=> [META] Phoenix Initiative HQ (???? - Pg 60)

[saedusk]

Despite his injuries, Aprife had felt so very alive, so undeniably aware. The pulse of his heart was heavy as it rushed blood to his limbs in his adrenaline fueled dash further and further down the tunnels. A stark trail of yellow dotted the path behind him. As hard as his body was working to keep him going, it was also draining him faster. Besides the significant injuries to his shoulder and arm, the ones that had drenched his entire sleeve and left a sticky wetness dripping from his fingers, he'd ended up with more than one bleeding gash across the rest of his body, too. They didn't hurt anymore now, but they sure would later.

Not that he'd have to wait long for his later. It dawned on him rather quickly where they were when they rounded the corner and flew into the expanse of the brooding cavern. The tiny chorus of chirps sounded so much louder than he ever remembered hearing despite its actual low hum, like the toll of a bell, the realization that this was the end of the line. Still, he didn't waver. This had to be their last stand, they simply couldn't allow the Queen's forces to barge in and destroy the delicate balance of life they had hidden behind them.

Pausing at the entrance, he checked the darkened tunnels for anyone else. It looked like everyone had made it, everyone except Byakko, who flew past like a bat out of hell only moments later. That was his cue to do the same, and with little time to spare.

The warning came and he knew he wouldn't make it to direct cover before she pulled the trigger. Instead he threw himself to the ground, as flat as he could manage, arms over his head. The explosion was massive, loud, jarring to his very core as it shook the caverns and destroyed the only path between the royalists and themselves.

Aprife couldn't remember sitting back up, but he had, coughing against the clearing plumes of dust swirling around the floor and through the air. Watery eyes made searching difficult as he finally began to look around again, hesitating only when the pain began to leak back into his weary form, dull at first, but sharper and sharper with time. He was sure most everyone had ended up worse for wear, though. Now wasn't the time to let weakness overcome him.

Clutching his stomach against the ache his own coughing irritated, he sought out familiar faces. Zeffer would be okay, he was sure of that, he believed in the blueblood's ability to drag himself out of anything, even if he always ended up with injuries like he'd just gone through a goddamn blender. Didn't mean the yellowblood didn't want to see him, though, and he was nearly to his knees and struggling to get up when another familiar face ended up the source of the footfalls that echoed behind him.

"Muerte, you made it..." There was an edge of relief in his voice, but it was quickly cut short at the greenblood's scathing question. That made him laugh, even if laughing did hurt, s**t. "You must be fine, snark's as good as ever." A sigh later, and he'd hoisted himself up, too.

"Might as well just come out and say I told y'so, not that you didn't already imply it back in the tunnels." For a moment he went quiet, observing the doctor as he went to work on himself, noting how his normally steady hands seemed to fumble just a twinge too much. Narrowed eyes slid up his arm, obviously the injured one, over his shoulder and past his cheek. The blood wasn't wholly obvious at first, but he noticed the smear of green peeking out from behind the curve of his horn and the curtain of his hair, he noticed the way that very same hair was clinging damply and awkwardly to his temple. Lips pursed, Aprife debated bringing it up before he finally spoke.

"You hit your head or something?" Eyes snapped back down to his hands, but rather than mention the way they wobbled, he opted for a simpler route. "Your head's bleeding."

Looked like they all really had gotten pretty roughed up.

Melancholies

 

[Gl!tch~]

He had pulled himself along as fast as he could. Everything was in a mad flux, with rocks of all sorts falling everywhere, the fire, the smoke. So much yelling, so much turmoil. But he couldn't pay attention to all of it right now. Press on. Reemus could see a small figure far ahead: Vos and her mama. Athene was also nearby. Woofmum made sure to be close enough to touch and lean on whenever he may need her for either forms of support. Each breath burned, nearly choking him between the toxic, unventilated air and the pain tearing through him from his chest up.
Sight was still fuzzy, but tolerable. Once they were outside and he got to heal he was sure everything would be right as rain.

The rebel leader, the anomaly with her offensively shocking pink blood covering her body, fought for the larger group to funnel into a cavern. Then, with little warning, she yelled to the masses. Take cover? That meant-

The world went white. A new blindness punctuated with a buzzing in his spongeclots. For a moment, he couldn't even move an arm to try rubbing the receding white spots out of his eyes. Moaning and groaning, Reemus found himself on the ground again. That blast had some serious kick.

Now knowing he was still in one piece, he looked around for Athene and Voscil. As he scanned around, Reemus took stock of the new wall of rubble. And it seemed just about everyone else in this room was a stranger. Rebels. The anarchists, who Athene of all trolls was a part of. With a mutantblood leader. Just thinking about it made his head hurt more than it already was.

Reemus slowly, painfully, and at this point half-heartedly pulled himself up into a sitting position. Standing was just too much for the moment. He couldn't help but whimper a little during his efforts.

leon_a_darkangel

PeanutButterpies

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

The last twist and turn of the tunnel yielded at last what they had been running forwards towards so desperately. Stryke realized at last why they had been lead this way. He hadn't been wrong to place his faith in Byakko, he would have to thank her later. The earth rumbled, and with a great crash and final tumble the rocks settled into place separating the two forces from one another.

At last, they had arrived upon the true treasure under the mountain.

While everything ached, from his limbs and body to the fact he simply felt exhausted those were things that would pass away. Still Stryke was wounded himself, he wasn't dying. Instead of asking right away, he let the more serious be tended too first. The yellowblood's smile was a wry. The journey had not been an easy one, and their victory felt more like a hollowed one. He was certain they still had work to do.

Turning to the orangeblood in his arms he turned to her, feeling the first yellow translucent tear roll down his cheek as he finally had a chance to just breathe. His daggers had slipped from his grasp by that point, he'd have to clean and put them away. The familiar routine would have to wait just a while longer. Once they had a moment of calm, Stryke pulled her to his frame and hugged Keionx tightly. Holding her for a long moment he muttered an apology before letting go and pulling back to examine her. She looked worse for the wares, and like she needed medical attention.

"sssit down...i'll try and wrap and clean what i can. i'm no doctor." Stryke murmured. He willed her to take a seat beside one of the unoccupied areas within the caverns, glaring for effect to show he meant business. Retrieving what supplies were deemed necessary, and while clumsy as books didn't translate actual application until the moment was at hand he tried his best to patch her after cleaning her wounds and compressing them with bandage wrap. "there, good as almost new." She might need someone else to look at her but at least it was better than nothing.

Next he wiped up what blood off himself he could, grimacing at the rainbow array of hues smeared together. The timing of symbolism made him feel ill. As he saw it, they were engaged in a deadly match of chess, and now stood to lose the very piece that would decide the game.

Realization dawned on him as he sat down...they had made it this far in varying stages of being alive and well. Pulling a knee to his chest and leaned on it heavily a long drawn out sigh as he let his shoulders sag limply. Surely he could have few moments of this respite to himself. Stryke closed his eyes for a moment. The smell of burning flesh and the cries of agony of those whom had perished in the ordeal still replayed in his mind dimly aware of the horror that had been left in the wake of the ordeal even behind the safety of several feet of rubble.

His mind turned back to the greenblood whom had been their harbinger of their demise. Kursha. As far back as the wake of destruction that had broken out across Old Hemisect City, Stryke had regarded the other troll in a mostly positive light, and followed him despite his better judgement. Had he been misguided all along? The greenbloods appetite for destruction and ruin now threatened to consume them all. Even if his means were justified in the eye of the Empire, and he'd done it to better himself, it didn't make this right. Factions be damned, this had been harrowing. Worse that it had all been a game for him to win and claim victory over. Another tear slid down his cheeks. Saying goodbye wasn't supposed to be this hard.

Even lost in thought the dull rumble of different voices within the now sealed cavern reminded him where he still was. If he focused, he could still hear Byakko giving orders above all the rest. Now was the time more than ever to dig deep and find the strength of will to carry on. They were all living on precious borrowed time. Stryke looked around to those present in the caverns, a heavy feeling pulling at his pump biscuit as he tried to hold himself together.

At least it would be easier to keep moving forward knowingly helping those whom needed to be protected.  

[leon_a_darkangel]

Voscil kept moving forward as she had promised Athene and Reemus they would make it out of here alright...and she wouldn't stop moving until it was safe. Her lusus was close, never leaving the trolls side as the two ran together. Only this time it wasn't a game their lives were in danger. Terror made her pump biscuit hammer wildly, each step brought them closer to wherever the rebel leader was taking them.

The rebel leaders blood had startled Vos. It was shocking and unnatural. The hue was wrong and made her throat clench from fear of the unknown. Was she really a mutant? Voscil had never thought about how she felt on the subject, and it made her feel uneasy towards the woman in charge. Once the last of the rubble settled into the place she touched a few of the rocks..feeling that they were solid and in place. It would take hours before they could begin to be cleared.

Reality settled into place. Her rash decision had landed her in this situation. Normally new trolls would have excited her beyond measure but in that moment she felt numb. Regret pangs ate at her digestive cavity. It was then her tears began to brim over the surface...staring as their fate was sealed in place. Behind that rubble was a few of her friends like Zindel and Afyrse.

The smaller troll felt more tears bubble from her looking orbs, and quickly wiped at them refusing to cry now. It was Afyrse she'd wanted to hold most, memories of his kiss on her cheek flashed in her mind, and how they'd first met. Covering her mouth with her palm she shook her head. This time she hadn't run for the yellowblood…in fact she hadn't even found him at all. His grumpy seriousness would have been a welcomed site. Neither of them from what she could tell was within the cavern they'd been guided into. Both of her friends might be lost to her, perhaps forever. Looking away from the rocks, her hand touched a portion of her mother’s undamaged pelt, leaning into her heavily for the comfort the roarbeast had always provided. Rubbing her marked cheek against the soft white and grey stripped fur she sniffed softly as she calmed from her little melt down, taking in the faces of everyone here.

A little cooing sound distracted Voscil. Her grey pupils dilated with wonder as she looked down lifting her head up. With a bit of excitement she realized there were GRUBS wiggling around. Baby trolls?! What were they doing here she wondered. Voscil's eyes went wider still as another sound lower, and more rhythmic made her look up. It was the steady breathing that had caught her attention. Wandering from her mother’s side and that of the yellowblood and green she'd come with Voscil stared in wonder processing what she was seeing. A mother grub?! "Woah..! No way!" She whispered blinking a few times.Her jaw went slack in a surprised 'o' shape as she took a few steps forward to get a better look. It was white, and horns more massive than she'd ever seen on a creature. Awe and fear resonated with the lightning wielding psionic.

Taking a step back, thinking better of messing with the little things or the mothergrub herself, she flittered around the cave her energy buzzing with a faint hum as she darted about making her rounds. She could even see a few faces she recognized! It gave her a distraction for the now. Afraid or not, she hid it behind a semi cheerful masked smile. Some one had to keep morale up, even if she herself was feeling uneasy and more than a little scared. She shouldn't be here..but crying over spilt milk was pointless.

After all, she was no wiggler. There was plenty of babies running around to take that rightful title. Voscil was a big girl, and fear aside she was alive and mostly unscathed save a few scrapes, cuts and bruises from being tossed around like a rag doll. Some of her friends were safe, and their respective lusi. That counted for something right?

They had made it this far, their story wasn't over yet.

While she kept an eye on where Reemus was and Athene, she saw one particular troll standing nearly one, if not two heads above the rest. Voscil recognized him instantly, even if the memories of their race had passed into dreams. Her eyes filled with unshed tears, glad to see another familiar face at least. The adult wasn't as big as she remembered, or perhaps it was she'd just gotten a little taller. "Zeffer?! Is that you?" She cried in surprise as her psionics sparked to life, making little zapping sounds with renewed vigor. She bee-lined it for him, and his sitting against the cavern wall. Without thinking, she shut off her psionics as she dropped onto her knees before him. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She buried her face against him staying like that clutching at him. After a moment or two, Voscil's marked cheeks gave him a little nuzzle much like she'd done to her lusus. She could see he was hurt and had taken a beating. But he was okay overall. Looking up at him she smiled at him happily. "Hi again! I missed you I'm glad you're okay.." Voscil added brightly despite her outburst of emotion.

Kamileunaire.

Got that tag in :3c

 

[purplerosesbeauty]

The rocks tumbled down, blocking Eostre and the rest of the royalist troops from pursuing the rebels. The blast from the detonation threw her towards the wall, and she hit with a dull thump. She gasped, though not injured... she was pissed off. After all this, they were just going to be trapped in the caves? Was this the real extent of Regina's armies? A bunch of teenagers and wrigglers who couldn't even take out a rag-tag group of vagrants? What was the point of their missions here, when they were trapped in a goddamn cave in Chittentown. She ******** hated this city. She seethed, grinding her teeth. Her clothes were ruined, and for what? Absolutely nothing!

She stood up shakily, noticing her gloves were totally destroyed. She removed her knuckle dusters and ripped them off, exposing her bruised and scarred hands. Eostre cracked her knuckles and replaced her weapon, and punched the pile of stones keeping her stuck here with the rest of the loser royalists. She didn't care if it came crashing down on her, she was angry as hell and needed to vent on something, or someone. Pink blood. Blue blood. Who the ******** even cared anymore?

She kicked it for good measure.



----------------
Poeias managed to push Lanata up and running before the rebel leader detonated the bomb. Safely inside the new cave with the way blocked, he finally collapsed on his lusus. Her soft wool comforted him as the realization of what he'd done dawned on him. He betrayed the queen! He'd never be able to show his face in any civilized society again, or he'd be culled. He might even be culled tonight, when the Queen pushed through the rocks and found him. Why did he attack that crazed greenblood with the gun? He was scary! The Queen's army was super scary!

Poe looked around him, and realized he didn't know anyone here either. There were adults and teenagers, judging by the size and sound of them. Maybe some children like him. Not many though. Would they even let him stay, or would they attack him too, now that the fighting was over and they would discover that this stray greenblood wasn't with them at the start? He grasped Lanata's body for comfort, his bloodpusher racing.

He began to cry. Softly at first, with little sniffles and whimpers. Then full blown sobbing as he truly understood his position. Lanata was hurt too because of him, and when he was culled no one would be able to protect his flock of woolbeasts. All these trolls were like the howlbeasts that hunted him and his flock, but especially the royalist ones now... "P-please don't hurt me," he cried loudly, hoping if they noticed him they would take pity on a lame lamb.

 

[zeflamigo]

It was over... Odette's chest hurt. Suddenly all the pain that she ignored before came rushing back, and tears pooled in her eyes. It wasn't fair! None of this was fair! Every chance they had to build themselves up... Everything just came crashing down. She let out a high screech and attacked the wall, blood and tears dripping down her battered body. Eventually she collapsed to her knees, sobbing into her hands. She just wanted to prove herself. She wanted the rebellion to be strong.

But since when did she ever get what she wanted?

She laughed to herself, realizing how foolish she must have been. Wiping her face with her ruined sleeve, she turned her attention back to her comrades. She continued to cry, scanning the area for her scouts, or anyone willing to share compassion with her, really. She sincerely hoped Ganyma made it to the other side.

At the sound of Aerona's struggling, Odette ran. How could she have been so foolish to leave her? She was barely old enough to fight. Setting her eyes on the redblood, Odette hurried her pace, taking her in her arms. "Vremea!" Odette called out to her moirail, "Vremea, come quick!" Aerona was badly injured, one of Kursha's bolts sticking out of her arm.

"Aerona, Aerona look at me," Odette said, trying to keep as calm as possible with the girl quickly fading in her arms. "You're going to be alright Aerona," Odette said, holding the girl's cheek. "You fought so hard... I'm so sorry I wasn't by your side." She should have paid more attention to her... Maybe then she wouldn't be in this condition. More tears pooled in Odette's eyes. A breathy sob escaped her lips. This was all her fault.

Odette's hand descended towards the bolt. "Aerona," She warned, "I have to take this out. Vremea's going to come. She'll stop the bleeding. It's going to hurt. But everything will be alright." She smiled at the girl, trying to hide the fear in her eyes. She trusted Vremea to take care of the girl. So what was she scared of? Maybe, she feared, after all of this, Aerona would realize that she wasn't the role model she had dreamed she'd be. The one troll who looked up to her... she could lose her forever.  

[melona-pan]

As the debris settled, so did a silence fall over the Initiative and their sympathizers. Byakko stood there panting, dripping sweat and blood, knuckles white as she still clutched onto the fuse. She refused to rip her stare from the smouldering avalanche. After a few long minutes trickled by, she slumped and let out a shattered sigh. It seemed like the barrier would hold, but it wouldn't forever. There was no time to waste.

"Is everyone accounted for? Who needs medical attention?" Running a claw through her blood drenched hair, Byakko snapped to address her troops. A wave of relief washed over her as she mentally counted the familiar faces, everyone accounted for if not half battered to death. To her utmost surprise, it seemed like they had actually gained numbers. Baulking at first, the mutantblood tensed- but regardless of their intentions, they had turned on the military. They had sealed their fates on their own accord, as it was their choice to continue assisting the rebellion.

Her forces looked worse for wear, but there wasn't much time waste licking their wounds. They had to maintain a tenacious grasp on the situation. Byakko slammed the base her rainbow splattered kanabō on the dirt before her, resting both hands atop the handle as she recollected her air of control. She tipped her chin up and spoke with authority.

"We need to get the Mother Grub and whatever spawn she's laid out of here, posthaste." Byakko commanded, nodding in the direction of the increasingly distressed meows. "There's a wagon nearby that should fit her and the eggs. I need volunteers to load and transport them out of the area to safety- they'll need guards, too. The rest of us will spread out and scatter, drawing the military's attention away from the evacuation." She narrowed her eyes expectantly on the Initiative's officers and some of the more veteran rebels. She needed them to step up now, more than ever, to make this escape plan run smoothly.

"Any questions?"

Either she had all but forgotten about her mutation being outed, or she refused to allow it to divert from the task at hand.


Your choices in reply to Byakko's call for volunteers will decide what path they take in the next part of the meta. Please wait until the corresponding information is put up in the main Meta thread before making your decision.  

[Magician Arcana]

Useless and a burden. Maneki couldn't shake the feeling no matter how hard he tried. Dad was using his body to shield against debis. If the adult died, what would he do? Blame himself of course. it would be his fault, because if Maneki wasnt so weak, or so useless, or.... Or a mutant. A word that had meant nothing at first. Now the child understood it perfectly. It meant death, and fire, and destruction. It meant sticky blood in his kith and skkn, some of it, all of it, others. None of it was his. And that was due to Zeffer.

Maneki clung onto Zeffer's shirt and screamed. It was swallowed hungrily by the blast that pressed them to the wall. Maneki could only hold on as his protector fell back backwards and once again cacooned his small body in the musty jacket. So many faces flashed through his mind - Byakko, vremea, Athene, Milieu, Odette, Luxara, Forera.. the mean doctor guy and uncle reefy. Did they die? Are they alive? We're they dying?

Maneki knew what it meant to be a hunter. He loved chasing down prey, using his wits to put them in inescapable positions. And now he knew what it felt like to be the hunted, the prey. They were trapped. As the trembling calmed and ceased, Maneki lifted his head from the jacket. It was dark but very familar. It sparked memories and base emotions that were difficult to understand. His faced screwed up as he tried to understand this sensation of melancholy and nostalgia. Hunger. Struggling.. warmth.

Zeffer touch was a welcome distraction. He smiled at his Derd weakly and nodded, "I'm okay... but what about you? You kept protecting me and..." tears stung in his eyes. Maneki ducked his head down and stiffened. When he revealed his face again, he as smiling through the tears, "I always believed in you. I'm so lucky to be near trolls who care... you, Vremea, and Mermmy kept me so safe." Wiping away the tears he took a deep breath. Despite the exhaustion he felt, he was determined to keep going.

Climbing off of Zeffer, he scanned the room again. It didn't take long for him to find his target. She stood imposjng, drenched in blood and beauty. Her voice was calling for volunteers, for the next stage in their plan. Maneki could care less. Bounding from Zeffer's side, Maneki heart lept in his throat.

"MERMMY!!!!!" arms wide he launched himself from the ground at her, eager for a familiar embrace.  

[kamileunaire]

Zeffer rested quietly against the cave wall, allowing its coolness to seep into him. He knew he wouldn't have long to rest, and wanted to savor just a few seconds more. As Maneki voiced his concern, Zeffer felt his bloodpusher ache for a moment, and he offered a fangy, exhausted grin.

"Hey, it's alright." He reached out to squeeze the kid's shoulder once he caught sight of the tears, his smirk melting into something more sincere at Maneki's gratitude. "That's what this is all about, y'know? Protecting one another, and other trolls who can't protect themselves. You helped me out a lot tonight, Maneki, so I'm pretty damn lucky too." Zeffer's voice was quiet, but genuine. He'd never have guessed that toting a kid around during a surprise attack would go so well, but Maneki had proven himself to be a fighter, and had been amazingly brave throughout. Akko was going to be so proud.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Akko's voice rang out to issue further instruction, and he glanced up to listen to her. The break was over, but even the few minutes he'd spent cooling off and catching his breath had provided some relief to his battered body. There wasn't a bit of surprise as the sound of her voice caught Maneki's attention, and Zeffer snickered quietly and watched as the little mutantblood darted away to launch himself at her. He made no move to follow immediately, but used the wall to climb to his feet, and stretch out, wondering if it would be better to escort the cart, or to aid in distracting the Royalists once they managed to break through.  

[Magician Arcana]

Milieu awoke on her side, a blanket of pebbles and dust a keeping her snug. Coughing and choking on a mixture of mud and dust that permeated her mouth, the tealblood gagged and struggled to sit up. There was a wall to her back and Milieu leaned against it for supprort. Spitting, she was vaguely alarmed at the mix of dark teal in with the mud. God if the ringing in her head would stop, maybe she could recall why it was so ptoblematic. Her satchel was close, the contents spilled across the ground. Sluggishly she gathered everything, putting it right and setting it around her neck once more. Panting, milieu closed her eyes and let the cool bliss of the caves stony wall numb the burns on her body and the throbbing in her temples.

It took time, time that felt fast but must have lasted twenty or thirty minutes. Milieus body started to react naturally, her head no longer feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. Wiping off her face with what clean cloth was near, she braced agaisnt the wall and slowly stood. Nothing felt broken. Just sore and worn. Her clothes were mauled and her hair was a frayed, matted mess that looked closer to birds nest than psyche knot. Milieu tugged at the mess of hair and after a few tries, she was able to bind it into a simplementation tight bun on the back of her head.

Well one problem down. Looking around, the tealblood took stock of those still alive. It actually looked like... everyone. Relief washed across Mili. Her dear scouts were busy with their own tasks. Pain stabbes her heart. Was she so jnimportant? No, now wasnt the time for such self depreciating thoughts. Others were hurt or dying. Grabbing her satchel, she began to roam the cavern. At the very least she could dispense first aid to those who needed it

Quote:

Mili is open for first aide or comfort if anyone is in need of it!

 

[Gl!tch~]

He might have began to panic if he hadn't seen Voscil whizz by. That was one troll accounted for. Reemus sat back in partial relief, but still had to keep an eye out for Athene. She had to have made it. He refused to believe otherwise after all they'd been through.

From his experience, it was easier to find people if he was up and moving. With a huff, he tried to push himself to his knees.
His body shrieked at the effort; Reemus himself let out a yelp.

"M-mum, help."

Gillian's ears perked, and she looked up from the pile of rubble she had been sniffing. The howlbeast padded over to her charge, looking him over, poked at him with her nose, then flopped down next to him.

"Mum!"

She yawned, telling him that he shouldn't be pushing so. If they had a moment to rest, they should take it. He was in a bad enough shape already.

With no other options, Reemus could only sit back and grumble. He only looked up when a tealblood started passing by; finally, someone close enough to talk to. "Ey, uh, excuse me." He paused and squinted. There was nowhere near as much smoke in this cavern compared to the tunnels, and the white spots had disappeared from his vision. So why was looking at another troll coming out so spotty in half of his sight? "Uh. Mm. That's funny." He could not see the residue that had slightly, but permanently, burned into his eye.

Now basically staring at this troll, he had to shake his head and get back on track. "Right. Um. Sorry. Er, miss? Have you seen a troll named Athene? Green blood, hair thingies, shawl? I lost 'er in the blast. I'd look for her meself, but..." He glanced at his bare chest.

...Oh. Well, that wasn't a pretty sight, to say the least. "Uh, yeah." Looking up again, he eyed Mili's satchel. "Oh! Izzat bandaids n' stuff? You got anythin' t' make this mess a li'l more livable?" Medicine could do anything, right?

Magician Arcana

 

[Micillia]

Chiara
Royalist Side

Panting, bleeding from the flying debris and shrapnel, Chiara slowly stood up and walked to her broken and bleeding guardian. The quillbeast was limping, several of her massive, deadly spikes were broken and missing. Chiara had always seen her guardian as an impenetrable, unbreakable boulder. Now she saw the ragged beast with a new sense of fear. Her unbreakable guardian, the creature that was all that kept this blueblood alive the past few sweeps, was hurt and broken. Chiara's image of her lusus was shattered. She would need some time to wrap her head around this. In the meantime, distractions were needed.

She saw trolls she knew, trolls she had just met, and trolls she knew nothing about all in various states of agony or pain. Chiara did not want to hang around her broken guardian, she wanted to forget that the beast had sustained injuries at all. A redblooded troll caught her eye, and Chiara moved towards them. "Hey," she started lamely. Still a little shocked by it all. "You didn't break your legs or anything right? I still need those..." Chiara looked Zindel over, taking some antiseptic out of her bag, and dabbing it where the red blood was showing.

quite uneventful

 

[Green Minuet]

Kursha emerged from the debris, coughing. Thick clouds of dust filled the air and behind the smoky glow, pale silhouettes churned, fading in and out like wraiths. Compared to the pandemonium of the battle and then the explosion, everything seemed still. Quiet even. The roar of voices had stopped almost abruptly. Only a few weak voices cut through the silence. Most had succumbed to coughing. Nearby, a shower of pebbles clattered over the wreckage. The sudden noise sent a chill of unease rattling down his spine. Covering his nose and mouth, Kursha stumbled further down down the tunnel.

At last, the smoke cleared and he had escaped the worst of the detritus. Glancing around, Kursha took stock of his forces. On either side, he could see the bodies of those dead or dying. Many more writhed on the ground, suffering the agony of their wounds. Kursha spared them no second glance. He instead turned his eyes to those still standing. There were not many; only a fraction of what he had started this expedition with. He acknowledged them with a kind of hollow detachment. Even with his numbers reduced he still had the Phoenix Initiative outnumbered at least five to one.

Kursha turned his attention to the passage behind him, where the rebels had escaped. A mountain of rubble had buried the end of the tunnel, forming a wall of rock and sediment. The boulders blasted loose from the ceiling were too big too move by hand. Clearing the passage would take hours... hours that he did not have. By the time he had forged a path the rebels would be long gone.

With a hand on the wall to steady himself, Kursha took a step towards the debris. His bloodpusher beat hard in his chest. It killed him. It killed him to know that he was so close—that the rebels stood gathered no more than an stone’s throw away—yet he could not reach them. Everything he had worked for, all his preparation, all those nights of steeling his resolve… everything came down to nothing. The rebels had escaped. He had lost.

Kursha clenched his fist. His glove squelched with the sound of his own blood. Lost… lost… lost… lost… lost, lost, lost! What was the one thing he had promised himself? What was the one ******** thing he was not to do?! He had no room for error, no license for failure. He either claimed victory, or he died on the road to it. No matter how many bodies he had to climb to get there, in this one chance to redeem himself, to be worth something, he could not afford to lose.

He sucked in a ragged breath. He had not lost. Not yet. The rebels had made a critical error. They had left him alive.

Turning, Kursha looked back towards the remains of his forces. Slowly but surely, they had begun to recover and congregate. He swirled his tongue around the inside of his mouth. After a moment, he spat, and a tooth clinked onto the cave floor. He paid it no mind; his mind was set. Straightening, Kursha left the wall and marched towards the centre of his troops. Even as spasms of pain racked his body, he never stumbled or missed a step. If he was to command any kind of respect from these trolls, he could not afford to show how worn down he was. No matter that every step felt like death; he had to burn it into their minds that he was indestructible, and by association so were they.

Stepping onto a small boulder, Kursha stared out at the crowd of trolls milling about, gaze hard. His mouth was dry. “All right, folks! If you aren’t dead or deaf then I’m gonna need you listen up!” He cleared his throat and felt a trickle of blood enter his mouth. “Due to our little roadblock, there’s been a change of plans. From here on out, we work as two separate units. The first task force is to stay here in the tunnels and clear the debris. Reinforcements will be down to assist with the process, as well as aid the wounded. Once the way is clear, you continue your pursuit and block off their retreat.

“Task force two!” Kursha barked. “You’re with me. We’re going back to the base to regroup. From there we’ll track our target on the surface and cut them off in a pincer movement. We know exactly where they’ll pop up, so between an assault from the front and back they won’t have anywhere left to run. Any questions?”

Expression fierce, Kursha glared out over the crowd, daring them to challenge him. If he heard just one complaint, just one objection to his authority, he would not hesitate to shoot. There were none however.

“One last thing,” Kursha continued. “This mission has changed from an extermination to a capture and retrieval. We’re bringing them in alive.”

Hopping down from his perch, Kursha made his way through the crowd and started down the tunnel. It was not until he had passed around a corner and out of sight that he allowed himself to limp.

Your choices in reply to Kursha's demand for volunteers will decide what path they take in the next part of the meta. Please wait until the corresponding information is put up in the main Meta thread before making your decision.  

[Hivestuck]

At the Chittentown miltary base, at least on the outside, nothing had changed. After the raiding party had moved out, the queen had given a slightly unimpressed look at the remaining trolls and vanished back into the building, the doors locking behind her. Those trolls who's ambivalence outweighed risk continued to line up for their medicals, and the young trolls still sat around chatting, eating, and gazing up at the impressive structure of the main hive.

Inside, drones hurried too and fro, passing on directions and missives. In the inner courtyard of the base, separated from the main entrance by tall hiveblocks and long passageways, a sizable army was forming up into small troops and exciting by the back exit, the one leading up out of Chittentown's ravine and into the dunes above. Camoflauged in sand-coloured gear and paint, the troops spread out into the desert. If the rebels decided to try and seek safety in the shelter of the sifting sands, they would only find the waiting embrace of the queen's long arm.