It was a dizzying combo of melodies, strung together in a combination that was just effective enough that Tetrad, tumbling onto asphalt, made it away with only a half dozen bloody scrapes and bruises. Wounds that ached, but wounds that were superficial enough that it didn’t stop her from running up to the armored truck. Pit Boss’s arcane blasts shredded the door effortlessly, mundane materials lacking any intrinsic defense, and the Maverick esper was able to wrench open to door and finally lay eyes on her friend once more.
There she was, bound head to toe in a white straitjacket that was chained to the wall of the armored truck. Earmuffs, mouthgag, and a blindfold sealed off her senses, while the fact that she didn’t so much as twitch made it clear that something was done to sedate her during the trip. Most importantly, there was no sign of her grimoire anywhere near her. That made sense, of course. What better way to disarm a magical terrorist forever than to seal their grimoire up in a place they’ll never be able to find? It made interrogations easier, and it made negotiations easier.
And it didn’t matter either.
If Tetrad tore off the blindfold, she’d see her friend’s eyes still. Open. Unfocused. But moving. After all that, Jezebel was still alive.
But the world kept turning, and any sort of emotional reunion would have to wait until they actually got back. The Patriot was still stalled, perhaps a ‘play dead’ tactic employed by Lenny so her ride didn’t get absolutely obliterated by the chopper that was making its presence known now.
“Mavericks! Exit the truck untransformed! Do so and we will grant you a fair trial! Do not and we will turn you terrorist scum into Swiss cheese!”
@SilverPaw@Majoras EndNothing else seemed worthy of exploration, unless Timekeeper wished to try his hand at figuring out what was clogging up the toilet, and with Breacher’s summons, he soon reconvened with Leroux. It took some trial-and-error, as well as a whole lotta psyching up, for the young boy to follow her down the elevator shaft, but they descended in a safe manner, popped open the elevator, and joined their leader at the barricade of bedframes. It really was a strange fortification, in truth. One that seemed wholly ineffectual against monsters, and one that would likely be destroyed in moments with a couple melodies from an Esper. Outside of simply being a matter of ‘wasting’ mana, what was this supposed to be? A way to slow them down? A way to keep them guessing?
Breacher continued to swat, and then, there was a response.
A quiet click sounded. A gun being cocked on the other side.
A man’s voice, measured though lined with fatigue and resignment, resounded.
“Hello. Would it be too much to ask you three to leave and report that there was…nothing to see?”
@The World@Ponn@ERodeThere were a lot of creative ways to put out a fire. You could smother it in some non-flammable compound, use an explosion to rob the flame of oxygen, extinguish it with water, and even patting and rolling out fires worked, or enter a vacuum. The reason why all of these methods work is because they deprive a flame of oxygen, heat, or fuel. No matter how much wind surrounded Marrie or Ashley, there was still plenty for the fire to
burn. Their damp bodies did little to slow the expanding flames especially with the swirling winds drying them off. The extra oxygen being fed into the fire didn’t help either. But It’s hard to think when you’re in a panic.
Ashley managed.
Maybe it was her GEMINI training, her college tuition, common sense, or a mix of all three. Her instincts forced her to bring both espers to the floor. The water was only a few inches deep, but a quick roll was all it took to extinguish the flames. Neither esper had suffered any lasting damage, and had survived Sofron’s trap.
Though nothing had been done to keep the pressure off of Klava.
A lesser esper would panic in Klava’s position. The barrel of Sofron’s shotgun was leveled with Klava’s torso, while an able tonfa fighter crouched between two countertops, no doubt preparing for a counter attack
pun intended With only a moment to act, she let her experience guide her.
The volley of shotgun pellets graazed Klava. Sofron continued to approach, casting aside the SPAS-12 so that he could better hold his machine gun. But it didn’t matter. His distance to her, Klava’s poison, she could have been wearing concrete shoes. With a single melody, she had made herself slick and jetted down the hall towards the other opponent. The rodent woman anticipated the play, and brought her tonfas up to block the attack moments before Klava blasted towards her. When held the correct way, Tonfas are remarkably compact, functionally closer to gauntlets or bracers. But regardless if she had enough room to
punch Klava, it would be hard to do so while she was
falling backwards. Kneeling is a weak position in a fight, and Klava was ready to exploit it.
The rodent fell on her back, and Klava was upon her
She tried to defend herself, but it was already too late. Klava pinned one of the squirrel woman’s arm against her chest. One stick to deflect one knife? In this economy? Rodent girl was just delaying the inevitable.
The knife bit into her flesh. Her face tensed up in pain as Moya-no-Yume dug under her collar bone. Killing was seldom Klava’s first choice, but when the goal was to survive, to complete your mission, to be a professional, your personal wants didn’t come into the picture. But as the blade sunk deeper into the enemy esper’s chest, she could vaguely make out something being yelled behind her head. Mail flip? Rail nip? Hail rip?
Oh, Bale Whip.
With a crack, Her shoulder felt hot, no, her flesh was
boiling. When Klava turned to look, she could see a burning whip rip through her shoulder, severing her arm from her body. A splash of crimson on her face that just lasted a moment before it was washed away. Without Klava’s weight behind the strike, Moya-no-Yume ceased to sink deeper into the rodent woman’s shoulder. A normal melody took roughly a second to fire off, but some espers could
quicken their melodies, which was the only reason the rodent woman was still alive, and Klava’s shoulder smelled like barbecue. It was a shame Klava had no backup at this critical moment.
With a growl, the rodent woman rammed her tonfa into Klava’s ribs, cracking one and throwing her away with the force of a melody. More than the sudden push, she could feel the toxicity in her body increase. While she had felt a bit ill before, it now felt like her blood vessels were tingling, itchy even. Klava’s armless, instrumentless body came to rest a few feet in front of Sofron.
"I can handle this, May." May didn’t waste time on another pun. With a grunt, she pulled the knife out of her chest and flung it into the kitchen, which was filling up with water. She was bleeding, but Klava’s stab wasn’t deep enough to reach her vitals. She was dizzy with pain, and would need to be healed sooner or later, but she could still be a threat. Though the real threat to Klava was Sofron, who was approaching the esper to crown her with his machine gun. Without her knife, it was only a matter of time before she returned to her normal mundane self.
But she had one second, at least that.
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