Another bolt was let fly, Lyle barely transforming in time to deflect the bolt. Kasmir slowly advanced, a wild look in his eyes as he dodged another bolt tearing past, only inches from his face. A normal scouting mission wouldnât have been anything that caught notice, but this was a surefire way to garner attention from the masses. âJust like training back at the Academy, eh Lyle?â As Kasmir made his way forward, Lyle remained somewhat relaxed in his Meisterâs grip, casually observing the situation with a calm disinterest. âYeah, simple stuff. I could probably take a nap and youâd still be able to handle it. Youâre so dependable like that.â Keeping the banter light, Lyle narrowed his eyes as more bolts came their way, steeling himself to have Kasmir deflect the deadly ones. Had the enemy changed position on them with this fog? It was impossible to see much more than a few feet in front of you.
Meanwhile, back at the van, the rest of the team was regrouping for the moment. [color= #3AC3AB]âUgh, what are those two doing charging ahead like that? Weâre supposed to be a team!â[/color] Cleo shouted the last part, hoping that the boys would maybe hear her. One of them did, but it wasnât the one she intended. âLess people to deal with, I only have so many leashes. Get your head in the game, bubbly.â Cyrille was almost ignoring all the fireworks that were happening around them, staying focused and making sure to keep quiet as to not be discernible in the thick fog. Cleo was not so wise. âI am in the game, right Socie? If theyâre going ahead without us, we should back them up, together!â Gesturing for her weapon to enter her hands, Cleo got into a basic stance as she waited for Cyrille, watching as he walked over and focused his attention on Ash. Slapping her cheek lightly, and giving her the signal to transform. âHey Ash, Iâm either using you as a blade or human shield. Walk yourself awake.â Cyrille already was yearning to give orders. Frankly, he didnât expect actual action, but heâll play a bit. He had a slight suspicion that their enemy was well out of their league.
âSlap me again and youâll need a shield from me,â her nap had been so rudely interrupted and now no was letting her wake up at a good pace. It's not like sheâd get hit by any of those bolts, even while groggy. Grumbling further to herself, Ash made pace and followed Cy. Waiting for the last possible moment she needed to transform.
âHey Gerain, a little he-â. Before he could even finish, he turned back only to quickly jump out of the way. A Hawaiian shirt wearing beast punching the van forward by a few yards, causing Cleo to squeal out in alarm as she stumbled out of the way. âHAHA, GERAIN HAS FOUND THE SMALL SUITED MEN!â The van creaked to a painful stop, the remaining intact glass windows shattering as the car almost compressed on impact. Cyrille watched where it had landed before calling out to Cleo. âUmm..Hey Cleo, thanks for handling this one.â The hot-headed red hair meister ran out to the car, essentially leaving Cleo to her own devices. He was curious of why Gerain attacked them, but really had no time to pursue fruitless suspicions. If anyone could figure out this stuff for him, besides him, of course. It was Cleo.
âH-huh?!â Turning to see Cyrille running off, Cleo took a moment to realise what was happening. âWait, hold up, why do I have to-â Cleo didnât get the chance to finish her sentence. As Cyrille disappeared into the fog, Gerainâs focus turned toward the only other visible figure. Leaping at the axe-wielder without forewarning, shaking the ground as he left it. âDonât know if this is important, but you might want to take a look above you, Cleo!â If Socie had her limbs she would try to get her attention by gesturing but screaming would suffice. Cleo briefly recognized the shadow over her just in time to pull her partner into the way, the loud clang echoing through the air as claw met steel. âSnap out of it Gerain! Whatâs wrong with you?! Itâs us! Donât you recognize me? I thought you said my hair looked nice!â Despite her best efforts to hold her ground, Cleo was steadily buckling under the strength of the werewolf in front of her. In a battle of raw power, she wasnât the best, despite the axe she wielded. âYou wonât trick me suited man! Youâre mine!â Pulling back from the locked power struggle, Gerain began to unleash a steady torrent of blows at Cleo, slash after slash pounding at the shaft of the axe as the girl barely managed to shift the weapon to defend herself. Each blow sent a tremor through the weapon, and each strike caused Cleoâs knees to buckle a little as she dug into the dirt. The disadvantage of how unwieldy the axe could be really hampering her when not on the offensive. âHow are we supposed to stop him if he wonât listen to us?! I donât want to hurt our tour guide!â Cleo whined to Socie, frozen in indecision for the moment as she struggled to come up with a plan. What was even going on? Why was he after them? And why did he keep calling her a suited man?! She wasnât that tomboyish!
âNot to be that girl cause violence isnât the answer but sometimes it's the only way people will listen.â Socie replied, she was kind of irritated by how many blows she had to take. Socie and Ash had different priorities right now, Cleo wanted to spare the life of a maniac and Socie wanted to get her hands dirty. A slight tap on the head wouldnât hurt, right? Assuming that he wasnât a demon or an otherworldly god or something. âDo you mind throwing me in his general direction? Do you think that would poison me? Iâll say youâre in the game if you do. That would be a pretty gamey thing to do, right?â
âNo way! I canât throw you over there without letting Gerain rip me to pieces! Not to mention⊠Wait, poison? What are you talking about?â Cleoâs confusion evident on her face, the small girlâs mind played over the past events and the way Gerain was acting. Wait, could it be..?
Bolt after bolt rained through the fog, a fusillade of spikes, each one potentially deadly. To make matters worse, whoever was firing them was moving rapidly through the fog and somehow able to aim at its target unerringly. âTch, come and fight me, you coward!â Kasmir screamed into the fog, and he was answered by another bolt from the left, aimed at his face. He could feel the wind part to make way for the bolt on his skin, barely missing its intended target. âHow can he even see me in this fucking mess?! If I could see him, heâd be a deadmanâŠâ Looking mildly annoyed himself, Lyle scoffed. âHmmph, youâre telling me. Honestly, youâre embarrassing us both Kasmir. No oneâs lasted this long in quite a while.â
Gerain was going berserk in the background, screaming out about, âThe suited man!â It was really a distraction Kasmir couldnât afford at the moment. Another bolt came flying, and was promptly knocked out of the air by the whirlwind that was Lyle. Stopping to spare a glance at Gerain and the others, another loosed bolt managed to hit Kasmirâs jacket and pin him to the ground with it. The bolts stopped coming, a long enough temporary respite for him to shrug the jacket off and begin a hasty retreat back to the group. âThatâs gonna be a bitch get to get mendedâ
Cyrille almost left him at the mercy of the elements. He kind of deserved it for running out without protection or a plan. While he definitely would be chastised by Lord D if he let one of them die, Cyrille couldnât help but be mesmerized by the dance. Kasmir was doing a good enough time of not getting hit but he was being tracked almost too perfectly. Every bolt found its mark, did the man trace him with the noise of metal against metal with each parry? No⊠Kasmir dodged some as well.
âHey Ash, gonna need you to cover this guy.â Without warning, he waved his hand out to send her forward. Pointed forward for utmost forward trajectory, it flew past Kasmir and parried the bolts. While the string of blood that connected them had a seemingly endless length, it was harder to control such an excessively large blade with his smaller soul wavelength as the distance between them grew.
âWhat a pain, canât even stop themselves from dying,â Ash complained, mostly to herself. Within the heat of battle, her monotone mumblings didnât carry. These bolts carried a good amount of force, and she wasnât exactly designed to just take them flat on. Lyle got to be swung around and properly parried with and she had to careen like a javelin, totally unfair.
âMuch obliged Cyrille.â
The air hummed as a bolt found itâs mark, not through Kasmirâs back, but cutting straight through the string that Cyrille made. Both of them received a light shock as Ash clattered to the ground.
âHuh, this isnât good.â The flamberge now lay on the ground, entirely separated from its source of power. Cyrille didnât know how to use her properly but it was still better than helplessly laying in the middle of a field. Completely isolated she couldnât turn back to her human form and run to Cyrille, she enjoyed the feeling of not being shot too much. Well as long as she was just a piece of metal on the dirt not as if he would shoot at her, maybe she could get some sleep while the others dealt with this.
What? What? What? No way..no fucking way. Every signal and receptor in his brain screamed red flags. The guy they were facing was clearly out of their league, severing the string? He looked back at Gerain and Cleo, the fight clearly swinging in the favor of the oversized werewolf. Cyrille could swear that Gerain was growing from every strike performed by both parties. What can he do? What was the plan, what was the play? He never was one to curl up in a ball and try to disappear, but this stress was clearly rushing to his head. Blood running into his brain. Should he run, should he stay, should he fight? Cyrille stared at his leaking right thumb, the blood dribbling to the ground in a rhythmic fashion.
drip
drop
drip
drop
drip
CHUNK!
He promised Ash that he wouldnât bite his thumb again, but they both disappointed each other almost every day, so he felt that he could cheat during this moment in particular. At least, it was his left thumb this time, sparing his right the prospect of amputation.
As blood slowly trickled down his thumb, he waved his hand out before covering the finger with his right palm. Now he was focused, drowning out the unwanted thoughts and-
Wait a minute.
A few feet in front of him, it was almost like the drops was caught in a spiderâs web. Dragging a..string downwards as the crimson color seemed to glisten as it glazed the string. Strings..what fo-
Answered, though interrupted immediately, a bolt shot through the air and flew past him, Cyrille saving his own life with a well-timed dodge. The timing was too perfect. Not his duck, but the bolt that followed immediately after the string was brought down by the drop of blood. Almost like notes of a music page, the actions happened close after the other, and like a happily wedded redneck couple, they were related.
After sulking time, and noticing that Kasmir has found himself some cover, he called for his teammate to provide some support, AKA, a distraction while he goes out to fetch Ash. âKasmir! Cover me, will âya?â Cyrille just needed him to deflect bolts âtill their enemy had to reload, then heâll grab his partner and theyâll assist Cleo. Unsurprisingly, Cyrille might just have a plan.
âGot it!â Kasmir screamed out over the din of battle, leaping out of cover and drawing their assailantâs fire. Sure enough, the bolts immediately began to rain down on the meister. Twirling Lyle like a baton, the first bolt was knocked out of the air. A swift duck let the second bolt soar over his head, and Kasmir found himself giggling wildly. âWell⊠I was hoping this would be more exciting than a scouting mission.â
Damn near certain that he could take their assailant down if only the coward would show his face, Kasmir contented himself with the delicate dance of dodging, parrying and ensuring Cyrille didnât end up on the wrong end of a bolt. Whoever was firing these things was skilled too. Repositioning quickly and firing in calculated volleys, aiming low with one and immediately following up with one aimed high, it wasnât the work of an amateur. âWhatever data the Academy had on this mission, it was WAY off.â
âWell, no sense complaining. Just focus on not getting pinned down like before. Thereâs only so much I can do to protect us all.â Arrogantly claiming sole responsibility for the safety of the team, Lyle had stopped paying attention to the battle ahead and was instead doing his best to watch Kasmirâs positioning to protect Cyrille and by proxy, Ash. There was no telling when the volley would switch targets if the other meister made a wrong move, but he needed to be ready to inform his meister to switch positions and intercept.
Watching as Kasmir deflected the bolts, Cyrille studied the movements. The bolts were spontaneous, right when he ran into the open. Of course, while the area between them was covered with wires, there must be places where they could wait out the storm. Shelter to regroup and construct a plan of action. Snapping out of his daze, Cyrille ran out as he got the assailant's attention, having to dodge the bolts that Kasmir didnât deflect. Rolling to safety, he grabbed Ash and reconnected the blood string.
Pulling her out of her slump (Cyrille knew for certain that she was taking a nap), he brought them behind cover. âKasmir! Thatâs enough!â Running away from the ensuing bolts, he noticed Cleo and Gerain. He was pleasantly surprised that she lasted this long, though noticing the cracks in her defenses as she was beginning to get overpowered. He waved Kasmir over as they ran to her aid.