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Snippet #2500552

located in The Wicked, a part of Wicked Ones, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Wicked

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mei Kulakov Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Kelsier Achylis Character Portrait: Aini Lestari Character Portrait: Joe/Seph Broliny
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Asteria

"Hey blondie think this will work in knocking you out? That is if the time came,"

"Right, yeah, sure," she replied distractedly, side-eyeing the frying pan with a mixture of distrust and... mild curiosity? She'd almost thought that her illusions had finally gotten out of hand for a moment there-- enough to do a double-take, anyway. 'But seriously though, what the fuck.' Aster was spared an equally inattentive comment on the last bits of conversation (zoning out seemed to be becoming a habit) when everything, not in the least predictably, started to go to shit. In retrospect, maybe watching that half-suicidal kid actually run towards Psychopath should've been a sign to wash her hands of this whole 'Wicked Ones' business. It certainly seemed like a good enough time to walk away, especially when Spiky 'Do was getting burned out there. What did it say about the gang when their leader-figure got himself owned in front of his lackeys?

'When did I stop taking my own advice?' She could almost feel the years and decades slide off her lifespan and down through her fingers. Really, just reassuring. And so was the mounting screech of her headache, fuck if she would ever sell bloodlust short again, 'Jesus fucking Christ this is getting ridiculous--'

'-- wait what.' The pain left as quickly as it had come, the silent ringing in her ears almost jarring compared to the dull roar that it had been. By the time that Aster could look up in disbelief (she hadn't exactly been watching), there was already a crowd of two at Morgan's side and a suspiciously absent Psychopath; that, and a somewhat concerning amount of cops spilling over. From then, they seemed to be splitting up and finally getting the hell out of there-- by all means, a brilliant plan if it involved running. She didn't really think much of contributing, then, (not that she knew much of L.A. anyway, or where they were headed) and kind of just stood near the back until one of the dudes finished blasting a hole in the mortar.

She wondered if it was a good thing, that she was starting not to get surprised. 'Weird shit, anyway.' At least it seemed as though... Mercy? knew her way around. Spiky 'Do, though. Worrying.

At Mercy's command to 'stick close and don't lose sight' of her, Aster gave a lazy, two-fingered salute before following behind; making some comment like "Ay-ay, captain. After you." on the way. She was certainly spry when compared to her condition just a few moments prior, and for all her doubt-filled worth watched carefully as they made their way through the streets. It wouldn't do to get themselves caught, after all, and so she occasionally made use of a few illusions when it ever counted-- as subtly as she could, anyway, and shrugging it off (for the rest of the group wouldn't have necessarily understood) if any of them happened to notice. It was just a convenient thing, seeing as how they couldn't have made good time with Morgan half-down for the count.

Aster was in a good enough mood, anyway. She'd always been at home in the streets, so far as anyone could tell. After what seemed to be a while of inconspicuous back-alley sleuthing, she asked (in what would be a well-natured, mildly sarcastic tone): "So, where are we headed? Let me guess, the Wicked Ones take with underground tunnels and have a bottomless budget?"