Ernie watched Catβs Cradleβs intervention through the pilfered binoculars around his neck, utterly horrified by the implications of their sudden appearance. But obliteration didnβt follow. The skylight was gone within a few efficient moments, their escape was completely unhindered by the efforts of the Precursor and D.C. military. The civilians continued screaming nonetheless and honestly, he couldnβt even blame them. He was sure that same single word was running through their minds too.
There was so much panic in the air, screams pounding his ears harder than any gunshot could. He doubted that heβd ever witness such raw, collective fear in his life ever again, even if he managed to live through this nightmare. Such reckless, unleashed emotion. A catastrophe that showcased the true filth of humankind as loved ones and wounded were abandoned and trampled. It shouldβve been the most Stigma-empowering thing heβd ever basked in. It wouldβve, if his comradesβ lives werenβt directly on the line because of this.
He didnβt have a clear view of the group from his perch so he needed to make do with the map on the communicator. A worried click of the tongue followed as he looked at the various groups on the map. Zoe was still determined to get that slime, even if it meant dragging Brent and others down with her. The Evacuation Team were in the quagmire of screaming Regulars. He knew what high-running emotions could do. They needed to get out of there. And the Strike Teamβ¦
The buzzcut Aberration paled as Hazelβs attack connected with Cal. He ducked down behind the barrier surrounding the rooftop, breaths going wild. Oh fuck. Everything was going too wrong, too fast.
His hands scrambled for the 'Transmit All' command. βEveryone, stay in your teams and get the fuck away from the Regulars. Rooftops, side-alleys, anywhere you can avoid them. Catβs Cradle are here and people are going fucking mental. Lily, donβt leave the Evac Group. Slime Teamβs just gonna have to deal with the consequences of their dumbass plan by themselves.β
An ominous rumble in the vicinity. A deathmatch between the Strike Team was the last thing they needed.
βHazelβs gone psycho again. Sander and Cal might have it under control butβ¦β A harsh breath. βStay away from the north-east.β
His transmission ended there but he continued keeping an eye on the map. In the meantime, the Aberration snuck a peek over the edge of the roof. Such caution was probably unnecessary. Here on this rooftop, unseen by all the biggest threats in the city, he was probably in the safest position he could get.
Just like Wisford. This is what you wanted, right?
Brent's words had been received loud and clear but Ernie couldn't manage a response. Partly because he knew better than to make empty promises to someone he respected. Partly because of the emotional turmoil still churning within him.
But mostly because of the paralysing vertigo that had suddenly seized him as Sander took flight.
Ernie's stomach seemed to do corkscrew maneuvers as the ground zoomed away and was replaced by building tops instead. His terrified whimpers could be heard even over the screeching winds, arms and legs tightened their knuckle-white embrace around the brunette. Ernie decided that it would be better to take this deathride with his eyes closed and just wait for the nightmare to end.
"S-so what's--nngh!" the Aberration attempted to stammer out a question but was cut off by a brief landing that shook his bones and made the assault rifle rattle painfully against his spine, "What's your plan here?"
"I fight." -Sander answered curtly, taking only a fraction of a second to recover from the landing before continuing his breakneck sprint across the desolated rooftops. -"You...should stay near." -He added after a bit, though his tone made the suggestion sounded more like a demand.
Another jump. Another half-hissed scream from the buzzcut boy as he struggled to hold on, grasping the fabric of his shirt sleeves with everything he had. He could probably survive from this height if he summoned his rope. Didn't make it any less freaking scary though.
"Why me?" Ernie had to yell over the wind, "How am I even gonna help you?"
"I...watch you." -Another curt answer that didn't really answer anything.
Sander probably couldn't see the angry frown growing on Ernie's face right now. "You think I'll do something bad if you don't babysit me?"
The blood mage didn't answer that. Instead, he just took a sharp turn and leapt off another rooftop, dashing toward the looming figure of the ice giant in the distance.
After a few seconds though, Sander asked, voice almost pensive -"Will you?"
Inertia almost flung Ernie off to the side as Sander made the turn. He shuddered and readjusted his grip while he thought the question over.
"I'm...doing better," he said carefully, perhaps even genuinely. He thought to his interactions with Emma, to the blurred rage he could vaguely recall from Saturday night. Not really answers he could give, "I won't. You're here, after all."
"You hit me on a head with a pitcher." -Despite the accusation, Sander's tone remained flat.
"Wait, what?" Ernie opened his eyes in surprise, immediately regretting the decision. They scrunched back close, "What?"
There wasn't much he recalled from that night. Fruity shots. Dancing. A walk back with some Asian man. Sander. Anger. The last two rarely came without the other. But there was something else too. Pain, in his hand and on his lip. He'd woken with a glove practically knitted from bandaids from his own kit. Was that because...oh god. It was coming back to him.
Ernie couldn't manage anything besides another "what".
The other Aberration seemed confused, so Sander let him take his time, remaining silent as he focused on the path ahead.
Pieces of the night put themselves together. Something swung. Something banged. God, how much did he have that night? As much as he absolutely hated the guy, attacking him, starting a fight between subnaturals in a public area, in D.C. of all places, in front of his friends...
No wonder Sander wanted to kill him.
Ernie groaned loudly. "Shit, that was really stupid. I'm...man, I'm sorry. I don't usually get that drunk."
"I'm fine." -Sander said dismissively, shoulders raised in a shrug -"I can take it."
"Doesn't mean you should have to. Not from an idiot like me, or anyone else. Aren't you angry?"
"Should I?"
"Uh. Only if you want to, I guess," Ernie sighed. He'd never understand this guy, "Getting angry's never really helped me."
Such a weird conversation. Were these really going to be among his last words? Ernie's hug-grip tightened involuntarily.
"I wouldn't blame you if you were."
"Huh?" -Something akin to surprise lifted Sander's brows -"Why?"
It was Ernie's turn to shrug. "Bad people deserve badness, I guess? Anger is badness. And anger's what naturally comes from getting hurt. You already hate me to actual death so getting pissed over a stupid bar fight won't change much."
"I don't...hate you." -Sander felt his lips curled briefly into a smirk, like Ernie was saying the most ridiculous thing in the world.
Ernie didn't believe him for a second. His expression knit into something resembling irritation. "Didn't you say you'd kill me?"
"I said I don't want to."
"Hah. I don't believe you. Man, do you even believe that?"
Sander's response was another shrug -"Doesn't matter if you don't believe me."
Ernie tilted his head to Sander's face, feeling the nonchalant shrug in his arms. Annoying. Chatter over the cuffs alerted the Aberration to Zoe's incoming stupidity. More annoying. Hopefully Brent would get the bitch under control again. Still, talking strategy was something he needed to consider too. "Whatever. Alright, subject change. How are you gonna take that ice giant down? Any weak points you plan on hitting?"
"I'm not sure." -The blood mage admitted, eyeing the monster in the distance.
This was their class' strongest hope? Ernie suppressed a sigh. "Take out the legs first. Stop it from destroying any more of the city or reaching the river. Then do whatever you want. Understand?"
Sander didn't really respond. He looked up at the glowing orb in the sky instead. It was a bit too far away, but Brent did mention that it needed...burning? Was it a weak spot?
His mind went back to Factory fight and he remembered the twisted body within the metal sphere. Was this the same? A human, barely, within the monster?
How did that work, exactly? Sander decided that he didn't really care.
"What's up there? In the floating...thing?" -He gestured toward the orb and licked his lips, asking as if Ernie knew the answer.
"It's the weird light that was fixing up the giant with some ice beam. Got hit with a bright-ass lazer so I think it's out of commission for a bit. I wouldn't worry about that right now, Chris is gonna fly up there and take care of whatever lady's inside."
"Person? Inside?"
Ernie didn't have a good feeling about this. "Uh, yeah. A woman, apparently."
"Is she...helping the monsters?"
"Sander, what are you planning?"
"Fighting."
"Fighting what?" Ernie's voice turned harsh, "The giant? Or the woman in the light? Are you just gonna leave Cal to fight alone?"
Kadabra was with her, of course, but Ernie refused to count him as an ally. Not with that subnatural-killing track record the Precursor held. Not that Sander was any trustworthier.
Sander blinked, then hastily shook his head, even when Ernie probably didn't see it.
"Sander. Answer me properly, please."
"I'm helping Callan." -Sander frowned, though his eyes still focused on the glowing orb.
"Wait and see if Chris succeeds first," Ernie pleaded, moving in closer as if his point would get across better that way, "Help Cal by fighting alongside her."
At this point, he and Sander was close enough to the golem. Not quite in combat range yet, but close enough that the thick curtain of dust from crushed debris hung heavy and the scent of iron was smothering. Sander's breathing shuddered as he stopped on a nearby rooftop.
"You can stay here." -He said to Ernie after a short pause, surveying the scene before him. Something rather uncharacteristic, but Sander didn't let himself think much about it. His attention was fully directed at the giant monster rampaging through the streets. Callan's sweet scent nudged at him like an afterthought though, so he turned his head, trying to locate her.
A sigh of relief as Ernie finally touched his unsteady legs on something solid. Finally. His limbs were starting to get sore from all that holding on. Like Sander, the buzzcut boy scanned their surroundings, paling at the sheer scale of the monster his classmates were facing.
His classmates. Not him.
He turned to Sander. "You haven't answered me yet."
"Huh?"
"You're gonna help Cal with the giant first. And you're gonna let Chris do his job, right?"
"...Alright." -Sander finally nodded, a slump in his shoulders like a child not getting his way -"It's not...good. That thing isn't...good. Isn't alive." -He mumbled, almost just to himself.
Ernie wasn't sure what he meant. Probably better to just ignore it. "Just...help our friend. Please. Don't let her get hurt."
Sander nodded then, stepping toward the edge of the building.
"You should stay close." -He said over his shoulder, before letting himself drop into the streets below.
After a fall like that, Callan felt certain she should have been far more disoriented than she was. But adrenaline, as always, was a miracle worker. Enough to drive everyone into action amidst the collection of quiet groans and distant screaming. Grant rushed to help whoever was pinned under the heavy bookcase and Allison quickly freed herself, Zoe, and Gregory from the intricate chandelier. One she'd quietly observed as she fell asleep on the couch the night before. There was something perturbing about seeing the once admired penthouse flipped on its side with everything in shambles.
Even more concerning to her was the sight of General Brahms. She knew mindlessly following orders hadn't helped her much before, but it was a comfort to have any orders at all. He wanted them to retreat and regroup, but the distant crashing and screaming outside the downed building filled her mind with uncertainties. But that would have to wait.
As those with the ability to move did so, Callan quickly assessed the damage, choosing to ignore Zoe's impromptu exit after a snidely delivered glance at the back of her head. She heard Brent's call, but remained silent. Of course she was okay, but Callan was far more interested in hearing from everyone else. Angelique's answer didn't bode well. Nor did a quick glance towards the raven haired aberration who, along with Sophia, were apparently the ones who'd been crushed by the bookshelf Grant had moved. Marcus and Sander didn't seem to be in great shape either.
A healer. They needed a healer. Movement caught her eye as Sander ran and jumped out the window without notice- down towards where, if her memory from only moments ago served her correctly, the balcony should have been. She overheard the frantic shouting of Brent and then Lily as she moved closer, quickly noticing what all the commotion was about just as Sander yanked two poles out of the small arbiter's leg and torso. She rushed to join Brent, Lily, and Ernie at the window's edge, watching the pair in apprehension while she waited, expecting Sander to use Ernie's rope and bring him up before it dawned on her that aberration hadn't powered up yet. He needed blood. Blood which was....
Callan grasped the golden rope and immediately jumped over the edge, sliding down and stopping herself where she finally reached the pair. Her eyes immediately fell on the gaping wounds, no longer obstructed by the bits of metal. They should've been bleeding so much more than they were. And Sander, wreathed in the shimmering mist of Christmas's power that mirrored the effect on the healer himself....
"Sander, stop!" she said, a tinge of panic in her voice as she moved closer, twisting the rope around her wrist and bracing herself against some railing so she could grab Sander's wrist.
Red eyes turned to meet her, wide with fear and desperation. Even though he was weaker now, Sander yanked against the grip -"N-No. You don't understand. I have--It's bleeding...I have to stop it."
This situation called for a cool head and Callan found Sander's expression unnerving. Nonetheless, she leveled her voice as she responded, gently tighting her grip. "I know. Lily's going to heal him, but we need that blood. People are hurt up there." she glanced impatiently up at Lily. She seemed to be hesitating-- something Callan wouldn't have thought strange at all considering what she was about to do. But knowing how quickly she'd taken on injuries in the past, she couldn't help but wonder about what was taking so long. Especially with Sander here. She moved her hand over Sander's, pressing down lightly, "Keep applying pressure, but you have to stop absorbing it. Can you do that?"
"It won't stop bleeding." -Sander only whispered, as he turned back to Christmas, pressing both of his hands against the wound once more -"I can't...help with by being weak. I need this."
Her expression hardened. Angel, Sophia, Marcus, those soliders... they needed this blood. Not Sander. This... was this what he meant by losing control?
"No. No, you don't," she sternly replied "Get it somewhere else. You have to get it somewhere else." Applying pressure wasn't going to help if Sander started accelerating the boy's blood loss. "Move your hands, Sander."
"I can't. He'll die."
Callan grit her teeth. "THEY'RE gonna die if you keep this up, Sander! ...Sander! Stop!" There wasn't time for this. Sander wasn't being reasonable. In that moment, she noticed Lily's familiar thread finally snake its way around Christmas's wrist. A scream from up above accompanied the dissappearance of his wounds, but Sander was still lapping up all the excess with his ability.
She grabbed the front of Sander's shirt and shoved him away roughly. Just enough to seperate him from Christmas. He hadn't absorbed enough to resist her yet and it was better she keep it that way. At least until they found him a different blood source. She quickly moved between them, wrapping one arm around the frail arbiter's waist and the other around Sander before jumping towards the ledge.
Upon landing, she released Sander, but kept a a tight grip on his arm as she laid the smaller boy down gently, doing her best to avoid any of the large shards of glass that littered the floor. With a brief shake of her free wrist, the end of Ernie's rope unraveled from her wrist and fell to the ground.
Turning to face Sander, she stood between him and Christmas, staring expectantly. She didn't like using her abilities like that. She didn't want to have to force her teammates into submission. That's not what her strength was for. Nonetheless, she felt firm in her decision as she waited to see what Sander might do next. If he was going be angry with her, she was ready for it. She only hoped to get it over with quickly. She understood Sander had panicked and was concerned, but the clock was most assuredly ticking.
Sander stared at Callan first, then his gaze turned to Christmas and stayed there ββC-Can IβPlease let go. Iβm notβ¦I wonβt hurt him.β -He tugged uselessly on Callanβs steely grip.
The broken look on his face caught her off guard and she let go. It was less about Sander hurting Christmas and more about the blood, but she didn't have it in her to keep him away. Especially knowing how they felt about each other. Nonetheless, she stood at Sander's shoulder. She trusted Sander, but he'd told her himself that he struggled with control-- something that eerily reminded her of Zoe, but she brushed the thought aside. At least Christmas wasn't bleeding anymore.
Sander was at Christmas' side in an instant, crouching down and pressing his hands against the unconscious boy's bloody face. He was mumbling something too, but the words were too broken and shaky to actually make sense. Callan looked out the window worriedly. They couldn't stay here. The screams of the terrified citizens of DC felt like her siren call.
Crouching down next to Sander, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He's gonna be okay," she told him confidently, "But for now, I need your help." She motioned towards the chaos outside the shattered windows of the tilted penthouse, "I, uh," she hesitated for a moment, haunted by the memory, "I saw a dead soldier over there. Definitely dead. You can get the blood you need there."
Sander remained unresponsive for the longest of time, despite the mention of more blood. Eventually, he recovered enough to gave Callan's instructions a quiet nod, but that was it. He remained where he was.
Lily was expecting the voices to urge her to hurt someone again as she laid crumpled on the ground. This time she was ready for it, ready to resist it. But instead of the usual demanding voices, this time it was different. Completely different.
Do you think these people are worth saving? They let you hurt yourself for their own sakes. Broken bones, wounds, severed arms. They don't care about you. All they care about is themselves. Will you really bleed for them?
The voice in her head sounded like hers. Were they her own? Was she doubting the people she swore to protect as if they were her family? She shook her head, trying to clear it. This was no time to be doubting people. Christmas needed help and the more she dallied, the more he was losing blood, the nearer to death's door he was. She tried focusing her thoughts on the healer. Sander should have been able to pull out those metal bars by now. The thread appeared on her wrist and the other end snaked towards the window.
And stopped.
Will you bleed for a boy who SHOULD BE bleeding?
He would. For me.
Will he really?
The small teenager had no real answer to that. She struggled with the growing doubt in her head as the thread continued to its target. Slowly, slowly... Until it finally wrapped itself around the bleeding boy's wrist. A split second more and it would have been too late. A split second more and the healer would have gone to irreversible hypovolemic shock. As his wound instantly healed and transferred to the girl above, the voices in Lily's head began shouting in tune to the blood that spilled out of her newly acquired wounds.
No one will die for you no matter how much you try to save them. NO ONE will care if you bleed to death. All they're good for is dying. Because when they die, no one will be left behind to hurt you.
Kusari watched quietly as Lily attached her thread to Christmas and took on his wounds. A disturbing amount of blood began pouring out of her, making herself the one that needed saving now. Kusari keeled down next to her and took the girl's left hand in her own. "You're going to be alright Lily, you know what to do. Trust me, alright? I trust you."
Lily heard the words but the voice--her voice but at the same time not hers--and the dizziness that was settling in from the blood loss was making her confused.
"Trust..." she murmured. Where had she heard that word before?
"One more thing. It'd probably be better if you kept your amping a secret between us. If the others find out that you've been losing control of your Stigma and hurting someone more than necessary, they might lose trust in their healer. And that can't happen. Okay?"
Why trust them when they don't trust you? Pass it on, pass the injuries and make them all bleed.
Struggling for control over herself and the chaos in her mind, Lily looked at the pale Arbiter that was holding the hand that was broken. A sharp pain that lanced through the injured hand brought a little clarity to her cluttered thoughts. Golden eyes stared at red ones. So different from the hazel brown eyes she thought would help her control her stigma. These eyes would give her courage. "I'm sorry, Kusari..." she mumbled, trying to wade through the confusion and violence in her head. She had to make sure that she didn't amplify. She had to make sure that the immortal wouldn't be hurt more than necessary.
Kill her. The voice was eerily calm. And it was more disconcerting than when it was shouting.
She reached out with her good hand and gripped Kusari's hand, the one that was holding her injured one. She closed her eyes and her grip tightened as she struggled for control and struggled to stay awake from the overwhelming dizziness. After a second, her thread connected her with her immortal classmate, transferring the bleeding wounds. No amplification. Just what she took. And just Christmas' wound. As soon as she was healed, she released Kusari's wrist and curled herself into a ball, ankle bones and left wrist still broken.
"Hey hey hey. You're okay." Marcus said, limping over and kneeling down near Lily. His tone was soft and ressuring; motherly even. From what he could see, Callan was currently holding Christmas, who was not looking to be in the best of shape. His clothes were dyed crimson, and if Kusari was sporting the same wounds he had been, it was a wonder he was even alive. Even as he could see some spots of his own clothing turning red, he focused on the other people, eyes darting around.
He had no idea what was happening. People were hurt, Lily was curled up, Callan was standing above an unconcious Christmas and a conscious Sander. Everything was a mess.
"Can you stand?" he asked, eyes going back to Lily as he offered a hand, waiting to see if she actually needed it.
Marcus' voice made Lily look up, her eyes unfocused and a strange half smile on her lips. She shook her head. "Broken ankles," she muttered, barely hearing her own voice amidst the cacophony of voices in her head. Gone was the strange calm voice that wanted her to kill Kusari, replaced by the familiar shouts and insults.
Ernie coiled his rope as soon as Cal returned with the two idiots, assessing the situation through his irritation and pounding head. Sander almost killed Christmas thanks to his complete lack of common sense and now Lily was doing the exact thing he told her not to do. Whatever little good mood Ernie had retained from the night before had completely vanished.
The buzzcut Aberration knelt down and pulled at the girl's calf to examine the extent of the damage. It definitely wasn't something he could overlook. Ernie clicked his tongue. Marcus and Grant were bleeding. Angelique and Sophia looked seriously injured. Christmas was out cold from shock or blood loss. This wasn't the fucking time to be a martyr.
"Lily. There are still others who need healing. You can't help if you keep these fuc--injuries," Ernie said lowly, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. He looked to Kusari as if to ask her to recall their conversation. To do something. He turned back to Lily.
"Remember why you're here. Christmas is down. You're our only hope. We need you to be okay."
Someone holding her calf. It should have hurt but Lily barely felt it. Her whole attention was on the voices in her head and the growing desire...no, not desire. It was more of a need to hurt someone. Someone was talking. A familiar voice. She turned to him. Familiar eyes.
The strange voice resurfaced in her head. Hurt him.
No... These are friends... family... I should...
Hurt.
Hurt?
It didn't take long for Emma to spot the others, the people she cared about- Marcus, Callan, Lily, Kusari, and, reluctantly, Ernie. With them also was Sander, Christmas, and Brent. It also didn't take long for her to grasp the situation, unsettlingly similar to the incident with Zoe, but this time the injured was Christmas, their primary healer. Emma rushed over, distantly remembering something Brent had told her to do... he had asked her to bring out Determination when Lily was healing Zoe. If she was right, that meant that he thought...
Can't mess this up again.
βWait!β she called out, Determination appearing beside Lily, βYou don't need to transfer the wounds to Kusari. Use him.β Emma said, breath heavy, still reeling from the aftermath of the explosion.
Despite Lily's desperate attempt to control her stigma, half of her was already convinced that she should do what it says. It was becoming a losing battle. Only the hazel eyes staring down at her with frustration were keeping her violence at bay. And then something appeared beside her. Something that wasn't human. And even before Emma's words registered in her head, she had already latched on to the idea, the black thread appearing instantly on the Tulpa's wrist. It wasn't human. So it means she can hurt it without consequence, right?
Release it healthily.
She didn't hold back and transferred more than what she took. Much much more.
Determination disappeared as soon as the injuries transferred. Emma had been expecting that, but not this quick. Shouldn't he have been able to take more than that? Maybe it's only because she'd never seen them take more minor injuries like that... yeah, that must have explained it. She was ready though, and as soon as he was gone another Determination took his place, ready for more if needed.
"Are you okay, Lily?" Emma asked, concern filling her voice.
There wasn't any screams of pain from the transferred injuries but Lily felt a certain kind of satisfaction in seeing the tulpa disappear. It also seemed to have calmed down her stigma somewhat. She looked at Emma in wonder then at the shadow humanoid as it reappeared beside her, nodding her head slowly. "I'm okay..."
Others were on the move now, different pieces coming together to speed up the process, but work was far from done. Zoe, Allison, and Hazel had all ran off, chasing down their respective targets, while there were others who still required healing. The bloodied cuts on Marcus's body were the obvious ones, but neither Sophia nor Angelic looked like they were all too fine either.
But there was something to be glad of regardless: the beefy humanoid shadow that Emma had manifested could, in fact, take on the wounds that Lily had transferred.
They had a better option now, than relegating Kusari to always be paired up with Lily. As a matter of fact, with the wonders of the cuff, Emma could summon her monsters by Lily any time in order to act as a target for injury transferral. Was this ground-breaking? No, but it was definitely a development they could take advantage of in the future.
"Nice, Emma," Brent smiled, glad something worked out for once, "Lily, how many more can you do? Angelic and Sophia need help too, if you can manage."
Ernie looked between Determination and Lily, delighted at the discovery of this new combo. Amplification with no consequences. This was exactly what they needed. He pulled Lily up into a sitting position so he could pat her on the back, the parts that weren't stained by blood at least.
"You worked it out!" he beamed tiredly, "Awesome stuff, I'm proud."
There were still so many who needed to be healed. Even if she completely vanish her wounds, the mental and physical toll of repeatedly using this kind of magic needed to be considered.
"Angelique and Sophia. Then take a small break, yeah?"
Dizziness threatened to overtake Lily when she was pulled her into a sitting position. The worst of the injuries were gone but the effect of the blood loss was still with her. But that didn't prevent her from beaming at both Brent and Ernie. Who would've thought that there was a solution to her stigma problem? Delighted that Emma found a solution, she nodded at both boys that asked her to heal more. No need to hesitate this time. She sent out her thread that immediately wrapped itself on Angelique's wrist.
As the the singer's injuries transferred to her, the x-marked blonde gasped at the new pain in her chest. Voices in her head clammored for her to hurt someone again. But this time, she didn't worry about the voices. The solution was there beside her. She immediately connected herself to tulpa, transferring what would have been fatal had it been human. And then one by one, she healed each subnatural, alternating between taking injuries and transferring them to Determination, making small whimpers every time she took on damages. "No need for breaks," she smiled tiredly at Ernie.
The balded Aberration merely raised a skeptical eyebrow, still smiling thanks to the migraine that had been lifted from him. The girl had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to make the same mistake he had at Wisford and overestimate the healers' medical knowledge.
"Just don't bite off more than you can chew, yeah?" he chided with one last pat on the back.
What Ernie said made sense. She should make sure that she doesn't tire herself too much that she'd be unable to help out when she was needed again. But at the moment, she didn't really care. Her friends needed her.
It really was hella impressive, and Brent shook his head at just how effectively Lily could work once she had a target that she didn't mind healing. Patting the younger girl on the back, he said, "Real good work you're doing. Next time we're not facing the end of the world, I'll treat you to something to eat. Got a request?"
The question made Lily look up, just after she had transferred the latest injuries she had taken to Determination. The smile on her face was huge, her eyes twinkling with delight and she said the first thing that came to mind. "Ice cream and donuts, please." And then she turned her attention back to the rest of the injuries around her.
"We'll make both then," Ernie stood up. A light smirk remained on his face despite the dire situation, "Ice cream's surprisingly easy to do if you've got the equipment. And donuts is just baking."
"The next Team SAP activity?" Brent grinned.
Lily's eyes were wide as she looked from Brent to Ernie. "...is just baking..." she echoed. "I don't know how to bake... or at least I don't remember if I can..." She grimaced as a new set of injuries transferred to her. They were small cuts but the smallest ones were almost always the most painful ones.
"Heh. I'll teach all you guys. But let's make sure we get outta here alive before we set a date or anything," Ernie's smile started to fade as he took in more of the chaos outside. So much fear and distress. This wasn't good for his Stigma.
Lily nodded and turned her full attention on those that still needed her. Some of the guards who had been with them were injured too, if not dead. She hesitated, wondering if she should heal them. Priorities," she thought and continued healing subnaturals. There would be time for the regulars later. Maybe.
Seeing that Lily was in stable health, Ernie went to his own business, picking up his bag and twisting open his concealer to start covering his neck. Once that was done, he walked over to the fallen soldiers to see what he could salvage. The glares of the remaining mourning their fallen comrades were easily ignored.
The wounds in her body having healed, Kusari stood to her feet with an annoyed groan. Emma using Determination as the recipient of Lily's magic earlier would have been great. At least Lily didn't have an excuse to refuse to fully heal herself. As she wiped off some of the blood on her she looked towards the way out of the room, and then to Angel and Sophia. "Shouldn't we be regrouping and making sure everyone is alright before we jump into battle?" She said, her tone an audible facepalm. "Better yet, why bother fighting at all? We weren't given orders after all." She wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, the way she say it her words applied to all of them.
"I mean, Brahms did say that we needed to evacuate." Marcus said, taking a sitting position on one of the overturned pieces of furniture. His leg throbbed uneasily, but he tried to ignore it; there were people who needed the healing more than he did, and it wasn't like this was the worse injury he'd every had to deal with. Hell, it wasn't even the worse injury he had to deal with in the last month.
"But we've got quite a few unconscious people, and we can't exactly run around with them without making ourselves targets." he added, weighing the pros and cons of the few strategies that were slowly forming in his mind.
While Marcus was speaking, Lily's black thread wrapped itself around his wrist, instantaneously healing his leg. After she had taken care of Marcus, she finally turned her attention to the regulars, still hesitating about whether she should help them out or not.
"Bigger problem," Brent added, "Is that Zoe, Hazel, and Allison have already gone off to engage. Are we going to leave them behind? Force them to come along? Or what?"
Yeah, try and force those people to do anything. That'd be more dangerous than staring down the monsters that were currently wrecking the city. Not that Marcus could blame them for running off; there were people out there being killed, and even he didn't want to just turn tail and run, despite the safety that kind of plan assured them.
He gave Lily a look as the black thread wrapped around him, instaneously vanishing with his glass cuts. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped; he didn't need the healing - especially for a little (comparatively) injury like he had. Still, he wasn't going to chastize her for helping, giving her a small smile and a nod instead.
"We could split up again, like Wisford. Everyone willing to fight follows those three, while the rest of us get these wounded to a drop point, and meet up if we're able?" he said, his own voice unsure. It wasn't a good plan, but they currently had no plan, and it was better than that, at least.
Callan's attention was more drawn to the conversation than Sander's meager response. As Kusari suggested they leave, she stood and listened for a moment. "Sander and I can stall while you guys find a safe place to regroup," she said. The thought that Sander might refuse didn't so much as cross her mind. She glanced at Kusari with a wary frown, "Either way, I'm going out there."
"We're already grouped, other than the three that have left. What exactly would regrouping even do?" Brent pointed out. Was this her hero complex kicking in? "And destroying the ice giant...I don't think that would mean much. It was summoned or created by someone, Callan. This isn't going to end unless you find that person."
He paused, slowly taking in the enormity of the situation. Why was he reasoning so hard? Wasn't this heroic, idealistic bullshit something he liked? Strange.
At the mention of his name, Sander looked up, blinking in surprise -"...I have to stay with Christmas." -He stated, tone suddenly firm.
Emma sighed, finally speaking up, βWe have to do something. We can't just abandon the others... and anyways...β Emma suddenly wasn't sure if what she was going to say really mattered. Would they care about the people of D.C.? The very same people that hated them, that thought them lesser than themselves? βWe don't know how fast the Precursors will be here... if we don't do something the city could be in serious trouble.β
The confidence in Callan's expression faltered for a moment as Brent pushed back, memories of the hospital rooftop and his quickly retreating back coming to mind in spite of the urgent chaos around them-- followed by Sander's rebuttal. Hadn't Brahm said there would be back up? Shouldn't they take Christmas and the others to safety? What did he mean that ice giant was summoned by someone? How did he know that? Was it a mage? A monster? Where was it?
One thing at a time.
Callan nodded. "Emma's right. We have to do something. But we can't leave Christmas and the General here," she argued, motioning towards the man. She glanced down at Sander pleadingly, "Sander, you're not coming?"
"I want to stay with Christmas." -The blood mage answered simply.
"What a surprise," Ernie called out drily, looking up from the pile of guard equipment he was gradually amassing for the others. The boy himself was already wearing some paraphenalia, "But that's fine, ain't it? It's not like Christmas is in any shape to heal, even if he was awake. He's useless here. Just take him and the general some place far and safe."
Sander spared Ernie a glance, but didn't make any further comment. He turned to Callan instead -"Do you want me to stay?"
Marcus sighed angrily and shook his head at the lack of actual answer from Sander, and crossed his arms. "I can grab some of the uninjured guards and run everyone that's not fit to fight somewhere out of the way. Hopefully with my power, I'll be able to drop them off and turn right back around and join you guys."
He chuckled to himself, in a tone that almost sounded like irritation. "Hell, Kadabra's already here, so the fight'll probably be done by the time we stop arguing and actually get out there."
Frustrated by Sander, Callan made her way over to the window, anxiously tapping her heel while Ernie spoke up. She noted his tone with mild irritation, but decided against saying anything. Whatever beef they had with each other could wait.
Hearing Kadabra's name was a comfort, but did little to diminish her desire to get moving. Even if she could help save one person, it would be worth it. Better then standing around arguing for sure. Noticing the bright light high above the city, Callan turned back to face Sander and the others, "Sander, if you're not going to help me, then at least help Marcus get the injured out. It isn't safe here." She glanced quickly at Brent, "I can't fly, so whatever summoned that ice giant will have to wait for Chris. But people are dying. I can't just let that ice giant keep doing whatever it wants."
Without waiting for a response, Callan jumped, breaking into a run after the looming figure of the giant.
"Hey, wai-" Kusari reached out her hand as Callan ran off, only to let it limply fall to her side as she exited the room. It was far too late to have everyone escape at once, so she threw the idea of a quick retreat out the window. "You fight one giant monster and suddenly you're an expert..." She grumbled to herself before turning to the others. "I'm borderline useless against something that big, so I'll help whoever decides to get out of here."
Just like that, she was gone, huh? Brent smiled mirthlessly at the sight of Callan's retreating back, the superhuman launching off after Hazel. If she wasn't planning on listening to reason the first place, why even ask?
"I'll stay behind then, if you're all retreating. Someone's gotta watch their backs," the arbiter said, his eyes catching onto Ernie's looting activities. "Sander, can you power up with Kusari's blood? And Ernie, got binoculars or a gun in that pile of yours?"
Ernie gestured to the pile with a flourish. Armaments from a total of thirteen separate soldiers, nine dead and three unconscious. More than enough for the remaining class here. Glowsticks, flareguns, grenades. Helmets with visors, body armor and combat boots. Binoculars were definitely included. Guns too. A smaller, separate pile of utility belts similar to the ones handed out for the Wisford mission was by Ernie's feet. Standard issue pistols were somewhere in that. Beside the belts, a hill of assault rifles and stun guns glinted in the sunlight. Ernie tossed a belt and a pair of binoculars to Brent.
"Plenty of both. Got some heavier duty stuff here too but unless you've trained with them before I wouldn't recommend picking them up," Ernie said, nodding to the grenades and assault rifles.
"Yes." -Sander gave a curt answer to, but he stood up and ambled over to Ernie instead. From the looted items, he took a knife. Then wordlessly, he walked toward a corpse and knelt down next to it. A stab in the neck area was enough to let the cooling blood ebbed, and Sander put his hands where the wound was, soaking up the warmth.
Lily was looking and listening to what was happening around her, still sitting where she had fallen earlier, the dizziness abating a little but still there. It would take a bit for the blood she had lost to regenerate. She still haven't healed the guards yet but as soon as her eyes settled over Sander stabbing what appeared to be a dead man in the neck, she felt sorry for them. If I heal them they'd be able to help out in any way they can. If they don't...well, then at least they won't be any more burden to any of us, she thought to herself and looked up at Determination, who was still standing beside her after being summoned several times. Making up her mind, she sent out her thread. The first regular it touched cringed and pulled back, most probably expecting that it'd hurt rather than heal. When his injuries disappeared, he gave a sigh of relief and glanced towards the blood soaked Aberration sitting a few feet away, a mixture of fear and gratitude in his eyes. Something Lily didn't really notice or care to see.
One by one. The same cycle. Take and give until all injuries were gone. Determination disappeared one last time with a poof...or at least that's how Lily thought it disappeared. And then when she was done, she looked towards Emma and gave her a triumphant smile. "Thanks, Emma!"
Emma returned Lily's smile readily. βOf course. I'm just... sorry I didn't figure this out sooner. Things would've been a lot easier on you and Kusari.β Emma's smile turned to a slight frown, thinking about all the injuries the both of them had to needlessly sustain, if only she'd been a little smarter, a little better with her power.
The grin was still on Lily's face. It would take a lot to bring her mood down with her stigma sated. "Better late than never!" she happily replied.
"Guess that makes you Offensive Support!" Marcus said. An eerie similarity to the mission they'd just finished not that long ago.
He wandered over the pile next to Ernie, shooting Sander a disgusted look as his slit the throat of a dead guard. Sure, the man wasn't needing the blood anymore - but it seemed disrespectful at the least. Some of the guards watching this were probably friends...and he didn't think that he'd remain as cool as these guys when faced with that. As sobering as it was to remember, these guys were people too.
He snagged a gun from the pile, checking the magazine to make sure it was actually loaded, and a utility belt to accompany it. He was just about to turn away when the familiar orange hue stood out to him - another flare gun. The first one had at least done something, so it probably wouldn't hurt to have another. Or that was his justification as he greedily shoved it in his belt.
Offensive support. Gearing up for the mission. Evac team.
Hopefully this one went a little better than last time.
Emma glanced down at the pile Ernie had formed. It all seemed a bit macabre, looting the corpses of the dead guards. Even though they never did them any favors something about it still felt wrong. Emma glanced at the guns wearily. Would it have made a difference in Wisford? Emma quickly picked up one of the belts and a pistol to go with it, suddenly deciding to make up her mind before she lost her resolve. She began putting it on, turning towards Marcus. She hadn't gotten the chance to say anything to him during all the chaos. βI'm glad you're okay.β she said, trying her best to smile despite the situation they were in.
"Should have known you'd never be able to get rid of me that easily." he said with a chuckle, slipping his arm around her and pulling her in for a hug. "I'm glad you're alright, too." he added softly.
Ernie rolled his eyes as he buttoned up the combat shirt. He could almost pass for a regular soldier now if it weren't for the lack of body armor on him. The sentimentality was understandable but...god, there were several corpses in the room. Not to mention the ice giant lumbering around. Well, at least Cal had left before she could see this lovey dovey nonsense. The balded Aberration looked to the couple's belts as he clipped his helmet, narrowing his eyes at the firearms.
"You two know how to use those, right? I don't want anyone here shooting themself in the foot or breaking a wrist cos they were cocky."
Emma hugged Marcus back before breaking off to turn towards Ernie. βMy step-dad took me shooting... once.β Emma said, looking down at the gun now attached to her belt. βIn Wisford I was caught out without my power, in the middle of that mess with the enemy Mages. I... don't want that to happen again. It'll only come out of the holster if I don't have any tulpas to fall back on. It's better than nothing, right?β
"And Max taught me how to shoot. BB guns at least..." he said, turning to also look at Ernie. "Must've been worth something at least, because I managed to hit a little rat thing, and that gravity girl back at Wisford."
Ernie nodded, satisfied with the responses. "Just making sure."
Emma's answer caught his attention though. Caught out without her power? Did her summons--no, 'tulpas' now, whatever the heck that meant--have some time limit? Did they drain her energy a lot?
"I fled when I could have saved them. I shut down on that battlefield."
Ernie frowned but decided to let it go. Not the time. He'd have to keep an eye on her though. The Aberration focused his attention on the assault rifles in lieu of Emma's mystery powers, lifting one up to get the feel of it. Urgh. Way too heavy for his liking. But it completed his disguise so he'd just have to deal with it. His whistle and a pair of binoculars hung from his neck. An impromptu sash made of the climbing slings he'd brought to Wisford carried his first aid kit, as well as his personal collection of carabiners, belays and his grappling hook. Had it not been for the canvas bag full of ammunition and grenade pouches, Ernie might have looked like a real Private.
While others spoke up, Brent got to work suiting up. Combat helmet, body armor, boots, a utility belt with both a gun and a stun gun holstered, as well as the binoculars that were requested. It was a shame that climbing gear wasn't available, but the collection of grenades were definitely tempting, even if he wasn't able to overclock and toss them. He thought about it for a bit, before deciding to grab himself a flare gun instead. After that, it was just filling his belt with two more of those standard-issue pistols, an oddly comical look if it wasn't for how his power functioned.
Was a melee weapon necessary as well? He looked at his body armor, before deciding not to bother. This would be fine for now.
"You three are going to be heading away then?" Brent asked, twisting his hips to test for how unwieldy this setup was.
"That's the plan." Marcus said, looking to the members of their little group. "If we're able, we'll rejoin you guys. Try to leave some fight for us."
"I'll stay here. Wouldn't be much help with the move with my power," Ernie looked to Brent to see if that was okay with him. Though retreat was a really tempting action, someone staying out here all by themself seemed like a bad idea. He needed to have faith in his rope, "Someone's gotta watch the backwatcher's back, right?"
Strange. He'd been so eager to stay on the backlines at Wisford. What was different here?
The fact that he had the chance to protect a friend. The fact that he had the option to leave at any time. The hundreds of terrified screams filling the air. It was true that he didn't give a shit about the lives of some asshole Regulars. But that didn't make watching a bunch of lives get snuffed out any easier. Wasn't this why he started training to improve himself? So he could do something when it counted?
Plus, they had just survived a tower fall. As long as they stayed far from the ice giant and blob's path, they should be fine.
"Who's gonna watch the back-backwatcher's back then?" Brent replied with a grin, before trying out his binoculars. "Good to have you though, Ernie. Gotta get back here once I run out of guns anyways."
"Alright. Keep yourselves safe." Marcus said, giving the two a nod. He turned to face the rest of the penthouse, taking a deep breath. Military planning; Max was always the best at military planning. For obvious reasons. Lot of yelling - staying cool and confident. Power. Be aggressive. A little bit different than the interview. The interview was nice and cooperative. They didn't need nice right now; they needed action.
Brave face.
"Transmit. Everyone still in the Penthouse, listen up: If you're staying to fight, you need to find Ernie and Brent so you can actually come up with some plan of attack. Everybody else, you're with me for Evac; grab any unconscious or otherwise injured people you see, and meet up with Marcus. That goes for all the USARILN Guards too! Over!" he barked, almost trying to mimic Brahms's tone.
With that out of the way, there was still one more thing to take care of. Snagging the phone that had been stuck in the utility belt, Marcus spoke into it, still trying to command the authority he was currently faking.
"This is Marcus Howell from the Wisford Subnatural Group. We've got wounded personnel and need an immediate evacuation point."
Wasn't nice. But hopefully it was effective.
"Take the south-east general evac route detailed in the communicator, heading towards the Anacostia River," a gruff voice sounded through, talking briskly, "There will be evacuation personnel to escort you further once you reach Pennsylvania Avenue Bridge."
The line cut as quickly as it had been picked up.
Sander chose that moment to rise to his feet and amble back to where his roommate was. His torso was still sheathed in that bright glow of Christmasβ power, but along with that, there were thick wisps of red smoke billowing from his skin. Strength coursed through his veins, in exchange for the small price of desecrated bodies and disgusted looks from the living.
However, Sander didnβt seem to notice either. He just pulled Christmas into his arms, lifting the small boy up easily into his arms.
βIβll go back too. I canβ¦carry you if you canβt walk?β -Sander offered to no one in particular, eyeing the prone bodies of nearby soldiers.
Having heard Sophia's plaintive groan of pain just beside her, Angel was the more tempted to suck it up and deal with the pain and get one of their healer to help. Their situation was foreboding as whatever broke inside their body proved to be a growing danger as time went by. Plus, Angelique wanted to help the others as soon as she could, but she was a sitting duck with her injuries.
But they wouldn't last long however. There had been a small commotion happening near the balcony, where everyone had gathered. Soon enough, the pain in Angel's side began subsiding as a black thread appeared on her wrist. The black-haired young woman recognized this manifestation of power. It was without a doubt Lily's. Why the fuck was it always her? Why wasn't it Christmas? Angelique was relieved to finally breathe freely without coughing blood and feeling her ribs flaring up with pain each time she breathed, but she felt bad for the girl to have taken her injuries, to feel her pain even if it was for the smallest amount of time.
Clearing up her blood-filled throat with a last bloody hack, Angel wiped her crimson-stained lips. Now that she was patched up, there was no need for her to be sitting up on her ass and be useless. Some of her classmates already started heading towards the fight. She had to help. She wanted to help.
No, she wanted to fight. She wanted to destroy. Release her burdened mind from the pent-up anger and rage that was darkening her mood. She needed to vent, release it all against those deserving it.
The Voice Aberration tried to stand up and join the others. Become part of their plans and make sure Lily was being taken care of properly,. But the internal blood loss had already taken its toll on her. Angel's knees bucked under the sudden diziness, sending her falling frontwards and into Grant.
Grant was previously a bit confused from the sudden disappearance of his side's injury, though the blood staining his hand stayed. One of the healers, he could assume. He cast a glance to the side, where the black string lead to. The healer... her name was... well, it started with an L, he could remember. The sound of movement caught his attention in front of him, and he was faced by the sight of Angel trying to stand.
"He..hey, don't..." For once, Grant's voice had a hint of concern break through his usually flat voice as he watched her try. He took a step forward just in time for her to get back on her feet. For a moment, he thought that she might be fine, and there was nothing to worry about.
Then she began to fall. Even worse, began to fall toward him.
"Hey!" He exclaimed with emotion without thinking, bringing his hands up and catching her body before she, he, or both of them could hit the floor. His arms shook a bit from how sudden it was. He let out a breath, relieved, while at the same time realizing his voiced outburst. "Are... uh.." He cleared his throat before trying to get his words out again. "You shouldn't try to stand yet. Just sit down for a bit."
The warmth of Grant's arms catching her was welcoming instead of the ruined floor's impending cold touch, but that only made Angel angrier at herself. She hated this weakened state, She though she would be okay and, even if she was feeling dizzy, she could be of use. But not right now, as it would seem. Her body made sure of that.
"No!" The Aberration exclaimed angrily. But realizing shortly her wrath was directed at the wrong person, Angel sighed, her voice grew calmer and her face softened slightly. "I just want to get out there and help. I'm not going to sit up on my ass and do nothing while the others are risking their lives."
Grant ever so slightly flinched from Angel's exclamation, her voice angry, loud. Recollection. Gone. He was looking straight at her as her next words were calmer, yet conveyed the same message. He collected his words, trying to find the right words to say. They had to be in there somewhere. Grant finally slowly shook his head. "I understand you want to help. But in your condition, going out there is a death sentence. You can barely stand as it is. You'll be able to help much more once you've recovered." Couldn't lose another. At that thought, his brows furrowed and he ignored it, shaking his head free from the thought. "...I'm not saying you shouldn't help, but wait until you can actually stand on your own to do so.
"I just..." Angel tried to convince herself and Grant that she didn't want to feel useless, but she interrupted herself midway. Why was she trying to argue with him? Because she wanted to prove she was strong and dependable? So much for looking that way, as she was still caught up in Grant's securing arms.
Thoughts of Wisford. Thoughts of the Flags game back at USARILN. She had been useless. Useless because she let herself become overexerted from her wounds. Useless because she was too reckless and didn't prioritize her welfare. Grant was right. She would be of no help at all in this state. Worse, she could become a liability to her teammates. And that was the last thing she wanted to be.
As much as she wanted to sit down, being firmly secured in Grant's protective arms kind of prevented her from doing so. "Uh... can you help me over there then? By the couch?"
Situation disarmed. He fought back a sigh of relief when Angel agreed, apologizing. He had barely noticed that he was still holding her from catching her from the fall. Caught up in convincing her and all. Her request made him realize their somewhat awkward position, and his arms loosened, but was careful not to just drop her. "Oh, yeah.. yes." He'd say, moving to support her rather than hold her. Settled, he lead her to the wrecked couch.
"Thanks."
Although Angel detested the thought of sitting down on this now-uncomfortable couch while she took some time to recover, she willed herself to settle down and watch what the others would be doing. She didn't like the situation, but she couldn't afford to be a nuisance to the others by going against her body's current lacking functions.
"Grant? Could you bring Sophia here too? If I need rest, she probably needs it more than I do."
After Grant let Angel sit down on the couch, he gave a glance back at the younger subnatural still on the ground where he had just helped them from. It was only when Angel spoke when he found out her name. Sophia. Put name to face. He gave a nod before he made the quick trip back to the girl, and he carefully lifted her up in his arms. Predictably light. Slowly, he headed back to the couch and set her down on it.
While being carried Sophia gripped tightly to Grant, or at least, as tightly as she could while in this state. Even the movements from being carried made her feel dizzier, so when she was set down on the couch she curled up there with her eyes closed, muttering a quiet phrase meant to prevent anyone from worrying. "I'll be fine soon."
Angel quietly nodded at Sophia's reassuring words. She didn't look all that well, but the worst off their injuries was past them. She needed some rest, like Angel herself. "Alright. Take as much time as you need."
And oddly enough, Angel meant it for Sophia to just sit down and not take part of the ongoing battle. Seeing Sophia like this, it made Angel remember the loss her class recently had. Savannah... It was painful to remember the child this Aberration was starting to grow fond of had vanished to suddenly while she was not by her side.
"I'm sorry. When we fell, I thought I could somehow shield you from the impact. I didn't think I would actually squeeze your bones in with the shock."
Time. Something they didn't really have. Even through the haze that clouded her mind, Sophia knew that out there those monsters were still roaming. When would those creatures decide to head this way? "Soon..." she murmured again, but this time the words were almost lost. Nevertheless, she let herself relax into the couch, focusing on recovering from the shock that the sudden fall had given her.
Angel spoke softly, returning the girl's half-closed gaze with her unshielded and tired shadow-circled eyes, trying to muster up a reassuring smile. Angel wondered why Sophia wasn't talking this much at all, or with half-spoken sentences. Perhaps she was having it way tougher than Angel considering their iprevious injuries? Or perhaps was she mad at Angelique for having accidentally crushed her bones? Who knew. Now wasn't the time to overly think about it. They were both alive, it's what counts most in the young woman's mind.
Sighing silently, the raven-haired fallen rockstar shuffled into the bent, overturned couch, trying to position herself better to relax as well. Perhaps closing her eyes for a few minutes too would help recovering from her dazed state of mind.
As others got themselves organised, Ernie gathered equipment for both himself and Brent, breathing deeply all the while. Brent needed guns, lots of them. Ernie needed firepower. Both needed ammunition. He ran through the mental checklist and stuffed more pistols into his canvas bag, frowning when he saw Lily loitering by the Support Team.
"Feeling good?" the Aberration stood, tilting his head. The goal was to assess her current health but he probably wasn't being subtle about it.
Lily, feeling just a little bit dizzy from the blood loss earlier, was hanging around the Support Team hoping that she could be of some use to them. It was logical that she join the Evacuation Team and see if any body else needed healing but she felt like she could do more, contribute a little differently from how she always does. But how? She had no combat training. The last time she handled explosive, she almost blew up Marcus. The only thing she could do was to transfer damage and amplify. But with the other students' powers, was she really needed?
She was still chewing on the idea of offering her help when Ernie spoke up. "Hmmm? Oh. Yes, I'm feeling better, thank you," she said, emphasizing her answer with a bright smile.
"That's good. Make sure to pace yourself, yeah? Doesn't look like we'll be getting out very soon," he sighed. Ernie looked at her more seriously this time, "Why are you standing by Support Team?"
Lily nodded and then paused at Ernie's question. It was a very strange question. Why else would she be hanging out near Support Team? Of course she wanted to help. She felt she had a lot she can contribute. "I wanna help out," came her simple answer.
The boy frowned at the response. She seemed earnest enough. But Ernie knew that intentions meant little if you lacked the capacity to follow through. Knew that better than most.
"It doesn't look like Emma or Kusari are gonna be sticking around," he remarked, hoping that the girl would catch his drift. The reasonable thing to do would have been to just ask one of them to stay behind with Lily but...
Ernie grimaced. He had very specific personal reasons for not asking either of them. Plus, it didn't seem like a smart idea to put them in more unnecessary danger if they weren't up for it. Not that it had been a problem for Zhang or Kardos before.
"I think you should go with them. Evacuating a city is brutal work and we're gonna need all hands on deck. It'd probably be for the best if you stuck with those girls."
The blonde teenager stared at Ernie. He probably meant well and his words made sense but for someone who knew exactly what she can do, he didn't appear confident that she could help. He didn't appear confident at all. Was he afraid that she'd lose control over her stigma? But there were monsters. She can let loose against them. That was what they needed, to get rid of those monsters rampaging in the city, right?
He doesn't want you there cause he doesn't trust you. He thinks you're worthless and a burden.
That calm voice in her head again. It was disconcerting to hear. So calm, so confident of its words. And the worst part? The voice sounded like her. The voice was hers.
It was Lily's turn to grimace. Should she not trust the boy in front of her? Didn't he ask her to trust him? And by trusting him, it meant that he trusted her too, right? The Aberration wrestled with her thoughts. Having her mind free of all the other voices, it seemed more confusing. Did it really matter if Ernie trusted her? Did she have to have his permission to go fight? But if she fought, would the Evacuation team be okay especially with Christmas out of commission?
In the end, she came up with just one question. "Who will heal you if you get hurt?"
A resigned scratch of his head under the helmet. "Hopefully we'll be staying far enough away to avoid needing healing in the first place."
It was a fair point she raised. His first aid wasn't going to help with a ten-storey fall. And 'staying far enough' wasn't a viable strategy with those three Aberration girls charging away. Still, there were too many risk variables involved with Lily's healing for Ernie to be comfortable with her staying around.
"I know you feel that you gotta do something. But how will you heal out here? Hold onto all our injuries while Emma and Kusari are far behind? Transfer them onto one of the monsters and put yourself in even more danger because you got too close? There are too many risks we can't account for if you don't have a reliable transfer partner out here. I'm sorry, I just don't think it's a good idea for you to stay."
Lily pointed to the ice giant. "Transfer to that thing. Right. There," she said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone of voice, jabbing a finger towards the monster several times to emphasize her point. A part of her was getting frustrated. Why was Ernie treating her like some sort of kid that was insisting on going just because she wanted to go and not someone who was perfectly capable of helping out?
"And if that doesn't work? If your power does nothing or worse, it does something and doesn't kill it in one go? You piss it off then get crushed or swatted by an angry iceberg and we can't do anything about it. Me and Brent can't exactly take that thing on and we can't have Cal playing bodyguard while she's trying to fight."
Lily opened her mouth, a retort ready. What Ernie said made sense, of course, but the golden haired healer wanted to know how she'd fare in a battle. If it was like the first battle she was in where she fought fish and squirrel like creatures, then she knew she could dish out decent damage. Not that her own life wasn't in danger as it is but it wasn't fair that the others were always put in the front lines. Just because she could heal, did that mean that she had to always be protected. She needed to know if she could protect herself in battle too. The other part of her just wanted to argue with Ernie, wanted to convince him to let her go, wanted to know if what that strange voice in her head said was true.
But before she could say anything, her mood erratically shifted and her lips curved down into a frown. And with it came disinterest in both arguing and trying to make herself useful to people who just didn't want her to be around. "Fine. Stay alive," she said in a flat voice before turning away.
Ernie's shoulders dropped at the sight of the resigned girl. He'd always hated the 'for your own good' argument too. Having to inflict it on someone else just made the boy feel even worse than he already did.
"Lily, wait," he took her lightly by the shoulder, "I thought of something you can do."
The animated look that had been on Lily's face seconds ago was replaced by apathy as she turned around and looked at Ernie. "Stick with people who I can transfer injuries to. There's no need to say it again. I heard you the first time," she said in the same flat tone.
He shook his head. "Something like that. But better."
God, he hoped he wasn't condemning his classmates to their deaths with this.
"Remember the teams at Wisford? Try to convince Emma and a third person to move around with you so you can join us. A mobile healer unit."
It sounded smart in his head. But real life missions always found ways to fuck this sort of careful planning out.
"Help with the evacuation first. Then talk to Emma. You'll need one more person to go with you to back you guys up. A mover like Marcus or Siena maybe. Then you can come back and help with civilian or teammate injuries when we ping you. Take a belt with you so we can communicate."
Ernie lifted one of the looted utility belts and offered it to Lily.
Lily considered Ernie's suggestion for a few seconds before nodding. "Fine," she said. She reached out and took the belt offered to her and then without another word, turned and walked away.
The buzzcut boy opened his mouth as if to say more. He didn't want to part on such bad terms. Maybe he should have tried to fix things. Maybe he should have given her a better plan, or shared his suspicions about Emma. But he didn't. With one last dejected sigh, he let the healer go and went back to his own preparations.
"You stay alive too. Please."
Little time passed before the subnaturals and guards organised themselves into the separate teams. Gregory stayed with Brent and Ernie's makeshift Offensive Support team. The remaining teens began to move out, first heading south down New Jersey Avenue. Siena and one of the uninjured guards carried an unconscious troop while the remaining two unharmed soldiers teamed up to carry another knocked out comrade. Using Determination, Emma was prepared to transport Lawrence and another guard, one on each of the tulpa's shoulders. Kusari and Lily took care of another USARILN troop while Marcus helped Sophia to her feet for evacuation. A still-dazed Angel's arm was slung over Grant's shoulder as he lifted the remaining two incapacitated with his chains. That left Christmas and Brahms for Sander to transport.
"Be careful when you're moving," Ernie called out before they left, "Subnaturals strolling around during a mage attack won't be a good time for the Regulars. For anyone, really."
With that last warning, the remaining class went their separate ways.
A caustic flare searing through his throat. Something to go with the burning vice gripping his skull, he guessed. He probably deserved it.
Ernie had uselessly hoped that the emergency sirens would be the worst of the nuisance waking him from his midday nap. The noise seemed to physically bash his brain in with every infernal wail.
βHammer head,β he groaned, blindly pawing for his canvas bag as a soldier barked orders to evacuate.
There was no time to take it in. The sudden brand on his neck. The ice giant he glimpsed through tired, half-lidded eyes. The world turning sideways yet another time. Ernie had summoned his rope in the blind panic, feeling impact but no pain as gravity took its brutal course. A cacophony of shattered noises, screaming both human and mechanical in nature invaded his ears. He felt the weight of something stiff and unyielding rest on his chest. He was safe, for now. His rope had saved him from another fall. Physically he was unharmed. But Jesus H. Christ.
This migraine would fucking kill him before any tower fall would.
Grumbling incoherently, Ernie pushed the coffee table off him and tried to make sense of everything happening. His classmates were here, some pinned, some in trouble. Heβ¦he needed to help, rightβ¦?
A sudden lurch of his stomach and Ernie bent over, barely managing to keep his meagre breakfast in. His hands alternated between clutching his neck and holding his head in some attempt to block out the noise. Neither actions were doing anything to help. It was like molten lava seeping through his skull, scorching and pulsing with every fucking beat of that distant siren. Ernie resisted the urge to curl up and just lie there until it went away. Getting away was the biggest priority. He just needed toβ¦just neededβ¦
βRrrrgh!β Ernie suppressed another groan as Brentβs voice blared through. Another call from Brent, not from the cuff this time, and Ernie heaved himself to his feet, lumbering unsurely to whatever his friend needed. The Aberration vaguely recognised the prone, bleeding form of Christmas through his daze and understood the situation immediately.
Searching around, Ernie found a rod-like object to latch onto in the form of a long, broken frame piece. Feet were planted firmly on the floor. The rope latched onto the frame piece and was tossed over the side. With that, traction was secured. Ernie looked to Brent with a silent nod, signalling the βa-okayβ with his free hand before closing his eyes and massaging his forehead.
Urgh, hopefully heβd get some time to recover while everyone got themselves sorted.
Tell me if any of the links go to the wrong places. Timelines will be at the end of the 0th post in the OOC.
9:00am β Welcome to D.C. 9:00am β Emma laughs at Zip Zip Boi. Marcus gets no action. (Emma and Marcus Part 1: Arrival/Pillow Talk) 9:00am β Sophia gets a roommate. Lily gets a couch. (Arrival at Hyatt Regency (Sophia and Lily)) 9:00am β Hazel is a menace (ft. Steinway abuse). 11:00am β Jam Session. Pianos and harps and violins and vocals and all dat. 11:00am β Sander accessorises. Christmas knows materials. What the shit is a grosgrain? (Scent: Nostalgia) 12:00pm β Get in loser, weβre going shopping. Brent becomes a pack mule. Allison goes Americana. Siena gets a Fatality. Marcus is the Fatality. Angel goes to Nordstrom. What the shit is a Nordstrom? (Thursday| September 17 |12PM) 2:00pm β Ernie is an idiot. Brent is an enabler. Marcus makes sure no one gets killed. (Ernie, Brent, and Marcus: Splattered! Across the Penthouse) 7:00pm β Ernie starts bulking. Brent forcefeeds another person his meat. (Ernie and Brent: Get Fit or Die Trying) 7:00pm β Callan is a filthy vandal. Emma is a filthy thief. RIP Rileyβs cat. (Emma and Callan: Teenaged Delinquents) 8:00pm β Marcus is a filthy liar. Brent is a filthy coward. (Denial) 11:00pm β Angel trains the menace. Hazel is a piano prodigy. (Chapter III: Late Night Lessons)
8:00am β Chris is a bitch. Brent donβt play with bitches. (Friday | September 18 | 8AM) 8:00am β Ernie tries to be responsible (haha rip). Lily makes a friend, kind of?? (Ernie and Lily: Breakfast for Two) 9:00am β Angel trains the menace. Zoe fights a pillow. (Chapter IV: Blowing Off Steam) 11:00am β Ernie tries to be responsible again (oh dear). Kusari doesnβt like Guy Fieri. Truly a monster. (Ernie and Kusari: Feud Network) 12:00pm β Ernieβs a filthy racist. Angel likes Sesame Street puppets more than her friends. (Ernie and Angelique: No Strings Attached) 12:00pm β Wanna know how I got these tats? Siena is a sassy gril. Marcus is a dirty boi. (Relaxation Station) 1:00pm β Sophia walks into a wall. Brent learns the truth. (Friday | September 18 | 1PM) 4:00pm β Ernie sucks at French. Siena doesnβt kill him for his buffoonery for whatever reason. (Ernie and Siena: The Piano Guys) 5:00pm β Angel laughs at Zip Zip Boi. Marcus makes his debut on the Hug Counter. (Chapter VI: Popularity Talk) 8:00pm β Determination makes its TV debut. Darren is a good boyo. Terry is a good boyo too. Oh yeah, Emmaβs there too, I guessβ¦ (Emma and Darren: The Interview) 9:00pm β Emma deals with Regular shit. Marcus is purtyful. Mysterious Rich Boyo keeps showing up places. (Emma and Marcus Part 2: Night on the Town) 9:00pm β Hazel is a menace, pt. 2 (ft. Ernieβs pain). 9:00pm β Sander is a video game nerd. Christmas is a drunk shit. Rich Boyo makes his first appearance. (Scent: Liquor) 10:00pm β Zoe doesnβt toss meat. How boring. Brent confesses his case of the crazies. (Madness, Mistakes, and Meatballs β Zoe & Brent) 11:40pm β Smooches, ye boi. Itβs super gay. (Scent: Skin)
8:00am β Zoe bankrupts a coffee shop. Siena is honest?!? (Straightforward Surprises β Zoe & Siena) 9:00am β Ernie is probably a druggo. Emma doesnβt kill him for whatever reason. Hazel is password protected. Better security than Calβs phone. (Ernie, Emma, and Hazel: A Friendly Brunch) 10:00am β Cal is bad at dealing with phone cameras. Sander is bad at backstory. 11:00am β Sander is a smoochy boi. Christmas is bad at sandwiches. 12:00pm β Ernie shares shower stories. Allison finally has some backstory. Also she probs fucked a dude with red eyes. (Ernie and Allison: Red Eyes, White Lies) 1:00pm β Zoe is an arcade lord. Marcus is bad at everything. No one forgets Zip Zip Boi. (Pinball Wizard β Zoe & Marcus) 3:00pm β Emma deals with gay shit. Allison is too gay to function. (Emma and Allison: Iβm Trying Not To Be Awkward, But Youβve Got A Nice Ass) 5:30pm β Zoe is Zoe. Barbra makes things worse. (Bad Publicity) 6:30pm β Zoe reflects on her horde of child criminals. Lily begins her Soccer Arc. (Thanks for Lending a Hand β Zoe & Lily) 9:00pm β Five boys make absolutely damn sure that Zhang never lets any subnatural in her domain stay outside of a USARILN facility for the rest of time. Kadabra supports gay pride. (Saturday | September 19 | 9PM) 9:00pm β Ten girls make absolutely damn sure that Zhang never lets any subnatural in her domain go anywhere near a bottle of liquor for the rest of time. 10:00pm β Wet, naked, gay girls. That is all. (Chapter VIII: Confession Of Two Girls Over A Wet Mattress) 11:40pm β Look at the smoochy boi go! Christmas is bad at kneeling hugs.
8:00am β Brent gets a healthy dose of Jesus. Siena makes the ship tease of the century. (Brent x Siena gitfucktscaly) 10:00am β Angel is bored. Lily remembers. (Chapter IX: Healing Through Music) 11:00am β The catfight of the century. Emma deals with Stigma shit. Angel deals with it too. (Emma and Angel: Mutual Understanding)
Simply put, Yuuga is really, really, ridiculously good looking. Equipped with a natural height and a flawless skincare regime, the 183cm tall boy is quite the dazzling sight to behold when he strolls down the hallways. His naturally black hair has been grown to a length slightly above his shoulders. (If anyone were to watch him for an extended period of time, theyβd notice that he seems to swish it around super frequently for a dude.) He occasionally ties it into a low ponytail, for kyudo practice mostly. Alternates between glasses and contacts, depending on what he's doing and what look he's trying to pull off. Every morning his uniform is meticulously arranged to look casual yet classy, the top two buttons of his shirt left open and his tie in a loose knot below his collar. His sleeves are left unrolled though. Heβd rather not tread that line between looking casual and looking like a delinquent. (He has a reputation to uphold, after all.) Yuuga sometimes wears a light, woollen jumper over his school shirt.
Personality:
Years of active socialization has honed Yuugaβs amiability to a sharp and shining point. Heβs laid-back, thatβs for sure. Charming too. Classmates will find that heβs a boy who smiles a lot more easily than others (βNo one likes a sadsack, right?β), more willing to help with small favors, and all around just a swell guy. Heβs likable, to the point where itβs kinda eerie sometimes.
Itβs not an uncommon thing to find that Yuuga is a bitβ¦ too much at times. People who arenβt swept away by his charm view him as a narcissistic try-hard, some kind of faker behind that dashing veneer. The try-hard partβs not entirely untrue. In the name of preserving his reputation, Yuuga will more often than not go out of his way to do the more undesirable tasks people push onto him. He wouldnβt hurt anyone though, no way. Small tasks, like staying behind to help with festival preparations or filling in for the soccer club. Things like that, he can do. If you have an annoying chore to do and subtly mention how good itβd make him look, Yuuga will dive into that work with the grace of a swan. In other words, play it right and heβll be a total pushover.
The narcissist part is far from the truth though. Sure, heβs petty and image absorbed. Sure, he gives his hair a touch up whenever he passes a reflective surface. But Yuuga doesnβt think that highly of himself. He knows his faults, knows that all his popularity came from excessive amounts of behind the scenes work. He knows that unlike the natural extroverts and good-lookers in his clique, he needs to work hard to maintain his status. Because in high school, in this world of all-encompassing social media, reputation is everything. Average losers who donβt conceal their mediocrity behind smiles and sociable personalities fall behind. That canβt happen. Yuuga wonβt let that happen.
Skills:
Extensive knowledge of skincare products and routines. Barely above average grades and below average athletic ability, much to his chagrin. Godlike selfie game. Quite detail oriented. Proficient in kyudo, having done it since middle school, though his skills are nothing awe-inspiring. Fairly good at household chores such as laundry and cooking.
Equipment:
Smartphone, usually in his pants pocket. Apart from the standard school supplies, his schoolbag contains his glasses case with cleaning cloth, lip balm, comb, and selfie stick.
Soul Arts:
Grand Reversal: His Soul Art is inserted into the base of his neck, just above the sternum. Yuuga gains the ability to control or negate friction within a 10 meter radius. Applications of this ability can include making it easier to climb walls or rock faces, sending charging enemies slipping past, and making a dynamic and flashy entrance with Yuuga gracefully sliding into the scene.
Brief Backstory:
Yuuga was born to an infuriatingly average family, an only child with a stay-at-home mother and a salary-man father. Elementary school was⦠fine. He went through the usual motions, making a reasonable number of friends, trying out hobbies, thinking about girls. Nothing exceptional, nothing terrible. Life was a stagnant, horizontal line on a plane. Nothing ever stood out. He wouldn't have been able to accept it if he never became more than what he was destined to always be, if the rest of his life was a death sentence of relentless mediocrity. So he rewrote himself.
A look in the mirror told him that he was pretty alright-looking. With some hard work he could turn it, himself, into something spectacular. He started grooming himself, taking care of his diet and face. He joined the kyudo club. He started talking more, laughing to jokes that werenβt all that funny but made the others feel like laughing was the right thing to do. And it worked. People, girls even, started noticing him. Eating lunch with him. Inviting him to group chats and karaoke hangouts. It was everything heβd dreamed. So he continued the hard work.
By the time high school rolled around, Yuuga had successfully cemented his place in the popular cliques. Keeping up with social media was the only sensible thing to do in his position so joining Strange Gospel was a given. Of course, heβd dropped it once all that creepy stuff started happening. But with the disappearances connected to that cursed app happening around him, Yuuga canβt help be feel spooked. Already, heβd heard news of distant friends of friends going missing. Would he or someone he knew be next?
Name: James Xiao Also Known As: Family call him Jam, a cheeky bastardisation of his English given name due to his parentsβ strong Chinese accents. In his prime the media dubbed him βBoomerβ, a nickname he absolutely despises. Birthdate: March 26, 1981 Place of Origin: Shanghai, China Ethnicity: Chinese. Australian nationality. Gender: Male Height: 186.4 cm / 6'1.4" Weight: 75.2 kg / 165.8 lbs Laterality: Ambidextrous. Plays with his left but eats with his right. Occupation: Retired professional tennis player Marital Status: "...It's complicated." (Single. He's very single.)
Appearance: Upon first glance, James seems to have an air of regal and stoic confidence about him. A piercing glare, manly jaw and tall stance has the former athlete exuding power to those around him. His resting expression is a rather unimpressed look he tries not to direct at anyone, lest they think he's about to berate them or something along those line. His hair is dark and thick, styled into a short cut that looks equal parts expensive and casual. James possesses a mildly tanned complexion and strong build, though he has been getting slightly flabby on his stomach. However, underneath all the aesthetic qualities his fitness has granted him, James is actually a pretty plain guy. His casual attire consists of a dress or polo shirt, jeans and dark dress shoes.
Synopsis: Winner of seven Grand Slam tournaments in his career, the former world No. 1's reputation has deteriorated over past few years. His prime was reached about ten years prior to Bonaparte's invitation. After becoming one of the few athletes in the world to achieve a Career Golden Slam, the fans and media began noticing aggravation and recklessness in his behaviour. Countless controversies both on and off the court dragged his image through the mud. A sudden back injury finally put his floundering career out of his misery almost three years ago and since then, the Boomer has been wallowing spending his days maxin' relaxin' by the sunny shores of Monaco. James now languishes in his wealth, coming off to others as a stern, antisocial and bitter man.
Notes:
Fluent in English and Mandarin. His high school level French is barely passable but he can hold a conversation if he concentrates.
Blood type is A-.
Voice can become extremely loud when agitated, hence his nickname 'Boomer'.
Personality: At his core, James is a disciplined individual. His belief that success comes from constant, hard work has been supported by the outcomes in his life. Physical exertion and perseverance is something he deals with easier than most. From his clothing to his demeanor, the former athlete exudes a strong sense of quiet and controlled dignity. On the surface James is cool and collected, someone who makes a good figurehead. He is a man who sticks to his ideals, or so he tries to tell himself. In reality, James is someone who is rather easily swayed by material pleasures and hedonistic tendencies. It is a vice he takes great shame in, and tries desperately to cover up. James can be impulsive when provoked and quick to anger, though these traits only emerged during his period of collaboration with Oren. His rage is easily drawn out in times of great stress, something that was demonstrated to the world in his more one-sided matches. He loses most of his sensibility in his anger and is more likely to be a liability than a productive teammate or helper. James exists in a cycle of self-loathing and yearning for self-improvement. Constant introspection has yielded no solutions to his emotional and mental weakness mentioned above. Rather than improve his mentality, it has made obvious more flaws and weaknesses in his temperament, inciting an increasingly miserable image of himself. He takes great measure to hide both this shame and this weakness, hence his gruffness and clipped words when it comes to socialisation. He is afraid of how the world will see him, of how anyone he may or may not come to care about will reject him due to this weakness. The result of this thinking is a subconscious impulse to keep others distant and forcibly shove them away if necessary. However, this habit is rarely provoked. James does a fine job of treating others with respect and pleasantries. After getting past the first few conversations with the man, people generally view him as a stoic big brother type. He can crack a few jokes from time to time but taking one is a whole other manner, especially if the jokes are concerning his more embarrassing moments from his past. He works hard to uphold the image of reliability, no matter how easily compromised it is. If people are satisfied with his agreeable exterior, hopefully they won't feel the need to dig deeper and see the pathetic failure inside.
Biography: James' potential as a sportsman was discovered at the age of seven, during a day spent with his cousins at the tennis court. The development of his skills couldn't solely be attributed to his innate talent. For the most part it was the ability to stick to routine, the act of self-discipline and constantly pushing himself to his limits. He saw what wanted, what he was good at. And he was going to take it. He was going to cling to it with both hands and he was never going to let go. His senior debut came after an incredibly successful five years in the junior circuits. James Xiao took the sporting world by storm, winning countless competitions as well as the admiration of countless fans around the world. It was around this time that his rather irreputable maternal uncle, Oren, arrived at the Xiao residence from Hong Kong after years of almost no contact. News of James' success, and bountiful earnings, had brought him over to Australia. James' parents warned the young man of Oren's questionable motives, citing his debauchery and rumoured ties to the Triads as reasons to keep him out of their lives. But James was easily persuaded by the uncle. He was introduced to a world of wealth and hedonism, guided by Oren all the way. Fast cars, beautiful women, questionable narcotics, James and Oren indulged in it all. At first it was easy to blow these escapades off as trips to Hong Kong to visit family. Then Oren initiated the second part of his plan. The rumours of Oren's Triad connections had been true. James entered a darker world than anything he'd ever seen before, including a worldwide gambling racket Oren wanted some assistance with. It was simple: lose when ordered to and James would be compensated dearly. At first it was only occasional games in lower profile competitions. Then they got bigger. James' apparent ability on the court noticeably deteriorated. And all the while, James bore the shame and guilt of such self-serving behaviour. He tried to leave it once, only once. The guns pointed to his head and Oren's sly smile made it clear that leaving wasn't an option. So that guilt turned to frustration, and frustration needed an outlet. James Xiao changed. He became a drunk, a sleaze, a sore loser. And a shockingly divergent player. There were days when the skill from his prime shone fantastically and days when he played like a blind amputee. And all the while, his behaviour off-court became increasingly horrendous. It reached a peak when his car was found wrapped around a tree. He'd miraculously survived without any major injuries. His girlfriend, on the other hand, was hospitalised for weeks, leaving the public eye and only emerging months later with a notable prosthetic leg. He would never forgive himself for this. After the accident Oren was finally confronted by James in his Hong Kong villa. All his rage, all his frustration was thrown at the man who started all this. In the end, Oren succumbed to blunt force trauma, beaten to death by James' bare hands, while James was hospitalised with a severe back injury from the struggle. He would never play professionally again. The Triads and gambling racket had no further use for him and James finally found the escape he was looking for. But the damage had been too much. With a hefty payout, James was able to convince Oren's superiors to help him cover up the murder. Of course, he'd have to live in fear of them one day asking him to repay that debt. So far that day hasn't arrived. It would have been easy to just blame it all on circumstance. To curse Oren and his snakish words. To have told himself that the Triads were too omniscient for him to have won against. But none of these would have been the truth. James knew that when it came down to the barest bones of the situation, it was his own weakness that had brought everything in his world crashing down. Everything that went wrong in his life was his own fault and he could do nothing but live in shame for the rest of his days. Now James resides in the sunny land of Monaco, tossing his cash about and wallowing in his regrets, all under the guise of "finding himself".
Wish: The erasure of his past mistakes. Assurance that no one will ever find out about the murder and various other foolish acts towards the end of his career.
Secrets:
His ties with the triad which remain to this day.
The true demise of his uncle.
Permanently disabled his former girlfriend, Claire. A late night high-speed drive had resulted in his nice Lamborghini getting wrapped around a tree. With the help of his contacts, James was able to escape the media's notice but the girlfriend needed to have the lower part of her left leg amputated. She still receives frequent payments to keep her mouth shut.
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