Welcome to Gaia! ::

The thumping and accompanying creaking wood echoed throughout the cavern as the doors finally gave way to the intruders- but the smoke bomb made it impossible to make out any figures around you at all. The fog, while only meant to impair a troll visually, still left most gasping for breath with a nasty stinging sensation in every orifice. You could hear rustling around you that seemed to be from those other than your comrades, but it was impossible to really tell amidst the chaos.

Within a minute or so the fog began to disperse. At first you could make out the features of trolls to your immediate sides, and as you squinted through the clearing haze, the silhouettes of the other Initiative members came into sight. The smoke still clung to the walls of the cavern, rhythmically swirling around the tables.

It seemed like there was now one more troll seated among them.

Plopped comfortably with her legs crossed onto the crate placed next to her, Errade Etturi herself flipped through the documents Byakko had been holding moments ago, humming and hawing dramatically while she giggling over the content. As she pawed through the pages she clearly grew disinterested, rolling her eyes with an over the top sigh before tossing the papers heedlessly onto the table top. They scattered, several fluttering to the cavern floor. She finally focusing her attention to the younger rebels.

"What a dramatic entrance, right?" Errade let out a mirthful scoff, lifting an arm to fan herself at her own impeccable timing. "I've been watching you, and it was just such a perfect chance, I couldn't resist! Ahh, I can just be so hasty sometimes." The traitorous orangeblood rolled her shoulders, giving her audience a sharp sneer as she uncrossed her legs and leaned in over the table. Her eyes narrowed, tone noticeably dropping. "You didn't honestly think you could just poke around without consequence and things would just go smoothly, did you? I mean, come on. I'm the Head of Intelligence. I knew everything you pathetic lot were going to do before it even crossed your under developed minds!" Another snicker. She turned to Byakko, cocking her head as she gave the mutant an unreadable grin. "If you had just kept on being a good lil' puppet, everyone would have been safe now. I guess you couldn't even do that right, huh? You couldn't even die when you were supposed to! But now I gotta kill everyone, oops."

Leaning against Errade's chair was an impressive battle axe, and you still weren't certain what lurked in the curling wisps of smoke still clutching to the cavern walls. Errade continued. "You got me. What, can't believe I'd just out myself? Nah; I figure no matter what futile course of action you took, we'd ultimately end up with this confrontation. So let's just speed this whole thing up and not waste any more time. Sound good to you guys?" She kicked her chair back, slowly stretching as she stood, reaching for her axe. Errade turned to gesture at the rebels with her weapon, face twisting into a fierce snarl.

"Come on, you want to 'save' your precious Phoenix Initiative? Let's do this!"

It wasn't all that surprising, in Zeffer's opinion, as the rattling came from above and the room began to fill up with smoke. Their unanymous decision garnered more astonishment than the surprise attack, he thought wryly, having expected more dissonance amongst the investigators. But as the discussion progressed and the evidence was laid out, the truth slowly unfurled, and became clearer. The blueblood was relatively happy for it; better to come up with a speedy solution, than to give into fighting amongst themselves. The Phoenix Initiative needed unity more than anything, and it felt as if they had attained that, if only at a basic level. The truth was that he didn't know some of the trolls in their midst as well as others, and he felt the need to remedy the problem. Unfortunately, it would have to wait.

Trolls like the orangeblooded traitor Errade were never the type to take things lying down. Why should they, when their well-planned out schemes had come so close to fruition? She had been undone by a bunch of newcomers, and it must have burned, but...as she made her dramatic appearance at the table, Zeffer slowly let out a tense exhale, his eyes going glassy as she began to gloat. She was the one who had started it all, the one who had brought so much suffering and failure to their cause. She had almost managed to end their lives, and he had seen his friends suffer because of what she'd done. It was unacceptable, and as she issued her challenge, he snarled, leaping to his feet just as quickly as she had, chair clattering to the floor with the force of his movements.

In seconds he had his batons out, and had pulled up a new 'accessory' from where it had been hanging around his neck, beneath the collar of his jacket. With the gogglepatch fixed over his bad eye and his batons crackling with energy, he roared, launching himself into the smoke to batter the older rebel with his weapons, not bothering to hold back. Memories flashed through his mind, a sort of deja vu hit him, as he remembered the last fight they had all participated in. Pump biscuit pounding, he reassured himself that this time would be different; they were on their own turf, now, and they were going to get revenge for what had been done.

HP: 40/40
Offense Artifact (Style B): 1/1
Military Grade Weapons +1dmg
Adult +1dmg

+1 Accuracy to all rolls this round

Odette watched Errade with a panicked look. She had underestimated the danger of the situation the rebels had created. Of course any traitor to the cause wasn't going to go easily, especially an adult. Odette didn't want to dwell on the idea of what the rebels would do with the traitor when they captured them. Surely, she considered they would be culled, but she couldn't stomach the idea.

Odette feared for her, despite her evil intentions. She wanted to speak up and say something, but she couldn't find the strength to interrupt the adult. Before she knew it the room was filled with smoke. She coughed for air, flailing wildly. "Vremea!" She called, desperately reaching through the haze for her moirail. She couldn't have gone too far from her seat, could she?

HP: 17/20
Agility Power A: 2
Offense Trinket B: 3

Everyone put forth their evidence, everyone came to the same conclusion. Of course, this is how it had to be, Aprife had been certain for a while now that Errade was the traitor, and when he was sure of himself, he was sure. What clues there were to find had been found by all present, and he was positive that they had come to the proper answer based not simple on rumor or speculation, but hard facts. It seemed, as he stared unwaveringly at Byakko, she was also finding the accusation rightfully founded.

Something was off about her. The yellowblood's eyes narrowed.

Not that there was much time to think over it. Her expression had steeled as quickly as he thought he'd seen it waver, as was her style, always steady. She continued to talk and Aprife let himself relax, if only slightly, considering what he thought might be a rightful punishment for the crimes enacted against the Initiative.

Oh, how he'd love to have Errade to himself for a while, he had so much to ask her. There were so many things he wanted to know, despite all they'd found out. Questions without answers, the what, the why, the when, the who. Aprife was nothing if not ever curious and difficult to satisfy. It was hard to hold back a grin at the thought. At least until smoke began to fill the cavern.

Akko called the attack, s**t, they should've known she'd be planning something. Zeffer leapt from his chair, gone before Aprife could say anything, though he'd tried, inhaling a sharp gasp full of the smoke.

Before he might have been fine, but his damaged throat was sensitive still, and would be for who knew how long. The yellowblood doubled over, holding his frame against the coughs that shook him. It couldn't ******** start like this, he had to get up, he had to do something. The very same troll who had burned the Initiative was in their midst, challenging them. It was their job to take her down. Aprife couldn't let everyone else have all the fun.

HP: 37/40
-1 damage to each half hour roll this turn as you struggle to compose yourself

Muerte was solemn.

After all the events that had transpired, he was more than ready for this meeting. There was a brief relief in his conscious when the rest of the initiative put forth their two cents, all in agreement, all pointing the same finger at the same trolls. Had there been any sort of disagreement, who knows how long this could have drawn on? Muerte did not have time to linger and lollygag for longer than absolute necessary.

He leaned back in his chair—posture stiff despite the would-be slack display—as Byakko began to address the group again. On with it. They had all reached the same conclusion, was dawdling like this truly necessary? Kill the b***h for being a rat, it wasn't that hard, or was being double crossed numerous times still not enough for these half-wits to just carry on with it, execution style? The greenblood huffed, arms folded on one another like usual.

The sudden hiss and fog made Muerte jerk forward, hands immediately clenching onto the table in front of him. There was a voice, new yet familiar...

The sight of Errade...

He—

In the thickness of the fog, listening to the orangeblood ramble, something culminated within him. Being dragged here into the wasteland of the desert... his scuffle with Aprife in the loathsome lonesome stretch of tunnels underground... Qinlon.

He couldn't see, but when could he, anyway? That thought was the trigger; everything up to this point, despite being so shrouded, was now so clear. His imperfections all came to a boiling head. It was like standing in the sea with arms trying to drag you down, down, down, and at the last second you break; how many times had it been now, saying he was no one's fool?

He had ended up as everyone's fool. He had ended up as his own fool. Damn his broken sight and his flawed psyche; he was better! He was leagues above every ******** fool in this room!

Wherein was the <******** folly?!

Like jaws, the saw was immediately snapped into his hand, chair clattering to the floor behind him as he jumped up over the damn table. He couldn't see s**t, but his focus formulated into a sharp sort of intent that broke through the mist, sounds blurring out except one. Call it crazy luck, or perhaps he was just so concentrated that it wasn't a complete chance, but the b*****d struck true.

Feeling his saw sink into flesh was a glorious feeling. To know that the body on the other end was warm and alive made him feel absolutely powerful. A sick smile twisted onto his lips; it was a pity he couldn't properly drink in the reaction, see the expression. It was a pity he was here with everyone else, fighting and scrambling to arms beside them—that he couldn't have this moment purely to himself. Something raw and intrinsic hungered inside of him. He could feel his blood boiling beneath his skin, making his veins itch and his flesh burn. He felt as if he was on top of the world.

Who was the fool now?

"You're going to die here, you dumb b***h."

Even if his words were lost to the fog, it was still a promise the scientist intended to keep. Lifting his saw—whatever was on the other end was gone now—he marveled at the orange that dripped down the serrated edge, splattered from the impact, thick from the cut.

Morbidly, the scientist wondered if he would be able to lay claim to any, ah, misplaced limbs tonight.

HP: 20/20
+1 accuracy for this round
6 damage dealt!

Zeffer had to reel himself in after his initial attack. With a murderous smirk on his face and the smoke swirling around, he knew he would need to balance out his battle craze and try to coordinate himself with his teammates, who he had momentarily abandoned in order to land a hit on their adversary. He darted back to Aprife's side, alarmed to see him choking on the smoke.

"I've got you!" He reassured, voice a feral growl as he retained a tense battle stance. Errade wasn't alone, apparently, but after a moment he saw a flash of her axe again, and darted forward. The sinister zap of his batons sounded out over the din of the battle, and he could tell he'd landed another hit. It was then that he remembered something. "Wait, where's Tete!?"

HP: 40/40
Offense Artifact (Style B): 1/1
Military Grade Weapons +1dmg
Adult +1dmg

+1 Accuracy to all rolls this round

Obligatory forgotten dice post

Though the fog showed no signs of clearing, Muerte still felt so alive and on point. He could feel his heartbeat battering against his ribs, hear his pulse in his ears... it was dizzying almost, but intoxicating. Behind his glasses were wide eyes, pupils dilated, breathing ragged though not from strain.

A voice cuts through the mist, so sharp and startling that it takes the greenblood a second to even catch what it was that caught him off guard. A name. Not just any; his name, though not even that. It was a voice that sounded starkly familiar—Zeffer's, he'd concluded. Was the b*****d concerned? In his state, drunk on that rush, he found it almost hilarious.

So much more so that he was actually heading towards the sound, boots quick to jump over fallen debris, dodging trolls that came into view seconds before they were gone again, like some sort of dance. It wasn't as if he cared about the state of those two morons.

Yet, here he was, saw at his side as he came upon the two. Aprife was coughing violently, Zeffer himself seemed to have that same crazed clarity in his eyes. Memories hit him from their first encounter, when he had stumbled upon him striking down that purpleblood hunter mercilessly. Even though he hadn't been the one who delivered the blow, he felt it vicariously. It was such an immense feeling. For as much as he berated the blueblood, at least he could give him props in that. Sometimes, maybe, they could be one in the same, under the influence of that rush, that sweet feel—

The coughing disrupted his thoughts.

How un-amusing.

"Get you're s**t together, moron!" Muerte hissed at Aprife, though the berate was softened from the stimuli of his surroundings, "I didn't come all the way out to this god-awful wasteland just so the b***h could succeed. ******** do something!"


HP: 20
+1 accuracy till next round

2 damage dealt