Affinity

[angstymochi]

Zora Levitskaya
Location: Mirefield | Interactions: None | Mentions: None

☁︎​

Zora hurried down the streets of Mirefield, clutching her bag in front of her. She hated Mirefield. She hated the Insurgency. Why couldn't everyone just calm down and stop fighting so poor researchers like herself wouldn't have to trudge through enemy territory to find their stupid goddamn sisters?

With a deep breath, Zora kept walking as fast as she could, desperate to get out of this stupid city. Izzy wasn't here. Zora had been looking for weeks now, and hadn't seen a trace of her reckless little sister. Of course she wasn't here. After all that work, she was probably living a nice life in Bexley. Or she was dead. Either way, Zora was going to kill her when she found her.

After nearly an hour of walking, Zora made it to the Andromeda. The passenger ship was headed for Bexley, and Zora was determined to leave this place once and for all. Surely Izzy would be in the Insurgency capitol. That would be the obvious choice for anyone running from the Republic.

Soon, Zora was safe in the sky, leaning over the railing and watching Mirefield disappear into the distance.

Why did Izzy have to run, anyways?

 

[kixinorbit]

[fieldbox="Wren Donaghue and Izzy Levitskaya, #B69F6A, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"] Location: Mirefield Alleyways > Theatre

---

As the darkness of the evening deepened and the minutes ticked ever onward, Wren again cast glances toward Izzy and Lee. Some part of Wren was proud that he remembered their names. Another part of him, however, was beginning to wonder why he found such small instances of memory to be victories. Surely he hadn't always been like that, had he? No one else seemed to struggle with recalling names or places or events long past. But then, he reasoned with himself, few others had been Republic experiments.

And that was why it was so important that he was here now. He couldn't have dreamt he might go from stealing food and clothing to doing something as important as preventing the Republic from getting a Source.

...if only he could remember how he knew about Sources.

A slight shifting of shadow drew Wren's attention back to the present, and he cast his pale eyes upward to the roof. For the briefest moment he could've sworn he'd seen a figure moving there, but seemed to notice nothing below, as it had moved on. A furtive glance at Lee suggested that nothing had gone wrong, though the man seemed...off. It may have been the dim light, but it looked as though he was wearing a surprisingly grim expression. Perhaps, like Mathias, he was worried about things going wrong.

Before Wren could dwell on the matter, however, the sound of footsteps drew his attention and he listened as Fia quietly conversed with Lee.

It was time to go.

As he was motioned forward, Wren obeyed, silently winding his way through dark alleys, rifle clutched firmly in his hands. On and on they walked, creeping through the shadows and picking their way closer to the theatre. Again, Wren caught glimpses of shadows above them, and this time there was no doubt that guards were positioned on the rooftops.

Pausing as Lee moved forward to incapacitate a guard, Wren had to appreciate how efficient the man was. He did, however, wonder whether or not they should more carefully conceal the guard's body once he'd been bound and gagged, though he did not want to question his commander. Instead, he continued on in silence, darting across the alley to where Lee waited.

Upon receiving instructions, Wren looked up at Izzy. "I'll go to the left," he said, his lilting voice barely more than a whisper.

Izzy responded with a quick nod and drew her batons from her back before heading into the theatre.

Wren was somewhat curious as to why Lee wasn't coming with them into the theatre. Wren didn't exactly know what the Source looked like, though he supposed it would be difficult to miss… Another part of him squirmed at the thought of a stranger watching the door. What if this was a trap? What if he shut them in there and he was captured and sent back to the Republic labs? What if they were waiting inside the theatre?

Wren could feel his heart beginning to race, and he took a slow, calming breath. No. These people were good. They wouldn't do that to him.

Or at least he hoped they wouldn't. And, for now, hope was all he had.

As Lee wished them luck, Wren cocked his head to one side and asked quietly, "isn't it bad to say 'good luck' in a theatre? Are you not supposed to 'break a leg'?"

With a vague smile, Wren turned back to the theatre entrance and quietly slipped past the door, making his way through the dimly-lit backstage area. As he hurried along through the wings, the stage lit only by the glow of the single ghost light, he poked his head through the doorway on stage left and glanced down the long hallway.

Izzy hurried down the hallway, quickly looping back when she didn't find anything. No guarded rooms, no suspiciously locked doors; there was nothing. There was a suspicious lack of guards within the theatre itself, for all of the ones posted outside. Either they trusted the exterior guards too much, or there was some nasty surprise waiting for Izzy and the strange man she was with. She sincerely hoped it was the former, but she had a sinking feeling the latter might be correct.

Frost crept across one of her batons; her thumb must have been pressing on the ice rune etched into the weighted metal. She adjusted her grip, and the ice began melting.

"Shit," she muttered, glancing at the trail of water droplets she was leaving from the ice. She couldn't do anything about it without drawing too much attention, so she let the rest of the ice melt off and wiped the wet baton on her pants before returning to the backstage area.

Peering down the long, dark hall, Wren crept into the empty corridor and made his way silently along. Boots that fit properly made a great difference and the man's footfalls were quiet and precise, no longer tripping on old and overlarge soles. Swiftly and silently, Wren continued down the hall, sparing glances for the few doors set along each wall. Some were marked as dressing rooms, others as wardrobe storage, but all were empty and dark.

As he neared the end of the hall, Wren could see that it turned a corner and there, just beyond, he could see the faintest glow of light. Carefully, he crept closer to the corner, easing himself slowly forward in a crouch. Then, a voice made him freeze in place, one hand closed tightly around the rifle. The voice was not addressing him, he realized, but giving orders to someone in a harsh tone.

This had to be it.

With no further hesitation, Wren hurried back down the hall just as quietly as he'd come. In a matter of moments, he'd returned to the area backstage where they'd split apart, pale eyes searching the dark space for Izzy.

"Did you find it?" Izzy whispered urgently.

Wren nodded as he approached her. "I believe so," he whispered. "The hall is dark, but there is light around the corner, and voices giving orders."

"Perfect. I'll take out the guards; you grab the Source." She unhooked her flask from her belt and poured some of the water in her hand. "Let's go have some fun, shall we?"

Watching with a quizzical expression as the woman poured water into her hand, Wren tapped a finger on his rifle, seemingly in thought. "We should use separate directions," he mused aloud. "There may be several guards. One can draw them away?" he asked, making a vague motion with his hand.

The halls were narrow, and he didn't want to restrict movement any more than necessary. If they approached the room from opposite sides, they could hopefully draw the guards away in one direction and have the other free to access the Source.

Izzy crept down the hall and peeked around the corner. There were five guards outside one of the rooms, and one man giving them orders. As she watched, the man giving orders turned and began walking straight towards her with one of the guards. "Well, fuck," she whispered. She formed two tiny blades in her palm with the ice and waited for them to come closer. She stepped back and clenched her fist, pressing her thumb to the rune on her glove. When they turned the corner, she thrust out her fist, and both the man and his guard's eyes widened. They trembled a bit, and frost began creeping over their eyes and lips. She opened her other hand and threw the two blades; one embedded itself in the man's forehead and the other in the guard's stomach.

Izzy unclenched her fist and rubbed her forehead as a throbbing pain blossomed up between her eyes. "I should have saved the theatrics," she muttered before glancing back around the corner. The four guards outside the room hadn't heard or seen a thing.

From his position at the far end of the hall, Wren could make out the forms of six people. He could faintly hear one man addressing the others, though his speech was not loud. Likely, they didn't want to draw too much attention to themselves, either. After a moment, two of the men split apart from the group and turned the corner. Wren had to assume that Izzy had dealt with them, as there had been no sound of gunfire and no shouts of alarm. The four remaining guards stayed in place, effectively blocking Wren's access to the room. How Izzy would manage to draw all four of them away from the door without causing a stir, he wasn't sure.

After a moment of thought, Wren backed around the corner at the other end of the hall and withdrew a single bullet from his coat. Dropping the bullet onto the ground, he watched as it rolled out from behind the corner. The metallic clink had carried down the hallway, just enough to raise suspicion.

"What was that?" The guards' voices were quiet, but he could just make them out. "Not sure. You go check, we'll stay here."

Quietly, one of the guards broke away from the door and headed down the length of the hall to where Wren waited around the corner, ready.[/fieldbox]

 

[Lillian Gray]

Clarke - First in Command



Location | Old Adelaide Opera and Theatre Company
Mood | Cautious
Mentions | Izabella @Bjorn Roger @BlueFlameNikku Wren @DinoFeather Esther @espoir Fia @Kimberlyn Wylan @mingummy Bee @Mundane Monster Kingsley @Spectre of the Fade

When the wooden box had come out initially, no one had paid it any mind. It was a curious trinket from the edge of the world, where ruins were covered in thick mounds of snow and forgotten by the Republic and Insurgency alike. They were locked in a decades long war, they hadn't the time for exploration or discovery in the freezing tundras North of the oceans. Without having opened it, Matthias never would have guessed that the Source was safely tucked away beneath a layer of weathered black silk. The Major nudged Fia, and she quickly exited the auction.

Within minutes it had been purchased by a raven haired woman with a crimson smile on her lips. Matthias narrowed his eyes in study. Who was she, and what did she know about the box she had paid almost six million credits for? There was something about her voice, when she spoke, that reminded him of someone. Matthias knew her.

As if the woman had known he was staring, she turned to face Matthias and offered a wicked grin that made the skin on the back of his neck crawl. She kissed the tips of her fingers and flared them out with a wink and a wave. Another woman at her side made a disgusted face at the raven haired one's gesture. Matthias gripped his chest. With one look into her eyes, he knew.

It wasn't possible.

Matthias tore his eyes away as panic filled every limb down to his bones. He had to leave. He had to get out. Everyone had to get out of Mirefield, and they had to do it now. If she was here that only spelled disaster for anyone involved.

He fingered the small pistol at his hip and contemplated his options. Starting a gunfight in the middle of a black market auction wasn't the wisest choice. But he couldn't help but think about it. Two seconds is all it would take. Two seconds to march up to the raven haired woman and -

The lights all went out at once, shutting off Matthias' murderous train of thought. That wasn't part of their plan.

"What happened to the lights?" A woman shrieked.
"What is the meaning of this!" Another huffed.
"Where are the guards?" A third called. "This had better not be a scam."

"Now, everyone, please remain calm-" The auction head hushed the crowd and ignited a small orb in the palm of his hand. "This is an old building, and we rely on a sole generator. It probably just needs a boost. Please, there is nothing to fear."

The pale glow of the orb illuminated the masked faces around the room. The raven haired woman and her companion were gone now, as were several others. As if they'd disappeared into the darkness. Some headed for the door, while those who had spent their credits remained seated. The auction head begged the crowd not to disperse but it was in vain. They were spooked, and it was better to be far away than caught in the middle of any trick. Especially to those who hadn't spent a single coin. Matthias rose to leave as well now that his part was done, merging into the panicked group onto the streets of Mirefield. He ducked into the first alley he could find and broke into a sprint. As he reached the marked point he had sent the group to, he heard a terrible noise in the distance and the sky lit up with debris and smoke.

He had to find Kingsley. They had to leave. They had to go.

Major William Nordy

Location | The Skydocks - Mirefield, Netima
Mood | Irritable, On Alert
Mentions | @Kit Kat Esther @Mundane Monster Bee @BlueFlameNikku Roger

A lone figure stood at the outermost edge of the skydocks, looking on with an almost sinister fascination at their winding pathways. The hour was growing later, the sun nothing more than a speck of light on the horizon. Rays danced across the metal beams of the docks and flared against open sol sails, giving an almost daytime mirage to the area. The illusion was short lasting as the last traces of true daylight disappeared into the West with one last shimmer on the sails of the docked vessels. The man traced a leather gloved hand across the railing, rubbing his fingers together in disgust at the amount of oily residue the action produced. He sighed, and turned away from the skydocks.

Buzzing began to emit from his earpiece.

Nordy pressed two fingers against the small device and returned a sidelong gaze to the expansive skydocks as he focused on the voice coming from the other end of the earpiece. He was greeted by a familiar, sickly sweet call. She was something of an anomaly. Her voice like sour honey, her personality like a sweet lemon. An oxymoron. A selfish genius without a clue or care of what was beneath her. A scientist who didn't look for solutions and innovation, but rather methods to attain control through cruel experimentation.

Verdenelli was a rose with thorns as thick as knives.

"Nordy, darling, we have a slight problem." He could imagine the smirk on her plump red lips, even though they had to have been miles apart by now. He could imagine the twinkle in her eye, too. Problems often meant creative solutions. And those? They meant Verdenelli was up to something. "I'm going to need you to go ahead with Plan B, and meet me on the Kolossi when you're finished. Alright, honey?"

"For the hundreth..." Nordy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "It's Major Nordy to you. Not sweetheart, not honey, not- Give me ten minutes and I'll rendezvous at the ship."

"Oh, Major Nordy, you always ruin the fun."

"Verdenelli. Cut the crap. Explain the situation."

"Fine, ugh, you really are such a borish man." All the sugar and spice disappeared from her voice when she replied. "Someone has cut the power, and I believe there may soon be an attempt to steal my latest purchase. I will not tolerate thieves. I might've left this city in peace with the prize in my hands, but at present it's locked away until this power conundrum is dealt with. So Nordy? Sweet Nordy. Let me handle this."

"You know what it means if I start lighting shit up, Verdenelli. Are you sure-."

"Plan B, Nordy, burn it all to the ground." She hissed through the device. "I want every ship in ashes by midnight. I'm calling in Titan. No one leaves this city. And if you ever question my orders again, I'll have your pretty little head."

There was static, then nothing.

Nordy walked with purposefully slow motions across the ground level of the skydocks. There were a half a dozen elevators in plain view, the rest further out. Every few feet he took a small lump of clay from his pocket and slapped it onto the supports keeping the skydocks in place with lackadaisical enthusiasm. They each glowed a simple line of runes once in place and marked the deliberate trail Nordy had walked.

One by one, until the oddly shaped explosives covered the supporting framework of the intricate structure.

There was hardly anyone paying attention to the Republic Major with a block of ivory clay. Nordy whistled as he walked. A lump here, another there. It was a bit like a game. Although the objective wasn't something as simple as a child's sport. A passerby gave him an odd look, but didn't say anything. The Republic uniform was enough to intimidate most strangers, who avoided confrontation entirely. Even if it was a ceasefire zone it was still tense.

He threw the last of the clay onto an unfortunate ship and left the area entirely. Nordy pulled a trigger from inside his coat, completely white with the amount of runes illuminating its surface. He pressed a simple button on the top of the trigger with his thumb and a resounding crash came from behind him as the supports began to cripple and falter under the weight of the docks. Black smoke filled the vicinity as docked ships began to shift and fall without the support of the docks keeping them down. Civilians began to scream in abject horror as the realization of the destruction hit them. Figuratively, and quite literally, as wood and metal debris began to rain down from the docks.

Nordy chuckled.

"Boom."

 

[angstymochi]

Izabella Levitskaya & Wren Donaghue

Location: Old Adelaide Opera and Theatre Company | Mentions: @Spectre of the Fade | Collab between @DinoFeather, @Bjorn, & @Lillian Gray

❅​

Izzy let out a long breath as she watched one of the guards break away from the rest, following a sound like a bullet falling to the floor on the other side of the hall. She let out a low whistle, then stepped back into the darkness of the corridor as she waited for the other three to come to her.

Two guards came rounding the corner, but before they could alert the other guard, Izzy held her hands out in front of her and clenched her fists so her fingers touched the runes on her gloves, flash freezing the blood in both of their bodies. The throbbing behind her eyes intensified as Izzy grabbed the guards by the ankles and dragged them further into the darker corridor.

She glanced back around the corner. The other guard was looking suspiciously in her direction, unfortunately, and caught a glimpse of her before she could pull her head away.

"Hey, you there! You aren't allowed back here!" The guard shouted, and Izzy heard footsteps approaching. She quickly stepped out from the corridor and made a fist again, freezing his blood the same way she did to the other two.

The guard making his way to the far end of the hall paused as he neared the corner, his gun held at the ready. When nothing happened, he took another step forward and prodded the loose bullet with the toe of his boot.

"The hell…?"

Realizing what the object was, the guard immediately snapped his head up-- just too late to avoid the butt of Wren's rifle. Swinging the gun like a bat, Wren brought it down hard across the back of the guard's head. The man dropped like a rock and, for half a moment, Wren feared that the other guards would take notice, but it seemed they were too preoccupied with Izzy.

Quickly and quietly, Wren slung the rifle over his shoulder and hauled the guard's body around the corner and out of sight. Without a second thought, he withdrew the small knife he'd taken from the armory, and slit the man's throat as he lay unconscious. He wouldn't be waking up to bother them. No sooner had he sheathed the knife, Wren heard a man shout.

With the provided distraction, Wren bolted for the door the men had been guarding. As he turned the corner, he saw the final guard raising a gun at Izzy, but the man went suddenly rigid and collapsed before Wren reached them. Sliding to a halt in front of the old and rather unassuming door, Wren caught a glimpse of Izzy dragging the body around the corner and into the dark hall.

Half afraid the door would be locked, Wren was delighted to find that the door was, in fact, open. Cautiously, he pushed it open far enough to slip into the small, cramped room.

For one heart-stopping moment, Wren quailed at a shadow cast on the wall to his left and very nearly cried out before he realized it was nothing more than a dressform.

His hands were shaking as he reached up to smooth his uneven hair out of his face. He was fine. They were not here. He was fine. He needed to get the Source. Quickly!

Shaking but resolute, Wren searched the room with keen eyes. It appeared to be a sort of storage room, and a wide variety of objects and trinkets were lying about. Most of the items were innocuous-- wig stands, vases, prop chalices, old brushes-- which made the intricate box on a far counter seem all the more conspicuous. It appeared to be incredibly old, and Wren opened it with caution. Inside was a small, uncut gem. For all the pomp and circumstance surrounding the acclaimed Sources, it was rather unimpressive. More than anything, Wren thought, it looked like an old chunk of red glass, roughly cut to the size of an egg.

Reaching out a now-steady hand, Wren made to remove the small gem from the box, but hesitated. Something was telling him that it wasn't a good idea to touch the thing… He couldn't quite remember, but he seemed to recall someone saying bad things would happen if a person touched a Source. But, he reasoned, it would make more sense to leave the box here. If he left the room otherwise untouched, it may take a few moments longer for people to realize the Source had been stolen. A few moments could mean life or death. But...hadn't someone told him not to touch it?

Compromising, he quickly ripped off a piece of his threadbare shirt and picked up the Source using the fabric. He took a few seconds to wrap the gem tightly in the fabric scrap before tucking it into an inner pocket of his coat. Closing the box, Wren hastened from the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

"Did you get it?" Izzy half-whispered. "The Source?"

Wren was on the verge of breaking the good news to Izzy, when he stopped and shook his head. "No," he said, "It wasn't there-- I could not find it." He wasn't sure what made him lie, but something had told him it was the safest option.

"Fuck," Izzy muttered. Where else could it be?

Behind the secluded pair, Verdenelli tossed her black auction mask to the ground. It was pointless now. And with the power gone there was little reason to worsen her already compromised eyesight. She crossed her arms and scowled at the two black silhouettes in her sights as she shook out her raven locks. Her fingers wove absentmindedly through the dark locks as she addressed the two.

Even in the dark, runes tattooed in white ink along her hands were plainly visible. They emitted enough light to show the malice in her eyes.

"Well now, what are we doing back here?" She cooed. "The power is out, my guards are missing, and I find two strangers in my midst." She took a slow step towards them. Verdenelli didn't know what they had or hadn't stolen, or if they were thieves at all, but she disliked their skulking in the dark. Her attention darted between the lanky man, the sharp looking girl, and the door to the side. Something wasn't adding up.

Izzy stood frozen, her fingers creeping towards her flask of water, watching the woman approach with narrowed eyes. Her eyes involuntarily darted to the room that they had thought held the Source.

"I see." Verdenelli hummed as the pieces of her little puzzle fell into place. "Are you here for it, too?"

She took another deliberately slow step towards them and extended her reach. The runes on her arm dancing in anticipation of whatever they might touch. Her slender grasp paused just short of contact and her face dropped.

"You're not leaving here alive with it."

Wren gave a start as the sound of something clattering to the floor reached his ears, prompting him to turn. At the sight of the woman behind them, his form went rigid and he stared at her with a mix of hazy recognition and fright.

Why did he know this woman? And why was he unable to move?

Cold terror ran up his spine as a final recognition swept over him.

She had been there. She had been there with them.

Verdnelli's expression only darkened as a soft noise emitted from her earpieces. She did her best to ignore the frantic voice on the other end. At the moment, she was rather occupied with the two could-be thieves. She took yet another step forward, but finally relented as the earpiece emitted a sharp frequency with the screaming coming through.

Another woman rounded the corner but didn't say a word, instead bolting straight inside the store room where the Source had been only seconds prior. Verdenelli's eyes shifted for half a second to the door before going back between the man and woman.

"It seems you didn't take it after all. Now stay out of my way." She threatened and retreated into the storeroom with the mysterious addition.

Izzy shook the man's shoulder, wishing she knew his name. "We need to leave. Fuck the Source, I'm not dying here tonight. Let's go."

Wren was still frozen as he watched the two women vanish into the room he'd just left. He needed to go-- needed to run! But his body felt numb, as though it existed in some far away place. His breath was coming in short, ragged gasps.

And then, all he could see were shadows, figures moving over him, faces leering down at him-- there was blinding pain behind his eyes, in his head-- a gloved hand was reaching toward his face and--

"NO!" He shrieked the word as Izzy's hand clamped on his shoulder, shaking him. The sudden start brought him to enough of his senses that he registered her retreating form. She had shouted something at him, but he'd not processed exactly what. Something in the far back of his mind was screaming at him to move, to run!

Izzy took off running back the way they came, quickly navigating to the opposite side of the theatre, like Kingsley had instructed.

Somehow, Wren wrenched his heavy feet from the floor and sprinted along the hall after Izzy, bolting out of the theatre behind her.

 

[junebug]

The explosion from afar was enough to bring Esther to her sensibilities. She dropped her wrench and hopped off the couch, leaving the small, unfinished robot to its devices. "Bee!" she called out. The girl had been in the kitchen. "Come with me."

She surfaced to the top deck, eyes wide. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. The docks were exploding, one by one, heading towards their ship. "Shit," she muttered. "Guys, we're under attack obviously. Matti, Kingsley, and the others haven't come back yet. We have to contact them, find them. Bee, you'll stay on ship, keep an eye out for anyone who seems out of place."

She maneuvered towards where the guns were stored on ship and tossed Bee a pistol without warning.

"Just pull the trigger if you see anyone bad, Bee. Don't shoot until you know for sure they're republic. Kill them."

She dug for her own favorite weapons and stuck them in the side of her pants.

"Roger, get geared up. The war's already begun and the last thing I want is for our friends to get hurt. We're going out."

Esther had her own plans to get back at those bastards, but right now, getting her friends back was more important. Esther ran down the plank of the ship and pressed her fingers to her earpiece. "Matti, Kingsley, Republic's on our tails. Where are you guys and where are the others?"

 

[BlueFlameNikku]

Roger Roads - Top Deck ----> The Docks

Roger having barely skimmed through the beginning of Esther's diary immediately took cover behind the ships railing once he heard the first explosion. Within the next second the diary was tucked away onto his person and he was aiming out at the docks with his arc rifle resting against the same wooden railing where he'd just been sitting. He watched the chain of explosions and traced it back to its origin but it was too far away to get any real details without a scope or binoculars. His eyes and body moved side to side like a machine scanning for potential threats.

The ex soldier ignored Esther's obvious beginning remarks. "I'm on it." He'd respond to being told to gear up and head out. But before he ran off towards the stern of the ship he'd stop next to Bee and breath out a sigh knowing how she wasn't the most combative individual. "Don't point that at anything your not willing to kill, Bee. If your in trouble use your ear piece and call me back, I can get back here in no time." He'd give her a quick nod after making sure the gun was ready to fire if she needed to before continuing on his way.

Since Roger had basically damaged most of his prior combat gear it would be useless though it wasn't much of a bad thing. Until he could repurpose and change it's look he might be mistaken for an enemy in the heat of battle if he wore it anyways. Within a short time he reached his destination, his sky bike; in better condition than when he'd arrived thanks to dear Esy. Despite the current situation he cracked a prideful smile before hopping onto his vehicle and bringing it to life with a quick sequence of buttons and a twist to the bike's handle bars. The sol sails opened with the stored energy from the previous day and he was off flying low and quickly making up the lost distance between himself and Esther.

He'd idle the sky bike next to Esther and hold out a hand offering to help her onto the back seat; time was of the essence. "Esy, hop on. You navigate and I'll pilot."

@Kat
@Cosmic Penguin

 

[Lillian Gray]

Clarke - First in Command



Location | Old Adelaide Opera and Theatre Company; Alley
Mood | High Alert
Mentions | Kingsley @Spectre of the Fade

"Lee? Lee!" Matthias panted. "Answer me dammit."

Matthias tumbled through the path he had drawn out for Kingsley to the back of the auction house. It wasn't far. Each hurried step wasn't quick enough for his panicked thoughts. Blood pumped loud in his ears and his vision was clouded with fear. Find Kingsley. Gather the crew. Get out.

Get out.

It was all coming together in his mind. The approaching Dreadnought, the Republic presence in the otherwise neutral city of Mirefield? And her. Verdenelli. This was some kind of power play but Matthias was too frazzled to put all the pieces in place. Dreadnought. Republic. Verdenelli. The words spiraled in his mind like a mangled mantra.

"Esther?" Matthias didn't break his stride as Esther's voice came through his earpiece. "Esther listen to me. Get the ship ready to go. I want everyone on the deck five minutes ago, and we are leaving. Do you understand? Do not wait for me. Just go!"

Matthias kicked open the door in his way and sighed dramatically at the sight of Kingsley next to an old generator. He could have kissed him right then and there. But there wasn't time for that. He hunched over with his hands on his knees for a brief moment to catch his breath. With his mouth still breathing towards the dirt he spit out a name.

"Verdenelli." He huffed. "Here. She's here."

 

[Mundane Monster]

Oh gods. Everything was happening so fast. She didn't think she could do this. But she had to! But she didn't think she could! And now she had a gun?! And Esther told her to shoot republic guys, but Roger said not to shoot anyone she didn't want to kill! SHE DIDN'T WANT TO KILL ANYONE!! And why did they leave her alone--Oh crap. That meant she was the only person on the ship. She alone was protecting the ship? Why would they trust her with such a huge task?


"Okay, Belinda. Calm down. Just breath. You are now the captain of this ship. This ship needs your protection!" She muttered to herself almost feverishly, the gun shaking in her hands. She paced on the desk, back and forth, back and forth, unsure of what to do. From the distance she could see explosions littering the docks and pieces of wood and metal flying into the air. People were running around panicking and screaming just like she was. Her eyes scoured the people, trying to figure out if any of them were 'out of place' as Esther had so elegantly put it. Everyone looked about the same though, except--Bee squinted, approaching the edge of the deck cautiously. In the midst of all the citizens screaming and fleeing from the docks, there were three--no at least five people who were heading towards the docks. No. Towards the ship. Bee squeaked in terror and ducked down, clutching the gun and breathing hard. Those were definitely people who seemed out of place.


"I can't let them get on the ship." Bee said to no one in particular. But could she even shoot all of them? Could she shoot any of them? This was her first time holding a gun! Popping back up again, Bee studied the men who were approaching. She 'd waste bullets trying to shoot them from this far away...And she wasn't sure she could. Roger's words echoed in her head. Don't point that at anything you're not willing to kill. She didn't want to kill anybody. But she had to do her job. A plan bubbled into her head and she grinned widely.


First, she had to let Roger know what was happening. Fumbling with the earpiece she had been given, Bee took a deep breath before she spoke. "Roger, there are people--at least five , walking towards the ship. They don't look friendly." As confident as she tried to sound, she couldn't stop her voice from wavering.


Now, she had to keep those guys away until Esther or Roger came back. Hopefully her plan would work and this wouldn't be her first and last day on the job. Bee crawled on her hands and knees--awkwardly due to one hand holding the gun--until she was near the part of the deck closest to the docks. Peering over the edge, she saw her target and took aim. "At the count of three," She said to herself, heart thundering against her rib cage. "One, two, three!" She shot at a large stack of barrels near one of the men, hoping that an explosion of water would distract them. But instead of the bullet striking the barrels, it hit a small crate next to her intended target and the enemy closest to it let out a yell of terror before tackling his nearest compatriot out of the way as the crate exploded into a beautiful display of fireworks and subsequently set off the barrels beside it that didn't contain water, but apparently, some sort of flammable liquid. Bee's jaw dropped but her mouth turned up with glee, and she pumped her fist in the air, triumphantly.


Now she just hoped that the rest of the crew would get here, because she didn't think she could do that again.

@BlueFlameNikku @Kat @Lillian Gray @Spectre of the Fade @Bjorn @DinoFeather @Kimberlyn @mingummy

 

[junebug]

Esther listened intently to Matti through the earpiece. The only person, aside from herself, that knew how to start the ship was Roger. She grimaced and glanced around the surrounding area. A republic goon came around the corner- the uniform was unmistakable- and she pulled the trigger on her pistol. He stumbled back and cradled the side of his head in his hands; it took her a brief moment to realize the bullet had only grazed the side of his head. "We're on it," she spoke to Matti and turned back to Roger.

The bike was blazing through the streets and Esther knew she had to make a decision fast. She couldn't let innocent people be killed by the Republic, but who was more valuable? Matti's crew or the civilians? Esther cursed under her breath. "Roger, go back to the ship," she ordered and jumped off the side of the moving bike. She tumbled forward onto her left arm, straining the muscle, but she ignored the pain and kept moving. Her eyes scanned the area for any Republic men or women and made sure her gun was loaded.

Esther's legs carried her further away from the ship and from her duty as a private. She hoped she'd lost Roger. If there were any bombs around here, it would be best to disarm them. Fog clouded her judgement as she began to step out into another main road when the familiar sound of fabric brushing against another reached her ears. She gasped and dove into a nearby alleyway. The soldiers passed on through, rifles at their sides. Esther held her breath as one Republic man and woman disappeared into the fray.

Once the coast was clear, Esther scurried over to where she saw the Republic soldiers exit. Their footsteps traced back into a small marketplace, fruits and vegetables ruined, cloths and textiles no longer of use. A pang of sympathy rushed through. Those bastards. Just a couple more minutes and she'd get them. A small box, however, caught her eye. It was brown in color and nestled in the confines of a basket littered with apples and bruised bananas.

"Everyone, go!"

She ushered the crying children and women out of the area. Men quickly salvaged what little their families had left.

"Get out of here and head somewhere safe. I don't know where that is but it's not here."

The public evacuated the marketplace and Esther turned back to the bomb. It was a fragile kind; one wrong move and you could be thrown back hundreds, probably thousands of feet. "A plastic explosive," she muttered. The republic was smart. She glanced around to make sure no one was nearby and set to finding any kind of wire on the bomb. It wasn't an intricate bomb, it was actually quite simple from the looks of it. If she managed to disarm it before the others made it back to the ship, everything would be fine.

"Almost there, Esy."

She was just about to finish when a new band of unfamiliar voices began to approach. Esther panicked and took a deep breath to slow down her heart rate, so she could leave the scene without making any wrong moves. As the people moved in, Esther took her next stop in getting away. She'd taken up too much time. An explosion stirred up chaos and time seemed to fly by for Esther. One gunshot after another, she found herself focused only on surviving and making it back to the ship before the others.

Something warm and sticky began to cover her side. The screams were reminiscent of the first time she'd been submerged in chaos, helpless and powerless. Her eyes blurred and itched as dirt kicked up. She rubbed her eyes and glanced down at the left side of her abdomen with horror. A nice, clean splotch of blood was on her blouse.

Oh my god, I'm bleeding. Matti's gonna kill me.

Esther glanced around for any possible assailants to take down, particularly the one she assumed shot her. A man with spiky ginger hair and the Republic uniform came into view from the street next over and she aimed for the middle of his neck- a small space from a side view, but worth the risk. The bullet lodged a spot in his neck and he fell forward, coughing up blood. Esther took down as many soldiers as she could, but the longer she tried to survive, the faster she lost blood.

Tags: @BlueFlameNikku @Lillian Gray
Mentions: @Everyone

 

[BlueFlameNikku]

Roger received Bee's message through his ear piece, putting two fingers up onto the device to respond. "Sit tight Bee, I'll be right there." With that the man ended his message and looked to Esther with a concerned look as information was traded back and forth over communication devices. "Dammit, be careful Es!" He yelled out as he watched her leap off the moving bike and tumbled. "Fuck!" Shaking his head he turned back the throttles on the sky bike as he did a half loop, reversing his direction back towards the ship down the winding streets.

Everything had gone to shit so fast it was ridiculous. Enemy forces were everywhere, chaos and panic was sweeping through the place while the screams of those who were scared filled the air. So much for a neutral zone; it was now a war zone. "Hang on." He said aloud as he punched the bike's speed as hard as it would go.

It all came into view quickly once he'd reached the proper area of the shipyards. The crew's ship, debris, remnants of explosions. He could see them, five republic troops moving away form some fireworks that had gone off and pointing their weapons at the ship and closing in.

Roger roared in on his bike behind the group and slammed the side of the bike into two of the combatants; sending them tumbling to the ground. Hopping off of his bike and drawing his machete from its sheath in the same motion, Roger sprinted towards the nearest enemy as he raised his automatic weapon and fired at Roger with a burst. But the ex-republic soldier was too quick, he ran his blade through the panicked soldier STAB!!! as the runes lit up and sent electricity through the doomed man's body causing it to convulse violently. BZZZZZZZZ!!!

One down...

Roger's mind was focused and mute as the dead man's blood dripped down the handle of the blade. The second man roared as he fired multiple rounds towards Roger but he used the dead man's body as a shield to block them. Quickly reaching into the dead man's hip holster, Roger retrieved his sidearm and quickly popped three rounds into the second man. BANG!!! BANG!!! BANG!!! One piercing the throat and two in the chest. His body went limp and collapsed.

Two...

The third man who hadn't been knocked down by the bike was already upon Roger with a saber and in mid swing. Roger pulling his own blade out from the corpse of the one man finally, kicks the body towards the third assailant; stunning him long enough for Roger to put a single bullet between his eyes. He fell with the other one on top of him.

Three...

With swift strides Roger, splattered with the blood of three men, made his way to the fourth man. He was fumbling on the ground with his rifle still laying on his back as he pointed it at Roger. He violently kicked it out of the downed soldier's hands and stomped down onto his chest to pin him. The man plead for hardly a second as Roger didn't hesitate as in one fluid motion he swung the machete down straight into the man's face; his movements quickly ending before the machete was promptly wretched from the skull.

Four...

The final fifth man had already stood up and was pointing his weapon at Roger, however, he was young and his hands were shaking so violently that the barrel of the weapon whipped around to and from. In turn as soon as the fourth man was finished Roger already had the sidearm pointing at the scared trooper. Roger's eyes were cold and unmoving while the young man's were soft and shaking. He was as green as they came and Roger could see that. Roger was hesitating...the anger inside him screaming to pull the trigger, cut him down, kill this embodiment that's wronged him, wronged, Esy, everybody. Yet he hesitated. Then he remembered what he'd told Bee before leaving. His own words repeated in his head...

Don't point this at anything your not willing to kill...

BANG!!! The soldier fired off a round slamming into Roger's right bicep; the familiar feeling of warm vital fluid leaving his body and the burning sensation of pain.

Roger pulled the trigger...sending a round straight into the young man's heart...he fell slowly...clutching the wound with both hands...small streams of vapor rising from the end of the gun in Roger's off hand. He bit his lip as he stood there in silence, dripping in the blood of men who had little choice but to follow orders as well as his own now.

He dropped the handgun, sheathed his blade, hopped on his bike and flew it up onto the ship; quickly making his way across the deck. He could see Bee, poor girl's probably scared shitless of him now after seeing all that and how he looked now. He steered his eyes away from Bee, not wanting to make eye contact but called out to her. "Bee, get ready. I'm starting up the ship."

Clenching the wound on his right arm with one hand he quickly stumbled his way to the pilot's controls and began pulling levers and pushing buttons, starting up the ship. "Ok girl, please be good to me." Roger spoke to the ship as he took to the controls.

@Kat & @Cosmic Penguin
@Everyone

 

[kixinorbit]

[fieldbox="Wren Donaghue, #B69F6A, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"]Location: Mirefield > Back Alleys
Mentions: @Lillian Gray, @Spectre of the Fade @Bjorn

---

As the pair fled the theatre and down the dark alleyway, Wren scanned the space, searching wildly for Kingsley. Where was he?! Had someone gotten to him? Had it been her?

Panic flooded Wren's senses as he ran, outpacing Izzy with long strides, though she did not fall far behind. The majority of Wren's mind was focused on escape, with only a small part worrying over Kingsley's absence. There was another part, however, that nagged at the very back of his thoughts.

What? He strained his mind, willing himself to remember. What is it? What else?

Feet pounding in his borrowed boots, Wren continued rushing down the dark street, Izzy at his heels. Please, he thought, fingers clutching his gun as he sprinted, please remember. It's important!

And then, without warning, a shot rang out, striking the street just beside him. Wren jumped, darting to one side as a few sparks flickered momentarily in the dim street. The roof! He realized what he'd been missing just too late, scarcely managing to evade several more shots as they rained down from the roof off to their right. Out of the corner of his eye, Wren could see several figures running, crouched low, along the roof. How could he have forgotten that of all things?! Not that dwelling on it would do him any good now. No, now he needed to focus on escaping!

More shots rang out as Wren and Izzy neared junction with another street and Wren bolted to the left as a bullet struck the ground between them. A second later a hot pain seared through his right calf and he very nearly stumbled, one hand falling from his gun to help him regain his balance. He'd been clear of that shot, hadn't he? No, he corrected, mind working through the panic, the bullet must've ricocheted. More than likely, it was just a cut. It was fine. He was fine—and he could only hope Izzy was as well.

For now, he was unable to stop, and he pelted forward along the shadow of the rough stone walls, panting as he ran. He'd turned the opposite direction of the auction house, but if he could make two more rights, he should be back on course.

They were right turns, right?

Another shot clipped the ground behind him, but it was further behind now, and fewer shots followed him. I'm losing them, he thought, and he darted down another alleyway, working his way back toward the auction house as quickly as he could. He could still feel the Source, heavy in his pocket, and he could only hope it would be worth the effort.

Though it took only a few minutes, it felt as though he'd been running for hours when he finally rounded the corner to the back of the auction house, relieved to catch sight of Matthias and Kingsley. Not halting his sprint until he reached them, he all but slid to a stop near the generator, out of breath but ready to run as soon as Izzy appeared.

"There was," he said in a soft, breathless voice, "...a woman. We had to run. There were gunmen on the roof. We parted."

[/fieldbox]