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 Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 5:40 pm
In numerical order, Fyrin's four men made it to safety, turning around and drawing their sidearms in most cases (James still had fifteen rounds in the P-90's magazine), just in case Fyrin needed any more support. It appeared he didn't; he swirled a few fireballs, took a few impressive leaps, and rolled towards the door, very, very close to safety. Unless something went hideously wrong, he would make it.
---
Paul looked up to Alan. "Was this the work of that Acolyte?" he asked. His tone was flat, his eyes unreadable. Melissa turned a little, but looked away instead; she had some idea of what was on his mind.
"Don't," she requested quietly, but Paul shook his head.
"I have no intent to kill, but that woman needs to see what really happened," Paul told her.
"Acolyte?" Darius' voice rumbled from nowhere particular. He still had enough control over the air to create sound waves. "Aren't they those really fast ones? Nasty little buggers to catch," Darius informed them with some degree of satisfaction.
((Wait... are those my men or are they just randoms? I have to presume randoms, so...))
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 6:22 pm
((That was the two of your men who had, as of that point, made it out of the building.))
"Probably. The Sages and Djinni are both highly retaliatory," Alan said. "Revenge, though... would not be advised. They tend to deploy Archsages when they're attacked... Archsage Blackstone is their most powerful offensive one, probably. She has hundreds of spells and variants memorized and is a descendant of one of the instigators of the Sage-Djinni war. The fact that she's such a high-profile target is a sound indicator of her proficiency, since she's still alive. And since Archsages have the speed of acolytes and the destructiveness of Sages, it's probably a bad idea to bring one down upon you."
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 6:30 pm
"Damn it, you just can't take care of anything, can you?"
The voice came from above and behind Joe, Jacob, and Fyrin's men. There was a curious pulse-like feeling in the air, an almost-visible ripple, and then a feeling similar to watching a crosshair zero in on a target.
The target? A missile.
The missile seemed to quiver for a moment before violently detonating in such a way that the fire and shrapnel would blow past the group on either side, albeit violently.
Of course, that meant that it would possible hit innocent mundanes.
As the missile exploded, Joe was already swirling Air in his hands. Holding his right out to his side, two fingers out, and his left out in a straight line, pointing with his index finger, the fire and debris suddenly blew straight outwards, away from the crowded terminal and into the almost empty parking lots.
Letting out a breath, Joe turned to see a familiar face.
"Just what the hell is going on?" he asked. Confusion did not sit well with this soldier.
"That's a good question," Marco answered casually. "Wish I knew."
((Feel free to like, make it so that I don't have to keep controlling the two at the same time. A split-up or something would be good.))
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 6:51 pm
"They're fighting back better than we thought they could..."
"What should we do?"
"Most of our troops are stuck inside, and Yang's busy."
"Gertrude, maybe?"
"If we send in Gertrude, I'm not the one taking off her straitjacket. I learned my lesson last time."
"Rock paper scissors?"
"I'm not doing it."
"Fine. I'll do it..."
--
Renard and the satyr slipped out another side exit to try either flanking the vampire/werebeast forces. Or to run.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:03 pm
Fyrin cocked his head. This was the one they'd been fighting with before. His men, who had taken a rocket ride, were picking themselves up, sealing off their broken bones with shards of earth and air. It was hard; their mana was terribly low, but luckily it was Steven and George, who had miraculously preserved a good chunk more than their crushed compatriots.
Fyrin tipped his head to the other side. "Are you not the demon hunter?" he inquired simply, bluntly.
---
"I don't want revenge. I want this to be over," Paul snapped. "I want a way in to talk to whoever's in charge, and I want them to know that I was defending myself. That I was doing what any person who had teammates would do. If they won't listen to that, I leave as hopefully a neutral, at worst an enemy, with Darius covering my backside."
"I like the sound of this," Darius said happily.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:08 pm
Marco smiled charmingly. "That I am, good sir," he said sardonically as he bowed slightly. "Is that a problem?" His aura was suddenly huge, spreading out on either side of him from behind. In Fyrin's current state, the fight would barely last a minute if it really began.
Joe stepped in. His flaming presence had a somewhat defusing effect. "No fighting," he said urgently. "We need to get out of here. Now." He looked back and forth between the two.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:41 pm
"You underestimate the paranoia created by a nearly seven-century-long state of war," Alan said, shaking his head.
--
At approximately that moment, a woman walked out of the crowd towards Joe, Marco, and Fyrin. She wore torn jeans and a tank top. Her nails were bloody. She looked at them.
"You smell strange," she informed them. She was breathing very heavily.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:45 pm
"And you look strange," Marco shot back without missing a beat. Joe looked skywards and raised his hands in disbelief.
Marco pulled a black Sharpie from his pocket and twirled it deftly between his fingers. "Can we help you with something?" he asked lightly.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:50 pm
"I'm very hungry," the woman replied, glancing at the others and back to Marco. She looked at her feet. "Not so much hungry... more... thirsty..." Her gaze came back to his face; she looked at him intensely. "I... think you could help me." She began to walk towards him, a little uncertainly. She seemed unused to movement.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:55 pm
The Sharpie lid hit the ground in the same second that Marco's left hand finished drawing a complicated symbol on the back of his right hand. He held his right hand out, palm forward, fingers together.
"Back off," he said. "One more step and I blast you."
Joe stepped forward. "Hey, whoa. What's going on here?" He stayed sort of between the two, although he was out of the direct line between them.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:56 pm
Fyrin shook his head. "I was more curious as to precisely why you assaulted a van full of children." Remarkably, Fyrin could pull this question off without sounding accusing. He glanced at the woman. "What are you, a vampire?" This also he pulled off without any negative context, especially since he was a skeleton walking around in a cocoon of bandages.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:57 pm
"Why are you so... hostile?" the woman asked. She was speaking very slowly, as if intoxicated or very sleepy. "You offered to help." She continued her advance. Her mouth had not opened wide enough to expose teeth, and she ignored Fyrin's question.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 8:01 pm
Before Marco could go for her, Fyrin stepped forward, grabbed her arm, and held fast, tight enough that anyone who had any feeling would be experiencing significant pain.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 8:04 pm
She looked over at him lazily.
"Why are you doing that?" she asked. She looked upward and winced. "It's awfully bright out," she commented, looking back to Marco. "You said you'd help," she complained. Her speech was very disconnected; every sentence seemed independent of the ones before and after in tone and subject.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 8:05 pm
Marco smiled. "I wasn't after the van. Or you, actually. I was assaulting the demons. It's, like, my job."
He kept his hand aimed at her, but at such an angle that if he blasted it would be mostly away from Fyrin.
Mostly.
"What are you talking about?" he asked her, confused.
Joe stood by, watching in interest.
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