Miles Riverbend
"You're a fool. I've no reason to kill her, nor do I wish to," the therian snarled.
Releasing a sigh, Miles’ eyes glanced idly over Sergeant Erin before the Beast Slayer nodded his head, signalling to shoot. Erin grimaced, but too disciplined to disobey, he squeezed the trigger. To Jaeger Guard’s utter dismay however, his actions were rewarded with a wet click. Somewhere along the line, the rain had finally seeped through the leather cover, entering the rifle’s mechanisms to moisten the gun powder. Sergeant Erin might as well have been holding a elaborate club at that point.
Both men opened their mouths, initiating the start to a shared curse as the therian’s body began glowing a second time.
“This is precisely why I don’t use firearms!” Miles swore, baring his teeth as the therian’s rippling force tore out and smacked him over.
The world span around as his body twisted mid-air. Surreal as the reversed imagery was, Miles had no wish experience it for any length of time. Landing again in the mud, he tumbled away, rolling with the momentum to re-launch himself upright. In another second the Beast Slayer sprung back on his feet, maintain a crouched position as he glared at the therian and his wench as they fled from the scene.
“Stop them!” Miles screamed.
Not that the order was necessary. Gauging that the situation had devolved, the other four Jaeger Guard reacted with astonishing haste. With the stubble gun already setup in preparation, all they needed to do was crank the trigger. Lieutenant Bastionne, the ochre skinned man, handled the cannon with enthusiasm. Rotating his arm to spin the crank, a steady chattering began to fill the air as round after round was spat out at a terrifying rate. Obsidian balls bombarded the clearing, obliterating flora and gouging holes into the road way in an effort to seek out the duo.
Sergeant Erin was back on his feet also. Musket forgotten, he was actually the first to fire as he withdrew his flintlock pistol and hammered the therian in the chest. Just short of the heart, assuming therians had those. Before anything fatal could land, the couple disappeared beyond a ditch. Miles assumed they had tumbled down the incline and motioned the Jaeger Guard forwards with a flourish of his arm.
“Search and destroy! Don’t let them escape!” he roared. The stubble gun would take time to dismantle and move, but the others would be more than sufficient.
Sprinting forwards, Miles ran through the rain and glanced over the ditch. Unable to spot either the therian or woman, his fist slammed into a nearby tree trunk in rage.
“Follow their foot tracks! After them!”
“This is your fault Mr Riverbend, I’ll be informing my superiors of your failure,” Sergeant Eris levelled his gaze at Miles as the Jaeger Guard passed by.
“Just go do your job,” Miles responded.
Ironically it was him who had been fooled by the same trick twice.
April Rosevolt
Plunged into the trench, April winced from the acute pain that still haunted her limbs. She withstood it for Touya’s sake, knowing that whatever she felt was insignificant to the therian’s grievous wounds. Rolling around in the mud, she ended up on top of him in a sloppy heap, dirt soaking her hair and clothes.
Their chests heaved from the combined effort of escaping. For April, her heart pumped in her chest, beating against the extremities of her rib cage. Adrenaline poured through her veins in spontaneous response to danger, heightening her senses. Above them she could hear their cries of objection and the frightening salvo of gunfire.
“Your wounds,” she murmured anxiously, displaying real concern for his safety. Touya had taken multiple hits and April was certainly no healer. She had little idea what she could do for him. Would he bleed out like that other soldier?
Touya pushed up, pulling her back on her feet with clear intentions of running. Familiarizing herself with their surroundings, April pin pointed the location of their steed and assisted Touya in reaching in. She clambered up first, hoisting her weight up even with the cuffs in place. Flipping her leg over, she glanced down towards Touya, “Hold onto my waist.”
He complied with obediently and climbed up behind her. His warmth merged with her back as Touya slouched against her, his strength evading him.
"I'm sorry... I should have listened," he said.
April snapped the reigns, urging the horse to gallop.
“Don’t die on me yet Touya. Things were just about to get interesting,” she stated, heading straight towards Altheim.
Dean ‘Havoc’ Reginald
"Just go... you have to hurry..."
Reginald raised an incredulous eyebrow at the mercenary’s delirious ramblings.
“Go where exactly?” he sighed, “You haven’t even told me where they are.”
The key keepers adjudicate entered the room then with a med-kit and mug of water. Reginald smiled at him and offered a brief word of thanks before resuming his duties.
“Awful weather,” the adjudicate murmured.
“Hmmm, what?” Reginald said, not really listening.
“Oh, the rain. Looks absolutely dreadful,” the adjudicate remarked and then stepped out.
Frowning, Reginald glanced out the tiny window and confirmed that it was indeed raining. That was typical Altheim weather for you. Perfectly normal weather at one moment, raining the next. Glancing down at Damea, he fed the unconscious man some water, lifting his head slightly to prevent choking. After cleaning a few cuts and bruises, he finished of dressing them and then turned to the key keeper. The elderly man had returned to his desk and was currently residing over a crinkled newspaper.
“That should be it,” Reginald interjected. The key keeper looked up from the tabloid, drawn to his voice. “When he wakes up, leave him this note.”
The note held an address to Reginald’s house. Though he had authority to order the city guard to shift Damea, Reginald preferred not to.
“Are you certain it’s safe to release him?” the key keeper asked.
Reginald’s look left little room for debate. Repacking the med-kit, the former medic dropped the equipment on the man’s desk before seeking out the exit.
“Just make sure he gets the note.”
The tram ride back was agonizingly slow. After spending his time at the guard precinct, Reginald entered into what was grudgingly referred to as peak hour traffic.
By the time he reached his modest apartment, the sun was far below the horizon. Reginald strode up the steps to his doorway and fumbled to open the lock mechanism. The stubborn door received a final shove as it gave way, opening up to his simple lounge room. Blundering inside, he kicked of his shoes and flicked on the light switch.
“Reginald?”
Reginald’s eyes widened as he span around, jumping at sudden intrusion. Looking like she had escaped through hell, the former lieutenant was encrusted in filth and blood as she addressed him with a vacant expression. By far the most concerning sight however was the bloody mess laid out on his couch.
“April…what's going on? what happened?”
"Please, help him."