Welcome to Gaia! ::

Coughing up blood, Julio stared down at Em as she continued to smile. It was so like her to keep that. But he too, was smiling. How could he not? When he had her now, even as they were dying together. Just one last time, he wanted to kiss those lips. One last one, before they were sent off.

The mist hunter could barely move, nor could he see all too well any longer. The most he was able to do was shift his head up a bit, with his lips lightly brushing against the corner of hers. Not quite a full kiss, but it was all he could manage at this point. In his mind though, he had hit it right on the spot.

Blood continued to seep out of his wound, as well as from his mouth.

Mi querida, there's a light up ahead.. Can you see it? I think it's time.. the ball, is it dropping?

It still wasn't time for that. Not yet.

Come... let's go see it. We'll kiss through the New Year like we've never before.

With one final shudder, his body grew still. Physically, his heart came to a stop.

((Julio Perez has died))

Melly was about to pout a little bit at the rest of the team for not accepting her awesome nicknames but before she really had a chance ... it was time to go. As they made their way to the building, the girl was oddly silent for once, staring around at all the partying, the people around them completely oblivious to their approaching doom. It was amazing really ... even with all the hype about the world ending on the eve of the millennium, they didn't seem to care. It was just another opportunity to get drunk and go wild.

.... She wasn't even technically old enough to drink yet. And now, she probably never would be.

s**t s**t, no! No depressing thoughts, dammit!

Shaking her head quickly to re-focus, Melly looked up just in time to see thousands of birds descending upon them, and above the winged menace ... what looked vaguely like a figure, pacing through the clouds above them. She let out a scream as she ducked, lashing about with her dagger but failing to do any real damage. There were just too many of them, and every one seemed bent on murder.

"GET AWAY!!" she shrieked, waving her arms around frantically, trying to ignore the blood spilling from various wounds. Then suddenly, they were gone - as if nothing had happened. Melly looked around, a bit dazed ... and realized that Aiden had thrown himself in front of Ralph Piglet when the attack started. He looked pretty badly hurt ...

"Hold still," she murmured, going to kneel beside him, and pulling out her bandages.

(( HP: 25/40 ))

Ahahahaa, so there was that. Was it real love that they'd felt, or merely a love they gathered because of the tension that had mounted around them? Was it really love, or that suspension-bridge effect that Lowe had been warned about by several older hunters? Mistaking fear and stress for love, and all that?

No. Lowe had loved Marsh, and he had loved Em. Not to the same degree of course, as Em had loved Julio and she was someone he could adore as a person, but it was an oddly comforting feeling to know he was capable of loving someone again.

It was too late though, the person he could claim feelings for rested above him, immobile. Lowe wanted to cry but all he could do was vomit and leak, blood and bile in an endless dance.

LITTLE ********, YOU DEAD YET?

Afzal's voice cackled into his mind, the voulge resting against his leg. Lowe winced, either from the pain or the noise, and he kept his eyes focused on Marsh's dead face. He couldn't look for much longer as his other eye burst, the final wave of pressure too hard for his brain to handle.

His neck snapped, his vision went white as a roar invaded his ears.

HURRY UP. HURRY UP. THE NEW YEAR'S ALMOST HERE, I DON'T WANT YOU TO MAKE IT.

There was no response from Lowe other than a faint gurgle as blood spilled from his mouth in a violent wave, coloring the rest of his white jacket a lovely shade of frothy crimson.

No birthday kisses this year too, no pinatas and presents for the boy who was the Star of the New Year because of his birth. No more missions where he fought like he wanted to die, with no one to protect.

No more necklaces and bracelets, hidden around.

Lowe Merryweather was dead.

and Afzal.....? Just cackled.

FAREWELL, LITTLE ********. YOU WERE USELESS.

[ Lowe has passed on ]

When the birds had finally departed, Mercutio looked down to find his body ripped to shreds. There were cuts everywhere; heck, there were cuts on his cuts. Years of being a hunter had cut his body up- it was part of the job really at this point- but the carnage had never been quite this bad.

They had at least made it to their supposed destination (the roof) in one piece at least- that was a plus right? It was a big strategy in sports to think positively. The better your mood, the better you played after all. This was a team sport too- he needed to keep morale up for everyone; especially since the headset was relaying some pretty negative words.

"Thanks," he said to Dylan, as the other hunter patched him up. He looked down at the small grey scarf that Aki had given him, which made his eyes flit to the teal one around his own neck. Everyone at Deus Ex had a uniform, a scarf. It tied them together. Right now, he was regretting keeping it around his neck.

Reaching into his own pocket, Mercutio's hand felt around for the bandaids he himself had brought. The small wraps spilled out of his pocket, and he began to wrap places that Dylan had missed as best he could.

Juh-juh-jesus-

Dylan had begun stuttering some sort of odd prayer while he fixed Merc up. Now he was no practicing Christian- heck, he wasn't even religious at this point- but Mercutio thought a prayer sounded pretty damn good actually.

Jesus, I swear to God, if you're up there- if you let us live I'll become a monk and never hurt a fly ever again. A sad smile cracked across his face as he realized the prayer would never be fulfilled anyways. If he lived, he'd stay a hunter forever, and if he died, he'd be dead. He was a pawn.

Now that he finally had a moment to look around, he glanced at the stairs where they'd come from, and the roof around him. He instantly regretted it. There were bodies everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. Mercutio thought he recognized a few of them. Even if he'd been on countless missions where friends had died, Mercutio had never really numbed himself to the disgusting death that always resulted. He resisted the urge to vomit.

At Aki's command Merc nodded and weakly said, "Can do boss."

HP: 35

With the helmet on she was getting antsy. Her sight was piss poor, to put it bluntly, and she was absolutely blind to her direct surroundings. What was going on? Were the rest of her team here yet or not—Flair reached up to temporarily pull the helmet off her head. She swallowed slowly. Perhaps it would have been better if she had kept the damn equipment on. There was blood everywhere. Corpses littered the building and no matter where she looked there were smears of blood and scattered feathers across the rooftop. Her expression remained startlingly calm when she took in the conditions of her teammates. She barely had a scratch on her, thanks to Mercutio, but unfortunately the runic hunter could not have shared the same fate. Scratches and streaks of red streamed down his body, which was also covered in feathers. Flair forced herself to take in the peeling skin and raw flesh that decorated her teammates’ bodies. Well, fortunately everyone else wasn’t in worse shape.

She sucked in a shaky breath as she watched Dylan tend to Mercutio’s wounds and as Nico and Aki began to guard. The scene in front of her was gruesome, but this was normal. So surprisingly normal, right? Glare’s gruff voice murmured in her head. It was smooth, even, and most of devoid of fear and panic. He was a gargoyle with a rock-solid calmness that almost-but-not-quite matched Flair’s. His cool demeanor reassured the woman, allowing her to don the helmet once more.

“Be careful everyone,” she called out as she directed the Argus into the air. Flair could hear the disc softly whirring beneath the screams and shouts in her headsets, but they were beginning to quiet now. She took a beat to pause when she realized what it meant.

Death. Cold, silent, merciless death. There was laughter in her thoughts, but it was neither hers nor Glare’s. That’s going to be you pretty soon. Flair shook her head. Don’t think that!

She guided the Argus between the skyscrapers. Silence.



Flair almost regretted it, almost. Did she really want to know?

What was he supposed to say? Clint couldn't think of anything. A pep talk would be ridiculous when every time someone died it could be heard over the headset. Screams of terror, crunching noises, hellish sounds that made a part of him wish he could take the damn thing off, pretend that the birds were the only problem that they had, but Clint knew that wasn't anywhere near the truth.

They were waiting. Listening to the same people that had so happily been kissing and partying it up die, one by one or several at a time. Their sounds, their cries, they lingered in his ears long after the ones that had made them passed from this world.

What was on the other side? He was standing right at the door, and knew, somewhere deep in his soul, that it would only be a matter of moments before he found out. Dear Jesus, he hoped he'd been right in clinging secretly to his beliefs.

"Father forgive me," he whispered, under his breath. "For I have sinned."

"I want you two to be careful." Profe warned at the starting line, his fingers lightly touching upon his headset. While Gear and Titania were both of the moon division, skilled at defense, Profe couldn't discount the many possibilities that laid ahead of them. He couldn't help but remember the odd anomalies that he had seen at their last battle; the several cloaked figures that moved with aimless purpose. A feeling of unease remained rooted in the back of his mind.

And so, they began. But the final assault attacked them swiftly, marking them all with a cruel fate."Titania, Gear." He heard the their screams ringing over the headset, in what must have been a few seconds but dragged on for eternity, before the overwhelming pressure pressed forced him to the ground. "TITANIA! GEAR!" He called out once more, looking around for the source of the attack. He was forced down on one knee, the red liquid emerged from his coughs and stained the ground. "It can't be.." His pupils widened, the realization struck him far too late, finally realizing the immense enemy that they had challenged.

Pain filled his entire body, his screams coming out as silent screams as his body writhed on the ground. Gloved hands clutched at the ground, hoping for some sort of relief from the agony and torment that his body suffered but only grasped at dirt. -- He tried to lift his hand to reach for the sky but he could no longer move his limbs.

"Get up.. GET UP.. we-..pro-protect Profe..." The words came in, muted by static over the headphones. Protect him? Even now? What a futile pursuit. And still, he felt a grin tug at his lips. How ironic.. Titania and Gear, they were concerned for their teammates rather than themselves, even while being injured. How foolish. It was so incredibly foolish.

"You idiots. I'm already-" His barely whispered words were cut off by another surge of pain. And yet he couldn't help but envy them. T-They were saying something else but Profe could no longer hear anything.

Would he die here? Still, there had been one last promise. Profe couldn't help but reflect that humans were cruel creatures after all. They must have all known that they couldn't fulfill it, yet they needed a last substantial hope to carry them in their last battles. "Sorry.. we couldn't have the fun we promised after all." He murmured. Andy, Caelius, Titania, and Gear.. he was leaving them all behind. And yet, he couldn't feel regret for them. He couldn't say that he had much regrets in life.. No, he had done as he wished. He had left behind all attachments when he crossed the boundaries of science to become a life hunter. He had let his scientific ambition consume him and erased all remnants of what it meant to be human. The life of a hunter had been a game. His entire life had been a game, a scientific gamble if you would call it that. His death had been inevitable.

Surely on the outside, on the surface, he had made friends and enjoyed himself with people. But even in his last moments, he couldn't cry. What sort of person did that make him? "I wish...." His wish would forever remain unfinished, unknown to everybody else but him.

With the final fall of his body, his guns dropped with a deafening finality. A chess piece rolled away from the lifeless hunter.