Kaithas — Roleplayer Guild

youtube.com/watch?v=1YAT5xpRegg

	Shadows, formless shapes drifted across Amy's half closed eyelids, the distant din of battle humming in her ears. Shapeless pain flowed around her limbs, the threat of agony if she moved an inch, a pressure on her right arm. Voices whispered faraway cries, names, pleas. Ben. Lauren. Get up.
	Spike. 
	Throb. 
Hurt.
	Something poking in her lower back. She shifted, and was rewarded with a scream running through her nerves. Another excruciating jolt electrified her body, one that shocked her awake. Her eyes spasmed open, revealing the rubble of a destroyed building around her, trapped Grimm disintegrating as rocks shifted and crushed them.
	To say this mission had gone badly would be an understatement. She groggily pulled herself to her feet, the ache in her back receding as the sharp rock she'd fallen on was removed... but the rest of her body flared up in protest at the movement, even as she wiped bits of ash out of her eyes and tapped on her BASteeLs in an effort to check—nope, no good. The right lens spluttered to life, her aura gauge so far down in the red that it was nearly concealed by the frowning face of Lauren that served as a status symbol and general indicator of Lauren's mood toward whatever Amy was doing in the corner.
Where... where were they?
	The left was too shattered to function, only offering a short fzzzzt of life before sparking out permanently. A deep sigh that turned into a gasp of pain. Yep, ribs were at least bruised. The Fury's left sleeve was still mostly in working order—low on ammunition, but at least functional—but the pushing on her arm was a large dent in the side of her sleeve, preventing the chain from retracting, at least part of the low sound around her the engine trying vainly to pull the spear back into its slot. She reluctantly slid it off, letting it clatter to the ground.
7 shots, a shield, and a pair of badly damaged glasses against who knows how many Grimm. Her captain and her lover were out there somewhere too, but who knows what shape they'd be in or what she'd have to do to stop–
	Stop. Calm down.
	At times like these, Amy really wished she'd had an actual stiletto rather than stiletto heels.
OH. WELL.
	She limped out of her personal pile of smoldering rock. Maybe she was just the unlucky one and the others had managed to destroy the rest of the Grimm they'd been sent to eliminate–
	“GRRRRRRRR.”
	“Take it down, Jarvis,” she muttered to the non-existent AI of her rapidly decaying glasses. “New record for hopes being dashed.” She bit her lower lip.
Beowulf. Under normal circumstances, nothing she hadn't fought before. Of course, normal circumstances didn't usually involve Aura and Fury-less combat. Amy's shield clattered slowly out as she prepared her battered body for a fight that most first years could breeze through. Perks, though, the Fury was so low on ammunition it wouldn't have to rotate to fire.
	Always gotta find that silver lining.
	The creature charged, snapping out for the grime covered skin of Amy's neck, getting a mouthful of far nastier steel instead. Even better, it knew she was weak and was trying to finish her quickly. It was forcing her back, gnashing at the metal, knocking her down, onto her back, pushing closer to her face—then the screech of overtaxed gears and her forearm was spun to be aligned with the canine's face, the shield rotating even as the cannon warmed up, letting off two sharp cracks. The monster slumped, then shattered into air. 
	Well, there went shots one and two. She pushed herself quickly to her feet again. #### the mission, #### the objective. She needed her team, she needed... Staying here was a death sentence. Amy pushed herself into a limping run, ignoring the protests of her joints and muscles. C'mon, Amy, you've had harder weekends than this...
	Three and four joined their brothers in another pair of explosions, taking out two more Beowulfs, probably drawn to the sound of her murdering the first. Sangue was safe, she'd been assigned to guarding the stronghold in the center of this damn village. Which meant Amy had two priorities, codenamed Beauty and the Beast. Assign whichever name to whichever person, it fit differently depending on the day. And the mood. And whether or not Ben had recently been to the salon. Yeah, he said barbershop. But you don't get lashes that great at SportClips.
	Back to the task at hand. Two, missing. Amy kept pushing herself, getting as close to a sprint as she could in her condition, looking desperately through the ruins for any part more damaged than the rest, maybe the result of fighting or a struggle—and an explosion echoed out from her left, a sound she rushed to, even as a battle weary Benjamin Lloyd finished dispatching a few Grimm with a single swipe from Caletfwlch, brothers 5 and 6 disintegrating the one creature he missed. She probably could have only used one slug, but if she'd missed and he'd been–Ben's aura was even lower than hers, and his slashes had become more of a desperation game as she'd rushed to him, that final blast of power in his sweep his ultimate gambit.
	“Cap,” she yelled, running to him as he slumped against the wall of the building, hugging him and—for whatever reason—kissing him on the cheek, then shaking her head. “Where's Lauren,” she gasped, ignoring the quick chirp of “right here!” from the small pixelated version on her glasses and the subsequent mute scolding for “kissing other girls”. Why that feature existed, she'd never know.
	Ben grimaced, though rather it was from physical or mental pain she couldn't tell, her ice blue eyes focused right into his. “Ugly bastards separated us.” Despite his exhaustion, Ben's face twisted into a wry grin. “She actually went looking for you, then they showed up,” he added. “North. Evac's on the way, they're bringing enough fire to–”
	As Amy dashed off, Ben was left being the most levelheaded member of his team once again.
	She had to find her. Had to. Smoldering, evacuated ruins were practically the antithesis of the resident hype machine... And find her she did. Middle of what used to be the town square, facing off against three more of the creatures that infested this burning heap, sitting against a stone wall. Judging by the unnatural bend of her leg and that her axe was in ballista form... She'd used it to escape from their clutches, and was still using it to pick them off. Another BOOM and one of the Grimm went down, but they were advancing too fast, and by the expression on her face Lauren was... Oh, God.
	Amy's semblance ramped, the world slowing more and more as she brought her arm up and bit her lower lip, praying to God, Zeus, Odin and the lucky number seven shell she had loaded. Her vision zoomed in, locking, locking, locking, closer, lining up her shot—and her own explosion joined the chorus of roars, the sound coming almost painfully slowly as her final bullet sped out of her cannon, the Grimm looking up just in time to have whatever its head splattered... And the round kept flying, shattering the other Grimm perfectly—just in time for a final boom from Lauren's crossbow, dusting a monster about to jump Amy from behind.
	And the dismount hit, her adrenaline high receding as she pushed herself for one more sprint, to Lauren's side, collapsing to the ground next to her. “Cap said that Evac is on its way. God, I was so worried-”
	A small voice started speaking quickly, “She kissed him on the cheek, she k–”
	Amy hurled the BASteeLs across the square, the already shattered frames clattering to the ground a ways away. “####ing glasses.”
	"Typical...hooker committing a fashion crime...owww."
	“Oh, hush. I didn't kiss him like this,” she said, smirking, before her lips met Lauren's for a long time, but not quite long enough to satisfy her.
She was damn good at that.

***
youtube.com/watch?v=t_lW_HZ5XyU

	And as she rested against Lauren on the shuttle back, just waiting for the scolding they were going to  receive from Goodbitch for screwing up their final first year mission royally and the scolding she would personally receive for screwing up her BaSTeeLs., she glanced around at the other members of her team. Well, this was just the capstone on an excellent year. She'd screwed it up with Diamond, had nearly killed the person she owed the most to, had been chronically zoned-out during missions, missed her first one entirely, let Trad down, God... Let them all down...
	In spite of that...
	Amy still had them. A Cap she could count on and considered to be practically her best friend, not to mention all the others she could call friends now... She'd found a sister she didn't even know she had, and maybe one she wasn't even related to in Sangue, though the girl probably tired of her and Lauren's shenanigans... She had Lauren, who'd been with her practically all the way, despite all the problems that came with dating her and all the stuff she'd put her through... She was still beside the “hooker” who couldn't let go.
But now, between BASL and her new home... The way she worried about them, the way they dominated her mind when they were in danger... She could actually start to move on.

So... she'd finally nailed it.

Her hood was down, hair let loose for once, dirty armor reverted to its normal, non-camouflaged dark brown as her combat boots clunked against the floor of Beacon's halls, on the way toward the too-often full infirmary. The Sting was holstered in her room, assorted combat knives, explosives, and everything else in the armory. All she had was the Scroll built into the plating of her right forearm, which she was currently using to look over the summary of CODE's mission.

Despite herself, she chuckled slightly. Leave it to her to feel naked while wearing full combat armor. Traipsing around a school with a platoon's worth of weaponry was hardly appropriate behavior, especially given what the team had been through. Her lips spread into a slight frown of sympathy, but she still had to fight against going stony-faced when she entered the ward where Team Code had been ensconced. They're just kids, Rowan, not soldiers. She slid her gloves off, slowly, sticking them in her belt and sighing as she walked up to the cat Faunus and gently put her hand on her head, all of her movements slow and soft, looking into the girl's eyes. They were big, and green... And still trembled with fear. She smiled slightly, making a slight shhing sound. "It's okay," Rowan said softly, "you're safe now. I'm Rowan, Miss Vanhomrigh's..." she paused for a moment, thinking, then continued. "Boss, I guess. I'll be here until you actually feel that way. So... If you need me in any way, just call."

As Oswald and Cobalt spoke, she stayed still. Only her hand was in motion, just stroking Emerald's hair slightly before she finally turned away when he was finished. "Stay down," she said authoritatively, moving one step toward the reclining Hunter, even as her voice softened. "Your friend is right. You've been badly beaten and shot, so please... Rest. There'll be time for questions and talking later, but for now, you need to recover. They weren't grievers, but... we'll discuss them when you're closer to being on your feet."

She took a seat next to Esther, putting her arm around her and whispering "here for you too, Essie. So... Slow down, okay?"

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