CITY OUTSKIRTS

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The Ruined City. Named as such after succumbing to a scale nine earthquake. It severely damaged and collapsed most structures and caused permanent changes in ground topography. The earth turned it into a death trap. Buildings that were still standing could crumble when put under too much pressure. Gaping pits and cracked asphalt streets made for rough terrain. There was something unnatural about the remnants of the quake. In some places the ground had shaped itself into thick spires, piercing the sky. They seemed to be growing into a designated direction, like a claw reaching from underneath.

The members of the Commune were following a trail meticulously mapped out by Lysandra. It prepared them for the terrain and more importantly gave them a heads up on the likely presence of Lost. They were approaching a hot zone. According to Lysandra's careful calculations, a horde of Lost would be passing this area in about half an hour. Erik, Poppy, Cerise, and Akaia were up front and suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. The horde arrived much earlier than they accounted for and included a type of Lost that could cause them some serious trouble. Infernals. Humanoid lost with glowing eyes and mouths, some had antler like horns and the female variety a feathery type of fur covering. They were especially dangerous as some were reported to retain a fraction of their Revenant blood powers.

"I’ll go in first with my bombs, they’ll be easier to fight if they’re disoriented”

Poppy didn’t take her eyes off of the horde while she was talking. She turned to Cerise, meeting her multi-colored eyes. Eyes which rarely missed their mark.
"Cerise I need you to cover me”

With a wordless glance at Erik and Akaia Poppy stretched out her wings and quietly lifted herself into the air. She flew to one of the stone spires and hovered right behind it. The soft buzzing of her wings was nearly impossible to pick up. The horde was moving and exploring the area, looking for new prey. There were more of them than Lysandra’s drone was able to pick up. Poppy readied one of her bombs.

She swooped down with practiced precision, and dropped the first bomb. It exploded after a short delay. An opium mist spread throughout the infernals. Some dropped to the ground, others staggered away from the area clumsily. They realized what the powder was doing and screeched. Unbeknownst to Poppy one of them had spotted her, wielding a chain and sickle.. She readied her second assault and took aim. The sickle launched with incredible speed and wrapped around her leg.

Before she could react a forceful pull yanked her downwards. Poppy immediately resisted, using increasingly more energy to stay afloat. When her wings began to falter under the pressure she looked around for something to hold onto. She was too far away from the spire or buildings.

The Sidhe's strength was severely outmatched by the infernal’s blood power. It eventually pulled her into a freefall and crashed her into a car. It knocked the air out of her. She coughed and turned onto her back. The adrenaline kicked in and she looked up to see the infernal approaching, he was reeling her in. She winched, feeling the gravel dig into areas where her skin was exposed.

Poppy pushed herself upright by flapping her wings. She breathed hard and attempted to quickly free her leg. She glanced up at one of the buildings.
“Cerise!, take this one down!”

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Place(s): Ruined City - Outskirts
Time: Feb 23rd, 2057 - 11th Hour
Interaction(s): Members of the Forward Team

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Walking through the outskirts of the Ruined City along with Erik, Akaia, and Poppy as part of the Forward Team, Cerise briefly stopped to look up at the dust-colored sky, Lariat held in her hands at the ready. It always feels a bit sad, walking in this city... she mused in her mind. It was far from the first time that she had entered and traveled through the city. Cerise had some now very vague memories of being in this city even before she joined the Commune. The city, after all, held within it many things to scavenge, and though most of it had been picked clean over the years it was very likely that some usable things yet remained that have not been looted yet. "I often wondered how it was to live here before things... went wrong." she mumbled softly mostly to herself.

She focused on being aware of her surroundings after her musing were done, continuing along with the others. It was soon after that that the whole team stopped, becoming aware of the horde of Losts that were not supposed to be there for half an hour more. Yet there they were, horrible once-Revenants that had became devoid of sanity, moving only according to their endless hunger. "....." Cerise observed them, sighing softly at the sight of the creatures. She didn't hate the Lost; they're miserable things victim to their own condition. Even though she had seen countless of them over the years, she remained feeling a bit sad at the thought that these creatures were once Revenants just like her and the others.

Still, she also knew that once a Revenant became Lost, then they remain Lost; no going back. She steeled herself, nodding as Poppy explained her plan and asked for Cerise to provide her with cover. "Got it, Poppy. Big Bro, Kaia, I'm moving up top... Be careful, everyone." Without missing a beat, she then started nimbly climbing up a nearby tall building, one with a faded out billboard on top of it. It was tall enough so that it will provide her with a clear line of sight of Poppy and the horde of Losts, while the billboard should be usable as cover to conceal her from immediate sight by the Losts. For this kind of building, she didn't even need to use her power to quickly get up to the roof; it was easy enough just to find the nooks and edges she needed to climb up.

Finding the rooftop clear of hostiles, Cerise quickly got in position, crouched low to the ground and peeking out from behind the bottom of one of the billboard's thick legs. She focused fully on the task of providing cover for Poppy, closing one eye while looking through Lariat's scope with the other, scanning the area while tracking Poppy's and the Losts' movements. It looked easy enough, and Poppy seemed to manage just fine with her first opium bomb, managing to neutralize some of the horde...

But then it happened very quickly. Cerise spotted the chain and sickle first before the Lost who wielded it. She quickly followed the chain back to the wielder just as the Infernal Lost slammed Poppy down into a car. It was then very obvious to Cerise what she needed to do. She adjusted her aim just as Poppy shouted out for her to take the Infernal out, all calculations such as the distance to the target and the strength and direction of the wind done nearly instantly out of an abundance of experiences and skill slowly honed over the years. She got it, the Infernal's head right in her sight, and all she had to do was to squeeze Lariat's trigger.

Then she heard the groaning noise behind her. Cerise's eyes widened as she gasped and promptly disappeared into a pool of shadowy tendrils just as something swished through where her head was just the moment before. She reappeared near the top of the billboard, eight tendrils resembling shadowy spider legs emerging from her back and attaching her to the billboard's back. She had Lariat already aimed at the attacker that had ambushed her, traces of shadowy tendrils still on the creature itself... It was a Lost, one that evidently used to be a Revenant that possessed powers similar to her own.

Cerise did not hesitate. She squeezed the trigger, firing a bullet right at the head of her attacker while shouting as hard as she can. "I'm ambushed! Big bro, Kaia, get Poppy out of there!"

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This is a haunted place, 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 cold, 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: "Predict for us, science lady!" 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...

Assuming they maintain their speed of 7.5 km/h... she did some mental math and consulted the map of the city in her mind's eye. A deviation of forty-five degrees... She accounted for the fact that they'd be unable to take a perfectly straight course given the grid layout of the city. Average walking pace of 5 km/h for a healthy human in their twenties or thirties... 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 Now.

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. Thralls, Tentacles, and... Shit! Infernals.

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. "Horsie, push!" Lys commanded. "Terrain following: friendlies, and avoid non-friendlies - ten meters!" 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. "All systems active: battery 100%, ammunition 100%," a readout displayed. "Sage, orbit and defend mode," 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. "Target Locked," read a readout in appropriately blood red letters. "Fire?"

She had a dozen rockets and one full reload. There were three thralls headed straight for Akaia. Time to thin those numbers out, Lys decided. She added a second target. "2 Targets Locked. Fire?"

She pressed the button. "Kaboom, Bitches."

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_{___________________________________________________________________________________________}

A K A I A

A K A I A

<sub>The Ruined City · Morning · Interaction @DreamingFlowers@FunnyGuy

___________________________________________________________________________________________</sub>

Akaia pushed a switch on her mask and the blades in the ventilation reversed with a click. As her breathing slowed and became more deliberate, the scenery around her head and chest began to swirl as if disturbed by a thick gas. In an odd dance of light and air, her every inhale and exhale pulled at the edges of her surroundings, wrapping it around her like silk rolling over skin. This illusion folded over the girl until she was nearly invisible by the time the arrow pierced thrall was within reach. She sidestepped it as it collapsed on the ground between herself and Erik, the sudden movement disturbing the incomplete camouflage and pushing the pollen into a violent swirl. A black and wispy mist of miasma began to seep from the Lost's wounds.

"Okay Akaia, take out any that get too close to us." Erik said to empty air. An urgency driven by plight pushed her to ignore the command to sentry and move instead toward those who were in more immediate danger. Cerise had already dispatched the thrall who had ambushed her and those converging on the rear guard she knew would be handled. Poppy on the other hand was still vulnerable and while Lysandra had taken care of the one that had knocked her out of the sky, the Sidhe had fallen in the middle of the field and was now horribly exposed so far ahead of the main group. Lost closest to her were already beginning to close in and one was particularly closer than the rest.

Akaia pulled her hood over her head and broke into a sprint, keeping her body low to the ground and throwing her weight forward. She remained mostly invisible, thanks in part to the pollen sticking to her poncho as intended. Her pants and boots however, were not similarly treated and so as she moved the transparency around them failed. Anyone paying close enough attention would notice a shimmering imperfection. As she cleared the distance between herself and Poppy, light bending pollen and dust swirled behind her like an angry cloud, easily giving away her position, but it mattered little to Akaia. Before a half a minute had elapsed, she was already stepping past Poppy and up to a thrall as it finished clamoring over the car she'd landed on earlier. It raised its weapon into the air.

"aaaAAAAGH!"

In one fluid motion, Akaia snapped the wood of her staff to release the blade, twisted it around in her hand and thrust it forward, pushing as much of her momentum as she could into her attack. The point slipped through like butter down to the hilt, stopping the creature in its tracks and causing her to slam into its chest. More air left her lungs as she felt the thing buckle against her and then begin to push their combined weight in the wrong direction. Threatening to take her to the ground with it, she immediately stepped back and dropped to a knee allowing the Lost to slump lifelessly over her partially distorted body. Having pierced its heart with a well placed jab, she didn't have to wait long for the immense weight to ease as the thrall began to disintegrate. Miasma pooled around a motionless Akaia as both her and the Lost disappeared from sight. Not long after she had arrived, the only traces left of her was a disturbed patch of dirt, a cloud of dust kicked up from her violent stop, and the remnants of a forgotten Revenant.

She would remain a sentry here until Poppy took flight while Licorice remained in the sky, a black bead in it's foot.

Interactions: Rear Team

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So far so good, Desmond thought as they entered the Ruined City. He has never been to this place before, and while he liked to explore when he was younger. It never entirely went away, but this city was different than the one he was raised in. Maybe it is the earthquake that leveled the place, or maybe it was the Lost that inhabit the abandoned city. Or maybe it was the unnatural spires that protrude out of the ground. Perhaps it was all three since when did earthquakes create spires? Desmond has a bad feeling about this place, and it reeks of death. Something that only he and maybe Lysandra could taste it in the wind.

Either way, they have a reason to be in this place, and if everything goes right. It would be an easy quick in and out and based on Lysandra's calculations. That a Lost patrol would come by here but, not for half an hour. So plenty of time to avoid them, and he is used to avoiding Lost when he could while on scavenge run. Well, he is going to see if Lysandra's calculations proved true or not since, in his experience, Lost tend to surprise people when it comes with trying to predict them.

Then the front team stopped in their tracks and ordered the rest to stop. Well, there goes that, he thought, and Desmond readied himself for a fight. Unslinging his rifle and Poppy sprang into action first fellow by the rest of the front team. That was when Desmond spotted more Lost that was coming from a multi-leveled parking garage and moving in the space between both teams. "No," Saying it under his breath. "They are trying to cut us off." Taking aim at the incoming thralls and started firing away. Taking careful shots to make the most of the ammo he has. Taking down some of the thralls down, but there was still more and with two infernals coming with them. And it makes things worse for the Rear team. One of the infernals was using a shield to protect himself. "Just our lucky day," Desmond said while gritting his teeth.

Desmond not even trying to shoot the shield, thinking that his bullets could not penetrate the shield and waste the ammo. So he switched to his glave as the thralls and infernals got closer. Sticking close to Lysandra to guard her since he is in drone mode. He turned his head to look at the others in Rear Team. "Ajax, Vincent, Dallas, I could use some help over here guys!" Before turning his vision back to the incoming Lost and prepared to strike when they got into reach with his glaive.

_{Interactions: Members of Rear Team}

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Bits of concrete and asphalt crunched under Vincent's shoes as he leisurely walked with the rear team, his hands laced behind his head. An itch sprung up on his cheek and he went to scratch it, only to grumble quietly when he remembered he still had his mask on. It was a simple half-mask that he had found weeks ago when his old one became damaged, so it didn't hamper his sight at all. Regardless, he hated wearing the thing simply due to the fact that his face seemed to itch only when he had to wear it. And now that's gonna bug me all day, he thought with a sigh. At least I don't have to sneeze. I hate sneezing in these things.

As he and the rest of his team passed underneath a leaning building, he looked up at the old structure. With his limited memory, it was next to impossible for him to imagine that people had normal lives before the Collapse, but it didn't stop him from trying to figure out what each building was for. Well, it's tall. Or, it used to be when it was straight up, I guess. Maybe it was one of those 'high-rise apartments'? Ooh, or maybe everyone had their own gliding machines and they used that building to take off! ...Nah, that's stupid.

As his thoughts settled down, they once again turned to the one thing he could recall: the name 'Erica.' That was all he could remember of what he assumed was his life before the Collapse and didn't know anything else about it, save for it being a woman's name. That, and the strange, longing ache in his chest that appeared every time he thought of it. Must've been one hell of a woman if her name's lodged in my head like this, he thought with a mix of grim amusement and distant sadness.

Shouting from up ahead drew his attention away from his thoughts. He stopped dead in his tracks as he began to feel the welcome sensation of his heartrate increasing. His muscles tensed and he could feel the adrenaline flow into his bloodstream, sharpening his senses and filling him with an excitement so familiar, it may as well be an old friend. "Finally!" he shouted, not caring that the Lost had appeared much sooner than they expected. In fact, he was overjoyed. "Time to have some--"

The sentence was brought to an abrupt end when something slammed into his shoulder. He stumbled, having been caught off guard, and looked up when he regained his balance to see a glowing thrall--What was it, again? Oh, yeah, an infernal!--firing crimson bursts of energy in the rear team's direction. He jumped behind a car and sat down with his back against the door, though not before he saw another infernal appear with a shield. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" he shouted. "First bit of action in days and not only do they have a shield, but a goddamn gunner, too?!" He peeked his head around the front of the car and yelled at the infernal, though he knew full well that taunting it wouldn't provoke a reaction, "Bet you're nothing without that little toy of yours! Get down here and fight me like a fucking man!"

"Ajax, Vincent, Dallas, I could use some help over here guys!"

The shout pulled Vincent's attention away from the infernals and over to where Desmond was defending Lysandra, who was doing...something that Vincent didn't understand, from a group of thralls. He looked back over to the gunner and approaching shield infernal and let out a growl. "Alright. First, give them some breathing room. Then, help that infernal discover what his gun tastes like!" he grumbled to himself.

Still crouching behind it, Vincent turned toward the car he was using as cover. He gripped the frame of the car from underneath and, as crimson and orange energy flickered around his arms and shoulders, he lifted the vehicle up onto its side, exposing the undercarriage. He let go of the frame and gripped the propeller shaft and lifted it until the shaft was level with his shoulder. He held tightly onto the vehicle as he ran to Desmond and Lysandra, using the car as cover. He could feel the car shudder each time the infernal gunner hit the top of the vehicle with its blasts, the metal crunching with each impact, and he hoped the car would hold together at least until he got to where he was going.

When the first thrall noticed him, Vincent jumped and, with a yell, brought the car down on top of the creature. It dissipated almost instantly, but Vincent didn't stop to watch it. Knowing he could take at least a couple more hits from the gunner, Vincent held the car in front of him and charged forward. He used it like a plow, bashing his way through the crowd of Lost that had gathered in front of Desmond and Lysandra, then swung the car to send them flying. He then planted the car on its side between his allies and the gunner infernal to give them cover. "That should buy you a bit of time," he told them as he held his side, where he had taken another shot during his mad charge. "I'm gonna get back out there and try to get that fucker shooting at us. If I can get the shield guy, too, then that's a bonus."

With that, he jumped back out of cover and ran forward once again, narrowly dodging blasts as he yelled obscenities at the infernals.

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Dallas was secretly happy that Erik and Ajax had agreed to let him take up the rear guard. By some coincidence, the B team was composed of everyone he thought had the highest chance of getting hurt on the mistle investigation. He knew Lysandra could handle herself, but her physical limitations would make it difficult to escape certain dangers. Desmond was another rare human who had the motivation and skill to fight the Lost and win, but his visual blindspot might be fatal. Vincent was a complete unknown, which meant there was no way to predict how he would move once the fighting started. Dallas had just met him a couple days ago and this was their first time working together. In summary, Dallas was in panic mode over this job. He was so focused on watching everyone's backs that he didn't even notice where he was going, and would sometimes trip over the odd piece of trash or rubble.

All of a sudden a loud screeching sound could be heard in the distance, along with muffled explosions. Dallas could see the members of the scout team springing into action after making contact with a patrol of Lost. The spreading gas from Poppy's bombs was making it difficult to see everything going on, but Dallas could tell that it was a scramble. Both Poppy and Cerise were engaged. Dallas winced as he saw Poppy get sent flying by an unseen assailant. He did his best to contain himself and put his trust in Erik. That man wouldn't let anyone die as long as his sword could reach them. They had Lysandra supporting them as well.

Dallas heard their point man Desmond call out new contacts and snapped to attention. There were all sorts of thralls filling the streets, and from the alleys and broken buildings the slumbering tentacles were also beginning to emerge. Worst of all, it looked like the Lost were being supported by several Infernals, some of whom had begun to engage the rear team. Just as Desmond started unloading into the approaching horde, Dallas saw a bright light shining amongst the Lost. Then there was pain.

For almost a minute, Dallas lost his ability to comprehend what was going on. All his senses were jumbled up. Conscious thought ceased as his brain attempted to reboot from whatever damage he'd suddenly sustained. His sight refocused, and Dallas realized he was looking up at the sky. He'd been knocked over. He slowly spread his awareness to the rest of his body and waited for his nerves to give him the damage report. Pebbles were uncomfortably digging into Dallas's back. His ears were ringing. There was a dull pain radiating through his head, numbed by a rush of adrenaline. He could feel blood clogging his throat as well. Dallas coughed to clear his airways and carefully touched his face. My nose is... broken... Dallas bit the pain as he calmly pushed himself into an upright position.

Dallas sat up just in time to see Vincent chuck a car at a crowd of Lost before charging into the fray, dodging energy attacks from the same infernal that had knocked him out. Dallas's heart started beating rapidly at the thought of Vincent fighting so many enemies by himself. Dallas did his best to shake off the pain. He grabbed his fallen great axe and stood up. The injury hurt, but it wasn't something that would affect his ability to fight.

Come on Vincent, don't just go by yourself...! Dallas wiped the blood off his face and started moving. He quickly took note of Desmond and Lysandra's situation. Normally they would be his first concern, but it looked like Vincent had earned them some breathing room with his frenzied assault. As long as Dallas carried the momentum, Lysandra would have enough time to recall her drones and bolster the rear.

Dallas avoided Desmond's cone of fire and began mowing through the thralls like a battering ram, trying to catch up to his ally. It was a mud fight. He used the shaft of his oversized axe to push and shove, deflect the predictable attacks of the Lost, and knock them off balance. The moment he had any space, he was chopping enemies down with huge horizontal swipes. The centrifugal force of his heavy weapon had a devastating effect on any Lost that Dallas could manage to hit. Limbs and torsos were flying and it looked like Dallas had managed to momentarily break their disorganized formation.

Out of nowhere, a tentacle howled as it broke through a window up above. Dallas had only a second to notice before the weight of its body sent him crashing into the asphalt once more. Misfortune struck as his left arm crunched underneath the combined body weight of himself and the creature that had ambushed him. It would hurt later, but right now he barely felt it. His hands let go of his axe and it went flying out of his reach. In a split second, Dallas twisted his body so that he could face the tentacle beast grappling him. He could feel his skin tear as he knocked its claws aside and pushed against it with his leg and his one good arm. Dallas's eyes glowed like fire. With a powerful push he sent it flying against the building it had emerged from. The Lost beast left an imprint where it had impacted the concrete, but it wasn't dead just yet. In fact, it was already maneuvering for another attack. To top things off, the nearby thralls were beginning to close in once again.

Dallas retrieved his axe and hefted it over his shoulder just in time to avoid a spear thrown at him. He was plenty strong enough to swing his axe one handed, but its cumbersome size meant that using it to block was extremely unwieldy without both hands. All he could do was dodge. Dallas could sense that Vincent was getting farther away, and he had no way of knowing if his friend was okay. Another thrall came at him with a bayonet. Dallas sidestepped it and smashed his knee into its midsection, sending it reeling. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and Dallas ducked down just before the tentacle managed to leap onto his back. There was too much to react to right now. His frustration was building to the limit. He should have paired up with Desmond or Ajax before trying to go after Vincent, but now he was the one who needed rescuing. He already knew how ironic it was to chastise Vincent for going alone.

Dallas momentarily thought of Poppy's icy stare drilling into him as he successfully bisected one of the tentacle's limbs.

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The string of curse words that flashed through her thoughts was a rich and colourful one. This wasn't Lysandra's first rodeo - not by a longshot - but things were dicier than usual. She'd gotten reckless. The Advance team could've saved themselves. Now there were enemies closing in from two of the four cardinal directions and she was undefended save Desmond and her own weapons. Her fingers found the necessary switches and Sage and Princess rocketed back, rotors screaming at full thrust. No sooner had they arrived above her than the air lit up with crimson bolts. Her skin prickled with sheets of cold static. A-type. She watched Dallas take a clean head shot through Princess' rapidly-gaining cameras and he slumped to the ground. Three thralls closed in on his prone figure and her nerves fried with adrenaline and a sense of helplessness. She took Sage off of follow mode and set him to engage the hostiles. Sonic Blast. Dallas was unconscious and the others were far enough away that it wouldn't be anything worse than unpleasant for them. Then Vincent was taking a glancing blow to the shoulder from the A-type and he was nearly spun off of his feet. Sage blasted the thralls and they screamed and batted wildly at their heads, halting their advance on Dallas. Vincent had recovered and was racing over to the husk of a car. He dived behind it, taking shelter, and that was one less thing to worry about. Lys, however, was out in the open: a sitting duck. There was an O-type coming too, shield up. Dallas was down. Vincent was cornered. Desmond was close to being overwhelmed. Run! screamed every instinct that Lysandra called her own, the impulse of a scared animal demanding that she turn tail and take flight like she had countless times before, darting and dodging through the labyrinth of ruins until she was safe. That instinct, however, was lost on her body. Numb and dumb to it, her legs refused to move and reason reclaimed her.

Lysandra set Princess to turret mode, Evasive pattern Z, released her brakes, and flipped her headset up. For a moment the diffuse glare of the real world caused her to blink, but then there was a massive groan and Vincent was rushing forward with the car held out like a shield. She watched him leap with it and bring it down on top of a thrall. He was an absolute battering ram, plowing through them like it was nothing. She put hands to wheels and headed for the cover that he was offering. Then, he took a shot from the A-type that staggered him. Her heart caught in her throat as he winced and nearly dropped the car. He recovered himself after a second, though, and gritting his teeth, stepped in front of her and slammed it down. A half-dozen thralls dissipated and he stood there in repose, burning with reddish-orange energy. Lysandra was saved.

"That should buy you a bit of time," he panted, clutching at his side, where he had taken that shot during his mad charge. "I'm gonna get back out there and try to get that fucker shooting at us. If I can get the shield guy, too, then that's a bonus."

"I'll cover you!" she shouted, but he was already moving, screaming out loud at the Lost all of the obscenities that she had screamed only in her head. Immediately, her attention turned to Desmond and Dallas. Ajax had made a break for the shadows earlier, and she could only assume that he had some greater purpose in mind that she couldn't see. The former had taken cover behind her, switching from gun to glaive, focused on warding off the stray Thralls. The latter was up, with a bloodied nose, and charging back into the fray, wrecking house with his battleaxe. Right, Lys thought, back in. He had things well under control. She had enough cover. It was time to help Vincent, and so she flipped her headset down and took control of Princess, setting Sage to orbit and defend her and Desmond.

9/12 on rockets, she reminded herself, all other ammunition full. She needed to take out that A-type or, if the opportunity presented itself, Princess could slip in behind the O-type, where its shield would be useless. Vincent against both, though? Ajax, where are you!?

Then, everything changed. Lys was so in the moment, piloting Sky Princess, that she barely registered the crash, but she physically felt the massive Tentacled Lost slam Dallas into the ground. She saw his arm hang limp and she saw the thralls closing in. "Sorry, Vincent." She almost couldn't do it. She felt like she was abandoning him, but Dallas needed her help more and that took precedence. She steered Princess toward the gang of thralls approaching him, added a bit of height, and target locked the two closest to him. Princess confirmed lock and she grimaced as she spent two more rockets. A readout in red confirmed two targets down and she decided that should give Dallas the breathing room he needed to deal with the Tent.

Then, however, Sage's proximity warning beeped and she switched to his view. Two more tentacles emerged from the building at her seven, the one with what she recognized as a faded 'Subway' sign. She doubted the Lost were smart enough to have done this intentionally, but the Rear Team was being caught in a pincer movement. Those things were big, too. They usually took two rockets each, and she was already down to seven. Lys set Princess to sonic blast them before they were too close. She put hands to wheels and turned, unable to see what she was doing but recognizing a one-eighty by muscle memory. Instinctively, she backed up a push but, by the time that she felt the ground slip out from under her left side, it was too late. She shifted her weight, nearly thrown from her wheelchair, and settled at an angle, wheel caught in a deep crack that must've been the result of Vincent slamming the car. "Fuck!" she shouted, straining to push herself free.

Lys tore off her headset and looked down. To her horror, the controller had slid off of her lap and clattered to the ground, out of reach. She tried to wrench her right side around, but there was no wiggle room. The crack was just the right width and her wheel was in deep. "Horsie! Lift!" She commanded, fighting down a rising panic, but the ground was caved in around the car and he was at an angle, unable to get much leverage. He tipped back and forth as he tried. The pair of Tents were whipping at Princess with their tentacles and one actually nicked her. Lysandra's stomach turned into an icy pit, but the drone spun away, recovered, and rose higher, its automatic defensive programming kicking in. They lumbered closer and she grabbed for her bow. The angle wasn't perfect. She had to twist her body awkwardly. She was loath to use up one of her few high-explosive arrows, but this would have to be a one-shot kill. There was no time to breathe deeply or set herself. She pulled back and loosed.

The sheer force of the explosion was fantastic. It reverberated through her chest like a thunderclap and she blinked, half flash-blinded and deafened. Chunks of the Tent were strewn all over the place and, absently, she noticed its guts on one of her legs. The second Tent had fared much better, though. Flung to the side, it was burnt all down one flank and had lost an arm and a couple of tentacles, but it stumbled to its feet, very much alive and very much furious. It let out a bellowing roar, tendrils writhing and glowing, and charged at her.

---

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_{Location | The Ruined City
Time | Febuary 23^rd - Morning
Interaction | Notes Various Rear Guard Squadmates; Lysandra @Force and Fury}

---

The Sword heard them before they showed. Before they spilled out onto the street that the team was on. The desperation in their run, footsteps like raindrops on aged and cracking tarmac. He felt the sudden rise in his system, his heart. If his mask were off, one could probably see something of an uncomfortable smile on Ajax’s face. Fresh meat. Was what the voice in the back of his head whispered to him. Though the problem lied in the question that came with it; did it mean the Lost approaching…or his teammates?

Regardless of the mental tug of war, Ajax pulled his trusty jian from its place. The mission was of prime importance, and the plan was key to success. That made him eye their position in relation to the front team. The gap between them was perfectly split by a parking deck’s entrance, and right on cue, some Lost out like a dam had cracked. Taking into account the types of Lost they were getting, the Sword’s eyes narrowed. ”Remember the plan! Push forward to keep ranks!”

At least, those were his thoughts expressed in a command initially. Lysandra had predicted a herd to be hitting this area previously, but it was meant to be in a half-hour. Clearly, she may not have accounted for the lurking ones. The ones that could smell fresh humans— something they surely hadn’t had in quite a while. Ajax growled under his breath, as the developing mist from Poppy’s bomb made thrm difficult to number. If they continued at this rate, more would hear the commotion and come, then they’d have to break to keep the humans safe. They had severely limited stamina, even with how trained they were.

Ajax needed to act quickly, but he needed a vantage point to prioritize where the concentrations were. Turning his head to the side, he caught an alleyway. It surely looked like a dead end, the walls between three buildings being the clear barrier. To Ajax, it looked like a quick way up as he studied the sturdy enough looking fire escape of a rundown apartment building. Returning his jian to its sheath, Ajax eyed the others briefly as they sprung into action. He measured it out, and despite the infernals, they should last just long enough…

With that, he begrudgingly but swiftly broke formation to slip into the alley. Making a break for the back wall, his canter broke into a gallop, and from a gallop to a sprint. Calculating the angles he wanted, Ajax started a diagonal wall-run. With clearly well practiced posture, he maintained his momentum to keep him on an upward incline. Eyeing the fire escape one more time to confirm its sturdiness and his landing target, his view flickered to the rapidly approaching back wall. Propelling himself forward, Ajax flicked the curved knife hidden in his jacket sleeve to latch into the back wall. He only took half a second to brace before spring-boarding himself backwards and off. Contorting his body to turn around, his free arm extended to the railing of the fire escape.

His gloved hand crashing into and gripping the railing, he got about four-fifths of the way up the five story structure. It took no time to get up the rest, and once on top of the rundown structure, he jogged to the edge to survey the situation. So far, there hadn’t seemed to be anymore exiting the parking deck, making this seem to be the group as a whole. He could estimate roughly 25 in all, a small group really, but the tentacles and infernals were the main threats. The Forward team seemed to be managing alright, on that front, thus, he focused on his own team.

The ranged infernal, while clearly disrupting Vincent’s advancement, it would keep its distance. His focus on that left open the other, as the purple shield was closing the distance with more thralls in tow. Thus Ajax ran forward and dove off of the edge of the building he was standing on. Timing his landing to be just as the Shielded infernal passed, the Sword used one of the thralls to break his fall, landing between them.

With his boomerang knife still in hand, he spun downward into a wushu cross stance, ducking an attack from one of the thrall’s rudimentary axe. He used the brief spin from the cross stance to generate just enough power for him to throw the knife ahead. While it flew off for the unsuspecting Shield infernal, Ajax unsheathed his jian again to make short work of the four thralls in his vicinity.

From his lowered position, he uncrossed his legs and swept One with a dragon tail. Using the momentum from that spin, he brought his jian up through a Second, slicing the torso diagonally in half with little effort. The Third tried at Ajax again with the axe, but the attack was sidestepped and redirected with one hand into the lunging Fourth.

All the while, the knife sent by the Sword arched into a slash across the back of the Shielded’s back. Clearly wounded a bit, the creature turned its head to look back at Ajax. When it did, it saw the knife caught by Ajax, who smoothly jabbed it into the Third. Roaring his way, it turned around and barreled for him. Ajax repositioned his blade for battle, but that was when he noticed Dallas go down, beneath a tentacled Lost. What was more, his eye caught the glow of another going for Desmond and Lys’ position further back. It looked like the poetic dance of Sword versus Shield would have to be cut short as priority immediately shifted. Turning around, he cocked back his arm and tossed the knife again.

Once done, Ajax sprinted for the Shielded directly. When close enough, he jumped to vault over it, kicking into a sideswipe to clear the purple shield barrier. Once clear though, Ajax kept running past it, to some of the infernal’s slight confusion but it turned to give chase though. Ajax slightly altered the course of his run just slightly as he noticed Dallas suddenly get up, given some aid by drones near his location. Then an explosion came from ahead. It seemed she put up a fight, given the bits that resulted weren’t human, but one of them wasn’t dead yet.

Looking over his shoulder, as expected, the Shield followed after him. Deciding to take advantage of it, Ajax slowed with a jump and tucked his legs. As it cut the chase, the shield glowed once more and made contact with Ajax’s feet, launching him further away. When the Shield infernal briefly stopped after being used, Ajax’s boomerang knife returned, slicing clear through the heart and exploding out of the chest.

Airborne now, Ajax extended his limbs to slow his arch just a bit, his coat flailing like a cap around his form. As he started descending, he flipped his jian backward. Just when it seemed Wheels time had run out, Ajax suddenly crashed down on the tentacled creature. Clearly caught off guard, it tried to writhe free but the sword of the Sword came down hard.

After ensuring the job was done, Ajax looked over at the brains of their operation stuck in a crack in the ground. There was something of a scoff that came from him as he walked nearer. Planting his sword into the ground for the moment, he took hold of Lysandra’s chair, jostling the wheel up and out.

”I thought you trained to have a leg up on those kinds of obstacles…” He commented, handing over her keyboard.

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Lys had been preparing to loose another shot - expanding head and not explosive, since she had zero desire to blow herself up - when she'd caught sight of Ajax hurtling her way. It was an act of trust, putting your life in someone else's hands, but not an unfamiliar one, and one she'd been on both ends of. She kept her bow raised, arrow nocked, until she was sure he'd dealt with the problem. Her hands went immediately to her wheels then in a vain attempt to preempt the embarrassment of being lifted out. It's just the wheelchair equivalent of getting your foot stuck under something, she counseled herself, Could've happened to anyone. Yet, Lysandra was smart enough not to believe her own bullshit. Maybe, someday, she'd be able to accept with grace that she did pretty damned well with half a working body - well enough that she had value to these people - and that it was okay if she needed more help sometimes. That moment did not come now, however.

Ajax jostled her loose. "I thought you trained to have a leg up on those kinds of obstacles…” he teased, and she glared lasers at him as he handed her controller back. "I usually rely on force of arms," she replied, putting hands to wheels. "But I wanted to keep you sharp. Plus -" she smiled sweetly and shrugged "- turning down the chance to be rescued by the Sword of Cerberus himself?" She arched an eyebrow. "I don't think so," she cooed, pausing and perhaps blushing a little. She needed a breath just to say the words: "Thanks, Chop-Chop." In return, she received a simple nod.

Then, Lys turned on the spot, dusting off the controller on her lap and taking stock of things. Sage and Princess were orbiting and Desmond had his glaive stuck in a Thrall's eye socket. It dispersed presently and it appeared to have been the last in the immediate area. Meanwhile, Dallas seemed to have overcome the Tent that had ambushed him and Vincent was almost up in the A-type's grille, about to feed it a righteous knuckle sandwich. "So um... should we -" Ajax pulled his sword and pointed it just as a Kruger Thrall came barreling around the ruined car. Lysandra whipped out the pistol taped to the bottom of her seat and put two rounds into its head. It fell and dispersed. She let out a breath and lowered her gun. Ajax, for his part, returned the sword to its sheath, seeming completely unbothered. "So yeah," Lys continued, "think we should... help those guys or whatever?"

Ajax peered over that way and furrowed his brow. "We'll see," he replied, voice almost evaluative. "Check your devices to make sure they are still functioning well enough."

"Yeah," she agreed. "They look alright." She flipped the controller over on her lap just to be sure, "but I should check." With that, she lowered the headset over her eyes, took up the joystick, and was flying once again.

---

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_{Interactions: Rear Team}

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On your left. Duck. Jump. Pay attention, dumbass, that almost took your ear off! Vincent thought as he rushed toward the long range infernal. While his reflexes may not be as honed as some other AB types, they were enough to enable him to dodge most of the infernal's blasts, if only barely. He had taken another grazing shot to his left thigh in the time since he left Desmond and Lysandra, which tore a hole in his pants and coat, but he was durable, if nothing else. He figured the smart thing would be to find cover, but he couldn't stomach the thought of turtling up behind a car or pavement, waiting for someone else to do the job. Besides, if he did hole up behind some cover, it would be all too easy for thralls to close in on him. Vincent knew he was tough, but if he let himself get trapped, then that would be another memory gone.

His thoughts were interrupted as a thrall suddenly jumped at him from a gap in a nearby pile of rubble to his left. Vincent skidded to a stop and grinned as he caught the thrall in midair by the head. "Perfect! I needed a shield!" he exclaimed as he forced the thrall to drop its weapon by breaking its arm with his free hand before he resumed his charge. The thrall clawed at Vincent's forearm with it's good hand as it howled in pain with each impact from the infernal's crimson energy blasts, but it couldn't get through the thick fabric of Vincent's coat. The shots became more frequent, as if the infernal had started to panic when it realized that Vincent wasn't going to stop, which lead to its blasts becoming less accurate.

When his shield stopped thrashing and began to disintegrate, Vincent came to a sliding stop once more. "This is close enough," he muttered before he threw the thrall at the infernal. Seeing the improvised projectile hurtle toward it, the infernal jumped to the side and the remains of the thrall crashed through the wall behind it. When it turned back toward Vincent, it saw nothing but empty space where he had been standing, then turned its gaze upward when it heard the sound of fabric fluttering in the wind. Vincent had leapt into the air immediately after he threw the thrall and, like a meteor bearing down toward the earth, he now hurtled toward the infernal. "Gotcha now, you bastard!" he shouted, grinning wildly.

Then the infernal threw another blast. Time seemed to slow down for Vincent when he realized the situation he was in. Stuck in the air, he couldn't dodge out of the way of the blast that was destined for his face. The shot wouldn't kill him, but he knew it would stun him long enough for the infernal to finish him off with the short sword in its other hand. If it had been almost anyone else, they probably would have thought that was the end and resigned themselves to their fate. Not Vincent. Driven by instinct, the most potent tool in his possession, Vincent swept his left arm through the air. He felt the bones in his forearm shatter on impact with the crimson bolt of energy, but he ignored the pain and deflected the blast to the left, where it harmlessly collided with a chunk of concrete.

Before the infernal could get another shot off, Vincent landed next to it with a crash. The infernal raised its weapon, preparing to stab with its sword, but Vincent was faster. He turned and slammed the back of his hand into the side of the creature's head. The infernal landed several feet away and tried to get up, but Vincent landed on top of it. His knee caved the monster's chest in and his foot came down on the elbow of the arm it was using to hold onto its weapon. The creature wheezed in pain, unable to howl properly due to its chest having suddenly become concave. Vincent raised his good arm and simply said, "Shut up."

The ground shuddered slightly as his fist came down. Blood and viscera was all that remained of the infernal's head as the rest of it began to disappear. Vincent rose to his feet with a sigh and lifted his left arm to check the damage. The sleeve of his coat was missing up to his elbow and, though his forearm was covered in his own blood, he didn't see any bone poking through his skin. Well, at least there's that. Should heal up fairly quickly, he thought as as he let his arm drop to his side. He turned back toward his comrades and waved at them. "Gunner's down!" he shouted, grinning despite the damage he took.

---

Mentions: Vincent @Daxam

With one of its forelimbs reduced to a bleeding stump, the tentacle's blows had lost some of their potency. Dallas was slowly gaining some leverage in this fight. He quickly jumped back, narrowly avoiding the creature's claw swipe. Dallas raised his axe in preparation for a counter, but was forced to break his stance in order to dodge a thrall charging at him from the left. Dallas cursed and removed the attacker from his personal space with a devastating front kick, causing the thrall to go flying into the tentacle. The impact immobilized both foes temporarily, which was fortunate because Dallas was immediately confronted by two more thralls, which he'd so far failed to finish off.

Swinging this axe with one hand is inconvenient. My attacks are delayed just enough that I'd be open to their strikes if I went in for the kill. All I can do is hold them off with punches and kicks. Dallas gritted his teeth in frustration. He glanced at his left arm which was still paralyzed from the fall he took earlier. The bone didn't feel completely broken; most likely it had been fractured somewhere. However, his arm had gone completely numb as Dallas's body attempted to suppress the pain response from the nerves.

Dallas's ears detected the faint sound of hissing gas. Before the thralls had a chance to engage him, their bodies burst into flaming chunks. Dallas involuntarily tensed his body in response to the heat and impact of Princess's air strike. Seconds after the smoke cleared, there was almost nothing left of the thralls left to dissipate. He looked up and saw Lysandra's prized drone fly away, seemingly needed elsewhere, and offered his silent thanks to its operator.

With nothing left to distract him, Dallas turned back towards the tentacle. The thrall that he sent flying was taking a dirt nap, with its body gradually evaporating into nothing. Perhaps he'd broken its neck or destroyed its organs with that kick. The tentacle was shaking its head, appearing disoriented. It snapped its head towards Dallas, glaring at him with glowing, beady eyes. The tentacle began to stalk towards him in an awkward gait, stumbling every time it was forced to balance on its stump of an arm. A low moan escaped the beast's vocal cords, causing the goosebumps on Dallas's skin to raise up.

I think my arm has some life left in it. I can hit this tentacle at full strength one more time. It's gonna hurt like hell though. Dallas tentatively gripped his battleaxe with two hands. As muscle fibers pulled on fractured bones, the numbness in his arm turned into a shooting pain. He bit back a curse and endured it. The tentacle was moving more cautiously now. Without help from the other Lost, the creature was instinctually wary of Dallas. That hesitation would help him now. He held his axe behind him and tapped into his inner strength, preparing to go all in with his next attack. Dallas's arms gained vascularity as his muscles bulged.

The fight ended in a flash. Dallas kicked himself off the ground and blitzed the tentacle before it could react. Once. Twice. Three times he spun his axe. His entire body rotated with each swing as he tore the enemy apart. Flesh, bone, tendrils. It all split apart like butter. On the final spin, Dallas transitioned into an overhead slash and put his full weight behind it. The blow was so powerful that it completely passed through the tentacle's shredded corpse and shattered the asphalt underneath their feet, sending pieces of blacktop and entrails flying in all directions. When Dallas was finish chopping the tentacle up there was little more than a puddle at his feet indicating it had ever been there.

As expected, Dallas's arm was protesting fiercely. The awakened nerves were so inflamed by the pain that he could feel his own pulse. He dropped his axe and tenderly placed his hand over his damaged arm, fighting back the urge to yell or collapse in agony. For now, he focused on calming his breathing while he waited for the aching to subside. That sucked. I don't know what I'm looking forward to the least; getting chewed up by Lysandra or having to visit Poppy... Dallas sighed at the thought of having to drink more poison on the way home.

"Gunner's down!" Dallas's idle thoughts were interrupted by a cry of victory from afar. Dallas had been so caught up in the moment that he failed to notice Vincent's triumph over the infernal. Furthermore, its shield generating partner along with a majority of the thralls attacking the rear team appeared to be exterminated. Damn, was Vincent THAT strong? Dallas raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Upon further examination, it looked like Ajax had linked up with Lysandra and Desmond. Right, it had to be Ajax. If Vincent could take out two infernals by himself then he'd be a monster on par with the two ex-Cerberus operatives.

The sound of fighting had grown more distant now. Dallas guessed that most of the enemies on this side had been taken out. All that was left was to join up with Erik and the others and help them out of they were still in combat. Now wasn't the time to rest. Dallas dragged his axe off the ground and rested it on his shoulder once more, then he jogged down the street to meet up with Vincent. He looked at his hotheaded friend and noticed just how many shots he'd taken from the infernal. What a tough bastard. "You scared the shit out of me with that stunt. Are you alright?"

Location: Ruined City outskirts
Interactions: Akaia, Dallas

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Poppy's struggle against the chain wielding Infernal came to an explosive end. She was now the one receiving cover fire from up high. The explosive force of the rockets completely destroyed the Infernal. It sent out pieces of debris flying in every direction. She quickly brought up her arms to protect her eyes. She could feel the tiny pieces of metal and stone scrape at her arm guards. The dust settled and the medic quickly surveyed the area. More of them were coming, lured out by the noise of Lysandra's rockets.

A thrall was approaching. It crawled over the car right in front of her. Akaia....
Poppy sensed her even before she spotted the distinctive shimmering shade. Impaled by an invisible force the thrall fell to the ground, particles scattering in a shapeless cloud.
"Thank you Akaia." Poppy nodded to what seemed to be thin air.

The medic struggled to stand, a sharp pain preventing her from putting weight on her left foot. She looked down at her boot, it was scuffed and scratched. The damage underneath was most likely much worse. Judging from the amount of pain it was sprained. Poppy lifted herself off the ground with her wings and hovered over to the car, where she landed on her good foot. She leaned against it, taking a breather. The collision with the roof of the car left her back and shoulders sore.

There were only a handful of thralls left on their end and she had no idea what was going on behind her. She got back up into the air and took aim. The soreness made her arm less steady and she missed her first shots. Two of the five arrows, grazed one off the thralls shoulders. Flying and shooting was going to result in a waste of bolts. Poppy frowned, feeling frustrated with herself. Cerise noticed her aim was off and subsequently took down the thralls with deadly precision shots.

Poppy surveyed the streets below, studying the flow of the battle with wary eyes. It was coming to an end. She assessed each Commune member, concluding most of the potential injuries were located at the rear team. The red haired Sidhe lowered back to the streets and hovered a few inches above the ground.

"How is everyone back here..?" Her face was serious as she fluttered to each member of the rear team. Like a hummingbird, traveling from one flower to the next.

There were a lot more questions she wanted to ask. Mainly who's idea it was to create such ruckus and noise. It was her mistake for being spotted, but the commotion caused there after resulted in unneeded confrontation with the Lost.

Dallas and Vincent needed her immediate attention. Poppy lowered herself carefully to the asphalt kneeling down. She took off her bag and laid out the supplies she needed beside her.
"Dallas I need you to sit down next to me if you can.."

While the custodian made his way over to her Poppy took a sip of water and a painkiller. She offered them to Dallas right away too, along with a pack of blood.
"Take these."

The mellow green of her eyes always seemed to be an odd fit for the intense stare and focus within them. She studied him from head to toe. A broken nose and a badly injured left arm. The medic immediately set out to work. She was short on fabric to create a sling, so she stretched her hooded shawl across his shoulder and back, letting his arm rest inside of it.

She gently cleaned up his face with a wet cloth, not disturbing his nose any further. Without the shawl to cover her shoulders, her bruises were clearly visible. A thin trail of blood also trickled down her left shoulder, probably coming from the back of her head. Poppy was engrossed in her task and didn't notice it.

"If you need any more pain relief, just tell me. You did good." She met his eyes shortly before propping herself up on his right shoulder rather awkwardly. She tensed her wings and flapped them, returning to a hover. Suddenly the street started to sway around her. Poppy gripped her head and stumbled back onto the ground with both feet. She groaned when she felt her ankle hit the street.

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Sage and Princess did a quick scan of the area and, aside from the thralls that Akaia had pinned, things seemed clear. Lysandra brought the pair of drones down, big one on the ground and Sage right into her outstretched grasp. Their buzz died away and she tucked them back into their pouches. Some of Princess' ammo needed reloading, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Injured people came before machines.

It was a sentiment that Poppy seemed to share, and Lys thought that perhaps it was the only sentiment that the two of them regularly shared. With a high-pitched buzz of wings not dissimilar to the sound of her drones, the team's healer began flying over from the forward group to join the rear. Ajax and Desmond appeared fine and Lys was both shaken and stirred but otherwise unharmed. It was Dallas and Vincent who were in rough shape. The former had a busted nose and arm, from the looks of it, while the latter had what appeared to be a badly broken forearm.

"How is everyone back here..?" Lys looked up, blinking, into the diffuse glare of the near-midday sun and its sickly veil of clouds. Poppy hovered only a foot or two above the ground and there was something distinctly... off about her movements, but Lys didn't press. "Pretty banged up," she replied, as Poppy hovered and checked over her, Ajax, and Desmond, asking the usual, almost perfunctory medical questions. "Main concerns are Dallas and Vincent, I think. They got it pretty bad."

Poppy seemed to have come to the same conclusion at about the same time. She fluttered a bit away from the group of three and... knelt on the battered pavement. A flash of worry pricked at Lysandra's stomach, but she tamped down on it. Probably just the sprain but... possible limb weakness? Brain hemorrhage? "Dallas I need you to sit down next to me if you can.."

Lys glanced over. Vincent and Dallas had been talking. She'd been about to break them up herself for treatment, but had hesitated. She'd been trying to change, the past few months: making a concerted effort to be more approachable, nicer, and less pushy. To those two at least, she got the sense that she wasn't just 'that bossy rolling bitch', and she was scared of damaging the positive impression she'd made. Irrational, she scolded herself. They need medical treatment.

"Hey you," she called, making her way over to Vincent, "Megamind."

He turned. "Me?"

"No, the other dude standing around with a broken arm."

"Dallas?"

"Fuck. Okay, 'You, Vincent!' That better?"

"I mean, whatever's good." He grinned agreeably and Lys rolled her eyes, suppressing a rueful smile of her own as she coasted to a stop and twisted to reach into her bag for her first aid kit. "Make yourself useful and look for something to use as a splint," she told him, fishing the kit out and opening it.

"A splint?” Vincent echoed. Then, he looked down at his arm, which had turned an ugly purple, and seemed to remember his broken forearm. "Oh, that! You sure no one else needs help worse than me? I mean, I can wait.”

“Yeah, ‘that’.” She pointed pointedly. "And it can’t wait. You want me to have to re-break the bone?” Softening her voice a little bit, she looked at him and shook her head in what she hoped came across as understanding as opposed to tiredness. “Poppy’s dealing with Dallas and he’s the only other one who’s really hurt.” Besides maybe her… At that moment, Lys noticed a narrow spar of wood, the kind used in wall framing, sticking up from a pile of rubble. She backed up a couple of pushes, turned, and yanked it out with a little grunt of exertion. "Come ‘ere,” she told him, extricating a bandage roll from the kit on her lap.

For a moment, Vincent thought about once more trying to talk Lys into making sure the others were okay, but from the look in her eyes, he knew she wouldn’t be dissuaded. He sat down on a piece of rubble and held his arm out to her. "Alrighty, then, have at it,” he told her with a level of calm that one wouldn’t normally relate to broken bones. "You know, this isn’t even the worst injury I’ve had. Fighting with one eye sucks. I’m not sure how Desmond does it.”

“Don’t just dangle it out there parallel to the ground!” Lysandra hissed. “For fuck’s sake, dude!” She had already laid the splint upon her lap. "Here, arm on my lap.” She patted a thigh. “It needs support or setting it is going to be that much harder.”

Vincent did as Lysandra asked, not thinking too much of it. He couldn’t help but wince, however, as he let his arm come to rest on her lap. If he had to be honest, he was in quite a bit of pain, but years of enduring such injuries, and worse, had left him with a very high threshold for it.

Lys’ hands were as gentle as they could be on Vincent’s arm (which wasn’t very gentle, to be honest) and, after a moment, she responded to his earlier boast. “And hmm, yeah, must be rough losing thirty-five degrees from your field of view. I couldn’t imagine living like that.” She hid her smirk and her eyeroll, still not entirely sure if Vincent was as out to lunch as he seemed or if he was actually just that unaware. He hadn’t been like that in battle, though. He’d been a dynamo there. Carefully, she wrapped the bandage around his arm, feeling him tense up in pain. He wasn’t the type to make a scene of it, but compound fractures hurt, and his was both the radius and the ulna. “You’re doing fine,” she assured him, brushing his shoulder reassuringly with a hand. “If you need to squeeze or bite down on something, tell me. We’re almost done, though.”

Vincent let out a quiet chuckle. "Ah, who do you think I am? Couple of broken bones are nothing for me.” A moment passed and then he added, "Thanks for the concern, though.” When Lys finished bandaging his arm, he flexed his hand a bit before he asked with a smirk, "Now, be honest. Will I still be able to play the piano when this heals?”

She grinned back. "Terminal, I’m afraid. You ain’t never gonna walk again, Vinnie.” She bit her lower lip. “Oops, wrong movie. Anyways…” She shrugged, backing up a push, “The way revenants recover, you should be just fine. Just… don’t do anything stupid, kapish?”

"I’ll try, but can’t make any promises,” Vincent replied, well aware of the kind of person he was.

Lysandra sighed, closed up her kit, and twisted to shove it back into her bag, but it occurred to her that she’d never seen Vincent play the piano. “Wait a sec: you actually play the piano?”

Vincent barked out a short laugh and replied, "Fuck if I know! I know I’ve got rhythm, that makes fighting a lot easier. Beats me if I can do anything more than kick ass with it, though.”

She snorted. “Yeah, you’re pretty good at asskicking. I’ll give you that.” even if one of my drones was on the receiving end the time before this. She shrugged. “I know a few duets, though, so we should test that out later, assuming we pull off this mission and make it back in one piece, huh?”

Whatever Vincent may have said next was cut off by more pressing matters. “Lys, I need an assist over here!” Erik’s voice called. “Everyone else, maintain security so we don't get surprised!”

Lysandra turned on the spot, having to pop a small wheelie to get over some uneven payment, and rushed over to where Poppy was slouching. She’d known that something was wrong. She’d known it!

“Pops, how are you doing?” That was a dumb question, because the answer was obviously “wretched.” She turned to Erik and thought she could pick out the telltale shimmer of Akaia arriving. “She’s concussed," the Commune’s backup medic added. “I think. It could be something else, but let me check.”

Vincent jogged up behind Lysandra. He didn’t have to look at her to know something was wrong and quickly turned around. ”I’ll keep an eye out behind us. Last thing we need are Lost coming up on our asses.” He took a seat not too far away, ready to help carry Poppy if needed. He bounced a good-sized stone in his hand, ready to throw it at anything that might try to sneak up on them.

For her part, Lys twisted briefly - “Thanks, Vincent.” - before turning back to face Poppy. “Poppy,” she began, in a calm, clear voice. She adjusted her position so that the sidhe could lean against her wheelchair if needed. “I need you to answer these questions for me. They’re to make sure this is just a simple concussion, alright?”

At first Poppy didn’t answer any of them. Her ears were ringing and she covered them with her hands, drowning out the concerned voices around her. She opened her eyes to look at Lysandra. The contours of her face were blurry and faded in with the background. Poppy focused on Lysandra’s brown eyes. The answers to the check up questions were out of order and she answered them very slowly. Poppy knew she had a concussion and, after piecing things together, Lys knew it too. Bad as that was, the latter decided, it was better than the other diagnosis she’d feared. It wasn’t a brain bleed. She’d been favouring that leg because of the ankle and not any limb weakness. Small blessings, Lys thought. She’d take what she could get.

Poppy leaned back against the wheelchair and breathed slowly, her eyes closed. The cool metal kept her from fading into unconsciousness. After a couple of minutes Poppy somehow managed to heave herself from the street, steadying herself on Lysandra’s wheelchair. She looked around, almost like she didn’t know where she was, a pained and troubled look on her face. Her gaze kept wandering until she noticed Vincent standing guard. Poppy kept staring at him, feeling as if she’d forgotten something important.

Lysandra noticed her gaze after a moment. “Pops.” She knew how hazy things could be when you were concussed. She tried to make sure she had Poppy’s attention. “I helped him already. See, his arm’s wrapped. I made a splint for him.” She reached up gently. "You need to be off your feet right now. You know this. She turned to Erik. “We can use Iron Horse. Means I might need the odd push, but she needs it more than I do.” Truth be told, Lysandra was not looking forward to some of the terrain ahead, but she felt a bit of personal guilt. She’d gone all boom-boom with Princess and that had probably played a role in attracting all those Lost but, thinking about Vincent and Dallas and just how many enemies there’d been, drawing a swarm had been all-but inevitable anyhow. You’re trying to let yourself off the hook, she realized. Lys reached into her pack, pulled out a controller, and made a few adjustments. Horsie decoupled from the back of her wheelchair and spread out into a little platform one could sit or recline on. She switched the input to ‘follow mode’ and set herself as the target. "Help me get her on?” she prodded Erik, also glancing at Poppy.

“Aye aye cap'n!” Erik winked at Lys, glad to see she was helping handle things as the alternate medic. He carefully carried Poppy, minding her injuries of course. Once Iron Horse positioned itself closer, Erik set the Sidhe down but didn't let her go. He didn't trust her balance. “Pops, you good? You're about to get carried around like a princess.” He grinned, trying to make her predicament seem less gloomy.

The medic wasn’t in any shape to protest. When Erik refused to let her go, Poppy also held on. She was feeling dizzy and didn’t trust herself not to fall off the metal contraption. Her hands squeezed Erik’s forearms.
“I’m dizzy…”

Iron Horse was not yet moving and Lysandra could see that sitting up for long periods would be a stretch for Poppy. She rolled up and spotted the Sidhe, just in case. “Pops, lay down, okay?” She flicked a couple of switches and the servos in Iron Horse hummed as it unfolded further and flattened out into something more like a movable stretcher. There were gaps, of course, and it was far from comfortable, but it was safer. Poppy didn’t protest.

Lys laid a hand on her shoulder momentarily. "We gotcha, Flowers. You just take it easy.” She backed off and took a few pushes forward, experimentally. Horsie did what it was supposed to and Lysandra was satisfied enough, she supposed. "I’ll take first shift with her,” she promised. She took a deep breath and glanced around at the others. They were standing, brushing themselves off, talking, moving restlessly. "Right then, let’s move. We’ve got ground to cover.”

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Desmond Mores

Interactions: Everyone

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The battle was over, and while they had won. Poppy got hurt, and bearing a few, he gunned down with his rifle. The others did most of the work, and he has to remember that he is only human. He almost got overwhelmed by Lost while the others handled it. Not without injuries, of course, but still better than what he did. Either way, the group survived their first brush with Lost in this city, and there are bound to be more Lost within. More reason to step up and help more with defending the group.

Taking out his rifle and walked over to the group. Noting Poppy's wounds while she laid on the Iron Horse. A nice thing that Lys had brought with her with Desmond hopes that this is the worse of it that they will have in this city. If not then, the group could get in serious trouble while on this mission. But, he will try to be hopeful, and this is his time to step up. Speaking up, "Then I call second shift then. The least I can do since I am fine." Taking a deep breath, a thought popped into his head that maybe he should learn more about fixing wounds after this mission. Especially, with their main medic on a makeshift stretcher. But, focusing on the now, "But, we should leave soon before more Lost show up if everyone is ready." Sounding concerned more than anything.