[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/qFC355N.png?2[/img][/center][hr][hr][right][sub][color=1a7b30][b]Location:[/b] En Route to the Dying Mistle @ The Ruined City[/color]     [color=A9A9A9]//[/color]     [color=007236][b]Date:[/b] February 23, 2057[/color]     [color=A9A9A9]//[/color]     [color=00746b][b]Time:[/b] 11:00[/color]     [color=A9A9A9]//[/color]     [color=0076a3][b]Interactions:[/b] Akaia [@Exit], Poppy [@dreamingflowers],Cerise [@Medili], Ajax [@DClassified][/color][/sub][/right][hr][hr]

[color=7FFFD4][i]This is a haunted place,[/i][/color] Lysandra couldn't help but think so as she wheeled along. Of course, she did not believe in ghosts in the literal sense, but it was haunted in other ways, and palpably so.

Ensconced snugly in her gloves, her palms made intermittent contact with the hand-rims of her wheelchair, and the Rear Team's lone female member pushed herself warily along. Finding a patch of blessedly even ground, she took a moment to flex her fingers. The soreness was nothing unusual; such was her life on these long sojourns and she was well used to it. They were [i]cold[/i], though, like it was leeching up from the ground and into her through her wheels. The sun beat dully on a thin, sickly veil of clouds and a dead-smelling wind filled her nostrils. Lys blinked as a gust blew up, reaching out to shield her eyes with a forearm. Unlike the others, save Desmond, she could taste the dust and the death. It lingered in the back of her mouth, dry and scratchy, like the cold lingered in her hands. She coasted until she couldn't any longer, easing herself over an unavoidable crack in the pavement and into the vast, enveloping shadow of a leaning skyscraper. 

Lysandra glanced down and watched the stark line of darkness work its way up her legs, over her hands and chest. Then it was behind her. The final few members of the rear team entered the deep, cool land of unnatural darkness. Up ahead, she could see the lead party leaving it and she longed to be one of them. Tall buildings filled her with unease. They loomed, dead and hulking. They could fall. At any moment, they could plummet, and she would be trapped.

Then there was the quiet. Unnecessary conversation was noise. Noise brought Lost, so Lys' only comfort was the thump of footsteps on pavement and the quiet hum of Iron Horse. Below and behind her, latched onto the dead axle of her wheelchair, he was in 'energy neutral' mode. He wasn't pushing her - thankfully, she had barely needed him for that so far - but neither was he deadweight, having to be pulled.

She continued, pushing a little faster, wanting to be out in the sun. Bleak as it was, any warmth and light were welcome. She was gaining on Desmond, though, and eased off as she passed into the sunlight. It would not do to stretch the defensive diamond that Ajax had insisted on. Half an hour ago, she'd had Sage up and he'd spotted a group of Lost in the area. Truth be told, they could be anywhere now. Their trajectory had had them crossing paths with the Commune's route at some point, and the best course of action would've been to wait them out or detour around them. The first option put pressure on the Sidhe's limited supply of oxygen, though, and that was a dangerous game to play. The second was equally untenable. There was no nearby alternative route that Lysandra could hope to traverse, and going further afield would reproduce the issues of the first.

So the meatheads had asked her for a figure as if it were that simple, just like everybody who had no understanding of probability did: [b]"Predict for us, science lady!"[/b] There were too many variables. For all that Lysandra knew, those Lost might veer off and never arrive, but just as likely, they could arrive well ahead of schedule. The Lost mind was poorly understood, but she had catalogued as many of the different types as she could. She had made an assiduous list of stimuli that seemed to affect them beyond simple prey drive. One or two small changes and they could gallivant off in a different direction. A single alteration and, instead of the Commune's path crossing theirs at a right angle, the Lost could decide to cut across the hypotenuse and could be upon them...

[color=7FFFD4][i]Assuming they maintain their speed of 7.5 km/h...[/i][/color] she did some mental math and consulted the map of the city in her mind's eye. [color=7FFFD4][i]A deviation of forty-five degrees...[/i][/color] She accounted for the fact that they'd be unable to take a perfectly straight course given the grid layout of the city. [color=7FFFD4][i]Average walking pace of 5 km/h for a healthy human in their twenties or thirties...[/i][/color] Lys felt a warning prickle on the back of her neck. Over her objections, they'd squeezed an estimate of 'close to half an hour' out of her, but the Lost could be here as soon as...

Cerise held up an arm. She closed her hand into a fist and the lead group stopped dead in its tracks [color=7FFFD4][i]Now.[/i][/color]

The commune leapt into action, Poppy rising into the air laden with opium bombs, Cerise scrambling up a nearby building with a faded billboard. The Forward Team took their positions and then Lysandra saw the enemy. [color=7FFFD4][i]Thralls, Tentacles, and... [/i]Shit! [i]Infernals.[/i][/color]

They couldn't allow the two Teams to be cut off from each other. Ajax was already barking out orders to that effect, mostly for the newer members' benefit. [color=7FFFD4][b]"Horsie, push!"[/b][/color] Lys commanded. [color=7FFFD4][b]"Terrain following: friendlies, and avoid non-friendlies - ten meters!"[/b][/color] Her hands were already off of her wheels as a fantastic boost propelled her from behind. She reached into her bag and out came Sage, a controller, and her headset. Unceremoniously, she tossed him into the air and his rotors screamed to life. Hurtling towards a vastly physically superior enemy at a breakneck pace, Lys' pulse filled her eardrums. Every time that she did this, it genuinely occurred to her that she might be insane, that her life expectancy was unlikely to be more than a couple of years. Twisting as much as she could, she heaved Princess out of her bag, flicked a switch, and hefted her up into the air. With a stuttered roar, six propellors thrummed to life and Lys flipped the headset down. [color=39b54a][u]"All systems active: battery 100%, ammunition 100%,"[/u][/color] a readout displayed. [color=7FFFD4][b]"Sage, orbit and defend mode,"[/b][/color] she called out, and could dimly register a high-pitched wail as he took off to catch up with his 'sister', but it was a distant thing. 

Lysandra Tran's world faded away and she was no longer a thing chained to her own broken body. She rocketed ahead of the others at over a hundred kilometers per hour, dancing nimbly around obstacles, the world flashing by through Sky Princess' cameras. She saw Poppy's bombs land. She saw the chain come for her friend. She saw Cerise tangling with the infernal who was unnervingly like her. Poppy was being reeled in. Lys' fingers twitched the controls with savant-like speed and precision. She flipped a switch. A glowing box appeared around the Infernal's head. [color=9e0b0f][u]"Target Locked,"[/u][/color] read a readout in appropriately blood red letters. [color=9e0b0f][u]"Fire?"[/u][/color]

She had a dozen rockets and one full reload. There were three thralls headed straight for Akaia. [color=7FFFD4][i]Time to thin those numbers out,[/i][/color] Lys decided. She added a second target. [color=9e0b0f][u]"2 Targets Locked. Fire?"[/u][/color]

She pressed the button. [color=7FFFD4][b]"Kaboom, Bitches."[/b][/color]
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