Welcome to Gaia! ::

McMullard took three shots.

Two to each arm, one to the left leg.

He stumbled back. "Stay away!" he yelled. Why was Cyrill glowing?

((PM when I have time.))

McMullard stared at him. Oh, s**t. S**t. He turned and started running. Not running; sprinting, flying as though his life depended on it. He danced through the undergrowth, leapt off of trees, sprung over rocks; anything to get away. Get away from whatever it was, whatever she had been. Whatever Cyrill had been. As he sprinted, he started to lose even more coherence; he couldn't see, he couldn't think, and he couldn't dodge that low tree -

He tripped.

He came up about twenty feet from where he had started. Across a stream.

What? He froze, turned around; there was no question. The tree was at least seven yards behind him. He had not covered that in a single roll, nor a sliding trip. He wasn't wet, and there was water between him and there, and he hadn't gone over it. He hadn't even hit the ground.

He had just teleported.

But he had no idea where he was. His thoughts cleared. Oh s**t. He had shot Cyrill. He had just shot Cyrill. Okay, don't panic, don't panic, find your way back. If they wouldn't kill him when he came back. He started moving back in their direction, more slowly now but still quickly, calling out, "Cyrill? Are you okay? Cyrill? Talk to me!" He tried his radio, too; "Cyrill? You there? Crap, I don't know what happened. I... Cyrill?"

"Oh s**t," Richard muttered. Cautiously, oh so cautiously, he moved over towards Cyrill. He placed his pistol a distance away so that if there was a scuffle he would have the advantage in getting to it. To Cyrill he said, "I panicked. I thought... I thought you were a product of the thing, I don't know." He tried to make it over Cyrill's shouting voice. More importantly, he moved to bandage Cyrill's wounds.

Cyrill was screaming and thrashing around, trying to push Richard away.
"GOD DAMN BRITS I TOLD EM I DIDN'T WANT YOU WOULDA BEEN FINE ON MY OWN DAMN IT YOU QUEEN LOVING - "
As he ranted, he grabbed fistfuls of dirt and rocks and began to throw them childishly. The only difference was, as they hit the ground around, it began to crack ever so slightly, so that no one noticed.
Of course, Richard noticed when a particularly hard-thrown rock hit a tree.
And the tree exploded.
St. Cyrill was too busy to notice.

He nodded. "Yes. We'll be landing in an airport near the east coast." He pulled out a map. "An agent is always prepared."

"Divine power..." Xander echoed, approaching Tiki, "Sounds like a load of s**t to me." he said, thinking that there was some other explanation to what had just happened.

...lobsterback? That was new.

Richard slapped Cyrill. Hard. It wasn't jarring the wound, and it would hopefully bring the man to his senses. Before he killed either McMullard or the girl. "Help me!" he demanded of her.

Esther just nodded silently, inwardly sighing with relief. She didn't mean to have a lack of faith or anything, she just got paranoid sometimes, especially now in this whole new situation.

((I've got writer's block xp ))

((HAHAHhahahano.))

Richard reeled, fell backwards - and his hands found the G36C. He picked it up, swapped its magazine with blinding speed, then emptied half of it into the air just about St. Cyrill. "STOP IT!" he shouted, careful to make his spray go over and not into.