather have another actual hand to work with.

Ask and you shall receive apparently. Her right arm grew into something resembling her leg. The new flesh of her arm was smooth and the same color of her skin, but it was a bit bulkier. The circumference had increased basically. As for her hand, the top of it and the palm looked horrible. The bones in her hand had thickened, and were clearly visible, and there were smooth red claws where her fingers should be. The transformation of her body complete, she found herself letting out a chuckle. She really did look like a monster.

She turned her head towards Marcus, her red eyes like that of a beast. "What was it you said? Consider us even?" She flashed a toothy grin. "I have no intention of making this even."

Marcus had identified the feeling that rose in his gut. It was definitely fear.



The scream that Angel delivered stopped the dragon dead in its tracks, even causing him to recoil as the sound petrified and shook the beast, pressing him to the ground. The dragon would writhe and thrash about before going into a state of temporary paralysis.

Seeing the dragon pinned to the ground as it took the full brunt of her scream, it thrashed violently before succumbing to paralysis. However, by the time he flailed about, his tail had sweeped onto the black-haired Aberration's side as she tried to side-step him, sending her flying a few feet away. With a groan of pain emanating from bruised ribs, Angélique slowly got back onto her feet and started jogging, clutching her side where she had been hit, at a moderate pace towards the pile of clothes that was the dragon's treasure. If she could take advantage of the time he was being held into place, victory for her team would be closer within their grasp.

For a short while the dragon was motionless but after the 15 second mark Chris started squirming and stirring from his position. After five seconds the beast sprang up, sprinted, then leaped into the air, aiming to pounce down on Angel as she drew within reach of the flags.

Just as Angel was about to reach the pile of flags littered among Chris' clothes, she barely caught the sight of the Dragon that shook off his paralysis and taken of skyward, intending to pounce her from above. Another wave of panic settled into the X-marked as she saw him about to collide on her with great force.

"What are you waiting for, weakling? Are you just going to let yourself be crushed by this scaley dickhead?

No time to waste. All or nothing, she figured. She'd meet the pouncing dragon head on, turning towards him just as they were about to collide into each other. When Angel started screaming, she could feel the monster's powerful front claws punch into her shoulders. Almost head to head, she'd literally scream upwards into the dragon's face, making him feel the full up-close knock back and stunning effects of her screech.

The moment the dragon's claws touched her shoulder a tremendous force of sound scrambled the dragon's conscience once more, but this time the blast had also knocked him back a few feet, preventing her from being crushed. However launching the beast in the air caused its tail to uppercut her jaw as it flew into the ground on its back, sprawling for a moment before paralysis set in.

Angel was sent reeling backwards from the force of the dragon's tail slapping her as her shriek sent the dragon flying away from her. She would've screamed some more from the pain of having her shoulders pierced by razor sharp claws, or her jaw nearly dislocated from the power behind the tail's uppercut.

Angel had landed straight into Chris' pile of clothes, but at first she didn't even acknowledge the cushion she fell on. Her mind was numb, dizzy from that vicious hit. She had difficulty moving her arms around, the claw holes into her shoulders made it quite painful as she tried to move them. It took her a few seconds for her eyes to recover her sight, but she noticed everything was blurred, less dark than usual. Did her shades got knocked off again from her face?

"Damn... guess I'll have to request a new pair if this keeps up." she muttered, suddenly feeling the fabric of clothes as she was regaining her senses.

While Angel started to recover, Chris was still somewhat paralyzed. However once he came too he quickly spun back to his feet. In such a rush to stand up that debris of dirt and grass rose around his figure above a small crater. Gleaming red eyes glared at Angelique for being near his treasure before he quickly darted out of the smoke and towards her figure. He once again tried to pounce on her, but avoided his claws from striking her. Instead he tried to pin her to the ground by landing directly above her and placing the dull sides of his claws onto her hands.

Still recovering from that last collision, Angel couldn't see the beast rushing towards her from afar, nor could she see him through her blurred vision until he was right in front of her. By then, it was already too late, the creature had pinned her down to the ground, its claws maintaining her into place. Not that her hands would do much against an opponent of that size though. She tried to struggle but she wasn't able to get free, Chris too imposing in this form. She glared at him back with her vivid emerald eyes.

She hissed something under her breath, something that sounded like a faint "Get off of me." A strange mix of terror and anger began surfacing, her naked eyes making her emotions much more real now that they weren't hidden underneath a pair of opaque black shades.

Chris hesitated due to her emotions being visible, but the monster was determined to help his team. His maw would first gently rip off the flag from her hand, then the chest. He was careful not to actually injure both her and her clothing. Afterwards he began to position himself to remove the other flags on her person. Though trying to be quick being careful was the priority, he didn't want to accidentally kill her or harm her anymore than he had to.

The more flags Chris was removing, the more embarrassed Angel felt. Being so cautious as he removed her flags - especially her chest flag - made her feel somewhat pissed off, yet somehow a strange feeling of ease settled. Her mind was fueled by the anger of losing this battle, but her panicked mind waned as the ferocious dragon seemed gradually becoming a human. Hell, if it wasn't for the fact they were fighting each other on this god forsaken clearing for a stupid game of flags, she could swear the creature on top of her felt like a lover carefully undressing her.

Angélique flushed when her mind had taken her into this thought. What the fuck was she thinking? She shook her head, trying to clear off this image from her mind. She had to get out of this predicament. She was starting to lose, and if it kept on going, she'd lose for real. Fortunately, for an unknown reason, the dragon haven't covered her mouth, her only real line of defense.

Are you going to let yourself be done in shamefully like that, petty girl? You giving up already on his gentleness? How cute. Why not ask him on a date when you both are done here while you are at it?

Her teeth chattered, rage bubbled up inside. No, she did not have something for that scaly-ass freakshow, nor was she going to let herself be defeated in such a humiliating way. Anger fiercely flashed into the metal-singing ex-rockstar. He dare look down on her to not take measures against her, then he will pay dearly for that. Just as Chris positioned himself to get the remaining flags off her, her mouth opened, letting out another ear-ravaging shout from the depths of her lungs.

Chris was surprised she'd be so reckless as to shout at him again, the dragon was blasted off of her and fell directly below her, landing on a few of his flags as the beast struggled to get up before entering a state of paralysis, and falling back down.

Angélique struggled back onto her feet, still feeling a phantom feeling of the dragon's warmth and pressure that had kept her pinned not a few seconds ago. Her shoulders hurt like hell, but sheer willpower, adrenaline and anger fueled her into standing up and trying to win this challenge. She would make her way to Chris, still immobilized from the sheer power of her voice. From the few pieces of clothing that were free from the dragon's body, she would rip them from the ground, taking the flags with her.

To see a dragon in this state before her, it felt incredible. To wield enough power to topple a dragon, now THAT was exhilarating. It made her want to do more, feel more of this power surging into her. Pay this creature back in kind for the pain he had brought her, for the creatures that maimed her friends, for those who had killed them.

With a sinister gleam into her eyes, she did not even wait for Chris to stand back onto his legs. She shouted once more, wanting to make him roll out of the way, make him feel the shame she had felt when she was pinned underneath him, make him beg for her to stop

The dragon rolled over from the blow, still unable to move from the shellshock of her scream.

A wicked grin formed onto Angel's lips as she saw the dragon roll over, now exposing whatever remaining flags he had underneath him. She walked up to the creature lying down on his back, like a vulgar dog punted into submission. She couldn't have felt more alive than right now, as she knelt beside the dragon and ripped the flags from Chris' pants. He was now out of the game, and Angel had come out on top. There was a strange pride that had risen deep inside, akin to the time when she had become to be nationally renowned as a musician.

"He deserved it..."

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠 / / 𝟙𝟞53

---

After defeating the dragon, Angélique moved away from the grounded dragon. Her vision still blurred, she walked up to the spot where she was being pinned a moment ago. As she came close to the area, she spotted a familiar black shape down on a patch of dirt. Kneeling with difficulty as pain flared up o her side one more, Angel retrieved which were indeed her shades. There was a crack running down across the left lens, and the mounts were slightly misaligned. Guess she was due to request a change.

But as she slipped her shades back on, her sight did not clear up. Instead, everything faded to black.

---

There she was again, standing on a stage made of void, lost in the darkness, with only a single spotlight shining down on her and a featureless crowd facing her with expressionless stares. Their presence felt overwhelming, more so than the darkness surrounding her. Their lifeless stare was antagonizing her, made her feel oppressed, was aggravating her.

As she tried to call up to the mass of people that had gathered in front of her, one person dropped. Then another, then another one, then another again. Everyone fell lifeless and vanished into the surrounding void, all but one last person. She had remained close to her, in fact almost face to face. The features of the remaining woman seemed to slowly manifest, however still remaining clouded in mystery. The only striking trait that was showing was a taunting bloodied grin.

"Your voice was never meant to rally people together."

For a glimpse of a moment, the mysterious’ girl’s face revealed itself, reflecting like a twisted mirror the face of the woman standing face to face in front of her. Faintly, Angélique thought she recognized the visage, feeling it was strongly familiar, yet felt it was dirtied, even for the brief lapse of time she had gazed into it.

---

In a flash of light, Angel was brought back to reality. What was that just now? It had been the second time she experienced something as such. It felt strange, something seemed to have been dropped into her being while she was having this vision, made her feel more... whole but at the same time more sullied.

Lunch was enjoyable, even with the obvious tensions that had formed. Having returned to the classroom with Callan, Siena was quick to note where everyone was sitting, trying to match faces to names as she passed.

Considering the wealth of information that she was capable of storing, the brunette didn't find the task difficult.

Still, she was uneasy when she noted that Lily was nowhere to be seen, and even more nervousness when the boy that had received a Squishable Manatee was distinctly not present in his seat by the time that things had started to roll into action. It was a shame--he seemed like a nice boy, and...well, Siena had wanted to ask if he liked Squishables as much as she did. A concerned frown on her face, Siena focused on what was being said as best she could through the storm.

'You shouldn't be curious, you should be worried.' Shut. Up. 'Don't show your fangs, Siena.'

Her words? Or Maya's?

Forcing herself away from the inner turmoil, Siena listened intently to the explanation of flag-and-seek, her eyes scanning over the names on the board. She recognized most of the opposing team, but that wasn't exactly good if she considered they were going to be competing. Her eyes caught sight of Marcus's glance, and it sent...something through her. Instead of returning the expression, Siena had quickly averted her gaze, as though she hadn't noticed. Why had she felt a jolt of fear at that?

'Because Gerwulf gets that look before things go bad.'

Shut. Up.

Freddy's talk about the world at large and the way that DC monsters were beginning to act strange had trouble reaching Siena through the thick of her troubled thoughts. Relief that a few of the missing students were not in danger. Fear that there had been no mention of Aaron. Terror at the familiarity of the challenger's gaze.

Stop it.

When the lecture had come to a close, Siena had little choice but to distract herself with other things. Electives--she should put some thought into them...right? Her eyes went over the columns and words over and over again to no avail, eventually leaving her to fill the sheet out in desperation over actual interest in the courses.





"Golden snitch, stay hidden, solitary confinement... Golden snitch, stay hidden, solitary confinement," Lily repeated quietly to herself as she sat on the floor of the defunct freezer. It was sort of funny to think of herself as a golden snitch. She had blonde hair and was small. But can I move that fast? Maybe I should try. Her mind brought up the scene she saw outside. A large clearing with weird beaten up buildings all around and two opposing teams... "Solitary confinement," the words crept up on her again. If she got caught then that would be it.Had she been in her sad mood, solitary confinement wouldn't have been a problem. Seeing how fast she was in exchange for being alone for what? Maybe a week? She wouldn't mind. But she wasn't in that mood now and being shut out from people she found interesting wasn't exactly tempting. She sighed.

But then staying in the same place until someone found her? Ugh. This is so boring. Why play a game if it's boring in the first place? The place she was in was not somewhere she'd like to stay for long periods of time too. Broken down, rusty shelves, cracked tiled walls and a peeling ceiling with sinister dark brown water marks. There was also a strange musty smell she couldn't quite figure where it's coming from. "Would have been more interesting if I was with that boy...Oh." Her lips formed an O as she thought back to how Christmas had looked when they were led into Ground Zero. Unlike her, the idea of the game didn't really seem to amuse him. He actually looked scared. She immediately felt sympathetic towards him and wondered where he was.

Thinking how the boy must be feeling brought forth memories of when she had woken up in USARILN East. Unfamiliar faces stared down at her, people in white coats fussed over her and whispered among themselves about the X marking her throat. She remembered resenting whoever it was that left her there, hated whoever it was that wiped her memories. Being left alone wasn't such a nice thing. She shook her head to clear it. No use thinking about it for now. Dwelling too much on things she can't remember brought out the faceless people in her mind. And she didn't want or need that now. She jumped up to her feet, the way a surprised rabbit would. I should go and look for that boy! she concluded happily. As long as I keep myself hidden then there's really no problem, right? She made her way towards the door, her mind already coming up with a dozen plans on how to look for the other healer.

There was something unsettling, Siena acknowledged as the preparation time wound down, about the fact that neither Kurt (Nightcrawler, she supposed) nor Demetri were especially difficult to control. It was almost nauseating how little change she felt in her own inner world even adopting both their names, but that was the price she paid for control, wasn't it? The brunette took advantage of the moment of serene peace to start probling the field, getting accustomed to Demetri's tracking sense.

It was...different from what Siena had expected, really. She could tell, with relative ease, that she couldn't identify most of what she was sensing. More importantly, it occurred to Siena that while she could cleanly feel ten distinct presences on the field, two of them were unfamiliar and difficult to latch onto.

One of them, she acknowledged, was probably Christmas.

But Lily...? Siena could dig out the tenors of Lily's mind with relative ease, her eyes trailing towards the buildings on her right. A definite sense from that direction...isolation. The familiarity of the emotion sent a tremor through Siena's fingertips, enough to make her hair stand on end. Turning her gaze about the field to avoid showing any knowledge of her target, Siena's mind immediately worked out a plan. The smallest building was the restaurant--it looked a little dismal, but it would also be the easiest to search and access with its mostly-visible entryways. The brunette could barely make out a few darker figures in the storefront, but just enough to know where she could safely make a landing in the worst case scenario. There was a lobby. Plenty of space.

'START!'

The words had barely finished when Siena braced herself for some discomfort, running forward a few steps as if to keep up with her teammates, and then jumping.

Not a normal jump.

She vanished in a puff of sulphur-reeking smoke, reappearing in a tangle of limbs as her forward momentum sent her tumbling directly into an overturned podium, scattering a few forgotten menus on the ground. Bruising pain blossomed like sickly-sweet flowers across her arms and ribs, but the girl didn't let it stop her. She had to get out of sight before anyone noticed where she had disappeared to. Stumbling blindly over unturned furniture that had seen better days, colors burst before her vision as nausea and fatigue set in. Short of breath, Siena staggered around the corner, slumping against the wall.

'Oh god, oh geeze. Should have done a test jump before I tried that.' The last time she had taken this name, she hadn't been so daring with her teleportation once she noticed it. Siena took a few deep breaths to calm her churning stomach, counting to up to fifteen and back again before doing a quick scan of the restaurant. Lily was close...but not in the mess of furniture tossed and turned. Steeling herself, Siena started picking her way towards the back of the establishment, the sense becoming easier to follow as the nausea faded out.

Lily's hand had just rested on the freezer's door handle when she heard a muffled sound from outside. She immediately froze, Monsters, was her initial thought, her golden eyes wide. The squirrels. Her mind brought back memories from the last battle she was in. She thought of how the rodents had feasted on Padma and she cringed. No, no, no, no, she thought frantically as she looked around the small, confined space she was in. If she stayed there then she'd definitely be squirrel food. It wasn't such a nice thought... she still wanted to do so much. She still wanted to remember things she had no idea if she'll ever remember.

Steeling herself, she reached out again and slowly opened the door. Thankfully, even in its decrepit state, the door swung open smoothly, making no unnecessary sounds. She held her breath as she peeked outside. When she didn't see anything there aside from the haphazard kitchen furniture, she immediately got on all fours and crept out as stealthily and as quietly as she can. Spotting an open metal kitchen cabinet, she hurriedly crawled over to it and got in, her small size enabling her to cram herself into the small space with no effort. She would have slid the metal door closed but seeing at how rusted it was, she was sure it would make a grating sound. She opted to leave it open.

The kitchen wasn't in better condition than the dining area, but it certainly had a few places more to try and hide a person. Grey eyes darted around the room. One exit that looked like it led to a storage room, two hefty metal doors that were likely the freezer and refrigeration unit, and one large, standing oven that could have hid a human body. 'They're not going to hide anyone in an oven, Siena.; A quick glance down the hall as she passed the exit to the storage room told Siena that the room didn't have an entry door--just another exit with a small window that showed outdoor skies. Good, an unseen exit that she could leave through. She'd check there last. Alright, that meant a clockwise scouring of the kitchen--'You idiot, you forgot the restrooms.'. Giving a frustrated sigh, Siena pinched the bridge of her nose. She'd check them after the kitchen. Stupid of her to forget that most eating establishments had public restrooms, even if she never used them herself.

"...Freezer, fridge, oven, bathrooms, and storage, then..." The words came out a little uncertain as Siena thought back on her previous encounter with Lily. The girl wasn't really all that big, now that she thought about it. With a frown on her face, the brunette couldn't help but imagine one of the guards shoving the blonde into a drawer or underneath a fryer without much trouble. That made things much harder. "And I'm not familiar enough with this tracking sense to get a better read..." Siena didn't let that stop her as she peered into the open door of the freezer. Nothing. Next.

It took a little effort to swing the door of the refrigeration unit open, the hinges having been unwilling to budge after the first few tugs. Peering in, her nose was assaulted by the smell of stale air and what was probably mold. Nothing again. Well...there was always the oven to check. With a sigh, the brunette promptly turned, already jogging for--

CLANG.

"OW!" Her knee collided into the corner of the center island, the metal humming with a metallic sound as another round of pain settled into her joints. Not even a teleport that time. Hissing, the girl staggered, one hand landing against the smooth surface as her face contorted into a grimace as she glanced at the injury. A thin cut peered back at her, blood seeping to the surface. She should have worn the long pants. "Could use a healer right about now..." But she didn't have one, so she'd have to find something to cover her injury, at least. Though the building was in a state of disarray, certainly there were some washcloths or paper towels she could use as a makeshift plaster. With a sigh, Siena started walking, this time carefully, towards the other end of the kitchen, her eyes glancing about every so often to check for another unexpected obstacle.

Except what she saw, about halfway on her journey to the other side of the kitchen, was not an obstacle, but Lily just barely in sight thanks to the angle of the cabinet door she'd hidden in. Little more than a glimmer of golden hair through the crack. Siena paused.

The loud noise and the 'OW' made Lily's head pop out of her hiding place. Squirrels didn't make 'ow' sounds, do they? When she caught sight of a girl with brown hair, she almost sighed in relief. It wasn't some monster but someone she recognized. Siena. Team mate from the last battle and fellow Benediction fan. The small girl grinned and was just about to call out to Siena when she remembered just in time that she should be staying hidden. She immediately clamped her mouth close and ducked back into the cabinet she had been hiding in before she could be found out.

But maybe she became careless or Siena was using some sort of detecting power. Even as she retreated back into the shadows of the cabinet, the other girl spotted her.

"Lily? Did...did they shove you in a cabinet?" A mixture of both concern and confusion trickled into the bookworm's voice. Why? There were plenty of other hiding spots around. Siena took a cautious step closer to the cabinet in case she had to play rough to get Lily back to the team. "I'm gonna uh...get you out of there, if you're okay with that. I don't think being stuck in a space that small is comfortable..."

When Lily heard Siena addressing her, she expected to be tazed and have guards marching in to take her to some solitary confinement. She failed at staying hidden after all. Wait... I'm supposed to be found, right? I hid and was found. I didn't lead her here... she thought to herself as she uncurled herself from her position in the cabinet and got up on her feet. She shook her head in response to Siena's question. "No. I hid in there by myself. I thought you were a squirrel out to get me," she admitted, her eyes scouring the area as if expecting monsters to jump her. When she was content that there was only the two of them, she looked at the small space she had crammed herself into and then shook her head again. "Actually, it wasn't so bad in there. I think I would have fallen asleep if you didn't find me," she laughed animatedly before staring quizzically at the taller girl. "But how did you find me here?" she asked curiously. "I thought it would be a while for someone to actually come and find me."

"Ah, well that's good...? I'm glad they didn't just shove you in there." And with a pause, Siena gave a small grin. "Hehe...I'm borrowing a tracker's power since I wanted to find you before the team out to hunt healers tried to cram you somewhere else. I'm still getting used to it, but I could tell you were somewhere nearby." The lie came to her with relative ease, especially when mixed with a half truth. Offering her hand to the smaller blonde, Siena gave a gentle smile to hide the anxiety that was starting to build. Time was of the essence, she thought. "You wanna try something cool? I just so happen to have borrowed a second nifty power to get around the area."

Having no real reason not to trust a familiar face and a former team mate, Lily was quick to agree. She nodded her head enthusiastically as she took the hand offered to her. There wasn't any rule that said she couldn't go with someone, right? "Okay."

Relief swept over Siena like the warm mists of her home showers, but she drowned it with a smile. "I shoulda done this when Benediction disappeared." Leading the girl towards the dining area, Siena waited until she could peer out into the field. With two figures near the spot she'd been hoping to drop Lily off, she quickly recalculated for the top of the nearest building to that spot. A further jump, but safer, given the circumstances. The brunette gave a mischievous smile to her companion. "There might be a little motion sickness, but I promise, it'll be cool."

Lily allowed herself to be led towards the dining area, furrowing her brows at how the taller girl held her hand. Somehow it brought unfamiliar memories to mind and for a brief second Siena turned into a tall boy with golden hair. "Hmmm?" She blinked. Was she imagining things? Who was holding her hand? A quick flash of a gentle face, a smile, golden hair blowing in the wind. "Sebastian," she whispered in a sort of relieved tone, remembrance, as always coming in short bursts. But the image only she was able to see disappeared when she heard a dragon's roar reach them. The small blonde snapped her attention towards what was happening outside, her mind automatically shifting gears. Monsters? she again thought in a panic, not really aware that they had a shapeshifter among their ranks.

With a gentle squeeze of Lily's hand, the two figures vanished from the restaurant in a cloud of brimstone smoke. Unlike the first jump, Siena had been able to nail the landing. Sort of. She was two inches off the ground, but that was better than two feet while moving. Head spinning, she wondered briefly whether Lily felt any of the fatigue--she'd picked an earlier version of her mark despite the distinct disadvantages hoping that the side-effects wouldn't be quite so pronounced on her potential passengers.

It was probably a slim hope, but at least she'd given some warning on the disorientation. Hopefully it was enough to keep her (dare she say it?) friend from the same fatigue that Siena could feel trying to settle over her. Staggering a bit, the brunette gave a surprisingly genuine laugh at her accomplishment. "Oh geeze, haha...I usually don't land that gracefully." One shaky backstep to hide the disorientation. "You should be nice and safe here."

Lily didn't have a chance to voice out her worries or to even remember the vision of the golden haired boy she had just seen when the restaurant vanished from around her. She felt her head spin as she felt the ground disappear and reappear under her feet. Disoriented, she trained her golden eyes at Siena, for a moment confused with what had just happened. But her hyperactive mind quickly noted that they were in a different place and she figured out that Siena had somehow teleported them. Despite the dizziness she still felt, a huge grin spread across her face and she made a small whoop of excitement. "That was... AMAZING! How did you do that? Can we do it again? Can we teleport anywhere? What about back to the dorm? Or maybe to where Christmas is? I'm sure he's scared and alone somewhere. He didn't look too pleased to be in this game," she fired one question after another. "Oh, oh, you found me when no one else did. So does that mean you can zero in on where Chistmas is? Can I come along when you get him?" she continued her excited chatter, slightly bouncing on the balls of her feet.

There was a brief moment of legitimate confusion as Lily seemed to be...shockingly excited about having been teleported. She'd once taken Gerwulf for a quick trip down the stairs, and he'd sworn for about twenty seconds straight after their rematerialization. Then again, Gerwulf hated surprises, so maybe this was the normal reaction. "I'm glad you liked that better than the last person I teleported." An honest truth accompanied by an equally honest smile. "How about I bring Christmas over here, and then I'll teleport you as many times as you want? I gotta get out of here before anyone notices I got back." Lie, lie, lie. Total lie. "I'm gonna sound a little insane, but I'm gonna drop you off by the dragon puppy. He's nice though." The dragon that looked kind of like he had just gotten his butt kicked seven ways to Sunday. "After that, I'll be back, quick as lightning with Christmas."

Lily looked a little disappointed that she wasn't gonna be coming along to pick Christmas up but she perked back up at the thought of teleporting as many times as she wanted. She nodded, totally believing Siena's words. "Okay, you go get Christmas and then---" she stopped abruptly and stared at Siena, an incredulous look on her face. "Dragon... puppy? You're gonna drop me off by a dragon? But... big, scaly monster...with sharp teeth probably bigger than me... He might stomp me... or eat me," she shuddered, her brows once again furrowing in frustration and worry.

---

---

Marcus had left on his own so Ernie did the same, taking the time to visit his long-awaited new dorm. Silence. Ernie breathed it in, loosening his shoulders as he closed the door behind him. Solace at last. No dumbass classmates to get in his face, no asshole guards to shove him around. A little piece of paradise. His two vacuums, his big axe, his tomahawk, his cooler. Ernie relaxed at the sight of the familiar goods, doing a mental count as he inspected every piece. Everything was here. His time putting everything in its place was unfortunately shortlived, a peace that was lost too easily.

He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here, away from everything outside. Ernie stood by the door, stock still.

There wasn't anything wrong with staying, right? He wasn't going to learn anything either way! What was the worst they could do? Taze him? Solitary confinement? It was nothing he hadn't gone through before! He just needed to stay a few more minutes, just really take in his new room and--

With all the strength he could muster Ernie pounded his fist to his chest, creating an audible thump to accompany the incoming bruise. That goddamn Stigma was getting pissier by the day. He needed to go right now, before the rest of those useless thoughts came. Ernie burst through the doorway with an agitated pace. If he left quickly enough, he wouldn't have enough time to think about it. By the time he reached the classroom, he was breathless.

---

He sat in the corner seat again, the same bored expression from earlier branding itself on his face as soon as he entered the threshold. The sight of Marcus two seats down only served to worsen his already irritable mood. Sure, the scarred boy had seemed kinda sorry about it, but it didn't change the fact that he had made Ernie look bad. If it weren't for the girl between them, Marcus probably would have found a pen embedded in his thigh by now. Bleeding AND ink poisoning, what a combo that would be.

Ernie shook his head vigorously. Geh, he needed to sate himself soon.

Sure, he wanted to get back at Marcus for earlier. But violence wasn't the answer to that, unfortunately. No, Ernie needed to fight verbal sneakiness with more verbal sneakiness. But how would he do it...

Ernie's eyes followed Fredric as he entered the room. However, it was on another dark haired mage in the front where his gaze settled. Emma, huh? That'd be a good start. She'd seemed pretty spooked by whatever happened in the cafeteria but if she was used once, she could be helpful a second time. Satisfied with the planned course of action, Ernie allowed himself a relaxed smirk and decided to actually pay attention to up front this time.

A combat exercise on his first day. Guess that was to be expected of East. Ernie breathed. It was just a game. Good. No stakes, no life and death nonsense. Nothing he needed to think too hard about. Just him, some bits of velcro, and a bunch of teammates he didn't know or particularly care about. Simple.

With the briefing finally out of the way, Ernie could finally return to ignoring the lessons. Instead, he pored his Electives sheet. He didn't want to have to take anything else he'd just ignore. Something he could ace would probably be his best choice. It would be nice to not fail a class for once. So Home Ec was his number one. Cooking and chores were something he could do in his sleep. So he'd be doing it in class too.

---

Before he knew it, class was over and it was time to get ready for combat. Strategies and talks with teammates were tossed out the window. He didn't know any of his teammates besides Emma and last he'd seen of her, she didn't seem up for talking. So that left equipment. He entered the dorm once again and went through his things.

Steel toe work boots were a definite must. Sneakers in a combat zone were a bad idea. A few hairties on the wrist in case his hair got extra fussy. He changed into something breezier; a dark blue singlet and cargo pants. Combat meant lots of running about, so he always wore something that'd let him cool off. Plus there was less chance of getting a shirt sleeve caught on something. He looped his belt through along with an axe holster.

Clothing was sorted so now it was time for the heavier stuff. On his desk laid a Makarov PM, his woodchopping axe and his tomahawk. The gun was out of the question. "No lethal methods" after all. So it was between Chopper and Tommy.

The violent release zone at East was different. He'd read about it on DnT. West's release zone lacked the time-looping phantom that was required for a sustainable venting space for subnaturals. So Kleinfelder had to make do with the local resources, more specifically, the local forests. The Fallout Zone was nothing more than a glorified wood-chopping competition, with the occasional terrorized bear and subnatural wrestling matches. The 'destruction' that was expected in the Fallout Zone had always been far too mild for Ernie's needs. It worked well enough for the pansy Aberrations at West. Felling trees was therapeutic alright, but not in the way his Stigma demanded. So he'd needed other methods of destruction. Looked like that wouldn't be the case for this campus, though.

Ernie packed away the wood-chopping axe. No more trees for this guy. Instead, he grabbed the tomahawk and tucked it into its holster, sheathed of course. With his preparations finished, he headed off to Ground Zero.

Out.

Man... I suck.

As the fabric of Sander's pants loosened around her face, it became much easier to breath and therefore stop encouraging her shadow. Some blood loss, several blows to the head, and severe claustrophobia had created the perfect storm it seemed. Callan pulled the denim off of her still throbbing face and blinked up at Grant. Meanwhile Sander was still on top of her with his face in his hands, but she'd deal with him later.

She ran her tongue along the front of her teeth before shooting Grant an exasperated grin. Her right eye was slightly swollen and bruised. Her head was still swimming, but she managed to speak. "GG," she chuckled weakly before averting her eyes. Things still felt pretty awkward around Grant-- ever more so now that he'd just quite literally wiped the floor with her. Maybe now they were even? She hesitantly tapped her right cheek with her fingers and hissed, chuckling again. Definitely the most intense flag football game she'd ever been in.

Grant had taken a slight step back, away from Callan, just in case. He had his hands right back in his pockets and his trusty chains right behind him as he looked down at Callan as she recovered, pulling the jeans away from her face. She looked like she could be much better. Sander really didn't pull any punches. At least he's stopped beating her already. He looked back down at her as her eyes blinked open to focus on him. Somehow, he had come on top as the victor of this fight with the help of Sander. He was a bit taken aback from Callan's words to him, much different than her words of anger from before, as well as the grin she flashed. He was silent for a few moments before he spoke up.
"Yeah. Good game. It was a close one." He'd reply to her with a small nod. "You going to be alright?" He'd ask, since she did take quite the beating. But he could guess that she was alright. She was one who was 'strong,' after all.

Focus.

Sander forced himself to. He tried, really, he did. But the thickness of his tongue too prominent, the beats of his heart too frantic, and the scorching heat in his veins impossible to ignore. He lowered his arms, digging the fingers into his palms instead, hoping for something else to focus on. No such luck. Then he caught sight of aquamarine hair still beneath him. Realization set in after a few owlish blinks, prompting Sander to get off her, quickly climbing to his feet. He was supposed to help her up. He wanted to. But he didn’t. Instead, the blood mage just walked off, standing a few steps away from both Callan and Grant, eyes on anywhere but the crater he created.

“Is that enough?”- He grunted, looking down at his cuff. His words came out shaky and garbled, like he had something in his throat-“Can I stop now?”

Prefaced by a beep, Fredric's voice answered, "Game isn't over yet, champ. 8 minutes to go." Beep.

Callan shifted her eyes back to Grant. She couldn't get much of a read on the guy, but... his words were nice at least. When he didn't answer right away, she thought he might be mad at her from before. After a moment of cogs turning she answered, "Yeah...." She looked back to Sander, who still hadn't moved.

"Uh...," she wasn't really sure what to say to grab his attention. She might've blushed, but there was already so much going on with her face that she couldn't notice if she did. Her eyes fell on the black X at Sander's throat. Even as he seemed to snap back to the present, recognizing that he was still on top of her, she got the feeling he was looking right through her. She said nothing as he got up and walked away without a word, standing off to the side and not facing either of them.

Sitting up and staring after him, she pondered over their fight. She called it a fight, but it wasn't supposed to've been. She felt the bite marks on her neck, which were still steadily bleeding. All over her new hoodie, no doubt, but that was barely at the forefront of her mind-- petty things that were easier to worry about. She clapped her hand over the bite and applied pressure, still staring at Sander's back. Is this what it meant to be an aberration? Was his 'stigma' bothering him?

Sander made a frustrated noise in his throat, racking fingers through his hair while scanning the field. Then suddenly, the world lunged forward and sank.

He was back in his dreams again, despite being wide awake just moments before. Something pulled him into his own mind, and that same thing was keeping him there. He couldn’t leave. Then again, he didn’t want to.

He was staring at the ocean again. However, the riptide had awoken. The untamed current roared, its sprawling body twisted and churned around him. It circled him, fleet-footed and slick, primal in its predatory dance. Then it closed in for the kill, the tainted water swallowing him whole.

And he let it.

Sander blinked and found himself back at the field again, still just another chip in Zhang’s grand gamble. Once again, the Change came to him.

Grant stepped to the side a bit as Sander got off of Callan, seeming to still struggle with himself. As is what he should probably expect from an aberration. Hopefully he got himself together. As the voice from the cuff said, this game is not over. Speaking of. He turned his eyes back to Callan who sat on the floor, a hand clapped to her neck.

"Callan." He'd say to get her attention from Sander. He stepped up to her, holding a hand down toward her, offering to help her up. "The game's still happening. Best get somewhere safe, away from the crossfire." He'd advise her as he offered her his hand. Best to get her away from the field before going off to help the rest of his teammates. Assuming any of them are having any trouble.

"Oh, uh, yeah..." Callan looked surprised as she accepted Grant's hand. She attempted another smile out of sheer relief-- she'd half expected Grant to rub his victory in her face. That or not say much at all-- not unlike Sander. All things considered, Grant seemed pretty cool. "Thanks," she said as he helped pull her to her feet. Her smile faded, though it was only because her cheek had been screaming in protest.

Making her way towards the side of the plaza, Callan looked down at the pants in her hand. Shit, she should really return these-- probably now. She didn't really want to hang on to this sort of item any longer than she had to. Looking at Sander, he seemed unhappy as he combed his fingers through his hair and glanced over the plaza. She'd heard Fredric's voice through the boy's cuff. If she had to guess, he seemed anxious for the game to be over. Was that why he'd been so aggressive? No... not just aggressive-- violent. He could've grabbed her flags off numerous times, but instead.... Her hand gravitated to where her cheek met her eye socket, reigniting the stinging pain as she tested it once again. Ow....

In any case, his lack of pants didn't seem to be what was bothering him and she really wanted to sit down. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel a little heated over what he'd done-- crazy vampire. But what did she expect? As Callan made her way towards a bench that was miraculously still standing, she looked across the plaza to take tabs on her own teammates. What she saw was anything but pretty.

After a quick word of thanks to him, Callan was off to a safe place. That was that. Grant rolled his neck with a long sigh... he couldn't wait for all this to just be over already. He took a step and turned toward Sander. Or... what he thought would be Sander. What he turned to was a limitless ocean. Beyond limit. This feeling... This feeling of infinity felt familiar... As if he felt it before... But how was it possible to grasp the ungraspable?

There it was. A droplet that could only be a fraction of what was in front of him. The endless, infinite ocean stretching into beyond. It seemed so far away. The droplet meant for him. How was he supposed to reach it? He raised his hand... and reached... and he grasped it. Despite how far it was, it was now in his hand. Infinity filled him until...

Sander was in front of him now. Grant had his arm outstretched, a fist at the end. He stumbled back a bit, looking around... confused. Disoriented. But with that feeling, another. The feeling as if he could reach farther... Farther than he could have before. He could only guess what this feeling meant. He'll figure it out later. He had a game to survive.

Kusari took only a few seconds to look past her current opponent and see what was happening to the rest of her team. Callan and Chris had been defeated. She honestly wasn't expecting Callan to lose, perhaps she'd underestimated how strong Sander was. She should have helped her take him down. As for Chris, all she'd heard from his direction was screaming from Angel, apparently he'd lost.

"Well... shit." She grumbled to herself, her tentacle scratching the top of her head. She stopped as she realized she was doing it. It was honestly pretty gross how accustomed she was to it already.

So she was horribly outnumbered now and had to carefully weigh her options. Fighting out in the open field was a bad idea, she could easily be surrounded on all sides. To her left was an area with trees in it, it could provide some cover, but there was a better option. Turning on her heel Kusari dashed towards Angel. Flinging her tentacle forward she wrapped it around the girl, making sure to bind her arms and cover her mouth. Angel was then lifted off the ground as Kusari took off for a nearby building. "Sorry, but I can't afford to play fair here."

Angélique was shaken from her thoughts as she felt something creeping up onto her arms, fastening them together tightly before that alien appendage crept up to her mouth. Her eyes widened in terror as she believed a monster akin to the spaghetti monster she had fought a few days earlier had began lifting up angel from her spot.

Her head turned to the source of the voice that had called to her? She was taken aback to see it wasn't a creature that had taken hold of her, but rather a familiar face, Kusari from the opposing team.

She is underestimating you. Looking down on you. She thinks you are a simple pathetic damsel easy to capture.

Angel shot out a glare towards Kusari as she began running with her as prisoner. Such a smug prick. Did she really think she would let herself be taken hostage that easily? She will show that albino freak, just how wrong she was to look down on her.

Angel screamed underneath the tentacle covering her mouth, her voice muffled. However, as she let out the breath off her throat, the sheer force of her voice blew the tentacle away from her mouth, as if a powerful hand swatted the appendage away from the shades-wearing Aberration. With the tentacle no longer muffling her voice, her scream echoed down full power towards the girl who had dared taken Angel as prisoner. This time, her voice seemed to echo farther than before.

[i]'Alright...I think I figured out this tracking sense. It's pretty useful...' Taking the moment of peace, Siena sent her gaze around the area, the more familiar with her temporarily gained power, the narrower she could make the area that Christmas was in...but how was she supposed to get under...

'Ew. Ewewew, eeeewwwwww...'

Disgust was evident, even as Siena noted the suspiciously open manhole in the distance. No. Oh no. Ew. Ew. Still...Kusari was right when she said that if they wanted to win... With a sigh, Siena returned her attention just in time to see Kusari break Angel away from the safe zone. Perfect. Tightening her grip on Lily's hand just enough to warn her, Siena braced herself...then made her "jump" in a puff of smoke.

Marcus's fear quickly turned to some sort of irritation as he saw Kusari dash off towards one of his other teammates. "What!? All that show and you're just gonna run off!?" he shouted, almost in frustration. He grabbed the extra limb that lay on the ground, shaking the velcro flag from it by wedging it between his arm and his body. He took off running in the same direction she did, but with her improved speed and his utter unwillingness to ever do any sort of cardio ever, there was no way he was going to catch up to her.

Not even worth the effort.

Should have been finished off.

Marcus's mind was in full operation, despite his slightly dizzy state and the blood that was starting to clot in his nose. Every step he took towards Kusari and Angel only made his arm throb more as it shuddered. Step, pain, step, pain, like some perverse drumbeat. The pain seemed to reverberate at the same beat as his own heart, and the same frequency at which the stars seemed to pour into him.

Wait. Stars?

---

He was back in that starless scene, except this time he found himself upside down, dangling loosely like a strip of paper. The stars were gone, but he could still feel the heat inside him. The same heat that was currently dripping up his face and onto the twisted metal. He knew that there was pain, but he didn't actually feel anything; he knew that his bones were shattered and his skin was shredded, but it didn't hurt. There were voices; a million tiny whispers all around him. Some of the voices he recognized, but the faces wouldn't reveal themselves. Even though there were many of them, they seemed to be part of one big whisper. A question, barely out of tune. Or was it a shout; some sort of exclamation that was just soft enough to be lost? A statement, perhaps - drowned beneath the deafening silence? Something seemed to talk, though all he could hear was the sound of gentle curiosity.

The world sprang back into action. A flurry of movement, a cacophony of sound, and an explosion of pain.

---

Pain, step, pain, step.

The world shifted back into focus, and Marcus realized with a start that he wasn't making any ground. He might've been able to shout a warning to Angel if he wasn't so dazed, but the tentacle girl had already grabbed her by the time he opened his mouth. Out of his perihperial, he saw Sander and Grant making their ways towards Kusari. Two fighters and him. There really wasn't much he could do, especially if they managed to free Angel and had three fighters. If anything, he'd just get in the way. So, it was time for him to let them battle it out, while he stayed in the background.

"Sander! Which way is-" Marcus started, stopping suddenly to process a tidbit of information.

Where were his pants?

Never mind that. There'd be plenty of time for that question later. "Which way is Christmas?" he shouted, slowing to a jog.

Sander watched Kusari at first, arms around himself as he dug his fingers into the flesh. He wanted to help. Risky, at this stage, but he had to. The blood rage could not be denied. He was already readying himself for that mad dash toward his roommate, before a voice called to him. He half-turned, eyes widened at Marcus’ bloody form. The scarred boy reminded him of dinner. Of homecooked meals and green garnish. And it scared him.

Wordlessly, he turned his head, focusing on the scent of coffee instead. After narrowing down the scent to a single direction, he gestured with one outstretched hand, then moved forward quickly, giving Marcus a wide berth.

Marcus looked off in the direction that Sander pointed him, immediately turning and going that direction instead of heading towards the explosions of sound that were coming from Kusari and Angel. He gave a quick salute, which would probably be unnoticed by Sander, and moved towards the buildings that dotted the outside.

He focused on the feeling that had been sitting in his gut; a warm feeling that felt ever so slightly out of place. He'd had another hallucination, and he certainly felt...fuller almost. Like there was a power bursting at the seams that wanted to explode out of him. Now was not the best time, however; Siena was out there somewhere, and he had absolutely no idea what names she'd taken. He needed to be ready if she popped out - he couldn't waste his time experimenting with dreams.

As he got closer to the buildings, he noticed something. A lone manhole, its cover apparently long gone. He wandered up to the edge, peering down cautiously. Surely they wouldn't have put the poor kid down in a stinking hole, would they? They had to have some shred of human decency at least, right?

"I spy two wrists with flags still on them, Mr. Howell. Thought you knew how to play this game?"

Oh goddammit.

Light assaulted her eyes for less than a fraction of a second as she let Lily's hand go, and then pushed herself for another sulphur-smoke filled adventure, this time aiming as far as she could previously see down the manhole. No time to waste, no time at all.

With the bleeding boy out of tackling distance, Sander felt himself relax. Marginally. He needed to finish this as soon as possible. He wanted to, so he could finally go to a place where he couldn’t hurt anybody. He wanted out of this twisted game. And there was only one way.

His resolve wavered as he took a step forward. And another. Then another, quickly after. Soon, he was sprinting.

He wanted to end this fight.

The scent of soft drink filled his nostrils. Sweet and alluring. An indulgence.

He wanted.

His dash came to a stop when he a few paces in front of Kusari, his lanky form blocking the way to wherever she was heading.

By the time Grant snapped out of his daze, it seemed as if Sander had just darted off to- Oh. Some kind of monstrosity that currently had Angel, his other teammate, hostage. Joy. With his chains at the ready, Grant headed toward the action once more, to help out his teammates. From what he had just seen from Sander and Callan's tussle, he could assume that Sander wouldn't be useful in the objective, but in the combat portion, very useful. So with him doing whatever he was doing, Grant planned to snatch the flags from a distance, as he did with Callan, before.

Kusari flinched in pain as her tentacle's grip on Angel's mouth was flung off by one of her magic screams. It seemed she had a misunderstanding about how Angel's magic worked, and now she was suffering for it. Her sprint halted completely as her body shook to it's core.
I have to... huh?

She was suddenly somewhere else, she was in that strange room under the sea once more. In the center of the room a young girl no older than fifteen sat. The girl's back was facing her, though she could still see that the girl was drawing on a canvas, she was using an awful lot of red.

Wait, no... This is... no. No. NO! WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME THIS!? PLEASE STOP! Kusari wanted to scream, but the moment she opened her mouth blue paint filled her throat and poured from her mouth. That's right, she knew why this place looked so familiar now. It was her bedroom as a child. The realization was like a corrective lens, the water around her quickly morphed, forming blue painted walls and blue tiled flooring. Kusari fell to the floor, tears streaming down her face, her nose running and her eyes swollen and puffy.

Her mother walked into the room, walking past her and towards her younger self. "Kusari? The limo is here, we have to go. Kusari?" The young girl didn't answer, prompting her mother to walk closer to her. "Kusari!?" Her mother screamed as she saw just what the girl was doing. Her arms were cut open, as blood flowed from her wounds she was using it to smear the painting in front of her. It was a picture of her and her father, or at least it used to be. Her mother shook her child, trying to get her attention. The girl stopped defiling the painting and turned her head towards her mother. Her red eyes were glazed over, empty.

"Would dad... Have liked this?"

Kusari came back to reality, and her mood had dipped lower than the Mariana trench. She didn't know what these dreams were, but she wasn't looking forward to more of them. Meanwhile Angel was still screaming, it hurt, yet somehow it just seemed annoying now. Even still she couldn't do anything to stop the effect of the scream. Her body stopped responding to her will, and before she fell to the ground she dropped Angel.

Angel fell back on her feet as her power unleashed managed to knock Kusari down on the ground, leaving the girl spasming from having her hearing overloaded by high-pitched sonic waves. Resolute and bursting with confidence, the black-haired X-marked took a few steps toward the stunned girl, scanning quickly what flags remained on her body. It would seem that only her ankle flags were left, one tied to her raptor leg and the other around her human leg's ankle. Swiftly, she'd bend down on her knees and snatch the flags around both ankles, dropping them immediately after.

She sighed in relief, glad that this was finally over with. Only the troublesome Siena remained, and finding Christmas before her friend would.

"You're not the only one willing to play dirty..."

Angel rose from her crouched position, looking around for what was happening around her while she had been taken away by the white-haired freakshow. Grant and Sander seemed to have been on the standby, flanking both sides, while Marcus was nowhere to be found. However, the sight of Lilianna inside Team Two's safe area rang an alarm in her head.

"Holy fuck, she already found her?"

"Guys! No time to fuck around! They got Lily! Go find Christmas!"

Sander barely moved throughout the whole ordeal, his crimson eyes locked onto the white-haired girl the whole time. However, the situation escalated, and eventually, Angel came out on top. He felt relief, as well as a tingle of disappointment in the pit of his stomach. Like he was missing out on something. His jaws tightened as he clamped down on that feeling, focusing ahead.

That wasn’t a very good idea either. Angel emerged from the fight bruised and bloody, and he couldn’t help but stare. The sweet scent of wine invaded his senses, forcing him to shut his ability down. There was nothing left but the tangy smell of blood and sweat and rust. That wasn’t any better.

He moved a few steps backward, having deemed Kusari no longer a threat. Wrapping his arms around himself once more, he turned to scan the field, desperately searching for a reason to sprint off again. Then Angel yelled at them. He blinked, turning back to face her, before shaking his head, his voice surprisingly quiet –“Now is not a good time, Angel.”

“Stay put.”- He warned, eyeing her battered form.

Angel raised an eyebrow when Sander seemed to refuse to move, or didn't seem to aknowledge her statement. Was he losing it? He did mentionned before the start of the game that his powers were unstable. Perhaps he meant losing self-control? That somehow reminded her of those times she would get into a screaming mood, letting out all of her vented frustration until she felt either satisfied or her throat couldn't produce anything anymore.

"C'mon Sander! You can do it! Don't let yourself be consumed after all you have done so far! We need you focused!"

Despite his warning, Angel had moved a few slow paces towards him.

Sander simply looked alarmed as the sharp scent of wine drew closer. He hastily moved a few steps backward, fear twisting his features –“I don’t think…I can’t…”- He floundered with his words, before settling for the same thing he spoke just seconds before –“This is not a good time.”

Despite that, he turned to look at the direction he had pointed Marcus toward. Angel was right. He had come this far. There was just one thing left to finish the game. One last thing. But it involved Christmas. Not Callan. Not Kusari. Sander was afraid. Yet, her words echoed.

"Ah, yes, because trying in isolation has worked so well for you before."

He knew he had to do this. He wanted to. So he turned and ran, following the scent before the blood high subsided enough for him to regret.

Angel sighed in relief as Sander finally seemed to listen to reason and ran off towards the open manhole. So that’s where Christmas had been hidden after all. Seeing everyone rushing in there, this truly was the last ditch effort for each team. The outcome would be decided by whoever could manage to take hold of the boy and run away with him.

After the blood-drinking Mage left his teammate’s side, Angel scanned the area one more time. Definitively, they’d need to bring Christmas to her team’s safe zone if she wanted to win, since Lilianna had already been found and brought to Team Two’s safe zone. Seeing the blond-haired girl, Angel felt like she should go to her and ask how exactly did she managed to bring her so quickly and unnoticed.

The adrenaline wearing off from no longer being threatened to be snatched away or fighting someone who would’ve wanted to grab her flags, pain resurfaced into Angel’s shoulders and sides. Truly, she had it rough today. To think it was only a game to begin with. She wasn’t even injured that badly the first time she was sent into actual battle against real monsters.

Halfway between from where she had dropped Kusari and Team Two’s safe zone, Angel stopped. The pain was unbearable as she walked, feeling her shoulders flare up with every step. Her legs felt wobbly, and her sight started to blur once more.

I need a breather. One or two minutes to relax can’t hurt, right?

To alleviate her shaking legs, the raven-haired screaming Mage got down on her knees, then took a sitting posture. Realizing that sitting put even more strain on her bruised sides, she then laid down, the bare skin of her back felt autumn’s chill onto the concrete surface.

Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea after all. As she rested her head on the ground, she felt like dozing off to dreamland, or wherever her consciousness would take her from the amount of blood she had lost.



Chris, fully recovering from the previous incidents and his vision, started to look around for a place to rest. With the clothes back on him he began to walk towards the plaza. His hands were in the pockets of his sweat pants and the hoodie of his heavy jacket hung over his head. He'd sigh as he saw Callan before taking a seat himself, saying nothing, nor looking at anything beyond the ground.

With a dispirited frown, Callan looked between Marcus, Kusari, Angel, and Chris, subconsciously feeling and picking at Sander's ID card through the pocket of his jeans. Something seemed off about the way Marcus moved his arm as he ran, but he was too far away to be sure. She curiously turned her attention to Kusari, who had managed to transform her arms into monster limbs-- but how? What the hell happened between those two? Her attention shifted to Angel, who, on top of everything else, seemed to have successfully picked up all of Chris's flag.

Great. She sank down in her seat and crossed her arms as Chris devolved back into a human. Naked again. She looked away, but continued to fume, remembering clearly how he'd shit all over their plan because of a single piece of trash. From the get go, she should've paid more attention to the way Chris was talking about Sander, but still. She didn't expect him to be that short tempered. Several salty phrases she could say cycled through her head-- why bother telling her he could listen while transforming if he was just going to do his own thing anyway?

As Chris dressed himself, Callan watched as Kusari darted at Angel, leaving Marcus behind. He shouted something to Sander, who gestured at some point across the plaza from where she sat. Marcus darted off in that direction, still moving in a way that suggested something was wrong with his arm. It was concerning, but, for the sake of competition, what was more concerning right now was that he was likely heading for one of two people-- Siena or Christmas. Suddenly realizing she hadn't seen Siena at all since the game began, eyes combed through the plaza. Even as she did so, she kept tabs on Kusari, who had since snatched up Angel in her tentacle arm and was sprinting toward the outer edge of the plaza with Sander and Grant trailing behind. Sander, particularly, was closing in fast.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a puff of smoke flicker into existence. Two puffs of smoke in quick succession. And in its wake-- Lily! She gently ran her teeth over the swollen and cracked skin of her busted lip, holding back a smile by distracting herself with the brief waves of pain. That was 32 points right there! Even as she watched Angel scream Kusari into submission and snatch the girls last two flags away, she inhaled deeply and furrowed her brow in thought. It seemed like their opponents had all been pretty preoccupied with everyone other than Siena. She was glad that had allowed her roommate to find the enemy's healer, but they hadn't held them off long enough. There was still a large amount of time left on the clock and it was entirely up to Siena now to either ensure Christmas wasn't found or finish off all the other team's flags.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she muttered under her breath, still trying to find Siena. Oh well... if she couldn't find her, nobody else would likely be able to either. As Chris sat beside her, much of her previous ire had dissipated at the thought of them still managing to win this thing.

Much, but not quite enough.

"What happened?" she asked, fully recognizing the sullen look of failure on her teammate's face.

"Scream girl kept petrifying my brain." Chris responded as he tugged his hood on tighter. "Humiliating, really. She is rather annoying." He'd finish with crossing his arms, still staring to the ground and having the afterthought of defeat. "Sorry I couldn't keep her off longer." It was strange that he felt a new sense of power just after losing the game. He knew his form had improved after he had awaken. He was curious to test it out later.

"How'd your fight go after I left?"

She exhaled slowly through her nose before she replied, "Would've gone better if you'd stuck to the plan."

It wasn't entirely Chris's fault that she was out-- it wouldn't be fair to say that. But it was true he'd made her job a lot more difficult. Straddling Sander on the ground wasn't how she'd wanted to start the fight, after all. But then again, she also hadn't planned on getting punched in the face and taking a bite to the neck. Idly, she noted that the 'scream girl', Angelique, was a force to be reckoned with if she could 1v1 a dragon in two minutes flat-- or at least mess with him enough to steal his treasure hoard.

"Mm, Sorry but that vampire pisses me off. Had the nerve to throw a piece of junk at me." He scoffed.

"That's a bad excuse," Callan retorted calmly, furrowing her brow. If you pull that shit on the battlefield, people die. She wanted to say that out loud, but stopped herself, remembering that his team had lost someone as well. She wasn't sure how close they'd been, but perhaps it was still too soon to bring it up so casually.

"I said leave him to me."

He'd sigh. "Well lets hope I can control myself better next time." He said flatly, his tone made it clear he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Yeah-- let's hope. She shifted in her seat-- trying hard to force the words back down her throat. C'mon, Cal. It's not over yet. We can still win. Don't get mad. With another sigh, her shoulders relaxed. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it," she reassured him, though her voice was slightly lacking in the genuine enthusiasm department, "Don't worry about it."

She pulled Sander's ID card out of the pocket of his jeans and listlessly spun it between her thumb and index finger, still looking out at the plaza.

"Siena might still carry our sorry asses," she mused hopefully.

"I hope so." He sighed. "Again I apologize for my recklessness."

Surprising. She'd been convinced Chris's weak apology would be the end of it, but... he seemed sincere. Grudges weren't something she enjoyed carrying around anyway.

"It's fine. Really--" she answered. In that moment, she watched Sander make his way towards where Marcus had-- wait, where did he go? A manhole? She sat up on the bench, leaning forward. As Sander hopped into the sewer entrance, Callan frowned. Sander knew he couldn't punch anyone besides her and Kusari the way he did, right? He wasn't going to hurt Siena or Christmas if he found them? Trying to iron out the creased of worry that that had appeared between her eyes, she reasoned that the school wouldn't let that happen. They'd taze him before he could seriously hurt her... and he'd pass out... right? Her concern persisted. Remembering Marcus's arm and how many blows Sander had gotten off before she told him to stop and he miraculously listened, she struggled with the sudden urge to break the rules and follow him.

As long as she stayed out of the way, she wouldn't be in trouble, would she? Better ask to make sure. Maybe Fredric would answer her like he had Sander.

"Hey, uh, Fredric? Can I head over to the sewers. I promise I'll stay out of the way, but... I think someone should keep an eye on Sander down there."

A pause before a short beep sounded. "Alright, Ms. Webb. Go ahead."

She slipped Sander's ID card back into his pants pocket and laid them on the bench. Nodding to Chris, Callan got up and sprinted across the plaza after Sander. Standing before the manhole, Callan once again cursed her concern and started descending the ladder.

Oh, man... that reeks, she noted, holding her hand up over her nose and mouth. It was too dark to make out anything. Within seconds, her phone was in her hand with the flashlight feature on, shining it around as she walked through the practically tangible sewer stench. She could hear thundering footsteps echoing up against the walls up ahead-- Sander, no doubt. But they sounded like they were getting closer....

Marcus slowly made his way down the ladder, as carefully as he could without losing his one-armed grip and tumbling into the darkness below. It was an awkward movement, an almost-hop down each rung as the sunlight grew dimmer even in the short distance between him and the sewer ground. The smell hit him almost immediately; it was some sort of terrible amalgamation of sewage, dank air, and some godawful addition. Basically, exactly how he expected a super old sewer to smell like. The sudden, dull clang of metal told him that his feet had reached the walkway, and he let go of the ladder, evaluating his situation.

Beyond the circle of light that beamed down into the subbterranian pit, he couldn't see a damn thing.

He muttered angrily to himself as he fished around in his pockets. Pulling out his brand new phone, he fiddled with it for just a brief moment, before a moderately sized cone of light erupted, and he swung it around the chamber, evaluating his surroundings with the addition of much needed light. Corridors seemed to branch off in every concievable direction, while a cesspool of muck sat slightly lower than the walkway he was currently on. After looking down the available routes, he picked the one directly in front of him and started walking; his light brightening up every corner in his slightly fearful state.

Goddammit. Of all the places that they could have hidden this kid, they chose the maze-like underground sewage system? He was gonna be pissed if he actually found the healer down here; but not quite as pissed as he'd be if he didn't. The image of him wandering around lost, only to come back up and find that Kusari and Siena had wiped everyone on his team sprang to his mind. Another image of him wandering around in the dark only to come face to face with Kusari and immediately get drowned in the shit river also sprang to mind. He shivered slightly, not knowing whether the sudden chill was from that little mental scenario, or the drop in temperature.

Thank god. Another source of light. He wandered over to the shaft that shone brightly into the room, looking up to see if-

He walked in a giant circle. Double goddammit.

---

BAMF!

She was acutely aware of the fact that she was falling, and though her inertia had yet to start, it would soon. Quickly, Siena sent her eyes around, left, right, and then strai--

'Marcus?!!!'

She hadn't counted on the boy still being exactly where he'd started from. Oh no.

"W-w-waaaaah!" The sound came out planted firmly between a high pitched trill that might have been mistaken for a bird and an equally high pitched squeak that was not unlike a Pika. It was unfortunate for both parties, really, that Siena's instinct won out over her mind, making her original plan to teleport to ground level a moot point.

Marcus nearly jumped out of his skin as something within the twisting tunnels shrieked loudly at him. Some sort of horrible monster that would surely be feasting on- oh no wait, it was just Siena.

'Siena!?'

He looked straight up just in time to see her crashing down upon him. There really wasn't any time to do anything except for return her yell with his own yelp of surprise, quickly followed by a yelp of pain as they both went tumbling to the ground. He heard another crunch from his arm - it hadn't completely broken again, but something had definitely come un-set. The electricty fired through the offending limb one more time, and Marcus shuddered from his position on the ground. He could feel a heavy object resting on top of him, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out what it was.

"Oh hey Siena...just dropping in?" he said, his words strained through his teeth and followed with a painful chuckle. Said chuckle was interrupted by a softer, more obviously-in-pain tone. "Please get off of me."

Again with the pain of crashing into something. Twice in less than five minutes? Maybe she shouldn't have been going wild with the teleportation thing. On the one hand, at least she hadn't smashed her face into something solid like concrete, but on the other hand...

"S-Sorry!" A pause as she glanced down. Did she break his arm?! Terror seeped into the girl's expression as she sprang to her feet, her mind suddenly alight as though Marcus had thrown gasoline into every crevice before haphazardly dropping a lit cigarette to the ground. Oh god, oh shit she didn't mean to break his arm. That wasn't supposed to happen, oh geeze. Her next words were barely separated, and if not for the shallow breathing, probably wouldn't have been. "Oh no, oh geeze, I didn't mean to b-break your--Ch-Christmas can fix that, right? Oh shit, oh shit...!" BAMF.

"Oh no...that was already like that actually." Marcus started to say, wiggling slghtly hoping that Siena would get the message and stand up. "Your little friend Kus-"

Panic rampaged like a wildebeest being hunted as Siena started making jumps as quickly as her body would let her. Just to the edge of her vision. BAMF. Land. Look. BAMF. If one closed their eyes, it might have sounded like the steady beat of a clubbing song. With her own senses being acutely amped up by the sudden rush of adrenaline, Siena blindly tried to follow the wisps of the tracking sense she had borrowed. He would leave soon, shit, shit, shit. She needed to find Christmas to fix Marcus's arm! Or at least...something like that.

"-ariHOLYSHIT" Marcus said, his statement interrupted by the girl's frantic teleporting. The world around them changed at a ridiculous speed, accompanied by an acrid smell that he couldn't place. Not that the sewers needed anymore acrid smells, but it was an assualt against the senses nonetheless.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and tell Siena to stop freaking out, the world changed again. This time, he was absolutely ecstatic that the girl had franctically teleported before he could say anything, as the world around him suddenly turned foul.

SPLOOSH

Honestly, a lot of things crossed his mind. First being repulsion, second being the absoulte determination to not open his eyes or mouth for anything less than DC politely asking (and even then he might tell the 'god' where to shove his suggestion), and third being the realization that he was about to literally drown in shit. He panicked, trying to throw Siena off of him with his good arm so he could get his head above water, and the world changed again.

BAMF!

This time, they were back on dry land. Though that didn't help Marcus's situation at all.

"Oh no, uh...um..." Too many walkways and now only a fading trace that she could barely hold onto. [i}Where was he[/i]? "Okay, wait...calm down, Siena..." Breathe. Her voice came soft. One breath, two. Honing in on the tones she sought, the brunette released a shaky breath. She should have stolen the flags off of Marcus. Maybe they would have given him medical attention if he wasn't involved in the match.

'Find Christmas. Hide him. Refresh the names.' How was she supposed to do all that? Certainly someone on the opposing team had a way of tracking her healer down if they'd known to go for the sewers.

"Ugh...Christmas, where are you...?"

BAMF!

When Siena teleported the last time, Marcus had managed to squirm out from underneath her. As she disappeared into thin air, he was left on the metal railing, covered in sewage, with the only light being the murky beam that came from his phone, which he had kept a death grip on during the entire exchange.

He lay there for just a moment, contemplating all the decisions that had got him to this point. He had expected a nice, friendly game of superpowered Capture the Flag, and less than five minutes in, this: His arm was broken, his nose was also broken, he was covered in sewage, and he was most certainly about to lose that enchilada he had paid for.

This might have been the lowest point in his life.

He slid himself backwards to the wall after expelling his lunch, and just sat there. Maybe he'd just stay here until someone came down to find him. He looked down at the ankle cuff, where Fred was definitely laughing his ass off, and grumbled.

"Freddie. This dry cleaning is going on your tab. And I'm gonna request the most expensive goddamn soap they can get.

The cuff beeped once in reply, but, unlike last time, several seconds of staticy silence passed before it ended the transmission with another beep. A third beep immediately sounded after that, followed by an almost mockingly grave Fredric, "Sorry, Mr. Howe--" Beep. The transmission cut out before he finished. Beep. "Sorry, Mr. Howell. Try not to--" a muffled wheeze could be heard on the other end, "--open your mouth too much, alright? Hang in there."

---

The trail began at an open manhole. The pungent stench of wastes was not easy on his enhanced senses, so he focused on the alluring scent of coffee instead. Forgoing the metal ladder, Sander hopped into the manhole, landing with a thud on the concrete beneath. Another delectable aroma assaulted his nostrils, threatening his control, so he did the only reasonable thing: he dashed forward, leaving the source of the smell behind.

With distance between himself and the smell of spring onions, Sander could focus on his target again. He once again barrelled down the path, sprinting as fast as he could.

'Someone's coming?!' The sound of footsteps echoed, the speed of their approach too fast for any normal person. With her team being largely incapable of tracking, Siena could only assume that meant it was someone from the other team. Gritting her teeth, she dared not glance back. Not yet. Keep moving, even if her heartbeats were thundering like a stampede of hooves against her ribs.

The tracking sense flickered further.

'No, nonono, stay. Stay...! Stay!' It was like trying to hold onto a greased rope, with each returning surge being nowhere near its previous strength.

'Why, Miss Santana. Don't you know a Santana doesn't simply give up?'

A familiar voice. One that Siena had heard go from gentle and soft to stern and rigid in the blink of an eye countless times before. Maya was right though--Siena had watched her mother on television, in parties...that woman was relentless. It wasn't something Siena had thought could be appreciated until that moment.

So Siena pushed herself a little harder in response to the steady supply of adrenaline being pumped through her veins.

BAMF!

---

Christmas hadn't moved at all in the last few minutes, eyes naturally sliding towards the bright beam of light from the flashlight in his hands--hands that were still wrapped firmly around his stomach as much to quell their shaking as it was to hold himself together in some sad way. To go from blacking out in the middle of a battlefield to sitting in the depths of a rancid sewer was probably poetic justic.

He'd consider it appropriate. Like throwing away trash. The knowledge that it was just a game hardly helped the sinking resignation that no one would come for him all the way down here. As an afterthought, to assure himself he wasn't just being wholly selfish, he appended a hope that the soldiers had placed the other girl somewhere better.

It didn't make him feel better about himself.

Luckily a faint scream cut through the near-absolute silence of the sewers, distracting him from his pathetic self-pity. But the way it echoed, he couldn't tell where it had come from. It was validating in a shameful way how much he had wanted someone to come for him, but at the same time it had been a scream. He had seen how dark and dangerous the maze of a sewer system was, having nearly stumbled several times despite an escort leading. What if something had happened to whoever had come for him?

Then they wouldn't be able to find me, his thoughts veered towards himself again as he once more affixed concern about why they had screamed.

Did the order to stay hidden still apply if someone was actually in danger? It was just a game, and Daisy had mentioned it was supposed to be non-lethal. He shifted his feet inside his shoes, feeling the resistance of the filmy sludge layer on the floor.

He was supposed to help. That was the thing "good boys" did. Adhering to a definition of behavior was at least something he could do, even if he wasn't quite sure how good of a person he actually was.

No, he was sure. He wasn't.

But his muck-stained shoes left filthy footprints behind him anyway as he stepped onto the small set of stairs leading into the nearest passageway, towards the scream (he hoped). A reminder that he had heard before--something about staying in one place if you were lost--fell to the wayside as he moved on the manufactured impulse of being a good person.

Not ten steps into his ill-advised attempt to convince himself he wasn't entirely self-serving, he caught a repeating staccato of an echoing explosion--or something that sounded like small pockets of air detonating. The way the sound reverberated and layered on each successive burst while getting louder made him think it was perhaps a better idea to just run in the opposite direction, attempts at goodwill be damned. He hadn't heard the scream again for some time, so this should be fine, right? The person was probably...fine. Or dead. And either way, he wouldn't be needed--

No, please, he cut his reflexive thoughts off before they could convince him to just retreat.

The ringing of the strange sound's echoes had stopped, and Christmas strained his ears to catch anything else, only to realize in the cacophony that was the louder noise, he had missed what sounded faintly like rapid footsteps. And they were getting closer.

Sander’s shoulder brushed the dusty wall as he made a sharp turn, heading straight for the prize. His eyes could make out the shape of the walls ahead, so he did what came most naturally. He pulled an arm back, then slammed his fist into the wall with everything he had. His hand went clean through, a deafening crash echoing through the darken halls. Sander didn’t seem to notice, his mind locked onto the destruction ahead of him as he brought his fists down again and again.

The first thunder of sound against the concrete wall to his right made Christmas jump with a sharp shout. Then the jackhammering of something on the other side breaking through the wall and the spreading cracks made blacker in the beam of the flashlight finalized the decision for him. He turned to the stairs on the opposite side and ran, nearly tripping over his own feet to get away.

It occurred to Siena that trying to see in the dark was counterproductive. Shoving a hand into her pocket, she double tapped the screen of her phone to light it up, flicking down and immediately making use of the flashlight icon. A beam of white light escaped from the back of her phone, illuminating her path just in time to hear the sound of a boom.

What. The actual. Hell?

Quickly, she moved herself to the new edge of her vision, heart racing and mind numb. The second rumble came even louder when she reappeared. She was getting closer to the sound? Bad. Bad, bad, bad. She turned the corner away from the sound, barely even having time to completely take in the end point of her next jump before the rapid succession of sound of her telltale teleportation began to fill the room.

She landed again. That rumbling really hadn't sounded good.

"Christmas?! We've gotta get out of here, wherever the hell you are!"

A female voice rang out in the distance, but between the deafening impacts against the wall and the echoes of the strange explosion noises again, Christmas couldn't make out the words. His thoughts were focused on escaping whatever was obliterating a wall to get to him. Though he had wanted someone to come find him, he hadn't meant for them to kill him.

As the last of the debris bounced harmlessly off him, Sander launched himself into the room through the opening he had created. He turned his head toward the scent, resuming his inhuman dash.

Christmas had rounded the corner of the adjacent room just as the sound of shattering cement eased into the crumbling of rubble and then ceased completely. Whoever it was had broken through. He didn't turn around, taking the path of least resistance towards another short set of stairs that led back into one of the large sewer conduits. With no time to think, he dashed towards the right.

A figure cut through into the beam of light Siena was using for light. Too sudden for her to get a good look. No time to check, hopefully that was Christmas, or at least whatever was breaking down walls in the sewers. Siena threw herself through the motions of a sprinting start, one arm outstretched towards the figure coming straight at her as she sent herself a short distance forward, blinking out of sight in a puff of smoke only to reappear closer to her hopeful mark with her makeshift flashlight.

"Grab on if you want out!" The shout was about as commanding as a frightened sixteen year old girl could muster, but hopefully it would be enough.

Christmas crashed into a person just as he turned back to check if he was being chased, dropping his flashlight in the collision. The impact wasn't as rough as his cry of surprise, but he also distinctly noticed that this was a girl thanks to two particular sensations where his torso collided with hers. Before he could reel back, she had grabbed him and the space around him vanished instantly.

Sander rounded the corner just in time to catch a flash of light and a female voice. As well as his roommate’s turned back. He leapt forward, barely an arm length away from that head of blond hair.

Then they vanished. His momentum launched him forward, right into the unforgiving embrace of the concrete walkway. He landed heavily with a resounding thud, but with the blood high still activated, he could still shrug off the impact. Pushing himself to his feet, he sniffed the air again, catching the faint scent of coffee still lingering in the air. And something else, sweeter. Like fruit. Jam. With an angry grunt deep in his throat, he turned, heading back to the entrance of the manhole.

He had to get to them. The flame in his chest flickered and dwindled, heralding an end to the blood mage’s rampage.

---

---

Rosa had busied herself with her own assortment of snacks while the off-duty teams talked amongst themselves. Skittles, popcorn, pistachios, soda. All of them absolute essentials for this gut-busting fight-to-be. The guards had declined her offer of viewing snacks earlier in their usual brusque tones. Operating procedure kept them from accepting the array of sweets and snacks. She knew that but, come on, did they really think that Rosa Schur was a snitch? Grumpy wouldn't mind her guards getting some sustenance for optimal job performance, right? Ah well, more for her then.

"Freddy..." she whinged into the handset by her mousepad, "How much longer?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'patience is a virtue'. Bleh."

"Yes, I am keeping the popcorn far from the keyboard this time. And the soda."

"Oh gosh, he's actually going dragon again. You did tell him he could stay human right? Ah well, offensive power is a good enough trade for utility and defense. Probably."

"I knew we should've gotten him a pair of those Hulk pants! It'd only take Hephy, like, two seconds to make! Do you really expect me to believe that a guy like him doesn't keep a roll of stretchy purple spandex in his workshop?"

"Urgh, fine."

"Sander versus Callan? Oh man, this is gonna be epic!"

"Oh, they're taking this pretty seriously. Look at all of them in their starting positions, how nice! I hope it's not too serious, though. It'd be bad if one of them got really hurt."

"Pffft! Vamp Boy could have a football career if those canisters were oval-shaped. Why isn't that a thing, by the way? A Magical Football League? I bet Kleinfelder would fund the cr-- Holy damn, Chris is really going for it! Breaking opponents' formations by provoking them outright. An unusual but effective tactic, just look at that dragon go!"

"Screw football! This kid could be a rodeo champion! Look at him-- Oh. Oh, that looks kinda-- Right. Chris'll be fine. Okie dokes. Under the right conditions, Sander certainly outclasses most of his peers in maneuverability and strength. Let's see how he fares against Supergirl."

"Whew, Cal's really getting into it, huh? I didn't think she'd be the 'down and dirty' type. Yes, I was talking about combat. C'mon Freddy, what the hell!"

"Ooh, Angel enters the fray! Her leadership prowess was certainly tested in the first battle but it looks like she'll be trying to redeem herself in this matchup!"

"Drago lunging through the fire and flames! What a badass move! Oh. Oh dear. Well, she's definitely a screamer, huh."

---

Sander and Grant vs. Callan

"A two-on-one, huh? Callan showed some real tenacity in the first day battle but she might have met her match here. Sander's gonna be a tricky opponent with his equal, if not more potent, capabilities. She'll have to watch out for Grant and his classic on-the-spot thinking too! What exciting stuff!"

"D-do you think they know how it looks from an outside perspective? I know Sander's self-control is sketchy in combat but... Yeah, maybe it's best not to tell them. Remind me to get some martial arts instructors for those two."

"Oooh, better watch out for 2 Chainz there! Two flags, snatched right under her nose. Wait, what'll we call him if he gets a third chain? Jerry, could you look up some chain related rapper names for me? No? First the snacks, now this. Y'know, I'd expect this sort of behaviour from your cousin Erwin, but not you. I'm VERY disappointed right now."

"Oh, so NOW you take the popcorn, huh? I've had it up to here with you, Jerry."

"Ooooh, Grant better-- OHHH, LOOK AT THAT INTERCEPTION! DID YOU SEE THAT? MAGIC FOOTBALL, I'M PATENTING THAT AS SOON AS THIS IS DONE. JERRY, SWEEP UP THAT POPCORN."

"They're really going at each other, oh dear. Cal looks like she's gonna-- SANDER, NO! OH MY GOD, WHY WOULD HE DO THAT? Yes, I know why, Fred, I meant-- Ahem. Well, that was a fascinating distraction. A rather unusual method of throwing your opponent off while also obtaining some energy for the long haul. Freddy, keep your hand on that button."

"No. No freaking way. No-- NOOOOO WAYYYYY. SHE DID THAT. SHE DID THAT! That's the most goddamn majestic hammer throw I've ever seen. I-- Yes, Freddy, I did watch the 2016 Olympics. This beats even that."

"AND GRANT BLOCKED IT! Ooh, that looked like a heavy hit. And it looks like... A-are those his pants?! HAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHA-- HA. HAHA-- Woah! Ow! HAHAHAHAHAHA. Pick me back up, Jerry, I can't... I can't breathe! HAHAHAHAHAHA, ow..."

"DID YOU SEE THAT, FREDDY? What a resourceful guy. Cal is completely blinded! She takes a tactical retreat and... Ooh! They're not letting her go that easily! Sisterhood or no, those pants certainly ain't travelling anywhere!"

"Looks like it's the end for Cal! Sander and Grant have got her completely pinned in this tag teamup! Sander's making the most of Grant's pin but Cal's still looking rather feisty aaand-- Fred. You better have that button ready. Fred, it-- Oh, he did it. He stopped himself! I didn't think..."

"... And that's it for Supergirl! An impressive effort but with two formidable opponents working in tandem against her, it was a quick and dirty fight. Grant, once again displaying his prowess for back line support, while Sander..."

"You know what, Freddy? I think I'm more optimistic about Vamp Boy now. He'll find his way, I just know it."

---

Marcus vs. Kusari

"Mobility versus durability, what a matchup! Kusari's abilities offer an crazy amount of versatility but will that be enough to take down our resident Jumpman, Marcus?"

"Whoa, Kusari there, making the most of that raptor leg and going straight on the offensive! She launches into a Bruce Lee-style flying kick and..."

"Eughh... Oh yeah, that's definitely broken, oh god. Mngh. Jerry, bring me a bucket. Just in case."

"Marcus recovers slightly with a rewind! That arm still looks limper than your grandma's breadsticks but it seems that he's not going down without a fight! Only one flag down from Marcus. Let's see if he can keep the rest of them."

"Oooh, going right in for a knee strike. Looks absolutely brutal, Freddy. Kusari's pulling no punches today! Or knees, for that matter. Marky McFly is pretty beat now, down two flags! If he's trying to look like a half-chewed deer in the headlights, it's definitely working! Looks like this matchup will be ending quite soon."

"Kusari seems to be... negotiating surrender? Hesitation in a battlefield is never a good plan, kid. Bad plan, bad plan! Just look at that cocksure smile and... Marcus strikes back! In one swell foop, two flags and a sucker punch to the schnozz! Kusari's not looking too happy and... What is she doing?"

"Oh god. Oh god. OH GOD. AAARGGH. I'm not... I'm not watching this. Eurghh, I know you're nigh-immortal but... MMGH. YOU GOTTA DRAW THE FREAKING LINE SOMEWHERE."

"Urgh. That's it. I'm done with this. No more watching. Gonna avoid that side of the screens. Urgh, get that bucket ready, Jerry."

---

Angelique vs. Christopher

"Who's your money on for this matchup, Jerry? No-- Yes, I know what your orders are. It's a figure of speech, come on!"

"A big ol' dragon's gonna be pretty hard to beat but Angel's got some guts of her own. Those screams aren't something to be underestimated, that's for sure!"

"Do you think we could arrange a badass angel costume for her? Like a metallic wingsuit! Oh man, that would be too cool!"

"Heph's got plenty of time, I'm sure!... Of course, this is important!"

"Oooh, Angel absolutely nailing Chris with that super screech! Chris giving her a good thwack in return! Argh, both of them keep taking hits like a champ!"

"Oh, that body slam's gonna be brut-- AND SHE COUNTERS HIM RIGHT BACK. LOOK AT THAT VOCAL UPPERCUT. No. TAIL UPPERCUT TOO. What a beautiful somersault! How's this match gonna end? I've got no goddamn clue, Freddy!"

"Another body slam. No, a pin this time! Angel's really on the ropes now! But she's on her back. Chris, what are you even doing?! She's gonna-- "

"Yep, she did it. Drago totally had that coming."

"A double whammy right to the face! Chris is absolutely out! Looks like Dragonforce didn't stand a chance against the Angel of Death after all, Freddy!"

"No, I didn't google those references beforehand! Who do you think I am?"

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Why am I here?

Lawrence hated the prospect of asking pointless questions, but he couldn't help but return to that one throughout the day. With each time it returned came a growing sense of irritation. It wasn't simply that the classes were a waste of his time- both being that they were pointless in nature, and that he was supposed to be in lessons far more advanced than what they were being given. It wasn't even that he was separated from his peers, most of which he was only distantly acquainted with anyway. No, those two points were explained by what had been written on his schedule:

"Experimental Unit B"

It made absolutely no sense to him, and nothing annoyed Lawrence more than pointlessness. Even Elizabeth had only been considered for a spot on Shane's team, and she was far more powerful than himself. On top of that, if they were for some reason trying to put him onto a team- why this new one? Why not put him with the people he had known far longer? It couldn't solely be because of his ability to keep the crazy ones- like the bloodsucker- in check. USARILN East had never been shy about simply isolating them and not sending them out with groups. There wasn't a reason to put him on a team, let alone this team, so what the hell was going on?

The firearms instructor bit was another layer of irritation thrown onto the pile. Again, surely they could have had a guard or somebody else do the instructing for these people. He wasn't clueless enough to not catch that they were trying to build camaraderie by having one of their own do the teaching- but again, he shouldn't even be one of their own. While he was happy to help someone who needed it, being obligated to was a different matter entirely, and they could have at least let him know ahead of time.

With all of this and more gnawing at him, he chose a seat at random and began opening his copy of meditations, trying to ignore the lessons that were of no use to him, and also his classmates in case he tried to pick an uncharacteristic fight. He was apparently going to be expected to work with these people for a long time, there was no use in potentially making any enemies on the first day. Even his new copy of Meditations seemed to bring him little comfort though, and as soon as they were allowed to leave for lunch he grabbed his old jacket and headed for his dorm- not caring if he ended up missing his meal.

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As if sensing his mood before he came in, no Lizzy rushed to greet Lawrence as he entered the room. Slipping off his new jacket- yet another point of irritation, he wouldn't have wasted the money if he thought his old one would be returned- he hung it up on one of the empty hooks by the door before making his way towards the kitchen. More specifically: Towards the coffee pot within. After fixing up a fresh cup, he went over to his bed while it brewed, to face an expectant Lizzy.

Stare.

"I don't have any food."

With a huff she turned away from him, but was stopped by a sudden command:

"Wait."

Lawrence sat down next to her on the bed then, running a hand along the length of the curious dog's body. It was rare for the mage to take that sort of tone with her, and with curiosity she watched him until he finally decided to speak again.

"Sorry, but you're going to have to trust me for a bit girl."

Still keeping his hand running down the length of the dog, he enveloped the two of them in a white light. In response, the dog's left leg began to kick outward, the muscles in it being rocked by spasms.

"Whimper"

She tried to scramble away in confusion, whining the entire time, but Lawrence wrapped his other arm around the dog's chest.

"Stay, Lizzy. I promise I won't hurt you."

Whimper

The struggling stopped, but the whining continued. Lawrence on the other hand was struggling to deal with a new concept regarding his magic: exhaustion. While it was true that his original power might begin to tire him after excessively long use, it was nothing compared to the fatigue that was creeping into him now. He began counting the seconds, and after reaching fifty the white light finally faltered and he let go, feeling drained in a way that he never had experienced before. Lizzy took the opportunity to break away and stare at him for a few long moments, before giving a snort of derision and sauntering off. Somehow, Lawrence knew exactly what that meant.

At least give me some food next time.

With a sigh in response, he made his way back over to the kitchen and finished what he started. Fifty seconds from when he started counting, and maybe ten before that. So a minute? It matched up with what he had felt the power could do, so his instincts were as reliable as ever. The exercise had made him feel a bit better, if nothing else. At least it was one more unknown taken care of. The coffee would hopefully make him feel better still- and perhaps the rest of the day would start looking up as well.

He didn't count on it though.

---

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Before heading back to class Lawrence had checked the mini fridge- and seeing the note left for him- stuffed a few pills into each of the pockets of both of his jackets. The medication hadn't been refrigerated when she carried it to Ground Zero, so he doubted that sticking it in the mini fridge had been anything except a formality. Then, with his old jacket around his shoulders and fresh coffee in his hand, he made his way back to the classroom. It was far too late to bother with joining the others for lunch at that point, so he had simply stuffed a few pieces of bread down his throat and washed it down with coffee.

Once back in class, he listened to the instructions once more before participating in the only classroom activity of that day: Electives. Again, he didn't give much of a damn what he was saddled with, so he only briefly weighed what sounded useful against what sounded interesting before returning his attention to their combat practice explanation.



The mention of his failure to guard Christmas added yet another layer of irritation to the day's events, but he tried not to let it get to him. Lawrence knew that he had done everything short of putting his own life in serious jeopardy to keep the unstable kid safe, so he tried not to take it as too deep a criticism of his efforts. If the point of the training that day was instilling the same sort of mindset he had going into the battle: Then he could do nothing but approve of it. Healers need protecting. It was certainly the first lesson he would try to teach his classmates.

As far as the composition of the teams went though, Lawrence had little opinion. Hazel was the only one he knew the capabilities of. Allison and Sophia were complete strangers to him, and they had never even talked. Zoe...

He turned to the woman, apparently possessing the seat next to his in class. Well, he knew next to nothing about her. He felt, at least, that he could rely on her in a battlefield situation, although that was just based on gut feeling rather than experience. As for her power- he had no idea whatsoever what the woman was capable of. Lawrence barely had time to keep track of what his own team was doing during the battle, let alone the other two. Still, he could at least rely on her until the fight was over, although sometime told him that dealing with her afterwards might be more volatile than he'd like.

Soon though regular classes were resumed and Lawrence returned his attention once more to Meditations. He kept to himself much like the previous classes, and when it came time for their half hour break he quickly made an exit for his dorm once more and set about getting what he would need for the upcoming fight.

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What he needed, it turned out, was a thermos of coffee. That was the only change to what he had worn earlier- an outfit almost identical to what he had been deployed in, down to the exact same jacket. When they arrived at the outpost he quelled an urge to speak to Rosa about his questions- there were far too many people around- and instead went about hunting about the teammates he recognized. Hazel, who was currently stripping, and Zoe, who had already stripped before arriving.

Unconsciously his left left hand crept up until it covered his face. Why was it the women he was involved with this year couldn't keep their clothes on? One more mystery to add to the pile today- although one that notably didn't bring as much irritation as the others. Figuring that Hazel would hunt him down on her own, not knowing if she had managed to meet their other teammates, Lawrence walked over to Zoe first. Raising his thermos in greeting, he admirably managed to maintain eye contact in spite of her state of dress. Occasionally sparing glances at the monitors along the wall.

"I admit, I would have preferred meeting again in the library. How've you been holding up?"

Siena crashes into things the series was turning out to be a major success. Three in less than five minutes. Though she hadn't had much time to pick up the speed she expected, the impact was enough to tip Siena into another jump as she instinctively closed an arm around whomever she just crashed into, her mind's eye visualizing the last safe place that wasn't significantly higher than her current level--or, well. Not as high as a building top, at least.

She and her passenger tumbled seemingly out of a puff of smoke, Siena not quite being able to keep her footing as the duo landed--complete with an awkward, unsteady stumble from the brunette--from about half a foot off the ground into the freezer she'd searched earlier. Safe. Oh god, they were safe, right? Before she could come up with an answer for that, the adrenaline seemed to decide not to work at full power--or maybe it was just that she had stopped long enough to let the disorientation and.

'Oh no. Oh, nonono. Hold it i--!' Nope.

One dry heave, two...and then the self-made sampler from lunch escaped from Siena's mouth as she staggered back to her knees. Hopefully that didn't get her passenger too much.

When the world snapped back into existence around him, Christmas fell backwards onto the floor with a shout and a loud thud, waiting for his vision to stop swaying before doing anything else. Somewhere nearby, he thought he heard someone throw up, but it was the hot splash of partially liquified food and digestive fluids on his arm that really drove the point home.

Groaning, he instinctively tried swiping it away with a hand, only to realize too late that it was now on his arm and his other hand.

It took just a few seconds later for him to notice he was on the floor of a large freezer. And that whoever had lost their lunch was right beside him. A noise between a whimper and a shaky breath escaped his mouth, but he didn't say anything beyond that as the girl stumbled backwards after upheaving the contents of her stomach. He was somewhat glad the sewer's stench had nearly numbed his sense of smell to the acrid odor of vomit nearby. Wiping his dirty hand on his shirt (he likely wouldn't be able to save this one anyway), Christmas finally looked up at the girl who had teleported him out of the sewers, not envying the aftereffects of her power.

Despite the dribble of saliva and vomit still clinging to her lips, she had the air of someone who belonged in the upper echelon of prestige. It was something about the way she looked put together, with a fitted navy coat, grey top, and stylish shorts that seemed selected to complement each other and not just snatched from a drawer or duffel bag without much care. Long locks of her brown hair partially dislodged from her ponytail, a cut on her knee, and the grimy layer of sewage on her boots were testaments to whatever chaos had gone on beyond his notice, but they didn't mar what he considered the classic beauty of her face and slender figure. Striking, golden eyes locked his attention, however, and Christmas turned away before he could stare too long at them.

'Stings, sick, god just let this game be over...' Wishful thinking, really. Coughing the last bits of her less-than-stellar "introduction", the brunette cautiously glanced at her..."traveling companion." The boy with the Squishable Manatee. Despite the situation, she couldn't help but feel her lips try (key word: try) to pull into a smile at the thought. His attire almost reminded her of Marcus--khaki shorts and a grimy t-shirt (courtesy, she assumed, of his stay in the sewage), and sneakers. The sight of the filth reminded Siena that she probably wouldn't be very willing to wear her particular outfit again anytime soon. If ever.

"S...sorry...about that." Voice still shaky and crackling, Siena glanced at the phone that had likely gotten her to the boy in time to avoid whatever was making that sound, given the path she'd taken to avoid approaching the source, sighing as she forced herself shakily to her feet, eyes already starting to fade from their artificial golden hues back to a natural grey. Tapping the screen, Siena was quick to navigate back to her synchronized reading app, mind already whirring in distress. "I th-think...woog..." Alright, talking was a bad idea for a bit.

She focused instead on the new words on the page.

He barely caught the apology in his fluster over not staring, but when she articulated some strange sounds afterwards, Christmas couldn't help but look back at her from his position on the freezer's floor. He might have said something, but the now-grey eyes were steeled at the screen of her phone and the intensity of that concentration overrode any modicum of social etiquette he could have mustered in the situation.



Sander moved toward where he believed was the exit, only to find a figure blocking his way. He narrowed his eyes when the beam of light hit him, but didn’t slow his stride. Something sickeningly sweet filled the air. His breath hitched, then the mouth-watering scents of food in the air were replaced by the heavy heat of rust and sewage. He spared Callan and Marcus a side glance, before pushing her aside and continuing on with his pursuit.

Stepping out of the way as Sander shoved her shoulder, Callan lowered her phone and narrowed her eyes back up at the passing mage. Her amethyst gaze locked with his-- still red. She'd been agitated before, but now..... What was that guy's proble-- wait. Why was he heading back towards the entrance? Looking back the other way, she held her flashlight up and took a few tentaive steps towards a corner up ahead. She didn't see Christmas with him, so maybe he wasn't down here? But where was--

"M-Marcus?"

The light from her phone illuminated the sorry looking form of her roommate. Completely drenched in soggy sewer filth, Marcus was also sporting what looked like a broken arm and busted nose. Naturally, he didn't seem to be in the best of moods as he sat there alone in the dark. Callan had half a mind to spin around and run, pretending she didn't see anything for the sake of perhaps helping him preserve whatever shreds of dignity he was trying to hang on to at this point. Instead, she quickly lowered her phone so he wouldn't have to add 'blindness' to his list of obvious troubles.

"Are... are you okay?" she asked, immediately kicking herself-- could she have asked a worse question?

Marcus sat with his head against the wall, still silently contemplating. He squinted a bit as a light came around the corner, waiting for his eyes to adjust and make out the silhouette that was currently blinding him. He chuckled to himself a bit as the aquamarine hair came into view first, sighing loudly.

"Oh hey Cal." he said, inwardly laughing a bit at her question. He was covered in filth, and a few of his body parts had been smashed, and here she was to ask if he was okay. "If we're being completely honest; not really, no. he closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall, letting out another sigh and giving her a tired side glance and she knelt next to him.

Wait a second. Did she have a bite mark on her neck?

"Is that a bite mark on your neck?" he asked in disbelief, his tired look quickly turning to one of concern. "The hell happened to you?" he added, as if he wasn't currently the one in the sadder shape. There was only one person on their team who could possibly do something like that, and he was gonna be pissed if his suspicions were true.

"D'aha--" A cross between some random word and a laugh as a lopsided grin wormed its way across her face. With a sheepish glance at some spot on the floor next to his shoe, she self-consciously slapped her free hand over the mark.

"Vampires. What're ya gonna do?" she tried to play it off. Eager to not talk about that, especially with Marcus, she didn't give him a chance to respond. "What about you?"

"Oh. You know. The usual." Marcus said, returning his head to the wall. "Couple broken bones and a nice dip in whatever sewage cocktail is running though this place. Figured I'd chill down here until Fred sent someone to haul me back. Seems like the safer option, at least." he finished, a small smile crossing his face. "Any chance you're that someone?"

Explaining she was down here to keep an eye on Sander didn't seem like something she could get away with saying without context and she really didn't want to revisit the neck biting scenario.

"Sure," she scoffed. Covered in septic sewer guck or no, if he needed help, she wasn't about to just leave him here. She was quiet for a moment, looking between his arm, nose, and, subconsciously, his scars. "What happened between you and Kusari up there?" she asked, blinking away the traces of an unacknowledged thought.

"Well, she broke my arm during a fun game of flag football. Then she kneed me right in the face, also during a fun game of flag football." Marcus said, the irritation is his voice clearly evident. "After that, she cut of her arms and they grew back as weird tentacle arms. Which I'm just now realizing is how the raptor leg fits in." he said, the thought trailing off slightly.

"But yeah. You pull me outta here and I will gladly hand my flags over. Easier than getting punched in the face for them." He raised his good arm up to her for assistance for the second time today, still clenching his hand at her like a small child would.

Kusari did that? Lost in thought, Callan stood and helped Marcus up in a robotic fashion. Unlike Sander, Kusari was an arbiter. She didn't have a stigma to sate or, like Chris, a dragon brain to control. Not to her knowledge anyway. Why would she do that? No way Marcus was lying. Had it been on accident? She'd seemed a little verbally coarse the other day, but cool aside from that. Desperately, Callan tried to find a benefit of the doubt to give her as she mulled over what Marcus had just said. Amidst her blizzard of confusion, red hot anger was slowly bubbling to the surface.

"I don't know about hurting anyone, but we can't just treat this like a game."

That was what she'd said and Callan had wondered what she meant. It wasn't like she'd said they should hurt each other, but... she hadn't exactly said they shouldn't either. Accident, she decided with a dejected sigh. Until she learned otherwise, at least. Either way, there wasn't anything she could do about it right now.

A few seconds late, Callan shook her head at Marcus's offer, "Can't have you tainting my team's victory with your free points."

"God, I kind of figured we’d be able to do something like this without tearing each other apart like a bunch of feral animals." Marcus said, wincing. It had come out far more bitterly than he'd meant it to, and he knew that he wasn't going to be earning himself any favors by having just said that.

But it was the truth. Perhaps he'd just hoped that'd they'd be able to compete civilly, to treat their own fellow subnaturals as anything other than enemies. Self doubt raced into his mind. Was he in the wrong for showing restraint? He had felt powerful when he punched Kusari out of anger, and there was the matter of the second little vision he had gotten shortly afterwards. Was that his way of being conditioned into being a mindless animal...kind of like what Sander's power turned him into? These were comrades, teammates, and some of them were friends, and yet they were still willing to tear eachother apart at the drop of a hat.

"You at least gonna give me a five second head start?" he asked, not looking Callan in the eyes.

Could be worse, she wanted to say, but anyone in his current state should be allowed a bit of bitterness.

A head start?

"Oh...," she'd figured he hadn't brought it up to be polite. Cool. Now she got to tell him and the game wasn't even half over yet. "Don't worry about that... I'm out." She sighed her way through the last two words-- still a little salty about her defeat. So long as he didn't ask how, it should be fine.

Marcus was surprised; how was Callan out before the game was even halfway done? He prevented himself from showing any outward signs of surprise, trying to at least help her maintain some sense of dignity. A hilarious sentiment given his current predicament.

"Alright, well I don't know about you, but I down want to spend anymore time than necessary down in this stinking hole. I hope you know which way is out, because my sense of direction is completely screwed up at this point."

"Do you think Fred'll be mad if I just nonchalantly slip these flags off?" he added, wiping the grime from around his phone's flashlight so he could see. Thank god Rosa hadn't skimped out on these things, or he would have been waaaaaay angrier than he actually was right now. After pressing the button a few times to make sure it still did work, he huffed with eagerness, ready to climb out of here.

Callan nodded and began to lead to the way.

She chuckled at Marcus's suggestion; couldn't really blame him for wanting to quit. "I'd be more concerned about your teammates," she said, "Seems like they're trying pretty hard to win...."

"Hell, with the way Siena was teleporting me around, and the fact that I just saw Sander down here, I was kind of hoping the game would be over by now." he said, regaining his chipper demeanor. "Plus, I'm not in any state to do much but wipe slime on and totally gross out the other members of your team; but I suppose I can try that as a tactic."

He chuckled a bit, trying to imagine Siena's face if a boy covered in sewage just straight-up tackled her. She seemed like the nice, clean, prim and proper type, so that kind of action would probably be the death of one of them, if not both. Then there was Kusari, who would probably just rip his arms off and beat him to a pulp with them if he tried that. Hell, even Callan would probably deck him for that; a hypothesis he was not willing to try at this very moment.

"She's teleporting?" Callan grinned. Siena hadn't mentioned anything about that. She sounded so confident about being able to find the healers, she hadn't thought to ask more questions.

"I'll get to you in a flash." Oh yeah. She had said that, hadn't she? Callan shook her head incredulously. She really needed to pick Siena's brain about that power some time. With the most pressing matters out of the way, the unpleasant lunchroom conversation was left in its wake. She briefly mulled over whether or not to bring it up; ultimately concluding it was a horrible idea, she decided she'd rather jump into the sewage.

"I'd say 'go for it', but I don't know if I'd be able to keep up if this turns into an all out prank war or something."

"Oh yeah. At least, I'm pretty sure that what that was. I didn't exactly get to ask her too many questions before she disappeared." Marcus said, rotating his broken arm a little bit. He mentally cursed at himself for not rewinding when Siena fell on him, or when she dropped him straight into the poo-river; but everything had happened so fast that he hadn't thought of it at the time. Panic rewinds were something that he was gonna have to work a little harder on.

"God. Can you imagine a prank war at this place? How many casualties do you think there'd be if someone put a whoopie cushion on the Director's chair?" he said, chuckling a bit.

Callan sniggered. "That's the last person I'd ever want to prank." Nearing the ladder leading out of the sewers, she turned off the flashlight, briefly checking her facebook notifications in the process. Nadda. "Alright, let's get you the hell outta here," she smiled half-heartedly with a tired sigh. Her cheek throbbed annoyingly every time she smiled-- something Marcus had a nasty habit of making her do. She motioned for him to go first.

"Alright, just promise you'll catch me if I fall!" Marcus said, wrapping his good arm around one of the rungs and hoisting himself onto the ladder. The trip upwards was very difficult, with him having to basically cement his feet on a rail before he could let go and grab another rung. There were a few close calls, and one or two less than dignified yelps as Marcus lost his grip for a moment and thought he was about to go tumbling back down the hole, but they eventually reached the surface.

Now he just had to find the rest of his team.




Right. What was he doing? Oh, that's right. Angel just said to go find Christmas in the sewers. Remembering his objective, Grant turned on his heel and was on his merry way to the manhole that Sander had broke for a bit ago. He guessed there wasn't any big rush because Sander was already in the sewers, so he just took his time walking, catching his breath from his encounter with Callan. Lord knows he's probably going to need it for what might come next.

Sander heaved himself up back on the field with a final leap, eyes immediately zeroing on a building in the distance. Without missing a beat, he moved, rapid steps took him toward the derelict building. Then a figure entered his field of vision. Dark hair, dark eyes, polka dots flags…Grant. His teammate. The blood high had relaxed its grip enough for Sander to form some scraps of coherent thoughts, but he was still having some difficulty.

Focus.

…work with your team.

He made up his mind. If he couldn’t think, at least there would be someone who could.

As he neared Grant, Sander lowered his shoulder and looped an arm around Grant’s knees, lifting the boy up and over his shoulder. With that done, he resumed his relentless sprint.

Grant blinked, and the next second, he could see Sander exit out of the manhole that he was heading toward. What was he doing? His eyes seemed to be set on him. He got closer and closer and- "Wha...?!" Were the surprised words that left his mouth when he was suddenly lifted from his feet and placed over Sander's shoulder, whose sprint only continued.

Grant looked around as his vision hopped up and down from the movements of Sander's sprint. He turned his head toward him with a raised brow before he finally asked, "What's the plan here?"

To which Sander offered no response. He maintained his speed, and soon enough, the two boys were already in front of the crumbling building. Some distant part of his minds recognized this as a restaurant of sort, but it hardly mattered as Sander kicked the door in one quick motion, then placed Grant down.

There was no answer from Sander, and that only told Grant that this was just a snap decision. Didn't matter. He was probably on course for where Christmas was. Confirmation quickly struck as Sander set him down, and he took a quick look around the crumbling restaurant. Not the most preferable of entrances. If they were here, big chance that they know that both him and Sander were here now.

'One more, one more, one more...!'

The sound of something breaking in alerted Siena to the fact that she was running out of time, and quickly. Much more quickly than she had initially calculated--probably Sander. Maybe more. One. More.

She thought she'd have more time for the experiment, and though it was largely a success, she was terrified of the fact that someone was already there. Her heart thundered. Dominic would last, his valley of shadows weak, tiring. A broken man, but useful for her purposes. Just like he'd been for Vale's, but the other...keeping her ambition in check would be hard, but it wasn't a bad thing...right?

Two.

The world plunged into dull gray. Soundlessness as the world took a snapshot of itself when the air circled her. 'It's like teleporting, I guess, but I have to physically move.' Not as easy to utilize as Nightcrawler, really. Less instant for her, even if it meant finer control over...well, just about everything. The girl released a breath, pocketing her phone and wading her way through the valley of shadows that Dominic had gained. He would last, if for no reason more than the fact that he was a broken man. Broken emotionally, broken physically.

'Just wanted to go back to this. Where nothing hurts, and nothing matters.'

Steady pace against the rules of the world (it felt easier than she'd expected--maybe an effect of Dreamcatcher's presence already having broken them?), Siena moved towards the entry of the restaurant. Two faces. 'Don't touch them. Just get close enough for them to hear.' She came to a stop just out of arm's reach of the duo, her mind yearning for something more than the dull world and yet oddly at peace in the gray silence. Couldn't touch what she didn't want with her in the quiet.

'I hope they resist.' Not her.

She let go, the ambient sounds of the world at large returning all at once in chaos as Dominic's eccentric teleportation released her from its valleys. Serena Clarke was likely her only hope of winning, but she'd won time and time again. Forced even Eli Evers into her will with her siren's voice.

"Take off your flags. Now."

And she could only pray that the magic of Serena Clarke's EO ability would do the trick.

Grant was glancing around the place after he was set down by Sander. Could be in a much better state then it was. This entire place in general could be in a much better state. But alas. Right, focus. Have to find Christmas and get their points. Maybe he should follow Sander? That seemed like a good idea-

He blinked for a second. There was someone right in front of them, they were right there. It looked like... what was her name? He's seen her before, he could've sworn. He fought with her. Siena? Was that her name? Yeah, yeah that was it. Grant stepped back, shocked from the sudden appearance, until something broke through his shock.

Her voice. Her voice that stated a simple order. There's no way that Grant was going to do that. Right? Well, if he had just looked down in time, his hand was already gripping his chest flag. "Shit..!" He'd let out as he heard the velcro tore. He had to stop himself. Concrete was too heavy, there's no way he can hold himself up with that. His eyes darted around quickly... Sander. He seemed to be struggling too, but first. Grant sent out a chain, making contact with Sander's already ripped shirt. With a pull from his chain, the shirt was off. Grant willed his wrists together as they reached up, doing his best to grip his hands into tight fists. Swiftly, the shirt wrapped around his fists and his wrists, willing the material to weld tightly. His hands weren't getting to any more of his flags now. But then he remembered. He looked back at Sander to see how he was fairing.

A whiff of strawberry jam made Sander turned his head, but it was too late. His body obeyed her voice, his left hand reached over to tear off the flag on his right wrist. He forced them to move, but they didn’t. Dark rage bubbled up in his chest as he turned his eyes forward, anger evidenced on every line of his features.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”-He snarled, barely noticing the tear as his shirt gave and was whisked away. Still, his hands still made their way steadily toward his remaining flag.

Obviously not doing too well. That was his last flag. Grant couldn't face Siena alone, he needed his teammate, and no one else was coming right now. What to use to help him, to bind his hands. Was there anything he could use? Sander was nearly naked already, so-

It hit him. Grant kept his arms pointed down as he looked back to Sander. He apologized in his mind to him before he shot his chain out and made contact with Sander's only remaining article of clothing. His boxers. He lashed the chain sideways, and with a quick jerk movement, a tear. The boxers have come off. Grant kept his eyes up to his hands, bringing them up to them and he began to wrap them around his reaching hands, and then his wrists. Just to make sure, he forced his hands down before welding them tightly. That should do it for the both of them.

Ripping sounds filled the air, and only the first two from the velcro flags. As Grant created his makeshift bindings, Siena took the opportunity. She was close enough, and they were preoccupied.

'Now!'

She threw herself forward just as Sander's hands were pulled down, blindly reaching for the final flag on the taller boy's head, her body already gearing up to let the air swallow her into that eerily silent world.

Grant spotted Siena enter his sight while he was focusing on welding the boxers on Sander's wrists and hands. Shit, he had to stop her. Instinctively, at that thought, as Siena reached up, the chains swung up, bringing Sander's wrists up with his boxers, on direct course in giving a nice underhand serve right to her chin.

Sander saw the hand going for his last flag. Instinctively, he titled his head back, vaguely recalling something about protecting them through the haze of the blood high. What he didn’t expect though, was his hand raising up without his consent, and—were those his boxers? Focus. He batted the irrelevant thought aside, noting the chain connected to the fabric. Chain. Grant. Teammate. Good enough.

She wasn't going to make it. She could already feel the air starting to split--was it supposed to be that fast? Or was it because Serena was gone?--and her trajectory wouldn't get her to the flag, even without resistance to the motion. Mentally swearing, Siena tried to push herself to a stop, but the most she could do was jerk against her inertia. She was going to eat the floor in ab--

Impact. Her chin blossomed in a bruising pain, finishing the job she started as her head moved back slightly to deal with the blow. It hurt despite the cushioning. The world fell into silence even as she hit the floor with an unceremonious landing.

No sound accompanied it.

'Reckless. Stupid of you, Siena...' Scrambling to her feet against the odd weight, Siena shook her head to clear it. Needed to get out of there. At least she'd gotten a few of the flags. If her words could form, she would have sworn to herself. Two against one wasn't going to end in her favor with Serena gone, even if she abused Dominic's shadowy world as best she could. Her eyes trailed back to the two before her, eyes trailing u--

'That is a dick.'

The blunt realization numbed the faint throbbing of her chin, though Siena wasn't entirely certain that she appreciated it. The brunette furrowed her brow and gave a silent scoff as she turned on her heel to make her way back to her mark. Well, it was certainly no Gerwulf, that was to be sure.

Making her way through the way she came, her mind worked through the knots that tried to form, she moved back for the freezer. Against Grant and someone whose strength might have been able to match Callan's, Dominic wouldn't be enough, but the freezer wouldn't buy nearly enough time for another name.

'Damn, I need to be faster...!'

---

Something smashed to the ground nearby and he flinched at the sound, but from where Christmas was inside the freezer, he couldn't see past the space in front of him. Then he blinked and the girl was gone. A few more startled blinks and several seconds of an open mouth later, he peeked out, looking around the dilapidated, mildewed kitchen that she had teleported him to. It looked like the back end of a professional dining establishment that had seen much better days, with rows of rusting stovetops and counters lining up in parallel with each other while large cookware and utensils littered the prep tables and floors.

A muted female voice towards what looked like the restaurant's front caught his ears, but he couldn't make out the words behind the double doors that separated the kitchen from the restaurant's dining area. A sudden shout from that same direction startled him with the tone's ferocity and Christmas jumped to his feet, nearly falling out of the freezer as he grabbed a nearby countertop to steady himself. Another panicked glance around the room revealed the back exit. He had wanted to find out where the girl had teleported to, but with the sudden note of fury in the air, he was contemplating leaving that mess behind, even if his rescuer had seemed unwell.

Chipped tile fragments scraped against his sneakers as he edged slowly away from the source of that angry scream.

Something trembled in the pit of Siena's heart.

Bad.

If she was feeling something like that, then she wouldn't have time to blink in and out of the space. Not before it disappeared again. Cramming her hands into her pockets, Siena made another turn on her heel for the front door, willing Dominic to latch his desperate, broken mind on for a moment longer. Stopping them from reaching Christmas was a lost cause, but...perhaps.

Upper pocket, her muscles told her, ignoring the plastic and smooth edges of the numerous electronics that she'd tucked into the hand-stitched pouches lining her coat. Never trust only the digital age. She ran as quickly as her legs could carry her as she dug for the small, labeled paperback tucked between a tablet and what she could only assume was a Nook, fumbling as she ran. Wouldn't get far, would she?

The world flickered back to color for an instant, the hues starting to seep into the grey.

'Not yet, not yet, not yet!' Her hands touched one of the pink flags that barely peeked beyond the cover of the paperback, tearing it free from its place as the covers fell open to her desired page.

The sound of a breeze broke through the grey filters. Running out of time.

Her eyes darted down to mismatched font between the left and right pages, an irrational spike of irritation coming to mind. Her favorite "book" was going to be ruined. As she turned for the shelter of a building's shadow, the world came crashing back in full color and sound. If her eyes had been elsewhere, Siena was certain she would have been overwhelmed.

One last chance. That was all she had.

Something brushed his hands. Featherlight, like flesh. Then moments later, it was gone again. The sugary scent of jam faded to the background, leaving a barely-there trail in its wake.

“Grant, outside!”-He shouted over his shoulder, gesturing to the general direction of the sweet scent –“Now!!”

Without another word, he turned, launching himself into the restaurant’s deserted kitchen, eyes immediately drawn to his target. Christmas. He wasn’t running, so it made things much easier. Sander surged forward in a burst of speed, first freeing his hand from the constraint with a flick of his wrists, then once again slinging the boy over his shoulder, though Christmas’ weight felt heavier now. The healer let out a quick huff of air between a gasp and a shout as the force and speed of the motion knocked a bit of the wind from him.

The flame flickered again, the thirst thrummed loudly in the back of his mind as the smell of fresh coffee engulfed his senses. He bit his lips. Focus.

Using his own momentum, he lunged toward the back exit and began the sprint back to his team’s safe zone.

Christmas wasn't sure what he had been expecting when that door opened, but red eyes and birthday suit wasn't it. In the time that the tall, pale figure dashed at him, he barely processed that this was a naked person. By the time he had been slung unceremoniously over that figure's shoulder, two and two finally came together and his frazzled mind put faces to names and names to faces between uneven breaths.

Sander. Entirely naked save for his shoes.

And now the ground was moving rapidly below him. From his new position hefted over his roommate's strangely warm shoulder, he had first-row seats to bare legs and a bit more than he needed to see covering distance like lightning. Clearly more interested in preserving his roommate's dignity than the roommate in question, Christmas squeezed his eyes shut.

...Why is he naked? the thought finally condensed from the scatter of potential reactions.

Gone. That girl was gone once more. As fast as she had appeared, she had vanished at the same speed. Grant looked down at his wrists, feeling no struggle amongst himself, and he decided to retract his chains from the binds that he had made for himself and the now naked Sander, who now yelled at him.

A simple order and a simple gesture, and Sander was off, into the kitchen. Grant's bind comprised of Sander's shirt simply slid off, and he simply guessed that it would do the same with his teammate's bind. Well. Might as well head toward where Sander pointed.

Simple. Grant walked outside and in the general direction of where he assumed to be Siena's current location. Now that his hands were free, he put them to good use, stuffed nice and cozy into his own pockets, his chains at the ready.

Siena had overestimated herself, the strain of taking so many names in such a short period already taxing enough without the struggle of their potent abilities wearing down on her endurance.

The fine lettering of the book's print blurred in front of her eyes and though she tried anyway, pulling the name with as much speed as she could manage, the exhaustion was too much. She had only peeled the letters halfway from the well-thumbed page when the world tilted sideways and the rough texture of concrete pressed against her cheek.

Distant, but approaching footsteps were the last sounds she heard before passing out.

-