---

When he heard Dallas’ question, Vincent turned to the older man and grinned. ”Yeah, I’m good,” he said, despite his broken and discolored forearm. ”Takes a hell of a lot more than that to put me down. What about you? No offense or anything, but your nose kinda looks like a squashed tomato.” Dallas shrugged. ”It looks worse than it is. The bleeding’s already stopped. I’m more worried about” Dallas lightly poked at some of the holes in Vincent’s clothes, “this. I hope you're not just acting tough?”

”Well, my forearm’s broken. I don’t need to be a doctor to be able to tell I’ve snapped both bones. Pretty sure I’ve got at least two cracked ribs and my shoulder kinda smarts. Oh, and I got grazed in the leg,” Vincent replied nonchalantly. ”All in all, nothing too bad. Besides,” he nodded back where the A type had been and added with a grin, ”You should’ve seen the other guy.”

“Heh. I was so busy getting chewed up by one of those tentacles that I missed everything. How’d you manage to take that thing out?” Dallas replied.

Grinning, Vincent said, ”So, there I was, charging right at it. It was lobbing those energy balls at me, but thankfully, a thrall was kind enough to offer itself as a shield. I used it to get close, chucked it at the infernal to distract it as I jumped up into the air. It noticed me and threw another shot. It thought it had me dead to rights, but I smacked that shot out of the air–” he tried to swipe his arm through the air and immediately winced. ”That hurt. Anyway, I knocked the shot away, landed next to the infernal, and gave it a good smack. Before it could react, I jumped on top of it and gave it one hell of a headache!”

He took a moment to relish in the satisfaction of a job well done, then turned back to Dallas. ”What about you? What happened to the tentacle?”

Dallas planted his axe on the ground, causing droplets of gore to hit the pavement. “Nothing but a puddle left. My left arm got fractured in a few places after it landed on me though. You wouldn’t believe how heavy those things are.” Dallas felt a bit of blood pool under his tongue and spat it out. His inner cheek was stinging. He must have bit himself earlier during the melee.

Vincent whistled and gave Dallas a friendly smack on the arm. Dallas's eye twitched as he held back a grunt of pain. Vincent seemed to realize what he just did and quickly retracted his hand. "Oops, sorry." As the two muscle heads continued to brag about their kill count, Poppy swooped in from above with a bag of medical supplies. She landed gently next to Dallas and tapped him on the shoulder. "Dallas, come with me. Let's get you patched up." He looked at her and nodded. Dallas turned back to Vincent. "Let's continue this on the ride home. Be more careful in the next engagement alright? I really was worried about you."

---

Poppy led Dallas a few feet away and dropped her bag to the ground. She knelt down and retrieved a case of white pills, a blood pack, and two small water bottles. "Dallas, I need you to sit next to me if you can." Dallas complied with her instructions and sat cross legged on the pavement. She opened the pill case and put one of the capsules in her mouth, then washed it down with a sip of water. Poppy offered one to him as well, along with the extra water bottle and a blood pack. "Take these. Dallas popped the painkiller into his mouth and then took the drinks out of her hands. As he twisted the cap on the bottle and took a sip, he noticed the sidhe's eyes burning a hole in his head. Every time she examined him for injuries Dallas wondered if Poppy had x-ray vision. For all he knew she did. Dallas knew very little about her race.

Poppy studied Dallas up and down while asking him questions about his condition. Once she learned of his injured arm, she began rummaging through her pack for something to cast it with. "Shoot, I'm low on fabric..." Poppy let out a sigh. Without missing a beat, she removed her shawl and stretched it around his shoulder in an improvised sling. Dallas ignored the discomfort while she adjusted his arm into a secure position. The wingspan of his arm was evidently a challenge to fit into the garment.

"Keep your head still." Poppy dabbed a cloth with water and scrubbed at Dallas's dirty face. The cloth quickly turned brown with dust and dried blood. Now that the combat high was gone, Dallas suddenly realized how unsteady his breathing was. Though the battle was short, he felt fatigued. He could not explain why. His breathing wasn't affected that badly by the injury. After all, he could still use his mouth. I'll just keep it to myself. I'm probably overthinking it.

Once she finally removed the cloth from Dallas's face, he noticed the ugly bruises on her exposed shoulders. His passive expression darkened ever so slightly. Poppy must be hurting too. I hope she's not pushing herself too hard... Dallas wanted to say something, but he hesitated and ultimately kept his mouth shut. He truly had no idea how to talk to Poppy. He supposed this would be another of their one-sided conversations.

"Let me know if you need anything more. You did good." Dallas nearly let his surprise show on his face after hearing those words. Before he could formulate a reply, Poppy propped herself on his shoulder so she could stand up and then hovered away. For a brief moment, Dallas was alone with his thoughts. I did good huh? Well, this IS the lightest injury I've ever received while working with the Commune.

A minute or so passed before Dallas heard a commotion nearby. He could hear Erik giving orders to the team. Erik sounded unusually serious this time around, which meant someone on the team was in bad shape. "Everyone, maintain security so we don't get surprised!" Dallas grabbed his axe and stood up in a flash. No more time to ponder. It was back to business. He distanced himself a bit further from the rest of the group in order to expand the perimeter. While sitting atop a piece of rubble, Dallas tried to ignore the tense conversation taking place behind him. As concerned as he was, he was more useful keeping an eye out for any remaining Lost.

---

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---

---

Lysandra was thinking irrational thoughts: emotional thoughts, and she didn’t like it. Akaia had deigned to appear sometime after Lys had rushed over from treating Vincent, and was now… being a panicky bitch. As she and Erik had helped Poppy onto Iron Horse, the human had taken a deep inward breath and ignored the priceless medical equipment being carelessly tossed on the ground by a shimmering cloud. Akaia was stressed. She was worried. Her reaction was… garbage, but Lys could sympathize with it. The main matter here was getting Poppy off of her feet and keeping her resting but awake. It was not as bad as the brain bleed that she’d feared, but a concussion was no laughing matter. There was a cut she’d briefly dabbed at with a swab while Poppy had been leaning against her wheelchair, but it wasn’t deep and it would scab. Any cut on the head bled a lot due to the density of blood vessels, but that didn’t make it serious, and definitely not worth wasting bandages on when they were at a premium. That’s just rational, Lys reassured herself, Right?

But then, as she was just about to start moving, as Desmond had agreed to start moving, Birdbrain plucked the last of their bandages from the bag, leaving everything else on the ground, including her coat, and shouldered past Lys and Erik, giving them the evil eye and some sort of… Is that the Sidhe version of a middle finger?

Uh oh…

Akaia knelt before Poppy, shifting the concussed patient and wrapping her head with the finesse of an ox, all while stealing glares at Lys and Erik. You’re testing me, the former thought. She's upset, the latter frowned. Stupid goddamned child: you are really fucking testing me right now. Against her better nature and judgement, Lys rolled up to the Sidhe. “There a reason you’re glaring at me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” she demanded. “There a reason you’re tossing our sterilized medical supplies on the ground and wasting our last few bandages, less than halfway into the mission, for a minor scalp cut?” Her eyes were wide with anger, nostrils flared. “Hmm?” She prodded. “Because there had better be a damned good reason.”

Akaia leaned toward Poppy protectively on Lysandra's approach and then held up a hand in front of her own face. The fingers were stained a deep red up to the knuckles. “Blood.” She hissed under her breath.

Yes, Lysandra thought, ‘Blood’. ‘Hand,’ Lysandra thought. ‘Bandage,’ Lysandra thought. ‘Pah-pee’, Lysandra thought as well, in the most condescending internal tone. For fuck’s sake, I am surrounded by intellectual pygmies. She raged at their stupidity, simplicity, and emotionality. For just a split second - so fast that she could later convincingly deny that it had ever happened - she hated Akaia with every fibre of her being. She hated the mission. She hated the team. She hated herself for needing the team to be able to do anything of consequence. Then, it passed, a hot wash of guilt and recognition of her hypocrisy following quickly on its heels.

In psychological terms, this was the ‘Curse of Knowledge’: when you’re advanced enough on a topic, it can be hard to explain things to people who aren’t. It can be hard, even, to see their perspective. Lys realized that she hadn’t even explained. She should’ve seen this coming. She should’ve said something to prevent the inevitable freakout. Akaia was… protective of Poppy. Lys was… not good with other people’s emotions. She knew that. God, if only the world could all just see things my - objectively superior - way. She indulged herself the arrogant little thought, not truly meaning it, at least not entirely.

“Yes,” she replied, counseling herself calm. “I know she’s bleeding. I know it looks bad.” She tried not to use the voice that she would with a very young child - that was condescending - but it was an effort not to. “Akaia, part of that is because you keep touching it, and most is because that’s what happens with head cuts. There are a lot of blood vessels in your head, but there’s no real danger. I would’ve wrapped her if there was.” Her eyes flicked between the two Sidhe and briefly over to Erik’s silently engaged face before returning. “Why didn’t you trust me? Or at least ask me? Are we teammates or not?” She didn’t really even want to deal with this. She put hands to wheels, ready to turn away and deal with shit that she knew how to handle. There were no more bandages. The supplies were still on the ground. Someone would have to clean up the mess.

Akaia shook her head. "No time." She then pointed at her head in a gesture that didn't make any real sense. "I fee-... kno-...I kno-... " Her face turned to a grimace as a thought became lodged and instead of voicing it she grabbed her chest and grunted quietly. "'If you don't help you will die.'" She said in someone else's voice. There was a quiver to her lip as she spoke though it was hard to tell if it was from her anger or something else.

Lysandra regarded Akaia incredulously for a moment. That wasn’t a threat. It was a mimic. Someone had spoken precisely those words, in that tone, to the Sidhe at some point and she’d thought it meaningful to bring up right now. Lys jerked forward, blinking. “Flower Power, what the fuck? Who said that to you? Why are you trying to creep me out?”

“A dead man. Dead. I ki-” She stopped herself before she could finish the word, biting her lip as if she were holding something in rather than forgetting it. Her body seemed to tremble slightly.

Lysandra raised an eyebrow. “I think the word you were looking for was ‘killed’, hun, unless it was ‘kicked’, in which case I’m jealous.” She paused, tucking away any sort of mocking attitude. This was clearly a matter of import for Akaia. “Listen: I’m sure you had your reasons. I’m sure it still doesn’t feel good to kill someone.” She reached out and squeezed the younger woman’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna pry, but it sounded important. Trust me: Poppy will be fine unless something big changes, and I’ll be keeping an eye on her. You can join me, but I need to know why you’d tell me that. It sounded really important.”

Akaia looked at Poppy and then at her hand, staring at the red for a moment before turning back to Lysandra. As she opened her mouth to speak, her lips began to form the edges of a word but before she could speak it, the shape changed as if she was fighting with herself. “Pa-pee will be fine.” She repeated in her own voice. “Promise.” Although stated, it was delivered as if it were a question or a challenge, the answer to which she waited on bated breath.

Lys scowled. She hated being put on the spot. There were so many variables, and now Akaia was dangling her cooperation out there as reward for a promise that no responsible medical practitioner would ever make. Nothing was an absolute but, to the best of Lysandra’s knowledge, Poppy would, indeed, be okay unless outside circumstances intervened. When will you people learn to stop asking me for answers? “I promise that she will be okay as long as she is kept safe and protected.” Lys sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the back of a hand. The air was scratchy. “Now we have to get moving and I need to know why you’d say something like that. If someone or something out there is trying to kill us or knows about a danger, we all need to know: not just me.”

“It’s not anything to worry about.” Erik butted in, his tone oddly stern towards both Lys and Akaia. “Akaia, Pops will be fine, okay? Lys has her.” Erik closed the distance between he and Akaia, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I promise." He gave Akaia a slight squeeze before giving Poppy one more glance.

“With Poppy staying with the Rear Team, I’ll need you all on your toes.” ‘On your toes,’ Lys snorted inwardly. Cerise, Akaia, and I will ensure you’re informed of the threat ahead. That or we’ll take them out if we feel it’s easier. Remember, it’s not about killing every Lost we see. It’s about getting in and getting out.” His eyes then peered down at the medical supplies on the ground. With a crouch, he scooped them up. They wouldn’t be very effective but Erik decided to pocket them anyway. It was just the way he was. Finding use in the lowliest of junk.

“Uhhhh, Erik?” Lys prodded.

“Hm? What? What did I forget this time?” His eyes were wide and attentive.

“So, all concerns about pretty much every bit of good medical practice aside, you uh…might not want to put a scalpel in your pocket.” There was a brief pause as Erik just awkwardly stared at Lys for a moment his eyebrows perked up.

“Crap!” He quickly dug into his pocket, which was a frightening sight and fortunately removed the scalpel with that bright smile of his. “Thanks, Lys!”

Lysandra put on her winningest smile. “Anytime gramps. Gotta save the senile from themselves.” She winked as she put hands to wheels and started moving, bending over briefly to pick a stray pill bottle up and toss it onto her lap. It was all an act, of course. Akaia had said something important: literally about a person or thing that could kill them, and Lys struggled to think of anything more worth worrying about than that. Yet, when she’d inquired, she’d pretty much been told to sit down, shut up, and ask no questions as if she were some petulant child. The first was no issue; it was every day of her life. The second was harder, for it went against her nature. The third was impossible if she were to do her job as the Commune’s head (and only) researcher. The old guard were keeping secrets from her, plain and simple. She wasn’t trusted at that level, clear as a ray of sun. There might've been confounding variables, but she wasn't even privy to those, and that, in particular, stunk. Lys hadn't made any more of it mostly for the sake of group harmony during a dangerous mission and because Erik, for all that he claimed not to be in charge, very much was. There was simply no winning play. Moments like this were why she’d been a lone operator for the first twenty-eight years of her life and why the four since had sucked. She rolled along in silence, glancing back at Poppy with a slight twinge of worry and at Erik and Akaia with well-hidden resentment.

---

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---

Place(s): Ruined City - Outskirts
Time: Feb 23rd, 2057 - 11th Hour
Interaction(s): None; all alone watching the despondent ruins and her precious comrades below

---

The battle had ended in victory for the members of the Commune. It was to be expected, and yet at the same time there had been casualties in form of several wounded members. It worried Cerise. Each single wound that had befallen her comrades meant one more wound that she could have prevented. It was literally the duty that she had imposed upon herself; to watch out for and protect her comrades with her rifle by taking out all targets that threatens them. "Haaa..." She sighed, shaking her head a little and feeling guilt over what she perceived as her own failures. On the bright side, the wounded members were already receiving treatments and none seemed to be in grave danger. Still... I could have done more...

Poppy in particular looked quite hurt. If only Cerise had been just a little bit faster in taking care of that chain wielding Infernal that had wrenched her out of the sky and slammed her hard down to the car.

Cerise then shook her head more, lightly slapping her left cheek with her own left hand as if the act will help her get out of her melancholic thoughts. Then, she stood up, still above the faded billboard on top of the tall ruined building. I can sulk later once we're back home. Now, I still have a job to do... And thus, oblivious to both the sparks of conflicts and the strengthening bonds between some of the other members of the Commune, Cerise watched over them from above. The least she can do was to make sure that no hostile entity will sneak through and endanger her comrades while they prepared to move on, focusing her attention entirely on securing the perimeter with her trusty Lariat in her hands.

INNER CITY

---

The environment changed from wide broken streets and towering buildings, to narrow lanes and remnants of different establishments all huddled close together. It became more difficult to navigate and straight pathways became scarce. There seemed to be endless winding paths often leading into dead ends. It was only a matter of time before the layout of the inner city made it challenging for the Commune to move around effectively. The group continued on, moving slowly as the scouts were sent ahead to confirm throughways and dead ends. Their selected route showed promise until they came upon a blockade created by a toppled building. In the place of their planned route was now a fork with two narrow paths.

Sticking together would only waste time and leave the Commune vulnerable to ambush. To make sure that wouldn’t happen the decision was made to split up. Two paths, two groups.

It had taken time, but the Commune put their heads together and eventually decided on the division of their group. Lysandra’s drones, Akaia’s crow and Poppy herself were responsible for communication between the groups. Their wings allowed them to quickly cover the distance between groups and exchange findings.

Their goal was to locate the mistle, procure samples while minimizing contact with the Lost. If after two hours there were no productive developments, the two groups would rendezvous back at the fork and return to base.

---

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---

The last three hours had gotten progressively tougher and, without Iron Horse, Lys had fallen behind repeatedly and outright needed help over a handful of obstacles. Her arms and shoulders ached with exertion and there were a couple of blisters forming on her hands despite the gloves. Coming on this mission had been a mistake but she was here now and would have to do her best not to be a further detriment to the group. They had split up a few minutes ago into two teams, and it was as if Lysandra had been strategically separated from Akaia. Who mentioned a potentially deadly threat, she thought bitterly, that I'm not allowed to ask questions about. Much as she tried to let it go, it stuck in her craw. It had been over two years and she'd thought that she knew these people, that there was trust between them, and that they valued her as someone who could problem-solve, but that episode had put the lie to it. She wasn't sure why it had stung so much, but it had. And, most importantly, who knew how the information could be relevant? What if there was some angle they weren't seeing? What if they thought they had it all figured out but didn't? She could help. She could!

The afternoon sun passed in and out of view behind the great dead hulks of collapsed buildings, rays the colour of beaten straw shimmering diffusely through a hazy curtain of clouds and miasma. Lys blinked and, presently, paused to reach into her backpack and slip a pair of sunglasses over her eyes. Poppy was doing better and she had Iron Horse back, at least, though it was low on batteries. That meant fewer spares for Sage and Princess, which meant less searching for the mistle with them. The group of four that she was part of had formed something like a kite shape that swirled and twisted as the terrain forced it. When her eyes weren't drawn by necessity to the ground immediately in front of her, Lys watched Cerise in the lead, darting and scrambling for vantage points. She took in the revenant's footholds and route choices. Most were the ones she would've made but, every once in a while, Cerise defied expectation, making some athletic leap or spiderlike climb that Lysandra never could've managed as a human.

The revenant was bothered, Lys could tell. That's how she was: when people got hurt or - god forbid - killed, she drew into herself, worried and self-flagellating. Had Lysandra been able to catch up to her, she'd have tried to have words, but that wasn't going to happen, and it occurred to her that Cerise probably also knew about whatever it was that Erik wanted to hide. Momentarily, her stomach tightened, but she continued wheeling along, eyes searching the murky darkness behind every empty storefront, reeling in the nebulous shadows of every blind corner, and sparing the odd glimpse at the rest of the team. The sun disappeared once more behind a broken concrete leviathan and Lysandra had to pop a wheelie and engage Iron Horse to make it over a fallen telephone pole. Her eyes went back to Cerise, just as she was cresting the top of a stack of debris. The revenant froze in place for a second and a cold, electric pulse shot through Lysandra’s arteries. “More Lost!?” she called, heart beating a little faster, hands ready to reach for the controller on her lap.

Cerise wished that this had been yet another of the solo scavenging or scouting missions that she often went on. That made it really easy for her to deliberately ignore certain things that she’d rather not find at all, and then she wouldn’t have needed to lie about it; she hated having to lie. This time, with three other members of the Commune with her, it made things far less easy. She stared at the thing that had made her freeze, for a moment not even responding to Lysandra’s words. It lay on the ground not too far in front of her, a red crystal that most Revenants including Cerise knew all too well. And this time, it was glowing.

“Cherry Darling: you alright!?” Lys called out, starting to feel a different kind of unease. “It’s not Lost, is it?” There was a bit of a straightaway ahead and she pushed a bit faster to catch up.

Lysandra calling out to her again made Cerise flinch, pulling her out of her shock at finding the Vestige. She quickly turned around, an awkward looking smile on her face. “Oh no, it’s nothing. Sorry, I just spaced out for a moment there, ahaha… A-anyways yes, everything’s fine!” Then she deliberately circled around to the left as she proceeded further forward, hoping that the others would follow her route and thus keeping the vestige hidden.

Geez, hun, Lys thought. No wonder you don’t lie much. You suck at it. She forced the suspicion from her voice. “You sure?”

“Absolutely!” Cerise called out while turning around again, her right hand making the thumbs up gesture at Lysandra. “Now let’s keep going, yes? We don’t have much time and all that. I’ll stay in the front!” Thus she turned around again and continued onward in a hurry; something that the usually very careful scout would normally never do. Even more so because Akaia had told her to be extra careful beforehand because she didn't want anything to happen to Cerise too after what had happened to Poppy. Please follow me and don’t look at that. Please follow me and don’t look at that. Please follow me and don’t look at that.

Of course, Lysandra Tran, being who she was, found herself damned-near pathologically incapable of leaving well enough alone. Maybe it was the scout or the scientist within her, but she let herself deviate from Cerise’s chosen path. In any event, the bizarre new route was… less than wheelchair accessible. As she went, she kept her eyes peeled. Surreptitiously, she peered in the direction of where Cerise had glanced when she’d frozen, but was unable to see anything. Mind you, Lys was also unable to climb up that debris stack like her friend had been. In one smooth motion, she unclipped Sage from where he hung on the back of her knapsack and tossed him into the air. Almost ghostly quiet, his rotors hummed to life. “Horsie, push, terrain following.” Lys commanded softly, trading her sunglasses for the headset. Let’s see just what scared the bejeezus out of you, she thought.

Marsh Sage rose into the air, his cameras scanning the surrounding area. Within seconds, behind a few collapsed pillars in a ruined office's atrium, it spotted a reddish glow. Its cameras zoomed in. A vestige, Lys knew immediately. Why would you avoid a vestige? We’re supposed to scoop those up. Unless… She made a mental note of its location. It was sheltered from view unless one had a high vantage point, and there was a semi-accessible route there. Lys called Sage back, plucked him out of the air, and flipped her headset up. “Hey people,” she chirped. “Super sorry, but I uh… have to take a pee.” She checked her watch. It was actually time for that. When you couldn’t feel your bladder, you had to do it on a schedule. Lysandra gestured towards the half-collapsed atrium where the vestige was and started wheeling. “I’ll be right over there. I’ll be quick,” she promised. “Sorry again!”

With that declaration, Ajax paused in his path. His eyes flashed between each of the women in the group briefly, as he’d simply kept quiet up until this point. Something here was clearly off. “Hang back for a second, Cerise.” The Sword called up ahead to the girl, clearly rushing away from something. He had a hunch as to what it could be, as not many things rattled the bright and cheery revenant. Not even missions themselves. His attention shifted more directly to Lysandra. “Make it quicker than you think. We’re already late.”

Oh no… Cerise gulped and stopped as Ajax called out to her. She should have known better than to try to hide her unease from him, but then again she didn’t exactly have the time to think it through. She turned around again, looking at Ajax. That made her also note where Lysandra intended to go to for her bladder need, in turn making Cerise realize that even Lysandra was on to her. Uh-oh… She couldn’t even maintain her smile anymore, expression very clearly looking worried. “U-umm… We really should…” She stopped herself, sighing, realizing that there was no use trying to keep things hidden anymore. They were simply already on to her.

Lysandra decoupled from Iron Horse and rolled over to the atrium with an eager, morbid sort of anticipation. She damned near wrenched her shoulder going over a broken step, but then she was inside. Bluish-green marble dominated and the shards of a broken skylight sparkled in the dim golden rays that streamed through it. A scraggly green bush grew up in the middle, surrounded by debris and a pile of dirty, half-melted snow. The shining reddish crystal glowed in an unnatural juxtaposition against its surroundings. Lys chose a path carefully and made haste for it, eyes casting about warily for any Lost. This is yours, Cherry Darling, she thought. She wasn’t sure why the revenant wouldn’t want it, but there was probably a good reason. Lys could understand having pain in one’s past. Still, she thought, I think we should keep it in case things ever do change. Sometimes we need to feel that pain to move past it. In any event, Lys shoved it into one of her backpack’s pockets for safekeeping, found a good spot, and reached into another pocket for some tissue and her catheter. Cripple perks: pee like a guy. A minute and a half later, fresh and smiling, even humming a bit, she emerged from the ruined atrium. “Sorry, all! We’re good!” Her cheeks flushed a little. “I won’t hold everyone up again.”

Cerise watched as Lysandra disappeared from view for about two short minutes before reappearing again, fresh and smiling. She weirdly didn’t bring up the vestige, even though she definitely must have seen it. “Umm…. Lysandra, did you-...” Cerise wanted to ask, to make sure. But then she stopped again, hesitating. She ended up just standing in place, looking at Lysandra, and then at Ajax, and then at Lysandra again, unsure of what to do.

Lys looked at Cerise and glanced at Ajax too. She shrugged matter-of-factly. “Yes, I saw a vestige in there,” she admitted, “and I’m guessing it was yours.” She scratched awkwardly at the back of her head, where the strap from her headset often made it itchy. “I’d never try to tell you what to do with your life, Cherry Pie. I know the past can hurt.” She let her hand fall away. “So your secret back there? Don’t worry. It’s safe with me.” She put hands to wheels, ready to move again.

Ajax studied Wheels, and if only briefly did a glare of suspicion flare in his brows. It was instinctive, protective of Red, even though nothing seemed to directly threaten her. Lysandra’s words, specific as they were chosen, eased whatever tension that he felt rising within. Thus, playing along, he started forward again but stopped at Cerise. A gloved hand fell on the thin girl’s shoulder, gripping gently. Despite his own view of vestiges, there was a form of understanding in his eyes. Regardless, the moment didn’t last long, and Ajax started again; this time taking the lead.

“Let’s move. I get the feeling we’re close.”

Cerise remained quiet as Lysandra spoke. With each of Lysandra’s sentences, Cerise’s mood seemed to take a dip. Even after Lysandra’s assurance that she wouldn’t pry, Cerise’s shoulders were visibly slumped with her head looking down at the ground. She tried to sort out her own feelings and the jumbled up thoughts in her mind, not exactly succeeding at it. Well… I wish you hadn’t gone there and taken a look at it in the first place… She only glanced up again when she felt Ajax’s gloved hand gripping her shoulder gently, not even noticing that he had moved and stopped near her. Regardless, that simple gesture did the work of making Cerise feel just a little bit better. That he didn’t say anything was also something that Cerise appreciated.

Cerise stayed silent and stood in place for a few brief seconds more before sighing softly. Then she looked at Lysandra again, speaking up. “... Alright. Umm… Thanks…” Just like that, she turned around and proceeded onward again, now moving behind Ajax.

Of course, that put Lysandra out on one of the ‘wings’ of their formation, which wasn’t exactly a place she could always be. In practice, as the sun dipped lower in the sky and shadows started to lengthen, she drifted in toward Cerise, guts twisting with anxiety. Way to go, Lys. You just ripped the wings off a butterfly. On a particularly flat stretch, she let Iron Horse take over and whipped out her notepad. On it, she drew a big heart and started writing:


She attached this to the clip on the bottom of Sage and had him buzz up in front of Cerise until she couldn’t ignore him.

Hmm? Noticing Sage buzzing in front of her with a note clipped on his bottom, Cerise looked in Lysandra’s direction briefly, a puzzled expression on her face. She quickly turned around again though, and took the note from Sage to read as she walked. Oh… I see. She kept looking at the note for a few seconds more even after she was done reading it. It didn’t take her much to understand that Lysandra must have felt guilty about prying. She muffled a giggle as her mood started to swing back up again. She wasn’t exactly mad at Lysandra, but even if she had been, she wouldn’t have been able to continue being mad after reading that.

Thus she turned around again, and once she was sure that she had the other woman's attention, she smiled warmly and mouthed a ‘thank-you’ at Lysandra. Then she turned around once more, now with her steps having that particular spring and cheerfulness typical of her.

Lys made a little heart with her hands and felt a bit of spring returning to her figurative step as well. Perhaps there was a lesson to be learned here: if you lived with people, you lived with their secrets too, and you had to accept that. Just because they didn’t let you all of the way in all of the time didn’t mean that they didn’t like you or trust you. She let out a deep breath and kept moving. Surely, it couldn’t be much further now.

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Location: Ruined City inner city
Interactions: Erik

---

The air was colder, with the sun having passed its highest point. Goosebumps spread across her exposed shoulders. She looked down at the group below, to Dalas. He needed her shawl more than she did right now. She shook off the cold and flapped her wings a bit faster, trying to get warm that way. Being up in the air by herself helped her clear her mind. Poppy breathed in and out slowly. The events of a few hours ago replayed in her minds eye.

She failed to spot the infernal, it was a mistake. Dwelling on it was not going to help. It was more useful to focus on the here and now. They managed to pull through. There was something that still bothered her however. Akaia's reaction was predictable. The Sidhe cared intensely about her, maybe too much. It unsettled Poppy, more than she let on. While in mid-flight the fairy crossed paths with the animal familiar of the Sidhe in question. She looked at Licorice, its beady eyes stared back at her.

"How can I make her stop?"

Her involvement with the Commune was temporary, it always had been, right from the very start. Even after many years Poppy was still chasing after her old life. Her life with him. Caring about someone else felt like she was giving up. Sometimes it was lonely, painful even. The heaviness of melancholy was slowly creeping up on her. Airborne solitude would only make the gloom stick to her like the miasma.

Poppy knew where to go with this. There was something, or rather someone, who surprisingly managed to chase off her gloom on occasion. She went down between the buildings, hovering in place next to Erik.

"I suggest we turn left after we cross through this street. The others are going into the opposite direction. We'll cover more ground that way"

_{Interactions: Team VCAL}

---

Vincent walked along with his group, his fingers laced behind his head as he followed behind Cerise and ahead of Lysandra. Thanks to Poppy's care and the blood pack he was given, which now hung empty from his mouth, his arm was mostly healed. It still ached and he was sure the bones were still cracked, at the very least, but he was at the point where he was comfortable fighting with both arms, if he needed to. He would just have to remember not to hit so hard with his left as he would with his right, though even he was aware of how likely he was to remember that.

Though he seemed at ease, Vincent's senses were on high alert for danger. His eyes scanned the empty windows and doorways of the abandoned buildings flanking his group, his ears strained for the slightest out of place sound. He was on the lookout for the slightest whiff of trouble -- literally. He was well aware of the injuries he and his comrades sustained during their last fight and resolved himself to take more of the burden of the next fight on himself. Can't believe I spent most of that fight trying to take out one of those bastards, he thought. I'm gonna do better next time. I have to.

He pulled himself out of those thoughts and spat out the empty blood pack. He dropped his arms to his sides and asked his group, "So, anyone got any idea how much longer it'll be till we get there? I've been wanting to take a crack at the kitchen back home."

---

Dallas shrugged in reply to Erik's comments. "It's not like I've forgotten my whole life. I just don't remember my family. If they're alive out there then they'll recognize me even if I don't remember them. If they're dead then... I guess it's better to forget." He finished off a blood pack and tossed it to the side. Dallas was not as fast of a healer as the other revenants in the group. His arm would probably be done healing by the time the party reached the mistle.

Dallas was marching just ahead of Erik. Although he was a bit anxious about giving up the rear watch, he knew better than to question Erik's decision. The boss's fighting style made him more suited to the role from a tactical point of view. Desmond and himself were holding the center of the formation. Desmond was the designated marksman. Akaia and Poppy had an eye on things from the air. It was a very safe arrangement. All Dallas had to do was chop up anything that got to close to the others.

Karaoke huh? Didn't the microphone go missing after Desmond's welcoming party a couple weeks ago? Dallas briefly recalled a few of his team mates trying to dodge the microphone. Someone might have hidden it. Dallas thought the Commune's taste in music was... interesting. Especially Lysandra's. What the heck is synthwave anyways?

Dallas was so busy watching out for Lost and reminiscing about that party that he accidentally tripped on a pebble again.

Desmond Mores

---

Desmond listened quietly to what the others said and replied to Erik's questions."I would be okay with telling some stories and some about Amelia. Something relaxing to unwind with, right?" Amelia, it feels kinda weird to him to talk about Amelia given her state. Since it would be stories that would be better that she was there for. Taking part in the laughs, joy, excitement, suspense of sharing their memories. Like she was not in a deep sleep that who knows when she will wake up. Still, in a way, it would be like introducing her to the group before she wakes up.

Looking around and he just spotted Dallas tossing away a blood pack, and it made Desmond think. What will Amelia be like as a revenant, her same old self or something else, since losing one's memories is par of the course from what he was told. Still, would she remember him? Their family? Their friends and live at their home? If she did not remember him or their family, then..... No, not now. Desmond did his best to bury the thought in his mind. This is not the time for this kind of thinking. He needs to be alert for Lost and not worry about that. They already faced and had some injuries from their first brush with Lost. They can not afford more in his mind.

So he went back to staying alert and wondering if they will find this mistle before they have to turn back and return to base. Still, he was in a talkative mood and replied more to the group. "Karaoke, that was a.... fun welcoming night, and that would be nice to do that again." Kinda fun to him, ignoring how bad his singing was. It was more fun just watching and listening to people sing and stuff. Granted, some of the music was... different than what he was raised with. Either way, when Amelia wakes up, it would be nice to have a karaoke night since she would love that. If they can find that microphone, that is.

So he went back to being on alert and scanning the landscape for any sign of Lost. They will not get close if he has any say about it, as he carried his rifle in his hands. Not noticing that Dallas tripped on a pebble and continued moving forward.

---

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There'd been banter - uneasy smalltalk to distract them all from their slowly deteriorating margins for error - as they continued on through the ruined city. Shadows pooled, deep and cold in alleys and alcoves and the sun shimmered, fat and orange, as it dipped below the tops of even midsized buildings. They were going to be caught out at night.

Lys had just finished replacing Princess' batteries and sending her back into the field, when she noticed Ajax's body language shift ever so slightly, like the human - or revenant - equivalent of a dog stiffening its stride and pricking its ears up. She shot a pair of quizzical eyes in his direction, but then it was her turn to prickle in warning. Princess' sensors were beeping. "Someone spot for me," she called out, "Princess has something. Horsie," she added, "push: terrain-following." Iron Horse was low on batteries, but should have enough left for that. Lysandra pushed the visor down and she was Sky Princess, peering at the world from fifty feet above ground through a fisheye lens. Licorice was swooping toward a house where Akaia must've been, and he let out an urgent screech presently, but he wasn't what had set off the sensors.

The drone had flagged movement - massive movement - and turned its camera that way. The solid brick wall of a townhouse rippled and collapsed in a shower of bricks and a billowing cloud of reddish dust that buffeted the surrounding area. Sky Princess was sent reeling, rotors straining to recover and, when she did, Lys pointed her back in that direction. From the dust and debris rose a towering hulk of translucent silvery-white flesh, fifty feet tall and weeping milky grey pus out of a dozen faintly glowing red orifices that had to be... eyes of some sort. Dozens of tendrils, many thicker than a grown man's body, whipped and lashed, battering walls and smashing windows. The beast stood there for a moment, swaying gently. Then, it reared up to its full height and threw its head back. A cavernous black maw opened and opened wider still, revealing thousands of small, black, razor-sharp teeth. The behemoth bellowed. Nearly half a kilometer away, Lys could feel the bloodcurdling sound as it reverberated through the air and her insides alike. The creature lurched forward with unsettling speed and hurtled toward the group of Erik, Dallas, Poppy, and Desmond, laying waste to everything in its path. A Tsar Bomba! Her blood went cold and spiky within her arteries and, for a moment, she could feel every bit of it.

"What the fuck was that!?" one of her group members shouted. Lysandra pressed the 'evasive' button on Princess' controller and tore her headset off. "It's a fucking Tsar Bomba!" she screamed. She hadn't seen one in years. The last time, she'd had legs, and she'd used them to run, but it wasn't for herself that Lys' blood froze. Akaia had entered a house right in that thing's path and hadn't emerged yet. "We need to stop it or they're all gonna die! Akaia's right in its path, in that house!" She flipped her visor down and sent Princess higher up, outside of the monster's reach. Her rockets would barely make a dent against a threat of that size and magnitude, but she could target the sensitive spots, like the 'eyes' and mouth, as well as any tentacles that tried to pick off her allies while they closed the range. That would have to be enough.

---

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Mentions: Akaia @Exit

---

"Leave Akaia to me. Keep the Lost out of the house!" Dallas planted his axe into a crack in the asphalt so that it stood straight up. He removed the shawl he borrowed from Poppy and tied it underneath the axe head. His weapon would be too bulky for indoor combat, and Dallas didn't want to ruin the garment that had been lent to him. His left arm was a little numb, but the pain was completely gone. As long as he didn't fall on it again, Dallas was in good shape.

Stepping over overgrown weeds and brambles, Dallas quickly infiltrated the dwelling.

---

The building looked like an absolute mess, but Dallas didn't have much time to think about a house that was in disrepair. He could hear dust and broken glass scratching against the floor as well as Akaia's muffled screams. The numerous holes in the walls caused the indoor acoustics to become irregular, and the stench of rotting wood made it hard to follow scents, but the size of the house was small. Dallas would need less than a minute to find her.

A black ball of feathers dove through a hole in the roof and darted into Dallas's chest. He was momentarily blinded as Licorice beat him in the face with its wings. The crow was making all sorts of noises, from clicks and squawks to the occasional cry of "Aka! Aka!" Dallas managed to wave the bird away, and then Licorice flew deeper into the house. He followed the pet crow without hesitating. The intelligent bird knew what it was doing. It wanted his help, which meant that Akaia was in danger as of this very moment.

The unusual pair cleared the house in seconds. In the remains of the living room, Akaia was under attack. She had been hoisted into the air by two thralls, rendering her unable to fight back. One had her by the head and was covering her mouth and nose. Unable to release her spores, the helpless sidhe could only scream and claw at the thrall's hands. The other creature was violently pulling at her flailing legs, seemingly trying to rip her limbs off. Before Dallas could do anything, Licorice rushed in and assaulted the thrall that was grabbing Akaia's head. With beak and talon, the crow tore at the thrall's eyes. It groaned in pain and released its hold on Akaia, causing her upper half to painfully fall to the floor.

Dallas didn't waste a single moment. He was on the second enemy like white on rice. He dove in and gripped the thrall's neck in a rear naked choke. Dallas felt sharp nails scrape against his arms, but the thick insulation of his fireproof jacket made the thrall's struggle futile. Dallas squeezed his arms around the beast's neck as hard as he could. Rather than try and suffocate it, he grabbed it by the head with one hand and pulled back. Its neck snapped like a chicken bone. The thrall's whole body went limp, allowing Akaia to free herself from its grasp. Dallas unceremoniously dumped the corpse to the side.

Licorice had backed the first thrall into a wall. Whenever it tried to grab the crow, Licorice evaded before going back in for another attack. The undead creature's face was covered in bloody strips of shredded skin, and both eyes had been turned into goop. Dallas charged in and wrestled the thrall to the ground. It blindly struck at him, but he swiftly pinned its arms down. Dallas smashed his forehead into the thrall's face, stunning it. Then, he began pounding. One blow after another, Dallas hammered his fists into the enemy's face. His eyes started glowing as he exceeded his normal strength, and soon the thrall's head was nothing more than an unidentifiable mass of flesh and broken bone.

After taking a few breaths, Dallas managed to calm himself down and climb off of the now dead thrall. With the immediate threat taken care of, he could finally spare a thought for Akaia's well being. After shaking the blood off his hands, he looked back in Akaia's direction. She was making a shaky recovery from her sudden fall. Pieces of debris were stuck in her clothes, and Dallas hoped nothing had punctured her skin. Licorice flew down and landed next to Akaia, lightly tugging at her clothes with its beak.

Dallas took a few step towards Akaia and rested his knee on the floor so they could see each other eye to eye. "Hey, are you hurt anywhere?"

_{Interactions: Team VCAL}

---

"A Tsar whata?!" Vincent yelled back, then felt the air tremble as the creature let out a roar. He felt a thrill of...something run through him. It wasn't fear or even excitement, exactly. No matter what the monster was, he wasn't about to back down from a fight...but he also understood that whatever could make that kind of noise wasn't something to be taken lightly. [color=orange]First thing's first, make sure the others are okay, he thought. Worry about whatever Lys mentioned after!

He took a deep breath in...then out. Red and orange energy enveloped his arms and shoulders, growing more vibrant with every passing moment. Based off of the crow's cry, he took his best guess and turned to face the wall of a nearby building. "Alright! I'll clear a path to the others!" He ran toward the wall and crossed his arms in front of his head. With a loud crash, he broke through the wall as if it were wet paper and continued to sprint forward, letting nothing stop him.

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The thrall dropped from the second story window, its eyes locked on the group ahead of it. It took a step forward, but stopped when it heard something crash behind it. When it turned, it had just enough time to register a closed fist hurtling toward its face before the thrall's world went black. Vincent stood over the dissolving remains of the thrall and let out a breath before he focused his attention on the other half of his comrades. He saw Dallas rush into a building and, assuming that they had things handled on their end, he turned his attention toward the sound of crumbling buildings. When he saw the mass of silvery flesh, he felt a strange mix of trepidation and excitement rush through his body. "Oh. So that's what's making all that racket."

As he walked toward it, he walked past a collapsed wall and took hold of a piece of a rebar that stuck out. He pulled it free, revealing a large chunk of concrete still attached to the end, and let the makeshift hammer rest on his shoulder. "I'm gonna go take out the Charred Wombat or whatever! You all can join me when you can, but don't get upset if I kill it before you get a chance!" With that, he brandished his improvised weapon in both hands and broke out into a sprint straight for the Tsar Bomba.

Desmond Mores

---

Desmond was looking away when Akaia went to the building and disappeared. Hearing the loud clang of her staff hitting something and the crumbling of infrastructure. Then the sound of what sounded like a bird, Licorice crying. Desmond's eyes snapped to attention as Erik gave orders for Dallas and Desmond. "Roger that" was all he said with his rifle already in hand. He moved to a better position near the building and scanned the landscape for targets.

And sure enough that a few lost that showed up, and Desmond took careful aim at the closest one. Bang, the shot fired, and he scored a hit a killing blow on that Lost. Then moving to the next one, he could see and fired again and scored another hit and a dead Lost. But, as he was about to fire another shot at the third Lost. A bellowing roar out of nowhere sounded out. Caught off guard by the sound "What in god's name is that?"His voice barely hiding his fear. His instincts told him that he should get out of there and not face whatever made that sound.

But, there is still the matter of Akaia and the others still in the building. So against his instincts, Desmond stayed where he was and continued to fire at the incoming Lost, which there were only a few left. Yelling at the others as he fired. "Get Akaia out of there, and we need to get the hell out of dodge now! Before whatever made that roar shows up."