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

[Mystic]

||Surreal||

Hearing the soft whisper of Cass, Surreal's dreary gaze darted to the being beside her, caution and bewilderment in her stormy grey gaze. At first, she couldn't register what was beside her, only seeing a foggy shadow that constantly changed and shifted. It was unnerving for her, and it took a minute of rapidly blinking for her to adjust her sight. As her eyes began to take in what was being offered, she stared at the arm so blatantly it would have been rude if they didn't know how much she was against being helped. She was too stubborn and self dependent to take it. It wasn't really about her ego, so much as her child hood.

Though, looking at the man's arm she knew she needed the help. And surprisingly, it didn't offend her. Gently beating her wings, she boosted herself up onto Cass's sturdy arm, clasping her talons around his flesh as gently as she could. No one appreciated an eagle's talons jabbing their skin. Nodding her appreciation to the male, she climbed up to his shoulder, which was much stronger and easier to grip onto. As soon as she was steady enough, she shuffled her sore wings until they were neatly tucked against her sides. It mustered quite a lot of dirt from her, but she managed to avoid breathing it in.

At the sudden shriek of Shay, Surreal's head flung up in surprise, expecting to see a threat.. but all she could see was a distressed mother, desperate for her child. Sorrow and guilt clouded her mind as she studied Shay, obviously stricken by fear. Not for herself, but for Bree. Surreal couldn't help but think she could have done something about it. She had been close enough, she could have figured out a way to keep this from happening.. somehow. Shaking the thought from her mind, Surreal turned her gaze towards the playground just as Shay headed for the bus. She didn't want to dwell on sorrow.

Her cloudy eyes didn't stay on the remnants of the deathly scene though. They soon made their way to that winged creature, the one who had been playing with Shay earlier. He was coming towards them, meaning to do something of course. At first, she was suspicious. Shifting and moving upon Cass's shoulder, she was edgy. She didn't like that thing. Didn't trust it. Though she stood still when it came closer to heal them. He can do magic too.. great.. She thought, blatantly making a show of her beak and talons. Only when he moved away to the next injured person did she loosen up and rested herself against Cass's shoulder. She was starting to feel light headed, one of the many side effects of changing forms. Luckily she had a shoulder to perch on, otherwise she would still be laying in the debris of the playground.

[Tordier]

Banshee
Kinta McGregor
It seemed as if Kinta was completely oblivious to her surroundings. She did not take notice of anyone around her, and did not even flinch at Shay's yelling. The entire world consisted of herself, sitting on the grass, picking at her superficial wounds and dropping little bits of things into the grass.
Only when she ran out of things to remove from her skin did she snap back into reality from her trance-like state. Slowly, shakily, Kinta rose to her feet. She swayed a little, and lurched forward, before finally finding her balance. Apparently she was not quite as well off as she had first thought, but shock does that sort of thing.
After waiting a moment to be sure that her legs would not give out, she was ready to move, but where? It was obviously too late to kill Kuar, much to her disappointment. That bloodlust still ran through her veins, making her hungry for murder. There had to be something around here that no one would miss. The only thing that Kinta could think of was the prisoner that was supposed to be in that mangled bus. Oh, the prisoner was important alright, but if they happened to be severely injured, she might be able to get away with 'putting them out of their misery', so to speak. She was sure she could do it in a way that no one would be suspicious of.
A slight, maddened gleam danced in her eyes as she crept towards the bus with a slight limp. At the very least, there would be much blood to gaze upon. Red had always been one of her very favorite colors...



The Rogue
Cass
He could not quite completely suppress a smile as Surreal accepted his more or less unspoken offer and eventually settled on his shoulder. So young, she was. It always excited him to see a child beginning to understand the rules of the world. Of course, there may have been other reasons for her to so readily accept his help, but the Blurr was still glad that she had taken this step towards realizing the nature of pride, and that it must be set aside at times. The eagle's talons were quite powerful and sharp. He felt that easily, but it did not cause him pain. The leather he preferred to wear under his cloak was sufficient protection from such things.
Cass felt a sudden pain deep within him, in sympathy for Shay, the moment he heard her distressed voice. It seemed Bree was missing. That was bound to stir up some action, which he was not looking forward to, but to say that he was not worried about Bree as well would have been a lie.
The Rogue kept a cautious eye on Kuar as he made his rounds, and was relieved at it, in a way. Cass was not a bad healer. On the contrary, living for hundreds of years tends to give one enough time to master several skills, but all the blurr had was travel-sized medical kit. Whatever magic Kuar was using was surely far more efficient than anything he could have done himself.
However, Surreal seemed less than at ease with Kuar's actions. That was understandable. Cass himself still did not know quite what to make of Kuar either, but healing the team was not a bad thing, and so he was alright with it.
Seeing as there was no more to be done here, he made his way towards the place where Shay was standing. The Blurr did not approach very closely, preferring to stay a few yards off, but he did offer his leader a single nod. That was all that was necessary. Cass simply wanted her to know that he was completely at her service, and ready to follow orders at a moment's notice.
He looked oddly elegant there, misty and dark with his cloak swirling around his feet in the breeze, calm and unmoving. The eagle was a nice touch. It was difficult to say if had planned it or if it was just coincidence, but the black-clothed blurr was an inspirational sight, in the way that something can be inspiratonal if you look at it for a few moments and are able to truly appreciate it on some level.

[Derelict Draught]

The halls ran on and on, each room seeming identical to the last...Then an abrupt change. The building seemed to be structured in a manner similar to a giant maze, forcing any occupant to spend their time and energy attempting to enter and exhausting them well before they posed a threat to the inhabitant. The sudden change appeared as blaring as the difference between night and day. The architecture ceased to follow the traditions of 16th century cutters in favor of a more modern approach.

The rooms grew larger, housing more and larger weapons until, finally, the Knight guiding him stopped. The room existed deep in the reaches of the castle and even if Taylor intended to keep his bearings the constant turning through pitch black halls ensured the passerby would be utterly confused. Lost in the chambers of war.

As it was, Taylor and his guide stood in the midst of an armory dating back to the Second World War. Outdated tanks and artillery occupied the open floor space of the room, making passage difficult. The Knight gestures for Taylor to pass through a small doorway off the side of the room partially blocked off by an old Russian T-90. The two take seats at either end of a table surrounded by crates filled with explosives.

"This facility is not far from a tourist trap. My employer wishes to scare them away on a permanent basis through the use of these explosives. We need your expertise to deliver the maximum effect with minimal casualties. We are not asking your assistance, rather we are investing your life in this project."

Rising without waiting for an answer, the Knight starts passed the tank. "Do not leave this room. All of the information you will need is in the chest behind you. You have one hour." Then he was gone, leaving Taylor alone in a room filled with explosives.

Not more than a minute after the Knight departed, Taylor left to explore. He had roughly 30 minutes before he needed to even glance at the maps. He only needed ten to find the hidden stairwell.

[Verdana]

//In the Wreckage//

Shaygrin could barely bear to listen to Kuar, but she knew that he wasn't wrong. They had to leave. Several mothers and a handful of children were injured. Some may have been more far gone than merely 'wounded'. Shaygrin wasn't going to risk putting her footprints near them to check. Kuar knew what he was talking about. If they were caught, the excrement would hit the fan, and so would end Shaygrin Syncrame's illustrious career. Centuries of work, erased in a heartbeat.

They had to leave, and Shaygrin thought that knew where to take them.

But...

Bree.

If she left, Bree would not be able to find them, find her. She couldn't do that. She told herself that Bree couldn't be dead. As her mother, Shay would know. Since she didn't know, Bree wasn't dead. That was just the way things were. She couldn't conceive of anything else. Her assassins would go. She would stay and wait.

And be picked off by their enemies.

She pushed this to the back of her mind. She couldn't think about it. She headed inside the bus.

Meanwhile, in the tin box, Ty felt wetness on his chest. He wasn't sure what was going on, at first. He suspected that he may have been bleeding. It was when he was looking down to check that he remembered the girl, and registered her presence in his arms.
Oh! he cried, astonished, aghast. She was crying. Ty didn't know what to do about crying. Neither of his female family members ever cried. Not in his presence, at least. He vaguely remembered Velia weeping as a child. What had he done then? He wracked his brain, but couldn't remember. He felt very guilty. He suspected that he had done this. Ty didn't do things. Not in real life. He was background noise.

He had to do something!

Awkwardly, he patted her shoulder with one of his massive mitts. This didn't seem to be working. He was nearing panic when his mother appeared.

Shaygrin took in the wreckage in a glance. She noticed her son (standing, apparently unwounded) and the girl in his arms. She felt a surge of hatred for the little devil. How dare she! She'd caused all of this hell. But then she saw the tears, and instantly the girl was just that, a girl. She was scared and alone and if this had been Bree, who was probably also very scared and very alone, Shay would have wanted someone to care. She didn't think. She acted on impulse.

She stepped forward, and wrapped both blonde woman and as much of her son as she could reach into a tight hug.

Whispering soothing sounds to both of them, she gentled and quieted, blinking back her own tears. Later. She could do that later. She smoothed the captive's hair and rubbed Ty's back.

By the time she withdrew, she was a commander again and any trace of emotion or weakness was gone.

Ty, if this bus isn't able to travel, make it that way in the next ten minutes.

We're going to the airport.

It broke her heart to say it.

//Bree//

It took Bree all of two strides to understand that someone truly twisted and deranged had been to work in the room. Every time she took a step, a trap was sprung. Bree was not known as 'the best' for nothing. She dodged flawlessly, with great grace and skill, and not a little bit of smugness. She skipped away from a net, dodged a glue-like substance as it rained down above, and made a beeline for the door.

She got there, too, without mishap. In fact, she was feeling pretty good about herself. Fresh out of catastrophe, and still as sharp as a-

Whoosh!

Something caught around her ankle, and yanked her upside down. She was very glad that her clothes fitted tightly. She cursed, looking up to see a taut rope.

The 'rope around the ankle' trick. She couldn't believe it. She'd been caught by the oldest trick in the book! Cursing with great flavour, she flailed and wriggled, trying to get her hands around the rope. She may have been able to, too, but then she heard footsteps. Helpless and red-faced, she dangled above the floor, waiting for whatever punishment she would receive.

[.skycat.]

((I should be on occasionally this week, as many times as I can be able to find WiFi. I'm bursting with creative energy, too ))

"Not yet. But at the same time, my eyes haven't gotten used to the darkness yet." It took all of Joel's will not to start yelling at this girl. It was so obvious, though, that the rising tide of anger and outrage brewing within him was trying with all its might to break free. Every muscle on Joel's body was trembling, tighter than a wound spring. And for once, he didn't care about how he looked in front of this girl.
Finally he could take it no more and he suddenly punched the bus, leaving a. Clear fistprint in the smooth metal. Godd*mn it. If even another assassin died today he would never be able to forgive himself. "Ty?" he called again, and dropped down into the dimly-lit interior of the bus. He landed, cat-like, on a pole, legs crunched underneath him. "I really hope I don't have to clean up your guts."

Mizuko "Misty" Velaiha
Slightly taken aback at his anger, Misty took a step back. She never liked being in the way, having nothing useful to do other than stand to the side. It wasn't until she heard Commander Shay shrieking for Bree did she tear her eyes away from the bus and Joel. It was a terrible sound- a mother searching desperately for a child that clearly wasn't there- and it made her wince at the realization that Bree really wasn't there. Did the missile hit her? Is she dead? If she's dead, what's her team going to do? Where is she if she's not dead? Is she injured? She shook her head and tore her attention back to the present, and away from any unpleasant thoughts. They wouldn't help anyone at the moment. She heard the Commander talking to Ty inside the bus. Something about an airport. Were they leaving again? Misty sighed quietly and looked around again. At least everyone had been healed now... Though some of them would definitely have scars- either physically or mentally. She brought her gaze back to the bus and Joel, still feeling utterly useless.

Legial "Violet" Lylis
By the time that creature came over to try and heal them, Violet had already closed most of the cuts. Of course, she was still light headed and confused by the concussion she had gotten from hitting her head- but there wasn't much anyone could do about that. So she simply stood up and leaned against the tree, after pulled her torn cloak around her, and watched as everyone else moved about. Shay had run to the bus, as well as some other people. Still no Bree. Violet eyes scanned the surrounding area, finding nothing but other Wren members and the scattered bodies of the unfortunate victims who were enjoying a day at the park. That's what they get for enjoyment. she thought bitterly, then pulled herself forward. There was no use of simply standing around- even if it was still rather sunny out. There was work to be done and no one else would be doing it for her.

[Tordier]

Banshee
Kinta McGregor
A very deflated Kinta hovered nearby like a stray dog just waiting for its turn to feed off some rotten carcass. Her cold, steely gaze was locked on Shay, who had gotten to the prisoner first and seemed to be comforting her. That was a problem. It was likely that Shay would, in fact, care if the prisoner died. Thus, Kinta stayed back a ways, waiting for Shay to lose interest before moving in.
Once that happened, the Banshee could not entirely suppress that gleam in her eye as she drifted forwards. Without bothering to alter her gaze from her prey, Kinta spoke softly and with purpose as she passed in front of Shay.
"I'll watch the prisoner."
The bloodlust was so strong now that it took a considerable effort to pry her mind from the idea of creating a deep, slice through that defenseless throat and watch the blood bubble forth and splatter... Kinta shook her head and shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind. There would be time enough for fantasizing at a later date. For now, she applied a vice-like grip to the prisoner-girl's upper arm and offered a hollow, maddened smile, making sure to show lots of teeth. If she was weak enough to start sobbing all over the place, she would surely get an amusing reaction by allowing some of the hunger to shine through.
It was demeaning, in a way, to be left to sneaking about, plotting to pick off the less necessary of persons, but Kinta had gone just a little too long, and a had gotten just a little to close recently, to her passion. That glorious obsession with dealing death. It was her only reason to continue living, and that is why she allowed herself to stoop to such levels. It was just that important.

[Pandle]

Vlad Tepés

The apparition overshadowed the cerulean shoreline
reigning in a solar gaze unspeakably similar to spring
as light frescoed voodoo on the vanilla wind...

Perpetuity; softly spoken gravity and terra-cotta compulsion
flared in the all-encompassing silence of a photonic eclipse
that tastes like bordeaux cherries and tangerines
screaming into the sun...

mahogany sanscrit on Israeli veils blew through Babylon for a time
and crowded the synagogue at the seat of Moriah with revelators
chanting in ubiquitous prolongation...

hauntingly insistent...

...that seaside lips and lapis lazuli are synonymous with Shangri la
while hanging hexahydric gardens of florae can indeed blossom
in burgundy...

...repeating in ceaseless algorithmic sequence that Elysian palettes
can soar on a static dawn despite the stark white shell of oblivion...

Proving that a hymn can breathe in binary code.

...

As an imprint in digital deja-vu
the interminable echo of mythology
whispers with unparallelled verse...

and refrains.

wrapped in one flashing light
that reposed in requiem.
Still the words spin inside the empty sac of my brain. It has long begun to make my head hurt, but I have forgotten to say "stop it" and "no more" so the cycle begins once more, as it always has done. My lips move a fraction to recite the words so well developed to me now.
Today is just another day in the half world, the flickered dim of existance that is mine. Nothing new or old, no Shaygrin still. No Ty. No fantasy tales of adventure with death barking at our heels, no oozing cess pits to chase us or waltz to dance to. Not a whisper of her name anywhere but Earth.

And I cannot travel there.

"Oh but you should," Amaya's face lifts from my chest, the wrinkles of her aged skin folding over the once angelic carving of elegence and beauty.
"And leave you here?"
"Perhaps it would be best..." In the quiet of our singing fire we share a solumn gaze "you never gave yourself to me as you did to her Vlad, go to her, find her. At least to say you miss her."
Amaya's cheekbones work, the cancerous buldge concealed beneath a small scarf around her neck. Her sunken eyes plead with me but it is the trembling of her lips that pursade me to go.
"You'll be alright?"
"No one will hurt me here Vlad, go."
My face leans down, meets with her's, shares for the briefest of seconds a final kiss. And then nothing. As I flit away her last words sink into my skull with a flare that signs the hunting of Shaygrin;
"You do not watch loyal donkies die, you let them roam away and go in piece."
The sacrifise of one beloved, loyal child for the passion of my youth, the soul of my existance.

Shaygrin.

....
Earth. Insanely loud with racing metal boxes and screaming infidels. It is already like being reunited with the Butterfly Empress. Admist the creeking wind with its billows of smoke comes the distinct flavour of blood and death, but most impressive on the landscape is the broken bus, a crispy shell that should never move again. Except the figure bent inside its belly is my son, the giant propotions of his body distint even at a distance. And where there is Ty there will be Shaygrin.

I my feet move with haste toward the bus, toward family -what a disgusting word- the interlectual genious of my creation!
"Ty!" Boy feels more at home upon my tongue and the foriegn word is strange, unwelcome to my pallet, but I must make contact with the lad, he is of my own image. "Boy, good to see you! What pickle are you suffering from now?"
And there, centuries of lost communication evaporated.

[Derelict Draught]

// Running of the rails... \\

Confusion ran amok. Each moment seemed to exacerbate the situation as the tone continued to sway like a vulture riding a thermal. Everyone just seemed the victim of circumstance. The mourning mother, the deceased toddler and the dazed assassins. The prisoner could not help but succumb to the madness about her. Her captors turned comforter.

Maybe she'd hit her head. Possibly, after all they were thrown about the interior of the bus but...The hulk of a vampire whom she clung to so tightly gently patted her back, an awkward and surprisingly effective means of comforting her. She'd almost forgotten her reason for crying, the need to get close to him. Just as she prepared to make her move another presence wrapped about them.

Her window of opportunity had been interrupted, stolen by the presence behind her. Despite herself, she couldn't help but let the gentle gesture and the soft words sway her. The tension and despair wracking her nerves and body seemed to dim, replaced by a sense of longing. Something about the group seemed...familiar. Almost as though she'd found a place of belonging that even her own people failed to stir. And...she desired the feeling to last.

Finally she was released, allowed to stand free she managed to turn and face the matron. There stood the Commander of the Wren, Shaygrin Syncrame, any trace of the gentle heart hidden beneath her duty. Jessica couldn't help but wonder how much of Shaygrin's actions were performance and how much had been her true nature.

Orders command the survivors into their positions. A volunteer stepped up from the group requesting guard duty. She recognized the volunteer or rather the weapon. The girl had earned the nickname of Butcher at the station, not because she used a cleaver or anything so blatantly sensationalist, because she killed for the thrill. Her cuts appeared wild, intended not to kill but rather to maim her victims.

Butcher was the perfect guard for Jessica to elude. Though she was female the other woman would be susceptible to suggestion a manner more convenient: Rage. Not knowing the metal which bound her nor the technology within, the only hope of escape lay in tricking another to break her bonds. That or raising a need for her to be unbound. So as the others scrambled, Jessica watched her would be assailant patiently.

// See how the Pendulum Sways \\

One did not need to be brilliant to understand that a secret stair case led to a secret room or, in this case, cave. In the nature of being a secret cave, Taylor could only assume that for a secret cave to remain secret wanderers, such as himself, were most definitely unwelcome. For that reason he ducked into a cove as a set of footsteps echoed towards him.

Countless traps sprung in the runner's wake, leaving a trail of disarray behind her. A mechanism readied as she advanced, as though each of the minor traps served as cogs in a much larger machine. Then the creation struck. In a truly comical moment, the footsteps disappeared and a young woman swung past his cove, dangling by her foot.

The moment seemed so embarassing for the girl that Taylor couldn't help but break into a hearty laugh. He'd listened intently ever since her steps first appeared but she seemed to be alone, no pursuit underway even so he didn't dare to step from his concealment as he studied the girl.

"Whats the rush, love? Why don't you hang around for a while. Been a long time since I've met such a bloody gorgeous swinger."

Taylor pauses a moment to listen. The massive machine seemed to have grown still, satisfied with the captive and still no one pursued her.

"Whats the matter love? You are all red in the face. Had a few too many drinks, have you?"

Satisfied they were alone with no prying eyes of any nature, including the unnatural, Taylor steps forward where the girl might better see him. A M4 bayonet spins in the air before him before he catches the blade once more.

"Don' worry, I'll have you down in a jiffy."

Without warning, Taylor steps forward, his blade slicing through the rope as his hands move into place to catch both girl and stop the rope from retracting.

"Bloody hell. What did they do to you down here? You look like you've seen a ghost and darn near became one."

[Tundra]

..\\Unexpected Guest//..

Kuar was in the process of gathering all the stray members, either passed out, hurt or any other reason why they were not gathering themselves. The entire time he was listening, his hearing pushed to its limits trying to pick up the slightest of sounds. He paused suddenly feeling, well, feeling a change in the air. He almost instantly turned around to see who the newcomer was. Though he had never actually met Vlad, many times Shay had described him in their past. Stories were told, times of love and hate, cheer, and demise. The main thing that confirmed who this person was, was how he spoke of Ty. Kuar had researched quite a bit on Ty and Bree after finding they were Shays kids. He guessed he really was in a slight bit of denial that Shay ever could really settle down to have kids. She just didn't seem the motherly type. But it seemed it was possible, and had indeed happened. But again it was a matter of the past and would be figured out on better times. For now Kuar flicked his tail and watched Vlad, the mans movements, how he worked.

It was only natural, for all he knew Vlad was the one who arranged the hit KNOWING Shay would survive it. Adjusting his wings under the cloak he made his way back over to the buss. He wasn't going to confront Vlad, no, he was more concerned as to what Shay would do. They didn't need to make a scene, any type of one. A little reunion between her and Vlad, well, Kuar was unsure what would happen. He knew what would happen between himself and her, but this was different. Her and Vlad had a kid, not necessarily on good terms. Kuar was unsure really of any of it. He had hoped to talk it out with her once everything was settled and fixed. The Wren was in a real jam being as small as it was now. Jobs would be harder, missions having higher chances of casualties. Then again Kuar had been a solo assassin almost his entire life. The time he had been with Shay was the ONLY time he really had a partner in any way. And even then their friendship had developed passed that, they were more then friends. But now, he was unsure if that spark was still there. His tail flicked back and forth, betraying his calm demeanor reviling his frustration at Vlad's appearance. Of course only Shay would know this, she knew him better then anyone in this living world. The only one that could know possibly more was Kuar's own mentor, LONG before Shay. Conis, how those days were in the past.

Walking up to shay calmly, or as calm as he could he stood there for a few before stating "The windows are blown out, which will attract attention. People wonder when a bus drives down the road with broken windows." At the same time he took a glance over at Vlad, watching closely. His claws flexed slightly, not in hostility really more...preparation if needed. Thought it would take a lot to even notice the small signals of his uneasiness and hostility. Actually, Shay was the only one who could notice them, that's how subtle they were.

[[probably a bazillion miss spelled words lol. I think I'll bring TF back after they get to a new area, After all hes ALWAYS been one to stay away from messes like this. Hes only recently becoming more acquainted with the Wren. Either that he can end up with Malberry which...would be a laugh all its own.]]

[Verdana]

//Bree in a pickle//

Bree suppressed a shriek of frustration as she dangled helplessly in mid-air. She was caught and she was probably going to die. She didn't fear death (or, at least, that's what she told herself) but she did regret that she had to die so early. She had so much left to achieve. The blood was rushing to her head. She would soon be dizzy, and then she would lose consciousness. She doubted whether she would wake up again. She couldn't fathom why Malicia had gone to such trouble to trap her, but it was probably not to give her a scone and a pat on the back.

Thud. Thud. They were coming. Not from the direction she'd expected, though. She twisted, trying to at least catch a glimpse of her doom. She had no luck; she was swinging too wildly for her eyes to focus. She shut her eyes tightly instead, hoping that her fate would be quick and the pain would be minimal. She heard a voice, and gritted her teeth. Of course not. They planned to torture her before she died, by playing her the voice she least wanted to hear. She felt that this was excessively cruel, and was considering gnawing one of her ankles off before she opened her eyes and realised that the voice wasn't only a voice.

She almost groaned out loud. Not him! And he was still speaking with that horrible drawl of an accent, too. She tried to hold still, but it wasn't easy. Malberry swung back and forth before her eyes. She swallowed thickly. 'Be nice,' she told herself. 'He can cut you loose.' But did he have to speak like his awful cover persona? If possible, Bree liked Tyler less than she liked Malberry. She controlled herself enough not to scream at him, and thought that this was a truly remarkable achievement, under the circumstances.
Very funny, she grumbled, unamused.
Could you please - Yeep!

Her squeal of surprise was very embarrassing and completely unprofessional. She had not seen the bayonet, and the ringing in her ears had prevented her from hearing it, either. One moment she was upside down and trapped, and the next she was plummeting towards the floor. She loosened herself to lessen the inevitable impact... Which didn't come. She found herself caught by Malberry, and to her mortification, had to stay that way while the blood rushed away from her head, leaving her gasping and temporarily blinded. As soon as her vision began to clear and her balance was returning, she pushed away from the young man, disgruntled.
I'll tell you all about it later. For now, let's just get out of here.

Away from Malicia. That was what was important. Bree didn't know where she was or where she was going, but anywhere was better than where she was then.

//In the Midst of Destruction//

Turning away, trying to appear unconcerned in the centre of a calamity, Shaygrin felt the change in the air, but didn't turn. She couldn't bear to look upon another disaster. Nothing good could come of an air shift like that. She looked across the road, with the hope that if she didn't acknowledge the newest element to the drama, it would cease to exist. This had never worked before, but Shay liked to dabble in optimism every now and again, and it never hurt to keep one's options open.

She smelled him a moment before he spoke.

Her back stiffened. The voice made her neck prickle. After all those years, and all of that conflict, Shay was ashamed to note that her first instinct was still to run to him, to throw herself into his arms and wail like a frightened child. She heard a clank, and turned to see her son, what looked to be an important piece of bus at his feet, pulling an awkward salute.
F-Father, he stammered, looking petrified.
Ty was as likely to use the word 'father' as he was to wear a suit and express a desire to become a chartered accountant. However, Vladimir Tepes was not 'Dad' or 'Pop'. 'Father' was as familiar as it would ever be. Ty did not know his father very well. This was partly Shay's fault, and she regretted her part in it. However, Vlad was not blameless himself. He had never been known to take a role in child-rearing.

Shaygrin controlled herself. She would make him wait. She spoke to Ty, in a level, unconcerned voice.
Can you fix it?
The giant nodded.
Split-ring commutator's dislodged, but the brushes are sound. It will drive, as long as the driver takes it really easy on the gears. He threw a nervous glance towards his father, evidently wondering whether the man was impressed or not. Shay did not look his way. She turned to Kuar instead, grateful for his intervention.
Don't worry about the windows, she assured him.
I can keep people from noticing. Besides, it's not as if we have another transport option. Ty, just get it working.

She took a moment to allow Banshee the responsibility of guarding the captive before, finally, turning to Vlad. She kept her face impassive, although she was less than immune to his presence internally. More than sixty years of training, reliance and deep trust at her most developmental age had conditioned her. She fought it. She wasn't even sure why she fought any more, especially since she considered following the advice which had led to their separation more and more frequently. She wouldn't mention that, though. Not until she knew where they stood.

She looked him up and down. He looked... Like Vlad. She fought the urge to soften. No. He was not forgiven.
As always, Vladimir, your timing is impeccable. To what do I owe this unexpected honour?
Her voice came out sharp and raw, and she regretted that. It wasn't his fault. However, she couldn't take it back. In a time of such instability, everything had to appear intentional.

She wondered what he thought of her, what he'd been expecting. She was haggard, and looked older than ever. Her eyes were ringed, and she hunched slightly over her broken ribs. All in all, she more than likely failed to match up to the image he held in his head.
Before she could muse over this for much longer, Ty righted the bus with an almighty thud. Shay's eyes stayed on Vlad.
Does it work? she asked her son.
She got no answer, but a minute or two later, the engine started with a rattling cough. Shay tipped her head to the bus.
We need to leave, she told the vampyre curtly. Now. If you want to stick around to shoot the breeze, you'll have to come with us.