“Permission granted.” Silvarae seemed fine. A bit dazed, yes, but she was aware of her surroundings, and acting...well, like herself. Seeing how long it had taken for her to leave her earlier trances, it was simply astonishing to watch. And, from Clifton’s reaction upon his appearance, Madison wasn’t alone in his fascination.

“Of course,” he smiled. “I would hate to miss out on an opportunity to get to know our new recruits.” It was only after both Maeve and Silvarae had turned their backs that he mouthed “later”, tapping the spot on his hand where the Algiz rune was currently lying on someone else. It was something that he would have to put into Miss Kaizen’s files as soon as the opportunity rose, among other things.

Madison followed the others in, following the path to the training room with the surety that came from years of navigating the halls, when he suddenly paused mid-step. Miss Veil was on her way to training- nothing too brow-raising, but what was was the giant sword she carried on her back. Larger than the woman herself. Of course, given the fact that she was the rune of Uruz, it wasn’t too surprising that she could manage such a...sizable weapon, but it came as a bit of a shock to see her toting one about so casually. Shaking the thought off, Madison smiled back at the woman and entered the training room, then went to stand by the far side of the room. He would introduce himself, he mused, when enough people had entered the gymnasium. Or when someone asked him who he was. Whichever came first.

For now, however, he was content to wait and watch the Runes in action.

@ScoundrelQueen@Kuroakuma@Daemanis@LorelleQuips

---

Right, down two flights of steps, at the end of the hall.

Like the rest of her teammates, Dawn didn’t find herself heading directly to the training hall upon dismissal. Instead, she made a beeline for her room, taking note of the location of the hall along the way. She already had some gym clothes stashed away in her drawers, so it seemed more reasonable to get changed there, grab whatever else she felt she might need, then hurry back as soon as possible.

If she were to be honest with herself, a part of her was somewhat worried that it wouldn’t just be plain old “one size fits all” outfits that would be offered if she showed up without her own. Dawn had an odd sense of foreboding that there would be a little cranny with an outfit that fit her perfectly, as if the Blessed had taken her exact measurements without her knowledge. Perhaps it was an absurd notion, and perhaps the worst that would await her if she looked would just be some misfitting shorts and floppy grey tees, but the idea made her uncomfortable regardless.

Dawn swapped out her skirt and cardigan for a plain black shirt and jeans, but kept the purse as she jogged out and back down the stairwells. While a somewhat odd choice for “training gear”, the purse held her gun, and it didn’t seem unreasonable to bring her weapon along if Zero was toting swords to and fro. If needed, she could just put it over a chair or something, out of the way.

The training hall itself was reminiscent of a classical gymnasium in some aspects, a shooting range in others, and a performance stage in the giant, empty, raised space off to the side. There were flesh-colored dummies propped up against a far wall, along with racks of training swords, guns, knives, and whatever type of weaponry one might desire. There were weights, a small wrestling ring, punching bags…

It was a lot, and Dawn found herself feeling slightly overwhelmed.

The feeling only intensified upon catching sight of one of her teammates toting a sword large enough to make most pro wrestlers feel faint.

Seeing as most of the other Runes had filed in (along with a few other presumable members of the staff here and there), Dawn made her way over to Amity, loosening her hair and retying it back up into a neat ponytail. “That’s quite the sword you’ve got,” she commented. “It suits you, I think.” The craftsmanship was rather incredible- Dawn’s eyes swept along it from blade to hilt, taking in the work put to well use.

The size had been surprising. The wear and tear of it wasn’t.

Dawn glanced about, hand on her neck. While her new outfit had sleeves, they were a bit shorter than her blouse’s, allowing a portion of her rune to show as she moved. “Where’s Makorai?” If they were meant to train as a team, then it would likely be better for all of them to be in one place before they began.

And at the moment, there was no sign of the Ansuz rune.

@Kuroakuma

---

"Oh!" It was at that moment that another man almost ran into him. Morgan recognized him as a fellow Rune but didn't know his name. In fact, he didn't really know any of the other Rune's names. The man asked him if he was lost too, as Morgan watched him pour himself a cup of alcohol. Sake, to be completely exact. It seemed to Morgan that the reason this man was lost was that he was probably busy in the process of becoming drunk. By the redness of his cheeks and his nose, it was obvious that it wasn't his first rodeo.

"Yeah. We're supposed to head to the training room, correct? I don't know where it is. I've never been outside my room," Morgan stated as he watched the other pouring the liquid from the bottle to the cup. He shifted his weight from one side to the other, looking up at him. He looked at the man once more. Brown hair, probably an alcoholic, and a "what-I-find-I'm-wearing" type of guy to Morgan.

After being dismissed she would head straight to the training room as Clifton had recommended, she chose to withhold a response to Maeve as it truly didn’t require a response, and she doubted that the Isa rune wielder could do much to the two of them at once. It was very unlike herself to leave without a good reason and this curious thought ran through her mind as she and Maeve headed towards Isa, ‘so it’s to be isa, and sowlio. Fire and Ice.’ She thought to herself not entirely sure how it is that her own rune would fit into the offensive duo’s abilities. She was almost lost in thought when Isa, or Oren, as her name actually was spoke.
"How nice of you to two to deign to turn up finally. I thought I was being relatively modest in my goals by at least expecting the people I'm trying to instruct to be physically present in the same location and stay there, but apparently I was setting the bar too high. I'll be certain to lower my expectations in the future."
She would chose to not verbally respond to this statement though she would take a mental note of the disposition that Oren seemed to put out constantly. She would be a difficult person to get along with, however if she did her job than they should have little to no problems at all.

"In that light of that, are you both planning to stick around for an extended amount of time? Or should I carry on with this so I'm getting something done?"

This time Silvarae did speak up her voice neutral and impassive as if returning to herself though something about Oren made her mind think of her father, the demands and the total unacceptability of failure.
”We’re here to train are we not, and to get to learn each others’ strengths and weaknesses?” this was more of a redundant question to which she already knew the answer though it is the way that she chose to answer.
"Seeing as the session is supposed to be about Aett auras, and not one but both the other members of my Aett had unceremoniously run off, I've been preparing for my presentation on the world eaters.
Though if you're both ready to do something useful I'd be prepared to oblige."
Silvarae felt more and more that Oren was becoming like her father and so she would salute, a pre-programmed response that felt entirely natural with the woman whom was supposed to be part of a team, though seemed to be more of the leader type than anything else.
”Well are we going to stand around here talking or actually get to work?” this question seemed to come out of her mouth before she could even think about what it is she wanted to say, thus it would seem a little petulant. ‘Stupid!’ she would hear that voice in her head again though it seemed to be a little subdued at this point.

"Oh the training room? Yeah, I know where that is kid. Come on. In a benign show of the natural camaraderie Makorai was born with, he slung a friendly arm around the shorter males shoulder, and steered them both toward the training room. After what was really no time at all, given their close proximity "You really must never leave your room, I've been here for a bit and I haven't seen you, but hey, all that's gonna change real soon.

When they rounded the corner, he detached himself from Morgan, and slid inside. The sake in the cup vanished into his mouth, and the cup and sake mysteriously vanished as well.

"Figured you looked tougher than running out before our first battle." This comment was directed at Rae, accompanied by a small, but earnest smile.

"A change of pace for you eh?" He said to Maeve, an obvious reference to her time as a bouncer.

True to form, Makorai glided beyond the empty spaces at the front, and took a seat at the very back of the room.

"I've been the one waiting for you two Algiz, not the other way around." Oren responded drily, before hopping to her feet.
"Right. All of you gather up into your Aetts. Get a good look at the people on the team with you, because they are going to be a big factor in whether you live or die."

She made her way over to the raised area, where something large sat under a tarp.

"I'm going to be giving you a short exercise in critical thinking and teamwork. It will also hopefully encourage you to think about your Aett and what weapons you have at your disposal."

She pulled the cover aside to reveal a training dummy that was a fair bit bigger than the rest. Oren, at 5'7, was easily dwarfed by the thing by a couple of feet. Stripes of red fabric criss-crossed its body at irregular intervals and out of the top of its head were two large horns that twisted out like those of an ibex.
"This represents a jotun. Aside from the common varg, this is the world eater type you're most likely to encounter, and the biggest cause of breach-related fatalities. Statistically speaking, if anything is going to kill you, it would be a jotun.

As you would generally meet them, a jotun looks like this. Males range around seven to eight foot tall and have large, arching horns that may form different shapes. Females are slightly smaller, around six and a half foot to seven, and their horns tend to be more compact and tightly coiled. This means it's relatively easy for a female jotun to slip through gate checks where a male would be spotted. That said walls aren't necessarily a barrier. For their size they are fast, agile, and excellent climbers. Individuals have been seen spotted scaling walls. They are obligate carnivores, and store iron deposits in their bones, creating a naturally extremely durable endoskeleton. Their physical strength, speed, and resilience far outstrips that of an ordinary human, and even the weakest specimens have sufficient strength to tear a person in half like wet tissue paper.

So. How do you fight it?" Oren turned and extended a hand to point towards one of the Aetts.

"Tyr's Aett. You are facing a jotun as your team. How do you fight it?"

@GoodLuckTuck@xXSINXx

Amity was leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she closed her eyes for a few moments. Reaching up to rub her face, she opened her eyes again, watching as the girl from earlier- Dawn- moved over, redoing her hair. Amity cast a glance over to her sword, leaned neatly against the wall beside her, and smirked.
“That’s quite the sword you’ve got,” she commented on the gargantuan blade that Amity wielded. “It suits you, I think.”
Amity's smirk grew into a wide smile as she nodded in response. "A good friend of mine made it for me. Used to be a tiny little dagger, actually, but then she reforged it into, uh, that huge hunk of metal. It used to be a lot prettier, I promise." She gave Dawn a sheepish grin.
“Where’s Makorai?”
Amity shrugged. "No clue, actually. He might've gotten lost. Or drunk. Or both." Amity was fairly certain he'd been drinking alcohol in the room beforehand, actually.
If she was honest, she had half a mind to ask him to share.
Looking over to the incredibly lovely and friendly interaction between Oren, Maeve and Sil, Amity raised an eyebrow before chuckling to herself softly. "Let's get along better than them, yeah?" She idly noticed Makorai and Morgan moving into the room, and she quickly touched Dawn's shoulder and motioned over to the man before beckoning for him to come over to them. Might as well stick together, right?

As Oren yanked the tarp free, Amity's attention shot over to the training dummy, her head whipping around at the sound and her eyes narrowing. For a moment, her heart exploded, but immediately after she calmed herself down. Her hands twitched. "Statistically speaking, if anything is going to kill you, it would be a jotun."
Amity felt herself seething internally.
Jotun this, Jotun that. Every day was another worthless sack of shit Jotun coming in to eat people's faces.
Her hands twitched some more.
She didn't really need Oren's briefing on Jotun considering she'd spent the last months of her life relentlessly hunting them down and ripping them in half like wet tissue paper.
Leaning back against the wall and taking deep breaths to calm herself, Amity closed her eyes and counted to ten.
One.
Two.
Three.
Kill Jotun-
No, Four.
Five.
Six.
KILL-
SEVEN.
EIGHT.
NINE.
TEN.

Exhaling hard and opening her eyes, she felt her heart slowing as her tense body relaxed. Looking back up, she saw as Oren called out Tyr's Aett- the one that included the short Morgan kid and the pale, possibly some sort of vampire guy who liked sweets. He also crouched in his chair instead of sitting normally, which was.. interesting, to say the least.
Morgan she hadn't really noticed. She hadn't seen him around much, and he didn't particularly strike her interest. He seemed like a fairly normal guy, actually. Although who was she to judge? Maybe a little scrawny, though..
Which was terrible for him, since apparently he was going to be fighting Jotun possibly on a daily basis from now on.

Amity briefly wondered why a bunch of random people had been chosen.
Before her Rune showed up, she was just a happy bride about to be married to the love of her life.
The only person who seemed openly knowledgeable about actual combat was Sil, and that was only because of the weapons strapped to every inch of her person. Amity had learned from experience, but a lot of the people here looked, well.. way over their heads.
Even if they'd been in a fight or two before, they'd probably never fought a Jotun. Especially not at full strength.

Shrugging to herself, Amity took one last look around the room before closing her eyes again. She could be completely wrong. Every single person here could be the secret product of some sort of supersoldier experiment for all she knew.
She figured creating relations with her Aett was a bigger priority than sussing out everyone else, at least for now.
Opening her eyes again, she turned to Dawn with a small smile on her face.
"So, how'd they end up dragging you into all of this, if I may ask?"

In the back of her mind, she'd also answered Oren's question.
"Cleave it in half like the murderous trash it is. Simple as that."
Of course, most people couldn't do that.
But Amity could.
And she did.
And it worked great.

"Give em what they want usually." Makorai gave his own answer, rather than wait for the rhetorical point to continue making itself. Spying his other two team mates, he smiles, and gave them a wink. The young man got up from his sitting position, and dragging his chair to where they were standing. "Kinda like the lovely Amity said. If anything stops your clock, it would be one of those. I usually just give em some food if they're hungry. Bit of drink.

Makorai sat down again, but not before offering both Amity, and Dawn, who seemed a bit subdued to drink during training, but assumptions makes asses right? So he offered her some as well.

"No point in fighting over food if there's some to spare."

Makorai produced a sniper barrel, stock, and receiver, plus the trappings from his bag. He worked while he spoke, but kept his eyes on the Jotun body. His sniper was a strange one. The bayonet was longer than normal, and lightly curved toward the tip. there were two fist sized handles on the lower part of the receiver, and various places on the frame were lined with reinforced material.

"I mean fighting them? I'd take three pack of Vargs, close range with just my tactical mauser over another Jotun.

“A dagger?” Dawn gave the sword another once over, the sheer size of the thing, then turned back to its wielder. “Your friend is very talented. And I, ah, I doubt that you would be able to keep a weapon looking its best for long. If you’re using it, that is.” A dented, battered weapon was preferable to one neat and polished. It spoke of experience, and experience seemed like the best thing you could possibly have in such a situation. She frowned slightly at Amity’s suggestion as to what Makorai was up to- hopefully, the man wouldn’t be drinking as much once duty called- then glanced over at the Heimdall team, in which one of its members was currently chewing out the rest by the looks of it.

“I’d like that,” Dawn said. Amity drew her attention to the doorway, and, subsequently, the last of their group to show up. Dawn gave Makorai a little wave before settling in to listen to Isa’s presentation, which was focused on the World Eaters- the Jotun, to be exact. She had never seen one from more than a far distance, but she knew the kind quite well. They turned entire buildings into rubble with the same ease as a child playing with a tower of legos. Strong. Swift. Brutal. Unlike herself, however, Dawn soon noticed that some of her fellow Runes appeared to be well-acquainted with the giants. She glanced over at Amity, who seemed to have gone stiff as a board at the mere mention of a Jotun. She recovered soon enough- enough to ask an amiable enough question- but it didn’t go without notice.

“Well,” Dawn said, keeping her voice low so as to not interrupt the presentation, “I was a PI before all this. Rune appeared one day, and, ah, then the Blessed showed up at my apartment a few weeks after that. Not much else to say, I suppose. What about you?”

Not much else aside from the fact that they had not-so subtly “persuaded” her employers to let her go. That had left her with a rather bad taste in her mouth, but there wasn’t much she could do now that all had been said and done. Brushing the thought off, Dawn looked back over at Amity, lips pursed somewhat. “Are you alright?”

Of course, Amity didn’t seem wholly alright, but it was better than saying nothing.

Makorai joined them after not too long, tossing in his own two cents with the ease of someone who seemed entirely unimpressed by the whole routine. Another “veteran” of sorts, if Dawn had to guess. She gave a small smile, waving off Makorai’s offer of drink with one hand. “Too early for me, but thank you.” Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, resting her head against the rugged wall of the gymnasium.

“And while I, ah, can’t give any professional opinion, I’m not sure if you could ask a Jotun any questions if it were to come charging at you first.”

@Kuroakuma@Magister

Maeve considered saying, "Now, Ladies, you're both very pretty."

She really did.

But her mother always said, "if yeh can't say somethin' nice, keep yer damn mouth shut, Maevie." And then there was the whole possibility of having both women she worked with hating her (and not in the fun "I like to punch you because you punch back" way) because, evidently, she was sandwiched between two people who could not take a joke (again, sandwiched in the absolutely no-fun way). Which was a shame, really, as neither of them would probably laugh if she gave them a tube of lube to pull the sticks out of their-

Isa was talking about stakes and dying. Like Maeve's soul. Slowly, slowly dying.

Moment gone.

Maeve, for what it was worth, had never hit a jotun. She'd faught some trolls, a varg shifter or two, but never a jotun. They weren't welcome customers, as far as the memos went. Fortunately, the strip had never seemed to be the priority of many jotun raids. Sex, liquor, and stale pretzels apparently didn't do it for everyone.

She smiled in Isa's direction, and nodded like she gave a shit. "Not that you asked me, but I'd probably set it on fire," she offered, sitting in the front row just so that she could place her foot on the platform when she tipped herself back. "Since, you know, I set stuff on fire. Assholes," she ticked off on one finger, and then proceeded, "in-laws, thugs, big spiders... And you could ice their asses! And Zero'll shield us while we cunt-punt the bastards into the sun. Honestly, we're fucking super heroes. What could happen, for Christ's sake?"

One Kana Cerulean sat in the chair beside Mitch, having been waiting in silence for a while now. Idly tapping her fingers on the table, the girl licked her lips and stood back up, making her way over to the fridge and grabbing a few more cans. Casting a glance over at the blind woman sitting there, Kana shrugged her shoulders and took a few more steps.
Out the door.
With about seven cans in her grip.
And one in her mouth because she could totally just eat the metal.
Humming to herself as she flicked her tongue out and pulled the door shut behind her, Kana sucked her tongue back into her mouth loudly and wandered down the halls.
Not much else to do except wait for someone interesting to find her.
Or to find them.
Or wait for the anticipated gunshot to rip through her body and coat the nearest surfaces in her blood.

Regardless, Kana skipped down the hallways, ignoring the fizzing cans of drink in her arms as she opened one and it exploded everywhere. She clamped her mouth around the top of the can and felt her eyes water a little as the fizzy soda choked her.
She forced her throat open as far as possible and wrapped her tongue around the entire can, dragging it down into her stomach like a trapdoor spider dragging its food into its, well, trapdoor.

Yum.

---

"A dagger. Crazy, right? You'd never guess."
Amity's eyebrow shot up as Dawn explained herself- a Private Investigator, huh? Well, Amity figured the woman was pretty keen of eye and must've also had quite a good intuition.
Or maybe not.
Amity didn't know.
More brains than brawn, then. Especially considering the woman's.. height.
Or lack of it.
Suited Amity fine, considering brawn was more or less the name of her Rune. She could leave the thinking to Dawn while he chopped up everything in her path like fresh mince.
"What about you?"
Something dangerous flashed in Amity's crimson eyes as she quickly looked over at the fake Jotun, the small smile that had made its way across her face vanishing in an instant.
"I'd prefer not to talk about that, actually." Amity kept her eyes trained on the dummy, once again feeling rage building up inside of her.
"You alright?"
Snapping her out of her glowering, Amity turned to Dawn and nodded, giving a small smile. "Bad experience with Jotuns, is all."
Amity leaned against the wall of the room as she did before, giving Makorai a curt nod as he moved over. As he offered, she shook her head and raised a hand to decline. Maybe later. If she drank while she was this tired, she might just pass out right here and now.
Gods know she wanted to.
Although, heck, she'd be drinking later regardless.
She hadn't been too focused on his words, honestly, her little daze taking a little while to wear off. What she did focus on, however, was the rifle he pulled out. It'd been customised for sure, and Amity found an appreciative smile crossing her features as she looked it over.
Seemed like he'd designed it for both long-range and close-range combat, using the bayonet to skewer or slice anything that got too close and having the multiple grips for added stability even on the move.
It was beautiful, in a less elegant and more practical way.
No fancy gems or patternwork, after all.
She wasn't exactly in the best place to criticise weapons for their beauty, however. She was carrying around a massive, bloody hunk of metal.
And nobody had really reacted to it except Dawn, which Amity found weird. Surely someone lugging around a weapon the size of a van merited some sort of response, but..
Well, apparently people were too busy going at each other to really observe anything else in the room.

"Two long range and one close range, then, I guess? Maybe one long range, one mid range and one close range?" Amity turned to Dawn, shrugging. "Either way, it seems like our Aett is pretty solid." Amity looked over to Makorai, now focusing on the two people who actually mattered to her and tuning out of the people going at each other or being completely silent- the duo before her would be the ones with her back in the field, so getting good group morale and synchronisation was key.
"I'll take a guess and wager you're pretty good with that lovely rifle of yours, meaning I'll be relying on you to keep things off my back out in the field, Makorai." She bowed a little formally as she turned to the man, reaching over to tap her monster sword. "And you can count on me to facetank most things and keep you two out of danger. Don't worry, if you need me I can quite literally jump over and get things off your back, too."
Turning to Dawn, she smiled. "Of course, I'll be relying on you too, Dawn, but I can't really put a finger on your position in the team. You're not carrying around a weapon, after all, so.. I don't imagine you'll be up front with me, though. Especially since friendly fire is on and, uh.." Amity looked over at her sword again and gave Dawn a sheepish grin.

For a moment the Isa rune's greyish gaze turned onto Makorai. It was hard to really read her expressions, though it was probably a safe enough bet to say that her look was one of disapproval.

"Thank you for the input Ansuz. If I ever need advise on how not to fight a jotun I will be sure to ask you about it first. Unfortunately that was not the actual question that I was asking, and you aren't part of the team I was asking."

She seemed to regard Maeve with a similarly unreadable expression.
"I could stay here and give you a comprehensive list of everything that possibly could go wrong, but I suspect that would be futile. I suspect the only way you are going to understand the magnitude of this is going to be in practise. Which is going to be all the worse for you. Don't say I did not at least attempt to give some kind of guidance from the outset."

---

Gate 4. The city watch stood, rifles resting at ease in their hands, as they oversaw the foot travellers making their way through the steel-clad tunnel that made up the pedestrian gate. Mostly poorer workers, repairmen, people who were willing to undertake the treacherous job of maintaining the out structure. Some occasional bounty hunters, large firearms slung over their shoulders.

This, the gate guard stationed at the checkpoint was all quite accustomed to seeing. It was all normal.

The figure who had just stepped out from amid the traffic, into the sunlit street of the inner city, was not though. Something about them was...off. They'd been walking at pace with a group of workers, but now within the walls, they stopped and broke off...probably never having had anything to do with the people in the first place. Whilst they stood with their back to him, certain features already made him uneasy.

They were tall.

A little too tall. Wrapped in a hooded jacket so threadbare and tatty it could not have provided much in the way of warmth.

So why would they wear it.

Unless it was to disguise something.

"Teeth."

Voices from behind him caused the soldier to glance back for a moment. The other guards were gathered around a man, backing him into a corner. He was apparently objecting quite strongly.
"This is bullshit! I'm not a goddamn dog, you're insane!"

"Show. Us. Your. Teeth." the captain commander, reaching forward and seizing the man's jaw to pry it open, the others tensed in anticipation of pointed, feral canine teeth. They were all completely occupied.

By the time the man looked back, the figure had covered a lot of ground, briskly walking away from the gate in the 'slightly-too-fast' walk that indicated someone only barely managing to conceal themselves. Anxiety building in the pit of his stomach. The man jogged after in pursuit.

He fell into step with the individual. They did not stop walking. From the side, he could tell it was female. Hood was pulled up, and scarf was drawn up over the face.
His voice shook a little as he tried to sound authoritative.
"Ma'am, would you please lower your hood."

No answer, she seemed to increase her pace. She was significantly taller, and he struggled to keep up with her strides.
"Ma'am. I won't ask you again."

No answer.

His mouth was dry, though his palms were slick with sweat.

Then the grab. He near enough had to jump for it. The hooded traveller attempted to duck out of his way but her height worked against her and his fingers grabbed the edge of the bare fabric and wrenched it back.

Two black, curving horns, like those of a ram, rose out of a mane of ginger hair. Small specs of dust and lint clung to their surface. Beneath that two eyes, irises as red as arterial blood locked onto his. Within them the soldier saw fury.

He lifted his rifle and screamed back to the checkpoint.
"JOTU-" he wasn't even able to shout out the word before the jotun was upon him. A gloved hand seized his throat, and in one fluid moment lifted him and slammed him into the floor with a crunch and a spray of blood, before bringing a foot down onto his head.

People began screaming in panic, scattering like ants from the from the creature that stood over the dead man, clothes and boots now dripping red. For a moment the soldiers at the the gate stood, frozen in horror, before they rushed forward with their weapons.

By the time they did however the jotun had taken off at a run, utterly inhuman in its speed. As bullets peppered the ground it reached a garden wall and sprang, scaling it with the ease of a hunting cat and disappearing over the top. By the time they got there it could have gone anywhere.

There was a wild jotun loose in the city. One that was completely willing to kill.

They had a breach on their hands.

No sooner had Oren finished her dry words of lecture, Clifton wrenched open the door (the second hardest anyone had seen a door burst open today, after Amity of course; hard to follow that) and let himself into the room.

An actual out of place hair brushed his forehead, a sure sign that he had scurried from his office to hallway to gymnasium in a tremendous hurry. More worrisome, however, he didn't even bother to smooth it back. Something was tremendously wrong.

But you wouldn't know it from the quick but businesslike manner in which he began to deliver his message:

"Hello again, rune bearers. I hope your training has been going well. I'm afraid I have a rather urgent request. The wall on the north side of the city has been breached, and we have a...a somewhat dire Jotun situation. I have report of one fatality so far."

He cleared his throat, his mouth twisting at the corner as if he was trying to prepare himself to lick the inside of a dumpster. Clearly, he didn't like the orders he was about to give.

But he had orders too.

He spoke very quickly, both to convey a lot of information in a short time, and to get it over with.

"We have people to deal with these situations, but our usual strike teams are out of the city on other business. Those of us remaining are only the minimal level of security. Normally I wouldn't--The organization wouldn't put anyone in the field without adequate combat training, but many of you have some background, and you know what they say about desperate times. If you would please bring any weapons you wish and follow me."

A large, slick, black SUV-like vehicle awaited them outside, gutted of its middle and back seats and lined with inward-facing bench seats to make room for more passengers, giving the impression of a SWAT van with a much more inconspicuous exterior. Clifton popped open the back and gestured the rune bearers inside before climbing into the passenger's seat. Madison was driving.

Clifton gave Maddie a sidelong glance, silently conveying his thoughts on this matter.

He was in no hurry to find out whether the rune bearers being "chosen" meant they could or could not die until they fulfilled their ultimate mission. This was absolutely the worst idea he could think of.

There were a few things that warranted Maeve looking around for a film crew, just to make sure they were not shooting them all for really, really bad reality TV.

Clifton's statement was definitely one of them.

"What? That's not-"

She stood up, glanced between Oren and Clifton with her palms upturned as if waiting for the punchline to fall from the ceiling. "That's not even- That's not even funny! It's not-"

Everyone was moving as if something were actually happening. An alarm light on the wall began to blink. Maeve brushed her hair back from her face before yanking it into a ponytail, a half-snarl gracing her features. There was a switchblade in her pocket, but it did not feel like any insurance as the room seemed to stiffen.

Maeve cracked her neck. "Well. Fuck me sideways." She absently tapped Silvarae's side with the back of her hand, and took up a soft trot to meet up with Oren's stride. "So, this is for real?" she asked, voice soft as she took another quick survey of the group. "What the hell are we supposed to do about that? Half of these people look like they've never even fought in a schoolyard." She gripped the handle of the truck and stood outside, one foot on the bumper as she watched a few others file in.

She took a seat close to the window, watching with a bit more trepidation than she let show.

-----

Meanwhile, Mitch was typing.

She had stood as if to follow Kana out, but instead swung into her monitor-lined office.

The snake that eats the world had taken off down the hallway with pop cans, but it was far from Mitch's most immediate concern. They did not have people to spare chasing the serpent around, and honestly, Mitch had no idea what to do about it in the moment. Don't poke the sleeping bear, or, possibly, the pop-drinking snake.

One side of her headset was babbling, and the other was hooked into the Blessed's channel. There were notices popping up on the nearest screen, and her glance swung between one magnified window and the other. Her hands worked quickly, navigating countless windows and several messengers at once.

"She's on 22nd and Vine," Mitch said into the com, broadcasting it to the whole of the car. "Female, six-foot and a half, heading Southeast. Probably to the cross with 34th by the time you roll in. You may be able to cut her off, but the main objective is to drive her back away from the highest population centers."

A ping sounded in her ear, and she looked away from her lines of script to take in the message.

A flick of her fingers, and she switched com channels to speak only to the Blessed. "One confirmed death of ours. A second possible- I'm coming up on a few closing segments, here. Don't tell them."

Makorai gave a respectful nod at their answers. Too early. Sounds like he was the sole career alcoholic on his team. Which suited him fine, someone had to keep a clear head in their Aett, and spirits knew it wasn't going to be him, sake and whiskey deep before ten pm. Dawn being a P.I suited her, from what Makorai could tell. She seemed reserved. Really looked at people, not like how others do the once over, but did that little bit of digging that investigators usually did. All through those beautiful pale eyes.

He rested his hand between Amity's shoulder blades, and gave her a reassuring rub. He wasn't as percpetive as his counterpart, but he could relate to whatever it was she was feeling. He assumed it was loss. Or perhaps powerlessness. Either way, despite his flirtatious nature, it was a genuine gesture. Pain ran deep. It always did.

"All good Amy." He winked, then quickly changed the subject back to his weapon. "Oh yeah, close, long, however you want it, I got it. He paused, then continued, a bit more seriously this time. I got your backs. If I can see it in my scope, I'll keep it off you all, and if it's about to eat me, well. He playfully mimicked a door being thrown in. "Between Dawn's Brain, Your Brawn, collective Beauty and my Booze..." He paused again, and nodded.

Hey, not a bad team name. Brains, Brawn, Beauty and Booze." Boobs, and butt. but he wasn't going to say that out loud. Beauty was enough.

Oren's reply elicited a smile, and a lighthearted shrug. Yeah, can't answer a question I wasn't asked gorgeous,
just thought I'd offer my two cents anyway."

He was just shy of another response, when Mr.Clean Cut & Healthy Eating popped in. There was a bit of a rush in his demeanor this time, but, the coif remained undisturbed. Amazing.

What he said snapped Makorai out of his drunken, sarcastic haze, and into the temporary clarity some alcoholics felt when confronted with something serious.

The North side. He had a lot of friends that clocked in on the North side, the kind of of working class folk that let him drink at the club because of one time or the other he lent a hand, or shot a warg

These green in the face recruits were expected to take on the Jotun? His light brown eyes quickly moved across the room, checking their reactions one by one. His entire joke had been a point he was making. Fighting one should be the last resort. These kids weren't ready. Not for the carnage at least. By the time they got down there, gristle would be the trendy new decoration on the block.

"I don't care what anyone here says, including you." He turned to Clifton. "I know those people, you all do what you want, listen to whatever, I'm gone." He wasn't a hero, Makorai, or at least, he didn't look at himself as one. He was just good at shooting, and he'd lost enough people five years ago, and frankly, he was more scared of having to attend a funeral that wasn't his.

"I'm leaving. I gotta make sure those folk get through. Meet me there yeah? I'll need you guys." He wasn't about to get anyone else killed for his stupidity, but he /knew/ he could get there faster by bike. He knew.

With a wave, and complete disregard for what anyone had to say, he walked out the door.

---

Morgan hadn't known how to respond. He wasn't ready for this. He hadn't been ready for any of this. Thankfully the man who had helped him find the training room spoke, and the attention was taken off of him. And then, everything switched. No sooner that Oren had finished speaking that the man who had taken him away, Clifton, had entered. He reported of a Jotun that had entered the city. And then he had ordered them to follow him and the fight the thing. So soon? All Morgan could do was heal others and do martial arts. That was exactly going to be the most helpful in a fight. The only weapons he had ever learned to fight with in martial arts weren't pointy or sharp at all. There was the bo staff, nunchucks, and- well, that wasn't true actually. Morgan could use a double blade but he had only done so a few times. It was kind of like a bo staff. That was what he had started learning before his Rune had appeared and everyone turned upside-down.

He looked around the training room, and to his surprise, found one. He doubted he'd ever get any hits on the Jotun, but he might as well be armed while he's at it. He found that the one he had grabbed could be split in half and put into two sheaths for traveling and protective purposes. He gave a nod before, reluctantly, walking out and to the SUV that was waiting for them. He stepped inside and sat across from Maeve.
Morgan had stayed silent this entire time.

“I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t told me.” One could only begin to imagine just how much steel had gone into the crafting of the weapon, even without knowing that the sword had been a dagger in its past life. Dawn’s attention lingered on it a moment longer, but was swiftly redirected upon Amity’s response to her question.

Pain. You didn’t need any more details than that to know that whatever had happened had carved deep. Dawn’s eyes softened, and she followed Amity’s gaze over to the dummy for a moment. “I, ah. I understand. I’m sorry to hear that.” It was an unfortunate truth in a world of giants and wargs that losses happened. Often. Of course, that hardly lightened the blow.

Thankfully, the topic didn’t linger, trundling instead along on to the subject of weapons. Dawn let out a quick burst of air from her nose, the corner of her lip perking upwards in spite of herself, before giving Makorai a quick nod. “Much appreciated. I’m sure both of us will do our best to make sure you don’t get eaten by an Eater anytime soon.” She paused, then added, “And that’s a, ah, a good suggestion, but I think it might be a bit too much of a mouthful.”

She slung her purse further down her arm, unzipped it, and drew a gleaming pistol from its gullet. “It’s not much,” Dawn admitted, “but I like to think I’m a good shot with it, at least.” Back into the folds the gun went, back up went the purse. “And, ah, there’s my Rune of course, but it’s not a directly offensive one.”

Compared to her teammates, Dawn felt...somewhat unprepared, actually. Amity and Makorai both seemed to be well-experienced in fighting off their fair share of World Eaters. She had dealt with a few of the smaller ones in her line from work from time to time, and, once, outside of it, but nothing on the scale that her team had. It was good that they were going to be training to deal with some of the stronger ones before actually being sent out onto the field...

...Or not, it seemed.

It was terrible, terrible luck, but there was no choice of not going. She gave Makorai a brisk nod before following the others to the truck. She took whatever seat was available, jaw set, hand running alongside the cool metal within her purse.

It was a trial by fire. Hundreds, if not thousands, of lives were at stake.

---

Madison had rushed to the truck almost as soon as the announcement had hit his ears, leaving a scattering of papers and folders and half-filled ink cartridges in his wake. The odds of a breach while all their teams were out, and the only ones left were the mostly-rookie runes, had been poor at best. But it was happening, and the overhead alarm was screaming, and he met Clifton’s long glance with a worried one of his own. They weren’t ready. Some of them were, but certainly not all of them.

Mitch’s voice in his ear gave little in the ways of reassurance.

“I-” Madison made a strained sound in the back of his throat. “Are you sure? We can’t-” He looked over his shoulder at the passengers for a moment, then back to the road, brow furrowed deeply. They had to go. They had to go, to help those affected by the breach before the Jotun did enough damage to put even more lives at risk, but some of the newcomers had little to no prior combat experience. They had their powers, yes, but they hadn’t yet been taught how to work as a team, let alone fight as one.

He frowned to himself, but nonetheless waited for all the Runes to board and close the door before pulling out of the driveway and pushing the truck further towards its destination.

“Good luck, everyone.” Madison said. “And please, stay safe out there.”

Amity was glad that her Aett seemed to be getting along well. They'd already figured out their configurations and-
"Brains, Brawn, Beauty and Booze, huh? Not half bad, Mako."
Makorai and Dawn seemed like genuinely good people between Dawn's sympathetic gaze and Mako's shoulder rub. Lucky her, getting such nice people.
Wouldn't it just be such a shame if they died off?
"Shut the hell up."
Quieting her internal dialogue, Amity smiled at the two near her. "I think Dawn has the right idea. I don't think any of us have the inclination to get our heads bitten off." Amity grinned.

It would've gone very well if Clifton hadn't slid into the room and casually announced a World Eater's appearance.
It would've gone well if Clifton hadn't slid into the room and not-so-casually announced a Jotun's appearance.
It would've gone well if Amity hadn't tuned in at the specific moment he said the word 'Jotun'.
It would've gone well if Amity wasn't a complete and utter psychopath when it came to Jotun.

It wasn't going to go well.

The world stopped, Amity's breath catching in her throat. Her pupils dilated immediately, the rune on her stomach glowing brightly as she reached over and gripped her sword for dear life. Gritting and grinding her teeth, the redhead doubled over slightly.
No, no, not here. Not here. Hold on. It's just a Jotun.
JUST A FUCKING JOTUN?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! JUST A FUCKING J O T U N?!
Amity's breathing quickened as she grunted to herself, trying her hardest to keep her temper in check.
"A Jotun up north, going around and killing lots and lots of innocent people. Why're you still here?"
Why was she still in the training hall?

Wrenching her slab of metal from against the wall, Amity shot over to the nearest weapon rack and grabbed a sword. By this time, the others had already likely filed out into the van, Amity's mind having gone completely and utterly blank for at least an entire minute while she processed the information.
By information I mean "THERE'S A JOTUN GO BUTCHER IT".
Looking the rack of weapons over, it didn't take her long to stuff that sword between her teeth and grab a third- of course, these were your normal longswords compared to her actual weapon. Biting down into the hilt of the sword so hard that it hurt a little, Amity rocketed from the training room like a raging bullet. She slammed into the wall in the hall just outside and pushed off of it. Rage filled her body, her mind, overtaking her as she exploded out the front door of the mansion.
Blood-red eyes focusing on the van for a moment, the information reached her ears and she gave a rough grunt before stepping back and jogging backwards a little bit. She ground her teeth against the hilt in her mouth.
"MAKO GO! HIGH GROUND, COVER ME!" She didn't have time to wait, or time to waste words. Besides, soon enough her ability to speak wouldn't even exist anymore. On top of that, there was a sword in her mouth. Unable to stop herself from letting out a blood-curdling scream as she bared her teeth in savage rage, Amity Veil took three running steps forward and then vanished, the ground where she'd vanished cracked and broken.
Anyone following her trajectory would see the woman flying through the air and sailing towards the north. Not precisely where the Jotun was, but close enough for Amity.

She saw red. Everything around her was tinted with blood. Her beautiful face was twisted into an expression not unlike that of a wolf's own snarl as she sailed through the air, slamming into the road hard enough to crack the asphalt below her and launching herself again and again. The sky was black, worthless in her perception of reality. Her dilated pupils flicked around madly, trying to locate the prey as Amity landed once again. She was close now.
Screaming.
Fear.
A tiny smile slid its way across her face as she leaped again, this time up at a building. She hammered into the side of it, cracking the windows around her and falling through them.
"FUCKING HELL BUY TOUGHER WINDOWS YOU STUPID PEOPLE DO YOU WANT TO DIE?!"
Roaring as she rolled and then flipped off of the floor, she rushed to the edge of the window and kicked off it, exploding forward like a bullet and getting closer to the street she'd heard from inside the van.
22nd and Vine.. Where the hell was that even at?!
Slamming into the ground and scaring the absolute crap out of the people nearby, Amity looked up at the street sign.
Well, she was close, at least.
Hopefully Mako wasn't too far behind. She could handle a Jotun by herself easily, but.. her skin was prickling.
Regardless, even if death was the result, it was her job to get to this place as soon as possible and stop people being needlessly hurt. Cracking her neck and growling deep in the back of her throat, Amity's maddened eyes locked on the sign.
20.
"20 fucking what?!"
Oh. 20th Street.
She'd torn half of the sign off when she'd landed. Looking down, it was stuck to her stomach. Grunting in.. something, Amity turned her head to look down the street.
She shot down one street with bloodlust in her eyes, intent on nothing more than a bloody massacre.
In the back of her mind, she really hoped she was going the right way.

The scent had already hit her nose like a truck, however.
A Jotun was nearby.
Amity Veil seethed, gripping her chunk of metal tightly as she bit down on her mouth sword.
It was time to cut a bitch.

Heavy feet thudded onto cut grass as the jotun sprang down from a backstreet wall into a small, residential garden. The area was not an affluent one, but it didn't need to be. It was far from the gate.

The creature jogged across the lawn, up the path and to the small back door and shoved a hand straight through the glass to grasp the inside handle to open it up. From there it stumbled into the house's kitchen.

By that point, the jotun had abandoned the hood and scarf completely, leaving her ashen-grey face on show. Set within it, two crimson eyes wandered about the room, searching for a target. After a few moments, she fell upon the battered refrigerator, swinging the door out, tearing the top clean off of a carton of milk and sniffing the contents before emptying it into her mouth. This sufficiently engaged the world-eater enough that it was the click of a firearm that first alerted it.

She turned to fix the deep red gaze on the sound behind her. A small, pallid woman, no doubt one of the occupants, grasping a shotgun in shaking hands. She was clearly terrified. Somewhere, far back within the house, it was possible to catch some more movement. Two small, worried faces peering round a doorframe. Children.

The jotun eyed her and curled her lip, showing off sharpened canine teeth. The hand that was still gripping the fridge slowly closed, crushing the painted metal like a vice.
"Shoot." the monster snarled.

Choppers and the like were for tough and guys who liked to wear leather jackets and hang out with other tough guys enjoying the company of their other tough guy male companions. Makorai's bike was a different machine from the fashion over function variety you'd see on the street. It was a dual-sport, an off-road bike with tires to handle the hot pavement, and the grassy hills the sniper favoured when he was out of the city. Complete with enough trappings to make it street legal.

Not that it was street legal of course, he hadn't paid for it to be licensed in quite some years.

Makorai had torn out of the gate, his body was the balance, the ballast, thrown to the opposite side of the bike, white knuckling the handlebars as he threw the thing to the ground, forcing the bike left while hitting speeds that threatened critical injuries if he lost control.

He brought the machine back up, and accelerated, raking his along its frame as he bobbed and weaved through the vehicles heading toward the disaster. Luckily, but predictably, most of the traffic was heading away from the Jotun. Not towards it.

His hand felt into his jacket, and he withdrew his cell phone, he dialed without looking.

The conversation was brief. A friend of his said she, and the other masons were okay. Jotun had left, gone down Highlands Boulevard from what she had heard.

Rather than indicate he was turning left, he just increased spead and swung over into the other lane. That's when he saw her. Like an earth-borne comet he saw a streak of familiar color rush over his head, and into the general vicinity that he was traveling in.

Spirits, if she could do that..

Makorai's bike slowed to a cruising speed as he rounded off onto one of the poorer districts of the city. Minus the wanton destruction he expected, it was near impossible to gauge where the Jotun was exactly. Eye witness had placed the Jotun here but...

"HEY" He yelled.He was at below cruising speed now, yelling amidst the sirens.

"I don't know what the hell you want!, But I'll give it to you if you come out! Let's fucking talk! Have a drink! I know you Jotun can talk!"

His vocal chords strained as he raised his pitch above the background noise.

He steadied the bike with one hand, and retrieved his bottle from the folds of his jacket. He uncorked it, and took a generous gulp. "OR ARE CIVILIANS EASIER PREY FOR A COWARDLY GIANT?!"

He parked for a moment, and discharged his weapon into the air, it wasn't a rifle round, so there was neither stench nor sound of gunpowder. It was a flare round, sailing high into the sky, and exploding into a cascade of red.

Clifton went tight-jawed at Madison's almost-comment. He merely nodded.

He set a white-knuckled hand on the side of Madison's chair so he could twist himself to face the rune-bearers. They had so little time that talking was almost meaningless at this point, but he had to throw a

"Remember to stay close to your groups. If you can. You're stronger together," he said, his voice still deceptively calm. The fact that Amity and Makorai had decided to venture off on their own grated at him. But in his hurry and theirs, there had been no time to stop them. He could only hope they were safe, and that their reckless abandon didn't get Dawn hurt. He cast an apologetic nod at the girl. He would watch her back if nobody else did.

"And this goes for all of you, but especially if you lack combat experience: hang back. Use your ability at a range, if you can.

They had arrived at the right road. And there was Makorai. Thank the gods.

Now, hopefully Amity was close. For all he knew she had rocketed to the wrong part of the city and was storming around with no idea of the Jotun's location. Clifton kept talking. There wasn't time to say everything, but he had to fit as much as he could.

"Jotuns can be outsmarted. You'll go a lot farther with a little guile than a lot of brute strength. We're a lot better off if we can catch it by surprise. Don't just--"

Makorai's shouting could be heard through the window of the car. The flare went up, casting a crimson glow like a bloody lighthouse.

Or just go ahead and draw the Jotun into face to face combat.

Sure.

So much for stealth.

Clifton climbed out of the passenger's seat and threw open the back of the vehicle.