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Snippet #1696935

located in District Gamma, a part of Revelation: The Cure, one of the many universes on RPG.

District Gamma

Sometimes called the charlatan's district, home to the Assassins' Guild.

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Sewers

Damn them to the surface world! Zade’s mental tirade started rather suddenly upon catching sight of the reinforcements headed in their direction. This was insane, this entire plan was suicide. They were out-gunned, out-strategized, and damn Gilgamesh was going to wind up in charge of the entire city! She’d known it, truly she had. That man got away with everything, and now they were setting explosives and Gamma and Delta were going to bite it for Elisia-knew-what insane reasons those pompous assholes in waistcoats had planned, she damn well knew it.

Seething as she was, she nearly missed the blow dart exiting the pipe her downed opponent carried. She’d certainly missed it being retrieved, and she swore under her breath, crushing his windpipe with a foot and tracing the trajectory with worried eyes. It hit Victoria and not the technician, and while logically this was the best outcome after a complete miss, she didn’t really see it that way. She’d always been the sort of person to think that treating strangers like you treated your friends and allies was bullshit, so obviously she was none too pleased with the development.

The doctor’s apprentice seemed able to handle it though, and Zade herself was forced to go back to the fight, running up to try and clog one of the sides of the back-to-back formation Amon and the other guy had assumed. She wasn’t really sure what his name was, but it didn’t matter right now. Laying into the first one to slip through with extreme prejudice, she wasn’t quite able to avoid the spray of arterial blood from the vein underneath his armpit (that’s what you get for raising your sword so dramatically, fool) and her entire right arm was bathed in it. Figuring she might as well make use of the reduction in friction, she increased the velocity of her spin, catching the next man in the kneecaps before she heard Victoria’s desperation and made the split-second decision to retreat slightly to come up even with the blond girl.

Nodding tersely, she took up a position on the left of the physician, weaving in and out of the approaching pair of men, sliding under swings aimed at her and peppering them here and there with slices too quick to be too deep, but distracting enough to qualify as infuriating. “Tell me when that thing’s definitely not going to blow,” she informed the tech tersely.

Right now, she really needed to light some things on fire.



Gamma, above the sewers

Pandora flinched from the disdaining look on Aram’s face, and wondered if perhaps she had done something amiss. Oh, stop it! There isn’t enough time to worry about offending anyone right now! Really, sometimes she was certain she needed to get her priorities straight.

The battle quickly devolved, and she was very aware of the fact that she needed to be looking out for both the ones with weapons and the ones without, as there was certainly no truce with either side as far as she was concerned. Was it ironic that she’d always tried so hard to be as inoffensive as possible and now probably had more potential killers than either the other magi or the guardsmen? Probably, but it was a rather painful irony, and she didn’t much fancy dwelling on it. Instead, she focused her attention on moving the still-living but injured as far away from the main crush of battle as possible so she could close the biggest wounds and furtively hope that she was striking the right balance between using her energy and doing enough to actually save people. It wasn’t an exact science by any means.

A barrage of ice shards whizzed by just over her head, and she had to duck around several duels in-progress, but truly, whether for better or worse, Pandora’s considerable tendencies towards intimidation and fear were suppressed by the sheer urgency of her task and the importance which she assigned to it, and guardsman and mage alike were often one moment laying prone and dying on the field only to be gripped under the arms by a person much smaller than them and dragged bodily elsewhere, if they were deemed safe to move. Most of them fell asleep shortly after that, a small mercy that she would not forgo, but there were few who instead felt the soothing touch of healing magic and were able to watch as the mortal injuries disappeared. These, too, were then sedated, to prevent them from rejoining the confrontation.

But obviously no such small effort could ever be enough, and so many more died that the air was sick with the stench of it. In time, she made out a shout from Aram, and her blood momentarily froze in her veins. The Cure. They have the Cure. Her hands clenched into fists at her side, and Pandora visibly trembled. More than the thought that she would be hit and unable to continue, more than the primal terror of losing one’s essence (as magic was for a mage), more than any of it was one horrifying piece of understanding.

This had been a battle, but it was soon to be a slaughter.

cron