✝ Ŧhe Єhronicles of the Ѵillage Đarkroot (The RP) ✝

[Clutch 45]

The truck screeched to a stop in front of the old warehouse building at the end of the prison yard. It didn't look like it should be in use still, it's old cement walls crumbling, the paint that was once there totally gone.
One of the deliverymen, the younger of the two, though both were only just old enough for such a job, got out of the passenger side and opened the back of the truck. They grumbled about their load, as they always did as they unloaded three boxes from the truck and carried them in, the older carrying two of them stacked and complaining that he always ended lifting the bigger ones.
After he got inside and put the boxes down, he looked around. The vast majority of the warehouse was just filled with huge crates, most marked with oddly short serial numbers.
"Ron? Where the heck did you get to? We gotta get goin'!"

He turned the corner just in time to see Ron pull a huge oil stained sheet off of some metal behemoth.
"RON! What the--"

"Jake, LOOK at this thing!!"

As the sheet fell free, a robot of some sort was revealed. It was more than a foot and a half taller than either of the two young deliverymen, and easily three times their width.
Where hands should have been, there instead were twin rotating chain guns with a long chain of bullets stretching from its back into each forearm.
"You... You need to put that back... We got places to be--!"

"Whassa matter? Worried it might get up? HAHA!"

"HEY! I'm not scared a nothin. But this is the military... I heard they... do things to you. If you don't do things their way..."

"DUDE, you can't believe everything they tell you! It's OUR military, not some freakin..."

"Ron, I'm SERIOUS! Get away from there! We need to GO!"

"Hold UP, Jake. Just a sec."

"Ron..."

Ron leaned in closer and examined the hulking bots heavy armor. Some of it seemed to be cracked, and in some places, missing altogether. Though, those were decidedly small. This thing could withstand hours of battle, there was no doubt. He shimmied around behind the mountain of metal and noticed a huge battle axe perched on its back. The blades stuck out on either side of the head.
"So THAT'S why it looked like it had elephant's ears!"

"Rooon...

Jake was wide eyed and completely paranoid by this point. He kept looking this way and that, waiting for someone to leap out of the shadows and yell "GOTCHA!!"
"Cool it, wouldja? Jeeze, man."

Something twinkled, and Ron's curiosity won him over yet again as he reached up to examine the source.His sleeve caught on something and something somewhere inside the thing's shell the two heard a loud metallic clack, like something quite large being snapped back into place.
"HEY! What in--!"

"RON! GET yer butt OUTTA there!!"

Jake turned and ran, stopping only at the front doors of the warehouse to look back. Ron grunted a bit as he hastily side stepped his way to freedom. Once he was free, he made his way out as well, and by the time he had reached the door, Jake had the truck running. Ron leaped into the seat.
"GO! Go now, FLOOR IT!!"

The truck revved high and took off as fast as a truck and a small trailer can.They'd be miles away before anyone could know. It may not accelerate fast, but once it got going, that truck could move.

Inside the warehouse, everything went back to how it was before they'd gotten there. The dust settled back down, finding all its favorite places to hide, the flies buzzed lazily. The only differences now were an open loading door, three new crates, and a tiny orange light blinking from the center of the huge bots eye slit.

>ASSESSING STATUS<
>STATUS: MOST SYSTEMS OPERATIONAL.<
>TIME REACTIVATED: UNKNOWN. INTERNAL CALENDAR INOPERATIONAL. CURRENT LOCATION: UNKNOWN. GPS NON RESPONSIVE. HOSTILES: SCAN INCONCLUSIVE.
NEW SCAN...
SCAN INCONCLUSIVE.
...REBOOTING...
REBOOT UNSUCCESSFUL. SCANNER NON OPERATIONAL.
THOUGH THIS UNIT STANDS. CONCLUSION: FIELD TECHNICIANS ARRIVED DURING BATTLE. ARE LIKELY NOW BE KIA. RESUMING MISSION: RAPTURE. RE-COMMENCING HOSTILE TAKEOVER.<
The huge elephantine machine lumbered forward toward the open loading door, and after some effort, stood facing the horizon just outside of town. It stepped down from the building that sat right on the edge of the city, and stepped over the city's boundary. It began walking in as straight a line as it could, which was difficult due to it's lack of use. Though, it would be working fine momentarily. As the hydrolic fluids began to pump more efficiently with more use, and the joints loosened, it would be in fine shape. It began to walk more quickly, it had picked up something organic ahead, even though it couldn't scan, there were still plenty of other ways to see.
>FOE OR ALLY: INDETERMINABLE. APPROACH WITH CAUTION.<
The E-SsG set its chain guns at its sides, locking its elbows at right angles for better efficiency in feeding the bullets. Though this could be temporary if necessary, and can be easily undone at a second's notice, it did reduce maneuverability considerably while engaged. Strong aim was traded for faster feeding. The E-SsG barreled forward, body lowered, tusks readied to impale the unidentified wanderer, attacking due to a lack of response from the unknown Mobian, a response to a demand that the bot had yet to ask. It announced itself with a mechanic roar, which crackled slightly as it charged forward.  

[Ehrinn]

Shane had been walking in the rain for an hour, but surprisingly felt no exhaustion; rather, he was contrastingly invigorated. That Emer-X stuff really works..., but he was unsure of his destination. Where can I go to escape the Army's grasp? Who can I turn to? He was famished and soaked, though the rain didn't seem to bother him as much as he thought it would; he wasn't cold or uncomfortable. It didn't look like it was going to be letting up any time in the near future. But he was beginning to find it unusually revitalizing.

Megapolis prison loomed in the distance, its presence a constant reminder to those that would oppose the Army. It now unnerved him. He noticed a cloud of dirt rapidly approaching from the prison. Unsure of what it was, he checked himself for his weapons, finding none. Great, of course I forgot my gun. The dirt cloud was getting closer, and he could make out what was advancing. It was a large bot, one of the newer models. It was the kind that they sent into a battle when the opponent has won, to try to annihilate the remaining enemy troops while they're off guard. These bots were killing machines with massive weapons the size of young mobians, and enough ammunition in their machine guns to mow down forests. The bot was closing the distance, though it wasn't designed for speed so Shane considered outrunning it. Though he wasn't sure if it would consider him an enemy if he fled and he was sure that it guns would reach him if it thought him a foe. Shane stood still waiting for the bot to approach and hoping that it would simply pass by. He took a long drag on his cigarette.

The bot was within 50 yards now and the mass amounts of mud on its frame from running through the mud and dirt barely covered its extensive damage. This bot was hardly held together. It looked in dire need of repair. The bot made a loud roar, of which was designed to strike fear in the opposing troops. Though this roar was much less impressive, not as it was intended to be. The damage must also be affecting the voice. But if it's roaring, that means it thinks I'm a threat. Shane prepared himself, taking a fighting stance. He had undergone martial arts tutelage when he was young. The Army also had other combat training. It looked like that was all he would be able to use to defend himself from the behemoth.



As the bot neared the mobian, it amplified its voice to even further in order to give a command.
>ANSWER OR BE FIRED UPON.<
Though it had made no query, and wasn't able to fire due to its bent charging position, it was intent on receiving an answer. In its mind, a lack of response was a direct refusal to comply. An act of rebellion. The bot seemed to have missed that bit of information, however, and the threat was less than empty. As it charged forward, it began to pepper the ground with over large shells, leaving a trail of pockmarks and lead in the wake of his cloud. The mistake was noticed after the fact, however, and it quickly unlocked it's arms. The shower of bullets was badly aimed, though, as its head was still poised downward.



Shane was rather confused, it wanted him to answer a question it hadn't asked and then just chose to start firing without a response. He got in close to the bot, knowing that at range he'd be filled with poorly aimed bullets. Obviously noting that the damage was affecting it's targeting. Shane ran behind it looking for some kind of way to turn it off. Commanding it to stop wouldn't work with a bot this badly damaged. The system wouldn't register it, but he didn't know of any other way to turn it off. "Stop firing! I'm with the Army!" Though he had chosen to leave the Army only just an hour before, the bot wouldn't know that.



The bot straightened and screeched to a stop, leaving a massive cloud to hang around them both. Though, the falling rain made it thick, and it settled faster than it would have otherwise. The bot had heard Shane yelling, but was unable to decipher what he had said. This time, the fault was its own, the sound of gunfire had simply drowned it out. Guns still rotating, ready to loose once more, the bot took more careful aim.
>SUBJECT WILL RESTATE. ANSWER MUST COME WITHIN THE SPACE OF 15 SECONDS. THESE 15 SECONDS WILLL STA--<
>4<
>2<
>ON--<
Bullets started spraying before the bot could finish saying the number.



Shane jumped to the side, rolling through the mud. He quickly regained himself and jumped behind the bot once more, landing a punch on the back of the bot's partially exposed shoulder. Thankfully he'd noticed that the metal plating in that section was missing, so his fist didn't collide against the outer steel, but rather the inner metallic workings of its upper arm. Though it still felt like he had just punched a metal wall. The bot didn't seem to even notice the strike initially. Though Shane could see that he'd altered the metal somehow. It was changed to a whitish tinge. It looks almost... frozen.... yes, it is frozen. Shane looked at his fist. It looked normal, nothing was different other than the pain from the impact of knuckles to steel. He remembered his canteen of water from before that had frozen and melted from something. Am I causing these changes?



The bot hadn't planned ahead for Shane to make his way behind it. Its aim had followed from the elbow, but it hadn't bothered to turn at the waist. Though it wasn't aware of having been hit, there were small internal alarms going off.
>SYSTEMS IN RIGHT SHOULDER ENTERING DANGEROUS TEMPERATURES. REGULATING.<
It had turned its hulking body to face Shane once more, swiveling at the waist. It was capable of walking backward in short amounts, though it wasn't deemed necessary by the bot. It raised its guns once more, and fired. Though both spun at great speed, only one stream of bullets cut a line toward Shane. The right arm's thinly chained string of bullets had jammed, probably due to the necessary extra effort that was being used to regulate that arm's temperature. The bot, continuing to fire with its left, dislodged the chain from its right, retracting it onto the slot on its back.



Energy was pulsating through his muscles, tensed and prepared for anything. If I live through this, I'm gonna have to buy more of those drinks. The bursting strength flowing through him gave him the utmost confidence. He rushed the bot, moving easily around the line of fire, and struck a blow to the bot's underarm that held the working gun. As before, the pain rushed into his hand, but was surprisingly less than before thanks to the liquid coursing through him, pushing him, driving his body beyond its limits. Another quick strike to the front of the bot's head and Shane jumped back. He stood ready.



The bot reeled, unable to discern what should be done about this situation. It took a few steps back and retracted its other chain of bullets. It swiveled back around the right way, stepping around to face Shane properly. It had managed to realize that the temperature imbalance was being inexplicably caused by contact with Shane's fists. Deciding on its plan of attack, it extended its inner arm and slapped it against its hip. Having successfully attached the sword, it then followed the same routine on its other arm, but instead reaching for its back. It placed both arms between itself and Shane, revealing its "ears" to be a battle axe and set both weapons to rotating. The left arm now spun more slowly than the right, now being the colder. It tried to turn its head and found it to be frozen in place.
>REROUTING ALL RESERVES TO HEAT REGULATION. COMPENSATING FOR FUTURE ATTEMPTS.<
Its metallic hide began to glow slightly with heat, and as it regained mobility of its head it stepped forward cautiously. As it neared, it lunged its axe, the longer of its two weapons forward as it spun with dizzying speed.



The bot was steaming. The rain hitting its heated body was evaporating quickly. The cold must be effecting its systems. But how am I causing this? What happened in the river must have affected me. When I hit the bot, the section around my strike freezes. But it's only freezing the water from the rain onto it which is slowing him down. It's not freezing the bot itself. The rotating blades quickly caught Shane's attention. He's moving to close quarters to fight back. Shane fell backwards, slipping in the mud as the bot lunged at him with the rotating axe. As he fell, the axe cut free his canteen and it fell to the ground. In that moment Shane had an idea.

He grabbed the canteen as he back away from the spinning blade and opened the top. The water inside sloshed around with his hasty movement. Shane threw the canteen at the rotating axe and ran at the bot. The canteen was reduced to mere shreds as it came in contact with the axe. Its contents releasing itself upon the rotating weapon. Shane planned to attack the bot as the water sprayed onto it in hopes of freezing it further, but stopped his charge when he noticed that the axe had slowed its tremendous speed. It was hardly spinning, frozen solid. I didn't even hit it. The water froze without me touching it.



As soon as the water hit the axe, it froze solid, bringing its spinning to an abrupt halt. The bot swung the blade regardless; it was still a finely sharpened weapon of war. The axe took a horizontal path, aiming to cut Shane right in half just below the chest. The bot swung the sword arm behind it to add force to the blow.



Shane's muscles tensed, his nerves on fire. With reflexes he didn't know he had, he knelt below the blades and scooped up a handful of muddy water. He flung it at the bot, watching it freeze in the air before hitting the bot in the chest and shattering. It caused to damage to the bot, but Shane had begun to understand what he could now do. He stared at a puddle of muddy water. It sat there, brown and murky, moving only with the raindrops hitting its surface. He thought about freezing the water, but nothing happened. He could feel the energy coursing through him as he stared at the puddle. He clenched his fist to release some of the tension of the energy. The murky puddle froze over.



The E-SsG took a thunderous step forward, sending mud both liquid and frozen into Shane's face. It had stopped to see what he was doing, and was satisfied with what it had seen. An instant after its foot punched a hole in the ground, the still spinning sword swung at Shane, threatening to grind him from the side of the blade.



Shane had been distracted by what he had just done. It had allowed the bot to to move in and attack once more. Shane reflexively brought his arm up to defend against the strike, though it wouldn’t have helped at all against a rotating sword being swung by a massive machine. As he brought his arm up the mud rose from the ground in the same direction, pushing the bot to the side as the blade slammed into the ground and began kicking up dirt from the rotating blade. He noticed what had happened and attempted to recreate it. He arose from the ground quickly and was in a ready stance. He lifted his arm and extended it towards the bot. A stream of mud shot from the ground towards the bot, hitting it in the back. Shane was a quick learner. He clenched his fist and the entire backside of the bot was pelted with a stream of frozen mud.



The torrents of rock solid frozen mud sent the bot toppling over onto its front. On its way down, it swiveled on its waist with both arms outstretched, attempting to sweep horizontally through Shane. Both attacks missed, however, as the bot was falling too rapidly. It hit the ground with a huge splash and a dull thud, muffled by the bog of mud. It made quick work of trying to get back up, but struggled more than it should have. Its legs were backwards from the last attack. It placed its arms behind it and forced himself upward using the leverage to lift his considerable weight. It was totally vulnerable, so as a last ditch defense, it slid open the small 'pockets' on the outside of each leg, revealing a relatively large gun barrel in each. The barrels swiveled to face Shane. After just a second, there two simultaneous metallic THUNK, and a small serrated cast iron ball roughly the size of a baseball was launched from each, headed toward the fox.



Shane was amazed that his pillar of frozen mud had worked so well. He could feel energy flowing to his very fingertips. He heightened himself up into a ready position. As he brought his hands up, the ground in front of him moved. No, not the ground, the puddles of mud. They were being hoisted upward, towards his palms. A bit of understanding came over him. The river, the mysterious objects, it was all starting to paint a vivid picture in his mind. He took another long drag on his cigarette with a slight smirk of confidence. The smirk quickly dissolved as the overturned behemoth launched two objects from its legs. As the shock subsided to fear it touched on a calm. Shane had a means to defend himself and was becoming aware of his new found resolve. This energy, a cascade of power flowing with the slightest movement, had brought him determination; and with it, a will to live on and fight for his intentions.

Shane raised the mud with relative ease to meet the projectiles and froze them as they passed through. He stood aside as they blew by, still with incredible speed. The landed yards away without an audible noise at their distance. He turned to face the bot and waited calmly. Doubt no longer clenched his mind. The rain continued to pour upon their surroundings. The flame of the cigarette gave off an eerie glow.



The huge bot heaved itself forward, swinging his axe arm high over its head and readied to thrust once more with its rotating sword. It covered the small distance with a single bound, sending waves of mud into the air and sending both weapons forward through the veil of wetted ground.



Shane raised his arms once more to bring up the pools of mud. The wall of liquid stretched upward with his movements. With clenched fists and a thought, the wall was immediately frozen solid; resulting in a seven foot tall, murky barricade. He wasn't sure if it was going to be thick enough to withstand the bot's force, so he hastily threw up more and more mud with the new found technique; leading to a few extra feet of protection.



The axe buried itself firmly in the dense ice, immovable. As the gears in the bots arm ground furiously, trying to pull the weapon free, the sword drilled its way through the center of the barricade, cutting out a ragged circle. Nearly halfway through however, the blade became too dull to continue, and seized up. Almost instantly, smoke began to swirl from the sword arm, belts and mechanisms overheating. The bot halted the rotation, and leaned forward to gain leverage. It heaved its whole body back and wrenched both its weapons free, the axe creaking slightly, and the blade opposite with large gouges and nearly no edge left. It released its cracked electronic roar once more, and lurched its whole body into the wall of mud that had stopped its powerful arms, utterly shattering it.



As it crashed through the wall of mud, Shane outstretched his arms. The mud on either side rippled and swelled, rising to his call. He thrust his arms forward, bringing them together into clenched fists. Two pillars of frozen mud crashed into both sides of the bot, the twin glacial obelisks blasting into mechanical leviathan with tremendous force.



The pillars hit the bot squarely at each side just under its arms. In the same instant, two sounds could be heard; a sick crumpling sound much like a plastic bag being balled up, and a deep, echoing thud. The right side, still solid as it was, deflected the blow with ease, while the left side of the bot's body had caved in like foil from the impact, which had hit a large crack. Even as it doubled over awkwardly to the side, unable to support its upper body, it took a powerful swipe with its drill like right handed sword, aiming for the head.



Shane was thankful that this metallic colossus was intensely run down. Any regular bot of this make would destroy an half an army single-handedly. The spinning blade on the bot's arm drove towards his head. Shane brought down his left arm and took hold of the mud below and raised his palm to his right forearm, meeting it with a doubled fist. The mud ascended to his right arm, encompassing it and hardening. He braced for the impact as the gyrating blade struck across his hardened arm, glancing off and away from him.



The miss wrenched the bot's upper body around. The force that had been put into the blow worked powerfully against the arm that had applied it, thus adding to the destruction that was its torso. It lumbered passed the fox as its swing came to a full stop. It had to make a slow turn to face him, with the loud screeching of metal on metal as it did so. The bot stretched its arm outward and held the drill sword pointed at Shane; it was running out of options. It began launching grenades from its legs aimed towards Shane. It was systematic, alternating a barrage as it slowly made its way towards him, using the stiffening of the leg as it hit the ground as its cue to launch another grenade.

It was a horrific sight. It resembled a disheveled corpse as it lumbered toward Shane; its upper body, only half connected and folded nearly 90 degrees, caused its head to swivel to an impossible angle in order to see where it was going. A myriad of wires and tubes in place of intestines and innards hung free of its ruined side, spewing various dark colored fluids into the rain flooded ground. Its left arm hung severed and useless causing the axe to drag in the mud during its slow but sure advance.



Shane recoiled from the strength of the bot, but stood well grounded. He was surprised at how well the arm shield worked. He turned, keeping his stance facing the bot as it glanced off and lumbered by. He was astounded by the sight of the giant and its illogical display of miscalculation. Shane made short work of the disheveled grenades, hardly having to move to evade most and finding ease in freezing those that came remotely close. As each grenade passed and the bot closed the gap, Shane mirrored its advances. He fluctuated with each stride, weaving between each projectile, swaying as the very water he manipulated.

Mere inches separated the two. Shane knelt low, one leg outstretched toward the bot, both fists moved to his left at the ground. He arched upward with his fists at the bot's chest, striking with all his newfound capacity at its core. As his fists collided with the bot's chest, sharpened columns of frigid muck struck into its center, encompassing Shane's hands with massive pillars risen, and still connected to, the ground below. The tremendous spikes impaled the mammoth, protruding from its back at two crossed points.



Thick white steam hissed from the bots open chest and back with dangerous force as the spears severed temperature regulators and hydraulic hoses.
>*tzzt*OPTIC SENSO*tzzz*FAILI*zzkkt*RE*kkz*ING**SPEAKER*zztz*N*tkkz*A*tzzzzz~~*<
Wisps of heavy black smoke joined the jet of super-heated steam, swirling lazily upward into the inky clouds.
>****zzk**ACTI*AT**G DISTRE** BEACON*tzzkkk**BAC* UP INCOM*NG**tzzzkkk~~*<
The new standard procedure for a bot like this , one as powerful so powerful, was to send its GPS coordinates and a distress signal upon being defeated. This was initiated in light of what had happened involving the Titan incident, the info having been sent out within minutes of the Emperor's initial hearing of Titan's failure. Though unlikely, it had been proven to be possible. Thus, if there was any group who could somehow defeat it, they needed to be dealt with quickly and carefully. Having accomplished this, the bot attempted to reroute any remaining power to its arms, more out of sheer stubbornness than anything. This feat was, however, all in vain, as much of the wiring connecting its power source to its inboard computer had been totally severed, thus forcing it to run its last task on its minuscule reserves. There was no final struggle, no sudden lurch before death. It simply ceased to move, to compute, to attack. It remained standing, however, despite its decimated body and obvious "death".

But it really was done. It wouldn't move again. Jet black blood poured from its many plastic tubes, tainting everything it touched with a sick looking rainbow as it mixed with the myriad of other fluids and chemicals. The cocktail made the mud reek. A few miles away, further into the city, a small light blinked on an unsupervised super computer. After a few seconds, the light went out as the call was acknowledged by the automated system. Moments later, Two choppers began to load up their identical cargo: one massive passenger and five small low ranking bots each.The loading process took less than fifteen minutes. The steady thunder of blades cutting through the air quickly picked up speed, and the choppers took off. They flew high, to escape the suspicion of those in the city, and made their way to the signal they had downloaded. The outskirts of the city, near the Megapolis Prison. ETA was 10 minutes.

 

[crazyC0llec70r]

Ronin and Brom ran into no further resistance on their way out, it seemed too easy. Any soldiers they did run across were unarmed, and quickly turned tail and ran. Ronin said nothing as they ran for the exit to the prison. He could feel the flow of Chaos energy outside. Someone was fighting.

After what seemed an eternity of corridors, they finally reached the exit. The fight he had been sensing earlier had ceased, and he had lost track of the Chaos wielder during the run.

"We're almost there! Just beyond those doors and we're out!" Brom pointed the barrel of his weapon at the doors fifty feet in front of them. In no time at all, they barreled through the doors and into the pouring rain of the outside world.

Ronin could now feel the presence of the Chaos wielder, and he could hear the roar of helicopter blades in the distance. He figured he would have the best chance of figuring out what was going on if he found that person. A short ways away, he saw smoke billowing from something large. He headed in that direction. It must have been where the fight had taken place.  

[Nan Shala]

Midway was under the watchful eye of “the police”, and whether that was good or a bad thing wasn’t completely clear to Nan Shala. The military had put the area under some sort of surveillance and this, more than anything else, was causing the young girl considerable disquiet. Nan Shala was on her way to a place known as Darkroot, where she had heard whispers of a large conflict in which the military had been directly involved. On her way there however, she had continued to assist those who were in desperate need, thus slowing her journey considerably. For three days now she had stayed in a cheap motel room, all she could afford on her budget, and began to wonder if it might have been preferable to sleep outside. The young Nan Shala had traveled far during her young life, and yet, finding a comfortable place to rest her eyes had never been a problem. Fresh air and the occasional cool breeze was all she needed to fall into a pleasant slumber these days. Besides, she preferred being in close proximity to living creatures. The hard stone and long dead wood on the surrounding buildings was slightly disconcerting.

The citizens of midway all gave off the colors and senses of sorrow and resignation, emotions that seemed to be growing more commonplace with each passing day. Some emitted depression so deep, that it hurt the young girl just to gaze upon them. Tears would come to her eyes, and she would have to hide her face beneath the shadow of her hood. Today, she had done away with the ceremonial dressings of the Shala, and instead wore much more mundane apparel. A white shirt, sleeveless which left her lean stomach uncovered. Over that, she wore a snow white jacket, with a hood. Below, she wore white trousers bound to her ankles with white cloth and old broken in shoes that were made for extended walking. As the Nan Shala, it was expected that she wear white always as a symbol of her station and against the jet black of her body, she stood out like a beacon in the streets. Her hair was tied into many complex braids, some of which were tied back atop the rest in semblance of a crown atop her head. Most striking of all were her eyes, blue as ice, blue as the sky on a perfect day. They were piercing, narrow, exotic and most of all; they seem to show a depth of understanding beyond that normally found in someone of her age.

Confined to her rooms, she waited. There was an air of unease about the whole place. Anticipation was in the air, an expectation of calamity hidden under a miasma of other emotions. The sensation was like grime upon her skin, or like walking in a cloud of noxious fume. It made her shiver. Standing up from her bed, she pulled on her hood and strolled out the door. She felt like she should hurry, but she didn’t know why. The streets looked normal enough in Midway. People walked about doing their daily business, though to Nan Shala, the color and feeling of their emotions granted the depth even to the mundane aspects of life. At the moment however, it was weighing on her mind, so, with a force of will, she suppressed her senses, dimming them down to a faint perception of mood. As she walked, several children played in the street with a tattered ball. Local stores sold foodstuffs of all different kinds, though none of the facilities looked particularly well off. A few feet away from her, one of the small boys on the road fell to the ground and scrapped their knee. A small line of blood streamed down from the cut and the young child began to cry. With several graceful strides, Nan Shala moved over to the distraught boy and smiled.

“Hello there young one.” She said in a soothing, almost motherly voice. “Don’t you cry child, let me see your injury.” The child sniffled, and moved his hands from his knee. It was just a small scrape; there wouldn’t even be any scarring. The Nan Shala laughed and smiled a warm smile, which was all that was visible under the hood of her jacket. “Hold still, I’ll fix that up for you in a few seconds.” Closing her eyes, she called upon a memory. It was a simple, happy recollection of a time where she had sat in the grass near her people’s encampment. She had finished all her day’s training and simply had a moment to be a young girl, not the Nan Shala, High Priestess and Ambassador to the people of the world. The woman let the emotion fill her, and for a moment, her eyes shimmered with an inner power. Carefully, she put her left hand over the small boy’s knee, and it began to glow faintly golden, even in the sunlight. The boy’s surprise was palpable as he saw the blood flow stop and moments later, a scar began to form. After about a minute and a half, the boy’s injury was gone. The skin where it had been would be a bit tender, but otherwise, he was healed. Nan Shala stood from where she knelt before the boy and smiled once again before moving about her business in the city. The boy gaped at her as she left.

Something stirred in the air, and she would be there to meet what ever was causing it. It was her duty to avert conflict, and something about midway felt tense, like a man standing upon the edge of a high cliff. Had her ancestors guided her here? Why was she in this tiny city, and what catastrophe was she tangled up in?  

[Puff O Puff]

He was free of those two now, he had a plan and he was going to follow it. Rook looked all around, the roads were deserted but that didn't mean they were safe. To his left was a van, his smile grew even wider. In a moment he was off the ground and into the air. Clearing the ten foot gap between him and the van in seconds, his leg muscles coiled and with another leap he was a top the van. From there he leapt from the van onto the nearest telephone poll, claws extended he hit the poll, claws sinking into the wood. Once he hit he didn't even pause, he started climbing in a heartbeat. Once he reached the top he kicked off the pole twisted in air and landed on the lowest roof top in a roll. Without stop he kept running, he reached the edge of the building and jumped the gap with ease. All of this happened in only a minute.

Rook ran a top the buildings, his powerful legs leaping to each one. It was moments like this he could feel his blackened heart beat, a moment of peace... a moment to be free. He hardly noticed getting to his destination. He slowed to a stop and looked off the rooftop, below him was the old freezer. Something was off though, some one had gone in... they were still home too. Without a second thought he took a step forward and fell. One arm reaching up claws raking the side of the building. His hand caught on the door and he let go, he brought his other hand and wedged his claws into the cracks in the large metal door. Bringing the other to do the same job. His claws ached, but his job wasn't done as he began to pry the large door open. The door although heavy gave way with relative ease, with little warning he dropped into the freezer when the door was wide enough. He landed silently on his feet.

Looking up Rook saw something he had seen in years... That @#!*% bunny was back. He was flopped on the floor, well missing the mattress. He didn't hear a thing, or made a move; asleep. Oblivious, his chest steadily rose and fell.

Rook made only one move toward the rabbit when there was a crash. Metal clinked and clambered off of something to the floor. Coming from the back room. Rook straightened his back, reaching into one of the many pockets of his uniform, his other hand went to his holster. Pulling a small suppressor from the pocket he slowly as to not make much sound screwed it on to the pistol. Slowly he made his way to the back room, HIS room the room that had all of his equipment in.

Reaching the door he pushed the door open and aimed down the sights. He expected several things, but this was not one of them, a surprise though. What he saw was another familiar face, squatting next to his chair, his journal to the side of her. His smile, if possible, grew even wider as he said,

"So Seven, looks like we meet again."

One of the gun racks was spilled onto the floor, in a chaotic domino effect, with the first in the row hastily pulled into her arms. She leaned around the chair, squinting at him a while. Her eyes flashed recognition only after the word 'seven'. Then the girl lowered the barrel from him, but tightened her hands on it, keeping her lips tight in a frown.
She stuck her hand out to slap it over the notebook, with several folded newspaper pages stuck in it. Then snapped it back across her chest. Squint.

"Aren't you one for entrances..."

Rook stared at his journal for a moment, he slowly dragged his gaze to her eyes. His own yellow eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, slowly he lowered his pistol. Rooks face turned from his usual face splitting grin into a small scowl as he said,

"Well every man needs an entrance to HIS own house now don't he?"

With that said he twirled around and moved towards the wall behind him, nonchalantly he walked towards it. When he reached it he put both his hands out, they started to glide across the cracked wall. He didn't look back as he said,

"Ta be honest Sev I didn't think I would see you so soon, I was expectin' something a bit less... interesting of a meeting, ya know?"

His voice betrayed his figure, his smooth and laid back tone betrayed his orderly clothing and stance. Under his breath he whispered,

"Come on where are you... I've missed ya ruby, I just wanna see a part of ya again."

Suddenly his hand caught on a larger crack in the wall and his old smile cracked threw his face again. His hand dug in and he gave a sharp yank, a small section of the wall came off, beneath it was a small hole. In that hole there was a red shine.
Once again he whispered,

"There you are baby."


"Your home?" She stood to sit on the arm of the chair to subtlety peak at what he was looking for. "I've heard differently. I see differently from that uniform."


"Girl, if I were military you would know. I would have shot you in the head and brought you back then get promoted." He had yet to even turn around, his hand was grabbing at the red glint. "And if I were military why would I help you?"


A look like a stab came across her face, but was quickly hidden. Her thumb flipped the top pages of the closed notebook. With a frown but not a word, she stomped off the arm rest. The girl nudged his notebook back at him at arm's length, head to the floor.

His smile melted from his face in less then an instant, With a sharp pull the thing came loose, in his hand was a part of his life, it was his compound bow, "Ruby". It was folded down into a rectangular shape. Pulling at his collar he slipped the piece into his shirt, uncomfortable but necessary.

Turning around he looked at her and said, "Girl, I gave that to you for a @#!*% reason. If I'm found with that I will be killed. It and I am far safer separate for now."

His face was void of motion as he said this, his eyes locked onto her head. Slowly tearing his eyes from her he eyed the next room and croaked out, "I guess we should wake up the midget, no?"

His lips curving into a barely noticeable smile.  

[crazyC0llec70r]

She crossed her arms over her chest, and gave him an inquisitive look. His charm failed to work on her, but it usually paid to pretend it did. "Someone who knows what they're doing? I think I fit the bill. I once got a fifty year old truck running like a suped up race car. If I can't fix it, no one on this side of town can."

Clutch smirked, leaned both his arms on the counter, and nodded quickly to her with a cocky, yet appreciative smile.
"Sounds like you're just who I'm looking for, then! My bike's out front, in my trailer. Wanna come take a look at 'er? She's a beauty, there's no doubt!"

Rosa nodded as she walked out from behind the counter, if this guy didn't have the money to back up his personality, she was going to regret this.

"Much like yourself."
He smiled at her again after looking her up and down, this time the smile seemed a bit more genuine.

Rosa looked away for a moment to roll her eyes, hoping he'd think she was blushing. The triumph in his eyes as she turned back around told her that it had worked. And then some.

Charlie turned to lead the way, held the door open and swept his hand in front of himself. Rosa walked out the door after a brief hesitation.The hedgehog followed her out and let the door slam itself. Rosa sighed as she saw the trailer sitting in front of her shop. "I'm gonna get written up for this thing being here..." The hedgehog then went around her and opened up the back.
"Here she is! My beauty..."
He stepped back and stared up proudly at the bike, chest out, hands on hips and smiling broadly. He then folded arms over chest and waited for a response.

She walked over to the door of the trailer, and could feel her eyes twitch as she saw the trailer empty save for one motorcycle. She climbed up into the trailer to get a better look at it. "What seems to be the problem?"

Charlie's shoulders slumped slightly.
"You can't see it? There's a HUGE scratch in the paint! It'll take a very talented detailer to fix that, that's a custom paint job! You... really can't see that? Look..."
He hopped up to the inside of the trailer, shaking it violently, and came up to the side of the bike.
"Right... here! See?"
He pointed at a spot in the paint where, if she looked real hard, she could see a faint scratch that rested on a solid-colored spot in the paint.
"Also, anything else you can find to make 'er purr is good by me! But I doubt you'll be able to find anything... I take quite good care of her."
He smirked and pushed his chest out, beaming at his own words.
"So, a paint job and a diagnostic... how much'll that be?"
He beamed a smile that bled ego and delusion.

She paused for just a moment to consider her options. "Well, it IS a custom paint job, and I can tell from here it's a custom model, so a paint job and a diagnostic would run you about... Five hundred DL." The price was absurd, and she knew it. But if there was one thing she knew, it was how to spot a sucker when he's vulnerable.

Charlie's demeanor wavered for an instant, but he covered it up nearly instantly.
"Five... hundred, huh?"
He put his hand on his chin for a few moments, then locked his eyes with her once again, cocky smile back on his face.
"No problemo, Sweets! I can tell you know what you're doin, and I've gotten rave reviews on you from a very reliable source. You gotchya self a deal!"
He turned to unfasten the bike without a second thought.

"Alright, then. Help me get it in the garage, and I'll get to work." She paused after jumping out of the truck. "Oh, yeah, one more thing." She turned to face him and placed her hands on her hips. "If I get fined for having a semi in front of my shop, I'm adding it to your bill."

Charlie was startled that something so small an issue would make such a big deal, but it only flashed over his features for an instant. He regained his composure without missing a beat and waved his hand toward Rosa.
"NAH, that won't be a problem! I'll just talk to the officer myself! I doubt there'll be any doubt at that point that there's really no other option! Besides, I was already gonna ask you if you knew about anywhere that I could rent a garage for a while! And maybe a good hotel?"
He leaned on the back of the truck and crossed one foot over the other.
"I was thinkin I'd hang around for a bit", he said as he took a quick glance around at the small business corner, before reverting his eyes back to travel along her curves once more, though only very briefly. When his eyes met hers, he smiled again- it was so automatic at this point.

She put her hand on her chin for a moment to think about the question. "A garage, huh? I think I might know a guy... It's a bit out of the way, but it's a well priced truck stop just out of town, I'll give you the address inside." She sauntered towards the garage door, and waved him in. "Well, you bringin' that bike or what?"

"Right behind ya!" Charlie took a moment to watch her obvious show before taking hold of the handlebars of the bike and leading it into the shop.  

[TrivialCipher]

Onward S.A.M. crawled. The only thing that mattered was returning to Megaopolis. The journey was far from easy. The scrapes and cuts that ran down the front of his frame were so deep it was a wonder he was able to continue. Bits of twigs and dirt surrounded the newfound wounds like an infection. A good amount of dust was beginning to pile up inside of the holes as well. S.A.M.'s optic sensors were nearly useless as well, nearly completely clogged with dirt. His single tire got jammed by a pebble of some sort not long ago, causing it to stop rotating. Which only made the journey harder.

He was a pathetic heap of junk that believed it had a reason to exist. Not even able to comprehend that he was at the mercy of nature itself. All he had left was a functioning arm, and a small dot on a map in his head that told him he belonged there. Every now and then it would fizzle out, causing him to lay motionless, though through some miracle he'd reboot, and continue.

If it weren't for the clouds overhead, his circuits would've been fried within hours. A few probably were anyway. S.A.M. wasn't capable of feeling the searing heat that covered The Wastes. He couldn't feel his missing limbs either. The trauma a living creature in his shoes would feel is the stuff nightmares are made of. A fate worse than death.

Sparks flew from S.A.M.'s joint as he continued to claw himself toward the blinking dot. He didn't even know that he'd lost two of his fingers a while back when they collided with a large stone jutting out of the ground. The remaining fingers were nearly detached as well. Pretty soon, there'd be no way his feeble hull could take any more. He would collapse in the dirt and nothing wouldever notice. Maybe a piece of him would hold on? Maybe he'd forever see that blinking dot as his body refused to move?

Suddenly, S.A.M. felt an outside force tampering with him. Not a physical force. There was something speaking to him, and he somehow understood.

Oncoming Scout-Bot! Your approach has been acknowledged! Please halt forward movement and await retreival team! E.T.A. will be T-minus 4 minutes and counting...

S.A.M. did what the transmission ordered. From this, he felt no sense of victory, no pride, no pain. He'd made it to the dot... That was all.  

[Clutch 45]

>THIS IS NOT THE PROPER WAY TO--<
>THIS IS INCORRECT. IT MUST BE REASSEMBLED IN THIS ORDER--<
>THE INPUT GIVEN, THOUGH APPRECIATED, WILL BE IGNORED--<
>THAT IS UNADVISABLE. THIS UNIT WAS PRESENT DURING THE INITIAL ASSEMBLY OF THE--<
>IT IS THE UNDERSTANDING OF THIS UNIT THAT YOU WERE IN SLEEP MODE DURING SAID ASSENBLY--<
>THAT IS AN UNFORTUNATE MISINFORMATION THAT WILL LEAD YOU TO BELIEVE THAT THIS UNIT DOES NOT UNDERSTAND--<

“W!LL YOO STOPP IT, YOUU BUB0NIC SCR4P FLAPPJACKSZ!?!”
General Rage groaned and rolled over, not quite ready to get up yet. He had-- wait… did you just… Did you call them bubonic scrap flapjacks?? WHAT in th--

Mrrrble grum…

Huh? Speak up, boy! I don’t wanna have ta listen ta yer mumblin!!

Well, I don’t think ANYONE wants to listen you your eubonics…

What’s a yoobon?

Sleeeep…

Obviously, you aren’t that tired…

Nope! I’m this tired!

OH for…

No comment. Anyway, Rage had--

Brigadier General Rage!!

RAGE had told one of the lower ranking soldiers earlier that same morning that he had very important things to do in private, and that he wasn’t to be disturbed.

“He was supposed to keep watch on the door, too…!”

He shimmied himself out of his little bed with some difficulty, crawled to tent flap and poked his head out at about knee height. After looking around a bit, he saw the “guard” standing to the right watching the two bots that were now arguing with each other via instant message sent directly into each others’ heads.

“HEY!!!”

The short soldier let out a small squeak and nearly dropped his rifle, which he had standing upright at his side. It would have fallen right where Rage’s seemingly disembodied head was now, had he not caught it.

“WHERE’S THE WATCH?!”

“S-- Sir…?”

“Why didn’t you keep one on the door?? I TOLD YOU TO KEEP A WATCH ON THE DOOR!! I better see a nice shiny watch hanging from the flap up there in FIVE MINUTES!! I wanna be able to USE it to count down till I decide how to PUNISH YOU for ignoring it!!!

“AAH! YES SIR!!”

“Good.”

He pulled his head back in and stood up tall, stretching his arms to the top of the tent.

DANGIT… Still can’t reach!

I know, and he stretches those arms a little every day, too! You’d think they’d be a little longer by now…

He relaxed his body and looked around his pristinely kept tent. His desk was completely free of paperwork, since he had just thrown it all in the wastebasket moments before going to bed the night before. His cots, though he did just wake up, looked as though they hadn’t been touched since they were first set up. He requested a second one upon leaving the city, and though he was told that it wasn’t likely to be granted, he had gotten one shortly after the soldier who mentioned that to him slipped and accidentally landed on a quite large piece of glass that Rage had incidentally just broken off of the window to their left. His unfortunate and relatively slow death was discovered shortly after Rage left with his new second cot.
Once in his possession, he had the second cot set side by side with his old one, which was up against the side off the tent. His boots were laid with the toes pointing into the air on the open side. His blankets were still perfectly folded atop the cots, and his socks were carefully laid across his boots, much like miniature blankets.

Well, we wouldn’t want them to be COLD, now would we?!

You just had to pipe up, didn’t you? The description was getting along so well, too…

What? I just didn’t want the boots to be cold!

They’re… Oh, never mind. The pillow where his head had rested only moments before still lay beneath the cots, directly under his boots. He reached down and grabbed his makeshift blanket from deep under the cots and pulled its forest green sleeves over his arms. With a massive yawn--

Oh no! Don’t yawn… If you do, I’ll yawn…!

“AH CAH HAL I…”

Wait… What? I couldn’t understand a SINGLE thing you just said!

“I said ‘I can’t help it’! Stupid…”

“Sir?”

Rage nearly jumped out of his skin.

What an enticing thought…

On someone else, though…

Well, YEAH.

“WHAT!?”

The tent flap started to move, and Rage began to panic.

“WAIT!! HALT! DON’T YOU DARE OPEN THAT FLAPJACK!!”

Stunned momentarily, the soldier stopped.

“S… Sir?”

Rage flung himself to his cots and rammed his feet into his socks as he hit the hard floor next to his bedding. He wriggled his way back up to a sitting position and hastily untied his boots, shoving them over his feet and fumbling to zip them up. Getting them halfway, he declared them good enough, and himself now presentable, if only just. He stood up and put on a face that said “I’ve been up all along and didn’t just get dressed”. Loudly. And poorly. With his head held too high, his shoulders so far back his arms were sticking out behind him and a huge, horror inducing, twitching toothy grin, he called the soldier in.

“Okaaay! You can come IIINN nooowww…!”

The soldier, somewhat hesitant by Rage’s… odd antics… well, odd-ER, pulled the--

Otters? There aren’t any otters around here…

URG!! He pulled the tent flap open! He stepped through the open doorway and looked up. He gave a small yelp and fell backward out of the tent at the sight of Rage standing there, looking like some deranged statue, or maybe a rabid wild animal frozen in time just after catching that cat.

Hey! Now that’s NOT very--

Cat?? HE GOT IT?! WHEN!!?

How did I miss that?

I dunno. Cuz yer dumb.

Coming from the eubonics major.

Wait… isn’t that a star, or something?

Nope! It’s yer brain… ON BLACKSMOKE WEEDS!

Huh?

I dunno.

AAHH!! STOP IT!! SHUT UP AND LET THE STORY CONTINUE!!!

I’m tellin ya, decaff.

The young soldier swallowed hard and held the flap open, pointing to the watch hanging there.
“Is… is that good sir??”

Rage turned his torso stiffly, refusing to let his demeanor fall, and faced the little brown wristwatch that had been tied to the zipper of the tent. His response came through clenched teeth.

“Yeah. It’s good. Nice work. See ya!”

The youth was even more taken aback, if possible, by this downright bizarre display. And on top of the face and the pose, he was more than accepting of what the soldier was sure to be considered inadequate. At first, he didn’t move at all. Then, realization dawning, he quickly backed out of the tent.

“CLOSE it, WILL YOU?! I NEED IT-- HEY! Whata ya mean by THAT!?”

“I… Sir? I don‘t--”

“NOT you! JUST GO!”

With a puzzled look, the boy mumbled a quick “yessir!” and zipped the door closed once more. Alone at last in his tent yet again, Rage decided it was time to get up and goin after all. He sat on the edge of one his cots- careful to avoid the folded blanket- and took off his shoes. He also stripped his socks off and neatly flattened them out before slowly sliding each foot back into its sock. He held the boot’s zipper as wide open as he could and guided his foot slowly into it, careful not to let the sock get wrinkled. After zipping it up, he repeated this for the other boot, being as meticulous as he could manage. With his boots on and his socks just right, he stood and straightened his jacket.

Don’t forget your HAT!!

Yeah, that’s important!

“Watch who yer bossin!”

He snatched up his green baret from it’s place by the door and set it on his head before very quietly unzipping the tent and bursting through the opening. The door watchman actually did fall over this time, his gun stopped only by Rage’s hand as it caught what was important to him.

“You won’t be needing this, then? No. I’ll hold on to it for ya.”

“I… BUT! Sir… yessir…”

Rage barely heard the watchman’s stammering. He was distracted by the sound of something large and metal hitting something small and metal. It was ringing in his ears like a bullet rings through the barrel. It was more than he could take. He had to find it.  

[Puff O Puff]

The ceiling was the same color as the floor- white. It contrasted Caden’s entire being, physically and emotionally. It seemed so much more important now than ever, everything had been like that since he was… diagnosed. He was only diagnosed two weeks ago, and ever since then he had come to this pharmacy more often than he would have liked.

Caden was waiting in line at the pharmacy just down the street of his apartment. He couldn’t help but be amused at how different he was from all of them. While they got asprin and allergy medicine, he was getting industrial strength pain medication.

Finally the line shortened until he was standing in front of the counter. He didn’t even look at the person behind the counter.

“I ran out, do you guys have my order yet?”

“Ummm… Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

When he heard this voice Caden froze and tore his eyes off the ceiling. In front of his was obviously a new employee. She wore the standard white uniform. She was a brown squirrel by the look of it, with large brown eyes, her name tag read “Samantha”, yep, definitely new.

“Oh! I’m sorry about that. Could you tell me where Max is?”

“He’s home sick today, he said something about the flu.”

“Oh… ummm. My name’s Caden Lagarto, I have an order that should have arrived today. Could you try to find it for me?

“Sure just gimme a sec.”

She turned around and went into the door a few feet behind her. This had to be one of her first days here, she seemed happy to work here. Not once during the entire conversation had her smile faltered. It unnerved him a little bit, she already reminded him of himself before… never mind.

Caden took a sudden intake of breath, his throat started to burn a little. Immediately he clamped his mouth shut. It didn’t help whatsoever. He wanted to say something, but he was afraid of what might happen.

Caden slowly breathed through his nose to try to not to hurt himself too bad. It was comforting but wasn’t going to last very long.

It only took a few more seconds before he caved. Involuntarily taking a deep breath he coughed and his entire body shook. Then he coughed again, and again, it just wouldn’t stop.

He vaguely heard the door to the backroom open, he sure as hell didn’t see her come running out with a box in her hands with his eyes jammed shut.

“Oh my god! Are you alright!?”

Slowly Caden’s coughing started to stop. When Caden opened his eyes he noticed he was on the floor. He didn’t dare move, so he lay there trying to look around without moving his head.

“Oh, thank God you’re alright!” That voice… it was the new girl… Samantha. Caden slowly turned his head towards the voice and saw her walking towards him with a glass of water. He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off by saying
“Shh… not so fast,” she reached him and put her open hand under his head and lifted it just slightly. She brought the cup up to his lips and said soothingly “Drink.”

He did as told without effort, the cool liquid soothed his aching throat. He looked up at her with a look of gratitude. She merely smiled a little. This lasted for several minutes. Her busying herself trying to take care of him. This was until Caden broke the silence by croaking out “Why?”

Samantha stopped what she was doing and turned towards him and smiled, that smile puzzled him so much…

“You needed help,” was all she said, it was all she needed to. Then she asked her own question.

“What does your tattoo mean?”

Caden shifted slightly and brought his hand up to his face. The five lines of words that traveled across his face like chains. They each had a meaning, he pointed towards one that snaked its way across his face and over both eyes.

“This means that to understand what truth is you must have lied first.”

His hand moved to the words that reached just over his nose.

“This one means everything cruel knows what kindness is.”

Caden’s hand started to tremble as it moved to the line just under it.

“This… to truly be happy… one must suffer.”

The trembling got worse still, his hand moved down. His eyes watering up.

“This… is the newest one… It’s a message to all who know me. It’s my… last request…”

At the Samantha’s brown eyes widened with surprise. Her lip started to quiver and she asked in a shaky whisper, “What is it?”

Surprisingly, despite tears now rolling from his eyes, Caden smiled and said in a raspy voice,

“Life’s beautiful… make the most out of it, and don’t cry at my funeral.”  

[izzabella11]

Feild walked her back through the way he had came at a brisk pace, into the room where the kid's prone form lay. When he reached him, without pause, he reached his leg back and set a swift kick into the rabbit's ribs.
It surprised her a bit but she couldn't stop herself from thinking, I wanted to do that...

He muttered after a single violent shake, followed by more muttering and groggy behavior. After fixating his eyes on Rook, he wakes up... quickly.
He scrambles up to his feet, pausing as his bad foot gives him a hard time.
He rose his voice to crackle, "YOU!" and other vague things Night didn't catch.

Rooks grin grew massive as he softly started to laugh.
He replied with "Oh yes, me."
They do know each other?

"YOU S-"wheeze" -'N 'oga BHITCH!

The kid attempted a horrible punch at Feild's chest. Being much shorter, the punch collided with Rooks stomach and it hardly phased him. "Now, is that anyway to greet your best friend?"

The rabbit- hn, what did the journal say? David? Is this the same kid?- slowly sits down on the mattress in pain as he realizes he is nowhere near fighting condition. He takes Rook's comment as an insult, as usual. After some more poor attempts to mudder curses at Rook, he goes into a coughing fit.

Once he regained minor control of himself, he slouches heavily and glares at Rook to the best of his capabilities while letting out a menacing grunt of disapproval.

Rook's back straightened a look of realization hit his face. He looked back at her and asked. "Wait.... you two know each other, when did this happen?"

The kid -Davis- stomps on the ground the second Rook turns his attention away from him. His ears flatten back and his tight pressed lips formed a growl.

Night raises an threatening eyebrow at the kid.

Feild laughed and said, "He always liked attention, it's best to just ignore him. Now tell me, how did you two meet?"

She mumbled, "We more or less helped each other."

Davis lets out a menacing grunt with a face of sheer rage.

"So you're saying that Robbie of all people actually helped you? Wow. He must really like you."

She winced, but then chuckled under her breath. "I'm persuasive. It's the only way I got in here."

"Lemme guess, gun to the back of the head? Sounds like the only way he would have said yes." She quietly nodded. "Good, seemed the only way to ever make him say yes in the past."

"You know him that well?"

Davis flips Rook off with red face full of anger. What a lovely 'best friend'.

"Yeah we met... Some time ago. He was about the same little p***k we all know and love, he has always been like this."

"Reassuring." The word dripped with sarcasm.

"You get used to it, it starts to grow onto you, then you punch him and do something drastic."

Robert plugs his ears, faces the wall, and violently throws himself against his bed. He curled his knees to his chest.

"Soooo, Feild leaned against the wall facing her, "Does Robbie know your a convie?"

At these words little gasp escaped from the rabbit. He pulled his hands off his ears by inches.

"I..." Horribly descriptive images of that place flashed into her mind's eye. The filth, the solitude, the weakness, that shade. God forbid, that shade...
"It's not really mentionable..."

"Hmmmm... Bad memories? Understandable, trust me.... I've been there."

Night crushed him with a withering look. He had no right to say that. He stayed on the good side of the door. He went home in the evening. And he could go to hell if he thought this was sympathy.
Either through ignoring it or stupidity, the glare sailed right over his head, and he continued.

"The wonders of solitude and a bleak wall, I love old fashioned cells, don't you? So bleak and boring makes someone go crazy. Hell, last time I was in a cell I started to see things."

She fidgeted a bit under his words. "Just shut up."

Again, the man had the guts to grin. "Ya know," He stated a bit softly, "Robbie has an even better reason to hate you now. Robbie hasn't had too many good experiences with convies."

"It's not his choice."

"Ya know, I'm starting to like the way you think."

The rabbit did his best to appear unfazed by this new found knowledge. Facing the wall still, curled up, shoulders hunched, hands hovering above his ears. Listening intently but pretending not to.

Rook lifted his wrist and inspected the watch that was fastened on it. "Well I'm on borrowed time. My squad should be waiting for me a few blocks away from me in around ten minutes."

Davis rolled over to utter a few raspy words. "Your, squad...?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention Robbie. I have a squad. They know me as John Able, I stole his identity for a bit." He flips both sides of his uniform's collar.

The kid's face looks a little more relieved at these words. He attempts to contain his rage and rasp out one last word. "Out."

"Awwwwww, But I would miss you Robbie~."

Rob takes an unsteady breath through his nose. "OUT!"
The empty warehouse amplified his yell. Even Night jumped.

That cocky grin fell off Feild's face fast. Hesitance. "Very well. I got what I came for." Both mobains look like they have more to say, but don't.

Rook turned to Night as he walked out. He leaned close to her and said in a barely audible voice, "Keep the journal... if I die, I want to have something left of me." She didn't know wither she wanted to quickly thank him or curse him, but he had already swung around and exited the warehouse, pulling the sliding wall behind him.  

[crazyC0llec70r]

General Winters held the microphone of a radio in his hand, the poor device was under a lot of stress as the general was not in a particularly good mood. "Sergeant, I hope you realize that prisoner held a great amount of significance to the Emperor."

The voice from the radio came through a little fuzzy. "Yes, Sir. I was merely following orders. I was ordered to stop him, but not at the cost of my own life. I was told that's what the robots are for. My gun jammed, sir, there was nothing more I could have done without getting myself killed."

The large bear grumbled. "Very well. I will be speaking to your superior later on this matter. Winters out." He shut off the device, not waiting for a response. "Why do I even bother?" He rubbed a hand through his short hair. "It seems I may be needed to bring this one in and keep it in." He stood up, and began to put on his jacket.

"Going out, General?" Came the voice of his secretary from outside his office.

"Postpone all my appointments for today. There are a few things I need to take care of." He grabbed his hat from where it sat on his desk.

"Very well, General. I'll try to fit them into your schedule for the rest of the week."

General Winters strode confidently from his office. It had been a while since he'd seen the field. Perhaps it was time he got out from behind his desk and stretched his muscles.  

[Clutch 45]

Smoke still filled the sky.
This city… it’s never going to be the same. They’ll rebuild, restock, repopulate… but it’ll always hold a certain foreboding. It’ll never really be what it was.
Even after a day of cleanup and restoration of what could by some be called order, the once over populated city of Rapture still very much looked like a constant war zone. A reminder of just how close we can get to bringing Hell here ourselves. As John Kenderson found his way back to the base after overseeing a group of freed prisoners to one of the Med-Care facilities, as per his orders the previous night. He entered the immensely huge and even more crowded City Hall only to find himself face to face to face to face-- staring into the grudging eyes of six clearly miffed lower ranking delinquents. After a moment of dull, sleep deprived confusion, he finally came to remember who they were.
“Ah, right. Good, you waited. It’s a good thing, too, because if you hadn’t been here…”
John’s half hearted threat fell on deaf ears, as the six young soldiers had easily read his lost expression followed by obvious sudden realization.
“We could have--!” The Sergeant let out a huge sigh and held choked on his comment.
“Yes, Sir. Here we are. Can we be dismissed? We’ve been here, getting grilled for being lazy and making excuses, none of us got any sleep waiting for you to come back, Sir… I think we’ve learned our lesson.”
Anger flashed in Kenderson’s eyes.
Of course you’d think that. Typical. Kid, your silver spoon ends here. No one’s gonna just cater to whatever you think is right. Not anymore.
“Got that right--”
AHH! NO!! BUNK!! I’m freaking TALKING to myself!! AGH!
“What, Sir?”
“NO! Ah, don’t worry about it. No, you can’t be dismissed! That wasn’t your punishment, how spoiled have you been?? I’m glad you feel you learned something during your horrible suffering, but I have something far more useful in mind for you. You’ll be staying here a while, and it’ll be your job to ‘govern’ temporarily in the place of the city officials who have been removed by this hostile takeover. Which, might I remind you, IS OVER.”
The reaction of the soldiers was one of unanimous distress. It was almost comical how animated their faces were. Given the treatment that the troops in any one of Rage’s (I wonder what rank he is now…) squads would have received if they’d shown such reactions, John’s mind hung on the word: almost. He knew full well that (himself excluded, for the most part) any soldier under rage to act in such a way would be punished so instantaneously, and so very brutally that though that recruit may not survive, none of the others (as they’d all be present) would dare follow the young fool’s example.
How they survived this long is beyond me… I realize Rage’s unit is far and away the most inhumane, has the highest death rate both on and off the field, and has the all time highest record for numbers of people on both sides eviscerated, but none the less, the entire Army is very strict. I don’t know how these jerks get away with it.
“What?! Sir-- our unit--!”
Kenderson waved his hand to the side as if to flick the Sergeant’s complaint away like a small bug. Or perhaps to flick away the small bug that was buzzing in his ear.
“The necessary calls have already been made. The six of you have already been fully transferred to a semi-permanent position here in Rapture City Hall. I have your new orders here,” he handed them an envelope filled with six individual sets of orders that he’d written and tucked into his jacket pocket that night, “they go into effect as soon as you finish reading them. I shouldn’t have to say this, but I get the distinct feeling that it’s necessary. If you fail to follow through, you will be tried and, trust me, convicted of treason and insubordination.”
John Kenderson allowed himself to smirk slightly, feeling accomplished, professional, and proud of it. The six young soldiers read their new orders, taking the lead of the Sergeant as usual, quiet and full of despair. If even possible, their shoulders slumped further still as they found that they wouldn’t be working with each other. As a matter of fact, the way the orders were written, they would hardly ever see their friends faces. They’d each be working with entire teams of people they didn’t know, didn’t trust, and didn’t respect. That didn’t really narrow it down much… the six of them didn’t really like anyone outside their little group. They looked up to John, the young Sergeant bearing a dark scowl. John stood as tall as he could manage, though most of them were his same height, if not slightly taller. With a collective sigh, the game him a collective “Yes, Sir” as they tossed their limp hands to their temples.
“Good! You’ll find the necessary E-Bots over there waiting for you,” John indicated several ‘Bots with a nod of his head, “and they’ll show you how to use the computers.” John gestured to a desk filled with laptops sprouting thick wires and cords like something alive as he returned salute and turned to leave. He was still smiling as he walked onward to his…
“Bunk.”
His stature dropped considerably, as he remembered he still needed to make another report. He groaned and diverted, now headed back into the undulating mass of military.
Well, so much for getting to sleep before noon, today...  

[TrivialCipher]

He was right there. Rob's exhausted body refused to cooperate with his mind. He couldn't shout, stand, he could hardly move. There wasn't a doubt in his head that he'd never pushed his body to such a limit. It felt good, in some strange way. His foot's agony harmonizing to the scratch in his throat and the banged up sack of flesh that he believed was still the body underneath his head felt like some sort of reward. Like the torment he was currently enduring was the world's way of congratulating him for managing to hold on to his own life. The pain wouldn't go away for days, he was already aware of that. It didn't help either that the victor of his 'finest hour' had invaded Rob's personal sanctum so that she could keep an eye on her pray in case it started breathing again.

The spite he was trying to contain was surprisingly bearable. Rook was one of his most hated people on the face of the planet. Despite what they'd been through together, Rob promised that the next time he saw that traitor would be the last. He was far from used to killing people, if there was such a thing. But after the years he had to relentlessly brood, he'd convinced himself that it was the right thing to do.

The events of today (Or, last night.) had been far to much to take. Rob could feel his anger towards Rook slipping away alarmingly quickly, and he welcomed the relief. Perhaps his body understood that his previous encounter with Rook would be better off forgotten. All of his built up rage would consume him, and force him to lash out on a murderous she-devil not even 10 feet away from him.

Anger management wasn't exactly Rob's forte. But this was, yet again, another life-or-death situation. If he lost his cool now, there'd be no way he could defend himself. He could keep his mouth shut and try to sleep, but knowing that Rook was in rapture at this moment. Dressed in a MILITARY getup no less. He had to distract himself. There must've been something he could do to stop himself from expending whatever last amount of energy he'd miraculously held on to.

You're wanted?

Wait... What? did he just speak? To her? Rob mentally slapped himself and held back a nervous gulp. He may or may not have just successfully ended his own life. He prayed she didn't hear, or at least didn't care to acknowledge what he'd just said. There was no response. The bat didn't move. Her eyes remained locked on the notebook in her hands.

How DARE she!?! Rob had politely asked her a question, and she didn't even acknowledge his existence? He wouldn't have it. Not in his own hideout. This was his home, and she was intruding. If she had a problem with that, it sucked to be her. He did his best to raise his voice without it giving out on him. You think you're any better then me? Am I not worth your time?

She made no attempt at eye contact. The bat seemed entranced by whatever was written on those pages. But Rob could make out her mumbling. You have no idea.

Was that a challenge? Poor Robert had completely forgotten about his plan to not provoke this woman. He didn't care what she was capable of. He didn't care about what he wasn't capable of at the moment. He wasn't about to back down. His voice grew cocky as he leaned forward and looked straight at her. Try me.

This bat wasn't very interested in making small talk. Hmph. No thanks. She continued to read.

Rob was losing hope in his meaningless conversation rapidly. He'd convinced himself that every moment he spent talking with her meant the less time thinking about... you know who. Pssh. Another half-a** who thinks they've had it rough. Caught shoplifting or something?

The bat raised an eyebrow to this and scoffed at his remark.

By now, Rob was intrigued on what she was hiding. Maybe it was simply because he didn't know what it was and that alone was driving him insane. But what would it hurt if she told him a bit about herself. Humor me, what's your story?

Nothing. She faced her back to him and fiddled with the pages of the notebook.

Rob keeps his gaze focused on her for an uncomfortable amount of time afterwards. Perhaps laying down would be the best thing for him right now. It took energy then he could muscle together just to sit up. She refused to respond, so what was the point in trying? He laid his head back on the mattress and mumbled. You and me both...

Then stop bitching.

Yet another person who refuses to give him the respect he deserved. Funny. whenever a kid's got a point to prove, it's considered bitching. Age doesn't make you better than me.

Experience does.

Rob felt like losing it, but couldn't find the strength. He attempted to roll overto his side and glare at her, but sometihing else caught his attention when he did so. That's his journal, isn't it?

Her hand hovered in mid-turn to look at him over her shoulder. She had a questioning look on her face.

Rob didn't want to think about Rook at all. But given the fact that his journal was in the room, it was impossible to stay away from the topic. I know who's it is. Why do you have his journal?

Why do you have his warehouse?

It's our warehouse, thank you. We made this place together.

Lucky you. The sarcasm in the air was intoxicating.

You take any help you can get when you're on the streets. But you probably know that already, don't you?

Heh. You might.

Rob was impressed he'd kept it together for that long. But the inevitable happened. He let his anger get the best of him, and screamed at her from the mattress. Okay cut the tough girl act! You one-upped me out in the street, I'll give you that. But d-cough, do you think I'm just gonna let a complete stranger make themselves at home here?

Rob stopped to think for half a second. I could turn you in in a heartbeat and not lose a bit of sleep over it, so give me a reason otherwise. It was a pathetic threat, but the best he had. Besides, mentioning her past seemed to put her on edge.

With no warning, she slammed the book shut. The echo amplified itself as it traveled across the room. She swiveled on one foot, facing him, and put her hands on her knees to bend in close. The bat gave him a smug grin.

At first, he jumped at the sound. Then he leaned back against the wall with his shoulders raised and head lowered. Once the grin came out, he let out a measly gasp. She's going to kill me. Rob controlled his nerves as yet another potential end was looking him in the eye. He simply didn't have the energy to be afraid. He'd used everything he had. At best, he might've been able to puff himself up one last time.

Muscling up whatever courage and strength he had left. Rob sat up, met her gaze, and smiled back. Rob raised his voice and screamed like there was no tomorrow. Do it! I should be dead *cough* already! I know you can convie! Just do it! He threw his hands in the air. Free shot! Take it, or cut the act!

Even though Rob knew what he was trying to say, his words came out as nearly nothing but rasps. The bat's expression toughened, brow furrowed and lips pressed together, held, then softened. She'd heard him, but he didn't know just what she was planning. Her face toughened yet again. She flung her elbow back and clenched it, muscles tightened. Only to pull it back again with a hiss. Her fist hovered back and forth in the air.

Rob saw her dilemma. Even though she tried to come off as murderous and bloodthirsty earlier, he was starting to realize that she was indeed acting. His expression slowly turns from that of panic to confidence. His quivering ceased, and he let out a smirk. Don't have it in ya?

Her eyes flew open wide with rage. Her jaw was set tight. Every muscle in her arm was coiled. And then... her eyebrows went up, and her mouth relaxed. She leaned her face in close and smiled wide. Her fist unclenched as she reached for the floor. Rob saw what she was planning. Desperately, he squirmed back and forth to keep his left leg out of her reach. But she overpowered him, and placed two fingers and a thumb right over the injured spot on his left foot.

Rob's broken scream traveled throughout the room before dying quickly. She kept pinching what felt like the exact nerve that had left him crippled. Rob's entire body violently lashed out in all directions. The light started fading from the room. He'd lost the energy to shout, or fight back in any way. Miraculously, the pain slowly faded away. He managed to open his eyes once he'd regained control of his own body. Only to see this nameless bat glaring at him from above with the same smug impression.Underestimate me again...

That's gotta be it. He tried to convince himself that she wasn't capable of anything else. As a matter of fact, chances were she wouldn't dare do that again. The pain was intolerable, yes. But she'd only proved his point, this woman was no murderer. Any threat on his life she'd presented so far was nothing but a ruse. Looks like I win Tempting fate yet again, rob did his best to sit up one last time, and deliver the killing blow. Already did. Rob managed a cocky smile Bring it.

He'd obviously taken whatever joy she'd gotten from the moment and killed it dead in it's tracks. She scowled as she rolled her eyes. The bat threw his left leg back onto the bed, spinning him ninety degrees. You're pathetic.

He'd won. The victory felt sweet. Or, at least. He thought it would feel sweet if he could feel anything right now. basking in his victory, he let his entire body go lifeless as his head turned to look at her. You're the one torturing a cripple, convie. I've got nothing to lose. Kill me if you want, I don't care. But if you're not gonna do it already, you might as well entertain me

I'm not fighting you again. You were better asleep.

Rob laughed, only to grasp his stomach directly afterwards you can't really blame me when you didn't have the balls to shut me up. Just cut the crap, why would you let me live? Because you need me, and you know it

She froze and stared up at him like he was an idiot. Did you seriously just forget what happened two seconds ago? And you're still talking s**t? This isn't even your place, kid.

If you wanna leave, be my guest. I'm not keeping you. But If you want this place you've got to kill me first. So yeah, it is my place.

She closed her eyes and gave a heavy huff. I want me out of here as much as you do, but it just can't happen yet.

Rob suddenly remembered the threat that lurked outside of that room. Like it or not, he was stuck with this girl. Neither of them were in condition to brave the rest of Rapture. He did want her out of the freezer, but he didn't have the power to kick her out. All that was left to do was wait until he gained his strength. The one useful thing he could do until that moment was gather info on just what the military's motives were. He asked in a quiet, curious tone. Do you know why they did this?

The bat stopped reading Rook's passages. I've thought about it for the last fifteen months. She went from leaning on the wall to sitting against it. I don't know.

Rob stared at the ceiling. What's your plan?

You ask too many questions. She crossed her legs and put her hands around the journal in her lap. It doesn't matter to you once I'm gone.

Rob dreaded even thinking of Rook. If it involves 'him,' yes. It does matter to me.

She turned her head up to look at him. The second he turned his head back towards her, she broke eye contact. She drummed her fingers on the cover of the journal for a moment. ...You two were close?

Rob looked away at the same time she did. His voice was quiet and submissive. I can't believe I'm about to say this.He's the closest thing to a friend I've ever had. He saved me, back when I was a kid. I'd be dead if it weren't for him. For some reason, he took to me. Even though- His voice got slightly shaky as he continued. Even though all I ever did was slow him down. He might seem crazy on the outside, but I know him better.

The woman's blank expression was unfazed, but she kept a lock on his face.

Rob turned towards her. His expression made it obvious that this wasn't an easy thing to talk about. At least, I thought I did. Just how did she know Rook? It seemed weird enough that they'd conversed. But that was his journal she was reading. Do you know him well?

Uh, y-ya-. well, not really.

Oh. Makes sense, he doesn't hang around for to long. Rob let out a heavy sigh. Learned that the hard way.

She held the awkward silence for a short while and then started, I'd call him... a partner in crime.

Murdered someone I'm guessing?

Think what you'd like.

Rob tried to scoot towards the end of the bed, but only got halfway before he was gasping for air again. It was quite obvious he wasn't going to be getting up today. You refuse to give me even half an answer. I realize you don't wanna be here, and I don't want you here either. But given the situation, He didn't want to say it, but. You're the closest thing to friendly contact I'm gonna have for a while. I can't give you a reason to talk to me, but chances are I'll never see you again. What could it hurt?.

She hunched her shoulders and slid down the wall to slouch a bit. More than you apparently think. My mood is not now, nor will it ever be, any of your business.
There was no edge to her tone when she said this. She watched him from over her shoulder. She looked forward again to mutter. No, no murders. Well, not many. In fact not much at all.

Ohh. Theft or something. Assassination was his thing, but maybe he's changed.

He's the one that put all the papers up in that room? She motioned to the backroom

Rob was practically spilling his guts for this girl but he didn't really mind. Simply talking and thinking about all of this felt very therapeutic. Yeah. His 'trophy room' or some s**t like that. It's weird, reading those things sometimes. Seeing the way society reacted to his antics. That's how he kept us fed, and the way he'd put it. You'd think he was doing the right thing.

Really? ...It makes since, from what I've seen.

Rob let out a sigh. I promised myself I'd kill him if I ever saw him again.

You're all talk.

Who asked you?

You did.

Piss off. He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

Night eased off a bit. Her eyebrows raised a tad. Oh, she muttered softly. She stood up and dug around in her pocket.

Rob jumped the second she stood up and tried to back himself up against the wall.
Her hand held something in her coat pocket. After seeing the half-second of terror that went across his face, she underhand tossed something straight into his nose. Bang.

Rob flailed at the thing until it hit him right on his left cheek. He took a moment to look at the key, and then back up with a bit of panic still present on his face. That's not funny.

That's yours.

Rob gave the strange key a confused look. Uh, no. It's not.

Hm? That's what I was told. You wanted it.

Told by- ...what are you talking about?

No? Ah, then give it back.
She held out a hand.

Rob suddenly felt protective over the key. Well wait. What's it go to?

Dunno. She leaned her hips to absently look back into the back room.

Rob tossed it onto the bed in front of him. Whatever

She gathered his Magnum from the desk and stood into the door frame into the back. I'm going to be working in here.

She was touching his gun! Rob shot up out of bed only to remember that his body refused to cooperate, he nearly made it off the bed before his limbs locked up on him. All he could do was watch and beg. Hey! Put that down!

The bat acted like she didn't even hear, except for a verbal response as she turned the corner into the back room. Sit down. I am not going to ruining anything. Just something to do. You keep your tools in such bad condition, I'm going to fix it.

She's going to break it! Never before had Robert felt so helpless in his life ...scratch that. This was a close second, or third. he continued his pleading, it was all he could do. I never said it needed fixing. It's fine. Just put it down.

She came out of the room with a bottle of WD40, a few rags, and a gun brush. She looked at him, and then the 44. No. I'm taking care of this.

Why does it matter anyway? I thought you wanted me dead?

Her eyes came back to his. I never said that, did I?

Without a response, she walked back over to the wall by Rob's mattress and laid out her supplies.

Confused and afraid, He gave out one more Stop!

She did, and turned her hip to face him. She didn't seem all that patient.

He'd gotten her attention, but he didn't really know what to say. Everything that had happened today was difficult to swallow. The military killing and capturing innocent people, Rook showing up on Rob's doorstep after years, and now, the woman he thought would kill him was fixing his weaponry. He said the only thing he could think of. The one word he'd been thinking of all day. Why?

The bat blinked. What kind of question is that, boy? Did anyone ever teach you how to clean these? She actually sounded curious.

Rob's face went grim, his pale fur went white as he looked away. Somebody was going to. Somebody he'd been trying to ignore for four years now. Dad said he would...

The bat frowned and tensed again at the emotion in his voice. He watched her remove the chamber of his gun. Just, His voice was really uneasy. Be careful, please. That means a lot to me... I'm serious.

She flicked her eyes up half a second and disregarded him. This is police issued.

Rob was petrified. He knew what she was going to ask next. ...Yeah.

She didn't need any tools. Without touching it, the metal clicked from the inside and and revolving barrel came out. You're not a cop. Feild's?

Even thinking of the name sent his mind reeling through past traumas. Every fall he'd taken since his time on the streets, the men he had to shoot in order to keep himself alive. All the nights he spent holding himself in tears with nothing but the haunting melody of an ally at night to keep him company. And most of all, the look on his mother's face, with a bullet in her forehead. He knew exactly who's it was. ...Steven's

She didn't dare press the issue and moved on in silence, twisting the brush down the barrel using the rags on pieces that needed it. the silence in the room was unwelcome. All Robert could hear was the serenade of screams from outside replaying in his head. The horror on Dave's face as he took his last breath. Rob had killed another man. That made six. Six names he'd never forget. Six faces that would make his nights sleepless. The silence had to be broken.

It's Robert. In case you were wondering. The words fell flat, there was no echo to accompany them. Rob Davis

She looked up with surprise on her face. She held her hands still. It actually took a moment to remember her own name, not a number. Night. Night Lu- ...just Ni-

Yeah I don't give a s**t.

Rob closed his eyes. Even if he slept, he would get no rest.  

[Ehrinn]

The twin choppers neared their destination after a swift flight over the city. The weather was perfect; clear up high, with just enough cloud cover that they could proceed mostly unnoticed. That is, until they reached the prison. For some reason, last night's storm seemed to be hanging around that area. As the choppers entered the high winds and heavy rains, they came to where the distress signal had been sent from. On the ground, the pilots could see an obliterated bot; what looked to be an E-SsG, and a soldier outside the prison. There were also two other figures leaving the prison, what appeared to be an unauthorized, armed civilian being followed by a one armed soldier.

Ronin looked skyward at the growing hum of helicopter blades. "That's not good." Brom raised his gaze and spoke between labored breaths. "Sounds like a heavy chopper." .... "Probably got some bots in it." ... "No way we can outrun it either." .. "Not on foot at least."

Shane squinted as dirt and debris were thrown about by the chopper's gust. They likely came in response to the downed bot's distress call. He took a drag on his cigarette. Let's hope they don't know I wrecked it. He awaited its arrival; it was best to not bring unwanted attention to himself by running.

The choppers continued to hover as the mobian pilot surveyed the scene. "Grey Wasp 1 to Black Wasp 2. One possible hostile and two friendlies in the vicinity. Fire two warning shots at each side of the Prison door." Having given his order to the other chopper, one totally controlled by a computer, he switched on his loudspeaker and gave his warning as the shots were fired. "ATTENTION! ALL SOLDIERS ON THE PREMISES WILL STAND AT ATTENTION! THE HEDGEHOG WITH THE SWORD WILL STAND DOWN IMMEDIATELY, OR FORCE WILL BE USED! YOU WILL NOT RECEIVE ANOTHER WARNING! PUT THE SWORD DOWN, AND BACK AWAY! YOU HAVE TWO SECONDS!" Both choppers then aimed their noses toward the prison door and those exiting it.

Shane looked at the distant figures walking from the prison. It seems I'm safe for now. That'll suit me until I know what's going on here. He motioned his arm in a quick salute to the chopper. He moved rather slowly though. The speed of his arm differed enough for him to take notice. His movements were becoming lethargic. That energy drink is starting to wear off.

Brom jumped back and did a quick scan for cover. He had no intentions of fighting a pair of choppers today. Ronin smirked as he looked up at the pilot, shouting orders as though his words mattered. "Well, guess they just don't like me." He lifted his sword over one shoulder, as he held his other hand up, displaying his vulgar mannered response.

"That--! ALRIGHT, YOU WERE WARNED! OPEN FIRE! With that, the pilot switched off the speaker and unloaded his machine guns at the hedgehog while the auto-chopper did the same. "Black Wasp 2, drop cargo now! If we happen to miss, we should be ready!" The undersides of the choppers opened wide, allowing ten bots, five in each, to fall feet first to the ground. Most hit the ground well, only two crumpling in heaps from overly stiff legs. After the eight successful bots landed, they immediately formed ranks surrounding two very large empty spaces.

Ronin was lucky the guy piloting the first chopper had horrible aim. The other chopper, however, was far more accurate. The choppers turned slowly in unison. Ronin was able to dodge ahead of their bullets, but only just barely. He swore he saw a bullet steal a passing glance at him; a mere half an inch away from his face. He was now regretting wasting his time insulting them. He watched as the bots descended. "This should be interesting..." Brom saw a nearby cluster of rocks, and dove behind them while the choppers were distracted by Ronin. "s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t!"

"Release!" At this command, both choppers gained nearly ten feet of altitude as each one unclamped their cargo. Seconds later, the ground shook twice in quick succession sending mud flying in all directions and completely coating the surrounding bots. Two huge bots, each equal in size to the fallen one, could just barely be made out through the monsooning rain. Such was their considerable size, that only from a distance could their outline be made out; save for the orange glow of their optic sensors. "All units, converge on the hedgehog!"

A mechanical "SIR." rang through the ranks as they surged forward, raining bullets through the bullets of rain. The pilot ordered the second chopper to land, and began setting his own on the ground. As he was descending, however, the auto-chopper, uncaring of his position, very nearly took him out. "HEY! Watch where you're landing, you-- stupid computers..." The pilot managed to steer out of the way, but not before losing some cargo boxes. One such crate, the largest one in his load, landed with a loud squelch in some particularly deep and murky mud.

Ronin tensed the muscles in his sword arm as he did his best to evade the bullets. Despite his best efforts, a stray bullet tore a hole in the left shoulder of his jacket. "Dammit! I liked this jacket!" They have got to run out of bullets sooner or later. He prepared an attempt to bring himself closer to the bots. He began charging energy into the arm not carrying his sword. It triggered a faint, dark green aspect as the energy emanated from his palm. Brom watched this from behind his rock. "You're an idiot, you know that, right?"

The choppers ultimately managed to land safely. The pilot got out and quickly surveyed the damage done by his thoughtless 'wingman', and resigned himself to the task of gathering info on the situation. He grabbed a small handheld database and hastily made his way over toward Shane. He returned his salute and sighed heavily. He glanced briefly at the young fox and back at his handheld. "Where are you tags, soldier? " He looked quickly at his shoulder, "By your rank, you should know that you're supposed to have them on at all times." Lowering his salute, Shane listened to the sergeant rattle on about his tags. That was up until his voice got a little shrill. This was no doubt a realization that he had just attempted to interrogate a superior officer over something so menial. "Perhaps I simply misunderstood you soldier. Come again?"

As the bots neared their adversary, they began forming a circle around him; showering him with ammo. The behemoths stood just behind the lines of small bots and readied their own weapons. On one, twin, belt-fed turrets replaced it's hands. The other had a nearly identical setup, but rather than the machine guns, the bot had been adorned with miniature rocket launchers. The two bots locked their arms into position, allowing them superior aim, and advanced through the line toward Ronin.

Ronin looked at the two big bots. "Well... It could be worse." He dodged towards the two larger bots, thrusting his sword forward as he moved. He aimed for the heart of the one with rockets. "Explosives are dangerous," He said with a smirk as he thrust his blade at the bot. He simultaneously aimed his other palm at one of the bots arms. "Chaos Press!" He was attempting to wrench the arm out of its firing position with sheer force.

Several small missiles were blasted from their place on the bot's loading carriage, leaving pockmarks in the ground near the choppers. The bot's arm swung away by a couple of inches, causing it to recoil slightly. It was barely noticeable, as the other arm was already launching a small volley of three missiles; even as the sword connected with the hardened metal of the bot's upper torso armor. At such close range, this could cause a bit of backfire, but the bot wasn't worried about that any more than the sword. It's hide would more than protect against the resulting blasts, just as it had easily deflected the blade. Though, the tip of the sword did dig further into the metal than it should've.

Ronin used the upward momentum of his blade bouncing off the bot to kick off the ground in an attempt to jump over the machine's shoulder. "s**t, s**t, s**t! Rockets!" With his free hand, he grabbed the steel plating around the bot's neck. He pulled on it, hard, to give himself the rest of the momentum he needed to get up and over the machine and onto it's back. "Hey! Wolf guy! I could use a bit of help here!" Upon hearing the crazy hedgehog call him, Brom continued to sit behind the boulder. "Dammit! If only I still had my arm! Then maybe I could do something! But, no! Someone had to go and cut it off!" Ronin clung to the back of the machine, attempting to find a weakness in it's armor he could shove his sword into. "Maybe you should have thought about that before pointing a gun at an angry, sword wielding hedgehog!"

The bot swiveled it's head around as well as it's arm. Rather than aiming at the stowaway, however, it clamped into the shaft of it's axe on it's back, having come to the conclusion that close range rocket warfare would likely fail at every attempt. As it freed the weapon and swung upward, the other bot began to spray bullets at the space above it's 'brother's' head in hopes of removing the clinging escapee.

"I, um. Well, Sir, I was just... well, it is strict policy, Sir. If it were something lesser... Sir, I'm sorry to seem so brazen, but it's still required of everyone that they retain their tags at all times." Shane remained calm and spoke as if he demanded respect. "I'm well aware of the policy, Private, but I think this situation behind you might take precedence over my tags at this moment." He took a final drag from his cigarette before casting it aside to be swallowed by a nearby mud puddle. "What? I don--" The soldier turned and saw the chaos behind him. Before he could begin yelling orders, however, one of the E-PvT bots approached the sergeant. >SIR. THE DEFEATED E-SSG'S FINAL MOMENTS HAVE BEEN FULLY DOWNLOADED INTO MY MEMORY BANKS. I HAVE NEWS THAT MUST BE NOW PASSED TO YOU. THE--< "DODGE!" The sergeant bellowed at the bot as a stray missile came loose from the already damaged carriage and tumbled toward them. The small bot complied and jumped out of the way, along with the two soldiers. The small blast did some minimal damage to the crates that had been brought along, but was otherwise harmless.

Ronin watched as the weapon was dislodged from the large robot's back. "That... is an axe... I did not see that coming." Ronin let go of the machine's back, coming to a realization that it was futile to attempt to find a weak point in its heavily armored torso. He would need to take out it's arms and legs first. At the last moment before he fell, he kicked off the machine's back to try and put a few feet between them, so that the machine would not simply step on him. He quickly got to his feet and prepared himself for the bot's attackBAM!... the bot's head was suddenly missing from the the torso. All that remained was a sparking wired mess of a hole. The bot slumped over and Jim Bob came around the side of it covered in a bit of mud and wood splinters. Jeff shoved the defeated bot, its neck still smoking from the blast, into the mud below and placed one foot atop it. He pulled out a cloth and stroked the barrel of his high tech shotgun. "Sorry 'bout dat der mess, 'em was in de way." Jim Bob scoffed, "You jus' been waitin' for an excuse ta use that blasted new gun a yurs." He shook his head and brushed some of the wood chips off of his flannel shirt and then stretched a bit. "Sure is uncomfortable spendin the dag gum n'tire day crammed up in that durn cargo box. We ain't had us nothin' good to eat, 'sides jerky an a few o dem new drinks they got out now. Oh yeah, affore I plum forget.." He bumbled over to the damaged cargo crate and grabbed something from it, then returned to the hedgehog. He held a red lantern out towards him. "Cayden sends his regards. He's glad'ure wantin' this here light. It's been keepin' 'em up all night."

~tsst~

Jeff popped the top on a can of Emer-X and was about to take a swig, but the sound of the can top raised a nearby fox's ears. Half a second later, Jeff was on the ground; his drinking hand now empty. He looked around to see what had just happened, a confused look upon his face. Shane crushed the now empty can and chucked it at the hedgehog. "You better know what you're doing swordmaster. This Army doesn't mess around."

Jim Bob let out a loud laugh at what had just transpired. Jeff, however, was less than pleased as he wiped the mud off his pants. "An' that was the las' one in the box too." Dissapointed, Jeff began walking towards Megapolis, shaking his head and mumbling to his gun.. "S'ok Bess, I'll getcha all cleaned up right, chulsee." Jim Bob stifled his laughter and turned back to the hog. He placed the lantern on top of the downed bot and half-heartedly nodded. He then turned and followed Jeff towards the city, gracefully pulling the back of his jeans in an attempt to relieve himself of a wedgie.

The sergeant and the bot had finally recovered. The sergeant was standing slack jawed at what had just happened. As he was about to order the duo be fired upon, the bot found it's voice. >THE E-SSG WAS REMOVED FROM DUTY BY THIS MASTER SERGEANT. QUESTIONING IS RECOMMENDED.<

"WHAT??" He whipped his head around and shot daggers through his eyes at Shane. "You-- you're a traitor then! FIRE! Fire at will! The master sergeant has defected!! BRING THEM DOWN!" At this command, the nine small bots still in formation, the ones by the pilot and the one turret wielding bot trained their sights on the unlikely group of mobians. The turrets began spinning madly only an instant before pelting the ground around them and the prison wall behind them with lead. Large chunks of the rock the one-armed mobian was hiding behind went flying, though his position remained uncompromised. The ten considerably smaller bots added their low intensity lasers to the mix, vaporizing rain drops even as they fell.

Ronin jumped behind the felled bot and grabbed the lantern, clipping it to the scabbard of his sword. "I may need this later." He gathered what energy he could into his free hand. His eyes flashed towards the fox whom had thrown the can at him. He was beginning to ooze Chaos energy. "What in the...?"

Shane didn't really know what possessed him to throw himself upon the poor creature and steal the drink, but he recalled the times with counselors that had attempted to cure his addictive behavior.... not surprisingly his recollection didn't last long as his attendance to the meetings were non-existant. Suddenly, a new surge of energy was flowing through him. Ok, what just happened? I literally don't even see the enemies anymore... This wasn't entirely true, but in Shane's mind, the bots sort of just blurred together.

Ronin looked over at the fox, his eyes seeming to glaze over. "Hey, space cadet! I should be saying the same to you!" He turned and shouted over his shoulder. "Hey, Captain Cripple! Can I get some cover fire?" "Wha- HEY!" He popped just enough of himself out from behind his rock to begin firing on the robots, coming very close to hitting Ronin. "No need for that, now!" Ronin yelled back as he dodged the bullets from both directions, running towards chain gun hands.

Shane could hear the hedgehog yelling at him as the blurs were forming shapes. He was starting to realize that the blurring was coming from all the rain. It was as if he could sense every drop of water falling from the clouds. The water flowed in showers over each of them. He could sense it being sprayed in a circular motion from the helicopter blades as they sliced through the droplets. He felt each vibration in the mud as the rain touched separate puddles throughout the area. There was a disturbance in the water in front of him, making its way through the rain. He could feel the metallic surface of the bullet as it broke through the downpour. With one twitch in his hand the bullet froze and was forced to the murky water at his feet. In less than a second each bullet in his direction was dispatched to the mud below. He seemed to dodge the lasers effortlessly, knowing their exact paths and the position to be in to avoid them. The newfound sense was terrifying, and yet, exhilarating.

The E-SsG picked up sudden movement and reassessed its aim, sending its own brand of pepper spray at the fast approaching target. Seeing that the hedgehog would soon be too close for it's guns to be of any use, it disengaged its axe arm from shooting position and swiveled it around behind its back; latching onto the weapon in question. It gave its powerful, scare tactic bellow and swung the axe around. It was more a show of force then an real attack. The E-pvT's redirected their fire to compensate for the bigger bot's new priority, sending more lasers in the directions of the fox and the one armed wolf.

The small bots' fire kept Brom huddled behind his rock as lasers continued to pelt it. This bot had good aim, but it was just aiming for where Ronin had been, rather than his actual position. He figured the rain must have been messing with its sensors. He smirked as he plunged his spare hand into the muddy ground, approaching the bot. "Chaos Press!" The force of the attack sent a spray of mud speeding towards the bot in front of him.

The disturbance was easy to sense for him, but Shane still found himself surprised to hear the hedgehog's words as they broke through his thoughts nonetheless. The sword bearer sent a shower of mud at the large bot, with a great show of force. He could feel the water's displacement from the ground and directed his arms accordingly, flowing with the water, and adding to the force of its movement. The gun fire could not pass through to Shane without touching a droplet of rain, and thus each one was cast aside, to be rendered as useless as the empty shells they came from. His motions coincided with the nearby lasers, moving just out of reach as they passed him by. He clenched his fists just before a final movement of his arms, and the mud that was projected at the large bot was frozen solid upon meeting with its face. The resulting pillar of ice, slammed into it like a frozen waterfall.

The bot took the full force of the attack and was flung over backward, head and all sensors irreparably ruined. It landed with a huge splash on its back, sending thick gobs of mud flying in all directions. The bot had to really work at getting back up, as it had sunk nearly a foot into the ground. "That worked so much better than I was planning!" Ronin quickly eyed his sudden opportunity, and leaped at the bot, plunging his blade deep into the circuits in it's neck to deliver the fatal blow.

The hedgehog had obviously known to take advantage of the situation as the large bot was shortly taken out of commission. Shane was starting to like this swordmaster. He followed the path of the bullets to a few bots near one of the helicopters, it's blades still rotating and spitting beads of water onto the mud soaked battlefield. His thoughts turned to the mud below the chopper. The leg facing them began to ice over as Shane held an outstretched hand towards it. He bent his hand, fingers down, in a claw shape and pressed downward through the air. The chopper leg responded with a sickly cracking noise and shattered into a few pieces. The remaining bulk of the helicopter came crashing down towards the bots, its blades cleaving into about half of them and narrowly missing the pilot that had previously confronted him.

The pilot screamed bloody murder, as though he'd been chopped in half by the rotating blades. He cut his shriek short when he realized he was still breathing and could feel his legs. He yelled an order as he began moving slowly to the only remaining chopper "I... CONTINUE FIRE!" He slid into the chopper, hoping he wouldn't be noticed, and took hold of the controls. >PLEASE PUT IN PASSCODE TO OVERRIDE AUTOMATED PILOTING< "WHAT?? OH for..." The chopper that was left was the bot controlled one. "Just-- retreat!! GO! Leave the bots here! TAKE OFF!" The chopper lifted off the ground, leaving 4 E-pvT's still fighting a clearly losing battle.

 

[Clutch 45]

Rage wandered aimlessly around the camp as though he had nothing to do, searching like a man possessed, with as much focus as he was capable of mustering, a single thought on his mind, until it was replaced by four or five others, only to return and be singular again.

"Where IS it coming from?? I have to find it!"

It's GOTTA be around here somewhere... or there...

Or maybe it's ALL in your head!

I don't HAVE a head.

Doncha wish ya had a HEAD like me...

Yeah, cept you DON'T have a--

"Sir?" The soldier had taken him somewhat by surprise, despite the fact that there were a couple hundred of them there with him in the camp. "Find what, Sir?"

"HUH!?" In an instant, the constant buzz of chatter that usually blotted out the higher functions of his brain converged onto one idea.
KILL IT DON'T LET IT KILL YOU WIPE IT FROM EXISTANCE REMOVE IT FILL IT FULL OF HOLES FILL IT UP BY EMPTYING IT OUT SEND ITS INNARDS OUTWARDS SPRAY WHAT'S LEFT OF IT ACROSS ITS OWN LAWN SAVE YOURSELF DELETE IT...

He turned sharply and faced his "assailant", the rifle that he'd confiscated earlier aimed and knife brandished. His heart had sped up until it felt as though it would pump his veins so full they'd all burst, bit he'd stopped his breathing, so the blood was empty, it lacked any oxygen. The soldier, a First Lieutenant according to his shoulder, leaped back, hands held forward in a placating gesture.

"SIR, WAIT!" He was clearly shocked, though not by Rage's reaction, he'd been in this squad long enough to expect it. He was mostly just worried that his General wouldn't realize the misunderstanding quickly enough.
Rage's finger twitched a bit on the trigger, his eyes quivering ever so slightly from side to side. Finally, releasing his breath, he lowered the gun. To the great disappointment of the chanting in his head. As he began to come back down, the voices once again separated themselves from one another, feeling unsatisfied and betrayed.

Why didn't you listen?!

He NEVER listens! You don't know what's GOOD for you!

Why are you still HERE? Why are you NOT DEAD?! HUH?!

Cuz you listened!! You listened to ME!

NO, it was ME!

He listened to US! But NOOO! Now, he just STANDS there and LETS it live!

What WAS it, anyway!? WHY is it not a red and tan PUDDLE?!

That'll be enough of THAT. Rage took a deep breath and tried to straighten himself up. He could still hear loud clanging metal, and was still very intent on finding it. But this 1LT would have to be dealt with first.
"One el tee... ATTENTION!"

Should he be spelling out the letters like that? I thought it was 1LT...

JUST KILL IT

Is that really his name?

DIE

Sure it should be spelled that way! It's PERFECT!

He sprang to attention, though a look of confusion finally found its way to his face."One L... T, Sir?"

"NO! One EL TEE! Can't you LISTEN!?"

Resigned, he simply replied "Yes, sorry Sir."

"Flippin flapjacks... WHAT was so important that you needed to creep up behind me and scare me like that!?"

"Sir... I was in front of you, only just a little to the left... Anyway, Sir, I was just wondering what you were looking for and wondering if I could lead you in the right direction."

SEE?? HE DESERVES TO DIE!!

KILL IT REMOVE ITS CARCASS FROM THIS PLANE OF EXISTANCE

Rip out his SPINE! From the FRONT! With you HAN-- wait... what?

"YOU'LL-- I'LL-- grr...." He took a step forward, hands shaking, then suddenly stopped, full realization dawning. "OH! Ok! Yeah! Kewl!" He began walking off with a sort of dreamlike look on his face, leaving the First Lieutenant--

One El Tee! Get it RIGHT!

Sigh... the First--

ONE EL TEE!

Stop it. The 1LT. Which means First Leu--

ONE FFRIGGIN EL TEE!

UGH. He left him standing there with a look on his face that resembled a mix of open wonder and utter horror. He was torn; he was ALMOST sure Gen Rage was going to assume he was leading him, but he wasn't certain that getting in front of him was wise. Nor was pointing, in his mind. He still didn't even know what Rage was looking for. He was a bit afraid to speak up for a second time, especially while Rage was facing the opposite direction. Finally, he made a decicion. He spoke up, though somewhat meekly. "Um, Sir? What WAS it you were looking for, Sir?"

KILL IT EAT ITS DIGESTIVE TRACK CUT OFF ITS ARM--

AUGH! Eat its WHAT?!

Rage simply turned around this time, rolling his eyes as he did. "What do you MEAN? How can you not HEAR it?? That sound... it's making my everything excited!"

"THAT I had noticed..."

"You've GOT to tell me where that succulent sound is COMING from!! WHO'S SMASHING THAT PIECE OF METAL!? I want to do that TOO!"

"Oh, that? Oh, I know what you're talking about! That's just some of the bots trying to fix a new prototype. Some useless little robot that's only good for one thing. I guess it's supposed to be like a sort of radio, but it only plays one thing: orders.

"Oh, I could use that! Maybe all these slackers could do what I say for a change, and not have any excuses anymore!"

The 1LT stopped for a second, a bit miffed at the clueless blow to him and his squad mates. Glaring slightly, he added knowingly "It plays the trumpet call for the troops to wake up every morning automatically, too."

"WHAT?!" Rage was beginning to like this little noise maker less and less. Now he HAD to find it. "Where is it?? Take me there!"
The 1LT--

One El Tee! Good GRIEF, you just can't spell, can you?!

Would you cut it OUT? He stifled the urge to cross his arms and sigh, knowing that he'd struck the right nerve. "Yes, Sir. Over here, Sir." He began walking back toward Rage's tent, which was right across from where the bots were huddled together, still arguing amongst themselves silently via direct line to each other's heads. "Right over there, Sir." Rage approached them and immediately began yelling at them.
"HEY! You two blocks of wood! Stop what you're doing and stand at attention!"
The two bots shot upright as though they'd just been jolted by an electric shock, replying in unison with a metallic >SIR, YES SIR.< When the did, Rage could more clearly see what they were pounding. Truly a small bot, it had no armor to speak of and was made of thin aluminum. Everywhere the bots had hit it, there was a very distinct dent; this bot was very soft by comparison. The one-- er, 1LT was livid.
"What on MOBIUS are you doing to this thing?? You've destroyed it! Do you have any idea--"
Rage put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks. All thoughts left him other than a dark and hopeless curiosity at what rage was about to do with his arm.
Push him aside, as it turned out. Rage stepped forward, regarding the disheveled prototype message carrier bot with a macabre fascination.
"It's so... beaten and bruised..."

>SIR. THIS UNIT HAS RETURNED IT TO A FUNCTIONING STATE. HOWEVER--<
>THIS UNIT WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THAT WITHOUT THIS UNIT'S INPUT, THAT UNIT WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO--<
>WHILE THIS UNIT APPRECIATES THE INPUT, IT WAS HIGHLY UNECESARRY AND ONLY SLIGHTLY VALID--<
>IT SHOULD BE POINTED OUT THAT THOUGH THE PROTOTYPE FUNCTIONS, IT IS STILL INCAPABLE OF CARRYING OUT ITS SECONDARY FUNCTION--<
"SHUT IT! As long as it... wait, what's it's secondary function?"
>THE PRTOTYPE WAS CREATED FOR THREE USES, SIR. #1: RELAYING ORDERS GIVEN TO THOSE OTHERWISE OUT OF EARSHOT #2 TRUMPET CALL IN MORNINGS #3 QUICKER RELAY OF INTRANET REQUESTS AND ACCEPTANCE/REFUSAL OF THOSE REQUESTS.<
"GIVE IT TO ME THIS INSTANT! YOU! PROTO-THINGY! STAND UP AND COME WITH ME!!"
The tiny mangled bot got to its feet and hobbled over to the Gen, looking up at him with its heavily pockmarked head. Rage smiled widely at his new toy.
"Good!"
He walked triumphantly back to his tent, and the little wretch of a bot followed. He stopped at the tent flap and turned to the bots again. "Go make each other into real boys, blocks of wood." He shooed them away with his hand and ushered the little mess into his tent. The One El Tee sighed and sent the bots back to their usual stations, sending a quick disapproving glance at Rage's tent before shaking his head returning to his own post. He could not WAIT for that transfer to go through.