Chapter Text
Taka ???:
Taka quickly manoeuvres again, trying to stay a hard-to-hit target for the Engiknight, almost like his movements were practiced, and he had been in strikingly similar situations.
From a bandoleer he quickly pulls out some infrared rounds and tosses them into the air around the law enforcement officer, and with a bang he sets them off in a chain reaction of flashes, loud bangs and white smoke.
"Go! Go!" he shouts as he directs the Qashite groups towards the escape route, "rapido rapido!"
Taka ???:
Taka quickly manoeuvres again, trying to stay a hard-to-hit target for the Engiknight, almost like his movements were practiced, and he had been in strikingly similar situations.
From a bandoleer he quickly pulls out some infrared rounds and tosses them into the air around the law enforcement officer, and with a bang he sets them off in a chain reaction of flashes, loud bangs and white smoke.
"Go! Go!" he shouts as he directs the Qashite groups towards the escape route, "rapido rapido!"
???:
The wolffolk staggers behind, nose twitching as the sewer's entrance fills with shadows. He reaches out with a jerky clawed arm, placing it on Armando's shoulder and twists him around. Confusion flickers in his expression and drops his hand abruptly, recoiling, like he was burned.
"Not… comrade?" he rasps, voice cracked and raw, as if he’s swallowed jagged rocks. He freezes, eyes widening. He touches his chest, his throat. At the voice of Saint and Taka, he whips around. "Who?" he growls, fingers twitching against the vibration of his throat. His eyes narrow into slits, faintly glowing in the dark.
"Who... you?" His nose quivers.
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Taka:
"Woah, woah." Taka is taken back by the suddenness of the wolffolk's motions, he slowly holsters his long gun onto his back and makes a careful movement to take his helmet off, probably best not to wear it infront of whoever this is.
" Hola ." He starts, calmly, "I'm Taka, my friends and I." he motions towards Armando, Ella and Benoit, "We're mercenaries... Who are you, amigo ."
---
???:
His nostrils flare. "Junels. Humans. Half-beast. Half-human," he growls to himself in Ulfskall—a guttural sounding dialect native to his tribe. His eyes dart between the ragtag group assembled, sharp and brief, cataloguing. "Normals. Lusterborn.” Then his gaze settles onto Taka. flashing with a sudden intensity, nose working furiously. “ Sanctified .”
With a sudden snarl, he winces and pulls back his muzzle, revealing sharp fangs. "You," he growls, addressing the group, voice rough and uneven as he backs away jerkily, joints popping. "You…should not be here."
Two of the thugs shake their head, while the other two were busy avoiding danger to respond to her.
———
"Stray":
A hulking figure of a wolffolk stumbles out, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. He lies there on the cold metal floor for a moment, broad, heavily scarred, horns and spurs glinting—before shuddering violently. His chest heaves, a ragged gasp escaping as he chokes on the singed air. His body hunches low over the ground, arms braced against the ground, claws scraping, trembling as sensation flows back into his limbs. A sharp, dry heave wracks through him—but nothing comes. Just the tight clench of his stomach, the ragged hitch of his breath, the desperate gulp for air that won’t come fast eno
Andorra-Lopez del Torre
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" Joder ...Trafficking now?" The Engiknight tries to flash his badge towards the mysterious victim, only to find it pilfered by Taka! Arlo shouts, "I am a civil Engiknight, please get on the ground, come to me, I will protect you!"
Andorra-Lopez del TorreAPP
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—
The days pass in peace, save for the one turbulence caused by the unexpected but welcome return of Wind. The Rime Sentinels spend their time bonding, through firearms and being collectively scolded by Qub and Lai for doing something so dangerous, if not allowing it. Deep into the third evening atop The Stellan , one of the Stellan's many crystal hummed louder than the rest. As Jiroq hovered her hand over, a sound crackled to life.
*Saludos* - You are nearing Nuevadorran airspace and are not a charted flight. Please identify your ship's clearance for landing or you will be asked to leave.
A gulp grips Jiroq's throat as she scrambles for something in the drawers, muttering "Crap crap crap..."
*Saludos* - do you copy? The status of our magitek transmitters are functioning. Please respond with your ship's clearance for landing or you will be asked to leave.
"Crap!" shouted Jiroq. "Qub, where's our papers?"
Qub shouts back, "Oi, oi, Düü! You put them under the wheel so you wouldn't miss them!"
———
The days pass in peace, save for the one turbulence caused by the unexpected but welcome return of Wind. The Rime Sentinels spend their time bonding, through firearms and being collectively scolded by Qub and Lai for doing something so dangerous, if not allowing it. Deep into the third evening atop The Stellan , one of the Stellan's many crystal hummed louder than the rest. As Jiroq hovered her hand over, a sound crackled to life.
*Saludos* - You are nearing Nuevadorran airspace and are not a charted flight. Please identify your ship's clearance for landing or you will be asked to leave.
A gulp grips Jiroq's throat as she scrambles for something in the drawers, muttering "Crap crap crap..."
*Saludos* - do you copy? The status of our magitek transmitters are functioning. Please respond with your ship's clearance for landing or you will be asked to leave.
"Crap!" shouted Jiroq. "Qub, where's our papers?"
The days pass in peace, save for the one turbulence caused by the unexpected but welcome return of Wind. The Rime Sentinels spend their time bonding, through firearms and being collectively scolded by Qub and Lai for doing something so dangerous, if not allowing it. Deep into the third evening atop The Stellan, one of the Stellan's many crystal hummed louder than the rest. As Jiroq hovered her hand over, a sound crackled to life.
*Saludos* - You are nearing Nuevadorran airspace and are not a charted flight. Please identify your ship's clearance for landing or you will be asked to leave.
A gulp grips Jiroq's throat as she scrambles for something in the drawers, muttering "Crap crap crap..."
*Saludos* - do you copy? The status of our magitek transmitters are functioning. Please respond with your ship's clearance for landing or you will be asked to leave.
"Crap!" shouted Jiroq. "Qub, where's our papers?"
Qub shouts back, "Oi, oi, Düü! You put them under the wheel so you wouldn't miss them!"
———