[Jack Dawson Jr.]

●●●

Scorpion sting, I don't wanna

bleed

tell me that I'm not

lost

Somehow, by the grace of whatever gods resided above, Jack was still conscious, and still on his feet.

He'd been woken as soon as the band of scared villagers and underqualified students was ready to move out, and he did his best to take point near some of the most vulnerable. He was moving on pure willpower, at this point, though- it was cold, he was beaten down, and worn out, and he could hardly keep himself upright. But he had his shield, and he had the drive to protect these people, so he did.

He wasn't quite tough enough for the Lancers, but he managed to fend off a few Ravagers, though it was clear that he wasn't nearly fast enough to stop the bloodshed when more than a few charged in at once. Nasrin and Colton were handling things much better than he was, being much more experienced in combat, and a lot less tired.

They forged on.

As they reached the road where the safehouse was, a look to the side opposite it showed Kishka, Argent, and what appeared to be a severely wounded Carmim coming towards them, from far off. It didn't look good.

And then he heard the gunshots ring out.

Turned to see the airship opening fire on the Safehouse. His eyes widened with alarm- his first thought was that bandits must have taken control of the ship, but then he remembered hearing Shadecloak's voice, mere moments earlier. No. It was definitely her. And intentional. Sure, it cleared a path through the Grimm, but...

He remembered Doc's speech to him about having to make tough decisions in the heat of the moment.

Was that what he was seeing? Or a grotesque perversion of those principles? His stomach churned, at the thought of firing blindly into a building full of scared, defenseless, civilians.

What exactly made Shadecloak any different from Qiu'li, in that moment...? He wasn't sure. Now wasn't the time for philosophy and ethics. If they didn't make it to the ship, before the Grimm got to them, they would all die anyways. But then... She'd said there were ninety spots left...

There were more than ninety people that needed to be saved. He was sure of it. Where was the second airship? Van Sange's? It was supposed to be there, too...

Colton pulled him from his thoughts of "what if," and "why," with concrete orders and a plan of action. That was what he needed right then, so the avian faunus appreciate it greatly. Passing by the safehouse. Carry the wounded. Jack reached out to support a man beside him, who seemed to be struggling. It was almost funny to note the way the grizzled old man started to flinch at the touch of the faunus, before silently accepting the aid. No doubt, he was a Faunus War vet, and in another place, may very well have rebuked Jack's touch, as if he were a black-winged devil. And yet, here in Rochdale, where it was live or die, race was hardly the first issue on anyone's list of priorities.

And then people started sprinting towards the airship. Jack wanted to reach out and grab them, pull them back to safety, with the rest of the group, but now, with this older man in tow, he couldn't exactly do that. So he was forced to let them go.

Up ahead, it was chaos.

The people within the Safehouse were mobbing after the airship like their lives depended on it. Not a figure of speech, either. It looked like a massive brawl at first, from where he stood, but when the gunshots rang out, his eyes were saucers, and his already-pale skin, ghost white.

They were... Killing each other.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Well no shit, Sherlock, it wasn't supposed to happen, but- this wasn't- no, after everything they'd done, they-

He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he knew this wasn't right. This was wrong.

And now they were opening fire on the airship... Jack looked to Colton, but found his eyes facing forward, focused on the scene in front of them. All he could do now was move forward.

He felt through his pocket with his freehand as they marched forward, feeling for his single remaining Dust Crystal.

Fire Dust.

He'd been saving it for Holly's signal fire, but it seemed she was just fine without his help. And even if she wasn't, the ship was right there.

It was a sobering thought.

But if the villagers attacked their group... He didn't think he would have the stomach to use it. But someone might need to. They didn't have many options. He thought for a moment to toss it to Colton, but when he went to open his mouth to address him, he felt a sharp shove from the side- the old man he'd been helping had thrown him to the ground, while he was distracted thinking. And then he, too, broke from the group, charging forward in a mad rush for the ship. Jack grunted as he hit the cold ground, and took a moment to pull himself to his feet, jogging forward to keep his place in the small herd of people, staring after the wounded man in his frenzy.

Part of him wanted to charge forward too. He was exhausted, but he was pretty quick, and he could fly. Not high enough to reach the ship, but enough to clear the crowd.

But he didn't. Couldn't. He had a responsibility, if not to his classmates, then to the people he'd sworn to protect. To save.

Selfishness wasn't allowed.

And wasn't smart, either- the old man he'd lifted up, seeing that he was wounded, charged at the masses. He didn't make it far. A stray bullet fired from the crowd cut him down, mid-stride. Bullet to the head. A life case closed.

All he could do was hope that they didn't bring down the airship before they got there...

Health: 90% ● @wowrood ● WC: 1003 ● TWC: 6008 ● hahaha let's all not die, ok?

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

[Nasrin Golbahar]

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Nasrin Golbahar

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Somehow despite all that had happened it seemed that even more could still go wrong. They had gotten so far with their little group of survivors, they'd kept them under control and guided them to what they had assumed would be safety despite all the shit in their way. And yet, when they started to approach, chaos broke out. Nasrin could tell a brawl from a mile away, but you didn't need to have intimate experience with riots to understand that what was happening to the group of survivors under the ship was a fucking disaster. People were shooting each other, pushing down the old and young to try and get just an inch closer to the safety that the airship signified to them.[break]
Nasrin had seen this all before. It wasn't something that didn't happen even when protests went belly up. People tried to get to safety, that's just how people worked. Survival was a strong motivator to do things that one would otherwise never consider. Like shooting your neighbors and friends. [Break][break]

Much of the group Nasrin had been helping to escort had either broken off and run into the mob or was being escorted by Colton and Jack to the safehouse. They would be fine. They were close enough now to not need Nasrin's help and the shit show happening beneath the airship absolutely did, so her decision was made for her. [Break]
Nasrin rushed off as fast as her exhausted body could carry her. There wasn't time to walk and get some much needed rest in, she had to keep pushing until she was on the airship and safety. Thankfully, of all the people here Nasrin was likely the student most familiar with riots, having participated in a whole bunch of them before coming to Haven. Usually groups would form without those in them even noticing. Different sections of the mob would push against each other in a mass and there was usually very little in-fighting within each of the groups. This was a bit more chaotic given the life or death nature of the beast than Nasrin was used to, but she had a shield and began to push her way through one of the groups towards the center of the mob. [Break][break]

Her goal was simple. Get to the middle, find something to stand on, and then try and yell some sense into the surrounding people. The first part was the hardest, pushing deep into a roiling mass of bodies was next to impossible and she likely would have been stuck on the outside if it weren't for her shield being used as a battering ram. She could push people aside when they weren't paying attention and eventually after doing so enough times would push her way through the mob and to the middle.[break]
Once there, she simply found a stack of corpses that had been shot and trampled quite conpletely. She would think about the death later, for now they were serving a good final purpose of getting her above the mob as a whole. And from there she started to yell, praying that she would be convincing enough to stop the majority of the mob or at least lessen the danger enough for Shadecloak to land. [Break][break]

”Listen up all you fuckers! Im a fucking pro at screaming so I know you can all hear me. Stop this shit, stop fighting, of this keeps up none of us are going to get out of here cause the ship won't land and the Grimm will swarm us. You aren't saving yourselves this way you're just killing everyone here.” Nasrin had to pause briefly to kick some asshole in the face that had tried to climb up to her and shut her up. She had the high ground though, and these people were mostly just as exhausted as she was. [Break]
”You saw her shoot the safehouse. You think she won't do that shit to us too if we keep attracting Grimm like this? Anyone with sense enough to listen to me get the fuck out of this mob. go stand over by the safehouse on the beach and try and keep each other safe if the Grimm come. You assholes with guns make the outer ring. The people still under the ship will get their asses shot to shit by the thing that's supposed to save them, yeah, so fucking listen to me and get moving. Then the ship will land and we'll fit as many people on it as we fucking can yeah? More chance of survival that way than the zero percent chance if you keep fighting." [break][Break]

With that, Nasrin took a leap off the pile of bodies and into the mob, beginning the lengthy and further exhausting process of pushing her way out of the group and doing what she encouraged them to do -, head to the beach safehouse and wait. Once she got out of the mob she moved a lot slower as exhaustion caught up to her, and she began to stumbling wall back to where Holly and Colton were.

Aura: 0% [break][break]

Semblance E, Rascal Light F, Agility F, Durability D, Melee Accuracy E, Speed F, Graffiti F, Mechanics F [break][break]

Word Count: 830/4964[break][break]

[attr="class","aofCredit"]SELKIE

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[Colton Deraine]

[googlefont=Open+Sans]

[attr="class","firstfriend"]

Bravery is believing in yourself, and that's one thing nobody can teach you.

Looking forward, there was chaos.

A swarm of people pushing, shoving, shooting, slashing, and stabbing. There must have been a dozen deaths within the first few seconds as people turned feral at the prospect of having their last chance at freedom stripped away from them at the last moment. For the first time in a while, though, Colton didn’t know what to do. The only outcome he could see happening, frankly, was the airship being forced to turn its guns over in their direction to get the fighting to stop.

Why the fuck wasn’t Van Sange there? Just how fucking long did a vacation in Vacuo take, holy fuck? The one time where he could’ve shown up on time and been cheered and celebrated for it – and he couldn’t even make it. Holy fuck, what a useless waste of space. This wasn’t fair to them. This wasn’t fair to him. This wasn’t fair to Holly. This wasn’t fair to fucking anyone. This wasn’t fair to Shadecloak, either, because she was forced to make the decisions that ensured the trainees lived. Fuck Van Sange for forcing everyone to do this, just as much as Qiu’li did. How fucking hard is it to remember to take a scheduled flight to Haven, holy shit.

A solution that would get the trainees out, sure… but also defeat the purpose of them coming here. But it was the decision that would have to be done, frankly, unless the situation changed. Colton had no aura and didn’t have his proper weapon. He didn’t have an ability to make a dent in this crowd, even if he wanted to. He had enough energy for a fight, sure, but had no way of making an effective dent as just himself. Fuck. Jack’s sword was sheathed in his scabbard at this point, and it even mostly fit.

While he was debating what to do, Nasrin charged on in. Colton instinctively reacted to cover as best he could, which meant joining in on the shoving match in the short term to help clear the way. Unfortunately for him, though, the guy he shoved back was pissed and also armed. He was able to dance back to avoid the knife swing, but the real issue was his buddy with the rifle right beside him. Charging forward to the knife fighter, the Argus native managed to grab and turn the knife wielder into the path of the guy with a rifle. The goal was to get the rifle guy to not shoot when he saw his friend was in the way… but Colton was a bit slower than usual and in practice just managed to turn the knife wielder towards the rifle guy a split second before the shot fired.

It was one of the rifles that the brunette had worked on, so it did its work and opened the chest of knife guy pretty easily. The villager with the rifle was livid at this point, and continued shooting. This was at the edge of the crowd, and Colton just used the injured knife wielder as a human shield as he closed the gap. Once he got into melee, he drew Jack’s sword and cut the right arm of the rifle wielder clean off at the shoulder. He kicked forward to knock the guy down afterwards, preparing to move on but…

Then a shot from behind him fired, right into his right calf. Someone else had circled behind him and shot at point blank range, likely aiming for something else but being a fucking terrible shot. The bullet caused blood to spurt from the wound, yes, but it also caused him to be forced to kneel in the snow. Years of practice at sword throwing paid off, as the instinctive reaction toss got lucky and caught the new aggressor in the throat and prevented further damage.

This was when Nasrin was making her speech, and Colton resigned himself to trying to limp back away from the crowd – which could and would trample him if given half an opportunity. He hadn’t broken through the fucking edges and still almost got killed, so he was in no rush whatsoever to try and push forward again anytime soon. It was dark as fuck, and also cold. The lights from the airship was the only reason he could even see right now, and he was thankful for that.

The guns started up again, over his head, and Colton looked back towards the rubble of the mountain gigas and saw dark figures rapidly getting bigger. A pre-emptive attack on the Grimm was all well and good, but the airship had to land quickly or they were going to get overrun. What he saw to his left – the direction where Kishka and Argent were coming from, however, was enough for him to surge forward to Jack and take his scroll.

”Shadecloak, Grimm at stern. I’ve never seen those before.” he barked out after unmuting the damned thing. ”You’re going to have to start descent NOW. Lots of people are dead as fuck regardless of what we do at this point, but we need to at least save some of them.”

Colton wasn’t a faunus, so he couldn’t see exactly what the fuck the Grimm were in that direction until a light from the airship floated over in that direction – only the green glow of crystals attached to something big. They looked like Alpha Beowolves, but bigger even still. Hunched over from the weight of the enormous green … crystal spikes erupting from their backs, they moved pretty slowly. Noticeably larger and wider than an Alpha… and after the first salvo of machine gun fire did absolutely jack shit to slow them down it seemed like tougher as well.

They were chasing after the trio of returning trainees but started far enough behind them and were slow enough to where as long as Argent and Kishka kept moving they were in no danger of getting caught up with. Neither of them was capable in their current state of even denting the hide of these creatures, though. It was only after the first salvo of machine gun fire had no effect did the airship start to descend, as the real timer for getting out of there truly started in that moment.

The second salvo of machine gun fire didn’t even stagger the fucking things, either. Holy fuck.

From the speakers of the airship, Shadecloak broadcast a message that rang throughout the beach. ”Airship descending. With the authority of the Mistral Council, any who fire upon the ship will be summarily executed. Rioters will be shot on sight.”

The guns stopped firing, then, as the airship started its descent. Nasrin had convinced some to stop crowding the landing area, but others were still duking it out on the fringes. Fucking hell. He was on the fringes at the moment and wouldn’t be able to make it to the landing strip in time, and the fighting near the front of it was only intensifying as people were fighting for spots. There was a round of shouted swearing at the message, and some even had the audacity to fire upwards at the airship again.

Well, only once. Arrows came and went through their entire bodies almost supernaturally fast after they fired upwards, which meant that Shadecloak was now aiming downwards rather than forwards. After the second person who tried, nobody else did. Nobody wanted to die, after all.

※ 11184 total words ✎ 1245 words ✉ C rank semblance, C rank martial arts, C rank durability, C rank weapon, D rank weapon enhancement, D rank agility, E rank stamina

MADE BY MIZO

[Wolfe]

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[attr="class","nikki101"]ONWARD TO VICTORY

[break]

[attr="class","nikki102"]ONWARD TO DEATH

[break]

[attr="class","nikki109"]January 4th, 26AV. [break][break]

0403hrs. [break][break]

And here it was. [break][break]

The final, mad dash towards freedom. [break][break]

The villagers, due to the violence that had erupted, had thinned their own numbers. Roughly two dozen lie dead, and approximately another dozen were injured enough to have their movement impaired. The airship was dropping, but there were still too many people. [break][break]

Frankly, the fact of the matter was that no trainee would actually make it onto the airship unless they forced their way on. If they chose not to ensure that they were on the ship, then they would be left behind due to the crowd being too damned big to really make out individual faces. Having their own hands clean at the end of this was possible, sure, but only as someone left behind to be eaten by whatever mutant Beowolves were closing in as the airship departed. [break][break]

The guns would only be used to prevent the airship from getting damaged and would only be used sparingly. They would not be used enough to actually reduce the number of villagers enough to where all the living ones simply got on board. They were only used to those who resorted to open violence against the ship itself in plain view of the police and Shade. There was a significant chunk in the middle and the back where violence was done out of view of those individuals, and thus would be allowed to happen with no outside interference. [break][break]

The fact of the matter was that Argent, Kishka, and Carmim were going to get near the airship only after it was filled. Whether it was with only villagers or a mixture of villagers and trainees was the choice of the trainees – but under no circumstances would any villager after all that had happened to them willingly resign themselves to die. Everyone was going to fight for it, and so when the airship landed it was a scramble for the entrance with everyone’s lives at stake. [break][break]

Pushing, shoving, and stabbing were all on the menu. Shooting, too, if it could be done in a place completely out of the line of sight of the police so that they didn’t know who did it. The villagers, while exhausted, were also completely and utterly desperate and would fight on with a tenacity and fervor that was expected in theory but hard to deal with in practice. [break][break]

If trainees hesitated for too long, they would be forced to yank people out of the airship to make room for themselves. Kishka, Argent, and Carmim would be forced to do this regardless as the last ones to make it to the ship. They would find a brawl at the edges once the airship was filled with people, with those who had just missed getting on the ship trying to either force their way in regardless or trying to forcibly yank someone else out in order to make room for themselves. [break][break]

It was a disgusting scene, to be sure, but one that was out of the power of any individual trainee to really prevent. The airship that Van Sange was supposed to ride in on had never come, and thus they were left with Qiu’li’s last gift to the people of Anima in its entirety. Rochdale had fallen, and the only question was how many of its people would actually end up surviving the fall. More immediately important, though, was which students would actually find the will to fight their way through and doom some of these villagers in order to ensure their own safety? Survival and an unstained soul were mutually exclusive, in this case, and each one had to pick one or the other.

[break]

[attr="class","nikki103"]608 words

[attr="class","nikki103"]EVENT

[attr="class","nikki103"]13235 TOTAL WORDS

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NOTES

Death Enabled

PHARAOH LEAP CREATES

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[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do.
Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.

But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.
Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

Argent burned.

The flame that ate away at him wasn't as hot as it could have been, but he burned nevertheless. What had been a small amount of building heat had finally crossed the threshold of slight discomfort into a distinct annoyance. He didn't know how other people felt when they worked their bodies this hard for this long, but he was willing to bet that it didn't feel like a fever scorching at his insides each time he was in combat for much longer than a few minutes at a time. It would be hard to fight going forward, and even harder to get everyone back to the ship with the heat trapped inside his body.

But that was how it was, wasn't it? He didn't choose where to go, or how things would turn out. He couldn't choose who would accompany him, nor could he choose what to do with them. He could only make his best effort at what seemed a futile battle, and a disaster of before unseen proportions.

Up and over. Through the slight haze clouding him, Kishka's words came, and it was only due to the amount of training that they'd done together that he managed to make sense of them and pull his legs together so that he could drop into a hunched crouch for her to springboard off of him. The single impact of her foot dug into his back and then was gone, and he watched her sail up and over, striking their last remaining foe before tumbling into the snow. The Sabyr snarled and turned, and in that moment of weakness and distraction, Argent struck.

Forcing strength from screaming muscles, the snake Faunus sprinted forwards, both swords in hand. Putting  all of his weight behind the thrust was a dangerous move, but it paid off - the green and black blades sank deeply into the Sabyr's flank. Aura pulsed grey and silver, and those sunken blades shredded through dissipating black mist with enough force to embed themselves into the ground beneath. Staggering from the effort, Argent sank to a knee and pawed at the scarf surrounding his neck - fresh air flooded his exposed skin now, shocking and cold. His fingers reached out for handfuls of slush and pressed again into his face, burning heat against dreadful chill, and it was this that finally managed to snap his heat fatigued brain back into lucidity.

"Yeah," he said, and to him his voice sounded small and timid, like the squeak of a mouse in a field being hunted by a hawk. Heaving breaths continued to puff small clouds into the cold air, but he was moving now towards Carmim, even if his legs weren't entirely steady, and reaching for the roll of bandages in one of his pockets. It wasn't near anywhere near what someone like Jack or Doctor Haragitanai would have carried, but the silver Aura flowed over the item in his hand, and letting it drop, he made it snake around Carmim's gashes, using what he'd learned from class to put pressure on the wounds and prevent further blood loss.

There was no time to see if he'd done it correctly - now, speed was of the essence, and if all he'd done was secure Carmim for transport so she didn't die while they were getting to the ship, then that was the way it had to be. While he was focusing on getting the bandages where they needed to go, his other hand dug absentmindedly into the pouch by his thigh and pulled out the three vials of Air Dust that had been sitting unused there this whole time. There hadn't been a good time to use them before, as pressed as he was for his capability to deal as much damage as possible to the Grimm hordes at the walls rather than any semblance of speed - but now, in a situation when they were in dire need of time, it seemed to work out.

"Get Carmim," he said, bending over to gently but firmly pry the girl away from the drum she was holding, and strapping it to his back. A few hastily made knots was enough to prevent it from slipping, and as the weight settled on him, the snake Faunus winced slightly. The ropes were digging into his shoulders, but at this point, other than making sure they didn't restrict his motion, there wasn't the time nor the inclination to adjust for comfort. Vials of dust in one hand, Ouroboros sheathed by his hips, Argent held out the other for Kishka to take, waiting until she nodded before he activated the Dust. The world seemed to blur around them as they ran together, but one thing remained constant in his vision - the airship, descending now to the ground with the crowd surrounding it.

Time was running out.

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]

SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (AGILITY) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK E]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)[RANK F]

OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK E]

@ ● 809 words ● 4785 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Nasrin Golbahar]

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Nasrin Golbahar

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Her plan hadn’t worked as well as she wanted. Nasrin had hoped that most of the people would be willing to move off to the side and that when they did the others would start to either disperse or kill each other. It was a grim thought, but it was the only thing that Nasrin had been able to come up with on such short notice. Unfortunately it didn’t work. Most of the villagers were still in a mob around the ship and showed few signs of stopping their violent attempts to force their way onto the ship, at least until Shadecloak killed a few. What was the difference between her and Qiu’li again? That was for people smarter than Nasrin to decide. [Break][Break]

Nasrin switched Rascal back into skateboard mode and hopped on, using it to save herself some of the strain of running as she floated her board over towards a side of the ship that didn’t have quite so many swarming people. Near the back, likely. And as the ship came down to the ground, Nasrin took one final look at Rochdale. She wanted to stay, she wanted to follow her motto, but she also wasn’t an idiot. She couldn’t do anything to the Grimm approaching, and she was too exhausted to really try and hurt or force her way through the mob of villagers again. So she pulled out the gravity dust that she had saved since the beginning of Rochdale for an emergency that never really came, it didn’t have the time to, and she activated it beneath herself to launch her into the air and onto the back of the airship with a thud and no small amount of soon to be bruises. [Break] [Break]

She stayed on the top of the airship unless someone forced her down into the holds. She didn’t want to look at all the people and what they had been reduced to. She did step into the staircase though, hiding beneath the covering from any grimm that might be swooping overhead as she tried to get some, any really, of her breath back.

Aura: 0% [break][break]

Semblance E, Rascal Light F, Agility F, Durability D, Melee Accuracy E, Speed F, Graffiti F, Mechanics F [break][break]

Word Count: 351/5315 [break][break]

[attr="class","aofCredit"]SELKIE

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[Kishka Burzanova]

KISHKA BURZANOVA

She wasn't down for long. Back to her feet in time to see Argent make mincemeat of the Sabyr they were fighting. In theory, it would have been a pretty proud moment. They'd beat it together, as a pair, and frankly, there were not nearly enough moments for them to do that, in the field. It was, after all, their first real mission together, and by all accounts, should have been a good memory for them to share. Instead, it was damned to be overshadowed forever by the hell that was Rochdale. A hollow, empty, victory, because as soon as they had beaten the Sabyr down, it was on to bigger, and worse, threats. A classmate that was bleeding out because she was a stupid idiot who tried getting herself killed, a stupid drum they had to haul along, and an airship that, from a cursory glance, was being mobbed and overrun by villagers. Argent spoke, and his voice was weary and stifled. This wasn't good- overheating. He must have overexerted himself, fighting the Sabyrs. She couldn't exactly say that she hadn't done the same. But the difference was that her body wasn't a trap for the built up heat. She wanted to ask if he was okay, and if there was anything she could do to help, but she knew they didn't have time for that. It would have to wait until they were safe. Argent was treating Carmim quickly, but not quickly enough- Kishka's eyes were fixed up ahead, on the airship. Gunshots, screaming, panic. It wasn't looking good. She keyed into her earpiece, the panic now fully creeping into her voice as she addressed the Huntress aboard the ship. "Shadecloak! I'm with Argent and Carmim, headed to the ship now! Carmim is in critical condition. That crowd is fucking wild, is there anything you can do to clear a path for us? Over." She doubted it. If she could have, she would have by then. Like it or not, they would have to forge their own path. "Argent, we're going to get left behind, we've got to hurry!/ It was stressful. She couldn't help but vent her frustration and panic to the snake faunus, though, even knowing that he was undoubtedly well aware of the issue at hand. Control. It wasn't something she explicitly talked about, about herself, but it was something that just about anyone who knew Kishka would acknowledge as being damn important to her. She had a near-constant need to be in control. And at the moment, she was most definitely not in control of the situation. It was freaking her the fuck out, and she was immediately regretting not taking the rest of her dampers when she'd had the chance. "Get Carmim." Through the haze that was her mind at that moment, Kishka heard Argent's voice call out. Like a rock, steadfast against the roaring tides. He was the only thing that was really capable of calming her down, anchoring her to reality. She nodded. There was still something she could do. She still had a little control over everything. She reached down and carefully lifted the wounded Vacuoan. She was muttering to herself, with what seemed like the last vestiges of her strength, something about Aegle. Much as Kishka wanted to roll her eyes, she couldn't help but think that she would be saying the same things about Argent, if she felt like she was dying. With as much care as she could take, she hoisted Carmim up over her left shoulder, leaving her right hand free to take Argent's. He had three crystals of Wind Dust left, and hopefully that would be enough to rocket the three of them towards the mob. If they were going to have any chance of survival, it lay in getting on the ship before it filled up. Odds weren't looking good, frankly. She took Argent's hand. Gave him a firm nod. "We're getting out of here." She wasn't sure who she was reassuring, at that moment. The dust activated, but not before she heard a rustling from behind them. She didn't dare look back- her eyes were focused forwards. Whatever it was, it was off in the distance, but definitely coming closer. Not good. The fear of whatever unknown creatures were chasing after them couldn't compare to the fear of being left in the shithole ruins of the village they'd tried so hard to save, however. Full steam ahead, the pair, with Clover and her drum in tow, charged towards the crowd of people. As they approached, it was clear exactly how chaotic everything really was. Nasrin just barely managed to throw herself over the horde, onto the Airship. It was a little annoying that she hadn't thought to help get any of her fellow students on as well, before saving herself, but Kishka couldn't exactly blame her. She was about to be in the same predicament, after all. She tried pushing through the charging mass of people at first, with brute force, but she was still weakened from the exertion she'd just undertaken. It was a solid wall of flesh blocking her way, and not a very happy one either. "Let us through!! She's badly wounded!! I am not dying here!" Somewhere in the chaos, a man with a knife lunged out at her, blindsiding her- she could do little more than scream and turn to shield the Aura-less Carmim from the blow, but thankfully Argent was less consumed by panic than her, and more able to intercept the attack, taking the knife and bringing the man to the ground. The villagers didn't like that. They were none too pleased that the students, noticeably stronger and better trained than them, seemed like they were just going to storm through them to the Airship. It was a brawl. As they turned on them, fighting to preserve their spot in line, Kishka had no choice but to unsheathe her weapon. She took care not to attack the villagers that weren't actively lashing out at her, at first, and avoided lethal blows as best as she could, but after the first handful of attacks, she figured they would get nowhere by playing nice; she went from swinging at kneecaps, to swinging at heads and necks, opening and closing her umbrella to force people out of her way, and dodge or block the scattered gunshots. With grit, and a will to live, she forced her way to the front, after bludgeoning more villagers than she could remember. She was, once again, wearing villagers' blood, and this time, it hadn't been Ravagers that had drawn it. Was she any better than Qiu'li? Of fucking course she was. He had been in no danger. No threat to his life. He killed out of wanton disregard for human life. She hadn't stopped to check if she'd killed any of the people she'd clubbed over the head in her brutal path to safety- she didn't have the time, the desire, or the moral qualms at the moment, to care. But she knew that even if she'd killed a dozen, or two dozen, people, it was only to protect her own life, the life of the girl slung over her shoulder, and the life of Argent, who was fighting beside her for their spot on the ship. She looked around. She couldn't see Holly, Jack, or Colton, so she assumed they were already on the ship. Her umbrella lashed out again, almost instinctively, as another desperate villager attempted to shove her over, to make room for themselves. It was eat or be eaten- the steel-meshed weapon hit their skull with a sickening crunch, and the poor bastard crumpled to the ground, as Kishka continued onward, not paying him a second glance. They'd come to Rochdale to save people, and they had accomplished that objective. They hadn't saved everyone, but they were going to save as many as they could. But if that meant leaving Kishka and Argent behind? Then it was unacceptable. The way she saw it, if it hadn't been for the students, nobody would have survived. The fact was, as much as Qiu'li had killed all of these people, there would have been zero survivors without the Airship evacuations that had already happened. That meant that each trainee present was worth at least fifty, if not more, villagers- they owed them their ensured survival, no matter how much it railed against base human survival instincts. She didn't expect any of them to understand that, but it completely justified the violence needed for her to reach the ship, as it lowered towards the ground. Frankly, if she'd killed all of the people she had just struck on her way through the crowd, then it was an act of mercy, knowing that those creatures were approaching from behind. And that was all the more reason to hurry up. At long last, they were at the front of the crowd. It was a swarming mass of people, clamoring and pushing for a spot, but they had made it. "Nasrin!!!" Kishka was loud as fuck, and she knew it- she shouted until Nasrin heard her, and as soon as the pinkette was in sight, or after a few seconds, if she didn't show, Kishka burned through the last third of her Aura, hoisting Carmim up onto the ship. "Take her, she's fucking dying!!" She didn't actually care if Nasrin did take her or not- all that mattered to her was that she'd done her part and gotten Carmim to the ship. If nobody caught her, then Carmim would just be sent crashing into people, likely knocking one or two out as she landed among the masses. Whether she was being taken care of or not wasn't exactly her immediate priority. She turned to Argent, ushering for him to board the ship first- she'd be right behind him of course. Except for the shock of pink she caught, a few feet away, through the pushing and pulling mob. "Holly? Holly!" She gave a weary glance to Argent. "Save two spots. I love you." As she turned, immediately, to fight her back back through the crowd, just a bit, she wondered why she felt the need to add that last bit. That wasn't what a genre-savvy hero said before going back into the writhing pit of danger- that was generally the last thing the hero said to her love interest before she ate a bullet or something. Speaking of bullets, she couldn't really take the time to stop and think about her poor word choices. She muscled her way, tired, beaten, and half-broken, to Holly, catching some lumps and bruises along the way, now that her Aura was shattered. Fuck it was cold... "Holly!!! Take my hand!" She shouted for the smaller girl to grab the hand outstretched towards her, as she began to pull her through the crowd, bashing in the heads, knees, and arms of anyone who tried to stop her. There was less resistance, as people had seen what she had been capable of already, but those who tried anyways were beaten down with the ruthlessness mandated of her by the soon-to-be-fleeing airship. As soon as Holly was in her grasp, she refused to let go, forcing their way back towards the front. She ushered for Holly to climb up first, but seeing as they had been among the last students to make it onto the ship, she wasn't following too far behind. She knew Holly wouldn't do it for herself, so as she climbed, the very last of her strength dimming, she took the bloody end of her umbrella into her hand, and started grasping at people with the hooked end, yanking them off the ship by their legs, and narrowly avoiding them as they fell out beside her. She didn't have time to care if they were okay- it was them, or her. Once enough room was cleared for her and Holly, she climbed up and over the threshold. "Holly, Carmim- she's on here somewhere. She's dying. Can you...?" She didn't finish her sentence, or her thought, as she searched the ship for a familiar face. Having just barely made it onto the packed ship, she would try to find Argent and stay by his side. It had taken a lot out of her. Out of all of them. She was bloodsoaked, freezing, and scraped and bruised all to hell, but dammit, she'd survived. It was a weird feeling, knowing that in getting there, she and Argent had been forced to attack, injure, and very likely kill, so many people, for their spots. That they were leaving many more to die, so that they wouldn't have to. It was selfish. Inherently selfish, choosing to prioritize their own lives over others. Anyone who denied that was a damn fool. Luckily, Kishka wasn't exactly opposed to being selfish, as a general principle- it's a cruel, harsh, world, and it's live or die, eat or be eaten. She'd worn herself ragged, saving as many villagers as she could- all she could hope was that some of those were on the ship. If not, then so be it. All that mattered was that she was safe, Argent was safe, and Holly was safe. But gods, she needed a fucking shower...

Notes// s a f e t y | Tagged// s u r v i v a l | Health// 75% | WC// 2232 | TWC// 9399

✬

[Holly Hock]

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[attr="class","RDcontainer"] [attr="class","RDcontent"] Holly blinked a few times as she looked on straight ahead. [break] [break] She could look over the crowd of people. She could feel wood under her feet, and cold air on her face. The wind. She was high up. She was grasping the railing of the ship. The ship. She was on the airship.[break] [break] "Holly, Carmim- she's on here somewhere. She's dying. Can you...?"[break] [break] Dying? How, why? What is-[break] [break] Images of earlier scenes flashed through her mind.[break] [break] She saw many arms and hands. They were pushing and pulling her around, and grasping her hair. She could only see bodies in front of her, and behind her. She had ran towards the crowd at some point, not really certain at what point. She had heard screaming, shots being fired. Something about Grimm? Holly had wanted to get on the airship, needed to get on the airship. Needed to get out of Rochdale. Wanting to get home. Back to Mato-Mato. Back to her mother’s arms that held her tight.[break] [break] The only arms she got were pushing and pulling and shoving and grasping. [break] [break] Holly didn’t believe that she would get through the sea of people at one point. She remembered that. [break] [break] She had her weapon in her hand.[break] [break] She considered it. Holly remembered considering it.[break] [break] Just cut through them.[break] [break] Just slice through them.[break] [break] You matter more than them.[break] [break] You are Holly Hock. You are worth it.[break] [break] It was tempted to listen to that voice. So very tempting that Holly had almost listened to it. Acted on that impulse. There were two things that stopped Holly from doing it though. [break] [break] Two reasons that were not really her own.[break] [break] The first was a second voice that stayed her hand. Screaming at her the moment she wanted to activate her weapon. Her finger already on the trigger. It wasn’t her own voice though. Her own voice said do it.[break] [break] “KILL ME!”[break] [break] The woman. Her voice. Blood. Screaming. Pain. She had wanted it. She had asked for it. Holly did as she was asked. Gave her the release. She had asked for death. She had begged for it in a way that none of these people, all wanting to rush towards their own safety didn’t. They wanted to live, Holly wanted to live, everything wanted to live. [break] [break] Even now that her life seemed to depend on it, her finger left the trigger.[break] [break] Fight or flight, right? She could run, couldn’t she? [break] [break] Run away? She could evade the Grimm, right? Hide? Try to smile and not be sad? [break] [break] "Holly!!! Take my hand!"[break] [break] A voice… whose voice?[break] [break] Kishka.[break] [break] Holly remembered Kishka walking towards her. Fighting to get to her. Doing everything that Holly had failed to do. Risking everything to get her away. To get her safe. Holly didn’t hesitate. She took the hand that was stretched towards her, and didn’t let go. What had she done? She had followed Kishka, letting her do everything that Holly wasn’t strong enough to do. She let her pave a way.[break] [break] She let her hurt others.[break] [break] She let her…kill others?[break] [break] What did Holly say when all of that happened around her? Done to help her on the airship?[break] [break] “Thank you.”[break] [break] She knew she said it multiple times. No idea if Kishka had even heard her saying the words. What was she thanking Kishka for? Maybe everything.[break] [break] Thank you for coming back to me.[break] [break] Thank you for caring for me in the first place.[break] [break] Thank you for hurting those people for me.[break] [break] Thank you for maiming others in my name.[break] [break] The blood suits you so well…[break] [break] That was how it happened, wasn’t it?[break] [break] Kishka.[break] [break] Was it not for Kishka, Holly would be left behind. She would be… she would be…[break] [break] Death.[break] [break] Death.[break] [break] Carmim! [break] [break] Holly returned out from her own head. Carmim was injured. Very much so, wasn’t she? The Pinkette recovered enough at the moment to try and find Carmim. Try to find her friend. A friend had just saved Holly. If Holly could safe a friend of her own, then she had to try! Had to stay with her, no matter how long it took! She wasn’t going to lose a friend. No, she couldn’t. Holly was apparently nowhere without them.[break] [break] [break] [break]

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[attr="class","RDwortag"] Words: 699, Thread Total: 12967	[attr="class","RDwortag"] Aura: 21%
[attr="class","RDnotes"] Semblance: E, Slicer: F, Survival: F, Gardening: F, Scroll-usage: F, Martial Arts: F, Healing: E, Acrobatics: F, Stamina: F

[attr="class","trinCredits"]TABLE BY TRINITY @ ADOXOGRAPHY

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[Jack Dawson Jr.]

●●●

Scorpion sting, I don't wanna

bleed

tell me that I'm not

lost

Jack scrambled back to his feet just as Nasrin charged forward.

He wasn't sure what she was doing, at first- for a split second, he figured she was ditching them to escape, herself, but he realized it was far more likely that she was trying to calm the masses. More to the point, as she raced in, so did Colton, and Jack ran behind him as best as he could, intent on backing up his peers. He wanted to save the villagers too, but Colton and Nasrin came first- they were exhausted, and Aura-less for the moment, but with time to rest on the ship, they would regain their strength, which may be needed later if the ship came under attack. It wasn't a choice he was comfortable making, but he knew he had to prioritize their safety, for the greater good. Off in the distance, he could see Holly trying to calm the crowds, and failing that, trying to squeeze her way through, to little effect, And behind him, the remaining three trainees were running at breakneck speeds, but still far, far, off in the distance at that point.

He focused on Colton. He may not be able to do anything for the others, but focusing on one person was enough for him, at that moment. He could do that much.

It happened way too fast, though.

Colton shoved, and the guy grabbed a knife, and then a rifleman, whose arm Colton severed, and then-

"C-colton, look out!" The words had scarcely left his mouth before the bullet was fired, and he wasn't nearly fast enough in his state to intercept it. At least it wasn't a lethal wound- it seemed to hit his leg. Jack rushed in, using his shield to shove past people as quickly as he could, as Colton flung his falchion into the throat of the man who'd shot him. Jack was quick to retrieve the sword, then knelt down by Colton, bandages already in his hand as he approached. There was no time to dress the wound properly, but he wiped it clean as quickly as he could, and bound it with the bandages, to prevent further blood loss, and to hopefully make it easier for Colton to walk on. As Colton stood and limped off, Jack followed, close behind, after offering the Argus native his sword once more. That still left him his buckler, which he raised to shield the two of them from any further attacks.

This was out of hand. It was terrifying, and every part of him screamed to leave. He couldn't, though. Not until at least Colton was safe. What kind of a person would he be, if he left an ally, a teammate, a friend, to limp through this violent, agitated, mob alone? What little support he could provide, he was going to provide it.

Colton turned to take his Scroll, which he gave up immediately, to Jack's confusion, as the faunus attempted to think of a way past the swarming blob of people. At first, he wasn't sure why Colton needed it so suddenly, but as he looked in the direction the brunette spoke into the device, his eyes widened with alarm.

Unlike Colton, Jack was a faunus.

And he could see the Grimm he was looking at clearly, with a slowly dawning expression of horror and renewed urgency. They looked like Alpha Beowolves, but... Infused with some sort of green crystals. They were huge. And moving closer, slowly, undaunted by the machine gun fire.

They had to move. And fast. "Colton, can you w-walk alright? We've got to c-clear a path to the ship." At the first sign of affirmation, Jack resolved to help Colton push to the front, in any way he could. Despite fearing the worst, he spread his wings, but not to fly- instead, he extended them outwards, shielding himself and Colton off from the mob of villagers. If they tried shooting at the two of them, they'd either hit Jack in the back, which he couldn't avoid anyways, or they'd be shooting blindly through his wings. Also not ideal, but it was better than them aiming properly at Colton- luckily, nobody tried to shoot him in the back, though he imagined that was largely because those with guns had already pushed themselves to the front.

That didn't mean he wasn't attacked, though. His wings took a few slashes and stabs from villagers trying to break through and force them back, but he grit his teeth and bared the pain. He did his best, swatting with his wings, and with his shield, but he left the bulk of the actual brute-forcing up to Colton- he didn't have half the strength Colton had, nor the commanding presence to use it, even with Colton's leg being wounded.

Finally, at long last, the two worked their way through somehow, suffering a few minor injuries, but nothing life threatening. They'd made it fast enough that the ship hadn't completely filled up yet, and Jack glanced up as Nasrin sailed overhead with her Gravity Dust. Good. He was glad she'd made it.

He couldn't see Holly anymore, partly because she was so small, but he hoped she was on the Airship. He was running low on strength, though, so he didn't feel at all capable of going back for her if she wasn't. As Colton climbed his way up onto the Airship, Jack braced himself, then gave a great beat of his wings, rising up high enough to reach out and grab the ledge, to pull himself on.

It was cramped, and tight.

Little room to move around, but knowing it would only get tighter and more cramped, the avian faunus immediately set about searching for any wounded or injured villagers aboard the airship.

He could do nothing about the ones on the ground. But if he could save just one of the injured people on the ship, he could make it through the next day with at least a shred of peace of mind.

Just one patient at a time...

Health: 60% ● @madeit ● WC: 1017 ● TWC: 7025 ● "yay, we did it colt"

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

[Carmim Clover]

❝ Health: 8% WORDS: 252 | TWC: 10,551 Blurry vision. Everything was black. She only caught snippets of the events transpiring beyond her reach, out of her control. Screams of the damned. The scent of fresh spilled blood. A shrill, anxious voice. She felt every bump in the road, as she traveled, across Kishka's shoulder, from one end of the street to the other. She wasn't conscious for much of it, thankfully. Only passively aware of what was happening to her numb, cold, bloody, body. A heavy thud. She felt it, and a great deal of pain, sharp and acute enough to wake her, momentarily. Red eyes, frosted over by a glaze of snow, and a splatter of blood, opened uneasily, and her vision, though shaky, fixed on a point in the distance. A point far off, near the rubble of the Petra Gigas. A hand. Sticking out, prying itself free. Further off, in another section of the rubble, horrifying monsters. Grimm, but unnatural. She wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not. Nothing seemed or felt real. "Qiu'li...?" She stared at what she thought was a hand, now trapped in darkness once more, as the Airship's spotlights passed it by. Somehow, she knew it was him. Somehow she knew that he had survived... She was angry. She was relieved. She was confused. Still angry. She heard Holly's voice, felt hands rolling her onto her back. "Qiu'li... T'e rubble..." She barely managed to croak out the words, mumbled and dreamlike, before the great darkness of unconsciousness took her once again.

LAIKA OF GS!

[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do.
Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.

But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.
Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

"We're getting out of here."

He looked at her then, in the moments before the Dust started to take them forward, and his lips parted slightly - but no words came out, despite his desire to say something, anything. There was nothing left to say, nothing that came to mind in that moment that seemed appropriate. Instead, he thought back, to a time that seemed so far away from now that it might as well have been another life.

That night in the woods they'd shared so long ago while they were attempting their midterms had had her face lit by moon and fire light. It was a memory that Argent deeply treasured, something that he held on to ever more dearly as time had passed and things had gotten steadily worse. Kishka's temper flaring at the most inopportune times, bringing her nothing but pain and suffering, leading her into fights that left her either physically or emotionally wounded. Wounds that he did his best to tend to - but his efforts were never enough to keep her from lashing out again.

He'd never seen that beatific, unguarded happiness on her face again. There was warmth when she smiled at him, of course - softness in her eyes in face that she never showed to anyone else - but never again like that night they'd spent together beneath the stars. And more often than not, she'd been angry or irritated at how things had gone for her, or wearing the smile that he could never quite bring himself to like - the smile she wore as shield and sword alike, to keep herself divorced from the verbal barbs she took in her arguments and taunting her opponents with how little it meant to her. It was not a smile he enjoyed seeing, but it was one he saw often, and he didn't like that he was the only one who ever saw the other smile she had.

And yet, looking at her now, he would take even that smile over the look on her face.

Panic. Fear. Worry, anxiety, and frustration, all mingled together like a roiling pot of bones being boiled for broth on the kitchen stove. There were books aplenty that spoke of how strong female warriors looked even more beautiful on the battlefield, tearing apart Grimm or their enemies - of how the violence of their surroundings juxtaposed against their beauty made it shine even more. But in the here and now, looking at her face drawn taut with strain and worry, all he found himself thinking was that it was not a look he wanted to see there.

Then they were off, moving at speed in tandem. Flashes of the village blurred past them, little snippets of broken bodies and shattered barricades, of the ruins of houses and their inhabitants scattered about the area unmoving. It was like a scene out of a horror movie, except that the only movies he'd ever seen were from the safety and comfort of a chair with a drink in the cup holder and the warmth of his jacket around him. Movies didn't show you the grim reality of how things were - the stench of the dead, the slippery slush beneath your feet stained dark brown from the trampling of feet and the blood of the fallen, the bone numbing cold that sank deep into your flesh and sapped your strength. Shin had taken care to shield him from the worst of the horrors that came with being a Huntsman, but Shin wasn't here. The streets of Rochdale were a yawning abyss and constant reminder of his failure, of his inability to save the people that now lay where they had fallen. Into that abyss the snake Faunus was forced to stare, and though he neither blinked nor turned away, it still ate at him like a cancer, a spreading hollowness in the pit of his stomach that somehow managed to feel different from the cold without.

The edges of the crowd were a mess of screaming and shouting bodies. The snake Faunus was still searching for a way in when Kishka shouted and tried to push her way through, still holding the wounded Carmim in her arms.

The barest glimpse of a gleam of silver in the mass of flesh was barely enough warning for him, but it was enough - hundreds upon thousands of hours practicing and training for moments like these had given him experience and muscle memory. While he might have been one of the physically weakest of those at Haven, with only his speed and agility as assets to speak of, it was still more than enough to snake one arm around the thrust and twist upwards, eliciting a yell of pain from the man as the knife dropped from senseless fingers, to be caught in his own.

It was but a second in time, but it seemed to stretch out for far longer, like a rubber band being pulled and stretched to its breaking point. Argent looked at the man before him, saw his unkempt hair and stubble and wild eyes, and his mind went back to a time before - before Kishka, before even Shin. When being abandoned and left alone wasn't even a the shadow of a cloud on the horizon, when the worst that could have happened to him were the scrapes and bruises that he took in the falls that were so commonplace among the fields that they tended. He remembered pulling up the weeds among the potatoes and carrots and corn and wheat, and the whisper of a smiling voice, one that had sheltered him for so long and so far, all on her own.

The gardener's choice.

Argent looked at the man before him, golden eyes detached and analytical as though he were looking at just another math problem that needed to be solved. He'd come here in the hope of saving lives, of helping people that needed to be helped. He'd come here to bring security, peace, and justice to Rochdale - to bring them to a life of freedom, from the drugs and village elders and the constant hold that the Grimm had held over them until this day. He'd labored tirelessly, tried everything in his power to buy just one more day, just one more trip for the airship to make, just one more load of people saved from the grasping jaws of oblivion.

And yet, in the man's brown eyes, he found the end of trying.

These people were worse than animals. When animals fought and hunted and killed their own kind, it was for the sole purpose of the biological needs that drove them. For sustenance, for safety, for a mate - and that was why they were animals, slaves to their own biological programming and not capable of morality or sentient choice. These people, on the other hand, when faced with their end, when faced with the possibility that some could escape where they could not, their instinct was not to do what they could to save those that could be saved, to help those they could help - but to ensure that other people would die with them.

These weren't people. These were weeds, cancerous and overgrown, trying to choke out the life from anything they could get their hands on. They were a threat to the people who could escape, to the people who could continue to help others in the future. They were...

They were no better than the Grimm.

The knife in his hands suddenly felt very light. Despite the heat muddling him, it was easy to bring the knife up, glowing with silver Aura, and slide it into the man's throat with enough force to slam him to the ground. All those classes with Doctor Haragitanai absolutely did come in handy now - memorizing the exact position of the brain stem and destroying it with a single thrust ensured a quick and relatively painless death, even if the body still jerked and twisted on the ground as death finally caught up to it.

It was the only mercy he could give now.

Kishka started swinging at his side as the twin blades of Ouroboros slid out from their sheaths, and Argent started to wade through the people that had started to turn on them. No longer civilians, they were now threats and targets actively trying to murder the two in their midst. The snake Faunus weaved through clumsy strikes and poorly aimed gunshots, the green and black blades flashing as they glowed silver, Whisper striking with enough force to sever bone and flesh and bringing the blades back to him when they shot out to handle a slightly more distant threat. Perhaps it wasn't fair to judge desperate people like this and lump them into the same category as bandits that stalked the roads and preyed upon the weak, but Argent didn't have room in his head for fair at the moment. It was just survival, and making sure the two people who depended on him survived too.

"Nasrin!!!"

The scream from Kishka was desperate in a way that he'd never heard from her before - and Carmim's limp body sailed up and over into the crowd already present on deck. In a moment he'd calculated the trajectory, and made to go after her, but the presence that had been a constant by his side since the beginning of this nightmare didn't follow. He turned, and caught her purple gaze for the briefest of moments.

"I love you."

And she was off again, before he could respond. He would have grabbed her hand, but he was too slow - his fingers barely missed hers, and the crowd surged between them the moment they had an opening. Argent could only watch as she left him behind and forged towards the other Haven student, his hands still gripping the twin blades before he gritted his teeth and turned his attention to holding the line from the hordes while she made her way there and back.

The crowds drew back from him at first, but grew ever more frenzied as they sensed the last of their time running out. The snake Faunus spared no mind to the monsters in the background when there were enough monsters to occupy his time in front of him. He warded them off as best as he could, his initial thought being that lethality was no longer required since the objective had already been achieved, but eventually was forced to resort to the blades' intended purpose when another gunshot cracked past his head. The return salvo took the woman's head off, but he'd miscalculated the distance - half of Ouroboros plunged into her body and out of his reach, no longer able to call it back to him. A short time passed before he was forced to sacrifice the other one, spearing a man about to open fire on Kishka and Holly before he could pull the trigger, with enough force that the weapon pinned his body to the ground. Without Ouroboros in his hands, the crowd surged forward again, but Kishka and Holly were already on board, and they were lifting off with all available speed.

Kishka came up to him and held him close, and his empty hands twitched, still half curled into claws from how hard he'd held the blades before he'd left them behind. For the briefest of moments, he let himself rest his forehead against hers, feeling the weight of what he'd done wash against the bulwarks of his mind - but he forced it back, swallowed past a dry throat, and turned away. Rochdale fell away beneath them with amazing speed, and with it any chance of recovering the twin blades that he and Kishka had worked so hard to design together. It was fitting, in a way - that some part of them would stay there forever, lost in the hell that that village had become along with the people they'd left behind, where he'd been forced to stain his hands far more than he ever had before.

He didn't want to think about it.

Separating himself from Kishka's embrace, he tried to smile, and found that he could only manage a grimace. It felt like he'd forgotten how. After a moment, he stopped trying, and instead dipped his head, golden eyes hidden from view.

"Carmim's that way. Get help for her, please. I'll help Shadecloak with defense," he said, quietly, and stepped away. Moving to grab one of the extra quivers of arrows that had been placed strategically around the ship, Argent silently made his way past the packed villagers they'd managed to pick up from that hell. Some glared at him. Some were staring blankly at nothing. Some sobbed. He didn't have it in him to care at the moment. Instead, he crossed over to where Shadecloak was and gave her a nod. Ignoring the shaking of his hands and the slight quivering of his feet, he instead focused on what he could do for the remainder of the trip.

"Professor. Where do you need me?"

The mission wasn't over until they got home. The mission wasn't over until they touched down again.

Weeds. Just weeds.

Maybe once they had, he could let himself think about what he'd done.

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]

SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (AGILITY) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK E]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)[RANK F]

OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK E]

@ ● 2215 words ● 7000 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Qiu'li]

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Carving

a path to discover

True

Strength

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Some say that the first sense to awaken from birth, and the last to go before death, is hearing. For Qui'li, that much was very certain.
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The sounds of muffled shouting, roars, explosions, and the ever-familiar sensation of tremors rumbled above him. Qiu'li barely felt anything in his body when he had woken up. He wasn't sure if he could feel his legs anymore, but the sensation of pain was starting to ebb into his body. Right... The last thing he remembered was defeating the Gigas and it crumbling into pieces below him, plunging him into darkness. He couldn't remember how much rubble had fallen on top of him, but it was enough to knock him out briefly. When he had come to, all he could see was pitch black, save for a few spots of light.
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Perhaps it was a miracle that he managed to survive for this long, or maybe it was a testimony to his will to live. Regardless, the raven-haired man knew that there was still work to be done. They had to make it out alive. He had to make it out alive. Right. He promised Carmim that he'd return and face whatever came his way. Since he had woken up, Qiu'li made way by clawing his way out of the rubble. Without an Aura to protect him, each inch he made was met with tons of friction from the jagged edges of the rock. He felt fabric tear, and each time he grabbed onto something, he felt each inch of his palm get cut up. Right, he wasn't going to die here. He need to survive.
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That was true strength, surviving no matter what, right?
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At some point, he wasn't making any headway, and he had to rely on his tonfa to continue carving his way out. Each breath he took was wasting valuable oxygen, and at some point, his was grew dizzy from over-consumption. Eventually, the sounds of fighting grew louder. There were some roars, running, and a familiar noise:
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The sounds of an airship flying in the distance, followed by gunshots.
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Help was coming, thank goodness.
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This gave him hope. Qiu'li exerted more energy to continue climbing out until more light spots shone through. He was nearing the top, where he could regroup with the others and make their escape. What would he say first? Qiu'li figured that a lot of eyes would be on him, but at the very least, he would return back and face the consequences of his actions.
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Right, in Luoye, it was about righting things that were wronged. They weren't animals. They had their own governed laws. In this case, Qiu'li had also forgotten about their laws briefly. He had harmed someone. Someone who had a family. Even if it was in self-defense and for the sake of the village, he had to face what came at them. After that, he would return to the others. Carmim. Aegle.
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Evangeline.
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A single hand burst through the ground, dirty and heavily scratched up.
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Then a second.
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Qiu mustered enough strength to pull himself out and panted heavily as he looked around. Carnage and an overwhelming number of Grimm heading straight towards the southeast. That must be where the others are heading! He looked down at his battered arms and noticed one of the tonfas was completely wrecked. While their time was short, Qiu'li appreciated the work it served him, and stuck it down, keeping the other one ready in his good arm. He had to reach the spot.
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Except... That never came.
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Right above his head, the airship had passed him, and was heading in the opposite direction towards Mistral. Qiu'li stared as the ship slowly grew smaller and smaller, and a growing sense of despair overcame him.
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..
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No.
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Qiu'li shook his head. There had to be a mistake. He was still alive, right? They had to have. However, there was something that was more unsettling. In the distance, he heard shouting and screaming. There were survivors still, many calling for help and wailing about getting left behind. The raven-haired man grit his teeth. No... They wouldn't do something like that..
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Or would they?
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Qiu'li blinked several times as he thought about it. There was only so much space, so it was inevitable that there would be some left behind. Including himself, it seemed. The raven-haired man grit his teeth. He was going to survive, no matter what. He remembered how long it took for a single airship to return to them. He doubted that he could make it that long, therefore he'd have to stay alive until he could make it back. He looked back and reached into his pouch, drawing out the emotion dampening drugs that he hadn't taken before the long, drawn out battle. Qiu'li ingested every single one, forcing it down his throat before wiping his mouth.
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Bitter.
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Frustrated.
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...
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Indifferent.
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Right. This was a matter of survival, now. This was no different from growing up in Forever Fall on his own. Fight to survive, survive to live. Qiu'li looked back at the direction where many people were now panicking. Drawing in the attention of the Grimm. How many could he realistically save? Especially against this many Grimm? The raven-haired man frowned. It was regrettable, but he couldn't do much.
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Qiu'li turned and ran towards the direction the airship went.
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He ran as fast as he could manage, using the narrow alleyways and rooftops to escape the village. Qiu'li was going to survive, he had to Fight to live, live to survive. However, as far as he could see, there was more and more Grimm. Could he survive this? Even if on the off-chance he did, what lied ahead of him beyond the village? Despair and desolation, most likely. However, Qiu'li was sure that remaining here would mean death. He would much rather risk his chances beyond, than stay behind and face certain death. Fight to survive, survive to live.
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That is the way of the Luoyian.


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WC: 1001 TWC: 6368
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--
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Fènnù (+Strength +Agility +Projectile Sword Beam) | Rank D
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Hei Tiequán | Rank E
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Wolf Style: Pounce (Leap) | Rank C
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Weapon Proficiency II (Martial Arts) | Rank E
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Dance of the Wild Winds II (Acrobatics) | Rank E
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Resilience of the Crimson Oaks II (Durability) | Rank E
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Dragon's Roar II (Utility Tool) | Rank E

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[Wolfe]

XP Distribution:

Wolfe: 132 x 200% = 264 (event bonus)

264 x 150% = 396 (Storyteller bonus)

22 + 396 = 418 XP new total

Colton: 111 x 200% = 222 (event bonus)

162 + 222 = 384 XP new total

Nasrin: 53 x 200% = 106 (event bonus)

607 + 106 = 713 XP new total

Jack: 70 x 200% = 140 (event bonus)

267 + 140 = 407 XP new total

Holly: 129 x 200% = 258

769 + 258 = 1,027 XP new total

Carm: 105 x 200% = 210 (event bonus)

696 + 210 = 906 XP new total

Kish: 94 x 200% = 188 (event bonus)

151 + 188 = 339 XP new total

Argent: 70 x 200% = 140

129 + 94 = 269 XP new total

Kiwi: 63 x 200% = 126

360 + 126 = 486 XP new total

Shade: 10 x 200% = 20 (Event bonus)

183 + 20 = 203 XP new total

All PCs also get 2EP from this event.