[center] [img]http://i.imgur.com/xRj8oPR.png[/img] [img]http://i.imgur.com/0iaKLUp.png[/img] [img]http://i.imgur.com/Zx2AxaJ.png[/img] [img]http://i67.tinypic.com/2njvpci.png[/img] [img]http://i67.tinypic.com/2pzxlvr.png[/img] [h2][color=a2d9ce]Callan[/color] | [color=0095FF]Grant[/color] | [color 33ec06]Marcus[/color] | [color=ff57ff]Siena[/color] | [color=lightcoral]Lily[/color][/h2] [hr][color=silver]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟛, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / ℂ𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕟 ℂ𝕦𝕝𝕡𝕒𝕖 𝟙 / / ℕ𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕜𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕤 [/color][hr] [sub]Collab with [@Baklava][@Deathmyster][@Chasers115][@PapiTan][@Kyrisse][/sub][/center] Watching after Lily, Callan's attention was drawn to a dark brown mess of hair peppered with blond strands darting ahead of Lily with inhuman speed. She barely had enough time to fill her lungs with a gasp before Shane entombed the boy in crystal-- but not before the boy proved that he was more than capable of cracking Shane's wall. What the hell was that all about? She noted the black X marring the crazed student's throat and she felt a sudden chill. Why had he tried to attack Shane just now? Was that... was that what a stigma did? Her research on the subject had yielded more questions than answers-- the result of people speculating over the last 10 years and the governent being suspiciously unwilling to share their research. She once again tried to remind herself that giving that online thread she'd found a proper look would probably be to her benefit. Though the boy's well-being concerned her, everything seemed to be under control. If Shane was going to kill him, she knew he already could have. Marcus' question managed to stop her from thinking too deeply on the matter-- though she wouldn't soon forget what she'd just seen. "[color 33ec06]How're you feeling, Cal?[/color]" Marcus said, turning to their resident super hero. "[color 33ec06]Don't try and play tough, we all saw you get grand-slam swatted back there, and we can't have our lead star sitting out the next fight; we'll all get kil-[/color]" his voice caught in his throat, and his face immediately paled as his memory brought forward an unpleasent fact: there [i]had[/i] been casualties. In the thick of the battle, he'd nearly managed to forget it. Now that he had the time for everything to catch up to him, the weight of the realization pressed down on him like an iron weight. She tore her eyes away from scene. With a sheepish scoff, Callan absentmindedly scrunched her ponytail as she replied, warmth spreading across her cheeks, "[color=a2d9ce]It wasn't so bad. I might go see Christmas later about my leg. I think it'll take a while to heal, but I can deal for now. Anyway, I wasn't much of a lead this round. You guys did way better than me. I didn't kill a damn thi--[/color]" she paused, noticing the odd expression on Marcus' face. Was it something she said? "[color=a2d9ce]Uh... well, I might not go see Christmas after all. The blood thing [i]is[/i] kinda hard to swallow... no pun intended.[/color]" Her eyes swept over the rest of the group as she spoke, wanting to let everyone know what a good job they did. Almost everyone was there. She spotted Siena off a little ways, but where was.... "[color=a2d9ce]Where's Padma?[/color]" No words, just action. He walked past his teammates, classmates, without a word, to where Padma laid. Where what was left of Padma laid. He stared down at the body, his eyes lidded, blinking slowly. He didn't grieve, he didn't cry. He just stood in thought as he looked at the body. Was there something he could've done? Would it have been possible to somehow save her... Of course, he wouldn't find out. Not now. Now that she's already gone. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. [color=0095FF]"Sorry..."[/color] He muttered under his breath. [color=0095FF]"I'm sorry I didn't do anything..."[/color] As Grant passed, Cal followed him with her eyes for a moment before looking ahead. There she was. Padma. Lifeless as could be. Her hand slid tightly over her mouth and her breath caught in her throat. She was deathly silent and her eyes seemed void of any emotion as they stared at her teammate's lifeless form. For one blissful moment she felt nothing at all as she tried to comprehend her feelings, which suddenly felt like a lottery wheel of emotion. Happy it hadn't been her, sad she was dead, angry she hadn't been there to stop it, surprised to see more death so soon, happy it hadn't been Marcus-- or Siena, sad that her loved ones would miss her, angry that nobody had called for her help-- even though she probably wouldn't have made it in time. Angry that the school hadn't given everyone weapons to fight with. Angry that Grant hadn't watched her back. Angry that she was dead. The wheel had stopped spinning. She barely heard Grant's muttered apology-- speaking over him before he even ended his sentence, "[color=a2d9ce]What the fuck happened?[/color]" Her eyes darkened as she shifted her gaze from Padma to Grant. "[color=a2d9ce]You were supposed to watch her back! What the fuck happened?![/color]" she stepped towards him, lowering her hands, which tightened into fists. Her voice cracked as she asked the question a second time, her face a mixture of frustration, confusion, and helplessness. Grant barely turned his head, opening his eyes to glance at the angered Callan, who directed her frustrated words toward him. As if it were his fault. His fault. His fault? His brows furrowed ever so slightly as he looked back at the body. They stood in silence as he recollected the events. The events before and during her death... He let the silence in that moment linger before he slowly shook his head. [color=0095FF]"It was so quick.. I was so focused on just chucking rocks, I didn't even notice the squirrels so close... Those squirrels... They tried to attack me. Kill me, and I froze... I just froze... And when I couldn't defend myself, she did. And even though she was right there, right in front of me... struggling... dying..."[/color] He held the knife with a death grip. [color=0095FF]"I did nothing."[/color] Was the last thing to come from his mouth as an explanation. His voice was, as usual, tired, almost regretful. Yet no sadness, no grievence. No anger, frustration. It was on the complete opposite spectrum of Callan's emotional outburst toward him. The silence that hung in the air only fueled the panicked fire that was building inside of her-- and his response did little to provide any comfort. In fact, the lack of emotion as he spoke-- sounding more sleepy than sorry-- caused her shoulders to shake and tears to well up in the corners of her eyes. The same lack of emotion she had felt the night before. More sleepy than sorry. Could she have saved her? Could she have saved any of them? Callan inhaled sharply, cocking her head to the side. "[color=a2d9ce][i]Nothing?![/i] How could you do nothing?![/color]" her voice rose. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken at such a high volume. Her shadow started to flicker. It twitched unnaturally, darkening as the edges seemed to harden. "[color=a2d9ce]Sh-she's fucking dead! And you just stood there and watched![/color]" It was Cal's voice that caught Siena's attention. The volume enough to cut through the rest of the din. Enough to pull Siena's head out of the ocean and keep her floating for a moment longer. Following the sound, the brunette soon found her teammates. Almost all of them. [i]Padma.[/i] If there was a voice left in Siena's body, it vanished as her eyes went over to the lifeless body. The cry for help that she would have, [i]should have[/i] made lost in the booming thunder echoing through the storm. Back under the water, the emotions threatened to drown her as the adrenaline sank to the pit of her stomach, heavy now that it had run its course. Anger. Regret. [i]Guilt.[/i] The final of the three was the final blow, stealing away Siena's breath entirely as the ocean threatened to boil over. Pinpricks in the back of her eyes. Heat that reminded her she was alive. Pain dug deep, anchored her in the sea as she lingered a short distance away from the others. [i]'[color=ff57ff]It was my fault.[/color]'[/i] But she was too much of a coward to say it. She deserved to drown in the sea. Marcus stood by, silently. He'd neglected to say anything when Callan's questioned pierced his mind like a dagger, but he fortunately wasn't the one that had to tell her. In all honesty, he wouldn't have known how to approach the topic if he had been the one that needed to. Now, he stood back and watched his roommate tear into their teammate. It was only when she started getting heated that he stepped in, his stressed mind paying no attention to the twitching shadow on the ground. "[color 33ec06]Callan.[/color]" he said softly, almost placing his hand on her shoulder, but pulling back. "[color 33ec06]Settle down. It's not Grant's fault; most of us haven't even seen those things, much less fought against them.[/color]" his voice was growing a bit stronger now, as the color flushed back to his face. "[color 33ec06]There's no way we could have been ready for this so soon. Nobody did anything wrong, it just...happened.[/color]" he had no idea how comforting or defusing this was supposed to be, but the words just didn't seem to be there. He stopped, looking off to the side in silence. [i]'[color=ff57ff]Liar.[/color]'[/i] She hadn't noticed the loud thumping in her ears until it started to fade upon hearing her name-- it sounded distant and far away. Her mind numbing frustration was shattered as she realized it was Marcus speaking to her. She took a step back and her shadow, unnoticed, returned back to normal. Defeated, she sniffled, wiped the remnants of her almost-tears away and sighed, biting down on her lip. He was right-- she couldn't blame Grant for this. He was just some kid that woke up one morning with powers and a streak on his cheek. That's all any of them were-- the X's, too. He probably hadn't even had them for more than a week-- if her own timeline was any reference. But still.... "[color=a2d9ce]I fucked up.... I shouldn't have charged ahead and left you guys,[/color]" she said dejectedly. "[color 33ec06]Hey now. What did I [i]just[/i] say?[/color]" Marcus said, his voice nearly demanding. If Callan turned to look at him, she'd fine a mix of soft anger, tempered by a quiet understanding. "[color 33ec06]Nobody did anything wrong. That includes you. Look at your leg right now and tell me what that thing would have done to the rest of us if it got close.[/color]" his eyes flitted away for a moment, and his hand instinctively reached up to fiddle with the dog tags around his neck. "[color 33ec06]People die now. It happens. Sometimes there's nothing you can do about it.[/color]" he finished, his eyes darting back to address Callan. "[color=a2d9ce]God, I know. I just... I wish there was,[/color]" Callan looked back at Padma, but couldn't bring herself to look any further than the girl's shoes, "[color=a2d9ce]Grant, I'm sorry. Marcus is right-- it's... it's nobody's fault.[/color]" She said that, but her guilt lingered-- made worse by realizing how stupid she'd been for snapping at Grant. Of all people, he probably felt the worst about what happened-- and she'd only encouraged it. She glanced between Grant, Siena, and Marcus, opening the apology up to them as well. [i]'[color=ff57ff]It was mine.[/color]'[/i] But her coward heart dared not break the peace that began to settle. They were already calming, even if her personal storm was reaching its peak. [i]She hated this part.[/i] It was her own fault this time. Not dubious events that she couldn't pinpoint the reality of when everything was left in shambles inside. Not faceless loss after faceless loss made to pull herself together when the floodgates couldn't hold. In the event of Marcus calming Callan down, Grant simply stood there, taking her emotional words before Marcus had stepped in. Wasn't his fault... Was his fault... he wasn't sure anymore. He was just tired. When he finally heard his name once more from her, in a much more calm tone, he focused in on her words. Nobody's fault. He let out air through his nose quietly as he turned away from the body, simply nodding in response. [color=0095FF]"I'm going to the trucks..."[/color] He'd say lastly before he began walking to said trucks. Marcus wasnt quite sure how to take the whole thing. Grant seemed okay, but he honestly didn't know the guy well enough to determine if he was [i]actually[/i] okay. He sighed softly, looking back to Callan. "[color 33ec06]You sure you don't want to head over and get yourself patched up? Some of those burns look pretty bad.[/color]" The words came out slowly, and although he tried, he couldn't force a happier expression on his face. He was tired right now, not just physically, and he longed to leave this battlefield behind him. Callan was silent for moment before answering-- staring after Grant and lost in thought. She turned away and weakly shook her head, "[color=a2d9ce]I'm fine.[/color]" As she spoke she looked down at her leg. The deep gash made by the monster's beak, amidst its painful throbbing, had managed to bleed through the sleeve of her shirt-- she'd known this, but failed to notice that it hadn't stopped bleeding since. Two hours might be too long for a few stitches at this rate. She curled her lips into a frustrated snarl and sighed. "[color=a2d9ce]Shit...[/color]" she hissed, "[color=a2d9ce]Mm... no, I think I can make it.[/color]" "[color 33ec06]Really?[/color]" Marcus said, bringing his hand up to his chin in a thoughtful position. "[color 33ec06]'Cause, and I'm no doctor here, so correct me if I'm wrong; but I'm pretty sure all that blood is supposed to stay on the inside of your body.[/color]" he finished, his joking demeanor immediately shifting into business, bringing with it an equal change in his tone. "[color 33ec06]Swallow your pride, go over there and...what? Drink his blood? Ew.[/color]" he stopped for a moment as he watched the medical process their healers were going through, but quickly got back on topic. "[color 33ec06]Go over there and drink the blood, or I swear to god I'll hide your crutches while you sleep.[/color]" "[color=a2d9ce]Have you seen that guy?[/color]" she grimaced, "[color=a2d9ce]He looks half dead already![/color]" "[color 33ec06]I doubt they'll drain him dry. If they need to stop, I'm sure they'll stop. Zhang's probably monitoring him or something.[/color]" Marcus said, looking over to where the boy lay. He didn't particularly look to be the healthiest, but if they said stop, that would be the end of it. "[color 33ec06]I'm not dragging you to the infirmary because you passed out on the transport ride back. Go.[/color]" he said, nodding his head in the direction of the rest of the people being healed. She sighed looking down at her blood soaked leg. For a moment she considered removing the sleeve wrap to reassess the damage, but that probably wouldn't help her case. Anyway, Marcus seemed to know what he was talking about and the thought of passing out because of this didn't exactly appeal to her. Of course, Christmas' blood didn't either, but... if it wouldn't kill him, maybe he could spare a few drops. "[color=a2d9ce]Yes, [i]mother[/i],[/color]" Callan sighed with defeat, managing half a smile before she headed off in Lily's direction. Despite how awfully bleak everything seemed, it felt good to be able to smile-- at least a little bit. Hope was something she'd felt she was sincerely lacking these days. Recover. Live to fight another day. Stay strong. She was grateful for the unintended reminder-- as well as the concern. As Callan walked away, Marcus took one brief look down at the body where it rested. It was hard to believe that less than an hour ago, she'd been riding a transport over with them and prepping herself for combat. [i][color 33ec06]People die now. It happens.[/color][/i] As much as he desperately wanted anything different, the words he'd said were true. They seemed to help the others at least, if the diffusion of the argument were anything to go by, but he didn't truly believe them himself. He contemplated saying some words, something to 'help the departed along', something to fill the deafening silence that hung around him. After a long moment, failing to find the proper response, he settled on a soft "[color 33ec06]Thank you.[/color]" Grant left shortly after, leaving Marcus and Callan to have their exchange. Leaving Siena enough courage to finally, [i]finally[/i] approach the body, mind a cacophany of "what if" and "if only." With Callan starting to move towards Lily, that really only left Marcus and Padma. Weight pressed in the back of Siena's head. Her fault. [i]'[color=ff57ff]You have no one left to hide behind now.[/color]'[/i] Mocking words rang clear in her head. Clearer than everything else. She [i]wanted[/i] to be drowning. The storm quieted in the realization, leaving behind serenity for a terrifying moment of clarity. A moment where she could almost catch a glimpse of the endless expanse. Infinite. Incomprehensible as eternity was. Just a few drops of the storm. [i]This storm is yours to take. Calm, lightning, and all.[/i] And just as quickly as it had come, the eye passed, leaving Siena to the mercy of the new set of emotions that took turns to batter her. Disgust over the calm, frustration that despite what she told herself to feel, the tears refused to come. That she wanted to grieve, but was too absorbed in her own problems to do it properly. Lost again in the wake of what she'd felt. No one left to hide behind. Finally regaining her voice, Siena turned her attention towards the lone familiar face left. "[color=ff57ff]I...I'm glad you're alive.[/color]" The words came out shaky, just as battered as she felt, but stronger she had thought they would be. Between the mental and physical exertion, there was little that seemed more appealing than following Grant to a truck and closing her eyes, but that would have meant being alone with every thought she tried to hide behind another name. Ezio. Gavin. Marcus. She just needed someone to hide behind. "[color=ff57ff]Do you think Cal will be okay...?[/color]" [i]'[color=ff57ff]More okay than I feel, at least...[/color]'[/i] Marcus gave a weak smile, if only to show that he was alright. "[color 33ec06]Yeah, me too. Good to see you're still kicking as well.[/color] he said, his usual enthuasim somewhat lacking. He turned to look at Callan as Siena mentioned her, turning back and shrugging. "[color 33ec06]I hope so; I don't want her bleeding all over the carpet when we get back. How about you? You doin' alright?[/color]" he said. The tone of his voice hopefully made it apparent that he wasn't just talking about being physically well. Siena hadn't said much yet, and he wasn't getting a very good read on how she was handling the aftermath. As much as he didn't want to be the stoic, 'put your mind at ease' guy, he'd take up the mantle if he had to. He was just as exhausted. Siena internally grimaced, another trickle of guilt curling deep into the rest of the pit. Instinctively, her fingers curled into the ends of whatever locks had sprung loose from their usual confines, curling, pulling. Satisfaction coming with every barely audible [i]snap[/i] of a strand breaking under pressure. "[color=ff57ff]I should be asking you that.[/color]" Because it wasn't the first time she was left with an aftermath. Not the first time she'd felt loss that cut deep enough to ache in her bones, and it wouldn't be the last if she kept using her abilities. With a modicum of effort, Siena pushed the emotions back down her throat, to the back of her mind where they had less space to run rampant. There was no use in trying to compartmentalize them when it was [i]her[/i] and not someone else. [i]Her problems, not his.[/i] "[color=ff57ff]But thanks for the concern.[/color]" She tried her best to return the weak smile, found that she was too exhausted to manage emotional labor, and quickly switched to an apologetic look when the expression faded quickly into little more than a tired uptick of the lips. A thought that bordered on a fuzzy memory came to mind. "[color=ff57ff]Don't push yourself too hard.[/color]" Or else he would break like so many others that put themselves behind others. Despite her best attempts, she could feel the desperation and concern break through the facade she tried to keep going. A quick nervous scratch of the head to turn her face away in case anything cracked the mask was all that Siena could afford before she spoke again. "[color=ff57ff]I um...I mean...you've been taking care of everyone else so far, so you should take care of yourself first.[/color]" It took most of her self control not to turn her statement into a nervous question--[i]Why? Because you know you're only saying it because you know Gerwulf would have?[/i]--but it was enough...wasn't it? "[color 33ec06]Yeah. Trust me, I'm doin' my best here.[/color]" Marcus mumbled. It came out a little harsher than he meant it to; a little more honest than he intended. Almost surprised at his own bluntness, a more upbeat comment quickly followed, as if it were a built in reflex: "[color 33ec06]I'm rewarding myself with a nice hot bubble bath when we get back. It's the least I deserve after making sure all you guys don't drip all over the nice beds they've provided.[/color]" he chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. He opened his mouth to follow up with something else; another witty comment, a joke, something to lighten the mood, but found his words had abandoned him. He stammered out nothing, resigning himself to his silence. A quick sigh, and an almost pained look showed that he didn't have anything left to raise spirits. "[color 33ec06]Thanks[/color]" Halfway to where Lily was, a black thread wrapped itself around Callan's wrist. While the supergirl did say that she didn't need her injuries taken, Lily didn't really believe she wanted to stay hurt too long. That, and the fact that Lily wanted to prioritize her team mates. There was a cry of pain from the golden haired girl as all of Cal's injuries transferred to her. The black string promptly dissipated. She paused at the black thread that materialized around her wrist, followed by an immense feeling of relief as the gash, as well as the burns, dissipated. Poor Lily. She winced at the sound of the girl's cry. She wanted to shout a thank you, but with so many other people around, her desire not draw anymore attention to herself won out. She'd thank her personally on the ride home... maybe send her a 'Thanks for healing me!' card. Maybe she'd send one to Christmas too if she ever managed to get over how weirdly nonconsensuall this all seemed. Behind her, she overheard Siena talking to Marcus and glanced back at them over her shoulder. She felt a strange pang of isolation, but brushed it aside-- instead choosing to think about Padma. [color=a2d9ce][i]I won't let your death be in vain.[/i][/color] She nodded to herself, resolve renewed.