Stride had long gotten used to waking up on floors. She had learned shortly after becoming a member of SCION that it was part of the job description, as was the occasional broken bone, poisoning, voodoo mind control, and nice coats of blood on your clothes- whether yours or someone elseâs, it really didnât matter much at the end of the day.
Waking up in the center of an arena underneath the blistering sun, however? Well, it was certainly new, although Stride would be lying if she said she was particularly pleased about this turn of events.
Groaning, the hybrid attempted to lift herself off the ground, only to slip on the polished tile beneath and collapse back onto the floor. A long string of curses left her lips not long after, particularly some choice words on how the brightly colored mosaic was a âfucking motherfucking son of a bitchâ, and a thoughtful contemplation on âwhat the hell is this shitâ. After a few moments, Stride once again attempted to lift herself, and successfully managed to pull herself into a sitting position. She merely sat there for a few moments, taking a moment to ascertain that her goggles and mask were indeed affixed to her face before suddenly grabbing her head in both hands, hissing under her breath. Her head was killing herâŠ
It didnât take long for her to recall what had happened in the darkness some time before, and less time to bring to mind what Mr. âLet me just kidnap you then give a half-assed explanation of whatâs going onâ had said specifically. âTheyâ- almost unconsciously, Strideâs gaze swept the arena floor, taking in the various figure laid out neatly on the ground around her- were all stuck in âhis worldâ...In another time, she may have rejected the notion of this being reality. Clung to a belief of her merely having some trippy, drug-induced dream in the middle of the medical ward. However, it took little more than sinking her own fangs into the soft stuff of her palm to brush away the thought, and send her assessing her surroundings once more. After all, when one worked with the monsters that went bump in the night, one tended to have a more open mind about things.
And open minds were the key to survival in these kinds of situations.
While Stride had not given too careful a look at her surroundings during her first rounds, it took only a few more to realize some...details she had missed. Essential details, most likely, but it was better late noticing these things than never, she supposed.
One, there were several duffle bags scattered about the arena, one of which being a dark green thing placed before her little âareaâ. Atop the rich material read a small slip of paper reading âTo Strideâ.
Second, quite a few of the others sharing the space with her didnât appear to be exactly human; she could easily spot a few tails on some from here, wings there, and even some that resembled creatures from the zoo over any humanoid she had ever come across.
Third, lying close by was a very familiar vampire, curled on his side with knees tucked into his chest. Above him was a fairly large umbrella, and, as Stride had expected, another duffle bag bearing his name had been placed a few feet before him, too. While he wasnât the prime choice of coworkers that could have been dragged in along with her, he was still better than others, and, even then, she couldnât exactly leave him there. Rising to her feet- and momentarily stumbling as the blood flow returned to her legs- Stride slung her own duffle bag over her shoulder and took the few steps to reach her coworker.
After moving into the shade offered by the umbrella, the fighter lowered herself to the ground, letting the bag fall to the side as she assessed the other. Out cold, just like she was...Not knowing the exact protocol of waking up a sleeping vampire, Stride reached out and began to shake his shoulders, giving a slight grumble upon seeing no immediate effect.
âHey, Mad, rise nâ shine. Time for beauty rest or whateverâs up already, yeah? Get up.â More shaking, eliciting a soft muttering from Lovette. Spurred on by having at least some response, Stride continued to push him back and forth, eventually rolling him onto his back with a bit of a harder shove than intended. However, it did the job, and soon enough black eyes had fluttered open to peer up at her.
âWell,â Madison began, pushing himself up with ease (something that caused a twinge of annoyance in Stride) and glancing about. âI suppose that weâre not at the base anymore, then?â
âThe fuck do you think?â The half-breed drawled in response.
Before they could speak at further length, the researcher of the two suddenly perked up, rapidly turning his head to glance about before settling on no one in particular.
The others would be joining them soon, it seemed.