Running the Gauntlet - Part 5
Jan. 4th, 2016 12:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rubyrubyrubyMaggie crouches, wide-eyed and fearful next to Gaval, watching for the others as the horrors of battle on a scale she has rarely seen before play out above her. Spotting Liya's rumble-tumble into the trench is a relief, certainly. Still, her attention plays over the rise above, impatience to see her husband. And there he is. Once more relief floods through her, until the earth heaves and throws Merrisol up into the air. For an instant she fears that he is lost and horror registers in her eyes. But, he reaches for her and her arms begin to lift in reply so that when he snatches her up, her arms fly about him, holding him close as the two tumble together into the depths of the trench, flinging them together against the far wall. They end up with their friends and family, Merrisol's laughter chasing the last ratcheting bursts of fire away. His words, so much at odds with the laughter just past tickle her and hints of stress-releaving mirth begin to bubble up, escaping in a startled flood, mutted by her mask and the fact that she is still clinging tenatiously to Merrisol, "No... not fun." But, terror needs a release and since they have made it this far, why not? "I am so glad you are here." Alive. Mostly in one piece... But, she does not say further for fear of jinxing their next run, for run again they surely must.
Liya just stays where she is, hands over her ears, and Sprite actually curls up with her, just in front of her. It's like sensory overload for both for a bit, neither one having been in something like this ever before. The sound of laughter catches her attention and she cracks open her eyes just a bit, looking over at Maggie and Kerf. Only for a moment, before she closes them again, not moving. That's it - seriously, this is ridiculous. By the volcano goddess' hotfeet, how are they supposed to keep going? It's too much. Too too much. Course this delay does let breath catch up to actions, and every ache and pain gets stronger. Liya groans, and Sprite chitters at her worriedly. "Alright, alright," Liya says. Not that she understands what exactly sprite says, but she sure gets the emotional meaning behind it. "I am going to need to sleep for three weeks after this mess. Is everyone okay?" She moves finally, looking up to count noses, eyes finally opening within the mask.
Out /there/, beyond the mangled trenches, everything is almost done settling back to earth or rolling away from new craters and piles of debris. The haze in the air is an acrid cloud that collects some of the dampness and is drawn down, albeit slower than the heavier clods of metal and mud. If one peeks past the minimal shelter they would see more treasures unearthed. Old structures suffocated by mud and ground down by constant warfare. Evidence that perhaps there used to be other types of structures before the place was ground down and transformed over and over again by destrucion.
From somewhere to the right is the sound of fat bumblebees. Big buzzy ones. It might be hard to pick up on noises after the deafening barrage, but it is deep and throaty and hard to miss when hearing starts to return.
Ruby clenches her hands into fists and blinking away at the sand in her eyes, staring in a stricken sort of way has watering eyes help to smear some of the grit out of the way. Since the ground has stopped quaking, she grips at her tunic and tears it from off her neck and balls it up and clutches up against her chest like a teddy bear, rubbing the bundle clockwise between her breasts. "Must'ah run oot'ah them things..." She pulls herself from the corner, stuck for a moment as remnants of barbed wire try to keep her tethered to the trench wall.
Merrisol's unhinged response fades off along with the shelling. He considers Maggie, mask nudging mask like enamored reptiles, and tightens his arm around her shoulders briefly. "Likewise, Only.. that was damned close." Looking around as Liyandra initiates roll call, he unfolds his legs slowly, all muscle fatigue and reverberations of pain in his movements. He tries a deeper breath, then lets it out in a series of coughs. Okay, that concussive battering had been quite real. "Fine enough, here," he decides. Because they've got to be. "That couldn't have all been... for our benefit, right? It's just... sheer bloodymindedness, out there." He stares at Ruby as she starts back into motion, trailing pointy bangles. "Which way now - does this trench get us any closer to the target?" The incessant hum is first thought to be part of the endless ringing in his ears, but then he tilts his head, listening cautiously. Instead of rocking and rising to his feet, he takes the roundabout drunken method of rolling over onto his knees, and leaning heavily against the craggy wall as he bears himself up. The camou-poncho is just so many dangling scraps now, his own outfit and gear poking through the gaps. "What now.."
Maggie does not want to let go, but she does however reluctantly. Now is not the time to stop moving. Really. Once Kerf is up, she decides that she should follow his lead. Or Liya's lead. Or Ruby's. The options give her a few, precious moments to gather her resolve. That, like her poncho, is shredded although not useless. With a mighty effort and a groan of pain to match, she lifts a shoulder, throws her arm over her body to grab at the ground. This helps her leverage up onto her knees. Shaking her head to try and clear the buzzy ringing in her ears, she ignores the tremble in her arms and legs. Pushing herself up farther, she staggers to her feet. Another shake of her head and she stumble-jerks towar Ruby, "Hold up a sec. Let's get that metal crap off of you." Since, that can't be helping. Drawing her sword, she nods to the barbaric bangles. This is not the flame-sword, so she isn't risking burning Ruby's skin in the process. Kerf's question is what makes her realize that part of what her ears are reporting can't be echoes of madness. "Uh. See anything, O and O?"
Liya slowly gets to her own feet, as the rest of the crew does the same thing. "Run out? Uhm, that sounds like a bad sign, doesn't it? What do they follow up with?" She winces as she makes it to her feet, hands reaching to rub at her ears, before she too comes to the same conclusion. "There's something else coming? We need to keep moving, and fast. I have a bad feeling about this."
If one is looking skyward one will be able to spot two flying things. Straight-winged birds but far larger. They approach from the right side, if one is still able to differentiate between things like compass points after being thrown into this meat grinder. Their silhouettes become easier to discern against the backdrop of greenish overcast skies as they approach. Some sort of Beggy machines that seem to be able to use their Bog-awful sound to keep them aloft rather than flap their wings like proper avian creatures. To add to the madness, there are actually people visibly riding them. Someone riding upon the tapered body of the thing...and two lying flat upon the immobile wings. Insanity. And they're playing 'peekaboo': Covering their faces with thick owlish masks whose eyelenses reflect light like a feline.
And then...From the left of the partially covered Trench and dugout...A shrill bugle call. And then two long whistle blasts.
Ruby balks at Maggie drawing her sword. "It not me fawwwlt!" she bleats and tries to keep the rolled up ruined poncho between herself and Maggie. "...Clockwork runnin too fast or somethin! I watched...Made it almost 'alfway b'fore...I kin ex-" After a few anxious breaths, she seems to clue into what Maggie was trying to help with. Ruby opens her mouth and then snaps it shut quickly with a loud clack, and turns in profile so Maggie can do some quick surgery. "Oh...Can't 'ear well...Roight. Gotta get rid 'o this stoof..."
If anyone tries to gauge how close they are to the power plant, they'll be able to see that the group has definitely come more than halfway to their goal. To retreat and go back the way they came would be a longer distance than pressing forward. However, and a big 'but', there is far less cover on the last bit of home stretch. More exposed and brave souls will not have the luxury of keeping only to the maze of trenchwork.
Merri doesn't answer the question straight away, aware of the gang lurching up around him and Maggie going to excise Ruby from her femmacles, but keeping his gaze pinned to the right-hand of their sunken position. When the aircraft hove into view, he stares in foggy-eyed fascination for a few seconds. Flight technology, how wonderful! It's after that bit of study that he gets around to wondering the practical purpose of the wingmen, and abruptly mutters, "Brings to mind the Triton patrols over the capital.." More loudly: "I think it's recon. They're taking a peek into the gulleys and trenches to see if the other side is sneak-advancing." Looking towards Liyandra a moment, he nods, then begins looking for a good place to clamber up the wall, castle-side. "Right, we'll be pinned down if they spot us in here. Over and out's our best chance."
Maggie lowers her weapon while Ruby works out the plan, though the tilt of her head and the set of her hands might convey the silent 'C'me on, Ruby, it's /me/' that runs through her mind. Nodding once she is given permission to approach, Maggie works on removing the wire, trying not to let sword or barb cause more harm. She does listen to Merrisol's assessment of the droning metal beasties as well as Liya's assessment of their situation. Stepping back once the last bit of metal is gone from her cousin's person, Maggie sheaths her sword and turns to look up at the planes, "Ugh." Eloquent as always, Maggie... Looking to the left, she tries to assess what the whistle means. "I think... the airships have been spotted. It is possible that the other side will try to bring them down. As soon as the people on the... craft up there... spot us, we'll become targets. Ditto for the other side. Our options are to play possom or run for it."
Liya looks around at the bunkers. "We've seen what happens to those who play possum. I vote we run for it," she says. And she does move towards the side she thinks she should be going out, ready to go in an instance. "And the faster the better." She looks at the wyvern who wingflutters up to just the ceiling level of the bunker so the wyvern can see out, and Liya can see Sprite. She frowns. "I think it's closer to the castle, going back would take longer. If we can get some momentum built up, and run like zig zag crazy, we might gain some time because they won't expect anyone to be heading to the castle. I hope."
Ruby winces as the wire is snicked and cut through, enough so that she's able to remove the coils and then her blood seep freely rather than plugged up by the infection-making things. Damned things felt like she was constantly being gnawed on by fangs. The wounds trickle along with others along her side. They gleam wetly. "Run. We gotta run. They keep at this forevah..." Mention of the airships has her growling and unslinging the ugly pistol from her back. "I not die 'ere loike puss'ims. I ain't no puss." She peers out towards where Liya took stock of their destination. Ruby huffs and puffs. The approach of the aircraft has her twitchy and feeling like a rabbit with hawks overhead. "Flyin 'eresy!" She raises her pistol and takes aim at one of them. "I blast, you run fast!"
Merrisol tends to agree with Liyandra there. "And the air's still cruddy, they might still mistake us for one of theirs.." Now that Ruby is unchained and ready to go, he gestures to various hanging whatsits and moldering sandbag piles by which to make their escape. As Ruby boldly steps up to provide cover fire, he eyes her one-shot pistol dubiously. "Right - But we all go over together, don't give them warning to pick off the stragglers," he insists sharply and starts them off with: "On three. One - two - and we're off!" Over the side!
RPG: Maggie challenges a difficulty of 12. Maggie chooses Resolve and the gifts BLD-OB and SKL-OB. Maggie succeeds.
Maggie pauses for just an instant, "Ruby, please don't. They might not spot us instantly, but will if we give them a spark to focus on. Shooting at one will ally us with the other side and I am not sure that is a good idea either." Whirling as she hears the count, Maggie tenses for an instant, then springs into action. Up and over she goes, legs struggling at first to gain a rhythm. Something... smells awful. Lifting a hand, she reaches for the mask she wears, but does not pull it off just yet. Instead, she squints against the woozy feeling the gas she breaths brings her. An unfocused step or two careens her to one side, then the other. With a deep growl against the gas, she pulls her consciousness into a brightly flaming kernel that blazes with determination. Aiming for the castle, she resettles her resolve and turns the zig-zagy stumble into a haphazard dash forward.
RPG: Liyandra challenges a difficulty of 12. Liyandra chooses Resolve and the gifts PHY-KS and SUK-RH. Liyandra fails.
Liya nods to Kerf's countdown and she moves as well, vaulting up and over the top, to somersault into a slow shambling excuse for a run. She can smell something acrid and she too staggers. The wyvern keens briefly, but keeps moving, sticking with Liya. They might be in difficulty, they might, but they are moving. Sort of in the right direction. Liya all of a sudden takes a sharp three steps to one side, missing a large sink hole by >< that much. She shakes her head, gritting her teeth, and reaches a hand for Sprite. "C'mon, we can do it," she grits, feeling the horrible taste in her mouth, in her nose, in her lungs. She goes down to one knee, and Sprite smacks into her back, claws finding Liya's shoulder. The pain works into Liya's foggy brain, and she staggers to her feet, moving forward again.
RPG: Ruby challenges a difficulty of 12. Ruby chooses Force and the gifts BLD-OB and PHY-UB. Ruby almost succeeds.
Ruby raises the barrel of her weapon to eye-level. The rough cross-hairs on the pistol are in front of her good eye and she wavers it towards the airborne craft. Darn things are non for a lack of pinpoint accuracy but it's not making her think twice. Maggie's urgent request does though. Gritting her teeth, she lowers the pistol and sets off along with the others. Right...no rest of the wicked. She starts to cough. A lot more. The 'paffs' of things landing seemingly harmlessly and wafting over the blasted stretch are dismissed by her. But the more lungfuls of air she draws in just makes things worse. The gas mask bounces around under her chin. Silly Ruby, those go over the face. Must have forgotten to attach it in all the excitement. Yeah. "Gaaaauugh!" She builds saliva to try and collect the cloying vapours. She also stumbles, nearly steps on a bayonet jutting from a new mound of muck and blunders off-course, veering off slightly. She noisily keeps trying to hack up her lungs and get back on track. She's delayed though, and an easier target to be spotted by either side. She can almost 'feel' unseen people from either side spotting her. training things towards her and her companions. Doom.
The aircraft pass overhead, their engines making a braying 'waaaaAAAAaaa' and begin to bank so as not to come too close to the enemy gun emplacements. Huh, they're wearing masks as well. They're almost infuriatingly safe from reprisal up there. If not for the noise they make, there are hints of how they might attain a grace of sorts if not purposed for war. The illusion is shattered when the tail of one of them is shredded by surface-to-air flak fire. The ka-kaw ka-kaw of the rapid firing turrents are hosed into the fusilage and chew and blast half of the craft to pieces. It almost collides with its partner and starts trailing plumes of opaque smoke as it veers back to the trenches.
RPG: Merrisol challenges a difficulty of 12. Merrisol chooses Resolve and the gifts BLD-RE, PHY-ST, and STY-CC. Merrisol succeeds.
Merrisol's paratrooper scramble over the side is a thing of awkwardness as he grunts and huffs and sends an avalanche of wormy turf back into the trench as he goes. Nevermind the negative style points, though. He's over, and presenting a large, obvious target to the gunners and riflemen of the nearest opposing faction. With a swift glance from left to right to ascertain that all the rest have joined him in the Little Big Push, he launches forth from the lip of the embankment, the new surge of effort searing painfully through strained tendons. The terrain is indeed pummeled into an expanse of little real cover, while providing thousands of smaller trip-ups and obstacles for the careless foot-traveler. Merri is dodging around a chunky ruin of what might have been a concrete traffic intersection, when he runs into a wall of noxious fog, whereupon he comes to the realization that the mask he wears is mostly decorative. Damn it, Ruby! He instinctively halts all further inhalation, though what amount of chemical that did make it into his airway and lungs itches and burns. With alarm, he turns to check on the progress of the others, seeing some forging on ahead, and others beginning to struggle with pockets of freshly released gas. Wordlessly, he veers off-course and starts on an intercept of Liyandra's trajectory. That is when the first rounds of autofire come whizzing across the battleground at him, though slightly off-target due to his abrupt course change. One wings him in the shoulder, tattering the rest of the poncho on that side and peeling off the layer of cloth and skin underneath. He ducks and weaves in belated startlement, but runs on. More of his air reserved is sacrificed to yell out, "Ruby, return fire!" His lungs clench and his eyes water up, but he manages to reach Liyandra to bolster her and Sprite into a quicker stumble-run with his charging forward momentum.
Maggie makes the mistake of looking over her shoulder when she hears Kerf's call. Return fire? The turn slows her just enough that a bullet whizzes by in front of her while several pepper the ground behind her. Without that pause, she would have been struck squarely in the shoulder, back or head. "Gah!" Drawing her own storm pistol, she thumbs the safety off. Gasping for air through the muck and gas the mask lets in, she teeters, gritting her teeth against the influence of the gas. Shifting her mouth a bit she begins to bite her tongue, the pain adding a focused spark to the flames aching through her abused muscles. Spotting Ruby's teetering advance, Maggie calls, "Together, then, Ruby. Kerf and Liya can take the lead." Curving back in a short, sharp loop, she aims her feet for Ruby's position and her pistol back toward those shooting at them.
Liya's steps are wobbly, more than a little out of control, even with the wyvern on her shoulders, digging in, down to the bone. The shooting is something she has no chance to deliberately avoid, but somehow she seems to know where the danger is, just in the knick of time. Only she's not so quick footed at the moment, and one of those bullets wings her leg. If not for Kerf's heroics, she'd have fallen, but with his momentum, she continues forward, stumbling and just about retching her guts out, except they're already empty, given the run they've been on. That's probably a good thing.
Ruby hunches over and retches part of the meat-inna-bun she had before this fun little jog started. The gates of Amber city seem like a long time ago. The gruel adds a bit of colour and stench and she whips her head to free herself of icky sticky strands of saliva that descend from her broad lips. Eyes watering, she hears Merrisol's request. Can't see him exactly, but she uses him as a waypoint of sorts. With Maggie enroute, she screams out a hoarse affirmative. The amazon one-hands the hunk of metal and wood in her grip and sweeps it towards where all those buzzying vip-vip-zwoos are coming from. Lots to choose from. The weapon in her hand 'stutters'. Like a power that was/wasn't quite magic was trying to be leeched or tested due to the void where magic could nestle or at least explain its function. The absence is greedy and confused. But after a stomach-lurching delay of a second or two, there's a lick of lightning around the muzzle and an intense crackle. A bullet takes her square in the kneecap and almost fells her. Rather than shattering it, there's a wild ricochette and a yowl from the tall woman. Ruby is still playing it back and forth (and seeing red) when it surges and erupts.../very/ in sync with her instinctual anger. After-images of lightning searing into her retinas, volleys of elemental force leap forth. The main bolts spawn spiderly filaments that try and seek a connection with metal and exposed detrius. One such shot touches off a magazine and commits the first foreign atrocity to the shadow.
The fatally damaged aircraft comes screaming towards the runners, it's arse making a puffy column of smoke and disintegrating parts. The spotters on its wings are limp ragdolls firmly belted into place, but the pilot tries in vain to save his skin.
Merrisol hooks a hand under Liyandra's arm when she doubles over from nausea, keeping her from pitching headfirst into any number of jutting posts and toppled rock. As long as her legs are still working, they keep moving at a desperate clip, just to stay as moving a target as they can manage, what with the volleys still pelting freely around them. What with the lack of sizzling lightning fire to stay their shots. Another hail of gunfire thunks across their path and Merri's weapon harness rattles from several wild ricochets, leaving his back torn and scored bloody. He restricts himself to strained grunts, running on the last minutes of held air and despairing of the pistol-wielder(s)'s having heard his yell for assistance... when the blasts finally erupt from their team and strike. That might take care of the enemy fire for a few precious moments, but that doesn't mean it's clear sailing from here on out. The aircraft's careening swoop in their direction is like a hard slap in the face by Lady Luck. Merrisol tries to time its descent, like maybe they can get ahead of it if they just keep running at it...? He is ready to dive to the earth, taking Liyandra with him, if necessary, and belly-crawl the rest of the way if they have to!
Maggie darts up to Ruby's position and falls to one knee. Bringing the pistol up at the same time, she tries to ignore the pain in her leg as she mis-lands on half-buried schrapnel. The fabric of her trousers tears with a soft shriek that is undoubtedly lost in the crackle-boom of Ruby's weapon going off. Ignoring the added pain and ooze of her blood into the sand as well as she can, she notes instead that it takes Ruby's pistol time to warm up, which is unfortunate but manageable. Concentrating on the enemy position, she squints her eyes against the afterimages left by Ruby's lightning shot and aims. Depressing the trigger, she is ready for the delay and manages to lead her target as the warrior tries to run away from his shimmering, crackling ex-companion. Finally, the pistol jumps to life in her hands, a lance of blue lightning darting out to find its mark like the tongue of an energy dragon licking up birthday cake icing. If energy dragons do such things.
Liya's feet keep moving forwards that sukhoti stubbornness standing her in good stead at this point, as she is no longer aware of anything other than the pain. She's only half conscious, Sprite now too starting to whimper, as the little wyvern also finds herself coughing and unable to breathe right from the fumes. Liya is going to be very upset, but at least with sprite's claws dug in as they are in Liya's skin, the wyvern doesn't fall off when she loses consciousness. Just hangs there limply, tail around one Liya helping to keep her dead weight in place. Liya cries out, but gets enough of a terror from that, that she manages to okeep moving as Kerf directs.
The plane comes in hard. A bit of a side-to-side roll of its axis, in a mockery of a friendly wave as the soul at the controls fights with his last breaths. If one could see it, there is shock on his face at the existance of people in no man's land. A flash of a thought not occupied with a replay of his life's greatest hits. It's out of his hands though, literally, when the controls fail completely and the aircraft propels forward and down. Either its the death knell of the engine, or the pilot, or a mingling of both that ceases when everything is transformed into a cacophony of flaming mangling of parts and people. A hard whump, shedding of metal and stretched canvas and 'things'. The nose digs in nice and good and then the whole frame goes end over end after it catches on a stubborn section of trenchworks, cartwheeling drunkenly back and forth before Liyandra and Merrisol. Left-right. Left...left. Right. RIGHT!
Ruby revels with adrenaline as she's able to inflict a little horrible to the battlefield. Once she's gotten started, she's really getting into unloading charge after charge. Lacking Maggie's thoughtful aim, she sends erratic shots along the horizon. More fire is directed back towards Maggie and Ruby, seen as a source of bizzare resistance.
Both storm pistols are probably disrupting the dreadful norm of the day. In addition to the evidence of a strange phenomena within the shell-saturated area. Both sides coming to their own conclusions and trying to adapt. When a lash of energy cores through a particularly thick cloud of the toxic gas attack, it creates a short-lived violet fireball that cooks off into a sick vapour.
Okay, so... that was a bad idea. Thinking they could run /under/ a crashing aircraft in time? Bad Kerf. No scooby-snacks for you, perhaps ever again. The drag on Merri's arm increases as Sprite stops assisting with equilibrium, but since it's Liyandra there isn't much of a burden to begin with. And it's really the least of their worries as the plane flips and flops and cartweels at them in its fiery death throes. "Ahh shiii-" he yelps, dispensing with the breath-holding. The barrel-rolling wreck is upon them, and in that second it is clear what they must do. Take the leap while the wing is gouging into the earth and clearing the breadth of it before the body snaps and crushes them to paste. No instructions are issued, just a wild prolonged shout of effort and a squeeze at her arm, and he and Liyandra (and wyvern makes three) leave the ground and dive through that narrow window of evasion. Time might stand still a single moment to afford them a detailed view of the individual rivets and plates that pop and bend in their wake, the pilot flopping as the cockpit folds towards them. Then - they are past and clear and hitting the field of flaming detritus to continue a hectic charge across the remainder of the contested territory, slightly perforated and cooked, but alive. The windowed gatehouse, somehow left untouched by the ravages of endless war, marks the safe checkpoint. Merri staggers into a turn, reluctant to enter the stronghold before knowing where the others are.
Alarms are sounding out from up and down the line. The left, again, is at the fore when it comes to reaction and putting things into motion. A low goose-bump making wail that is cranked up into an air raid siren. A number of clanging bells and alert noises follow suit. More and more attention is sent towards very specific parts of the battlefield. Nothing from the building that Merrisol and Liyandra are at the edge of. Other than a slight heat radiating from the edifice. Gunfire pocks the ground a few yards away, but does not encroach, however it may unnerve.
Taking more careful aim, Maggie listens for some indication of where their friends are. Has this helped? Hurt? What she hears is not a triumphant shout to join them, but the savage horror of an airplane being torn to pieces behind them. She can't even hear Kerf's near-explative in the roar of superheated metal sqreeching out its last. Turning a flash-glance behind her, she spots the death-defying leap, but can't see the result as the fuselage scrunch-rolls along its course. "Ruby." It might be ineffective at first, for her voice is a mere croak in the cacophany of battle. But, Maggie does not leave it to that. She knows that she can't easily be heard, so... taking another shot at someone shooting at them, she yells, "Fall back, Ruby! We need to get to the next position. And make sure that the others made it." Still, her voice is not loud. Not with the noxious gas eating away at her throat, figuratively if not literally. One hand darts out to punch Ruby's shoulder, avoiding any tears, holes or puncture wounds if possible. "Come on! Life for the runners."
It's probably a good thing Liya is half unconscious or she'd likely be running in completely the wrong way in sheer terror. Kerf is trying to kill them both, running them into an airplane. yes, she does know what one of those is, thanks to Random. She lurchruns along with Kerf, just dazedly moving as she can, left and right at random. The falling airplane is noted only because of the heat that it generates, sizzling her a bit, though not too badly, given the salamander on her arm. Gasping for breath, pushing so far through the pain and agony to make it to that checkpoint. Though as Kerf staggers into a turn, Liya's impetus sends her forward to just crumble to the ground behind him, wyvern atop her, in a pile of totally needing a break.
Ruby rocks, buffetted by the slug into her. Her mouth opens and closes, turning wild-eyed to Maggie. Her pistol-wielding hand is still outstretched to the enemy, muzzle pointing sometimes too high or too low. "Whut!" Bullets whizz past and twitch and clothing and kick mud at both. The sizzling barrel is lowered and the import of Maggie's words sinks in. Ruby nods and seems to wake a little. "All...Alroight..." The fire increases on them and Ruby starts to hunch and flinch and start off towards where Merrisol and Liyandra are practically home free. Ruby falls when she's winged again, and hard ricochettes try and carve more deeply into her. She has one pass through her side and she screams but keeps running, pressing a hand to her side. "Oh my Bog..."
Merrisol tears the mask from his face and casts it away, since it holds vestiges of poison smoke and he's better off trying to breathe in this new zone. He swipes grimly at the tears streaming from reddened eyes and braces his legs to stay standing even as Liyandra topples right over. And he does loosen his deathgrip on her arm so as not to keep her from her appointment with the pavement. The frozen look of fear and distress over his features suggests that he hadn't expected Ruby and Maggie to lag this far behind, let alone stop completely to engage in a shoot-out. He takes a few trembling trudges towards them, and gunfire strafes the perimeter as though hoping he'll stray far enough into it that they can retroactively stop the intruder from gaining access to their sacred castle. Pacing like a tiger at the bars of a cage, feeling the occasional ping of a near miss flutter by his leg, Merrisol does what he can right at the edge to distract fire away from the others, including temporarily traipsing back into the neutral zone. What's another bullet wound or three? "C'mon Hotstuff!"
Taking another shot back at the line of defenders or assailants, depending on ones point of view, Maggie lets Ruby get a head start before turning to run as full tilt toward that safe zone as she can. She has relied on determination and luck and, up to now, has escaped with only a wound here and there. Spotting the bloom of red at Ruby's side, Maggie's determination is only redoubled, "Gogogo!" Not that Ruby needs the encouragement, mind. She must be giving her own muscles a well needed pep talk. The bullets that whizz by leave angry buzzing noises in their wake. Unless that is the sound of still more heading their way. One smacks into her side, flinging blood and gore outward as it exits in the front. Another scrapes an angry welt into her calf without doing further damage, "Crap on a cracker!" It isn't much for explitives, but it sounds worse than it is. Unless one is dining at that unfortunate dinner party, of course. One hand lowers to cover the exit wound while the entry
Definitely some downsides to being so tall. There's a loud resounding ~crack~ as a bullet destroys the stock on her pistol and nearly removes her fingers. She nearly drops the whole thing and clutches the sizzling metal to her side to attempt to cauterize the blood leaking from her resilient hide. It's all power that she puts into her loping gait as she moves to rejoin Merrisol. Not far now. Oh crap, Liya's on the ground. She considers, briefly, to use part of the plane wreckage as a shield, but the attention she and Maggie are getting from both sides isn't great. She hopes Maggie is close behind if not about to overtake her. Mostly she just wants to bomb her way past that checkpoint and onto the imaginary safe zone.
Liya starts to move, one hand reaching to pull the mask off her face, because it's not a happy thing, that mask. she manages to think to remove Sprite's as well, but then just curls back up, coughing and hacking and not really conscious.
Liya just stays where she is, hands over her ears, and Sprite actually curls up with her, just in front of her. It's like sensory overload for both for a bit, neither one having been in something like this ever before. The sound of laughter catches her attention and she cracks open her eyes just a bit, looking over at Maggie and Kerf. Only for a moment, before she closes them again, not moving. That's it - seriously, this is ridiculous. By the volcano goddess' hotfeet, how are they supposed to keep going? It's too much. Too too much. Course this delay does let breath catch up to actions, and every ache and pain gets stronger. Liya groans, and Sprite chitters at her worriedly. "Alright, alright," Liya says. Not that she understands what exactly sprite says, but she sure gets the emotional meaning behind it. "I am going to need to sleep for three weeks after this mess. Is everyone okay?" She moves finally, looking up to count noses, eyes finally opening within the mask.
Out /there/, beyond the mangled trenches, everything is almost done settling back to earth or rolling away from new craters and piles of debris. The haze in the air is an acrid cloud that collects some of the dampness and is drawn down, albeit slower than the heavier clods of metal and mud. If one peeks past the minimal shelter they would see more treasures unearthed. Old structures suffocated by mud and ground down by constant warfare. Evidence that perhaps there used to be other types of structures before the place was ground down and transformed over and over again by destrucion.
From somewhere to the right is the sound of fat bumblebees. Big buzzy ones. It might be hard to pick up on noises after the deafening barrage, but it is deep and throaty and hard to miss when hearing starts to return.
Ruby clenches her hands into fists and blinking away at the sand in her eyes, staring in a stricken sort of way has watering eyes help to smear some of the grit out of the way. Since the ground has stopped quaking, she grips at her tunic and tears it from off her neck and balls it up and clutches up against her chest like a teddy bear, rubbing the bundle clockwise between her breasts. "Must'ah run oot'ah them things..." She pulls herself from the corner, stuck for a moment as remnants of barbed wire try to keep her tethered to the trench wall.
Merrisol's unhinged response fades off along with the shelling. He considers Maggie, mask nudging mask like enamored reptiles, and tightens his arm around her shoulders briefly. "Likewise, Only.. that was damned close." Looking around as Liyandra initiates roll call, he unfolds his legs slowly, all muscle fatigue and reverberations of pain in his movements. He tries a deeper breath, then lets it out in a series of coughs. Okay, that concussive battering had been quite real. "Fine enough, here," he decides. Because they've got to be. "That couldn't have all been... for our benefit, right? It's just... sheer bloodymindedness, out there." He stares at Ruby as she starts back into motion, trailing pointy bangles. "Which way now - does this trench get us any closer to the target?" The incessant hum is first thought to be part of the endless ringing in his ears, but then he tilts his head, listening cautiously. Instead of rocking and rising to his feet, he takes the roundabout drunken method of rolling over onto his knees, and leaning heavily against the craggy wall as he bears himself up. The camou-poncho is just so many dangling scraps now, his own outfit and gear poking through the gaps. "What now.."
Maggie does not want to let go, but she does however reluctantly. Now is not the time to stop moving. Really. Once Kerf is up, she decides that she should follow his lead. Or Liya's lead. Or Ruby's. The options give her a few, precious moments to gather her resolve. That, like her poncho, is shredded although not useless. With a mighty effort and a groan of pain to match, she lifts a shoulder, throws her arm over her body to grab at the ground. This helps her leverage up onto her knees. Shaking her head to try and clear the buzzy ringing in her ears, she ignores the tremble in her arms and legs. Pushing herself up farther, she staggers to her feet. Another shake of her head and she stumble-jerks towar Ruby, "Hold up a sec. Let's get that metal crap off of you." Since, that can't be helping. Drawing her sword, she nods to the barbaric bangles. This is not the flame-sword, so she isn't risking burning Ruby's skin in the process. Kerf's question is what makes her realize that part of what her ears are reporting can't be echoes of madness. "Uh. See anything, O and O?"
Liya slowly gets to her own feet, as the rest of the crew does the same thing. "Run out? Uhm, that sounds like a bad sign, doesn't it? What do they follow up with?" She winces as she makes it to her feet, hands reaching to rub at her ears, before she too comes to the same conclusion. "There's something else coming? We need to keep moving, and fast. I have a bad feeling about this."
If one is looking skyward one will be able to spot two flying things. Straight-winged birds but far larger. They approach from the right side, if one is still able to differentiate between things like compass points after being thrown into this meat grinder. Their silhouettes become easier to discern against the backdrop of greenish overcast skies as they approach. Some sort of Beggy machines that seem to be able to use their Bog-awful sound to keep them aloft rather than flap their wings like proper avian creatures. To add to the madness, there are actually people visibly riding them. Someone riding upon the tapered body of the thing...and two lying flat upon the immobile wings. Insanity. And they're playing 'peekaboo': Covering their faces with thick owlish masks whose eyelenses reflect light like a feline.
And then...From the left of the partially covered Trench and dugout...A shrill bugle call. And then two long whistle blasts.
Ruby balks at Maggie drawing her sword. "It not me fawwwlt!" she bleats and tries to keep the rolled up ruined poncho between herself and Maggie. "...Clockwork runnin too fast or somethin! I watched...Made it almost 'alfway b'fore...I kin ex-" After a few anxious breaths, she seems to clue into what Maggie was trying to help with. Ruby opens her mouth and then snaps it shut quickly with a loud clack, and turns in profile so Maggie can do some quick surgery. "Oh...Can't 'ear well...Roight. Gotta get rid 'o this stoof..."
If anyone tries to gauge how close they are to the power plant, they'll be able to see that the group has definitely come more than halfway to their goal. To retreat and go back the way they came would be a longer distance than pressing forward. However, and a big 'but', there is far less cover on the last bit of home stretch. More exposed and brave souls will not have the luxury of keeping only to the maze of trenchwork.
Merri doesn't answer the question straight away, aware of the gang lurching up around him and Maggie going to excise Ruby from her femmacles, but keeping his gaze pinned to the right-hand of their sunken position. When the aircraft hove into view, he stares in foggy-eyed fascination for a few seconds. Flight technology, how wonderful! It's after that bit of study that he gets around to wondering the practical purpose of the wingmen, and abruptly mutters, "Brings to mind the Triton patrols over the capital.." More loudly: "I think it's recon. They're taking a peek into the gulleys and trenches to see if the other side is sneak-advancing." Looking towards Liyandra a moment, he nods, then begins looking for a good place to clamber up the wall, castle-side. "Right, we'll be pinned down if they spot us in here. Over and out's our best chance."
Maggie lowers her weapon while Ruby works out the plan, though the tilt of her head and the set of her hands might convey the silent 'C'me on, Ruby, it's /me/' that runs through her mind. Nodding once she is given permission to approach, Maggie works on removing the wire, trying not to let sword or barb cause more harm. She does listen to Merrisol's assessment of the droning metal beasties as well as Liya's assessment of their situation. Stepping back once the last bit of metal is gone from her cousin's person, Maggie sheaths her sword and turns to look up at the planes, "Ugh." Eloquent as always, Maggie... Looking to the left, she tries to assess what the whistle means. "I think... the airships have been spotted. It is possible that the other side will try to bring them down. As soon as the people on the... craft up there... spot us, we'll become targets. Ditto for the other side. Our options are to play possom or run for it."
Liya looks around at the bunkers. "We've seen what happens to those who play possum. I vote we run for it," she says. And she does move towards the side she thinks she should be going out, ready to go in an instance. "And the faster the better." She looks at the wyvern who wingflutters up to just the ceiling level of the bunker so the wyvern can see out, and Liya can see Sprite. She frowns. "I think it's closer to the castle, going back would take longer. If we can get some momentum built up, and run like zig zag crazy, we might gain some time because they won't expect anyone to be heading to the castle. I hope."
Ruby winces as the wire is snicked and cut through, enough so that she's able to remove the coils and then her blood seep freely rather than plugged up by the infection-making things. Damned things felt like she was constantly being gnawed on by fangs. The wounds trickle along with others along her side. They gleam wetly. "Run. We gotta run. They keep at this forevah..." Mention of the airships has her growling and unslinging the ugly pistol from her back. "I not die 'ere loike puss'ims. I ain't no puss." She peers out towards where Liya took stock of their destination. Ruby huffs and puffs. The approach of the aircraft has her twitchy and feeling like a rabbit with hawks overhead. "Flyin 'eresy!" She raises her pistol and takes aim at one of them. "I blast, you run fast!"
Merrisol tends to agree with Liyandra there. "And the air's still cruddy, they might still mistake us for one of theirs.." Now that Ruby is unchained and ready to go, he gestures to various hanging whatsits and moldering sandbag piles by which to make their escape. As Ruby boldly steps up to provide cover fire, he eyes her one-shot pistol dubiously. "Right - But we all go over together, don't give them warning to pick off the stragglers," he insists sharply and starts them off with: "On three. One - two - and we're off!" Over the side!
RPG: Maggie challenges a difficulty of 12. Maggie chooses Resolve and the gifts BLD-OB and SKL-OB. Maggie succeeds.
Maggie pauses for just an instant, "Ruby, please don't. They might not spot us instantly, but will if we give them a spark to focus on. Shooting at one will ally us with the other side and I am not sure that is a good idea either." Whirling as she hears the count, Maggie tenses for an instant, then springs into action. Up and over she goes, legs struggling at first to gain a rhythm. Something... smells awful. Lifting a hand, she reaches for the mask she wears, but does not pull it off just yet. Instead, she squints against the woozy feeling the gas she breaths brings her. An unfocused step or two careens her to one side, then the other. With a deep growl against the gas, she pulls her consciousness into a brightly flaming kernel that blazes with determination. Aiming for the castle, she resettles her resolve and turns the zig-zagy stumble into a haphazard dash forward.
RPG: Liyandra challenges a difficulty of 12. Liyandra chooses Resolve and the gifts PHY-KS and SUK-RH. Liyandra fails.
Liya nods to Kerf's countdown and she moves as well, vaulting up and over the top, to somersault into a slow shambling excuse for a run. She can smell something acrid and she too staggers. The wyvern keens briefly, but keeps moving, sticking with Liya. They might be in difficulty, they might, but they are moving. Sort of in the right direction. Liya all of a sudden takes a sharp three steps to one side, missing a large sink hole by >< that much. She shakes her head, gritting her teeth, and reaches a hand for Sprite. "C'mon, we can do it," she grits, feeling the horrible taste in her mouth, in her nose, in her lungs. She goes down to one knee, and Sprite smacks into her back, claws finding Liya's shoulder. The pain works into Liya's foggy brain, and she staggers to her feet, moving forward again.
RPG: Ruby challenges a difficulty of 12. Ruby chooses Force and the gifts BLD-OB and PHY-UB. Ruby almost succeeds.
Ruby raises the barrel of her weapon to eye-level. The rough cross-hairs on the pistol are in front of her good eye and she wavers it towards the airborne craft. Darn things are non for a lack of pinpoint accuracy but it's not making her think twice. Maggie's urgent request does though. Gritting her teeth, she lowers the pistol and sets off along with the others. Right...no rest of the wicked. She starts to cough. A lot more. The 'paffs' of things landing seemingly harmlessly and wafting over the blasted stretch are dismissed by her. But the more lungfuls of air she draws in just makes things worse. The gas mask bounces around under her chin. Silly Ruby, those go over the face. Must have forgotten to attach it in all the excitement. Yeah. "Gaaaauugh!" She builds saliva to try and collect the cloying vapours. She also stumbles, nearly steps on a bayonet jutting from a new mound of muck and blunders off-course, veering off slightly. She noisily keeps trying to hack up her lungs and get back on track. She's delayed though, and an easier target to be spotted by either side. She can almost 'feel' unseen people from either side spotting her. training things towards her and her companions. Doom.
The aircraft pass overhead, their engines making a braying 'waaaaAAAAaaa' and begin to bank so as not to come too close to the enemy gun emplacements. Huh, they're wearing masks as well. They're almost infuriatingly safe from reprisal up there. If not for the noise they make, there are hints of how they might attain a grace of sorts if not purposed for war. The illusion is shattered when the tail of one of them is shredded by surface-to-air flak fire. The ka-kaw ka-kaw of the rapid firing turrents are hosed into the fusilage and chew and blast half of the craft to pieces. It almost collides with its partner and starts trailing plumes of opaque smoke as it veers back to the trenches.
RPG: Merrisol challenges a difficulty of 12. Merrisol chooses Resolve and the gifts BLD-RE, PHY-ST, and STY-CC. Merrisol succeeds.
Merrisol's paratrooper scramble over the side is a thing of awkwardness as he grunts and huffs and sends an avalanche of wormy turf back into the trench as he goes. Nevermind the negative style points, though. He's over, and presenting a large, obvious target to the gunners and riflemen of the nearest opposing faction. With a swift glance from left to right to ascertain that all the rest have joined him in the Little Big Push, he launches forth from the lip of the embankment, the new surge of effort searing painfully through strained tendons. The terrain is indeed pummeled into an expanse of little real cover, while providing thousands of smaller trip-ups and obstacles for the careless foot-traveler. Merri is dodging around a chunky ruin of what might have been a concrete traffic intersection, when he runs into a wall of noxious fog, whereupon he comes to the realization that the mask he wears is mostly decorative. Damn it, Ruby! He instinctively halts all further inhalation, though what amount of chemical that did make it into his airway and lungs itches and burns. With alarm, he turns to check on the progress of the others, seeing some forging on ahead, and others beginning to struggle with pockets of freshly released gas. Wordlessly, he veers off-course and starts on an intercept of Liyandra's trajectory. That is when the first rounds of autofire come whizzing across the battleground at him, though slightly off-target due to his abrupt course change. One wings him in the shoulder, tattering the rest of the poncho on that side and peeling off the layer of cloth and skin underneath. He ducks and weaves in belated startlement, but runs on. More of his air reserved is sacrificed to yell out, "Ruby, return fire!" His lungs clench and his eyes water up, but he manages to reach Liyandra to bolster her and Sprite into a quicker stumble-run with his charging forward momentum.
Maggie makes the mistake of looking over her shoulder when she hears Kerf's call. Return fire? The turn slows her just enough that a bullet whizzes by in front of her while several pepper the ground behind her. Without that pause, she would have been struck squarely in the shoulder, back or head. "Gah!" Drawing her own storm pistol, she thumbs the safety off. Gasping for air through the muck and gas the mask lets in, she teeters, gritting her teeth against the influence of the gas. Shifting her mouth a bit she begins to bite her tongue, the pain adding a focused spark to the flames aching through her abused muscles. Spotting Ruby's teetering advance, Maggie calls, "Together, then, Ruby. Kerf and Liya can take the lead." Curving back in a short, sharp loop, she aims her feet for Ruby's position and her pistol back toward those shooting at them.
Liya's steps are wobbly, more than a little out of control, even with the wyvern on her shoulders, digging in, down to the bone. The shooting is something she has no chance to deliberately avoid, but somehow she seems to know where the danger is, just in the knick of time. Only she's not so quick footed at the moment, and one of those bullets wings her leg. If not for Kerf's heroics, she'd have fallen, but with his momentum, she continues forward, stumbling and just about retching her guts out, except they're already empty, given the run they've been on. That's probably a good thing.
Ruby hunches over and retches part of the meat-inna-bun she had before this fun little jog started. The gates of Amber city seem like a long time ago. The gruel adds a bit of colour and stench and she whips her head to free herself of icky sticky strands of saliva that descend from her broad lips. Eyes watering, she hears Merrisol's request. Can't see him exactly, but she uses him as a waypoint of sorts. With Maggie enroute, she screams out a hoarse affirmative. The amazon one-hands the hunk of metal and wood in her grip and sweeps it towards where all those buzzying vip-vip-zwoos are coming from. Lots to choose from. The weapon in her hand 'stutters'. Like a power that was/wasn't quite magic was trying to be leeched or tested due to the void where magic could nestle or at least explain its function. The absence is greedy and confused. But after a stomach-lurching delay of a second or two, there's a lick of lightning around the muzzle and an intense crackle. A bullet takes her square in the kneecap and almost fells her. Rather than shattering it, there's a wild ricochette and a yowl from the tall woman. Ruby is still playing it back and forth (and seeing red) when it surges and erupts.../very/ in sync with her instinctual anger. After-images of lightning searing into her retinas, volleys of elemental force leap forth. The main bolts spawn spiderly filaments that try and seek a connection with metal and exposed detrius. One such shot touches off a magazine and commits the first foreign atrocity to the shadow.
The fatally damaged aircraft comes screaming towards the runners, it's arse making a puffy column of smoke and disintegrating parts. The spotters on its wings are limp ragdolls firmly belted into place, but the pilot tries in vain to save his skin.
Merrisol hooks a hand under Liyandra's arm when she doubles over from nausea, keeping her from pitching headfirst into any number of jutting posts and toppled rock. As long as her legs are still working, they keep moving at a desperate clip, just to stay as moving a target as they can manage, what with the volleys still pelting freely around them. What with the lack of sizzling lightning fire to stay their shots. Another hail of gunfire thunks across their path and Merri's weapon harness rattles from several wild ricochets, leaving his back torn and scored bloody. He restricts himself to strained grunts, running on the last minutes of held air and despairing of the pistol-wielder(s)'s having heard his yell for assistance... when the blasts finally erupt from their team and strike. That might take care of the enemy fire for a few precious moments, but that doesn't mean it's clear sailing from here on out. The aircraft's careening swoop in their direction is like a hard slap in the face by Lady Luck. Merrisol tries to time its descent, like maybe they can get ahead of it if they just keep running at it...? He is ready to dive to the earth, taking Liyandra with him, if necessary, and belly-crawl the rest of the way if they have to!
Maggie darts up to Ruby's position and falls to one knee. Bringing the pistol up at the same time, she tries to ignore the pain in her leg as she mis-lands on half-buried schrapnel. The fabric of her trousers tears with a soft shriek that is undoubtedly lost in the crackle-boom of Ruby's weapon going off. Ignoring the added pain and ooze of her blood into the sand as well as she can, she notes instead that it takes Ruby's pistol time to warm up, which is unfortunate but manageable. Concentrating on the enemy position, she squints her eyes against the afterimages left by Ruby's lightning shot and aims. Depressing the trigger, she is ready for the delay and manages to lead her target as the warrior tries to run away from his shimmering, crackling ex-companion. Finally, the pistol jumps to life in her hands, a lance of blue lightning darting out to find its mark like the tongue of an energy dragon licking up birthday cake icing. If energy dragons do such things.
Liya's feet keep moving forwards that sukhoti stubbornness standing her in good stead at this point, as she is no longer aware of anything other than the pain. She's only half conscious, Sprite now too starting to whimper, as the little wyvern also finds herself coughing and unable to breathe right from the fumes. Liya is going to be very upset, but at least with sprite's claws dug in as they are in Liya's skin, the wyvern doesn't fall off when she loses consciousness. Just hangs there limply, tail around one Liya helping to keep her dead weight in place. Liya cries out, but gets enough of a terror from that, that she manages to okeep moving as Kerf directs.
The plane comes in hard. A bit of a side-to-side roll of its axis, in a mockery of a friendly wave as the soul at the controls fights with his last breaths. If one could see it, there is shock on his face at the existance of people in no man's land. A flash of a thought not occupied with a replay of his life's greatest hits. It's out of his hands though, literally, when the controls fail completely and the aircraft propels forward and down. Either its the death knell of the engine, or the pilot, or a mingling of both that ceases when everything is transformed into a cacophony of flaming mangling of parts and people. A hard whump, shedding of metal and stretched canvas and 'things'. The nose digs in nice and good and then the whole frame goes end over end after it catches on a stubborn section of trenchworks, cartwheeling drunkenly back and forth before Liyandra and Merrisol. Left-right. Left...left. Right. RIGHT!
Ruby revels with adrenaline as she's able to inflict a little horrible to the battlefield. Once she's gotten started, she's really getting into unloading charge after charge. Lacking Maggie's thoughtful aim, she sends erratic shots along the horizon. More fire is directed back towards Maggie and Ruby, seen as a source of bizzare resistance.
Both storm pistols are probably disrupting the dreadful norm of the day. In addition to the evidence of a strange phenomena within the shell-saturated area. Both sides coming to their own conclusions and trying to adapt. When a lash of energy cores through a particularly thick cloud of the toxic gas attack, it creates a short-lived violet fireball that cooks off into a sick vapour.
Okay, so... that was a bad idea. Thinking they could run /under/ a crashing aircraft in time? Bad Kerf. No scooby-snacks for you, perhaps ever again. The drag on Merri's arm increases as Sprite stops assisting with equilibrium, but since it's Liyandra there isn't much of a burden to begin with. And it's really the least of their worries as the plane flips and flops and cartweels at them in its fiery death throes. "Ahh shiii-" he yelps, dispensing with the breath-holding. The barrel-rolling wreck is upon them, and in that second it is clear what they must do. Take the leap while the wing is gouging into the earth and clearing the breadth of it before the body snaps and crushes them to paste. No instructions are issued, just a wild prolonged shout of effort and a squeeze at her arm, and he and Liyandra (and wyvern makes three) leave the ground and dive through that narrow window of evasion. Time might stand still a single moment to afford them a detailed view of the individual rivets and plates that pop and bend in their wake, the pilot flopping as the cockpit folds towards them. Then - they are past and clear and hitting the field of flaming detritus to continue a hectic charge across the remainder of the contested territory, slightly perforated and cooked, but alive. The windowed gatehouse, somehow left untouched by the ravages of endless war, marks the safe checkpoint. Merri staggers into a turn, reluctant to enter the stronghold before knowing where the others are.
Alarms are sounding out from up and down the line. The left, again, is at the fore when it comes to reaction and putting things into motion. A low goose-bump making wail that is cranked up into an air raid siren. A number of clanging bells and alert noises follow suit. More and more attention is sent towards very specific parts of the battlefield. Nothing from the building that Merrisol and Liyandra are at the edge of. Other than a slight heat radiating from the edifice. Gunfire pocks the ground a few yards away, but does not encroach, however it may unnerve.
Taking more careful aim, Maggie listens for some indication of where their friends are. Has this helped? Hurt? What she hears is not a triumphant shout to join them, but the savage horror of an airplane being torn to pieces behind them. She can't even hear Kerf's near-explative in the roar of superheated metal sqreeching out its last. Turning a flash-glance behind her, she spots the death-defying leap, but can't see the result as the fuselage scrunch-rolls along its course. "Ruby." It might be ineffective at first, for her voice is a mere croak in the cacophany of battle. But, Maggie does not leave it to that. She knows that she can't easily be heard, so... taking another shot at someone shooting at them, she yells, "Fall back, Ruby! We need to get to the next position. And make sure that the others made it." Still, her voice is not loud. Not with the noxious gas eating away at her throat, figuratively if not literally. One hand darts out to punch Ruby's shoulder, avoiding any tears, holes or puncture wounds if possible. "Come on! Life for the runners."
It's probably a good thing Liya is half unconscious or she'd likely be running in completely the wrong way in sheer terror. Kerf is trying to kill them both, running them into an airplane. yes, she does know what one of those is, thanks to Random. She lurchruns along with Kerf, just dazedly moving as she can, left and right at random. The falling airplane is noted only because of the heat that it generates, sizzling her a bit, though not too badly, given the salamander on her arm. Gasping for breath, pushing so far through the pain and agony to make it to that checkpoint. Though as Kerf staggers into a turn, Liya's impetus sends her forward to just crumble to the ground behind him, wyvern atop her, in a pile of totally needing a break.
Ruby rocks, buffetted by the slug into her. Her mouth opens and closes, turning wild-eyed to Maggie. Her pistol-wielding hand is still outstretched to the enemy, muzzle pointing sometimes too high or too low. "Whut!" Bullets whizz past and twitch and clothing and kick mud at both. The sizzling barrel is lowered and the import of Maggie's words sinks in. Ruby nods and seems to wake a little. "All...Alroight..." The fire increases on them and Ruby starts to hunch and flinch and start off towards where Merrisol and Liyandra are practically home free. Ruby falls when she's winged again, and hard ricochettes try and carve more deeply into her. She has one pass through her side and she screams but keeps running, pressing a hand to her side. "Oh my Bog..."
Merrisol tears the mask from his face and casts it away, since it holds vestiges of poison smoke and he's better off trying to breathe in this new zone. He swipes grimly at the tears streaming from reddened eyes and braces his legs to stay standing even as Liyandra topples right over. And he does loosen his deathgrip on her arm so as not to keep her from her appointment with the pavement. The frozen look of fear and distress over his features suggests that he hadn't expected Ruby and Maggie to lag this far behind, let alone stop completely to engage in a shoot-out. He takes a few trembling trudges towards them, and gunfire strafes the perimeter as though hoping he'll stray far enough into it that they can retroactively stop the intruder from gaining access to their sacred castle. Pacing like a tiger at the bars of a cage, feeling the occasional ping of a near miss flutter by his leg, Merrisol does what he can right at the edge to distract fire away from the others, including temporarily traipsing back into the neutral zone. What's another bullet wound or three? "C'mon Hotstuff!"
Taking another shot back at the line of defenders or assailants, depending on ones point of view, Maggie lets Ruby get a head start before turning to run as full tilt toward that safe zone as she can. She has relied on determination and luck and, up to now, has escaped with only a wound here and there. Spotting the bloom of red at Ruby's side, Maggie's determination is only redoubled, "Gogogo!" Not that Ruby needs the encouragement, mind. She must be giving her own muscles a well needed pep talk. The bullets that whizz by leave angry buzzing noises in their wake. Unless that is the sound of still more heading their way. One smacks into her side, flinging blood and gore outward as it exits in the front. Another scrapes an angry welt into her calf without doing further damage, "Crap on a cracker!" It isn't much for explitives, but it sounds worse than it is. Unless one is dining at that unfortunate dinner party, of course. One hand lowers to cover the exit wound while the entry
Definitely some downsides to being so tall. There's a loud resounding ~crack~ as a bullet destroys the stock on her pistol and nearly removes her fingers. She nearly drops the whole thing and clutches the sizzling metal to her side to attempt to cauterize the blood leaking from her resilient hide. It's all power that she puts into her loping gait as she moves to rejoin Merrisol. Not far now. Oh crap, Liya's on the ground. She considers, briefly, to use part of the plane wreckage as a shield, but the attention she and Maggie are getting from both sides isn't great. She hopes Maggie is close behind if not about to overtake her. Mostly she just wants to bomb her way past that checkpoint and onto the imaginary safe zone.
Liya starts to move, one hand reaching to pull the mask off her face, because it's not a happy thing, that mask. she manages to think to remove Sprite's as well, but then just curls back up, coughing and hacking and not really conscious.
