[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] 11:08[/color]     [color=A9A9A9]//[/color]     [color=0076a3][b]Interactions:[/b] Vincent [@Daxam], Dallas [@pantothenic], Desmond [@Theyra], Ajax [@DClassified][/color][/sub][/right][hr][hr]
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. [color=7FFFD4][i]A-type.[/i][/color] 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. [color=7FFFD4][i]Sonic Blast.[/i][/color] 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. [color=7FFFD4][i]Run![/i][/color] 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. 

[color=orange][b]"That should buy you a bit of time,"[/b][/color] he panted, clutching at his side, where he had taken that shot during his mad charge. [color=orange][b]"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."[/b][/color]

[color=7FFFD4][b]"I'll cover you!"[/b][/color] 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. [color=7FFFD4][i]Right,[/i][/color] Lys thought, [color=7FFFD4][i]back in.[/i][/color] 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.

[color=7FFFD4][i]9/12 on rockets,[/i][/color] she reminded herself, [color=7FFFD4][i]all other ammunition full.[/i][/color] 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. [color=7FFFD4][i]Vincent against both, though? Ajax, where [b]are[/b] you!?[/i][/color] 

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. [color=7FFFD4][b]"Sorry, Vincent."[/b][/color] 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. [color=7FFFD4][b]"Fuck!"[/b][/color] 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 [i]deep[/i]. [color=7FFFD4][b]"Horsie! [i]Lift![/i]"[/b][/color] 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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