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Post by Deleted on Jun 16, 2015 2:25:12 GMT
Winter followed her fellow rebels up to the stone gateposts that marked the edge of their objective. Their mission was to reclaim the property beyond the gate to secure it for their own purposes. The area was strategically cloudy most of the time, without regard to the seasons, and featured a well-kept building that had once been a large English Manor. Having been searching around for abandoned and not fully-rotted human constructs, this manor was a true prize.
There was, however, one problem. This property was currently occupied by a few Dragons subservient to the tyrannical Ryluth. Shotgun in hand, Winter took a deep breath as she sat crouched behind the stone gatepost. Their team had counted a total of three dragons occupying the estate, though among the six of them, spirits were high and ready for a slaughter. The three Dragons had each fallen asleep by the time the sun had begun setting, meaning that, just a half-hour later, it was finally their time to strike.
One by one, they each crept beyond the gateposts, toward the sleeping bulk of the closest Dragon. On cue, four of the rebels split off and then split again, going out into the large grassy knolls in pairs.
Winter felt the change within her as the sun became the lesser light in the night's sky. That was her own signal for the night's fun to begin. For tonight's mission, she was the catalyst.
She broke into a run, pumping her shotgun once to ready it for action. With a leap and a long slide upon the damp grass, she neared the head of the damnable beast and pulled the shotgun's trigger when she was close enough to do considerable damage. The first shot of the night and the one that swiftly followed started a fight that would be unto the death of one party or the other. The Dragon that Winter had shot began to awaken, though swiftly fell back out of consciousness as it's blood gushed rapidly from the softer portion of the base of it's head. There were two Dragons left.
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LONER
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Post by anaya isobel morne on Jun 27, 2015 6:00:00 GMT
Anaya stood a short distance away from the group, watching as they prepared for the fight to come. In moments like these, she missed Excalibur. She missed the camaraderie, the sense of purpose, and the satisfaction that she had felt there. Though she loved it and missed it, she couldn't go back. Not to see all the dragons and humans together, to see what she lost and feel even more guilty about it. Illyana. Her soul still ached at the thought of her lost Dragon.
So she was with the rebels. These people accepted her for who she was and didn't ask questions about her past. All they did ask was that she contributed to the group. Still, sometimes she felt conflicted. She loved Dragons, as a general rule, but at the same time she hated them. She knew it didn't make sense, but that was the truth. She couldn't see a Dragon without thinking of Illyana and missing her, but she also felt an almost uncontrollable rage fill her when she thought of the Queen's Dragons that killed her dearest friend and companion. Each time Anaya came on a raid- such as this one- she had to use that fury to help her fight, because if she looked at these Dragons the way she looked at Illyana she wouldn't be able to fight them, much less kill them.
She took a deep breath and started to sneak to the gateposts with her companions, focusing on the plan being played out in front of her. It was time to fight, possibly with the Dragons that killed Illyana and she was ready. Ready for revenge.
Anaya broke off from the group with another member, wishing she was with Winter. Out of everyone in the rebel camp, she felt like she could trust Winter the most and felt the most comfortable with her, but that wasn't the plan today. For this mission, they paired strong fighters with slightly weaker ones. Winter and Anaya were very good fighters, so naturally they weren't together this time.
They reached a grassy knoll and Anaya waited patiently. In a raid like this, timing was everything and she wasn't going to mess it up. She saw someone- Winter- take down the first Dragon and she smiled to herself. It was time to start.
"It's time to go," she whispered telepathically to the mind of her companion and took off running toward the farthest Dragon. Winter already took care of the first one, so Anaya would start at the other end and hopefully they'd meet somewhere in the middle.
This Dragon wouldn't be as easy as the first because the gun shot that took out the first Dragon woke this one up. It roared at the sight of humans running toward it, obviously intent on attacking it. Anaya stared, still running, when she noticed something seeping from the Dragons mouth- smoke! She rolled her eyes and growled in frustration. Naturally this Dragon would have to be a poison Dragon. "It's a Poison Dragon. Go help the others; I'll take care of this one," she told her companion.
Her running brought her close to the smoke pouring out of the Poison Dragon, so she did the only thing she could do. Putting the pressure on her left leg, Anaya did a baseball slide under the Dragon's poison smoke, simultaneously pulling her flame gun out of the holster on her right leg . Once she passed the dragon, she straightened and fired without missing a beat, smirking as the flames erupted from the end of her gun. She watched confidently as the flames instantly erupted with the poison gas, consuming and following it all the way inside the Dragon. The Dragon roared in confusion and rage before it collapsed on the ground. Anaya turned away as it trembled and twitched for a few seconds before it died.
Once the Dragon stopped its labored breathing and she knew it was dead, Anaya turned around and faced the fight once again, searching for her comrades. How were they doing with the remaining Dragon?
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Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2015 21:15:35 GMT
The raid was already in their favor. As the glowing cloud of smoke, fumes, and fire arose on the far side of the shallow valley, Winter got up from the ground and began to run toward the old, stone manor at the center of the property. She spied the third party strafing and running and shooting, very much in combat with the remaining Dragon.
It wasn't that she hated Dragons... she hated Ryluth and all that were so fanatically subservient to her. Peace between the races would be nice, but forests irritated her twice as much as living underground. That was precisely why she loved about the small rebel band she ran with; The chance to live free as Humans should. As her companion appeared next to her, she silently motioned for him to join the others in their conflict. That third Dragon had fallen asleep close to the Manor's chapel, and while the fight looked to be in favor of her comrades, it looked like the fight could be resolving sooner that it was.
Winter reached the building and stopped for a moment to breathe and observe. She noticed that the third Dragon's wings were severely damaged, both sporting massive holes and broken-bone angles. Half of one wing was even bent perpendicular to what would be considered normal and hanging limp. Winter nodded and shifted her focus to the manor. Moving once more, Winter approached what looked like the front door and wondered what she might find on the other side. Dragons were intriguing beings, in that one could not always tell what they would keep in a box if given the chance. Before kicking down the door, Winter pondered through a number of possibilities.
'Treasure... Human slaves... food... refuse... to-' her thoughts were cut short when she door became kicked down for her by something inside. She felt a sharp pain in her abdomen as the door opened to reveal
"Slaves." she growled. Glaring at the fearful-looking people within the manor, Winter pumped her shotgun and growled out a sharp command for them to run away to the Human Underground or be shot as a traitor to their own species. They didn't react quickly until Winter reached down to pull out whatever had been lodged into her abdomen. It was heavy and poorly-balanced and loudly clattered on the manor's concrete and stone entranceway, but it got their attention as much as it had gotten hers.
As the slaves filed out of the Manor and on to a life of relative freedom, Winter made her way into the doorway of the manor, now holding a hand down on her abdomen to slow any bleeding. She slumped down against the stone wall just inside the entryway and looked out to see that one of the slaves had nailed her with a pitchfork. With full faith in her comrades to finish the raid, Winter set to work cleaning up and patching up the wound. She had already begun to feel light-headed.
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Post by anaya isobel morne on Jul 8, 2015 4:43:13 GMT
Anaya walked slowly toward her comrades, watching as they attacked the remaining dragon. Its roar shook the air and it stomped, causing the ground to tremble slightly, but she wasn’t worried. They were all focused on this Dragon now so it wasn’t going to last long.
She was close now, close enough to see who was attacking the dragon and the tools they were using. She looked at the dragon, curious to see if she could tell what kind it was. She glanced at the wings and froze when she saw the rips and tears in them and her mind was hurled back to the past. In her memory, she was falling through the sky with Illyana, and out of the corner of her eye she could see holes in Illyana’s wing, created by the great fireball that destroyed her. Anaya turned away from the battle in front of her, nauseous. She could handle killing dragons, but torturing them- even unintentionally like this- was too much for her. She didn’t like drawn-out deaths, she preferred the fast ones.
She shuddered as she tried to keep her mind in the present, to stop herself from remembering that horrific day when she lost everything. Struggling to distract herself from the sudden inner turmoil, she threw herself into the minds of those around her. She used to be very good at this, back when Illyana was alive, but it was much more difficult now. Still, she could do it when she pushed herself, like she was in this moment.
She flitted through the minds of her companions, all of which were overjoyed as the Dragon died. Through their minds, she saw the dragon take its last breath and collapse on the ground. She felt their triumph and feelings of achievement and quickly moved from one mind to another, searching for something that could pull her thoughts away her from her pain. Nothing could.
As she finished searching through their minds, Anaya realized something. Winter wasn’t among them. “Winter? Winter where are you?” she called out to Winter telepathically, hoping that Winter would answer. This was not the first time she’d spoken to her this way. “Where did you go?” As she waited for a response, Anaya noticed a group of humans running away from the manor. Who were they? Slaves? Is that where Winter went? Without waiting for a response, she started walking swiftly towards the manor.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2015 4:19:51 GMT
The bleeding wasn't exactly stopping. Winter silently organized the treatment in her mind as she kept a constant pressure upon her abdomen.
'Tetanus shot. Bandage wraps. Water. Alcohol.' she thought, breathing heavier than she was before.
Winter cursed through gritted teeth as she attempted to pull herself into an upright position. "Bastards. Ingrates. GAAHHGH!" Her sharp cry caught herself off guard as she tried to stand up. Willpower aside, pain shot across her body in jagged streaks, pushing her close to a black out. Quite suddenly to her a new sensation came to her attention as she suddenly felt like she wasn't alone. Looking around, she saw no slaves, nor any of her rebel brothers or sisters. Realization dawned upon her when she heard Anaya's voice echoing in her mind. Thank the gods that the poor girl was alive.
'Winter? Winter where are you?' Where did you go?', Winter heard, the sound seemingly bouncing around the room.
'Inside manor.' Winter mentally replied. 'Injured. Pitchfork. Slave. Didn't shoot the little shit. Wanted to. Out there: Status? Dragons dead?'
With that she devoted her attention to moving through the house in search of any of the items that she had thought of. The entryway wasn't exactly a great place to find anything useful at all.
Making her way through the house's lower level, she found a drawer of white-linen tablecloths which were clean enough to wrap around her midsection in a tight manner. She still kept pressure on the wound, Winter tucked another folded up tablecloth or two into her backpack. What water she could find, a few minutes later in the kitchen, was far from clean enough to trust near a wound. Alcohol seemed to be absent too until Winter found a half-empty bottle of brandy in a cabinet. This, she decided, would serve her better in her stomach than on a wound. After a struggle to remove the stopper, Winter raised a silent toast to her comrades and took a long draught.
Winter leaned back against a nearby wall, waiting for the others to join her inside the Manor. It hurt to do so, but she couldn't help coughing as the thick fluid burned its way down her throat.
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LONER
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Post by anaya isobel morne on Jul 12, 2015 3:21:06 GMT
Anaya breathed out heavily in relief when she heard Winter's answer, "Inside manor." However, Anaya's relief was short-lived. The next word she heard was "injured." She started running towards the manor, instantly nervous. From Anaya's point of view, Winter had a habit of minimizing her injuries and difficulties so she was worried about this one. She barely heard Winter's question: Status? Dragons's dead?"
Anaya shook her head slightly as she ran through the front door of the manor. "Yeah, the dragons are all dead. Everyone else is fine. Where are you? This place is huge!" Anaya stared around herself as she slowed to a quick walk. Where would Winter have gone? She thought for a minute, then decided to try where she would have gone: the kitchen.
She walked inside and rushed to Winter when she saw her across the room, leaning against the far wall. Hurrying to her, Anaya spoke out loud, a sign of her deep concern. "Winter, what can I use to help you? Is there anything useful here?" She reached Winter and was instantly furious at the stupid slave who attacked her friend. Winter was bleeding a lot; clearly her wounds were deep and Anaya wasn't sure if they had the materials to help her.
She mentally reached out to her other companions, "Winter is injured. We're in the kitchen. Make sure everything is taken care of outside and then bring all the medical supplies we have to us. Hurry! She turned her attention to Winter, whose face was completely white. Anaya was worried and not sure what else she could do to help. If all else failed, she did see signs of the Excalibur camp nearby, but that was a last option. She didn't want to go back there if she didn't have to.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 21, 2015 4:19:27 GMT
Winter's pulse was regulating. As long as she didn't move, she could avoid her abdomen feeling like it was being torn asunder. She tried to breath more regularly, but deeper breaths meant sharper pains.
"Stitching?" she said after sucking down more of the brandy. "Internal damage. Get James here. Fast. Temp Fix. Poor Supplies. Pick one: Kill the pain or knock me out."
Winter tugged on Anaya's arm with a hand that was paler than she had ever seen. Setting down the brandy, she tugged herself close enough to rest her head upon her comrade's shoulder. Before thought could register clearly in her mind, Winter had tightened her grip on Anaya's sleeve and had wrapped her other arm around Anaya's shoulder. Free hand, now gently stroking the younger woman's red-tinted hair. As instinct fought for total control, Winter only desired distraction from the pain.
Eventually aware enough to recall that more important matters were at hand, Winter did manage to stop herself. She halted her trembling lips from reaching Anaya's neck and bit down on her lower lip instead. She needed adrenaline, not dopamine. As a means of focus, Winter did her best to contribute to the situation.
Through a fairly non-painful pattern of short-breathing, Winter got out, "Lock Jaw. Rusty pitchfork. I give it days. Muscle-relaxant. Not much left. Next raid hospital. Ya know?"
"Good work outside." Winter added. Her eyes fixated, gazing at Anaya's neck while beginning to slowly close. "This place. Tactical. Dragons farther. Humans closer."
By the dreaded ones, she wanted to give in. The nocturnal mindset craved the pleasure... the distraction. It was all she could do to hide the thoughts from her friend, too embarrassed to admit the feelings of exactly one-half of her being.
"Forgive me. Dear Anaya. Sunrise. Few Hours. Sun makes it go."
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Post by anaya isobel morne on Jul 24, 2015 3:34:04 GMT
Anaya was worried. Winter was pale as death and Anaya didn't know if they had the supplies to help her. She half-listened to Winter as she reached out to James in her mind. "James, come quick! Make sure you bring all your medical supplies with you; Winter is badly injured and it's beyond my abilities to heal. Also, we're out of pain killers, right?" Anaya's last question was more of a formality because even if they did have pain killers, she wasn't sure if they'd help. After all, Winter already drank most of a bottle of brandy and she still seemed to be in a lot of pain. If she wanted a break from the pain, it seemed like Anaya would have to knock her out.
As Winter pulled herself against Anaya, Anaya took the opportunity to look more closely at Winter's abdomen. The entire area was soaked in her blood, but the wound itself seemed to be covered up by a white cloth. Wherever did Winter find that? "Winter, I'm sorry, but I have to remove this bandage before James gets here so he can help you more efficiently." Anaya paused when she heard James in her mind, telling her that they were out of pain killers. She closed her eyes briefly in frustration; why was everything going wrong tonight? "All right Winter, James says that we're out of pain killers. Do you want me to knock you out before he comes or do you want to wait?"
Slowly, Anaya removed her arm from Winter's grasp and then pulled a knife out of her boot. "Be careful Winter, don't move. Hang in there," she thought, so focused on what she was about to do that she didn't realize she spoke telepathically instead of out loud. Moving carefully so she wouldn't accidentally hurt Winter more, she sliced through the first layer of the white cloth. To her annoyance, it was harder to do than she expected. This was not going to be easy.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 5, 2015 4:50:03 GMT
If there was one thing Winter was thankful for, it was the fact that pain was more tolerable at night than it was during the day. Waking up, whenever that was going to be, was going to suck, though she would undoubtedly be in better condition. She winced as Anaya began to cut into the makeshift bandaging. The blood-soaked skin beneath began to relax, and the puncture wounds in her abdomen felt as if they were loosed once more.
She realized it might be distressing to those involved, though she saved her breath for when James arrived. He did arrive momentarily after, though he did so, making as much clatter and noise as he could. Classic James.
"Cut awwayy, Ddoc" Winter slurred as the alcohol began to affect more than her senses. "Llet Jamess ssend mee out. His handss. Soo smmooth."
Winter closed her eyes and thought to Anaya, 'Should stand back. Don't forget me, dear Anaya.' The world around her was slowly fading. Sounds became fuzzy, light became dim, her lips and nose became numb. She barely felt the last of the makeshift wrappings as they were loosed from around her abdomen. What she had warned Anaya about came next.
James's hands reached out and took a firm hold of the pressure points at the base of Winter's neck. Within moments, feeling flooded her senses. All Winter could feel in those moments was pain. She screamed new decibels of obscenity and bloody murder - eyes open, legs kicking, arms thrashing, the nocturnal mindset fighting for survival as all it felt was threatened. James held on through the ordeal, never letting up. Winter felt to be on the brink of shock from the overload, though even that was short lived. Darkness fell over her like a blanket: limp and much akin to how she looked when James layed her body across the length of the nearby counter-top. Winter fell to the forced sleep, unsure if she would get to dream or even return.
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Post by anaya isobel morne on Aug 6, 2015 5:58:59 GMT
Though Anaya was planning to offer her assistance to James, she froze when Winter spoke to her mind one last time. "Don't forget me, dear Anaya." Somehow the words seemed so final, so unchangeable, almost as though Winter had given up hope already of recovery, which was the last thing Anaya expected. She thought her friend would fight viciously until the end. She'd never seen Winter give up before. She watched as James reached forward, applying pressure to the base of Winter's neck in order to knock her out. Anaya watched Winter's struggle, not even thinking about intervening or trying to help.
Anaya only started paying attention when James spoke directly to her, "Anaya this is bad. I don't have the right supplies to help her. We need to find more supplies or get her to someone that can help before it's too late."
The next few seconds seemed like hours to Anaya. Her mind raced as she tried to decide what she should do. Should she go to Excalibur, who definitely had the supplies to help and were nearby, or take a chance that they might be able to find someone else that could help? The answer was clear, so clear that it was hardly a question, but she still hesitated. She didn't want to go back to Excalibur, not even for a day. She didn't want to see the pity on people's faces when they realized who she was and what she did and she most certainly did not want people pressuring her for details about that nightmare of a day. Still, she knew that if she didn't go to Excalibur, Winter would most likely die.
"I think I know somewhere we can go," she hesitated briefly once more, knowing that if she continued there was no going back. "I saw signs of the Excalibur Camp on the way here. Let me run ahead to their camp to see if I can convince them to help us. You get the others to help you transport Winter and follow my tracks. I'll be careful to leave clear ones for you. I'll set off right away. Please hurry."
James nodded as his eyes scanned the kitchen quickly. Anaya knew he was looking for something- anything- that might make transporting Winter easier. She took one last look at her friend, pale and covered in blood before she turned away. Even though she knew Winter was unconscious and probably couldn't hear her, she spoke to her mind as she made a promise. "Hold on, Winter. I'll get you the help you need, I promise. Just hold on." Without turning back, Anaya ran from the room, out of the manor, and hurried in the direction she thought the Excalibur camp was. She couldn't waste any time.
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