Knife in the Back//The Wren//Open for apps! PM to Tundra

[Verdana]

//Shay//

Mother and daughter sat, side by side and completely expressionless. Not for the first time, Shay wished that she could reverse some of the choices that she had made for her daughter. She would almost have preferred Bree to be a civilian than to have her daughter constantly in the line of fire.
Almost.
She wrapped an arm around Bree's thin shoulders. Her eyes still scanned restlessly, but she tried to focus on her little girl, who wasn't very little any more. She picked Wren members out from the surrounding area, noted their apparent physical condition and bearing. She couldn't help but be remorseful at how few of her assassins remained.

Absently, with one deft hand, she began to braid a lock of her daughter's straight hair. Bree leaned away, like any teenager with delusions of grandeur. Shay ignored this.
How many of your team are still alive, and how many are ready for active duty? she asked, her facial expression giving nothing away.
I've got a contact here, and a place to recuperate. It's only temporary, though. Our final destination is-

It only took a momentary lapse of concentration. One moment she was focused on the surrounding, the next she was correcting a piece of her braid. As she turned away, Kuar shot out of the trees (a good way away from where Bree was looking. Sloppy, girl. Very sloppy) and towards her. Shay felt him, turned around, and only had time to brace herself, protecting her neck and curling her legs, before he cannoned into her.

Shay quickly realised that the attack was not real. Kuar was cradling her as gently as he would a child, and did not allow her to land on the ground. She was profoundly grateful for this. She had cracked three ribs when the building had fallen on her, and was very tender. No, she recognised a game, a sort of secret handshake, when she saw it. Her eyes narrowed.

Two could play at that game.

When she came to a rest her arms were trapped, but this was no setback to the seasoned professional. Her legs arched up and she kicked at his ribs once, twice. She held back, so while the blows would be painful, they would not be lethal. She smirked.
It's not nice to pin down an old woman, Kuar, she whispered, and twisted suddenly, jarringly, nearly dislocating her shoulders, in a usually-effective attempt to get free.

//Bree//

Stupid. So so stupid. Why hadn't she watched the bird-brain disappear? Why hadn't she looked? Because the moment Shay sat down, he went for her like a diving hawk. One moment, Shay was sitting beside her, braiding her hair (as if she was a child! Is that what she wanted all of the assassins to think?) and then she was gone, taking a few hairs from Bree's head with her.

Bree whipped around. She had not had a good few days. Her nerves were frazzled. As a result, the first thing that came out of her mouth was:
Amaer!
which translated roughly to 'Mummy' in Sylvan.
As soon as she blurted out the word, Bree clamped her hand over her mouth. She hardly ever called her mother anything but 'commander' any more. The only time she slipped was when she was badly wounded or very sick. Even though she knew most of the assassins wouldn't know the word, she was mortified.

Without any pause, her hand went instinctively to her gun, although she only registered drawing it when her mother had landed. She flicked up the safety, aimed at the bird:
Hold fire! she barked, instantly discovering a flaw. She couldn't hit the bird. Those wings were whirling about. They didn't look thick enough to withstand a bullet. A shot could easily end up in Shay.
She cursed.
Hold fire! she yelled out again.
You'll hit the Commander.

She figured that Shay had some time. The old warrior was tough as nails and could hold her own, after all.

Get into close range. Then kill the bird.

[Mystic]

||Surreal||

I wasn't exactly surprised. Everyone had dropped to the ground with an unmistakable thud, their bodies in weird to.. funny positions. One adult's rump was in the air, while their arms were sprawled out around them. I could feel a reluctant chuckle bubble from my throat, the soft trickle of laughter from my mouth easing my mood. Though, it didn't get rid of the tense atmosphere that occupied the now silent park. It was stressing, it felt like the silence was pressing down on me. I didn't like it. I almost bellowed a silly, unprofessional word to break the silence, to break the tension. It was unbearable.
As I was just about to snap, to follow my impulse, some of The Wren members started to chatter, uttering soft words to each other. It helped, and made me visibly relax. It made my piercing grey eyes wander around the large play area, taking in each Wren members with curiosity. There wasn't much of them here. It was pitiful, and just reminded me of what we had lost, all the hard work, all the sacrifices. I wouldn't- couldn't dwell on it. It just made my blood boil with the hope of revenge.
Suddenly, I heard the soft whistle of air and a gentle thud. This made me jerk from my position against the large oak, my hand instinctively reaching towards my boot to slip my deadly stiletto out of it's thin sheathe. My hand tightly grasped the long dangerous knife, yanking it out as silently as I could manage. My eyes were currently scanning the scene before me, evaluating the situation. It appeared that a bird/man hybrid had lunged from one of the trees and dive in on Shay, tackling her to the ground. Was that a.. tail? I had never seen a creature like it.
Apparently, it wasn't very intelligent. It had skidded onto it's back, so Shay was facing the sky. It would give him less of a chance to escape. But it would also be hard to get to him, since Shay was in the way. It didn't stop me from advancing on it though. I quickly limped towards the pile of beings, scrambling to get over fast enough. Curse my ankle!

[Tordier]

(( Gah... School has kept me rather busy lately. But... I suppose it's about time to throw a post together, eh? So sorry. ^^; Things are settling down a bit for me so hopefully I'll be able to be... Active. ))

The Rogue
Cass
It was quiet, but not boring. Cass liked the quiet. From his station in a second-story window just across the street, he could easily observe the goings-on below him. The others seemed to be quite tense, according to the conversation that he silently listened to, feeling no need to chime in himself. All his equipment was ready for action. The blowgun was gripped loosely in one hand and a very small box sat open on a dusty shelf right beside him. That box was reminiscent of a tackle-box used by fishermen, but its contents were not so innocent. An array of pre-prepared darts had been carefully organized in the compartments, allowing for fast re-loading. The blurr planned to stay hidden here, and silently pick off enemies, should things get out of hand. His carefully-selected hiding spot allowed for clear shots and the perfect sort of range that he was used to. It was just a bit on the longer side, of course, but 300 years of experience tends to give one a bit of an edge with these things.
Despite the tense atmosphere, Cass was surprisingly calm, as he always was. He had been in these types of situations before and knew how to handle himself, which was vital if things were to go smoothly. That, of course, was not the case this time. The blowgun was at his lips in an instant, but even that speed was not fast enough. What on earth was Kuar doing?! The mere sight of movement was what caused Cass to jump to the ready, but the demon was moving far too quickly. By the time he was ready to take a shot, Kuar had already tackled Shay. The blurr narrowed his eyes and prepared to take a shot, but two things stopped him from firing. The first was Bree's urgent command to hold fire. That annoyed Cass slightly. He was well-known for his incredible aim. Even from this distance, he thought he could manage to take out Kuar without harming Shay. However, he no longer had a desire to fire darts at the winged creature. What at first appeared to be an attack seemed to have dissolved into a very over-exuberant greeting. It was a very odd thing to do, but not a dangerous one.



Banshee
Kinta McGregor
Kinta had squeezed herself underneath a car and watched the scene play out in front of her. She hoped, prayed even, that something would go wrong. It had been too long since she had gotten to spill blood and she craved to hear that glorious sound of metal grinding on bone. This longing was costing her in attentiveness. Banshee's mind kept wandering off to past murders and sadistic fantasies and she waited for what seemed to be an eternity. That was the reason that she did not catch the action until too late. Her mind was jolted back to reality by Bree commanding the team not to shoot, and behold her eyes focused in on that troublesome Kuar barreling into Shay. Kinta swore under her breath, frustrated by the idea of a lost opportunity to injure a living thing and squirmed out from under the car. Forget stealth. She had been ordered to hold fire, sure, but one does not fire blades. Therefore, it was logical to assume that a close-range attack would be acceptable. A sick, sadistic smirk plastered her face as she streaked forward with a short, two-foot blade in one hand, raised to strike.
Kinta noticed another hurrying over to engage in combat, some girl with a limp, but took no notice of them other than to make note that they were closer than she was. She increased her speed, desperate to arrive first and claim the kill for her own.

[blue_dun]

What was everyone freaking out about? Sheesh, even Bree was up, her trigger ready to be pulled. And more and more assassins were cautiously creeping forward to attack. For the life of him, Joel could not understand their motives. Had he been the only one listening to the conversation between Bree and Nightingale on the plane? Did anyone else see the sly, sarcastic smile even now plastered on Nightingale's face? How Shay now had the upper hand in the fight? How none of the blows weren't even attempts to be lethal? It was all too clear to Joel that this was a reunion- or maybe a friendly- gesture. Like his meeting with Burr just an eyeblink- or so it seemed- ago. Burr's first shot to his shoulder hadn't been meant to kill him for a reason.
It must not be so obvious to the others. Joel thought, puzzled. It was obvious to me from the beginning... Taking a second to ponder his next move, he finally decided to be lazy and not as much as flinch. Oh, let them fight. Look, they'll pry them apart and find out that this was only a training excercise... Both Shay and Nightingale will come out of this in pain, but with no major injuries.
Maybe everyone was just jumpy. After all, many of the Wren had been taken out only twelve hours before. Nobody was going to risk another fatality. Especially not the commander. She had led them through their toughest times, and had always come out on top. Bree wasn't going to stand around and let her already-weakened mother be finished off.
This was going to end very interestingly, that was the one thing for sure.

[SpartanAmethyst]

Amethyst was just about to answer Misty when she heard the commotion with Kuar, Bree, and the Commander. She gave an almost animalistic snarl and climbed off of the stone wall, seeming to stalk closer. Her harsh blue eyes analyzed the situation; granted the bird-thing made her nervous, but this just didn't seem right. At least that's what Amethyst's gut was telling her. And Amethyst always tried to go by her gut feeling. But at the same time, she couldn't deny an order. She kept a slight distance, seeming to watch and wait, taking one step forward, then going backwards again. She huffed. The blurr of feathers was confusing, and she watched the commander for any sign of new injury. The tensity in the park was tangible.... She shifted uneasily, moving her weight to the front of her feet so she could take off at a seconds' notice.

[Mystic]

||Surreal||

I knew a challenge when I saw it.
At the corner of my eye, I could just see a distinctive shape making it's way up to me. As it came into view, I could see that this was another Wren member, one that I didn't know very well. I could see the determined, almost desperate gleam in her eye. One would think this was to get to the commander, to save her from that.. thing. But I could see the competitive, sadistic streak in her movements, in her gaze. It was almost frightening, but I wasn't one to back down from a challenge.
I pummeled forward now, taking no notice to my aching ankle as my feet picked up the pace. I wouldn't lose. I wouldn't let this girl have the pleasure of beating me, no matter what. It wasn't exactly me who wanted to come out on top. It was my instincts that drove me forward. I didn't know if it was because I was a 'shifter, or if it was my own competitive nature. Either way, she would not win.
Thundering forward, my ankle nearly about to buckle from the pressure of my foot smacking the ground, I was just about there. But.. I stopped. I had had time to study this new threat, and the way Shay was acting about him. From a distance, it had seemed they were really fighting, but now that I was up close, I could see that they were.. playing. Was that even possible? I saw the almost gleeful smile smile planted on the bird thing's lips, the playful gleam that lit up it's eyes.
I could feel my arm fall to my side, my grip on my stiletto tightening with frustration before I bent down to sheathe it. I should have been more careful. We might need the creature, and it was obvious Shay knew him quite well. I could have hurt him.

[Derelict Draught]

The cross hairs rest just above the girl's left breast. The eye on the other side adjusts the sights to keep the cross hair's centered with each movement...Beyond the optics device, the robed figure blends perfectly with his surroundings. Nothing stood out enough to catch a wandering eye, the telescope was even shaded to prevent a glare. All the precaution was unnecessary though. The robed figure was far enough away that the assassins, with their heightened senses, would be unable to spy him.

A silent chant slips over his lips as he watches the assassins convene in the distance. His instructions had been simple and glaringly clear. No matter the cost unto himself. His master had chosen the means. Had demanded the sacrifice to prevent the anticipate betrayal. With each word to slip harmlessly through his mind, the power swelled within him.

Beyond, at the focus of his site, the playground sprung to life once more. A fight broke out among the individuals. The woman dropped from his cross hair. In her place, her daughter jumped to her feet, weapon raised. Desperately, the robed figure tries to redirect the casting but its too late. The energy slips free of his body, surging towards the vengeful youth.

------

// I suck at charades... \\

Jessica stares at the behemoth utterly dumbfounded. How could such a brute be such...such a pansy! She averted her eyes from the man as he finally mustered the courage to cease his cowering. She didn't want to startle him again. Him running away in terror would only mean more of a headache for her. Thankfully he began to walk forward, words flowing off his tongue as he struggled to interpret her.

A soft giggle welled up within her. She couldn't help herself. His accent amused her almost as his obvious misunderstanding. He must not have had much social development as a child...Though he seemed not to have breached his youthful mind. Her amusement painted her face as he continued to draw farther from the intended message. Even with the set back, she wished to encourage him to continue. She hadn't had a healthy conversation in years. Men were always distracted by her beauty while women despised her.

Allowing herself the comfort of a seat, she leans her head against the seat in front of her. Calmly her eyes studied the man. He was humanoid. No extra appendages. Body seemed to mock the human form perfectly yet there were differences. She suspected some form of vampirism comprised the man from birth. His eyes held the spark of intelligence she found lacking in so many others and his face was rather...rugged.

"Mmmph mmm. Mm mmm."

Why did she do that? What did she think was going to happen? That the tape would mysteriously disappear? Her eyes drift to his blue-black gaze with a heavy sigh. She hoped he would keep talking. That the conversation would continue. He seemed far more amiable than Shaygrin did. Speaking of that, her head still hurt. That woman knew how to hit.

Sudden motion outside stole her gaze. The fight between the bird monkey and Shaygrin bore no importance to her. No...Her gaze lay several feet away...She had no time to react. Reality and reaction time were closely paced. The outcome inevitable. Squeezing her eyes shut, the undine throws her body at the bulk as the bus is thrown about them.

// Such a strange land... \\

Federal agents swarmed the small landing strip, each bearing an automatic weapon with a fresh clip and several spares spread about their bodies. The men scrambled into their positions, each preparing their weapons and each anxious for action. They were taking a great risk bringing this man in. The plane had given the all clear and assured the strip's overseeing officer that Taylor was still secure but the man wasn't about to take any risks. Not with this heathen.

The aircraft bumps down onto the strip pausing midway down the track before inching forward the final few feet and settling into the ambush. An unnerving silence settles over the strip as the plane continues to sit. Several minutes pass before cursing and shouts within the aircraft break the peace. The loading ramp of the aircraft drops and a lone man steps out of the vehicle, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight.

The man's shirt was stained a dark red and bore numerous rips where the cloth caught on one thing or another as he'd moved about. Tears in the fabric exposed countless cuts, scrapes and bandages as well as old scars carved by a life since left behind. The man's foot settled on the concrete long before he noticed the steel barrels aimed at him. With a faint wave he acknowledged the men.

"Bloody wanker's spilled me wine."

The agents make no move. They await the order to fire. Watching the man, their fingers twitching in response to his history. They could end the chaos now. One bullet. One bullet and every officer who died in Switzerland would be avenged. Only one...

"Bloody idiot then tried to clean et out with hand soap. HAND SOAP! There was a bottle of seltzer sitting right there!"

The man shakes his head in dejection. He couldn't believe that nitwit. He hoped they took all day to clean the lousy stain out of their precious jet. They deserved it. Every last one of the jerks.

"Down to business then. Where's the CO of this task force? If he wants to stop this night scare from becoming a full blown nightmare, we'd best get a move on."

------

High above the playground, a drone glides silently through the sky. The photo-reactive plating lining the bottom of the craft shimmers slightly as the sky above dims. The thermal imaging provides the drone's operator a constant feed of the gathering's activities. Even as the operator watches the heat signatures dance about the area a separate program scans for the target.

A fight breaks out on the ground far below the craft. Two of the signatures as well as a number of would be saviors. A beep from the console announces the target's appearance. A magnified image of the gun appears on the screen. Scorpion. A single key stroke confirms the identification and engages the attack protocol.

Final launch procedures pass within billionths of a second. A concealed bay door on the underside of the Predator open allowing the missile contained within to drop free. The drone's underside flashes orange as the missile's boosters ignite, hurling the weapon at the intended target.

Behind the console, the operator leans back and watches the show. The drone was beyond the range of small arms, unless the group packed a Javelin the craft would be safe. The missile used a built in guidance system that would chase down the target no matter where the girl ran. Whatever reason Templar wanted the girl for, the world would be better off with her destroyed.

-----

The world seems to slow as the invisible races the visible. Each bound for a single soul. For the unfortunate girl there would be no escape. The missile arrives first, plowing into the weapon Bree so cherished. The clash of metal on metal screams about the playground, instantly followed by a concussive force equivalent to that of several C4 charges. The wall of air crashes into the side of the bus across the way, lifting and dropping the vehicle onto its side and hurling the contents about as though they were mere pebbles.

A screen of dirt, grime and smoke erupt from the impact site, consuming the the entirety of the playground. The filthy air clings to every surface as the dust begins to settle. All that remained of the girl were two pieces of metal to which she had clung dearly. The halves of Scorpion were scattered. Each lying distant from the impact site and each buried deep into the ground where they'd struck. Bree Syncrame was lost to the world...

-----

A robed figure leans over the girl staring into her face. The man was standing on soft white sands of a sunny beach. Not far from where the girl lay, an imp sits sharpening a stone spear, muttering in some undecipherable language as he whittles away at the point of the weapon. The figure's face was pale, the color draining more with each passing moment. The girl seemed to have suffered a few severe injuries from his spell. Either that or she'd let a bomb go off in her hands, cuts and burns adorned her arms and she lacked her weapon.

Crouching beside the girl, the figure begins to mutter in a language lost to the world. His eyes shut as he pulls back his hood. The sunlight revealed the pale appearance of his face to be the true tone of his body. His eyes were large with massive pupils. His ears narrowed to a sharp point mirrored by the razor tips of his teeth. A soft whimper escapes the man as he stares down at the sand below.

"I am Betrayal."

With sudden vigor, the imp lunges from the warm perch upon the stone and hurls the make shift weapon at the pair of figures. The projectile falls short, causing a stream of curses to screech forth from the imp as the creature hurriedly attempts to create another. Ignoring the vengeful creature, the man speaks in the foreign tongue once more before rising to his feet.

"Forgive me. I had no other choice..."

Satisfied with the new weapon, the imp charges forward. The weapon brandished at the seemingly vulnerable girl. But feet away, the imp hurls itself into the air, bloodlust filling the creatures eyes. The air around the girl shifts, stealing her away from the plane of existence once more and leaving the imp hurtling towards the sand, spear first. The wooden shaft tears through the creature, trapping and mortally wounding the wretch. Ignoring the creature's fervent cursing, the night elf raises a hand summoning a bloody boulder which the pair so fondly remembered and dropping the stone which claimed the imp's brother upon the imp itself.

-----

The air shimmers within the dungeon before the girl drops from the air. Good. The elf's debts were paid. Looking to the side, Malicia's messenger lay in a crumpled pile. The energy required to draw the girl back across the planes of existence proved too much for a human body to withstand and as such a sacrifice was necessary. Now Malicia's debt had been paid. For now at least...

Templar remains perfectly still as he studies the girl. She bore her mother's appearance well. She'd taken great care in building herself to take up her mother's legacy. She appeared damaged though. No doubt some betrayal on Malicia's part. Would that woman ever learn? Perhaps. If not, she'd been dead soon enough. A gently sway of his hand invites his 'guest' to take a seat. The chair pro-offered no longer bore the many straps and chains which Malberry managed to slip through in the Middle East, his blood did still stain the wood though.

[blue_dun]

Joel had been right, but, this wasn't exactly the way he had anticipated it to happen.
He was only given a mere second to sprint across the clearing and dive behind a nearby oak, thick and tall, before the missile hit. His eyes only caught a glimpse of the powerful projectile before it hit but that had been enough. Also, the fact that he had chosen to do nothing and not put himself closer to the site of impact had saved his life.
The only thing he regretted was not covering his mouth. The smoke choked him and he was still coughing as he staggered to his feet again. Peeking around the tree and the streak of green where the wood had blocked the fire he whistled as he realized he had been saved by his inanimate shield. The ground right up to the tree was very severely burned, and half the oak itself was burned almost all the way through. If the bomb had been only a little bigger, he would have been toast.
Turning his attentions back to the field of destruction, he bit his lip. The bus was overturned. Probably Ty was very battered and bruised, if not dead. He was the only one left in there to Joel's knowledge. The playground was in shambles and the broken, battered bodies of dead kids and moms lay helter-skelter everywhere. They had chosen a bad day to be at the park.
But then... His eyes went to the place where Shay, Bree, and Nightingale had been. Warily, worriedly, he sprinted over. Please, let none of them be dead. There was The winged man. Then Shay. But Bree... Seemed to have stepped out of existence. Joel's eyes scanned the area for any sign of the younger Assassin. But she was nowhere to be found.
Spinning around, he began to search for the bodies of his teammates. There was only one place where he knew there would be someone. The bus. He hurried there as fast as he could, and jumped up on the side- now the top- of the shambly vehicle. Stomping on the side doors to loosen them, he then took his good arm and with a Herculean effort, pulled the doors open. "Ty?" He called through the darkness. Heaven forbid he would be on the wall closest to the blast.

[Derelict Draught]

((Bree and the robed figure are in an alternate plane of existence. She is just flat out gone from the playground.))

((Gracias))

[blue_dun]

((Alright. Gotcha. Will fix.))

((De Nada. No problem. Lol, I completely missed the phrase 'Bree Syncrame was lost to the world...' Must have read it over too fast.))