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s**t.

Everything went from bad to ******** over royally. Nightmares paled in comparison to the sudden carnage that overtook the hunters. Otto frantically looked from one to the other, grasping at straws for ideas to help get them safely home.

The acid that had been streamed over Candace cascaded across himself and a handful of others around him. He screamed out in pain and horror as he felt bits of flesh burn away and corrode. A smell so putrid he could puke overcame his senses. His whole body was wrought with nerves going berserk, that he was barely able to register what parts of him had been sprayed with acid.

He'd hate to feel what Candace felt, who had gotten the full impact of that attack. Or the others... He could hear everyone's pleas, screams and groans. Gurgles and grunts. It was a massacre. A terrible and horrifying ******** up.

WELL. The s**t not only hit the proverbial fan, but it hit it - blew it up - and went off a cliff in flames. Rin was sinking in waves of razor sharp flesh-seeking legs that clattered and clanked eagerly against her and Melvin's shields.

Yet still he was trying to defend her.

She was no use to you right now Melvin... she can't make the scary bugs go away so why do you insist on protecting her? She tilted her head to give the side of his arm a small nuzzle with her cheek. She didn't have all the answers okay. Not always. Not right now.

Then one wriggled into her thoughts. She held Byr up and gently tapped him against Melvin's side. The green runes glew brighter and then dimmed. Her gaze shifted downward. She failed.

Healing - "Miss"
Targ - Melvin

He watched as she pressed against his arm, and then placed her weapon against him, to watch it glow and dim. The expression she had was enough to pull him out, if temporarily, from his own swirling thoughts, and he leaned in to kiss her on the brow. He was revolting right now, but at least he could give her that. "It's going to be okay." He repeated her words back.

He fired at the towering insect closest to Rin, before his gun glowed a bright green. Then he brought it over to her.

Attacking: Centipede Nearest Rin
Damage: 4
Charge: 3/3

Pandora's fingers were met with a hiss, and when he resumed breathing again it was just as erratic as it had been moments before. His eyes squeezed shut again as he tried to focus on something, anything to stay awake and conscious; her voice was a good start, and he may have tried to smile at her attempt to console him. The attempt clearly failed though, as he uttered a few bloody, sputtering coughs instead. At least he knew that she was trying to extend his probably short life.

He never did listen well, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew her fingers just weren't going to cut it. So, even as he lay dying under her, he reached down to grab at his own clothing, whatever he could reach at the time. With a trembling hand he started to lift up his shirt with every intention of getting it off of himself, to at least have something more solid to press to his wounds.

Nevermind that he was still wearing his jacket. Or that the remains of his scarf still looped around his shoulders.

"S-some..." He gasped out, still trying to give orders to save his own life. A bit of his words were mumbled or perhaps not said at all, before he could finish. "s-s-olid. P--ress. C...oth" It was hard to explain yourself, but he thought he was doing pretty damn well.

Crawling. She was reduced to a backpedalling on the sand, swiping at the few centipedes that had followed her after the initial entanglement. Up, up, have to get up, have to find Gale, Nevada, Candace, Lance, somebody--

The screaming began; for a moment, she almost thought she heard her name.

Finding her second wind, Stormy scrambled to her feet in time to cut at the insects leaping and biting at her still, tired enough that even the normally passive hunter was growling as she did her best to fend them off. Her hand still stung, but with the scarf still on he rmouth and sand coating the wound, she felt she had better chances against not getting infected. Dying, though, was very much on the table, if not imminent.

Don't think like that. Retreat and regroup. Her shield was barely holding together and she needed to act fast. There were hunters recovering and fending the things off, but there were still more that were being mowed down like it was nothing at all. Too many people, too much destruction; her worrying spiked.

"Gale?" she called out, her voice hoarse and parched. "Nevada?" She'd lost track of them both, and it plagued her as much as the insects were that they weren't in arm's reach. Now, now she was guilty for her behavior upon resurfacing; it hadn't been right of her to shut down like that. Miss Candace she didn't have quite as much anxiety about, but the emotion churned nevertheless. They needed to find Lance, too . . .

Rin really was not fond of the sensation of a barrel pressed up against her temple and she immediately flinched as she felt the jerk of the gun going off. Instead of pain or peace being inflicted, it was a surge of energy. He did not miss.

She still felt useless. Her injuries were mended - but what now? "Any ideas?" Rin urged. "Head on attack is not helping the situation. The enemy only got... bigger."

He didn't know that it was even possible to endure this much pain without either dying or at least passing out. Even underground, he had been stung until he couldn't take it anymore, until he had slipped out of consciousness, but this seemed altogether worse, because that had all been external wounds, just something to affect the surface, while this...this burned through every fiber of his being, this ran it's swift and horrible course through his bloodstream, seemingly lighting up every nerve ending in his body. He was a convulsing, writhing mess on the sand, his arm trembling and finally lowering so that his lance no longer offered him any protection. His eyes were shut tight, his jaw clenched shut as he growled out his pain, sweat covering him from head to toe.

And he just wanted it to end. In that moment, he just wanted death to come and ease away the pain. There was no hope to be had here, not with hundreds of giant centipede heads hovering above the sand, swaying, likely readying themselves to strike again. His arm, the one that had been stabbed through and broken, was curled against his chest, hot blood leaking out from around the leg. Trynt was still shouting at him, still trying to tell him something, and as he fought to regain some amount of his senses, he realized that his weapon was trying to distract him from the pain, trying to reassure him that they could still make it out of this, trying to tell him that he needed to calm down, to breathe through it.

It was hard, it took every ounce of his willpower and concentration, but Finn was finally able to do as his weapon demanded. He was able to find a way to control his breathing, though it was still shaky, and he still couldn't help the whimpers of pain that escaped him, and the sounds of screaming and crying out around him made it all the more difficult, but it was slightly better then before. He could die with the smallest bit more dignity now. The fingers of his right hand tightened on their hold around Trynt once more, ready to use him if necessary.

And then sounds. Explosions? Popping.....A burst of blue. Finn's eyes opened just in time for panicked eyes to see the insects around him crumbling in flames, pieces of them disintegrating back into tape worms and centipedes that scurried around even while on fire, some of which fell on him, though he attempted to block what he could with one raised, usable arm. The flames were all around him, burning hot, as hot as whatever was already burning him alive from the inside. He could no longer breathe, the smoke was so thick in the air....

And then there was more blue, and cold, a relief that was short lived before somebody had grabbed a hold of the arm he had raised and hauled him to his feet, his entire body protesting the movement as he let out another roar of pain. The commands that were given to him were nearly lost on him as he swayed dangerously on his feet, but he was shoved in a direction, and Trynt was snarling at him again, telling him to move, now, and to go.

He went, though he had no idea where he was going. He could hear shouts, maybe just the others calling out for their friends. Finn swallowed hard, gritting his teeth against the pain that jolted through him at every step, at the way his arm, which was still curled against his chest, throbbed. He walked, a hurried pace but a walk none the less, broken, staggered, his lance dragging in the sand behind him.

A misstep, a twist of his ankle, and he soon found that sand rushing up to greet his face as he fell, and had no way to cushion his landing. He attempted to turn, to at least land on his right side and not injure his arm further, and somehow managed that, though the pain that traveled through him at the collision was jarring.

And then the flames, they were all around him again, this time roaring over him, consuming him, singing his clothes, burning at his exposed skin, his hair......

Rough hands hauled him up and shoved him again, causing him to stumble blindly through acrid smoke that stung at his eyes, only adding to his overall sense of pain.

He fell again, but this time when he landed, it was to cool grass beneath his face. He was dimly aware of voices, of a smell that wasn't just of smoke, but of something burning, something awful, before he blacked out completely.