Evidently, it seemed that the warning hadnât been left with enough time for it to register within Strideâs mind. While whatever insult that she had been about to let fly had been silenced, it had taken her a moment or two of pause before the gorgon cursed sharply, attempting to swing her arms away from whatever surface she had been grappling towards before. She had just managed to extend her hands out before her (as well as let out a rapid-fire of âshits) before Victor had removed the curse, although the grunt that she gave upon impact made it clear that it hadnât done all that much to break the fall.
âFuckinâ hell, Victor.â Grumbling her words under her breath, Stride pushed herself from the ground through use of her elbows, all the while listing the most creative terms she could come up within such a short time. She contemplated implying that he performed obscene acts upon his mother. She debated bestowing him the title of a child born out of wedlock, or that he was a sack filled with some of the more intimate regions of a womanâs body. Eventually, however, she went with the classic âya assholeâ, attempting to bring herself into a standing position as she went on.
âTried doinâ the whole,â an aimless gesture with a gloved hand, âya know, âgo after âem only when theyâre in traininâ thingâ ya suggested there a few times, and ya know what happened? The pussy knew Iâd end up beatinâ the shit outta âem, so he just went nâ stayed outta the hall when I tried to catch âem. Had to go nâ get âem when he wasnât lookinâ.â As if to emphasize her point, once she had fully risen, Stride gave her palms a hearty smack.
While a part of her wanted to continue to regale her fighting tales, there was still another one that wanted to add the Kora incident onto that pile, so it was with a checking of her belt (yep, gear still there, nice and tight) that she moved to leave the room. However, as the rubbery heel of her boot whined against the tile, she caught sight of a certain all-vampiric sniper.
âSpeak of the devil.â Grinning, Stride proceeded to jerk a thumb towards Makorai, turned towards Victor yet again. âAnd see? Even the guy makinâ a livinâ in the closet thinks that was pretty much one of the gayest things that couldâa come outta your mouth, there.â She took a moment to crack her neck, relishing in the pop that followed, before eyeing the mage almost skeptically. âYa still sure youâre not hidinâ somethinâ from us, Vic? I mean, if ya ever...ya know, wanna tell us somethinâ, we wonât go âround judginâ.â Bit by bit, her inflection took on a more âsincereâ tone, to the point where one might think she was serious if they did not know her properly.
More of these comments had been about to spill forth- what dam had been put in place leaking its vitals into the open- before Makoraiâs comments towards one Dr. K had reminded her of her main objective. Grinning yet again like the fiend she was, Stride gave the tranq at her gun a soft pat before swivelling to face the exitway.
âLucky for you, Mako, I donât got anythinâ against shootinâ chicks. Equality nâ all that shit.â Just before she left the room, she made sure to add, âAnd if I get this taken care of and you donât, ya owe me a drink.â An unstated rule that she had made up right here, right now. The entire government branch of this new law- and a law that she left dangling in the air as Stride jogged through the halls, following the sounds of a scuffle more than anything.
Just as she turned the corner to the back-entrance of the SCION base, she managed to catch sight of Kreios attempting to choke WereKora out...and, as expected, getting flipped back in retaliation. Further, silent scanning of the tiling revealed a horribly marred stag, Dinah, her brother (who seemed to be fresh from his latest trip to Hot Topic), and Satoru. It was fairly simple to guess what had taken place- although instead of doing the more mature thing and immediately moving to tranquilize a werewolf who appeared to have gone feralâŠ
Stride did the fun thing, first.
She laughed.
âDid you really just try nâ go all MMA on a fuckinâ werewolf? The fuck, dude?â In the midst of her chortling, it seemed that she had conveniently forgotten her attempt at doing the same thing- even if it was when Kora hadnât had her maw buried in a carcass. She wiped at tears that werenât there, snickered a bit more, and, finally, when she had her fill of the sight, lifted the tranq and aimed it at the soft belly of one of her furrier friends.
âHeads up.â Hopefully, the dart would meet its target. It was from a good, well-made, filled with enough chemicals to put a racing horse to sleep. Or potentially a few, depending on who you asked. Stride didnât exactly had her mind set on the most accurate comparisons at the moment, really- only putting a stop to the whole ârunaway wolfâ crisis.
After firing off the dart, it was in an almost conversational manner that she suddenly addressed Dinah, although her eyes never left Kora with the action.
âHow long did it take ya to kill that thing?â A slight nod towards the stagâs corpse. A nod, and that was all that seemed necessary for the moment.