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"The Hellhole Exit Express seems to be running on time..."

Hikaru repeated those words with a bit of a laugh, watching the man with the extensions moving about. Though he might have been half machine, the young prince could very much appreciate humour. Though the yelling about knocking him off the roof, was not very humerous. The glowing on his left side would soon be apparent in its function.

"Thanks... for the welcome..."

What seemed a stream of flaming magma would come from his side into Hikaru's left hand, forming into a .45 calibur Defender.

Hikaru looked down through the roof, his right eye switching into x-ray vision and brought his Defender to follow the potential hostile's signature. He'd not fire unless somoene really took hostile action, he knew that sometimes words were just offered in anger and frustration without intent.

//It went straight to his hand, so the only way it'd hurt the roof, is if the roof is weak against the heat that the magma lets off. Its an enchantment that's tied to the bio-metal. Soz, don't let science confuse the magic stuff. //

"Didn't you hear what the person said?"

Hikaru asked, speaking of the yelling loone with the shotgun.

"He wants to knock us off..."

Apparently the shouting man with extensions knew someone in there that he was talking too. Hikaru wasn't too afraid of the sword though, he was confident that his armor could hold up and at worse, he'd trigger the mode that locks onto vital points and launch a lot of magma rock spikes into the roof at the passengers.

"Get that man to stop weilding the weapon and making threatening gestures, and I'll put the Defender away."

As it was, Hikaru wasn't feeling safe at the moment.

The explosion seemed well contained, but pretty much assured death to those in it.

Which meant the main herald of it, would be the boom and the flash. Then nothing. No shockwave flinging him over, no firey death. He was considering slowing when something tiny flashed over his shoulder, and was gone. A few moments later, he stopped. Waited for some very slow fireball of death to come. And when it didn't, he stopped, and turned around.

"Well, I guess we made it. That was one weird bomb." he said, gently patting his empty outer coat pocket.

Empty.

He patted his empty outer coat pocket.

Empty.

He killed the gas, slowing to a stop.

OWLE! What happened, are you alright? Where are you?

It all came out in a single deluge of hurried thoughts, scrambled by the haste a touch. He wasn't very good at all the mind stuff, controlling, organizing, or getting back in contact with her, but at least he was able to form worse of response when she initiated something.

When did... the blast, you weren't too near it, right? Are you okay?

He searched the area with his eyes. He seemed to be clear, but he didn't see sign of her anywhere. Ahead of him down the road, he was looking into a long street running to a corner. A missing corner, where he could see the outside part of the destruction the bomb had left. Maybe he'd gone too far back?

Alright, um, sorry, still hurried, but not so bad as before. Cooling a little. Do you know when you fell out? Can you maybe describe where y- s**t---

And it cut off in a burst of surprise and small flood of panic, Kalis mind snapping out of the present line of contact as it centered the entirity of focus elsewhere.

What Kalis hadn't considered, is that something else might have gone back too. The bomb, among other things made a lot of noise, and it was likely a lot more than one or two things were milling about. And there was more than run-of-the-mill zombies about too. The ones he'd smashed about on the roof hadn't really impressed him enough to merit much worry.

But something coming from outside his line of vision and flipping his bike, sending Kalis and the motorcycle skidding in seperate directions, was something to be concerned about.

Kalis rolled over, coughing from the bumps and the shock, and his bodies somewhat beat up condition. He planted his elbows, trying to get up quickly, but not quite fast enough.

A massive arm struck his ribs, rolling him further along the ground, bounching, teeth gritted painfully to keep him biting his tongue in shouting out as his head struck concrete more times than he liked. This time, he scrambled up faster, frantically, turning up and around with pale eyes wide. What he saw, was at least a good 300 pounds of large man turned swelled, advanced stage zombie, with a single swelled and massively overlarge arm, two bow-legged lower limbs, and somethings concieled by it's oversized shoulders. Once the man would have looked large framed, probably. But the zombification had gone further from there, and he looked simply swelled now.

Oh, and it was charging him with the head dome-like down like a bull.

Kalis literally jumped, stumbling backward to try and get away, the massive arm sling out suddenly as the thing missed him on the pass, open palm slapping his stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and spin him full ********, he stumbled back further, until his back met a brick wall. He grinned right in the face of the honestly frightnening situation, not much else he could do as he panted to get his breath back, save for wiping away a line of blood tracing down his chin.

The creature stopped on the far side of the street, hunched over, and spun, flinging metal sewer grating clumsily, but with more than enough force. Kalis moved to the side, taking a hard hit on his arm, feeling blood gather at broken skin among bruises under the unharmed shirt sleeve. The beast came forward again, charging clumsily, this time slowing as it neared, and leaping in a tackle into Kalis as he tried to move aside. Knocked to the ground, and too near the building to roll, he tried to pick up his legs, bunching the knees into his chest, and kicking the head of the creature held upright over him with the one arm and both legs with his heels.

The head was stuck to the shoulders, and no longer even looked like a head. He broke it's thick skin, but the creature didn't seem bothered, its beady eyes in bulbous sockets not blinking.

And over its shoulders came two long, thin limbs, ending in heavy claws, out, then coming in and over. In a desperate push of heels and twist of his torso to the side, Kalis avoided being speared through the throat by either, and shoved finally, knocking it against the building to roll away, only making a few feet before it turned back as he struggeled to get up. Kalis reached over his shoulder, grabbing the sword hilt, and recieved an overheavy palm to the torso, throwing him into the air and a good two yards backward.

Drake is about to reply...but he hears an exclamation on the roof. Yes. That's how long it took Drake to reply. Regardless, he's only slightly surprised when the semi-arachnid Damien bursts through where the rear window was and begins to struggle with the street urchin next to him...whose name he never bothered to figure out. With a shrug, figuring that Damien is more than a match for a hyperactive thief who was almost in shock as it was, Drake returns to his window vigil as they speed out of the city.

Owle stood like that a little while, stunned from the impact. She wasn't hurt, bruised a bit maybe, but her brains seemed to rattle around in their casing during that fall. Finally, though, she recovered her wits and changed back...

"Kalis!"

There he was, fighting a big hulking brute of a thing. He seemed to have the upper hand, though; the monster was on its last legs. It had already taken a nasty blow to its...was there a head there? No, she didn't see a head...Kalis had cut off its head?

"Kalis, Kalis, are you alright?"

He was leaning up against a wall now, having defeated the monster, laughing hysterically for some reason she couldn't determine. "I came to help, but..."

One hand tugged at a strand of blue hair in embarrassment. "Looks like you had this one covered. Any injuries?"

Kalis held a hand up as if to gesture or say something, but fell back into laughing, harder and harder, holding onto his sides as they felt like they were ready to come apart, tears streaming from his black eye. The other one seemed a little less watery.

After a while, a fit of coughing cut it off, and he hacked breifly into his hand, letting it trail away on its own. The speckles of red on his glove didn't look promising. "....yeah.... a few.... sorry..." he grinned, suddenly finding yet another humor in the situation. He'd come here to save her. Looked like things had turned around a little in that way they have.

The world was full of irony. Just full of it.

"Hey, Owle, think you could help me stand up?"

He pushed on the ground beside himself, rising partway before he seemed to get stuck and drift back down again. "I'm a touch shakey right now."