Phoe

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

"You!"

Errant doesn't drop out of her fighting stance when the first armored behemoth turns on the second. She doesn't relax when she hears the voice and does the math. Hell, she doesn't even move when Sabrem shows her back and the blinking bomb counting down her life, other than to clench her fists so tight her fingers start to hurt.

It's the strangeness of that sensation that saves her. A month ago and she might have gotten stuck in the memory. As it is, she's able to stand straight again and merely feel an unpleasant dip in her stomach and a hard line of fire beating through her heart. Her eyes are so wide they hurt. Her teeth grind audibly. All she can manage are sharp, unpleasant breaths through her nose. Move, Euna. You have to move.

No, you don't. You don't owe this bitch her life twice over! It's not even your fault. Walk away. Just walk away, and she pays. You're not doing it. You're just not saving her. That's it. That's all. It's justice! It's the thing you fucked up last time!

There's a dull thwack and an angry hiss as Errant elbows herself in the stomach. Idiot. Moron! She takes a deep breath to try and calm herself, but it's pointless: she's already reaching out and detaching plating to reach the complex mass of wires promising the death of the woman she hates more than anybody on earth.

"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffs, "You're not a hero yet."

What a strange sensation. Normally in these moments her skillwires are such an out-of-body experience she can't help but feel like her arms belong to someone else, which leads her to the nasty point of contemplation that, legally, they probably do. Or did. It doesn't feel like that anymore. Even though her brain is doing just as little to guide the delicate motions of defusing a bomb as it ever has, the sensations coming from her fingers are real, are vibrant, are... warm. It's her. She's doing this. It's a choice that she made, and she's doing this with her own body.

Suddenly, she can't find her anger anymore. It's not... it's not forgiveness, not it's exactly, it's... it's complicated. It's moving on. Moving forward.

"This does not make us even. So don't even think about pulling any of that Hac Tao bullshit on me, got it? Just because AEGIS rotted out from underneath me doesn't mean I believe what I said last time any less. So just... be good, god damn it."

...God damn it, Euna Kim. You are lame.

[Defend: 8. Errant will officially take Influence on Sabrem and expose herself to danger]

Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

If this were really a game like Eupheria insisted it was, Mittens might be happy to see that nobody here was really managing any better than she was. It'd be pretty reasonable, you know? This is humiliating enough without having to look around the room and realize she's the farthest gone of anyone. But... like this? Looking around, thinking about how she feels, how she looks? Deciding that she might actually be holding up the best of anyone?

It feels awful. It's not even a comfort to see Eska or Azora as changed as they are. They're still Kazelia's sisters, after all. Whatever jerks they might be, they deserve better than to have their chance at grow-- erm, their chance at being better people taken away from them so they can amuse Eupheria for a little while. She has to fix this. It's all on Mittens' pretty kitty shoulders. She can't see how it's not. Not with Kazelia looking so... crippled. Not with Adila being, oh whiskers, why is she so? Eurgh. Dog. Not with...

Her breath catches. No!

Mittens doesn't really walk so much as sashay anymore. It's not her fault! Her paws feet demand prancing! Her hips demand swaying! Her tail demands swishing! Her suit demands flaunting! Please, oh please don't take this as a sign she's trying to flaunt herself right now! Don't think she's enjoying this! It's awful! It's... it's...

Deep breaths, Mittens. She reaches the tables. She stares at Azora and watches her greedily stuff her cheeks with that haughty look still somehow stuck on her stupid jerk face. She rolls her crystal eyes, the only part of her that feels completely herself anymore. She grabs two plates of sandwiches and keeps walking. Forward, forward. Ok careful now, careful. Do not get dogged. Do not. Get! She sets the first tray down on the ground. Then she reaches out her hand, carefully.... caaaaarefully... she stretches her hand as far out away from her as she can while at the same time pivoting to her side and tentatively pulling her leg up like she's about to hop away onto a table or something. And like this, reaching out and shrinking back in equal measure, she manages to give Adila the slightest of pats on the nose.

Oh Adila. She's so sorry for yelling. She's so sorry for everything. You have to understand, please. A-and don't lick her! Don't! D-down, girl! Rivers.

She carefully sidesteps closer to the hug pile. She holds out the tray of sandwiches to share with everyone with hands. She watches the woman who is very definitely not Eupheria, and she gulps.

"...Momma?" it's more of a question than she means for it to be.

"Momma!" she tries again. More insistent. Confident. Does she catch a spark of recognition.

Mittens smiles, showing off her pointy kitten teeth. Her tail flicks carelessly this way and that, and her wi-- little lavender triangles twitch on her head, begging for attention. She picks up a sandwich and forces it into Isolde's hand.

"Please, you have to eat. We're going to make it out of this, ok? We're going home, Momma. You and me. To see Mom and Free, and Jess, and we're all going to have the biggest hug and the best dinner ever. As many fish as-- you know what I mean. I promise. I... I promise. So, so, so promise me too, ok? Even if... even if you forget, I'll remember. I'll remember for both of us. Ok?"

She takes a bite of her sandwich, hoping to encourage Isolde to do it to. Her nose scrunches up. Asparagus soup?!?

[Mittens will Fill Her Belly and heal Sense. Unmarking her Wall spell]

Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

Yes! Yes!! YES! Mittens love she pretty dancer! Am hold! Am touch! Am wub, am scritch, am kiss kiss kiss kiss! Smell am so nice and jingle am so nice and taste am so nice and oh! Oh! OH!!!

"You are mine." she purrs and kisses Rita full on the lips. Deep, drowning in her, coming up only to give those pretty lips silly little licks before she dives back in again and puts her tongue to better uses.

You are mine. Her tongue dances with Rita's. You are mine. She kisses her cheek. You are mine. She nibbles an ear possessively. Mine. Kisses the neck. Mine! She uses her sharp little teeth. Mine, mine, mine! She leaves her little nibble marks all over. Her body slides down against her slave's. Up! And down again! It feels so good to glide and touch and feel her pretty suit dominate the silks! It feels so good to kiss her! It feels so good to put her paws in that rich, thick mane, to play with those ears, to feel hers get touched too, her eyes go all crossy and mew, mew, mew!!

...Did you know? The commonly accepted best cure for web viper venom is an extended makeout session. With an outlet to release all of the patient's amplified passions, the venom's hold on them will ebb much sooner than if left to their dream-hazed cocoons to let it run its course. Mittens, it so happens, received a rather larger dose than typical. So it takes her a while to come down from her staggering highs, but when she doooeees~

"R-Rita?! Rita is that you?" Mittens squeaks. Goodness, why is she so out of breath?

"Mmmmm?" Rita lazily blinks up at her, hair all a mess and lipstick smeared everywhere, "It's... yes! Yes, yes, oh Lina, you're ok!"

The name sends a jolt through her spine all the way to the tip of her little kitty tail. What is? Who's..? Isn't that... her? But she's... Mittens puts a paw to her-- no, no! She wiggles her fingers in front of her face. That's her hand! Her hand, for stormclouds' sakes! She's a princess! The Princess-Promised of Illumina! And that's Rita, who she's known since they both were kittens and she loves more than anyone in the world! And she... oh no. Oh, rivers.

"Oh Rita!" she squeaks. If she blushes any harder she might burst into flames, "I'm so sorry! I... I said all those things and--"

"N-no!" This is very bad, they're in a squeak-off. And a princess squeak-off can be a very long affair indeed, "I, um... I mean, darling, I..."

"I bit you!"

"I liked that..."

"And I made you--!"

"You made me..."

On and on and around it goes, unravelling the moment where Queen Mittens gave her slave girl such "inspired" orders, the moment where their tails got tangled together, the one where there was nothing but ear wubs and the very loudest purring every recorded and neither of them could see straight. The bit where... well, you get it. They're in love. And Mittens forgot that she had impaw... ergh! Important things to do! She blushes again and rolls to her feet with the kind of grace that only Alina Cascade could pull off. Whoever that is.

This is the first moment Rita can really behold her Mittens in the full glory of this (slightly dishevelled) suit. She's standing there, with her careless lavender curls tossed all about and a smile on her face that says the sun will rise again, and she will reach up and pluck it from the sky to be a treasure for her Askaian Flower, and those pants and her hips and that vest and... and... how could she be swooning? She's already lying down!!

Mittens laughs with a rogue's bravado and plucks her lovely princess up out of their little nest. Her arm wraps around that cute little waist just so, gives that round and perfect butt a squeeze, and flashes the most dazzling smile at Rita to match the most adorable squeak she gets for her reward. Pull her close, so close!

"We're late, you know. I don't know how much longer this maze goes on, but..."

"But we can handle it."

"Together."
"Together."

They kiss, properly this time, careful to savor the sensation of lips on lips and the smell of each other's hair and the softness of their fur. This is love. Unbreakable. Eternal. Don't you even try, Eupheria. Behind them, the web vipers finally break free from their tangled pile, but Mittens doesn't so much as spare them a glance as she lifts her hand to the sky and zips her happy Indigo beam back up to the stairwell, pulling the happy couple up with a zip and a thrill neither of them have felt since they were children robbing jewels from a Sphinx.

Mittens takes a moment to make sure Rita's outfit is on straight once they reach the stairs. Rita returns the favor. Neither of them is quite as thorough as they could be. But together, they race up the steps into whatever awaits them. Together.

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

Repelling is for people who aren't in a hurry. Errant's been running full tilt ever since the moment Commander Warren gave her her last order; she's only got one mode right now, and that's maximum overdrive. Flying in a helicopter to get here felt intolerably slow.

But at least it gave her a moment to clean up a little. She's still wearing her scuffed, red-tainted uniform, but the benefit of having Sara be your partner is that you're never far away from a makeup kit. All the tears and stains have been swept away into hard, edgy lines and powerful colors playing around her visor. She looks like a Valkyrie as she steps out into the air off of that helicopter and plunges down into the battle below.

Falling, hurtling, soaring. She's a shooting star. And she's silent, her lips pressed together in firm concentration. She's got Sara to handle the commentary right now, literally, right here riding on her shoulders. All her focus is on reaching the ground as quickly and smoothly as possible. Landing is a skill, did you know that? Errant smashes down with the force of a comet: left knee, right foot, left hand dragging a Spiral Corps goon to the ground by the head. Right hand reaching up to hold Sara by the waist, keeping her steady. She won't even feel the impact up there.

She stands quickly, swinging Sara off her shoulders and taking the time to give Victor the slightest of nods before she's off again. And then she's everywhere, and it feels all at once. A rising knee into one goon, a hard elbow into another. Snap, snap, snap! Roundhouse, uppercut, heel kick! This is so much easier than fighting a hangar full of TAGs and a pissed off Turbo Knight!

She touches ground again as light as a feather, spinning to a stop as she comes out of a hammer throw tossing one guy in a jetpack into a second Spiral thug lining up a rifle on the commentary booth. Errant whips her head around and up to look at the scoreboard. It obligingly shifts to show a forth team:

@SARAHPHIM

She tosses her hands up in protest. What is this? What the hell is this? It shifts again.

@SARAHKIM

Ok then. Goddamn right.

[Defend: 10. Errant adds a Team to the pool]

Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

"Ohhhhh, this is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is so obviously a trap you can't fool me Eupheria I know it's a trap I'm not going back down there I'm not I'm not I'm not."

Mittens hops onto her Violet and begins the slow, treacherous climb back down into the web viper pit.

It's not that she wants to! Every instinct in her brain is screaming at her that there's nobody to actually save down here. Except for Indigo. Which means that every instinct in her heart is screaming at her that she has to go anyway. Plus? She owes it to this fantastic suit to at least act a little bit like the heroine it was so obviously meant for. Hop, hop, hop. It's easier going down than up, at least. Don't have to jump as high, anyway. But still... whis-- er, rivers. Rivers is what she meant.

She takes a second at the bottom to try and steady her breathing (no such luck) before carefully! Gingerly stepping back onto the ground so she can reshape Violet into a pair of fabric scissors. It's really hard, delicate work finding the right balance between sharpness to cleanly snip the threads without risking hurting anyone who might be cocooned inside. That's maybe less important while she's just freeing Indigo, but it's better to get this right now than having to adjust the shape of her working on the next victim, who might for all she knows be made of soft, squishy flesh like she is. She works feverishly, sticking her tongue out a little bit as she focuses all her concentration on cutting away at the threads until... come one! Finally! They start falling away with a satisfying plink-plink-plink noise. She reaches out to pluck the crystal free and hugs it to her chest, knowing better than to cheer out "aha!" or anything stupid like that.

She hears a noise behind her: a soft slithering and an excited hiss. Her pointy ears twitch on top of her head and bend to catch the sound better. Ok yeah, they're really close, but she... wait, what? She reaches up to put a hand on top of her head even as she stands and spins around to face the web vipers like a properly sexy hero should, and sure enough she feels an adorable fuzzy triangle flatten under her palm. Well... catnip. At least Rita would be excited.

The news from her eyes is honestly even worse. This is a full pit: there's at least seven fully grown vipers down here, and every one of them in front of her favors a different shade of the rainbow on its scales. Eupheria really does not do things by halves, she realizes. Shaking, Mittens shapes both of her lights into a pair of lightly pronged snake-catchers (long sticks with a loop on the end to keep control of them at the head). They fan out around her and rise up to full height. The red one is taller than she is! Mittens whimpers, her ears pressing flat against her head even as her tail bushes out and readies for a fight.

Hiss hiss, hiss!

Suddenly, the vipers relax. What's going on?

Hiss, hiss!

It's Snakerchief! The little fellow must be thanking her for carrying them in her mouth for so long, and giving them such a beautiful pocket to preen in after. The vipers seem positively docile now! Oh thank you, thank you little snakerchief! Thank you so m--

The yellow one sinks its fangs into her shoulder. Then the green one bites her arm. Orange gets her right on her little kitty butt! Mittens feels woozy almost instantly, and slowly sinks to her knees as her lights unmeld and zip like little cowards into her vest pocket. She's got just enough clarity left to notice the snakerchief nodding its little head happily before slithering up her arm to coil up inside her mouth again. You... little... traitor... you, y-you... mmmmmmmmmf~

Th-the red one is wrapping itself around her and it f-feeeeeellllsssss, mmmm!! Ssssoooo goooooodddd. Oh please, oh please, o-oh p-p-pleeaaassssee, mmmmph, mmmph~ Mittens' crystal eyes roll to the back of her head and she moans with no sense of shame or embarrassment as she's covered in the delicious feeling of snake after snake after snake coiling around her and trapping her in their multicolored web of doom. The only reason she even wriggles is to feel the sensation of the strands pressing up against her on her little kitty thighs and her cute kitty butt and her silly kitty back and eep! It's in her little kitty ears!

It's a minute, maybe two, and all she is is a wriggling rainbow lump on the ground, dreaming the most wonderful dreams and lazily trying to remember why it was she hadn't wanted this to happen. Her fuzzy lavender tail pokes out of her prison, swishing happily from side to side in the darkness.

[Courage, With Des-- you know what? It doesn't matter: 1, 1, 1. The universe has betrayed poor Mittens]

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

This is a moment frozen in time.

Blood is rushing to her head. She can tell because she feels hot and dizzy for reasons that have nothing to do with how tired she is. The words sink slowly through Euna's skull, twisting her face right back into confusion. She shakes her head. She stares ahead, eyes diamond hard and ready for a fight. Hardlight answers her challenge, and she leaps straight into it.

This is not a pattern Euna has seen before. She doesn't know the holes at all. It doesn't matter; the holes know her. She bursts through the lobby on a fresh surge of speed. She is invincible. She is untouchable. She has stamina for days. She is... she is!

Free!

Euna Kim crashes through the doors leading out of the AEGIS pyramid with a roar and a thunderclap that rivals any of Sylvanus' missile strikes. Or at least, it seems like to her. Her eyes are on the tree. Only on the tree. How many times has she dreamed of touching this thing? How many times has she said she'd get it next time? Did she ever even think she'd really do it? Well it doesn't matter now. No one's gonna pop out and congratulate her. They're not putting her name on the plaque for this. The strategically optimal thing is to--

She strikes. Form perfect. Remember how she showed you, Sara? Wrist locked straight, make contact with the index and middle knuckles only. Drive with the hip and step through to add your entire body to the power of the blow. There's another crack like lightning, and the tree splits in half, from the trunk all the way up the middle to its highest branches. The two sides fall apart from each other until the roots catch in the ground, and they both settle in a huge V pattern, leaning away from each other. Euna spits on the ground.

And without waiting another second, she grabs Sara and lifts her into a princess carry before dashing off into the streets.

"You! Are! Such! An! Ass! I can't believe you'd say that to me!"

She's laughing and crying and coughing all at the same time. It's the ugliest sound you've ever heard. But if you listen closely, you can hear the trill of her stupid dorky giggle bubbling underneath it all. The one that means she's ok. Yes, she's ok. She'll be ok. Because...

Because she's got someone. She's got the one person she thought she wanted from the very beginning. She's got you, Sara.

[clearing Angry]

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

Errant stops running. Head feet drag heavily against the ground, digging a full inch into the tiling across several feet of stopping distance. Every breath looks like it's costing her a lot. She's not doing the controlled breaths through her nose like she taught you, Sara, it's all coming loudly and raggedly out of her mouth. Her chest heaves, her shoulders rise and fall with every greedy suck of air, and she's slouching pretty badly.

She's a mess. She's drenched with sweat, her face is stained with oils, fresh burns, cuts, blood, sweat, and yes, also tears. Her uniform is covered with flecks of hardened foam. It's also bright, gaudy, criminal red. It's not a good color for her. All across her chest there's a bunch of little cuts, so it's easy to look past it to the filthy undershirt that's supposed to keep all that heavy armor off her skin. Even her hair, the gorgeously long hair she says Princess Alina helped give her looks limp and bedraggled.

She stares across the lobby through her visor. Then she reaches up and snatches it off her face. For a moment, there's something like elation there, tired as it is. And then it shifts to confusion. Disbelief. Horror.

She drops into a combat stance, coiled so tense and so ready for a fight her limbs are whining.

"Tell me..." she croaks, "It's not the same. T-tell me it's not what I think it is. TELL ME! Sara, I swear to god I'm gonna... I'm gonna... even if it's you!"

Not like this. Oh no, please tell her it's not happening again.

Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

The dry Jedadi air was filled with the sounds of battle that day. A traditional saber keened and crashed against a series of light spears. The battle ribbon had long been sliced to... well, you know the expression. Shazari had really brought her A-game. You know, for once in her life. She pressed the advantage, moving forward, only forward, and smiled with wild glee as color after color shattered under her skillful strikes. Violet broke, then Green, then Blue, and then Yellow. It was a complete victory. Or a total defeat, depending on your perspective. Shazari let out a triumphant little whoop, and only an idiot would miss how proud of herself she felt right now.

It was really hard not to be happy for her.

"I've got you this time, [Mittens]! Give me back the crown jewels and I'll ask Mom to let you go with just a warning!"

"Psh," [Mittens] rolled her mischievous green eyes, "Make me!"

The smile fell off of Shazari's face. The saber lifted up under [Mittens'].

"Don't be stubborn! Twice in a row is really good, ok? But this time I won! So give them back!"

"You haven't won yet, Shazari."

"Yes I have!" she stomped her foot, "You've got no weapons, all of your stupid lights are broken. I've got you at my mercy! Which I'm trying to give you if you'd stop being such a jerk!"

"It's not that I don't appreciate it," [Mittens] chirped, "It's just that I know something you don't."

Shazari froze. She couldn't help tossing a nervous look over her shoulder, looking for an ambush from Rita maybe, or one of [Mittens'] knights. But there was nothing but the dark and the warmth of the cave she'd pinned [Mittens] inside of. She shook it off, and glared imperiously at the little Illuminan trickster.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"You're standing over a web viper pit."

The memory brings a little smile to Mittens' face, despite all the danger she's in right now. She can still remember her rival's little squeak of fear and the look on her face when the trap door gave out and plunged her into rainbow webby heck. Out of all of her Jedad heists, that one was definitely the most fun. She has to stifle a giggle when she thinks about the trip back to the Royal Palace, dragging that delirious, squeaky cocoon through the sands by her grappling hook (heh, sucker). The way she wiggled! The sounds she made!

Ourania help her, did Mittens actually miss Shazari? Ugh, she did. She actually did! Maybe Momma had a point about the feud being dumb. Well, when she got out of here, she'd... if she got out of here, she'd... ok deep breaths, Mittens. Put the apology on the list of reasons to get out of here in one piece.

Speaking of one piece, hello gorgeous. So glad you made it through this too. Mittens wiggles her way underneath the gorgeous suit like the world's most fashionable snake. Maybe if she stayed like this she could trick the web vipers into thinking she was one of them? No, that's dumb. Stop being dumb, Mittens.

She shapes her Violet into a dowel rod and floats it onto a sleeve. Then begins the painstaking and careful process of rolling it onto the light and off of her. This is the beginnings of her actual, less stupid plan. See, web vipers are very sensitive to the vibrations of the ground when their prey walks by. So as soon as she starts doing any sort of really movement, they'll strike. And as happy as she might wind up being in that cocoon, Mittens had a curse to break so that would be bad.

That's why she wads up the first blouse she sneaks off of her into a ball, and then flicks it across the room from her. There's a soft thump as it lands in the webbing. And so it goes. Trousers! A silk gown! A pair of dancing shoes! More and more and more clothes, going faster and faster as she regains the use of her arms, making so many tiny little vibrations in so many places the web vipers will miss her in all the confusion. Annoyingly, the toe-bean socks seem stuck to her. But oh well.

When she's finally mobile again, she snatches the suit off of its poly-chromatic hanger and has to suppress the urge to do some giddy hops. Her tail swishes happily behind her, which is good enough as far as celebrations go. But she's running out of time here! Get moving, Mittens!

She wipes a bit of sweat from her forehead, and turns her Violet into a small, floating disc just a barely big enough for her to stand on.

"Really... wish you were the grappling light, sweetie."

And, clutching the suit to her chest like it was life itself, Mittens hops onto the platform. She tenses her legs and jumps up! She sails through the air, cartwheeling up and to her right, while she frantically yanks Violet back to her and shapes it into a new platform in time for her to land on it. Twirl! Leap! Left! Twirl! Leap! Right! Twirl! Leap! Up!

Higher and higher she climbs with the grace of a gymnast, moving ever so slowly toward the exit, where maybe it will finally be safe enough for her to put real clothes on. Is this the easiest way to get out of here? No. Is it the fastest? Also no.

But if you've got a better way to avoid the attention of "nature's love snakes", I'd like to hear it.

[Get Away (with temporary Despair!): 6, 5, 5 (+2) = 12. Mittens takes the suit with her, and escapes quietly/without attracting attention]

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

...You know how in all of the movies whenever there's a chase scene, the person being chased will always take extra time to turn over carts or dump bookshelves or do fancy parkour tricks over walls and stuff? And how it never, ever works? Yeah. This feels a lot like that. Every second Errant gains by putting whatever she can between her and Victoria she loses back by having to put it there in the first place. These poor cubicles don't even amount to speed bumps. The barricades she vaults over aren't faring a lot better. She sneers over her shoulder with every crumbling obstacle and corner.

"Amateur!" she snarls. Nobody respects how much work goes into being able to pilot a body like this well.

Which, great, yeah. Skill check Victoria into oblivion, Euna. You can afford a big fight right now, absolutely! It's not like the hundreds of other operatives in the vicinity are going to pounce on you while you deal with her or anything! Think, you idiot, think! For once in your life, just think!

...AEGIS operating procedure in the face of overwhelming superiority is to first break down the problem into its component parts. She gasps for air and starts from the top. Actually yeah, she starts with that. She has to breathe. Victoria... technically also does, but she's got a suit and rockets doing all of her heavy lifting, she's not even sweating right now. Errant on the other hand is rapidly reaching the limits of peak performance. She'll start slowing down soon. Worse than that, AEGIS will be fully mobilized and organized against her within a matter of minutes. The window for her to skate past rooms before her peers get blockades and ambushes properly set up is rapidly closing.

But reaching the exit in these conditions won't solve her problem. She's still going to have a furious Victoria on her six, and this time with nothing but straight lines between the both of them. So no, that's out. She needs a way to lose Victoria. The Reactor Room? No, too dangerous. The maintenance shafts? Even worse: she might shed one pursuer but she'd also be throwing up huge AROs announcing the exact spot she'd be popping up so everybody else could blast her.

Jeez. This hurts so much. There's something wet running under her nose. Urgh, god not again. It's blood. She can't keep this up. She can't. She just can't. She needs to rest, she needs to clear the blockades before... Oh son of a bitch.

It kills her to do it. It absolutely kills her to do it, but Errant grinds to a halt and launches herself like a laser bouncing off a mirror off to her right, deeper into the pyramid and closer to the barracks, where the highest concentration of trained personnel would be. Run, run! She springs off of a wall, and every time she hears a crunch behind her she turns to throw the kind of grin she stole from @SARAHPHIM. Try harder, dumbass! You can't measure up to me.

AEGIS Protocol for handling overwhelming force states that an operative should use the local terrain to re-establish advantage and deliver a decisive strike to the target. Corollary: do not show your hand before the strike falls.

This is the hardest part. Errant skids to a halt in front of a full firing squad hiding behind riot shields. Just like she expected, they came loaded with E/Maulers and other anti-cybernetic weaponry. She stares at her coworkers, glaring at them through her visor while her chest heaves with the effort of not being caught this entire time. She spins on the ball of her foot and turns her back to them in time to greet Victoria. Her hair whips around behind her like a beguiling serpent. She plants her feet. Thumbs away a mess of nose blood and sweat, and flashes a feral grin toward the woman who would be queen.

"This is it," she says in her absolute best Elvia impression, "I'm afraid you've lost, milady."

Victoria hurtles toward her. Errant waits. When she finally leaps, she can feel the tingle of EMP waves just barely missing her. There's one satisfying crunch as she slams her fingers through the ceiling to make a handhold, and a second even more satisfying crunch as Victoria's suit seizes and crashes to the ground. She swings forward, and takes the window reloading provides her to give all of AEGIS her very best princess curtsy before vanishing around a corner again.

Good work, Soldier.

[Errant gives AEGIS influence to use +Soldier to Provoke: 11.]

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

Errant's face twitches with irritation as she flips out of the way of a blast of foam. Her foot drops back to the ground less than an inch from disaster and she desperately serpentines through still dormant TAGS to present less of a target. Already she can hear the telltale sounds of the entire line starting to boot up. She's got seconds, here. Five or maybe six tops. Think, damn it! Think!

Ugh. This would be so much easier if she were literally anybody else. Sara would jack their joints with hardlight, or Victor would hack them with nanites, or Ferra would... Ferra would be fine, let's just leave it at that. But Errant? Errant punches things! How much fun is it to be the brawler in a room full of thugs more than twice your size who can end you from the other end of the hangar?

Two seconds. Think!

She grinds to a halt. God damn it! God damn it, all of you absolute morons! You cowards! This is your home too and you're just... letting her take it! AEGIS belongs to her! Her whole life, it's been for her! You can't have it, Victoria!

"YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!"

This is her last second to act unimpeded. Errant grabs the nearest TAG as firmly as she can manage. She can feel the heat coming off of her arms. She can hear the whine in her legs. She ignores both of them, and she yanks and twists with everything she has. The room fills with the sound of cable snapping in half and the furious scream of a single girl as she lifts this super heavy war machine straight up off the ground and suplexes it into the active TAG just as another burst of riot control foam starts spraying. It shoots everywhere, gumming up gun ports and freezing joints, as frame after frame seizes up and topples into the next one while sparks and flecks of foam more than large enough to lock one of her arms or legs up for hours drift everywhere.

None of it touches her. Errant runs without pausing to look or second guess herself as she darts between pockets of clean air, twisting out of the way of snapping cables and rolling under uncontrolled heavy arms fire. For a moment, she taps into something elemental and moves like she's shrinking the space between her and the exit more than passing through that space herself. She doesn't even get her hair dirty.

With a final leap and a flying kick she crashes straight through the hangar door and runs as hard as her body will let her as soon as she pops back up off of the ground. Her heart pounds so hard in her chest she feels like it's going to explode. Her lungs are screaming at her. Her back and her abs are burning. But none of it feels like anything next to how angry she is. None of them. None of them were doing a damn thing!

For a moment, she's got nothing to listen to but the sound of her own heavy footfalls. Errant can't help but remember Nobunaga complaining at her about not getting to rescue her last time. Her visor runs corrections on her vision to account for the tear welling in her eye as she bites down hot fury at herself for thinking she'd help this time, too.

[Unleash squeaks by with a 7. Marking Angry]