The Striker Team Waits
Chris | Callan | Sander
𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕎𝕚𝕚𝕤𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕕, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟 / / ~𝟙𝟟𝟘𝟘
Collab with @Baklava @Dragonmancer @RedDuskOnce on the ground, Chris walked behind the truck to begin his transformation. He didn't bother removing his sweat pants or t-shirt once he had started the process, but he had hoped that the 'new' transformation process could spare him his clothes.
It didn't.
Callan made her way over to Sander, holding her own bundle of equipment as well as his. Tearing her eyes away from the lifeless bodies, she did her best to shake the negative thoughts out of her mind before addressing her teammates.
"
Hey Sander-- heads up! You forgot your stuff!" she said, tossing his backpack of equipment towards him.
Sander caught the backpack in his arms, blinking in surprise –“
What stuff?” -He quirked an eyebrow at Callan.
"
Your... wishalloy?" Callan answered, starting to open her own pack. "
And helmet."
“
I don’t need them.” -Sander only shrugged, walking over to Callan and offering the backpack back to her.
Callan reached out to take it back. An automatic reflex. She stared at him in utter confusion. "
What?" she frowned.
“
I don’t need them.” -Sander repeated firmly.
"
You... what?" she shook her head and furrowed her brow before pushing the bag towards him again. "
You need to put this on."
“
It’s…my power. I told you.” -Sander pushed back –“
I don’t need them.”
"
No," Callan answered firmly, pushing back again, "
You should still put it on."
“
Uh…” -Sander hesitated, frowning slightly before pushing right back –“
…you should put it on.”
"
Wh--" Callan gawked. Why wouldn't he put it on? She didn't care how invincible he was. It was meant to protect them and if he somehow needed it, however unlikely, it was a good idea for him to have it. She talked through her teeth as she pushed back again, "
I already have a set."
“
You should…wear more. For protection. Please.” -Sander still protested, but he let Callan push the backpack in his arms –“
I don’t need it. Armor will just fall apart, right? There’s no point.”
“
Trust me on this.” -He insisted, voice soft –“
Or if you don’t, trust the power. It never fails.”
Arms outstretched, Callan still held the bag, but frowned again. She wanted to trust him. She really did. But she couldn't shake this feeling that he should take the equipment. No matter how confident he was in his power. "
Please take it," she said, dropping her hands to her side, "
Just in case something... weird happens." She knew about weird things happening. How it felt to have your ability suddenly pulled away from you-- manifesting into something else entirely. Something you couldn't control.
“
Something weird?”
"
I don't know," Callan rolled her eyes, "
I just... I think you should wear it. Just in case you need it. Please?"
Sander sighed, looking down at the backpack in his arms. He eventually retrieved the clear material, the ‘wishalloy’, and applied it on his bare torso, just like Callan requested. He left everything though –“
I’ll be fine…But thank you.” -He smiled, unsure how else to respond to Callan’s concern. As far as he knew, she didn’t need to. Strange. Like Christmas.
"
I know you'll be fine. But if there's a choice between extra fine and just fine-- I'd prefer the former. Thank you." Relieved, Callan smiled as Sander finally consented. But her relief didn't last long. She pursed her lips unhappily upon noticing the four neglected pieces. She stared expectantly, hands on her hips.
“
This is…enough?” -Sander raised an eyebrow, the look of confusion returning.
She tilted her head and rolled her eyes again. Such persistence. With so much danger and so much riding on her and Sander and Chris... why was he acting this way?
"
You trying to prove something?" she frowned, shrugging one shoulder. She shook her head in disbelief, still trying to make sense of it.
“
I…uh…No.” -Callan looked rather irritated, and Sander wasn’t quite sure what he had done wrong –“
I just…trust my power, I suppose.” -He fumbled, getting the words out even when they didn’t really make sense in his head.
At a loss, Callan hesitated to respond. Trusting in yourself was supposed to be a good thing. She couldn't say how big of a difference there was between trusting in oneself and one's power, but... She thought back to their sparring match, in spite of Sander explaining he'd basically allowed her to win. A bloodied Sander that could barely talk and yet still managed to profess he was 'fine'. She wasn't buying it.
"
Ok," she said, almost defeatedly. Dropping her own backpack on the ground, she stepped towards him wordlessly, pointing to the discarded pieces of his wishalloy and holding out her hand, beckoning with her fingers.
Confusion still etched on his features, but Sander complied.
Singling out one piece, Callan handed him back the three. "
Arm," she said, beckoning again.
Sander lifted his arm toward Callan, and to his surprise, she began to wrap the material around him –“
W-Wha?” -The words were barely out of his mouth when Callan began to work the other arm. This level of concern confused him. He didn’t expect it from Christmas, and he most certainly didn’t expect it from Callan, who had been to there to feel the extent of his power firsthand. Why did they care? He was probably
the same thing as whatever they were fighting. And he couldn’t even get hurt. What use did he have for concern?
It confused him, like that promise. But if this was Callan wanted…
He took the two remaining pieces that Callan offered and wrapped them around his thighs, completing the armor she insisted on him. With than done, he glanced up tentatively, the look of surprise and confusion lingered –“
Thank you.” -He still managed a grateful smile though. Because she really didn’t have to care.
Stepping back, Callan surveyed her handiwork as it quickly conformed to Sander's shape, smoking red. She locked her eyes on his for a moment before breaking into a smile of her own.
"
Don't thank me," she scoffed, facing her bag and unzipping her hoodie, revealing a black tank top underneath with a red-orange basketball insignia on the front reading 'Westlake Werewolves 2019'. "
Just don't be an idiot. And hold this." She held her hoodie towards him as she pulled her own wishalloy out of her pack.
Applying the fabric to her limbs and torso, she looked back towards the rest of the group. "
They're all counting on us...," she said, managing an uncertain smile, "
We've gotta be at 110%."
“
You’re worried?”
"
Aren't you?"
“
Not about…”
killing “
…real fighting.” -Sander let his gaze drifted off into the distance, where the horizon was marred by jagged edges of broken buildings.
Callan sighed, following his gaze for a moment before looking back at the others. "
What about them?" Looking back to Sander, her face twisted with concern, "
They've got armor, too, but--" She sighed away the rest of the sentence and shook her head. This wasn't helping. She needed to focus on her task. She had little trust in the school's concern for her friends as people, but surely they'd crafted this plan with the intention of preserving them as resources. Why else would they be put on this special team?
"
Anyway," Callan continued, "
What's our plan once we get out there? Any ideas?"
“
Plan?” -Sander really didn’t have any. Then again, there was no place for a ‘plan’ once his bloodhigh got going –“
I…We just fight the Factory?”
"
Ha," Callan chuckled, taking his response as more of a joke. Sounded a lot like a plan she'd come up with. "
Well, Kardos said to take out the lower limbs while Chris distracts it. Between the three of us, that should be easy. Right, big guy?" Callan caught sight of Chris out of the corner of her eye, turning enough to include him in the conversation as he approached.
The black scaled beast strode its body over to his squad. Chris stretched his wings which were still cramped from being recently transformed. The arbiter lowered his head to listen into their conversation. He couldn't speak, but he could at least understand what they were strategizing.
On the topic of strategy, the arbiter had an idea. Since he couldn't communicate verbally, the tip of the dragon's tail arced over to the dirt between them. It carved out a crude drawing of two figures, a giant, himself, and a serpent. The drawing illustrated the two stick figures pushing on the left foot of the giant, while the dragon was dragging the serpent around the ankles of their target. His tail helped guided his point in hopes they'd understand what he was conveying.
Sander looked slightly alarmed as the dragon approached. He knew who was beneath the monstrous form, but this concern wasn’t for his benefit. It was for the other boy. Chris had made it very clear how he felt about Sander, so the blood mage backed away a few steps, figuring that it would be the best solution for now. Same team or no, he would just stay out of Chris’ way.
Callan tied her hair as she watched Chris drew in the damp dirt between them.
"
Hmm." Finished, she rubbed her chin and tilted her head, stepping next to the massive dragon that was her teammate. Besides the wings, he'd gotten bigger. She brushed aside the thought in favor of deciphering Chris's crude drawings.
"
So... you want us to use that big snake thing to trip up Factory?" she said finally. "
That could work, couldn't it? That thing looks pretty unsteady. Once it falls over, Sander and I could bum rush the center."
The dragon attempted a nod as it stood upright. His eyes watched the sky to study the atmosphere.
"
You sure you can outfly it?"
Chris looked to Callan and attempted a nod, in truth he wasn't entirely sure, but he couldn't of a way to communicate that.
The motion resembled enough of a nod for Callan to take it as such. Callan looked to Sander for some sort of confirmation that he liked Chris's idea, but he said nothing, only holding her gaze. Not entirely out of character for him. With a sigh, she pulled her helmet on, accommodated by the low ponytail she'd tied at the nape of her neck.
"
Alright, well-- I guess that's that then." She rose one fist in the air half heartedly and waved a small, imaginary flag. "
Go Stiker Team..." she said, lacking some enthusiasm, before fishing the special phone out of her bag. Folding her arms and watching as the other teams took their leave, a frown settled onto her expression as she listened. Fearing the worst and hoping for the best.
When Callan attempted her cheer Chris tried to back up her confidence with an almost bipedal stance and a roar following her command, as if he was trying to make it even more cheesey then it already was.
Once the pose was done, he lowered himself back down and folded his wings.
"
And now we wait...."
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