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Snippet #2767996

located in Descendant Tower, a part of Descendant Academy, one of the many universes on RPG.

Descendant Tower

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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Wynne Worthington Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna Character Portrait: Harley Williams Character Portrait: Haldor Thorson
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wren wilson
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frankie parker
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Frankie moved around like a dazed puppet. Her body was hoisted up from the ground and then shoved forward. Her eyes blinked lethargically as she turned her head to take in her surroundings. There was death
 everywhere. The knot in her stomach twisted and turned. She fought ever urge to double over to heave. Nothing would come up, even if she did. They hadn’t eaten since the gala
 there was nothing to vomit up, but the sensation didn’t leave. Her skin grew clammy, like a cold sweat.

Her gaze fallen back upon the solider on the ground, dead by her own hands. Frankie hadn’t realized she wasn’t breathing until a hand fell upon her shoulder, causing her to inhale a sharp breath and look toward them. “It’s okay, you saved one of your own,” Lilith said with some amount of reassurance.

Frankie couldn’t bring herself to speak, just simply nodded her head in acknowledgement. Everything was moving around her in a fast haze that she couldn’t follow it. That was until a loud slam seemed to shake the very ground beneath her feet. Following the noise, an external wall crumbled beneath Ulrich’s fist. She had never seen the man seem so
 angry or annoyed or who knew what else.

“Go Then!” Ulrich all but growled at Wren. Before she could reply or try to exit herself, he threw her backward from the gaping hole. The shock took her voice from her, Wren couldn’t curse as the mother loving ape that pushed her out of the building like it was Sparta, nor could she scream. On her way down Wren felt the cool sensation of rain upon her skin, before her back slammed into the muddy earth beneath her, the wind knocked from her.

Seeing Ulrich pushed Wren from the building snapped Frankie from her daze. “What the hell, Ulrich?” Frankie shouted as she ran over to the hole in the wall. She rested her hand on the bricks, leading her head out into the rain to see if Wren was ok. Several feet below the red head coughed and writhed on the ground.

"Anybody else wanna find another way out?” Ulrich asked the rest of them.

Before he could throw anyone else out, Frankie motioned some of them forward. Even exhausted, she had enough of her strength to climb down to the ground. The tail of her grown dragged in the mud under foot as the rain seemed to fall heavier. There wasn’t much she could tell about their surroundings beyond it being dark outside and the entire building was surrounded by trees.

Wren slowly rolls over onto her side coughing and gasping for air. She grasped at her side as a pain shot from her ribs. Broken? Probably. She could still feel the effects of the drug in her system, fighting her body from healing itself. Wren inhaled sharp painful breaths as she looked over her shoulder toward the building seeing that she fell a good ten foot drop.

Frankie brushed her drenched hair from her face and trudged over to Wren. Not that either one of them remotely got along with the other, and she wouldn’t deny that Wren had gotten annoying in this situation. But, she wouldn’t have threw the girl from a building. And even though Frankie wouldn’t admit it to herself, Wren was taking control when no one else did. She was the reason they got out, so whatever other feelings she had, that was more important.

The blonde crotched down beside Wren, taking her arm carefully and draping it across her shoulders. Frankie wrapped her own arm around the girl’s waist and helped her to her feet. “Come on,” she said softly.

Wren let herself be helped by Frankie, thankful for the support. As they waited for the rest of the group to exit, she looked around for the next plan of action. In the distance over the ridge there was a large military grade cargo truck. It was wheels, which is all they needed. But it’d be safe to assume there weren’t keys left in the ignition. She pursed her lips and thought for a moment before looking back over to Frankie. “You’re smart, right?”


“Uh
 yes?”

“Could you hotwire a car?” Wren asked, nodding her head in the direction of the truck. “I’ll watch your back.”

Frankie’s gaze followed Wren’s toward the truck. After a long moment, she nodded her head slightly. “I can try.”

They both made their way to the truck. As they got closer, Wren slipped herself from Frankie’s grasp and stumbled her way over toward a collection of pallets and wooden crates. At the first box, she shoved the lid off and sifted through the paper shreds but nothing was inside. She continued searching the other crates until she found an AK and
 “Hell yes,” she whispered to herself.

Wren put the gun strap of the Ak over her head, swinging it behind her to free her hands. She then leaned down and grasped the weapon inside. With a groan, she hefted the bazooka from it’s container. With a weapon of that size in her hands and after everything they had been through, she could fight the devious grin that overcame her face. There was only one rocket left, but that was all she needed.

Frankie broke the driver’s side window, and quickly got to work trying to wire the truck. Shortly after she got started a heavy weight in the bed shook the vehicle, causing her to poke her head out the door. She found Wren patting the side of the truck, smiling toward Frankie. “Bazooka,” was all she said with a smile before turning back toward the building and started picking off soldiers one by one with the rifle, covering the others’ backs as they tried to exit.

Frankie’s eyes widened at the comment of a rocket launcher. She’d argue that it wasn’t necessary but there was no time, nor would Wren listen. Instead she focused back at the task at hand, giving the wires a few more strikes until
 The engine began to rumble.

“Yes!” Wren shouted, slapping the side of the truck with her hand.

Frankie could barely contain her excitement as the truck’s engine rumbled. She opened the door and turned towards the others. She stood on the side of the truck with her hands on the door and roof. “Let’s go!!”

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ross mcculloch
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Ross glanced over his shoulder slightly toward Petra as she extended her hand toward his shoulder, touching it softly. But it was brief. Then she quickly withdrew her hand. He sighed softly, letting his gaze fall to his hands but said nothing. Of course, he’d like her to stay but Ross wasn’t dumb and knew when he was asking too much. She was already pissed at him for what he did
 And even more annoyed at his present inebriation, so instead of making it worse, he accepted it.

“If you say so. Go rest. And maybe drink some water to ease the hangover that's waiting for you.” With that, Petra made her way toward the door of his penthouse. With her back toward him, Ross watched her leave. His gaze met hers when she paused at the exit to speak to him one last time. "Ross... I hope you're feeling better soon. See you in the morning.”

He feigned a smile and nodded his head toward her. “Right as rain by morn’,” Ross replied before she left.

Once by himself, Ross sighed softly, slouching back against the arcade game. His right hand rubbed his forehead which his left held his ribs. He should have stayed in the medical wing. With a laugh to himself, he slowly moved to his feet. Lord would he be regretting this in the morning. Morphine and alcohol do not make a good cocktail.

He slowed trudged his way toward his bedroom but barely made it another ten feet. His head started to spin again. So, Ross let himself collapse into a near bean bag chair. The seat quickly enveloped him. Even if he wanted to get up, that wasn’t happening until morning. He was too drunk, too weak and too tired. And before he could attempt again, Ross’ head fell backwards as he passed out where he sat.




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tobias lehnsherr
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“Thank you... You're good at this,” Wynne said toward him as he sifted through the first aid kit. "I suppose you get the opportunity to practice in a place like this? I imagine injuries aren't unfamiliar to you."

Tobias glanced up slightly, looking over at her for a minute with a slight smile. “Actually
 I learned this before coming here,” he admitted as he pulled some tape and gauze from the kit. “But I have given myself a couple stitches since I came to the academy,” he added. Tobias sat there quietly for a long moment as he placed the clean gauze pad against the fresh stitches. His other hand gently taped the bandage in place to keep it clean so that it can heal properly.

After he finished packing everything away and placed the closed kit on the table, he leaned back in the wheel chair. As Tobias shifted, he winced slightly and readjusted how he sat. His hand rested on his abdomen on top of his bandages. “When I was with my father before coming here
” his voice trailed for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to word it. But in the end, he decided not to veil the truth. “Those in the Brotherhood often would return with varying wounds.”

Tobias paused after that statement, looking over at Wynne to gauge her expression. It was risky mentioning the Brotherhood. So many people at the academy already assumed that he was part of the Brotherhood, a spy for his father. And even though that’s why he was sent there, that isn’t why Tobias is at the academy. Hopefully he wouldn’t come to regret speaking of the Brotherhood.

“I helped when my Father made me
 Our abilities are more steady than hands.” As he mentioned his hands he looked down at his hands, moving his fingers around slightly. “Mostly I helped patch up my mother since I was young. She seemed to come home wounded more often than the others.” Tobias sighed softly, looking over at Wynne curious to hear her reaction.