[Center]Kiku-Central Apartments [/Center] In truth, Kiku didn’t much know how successful her little plan for vengeance had been. She saw that the Ninja-lady was as much of a ninja as she’d expected, because the grenade went soaring towards the bad guys. After that, things just started to get a little hazy. Perhaps it was the blood loss, or the pain, or perhaps it was the fact she’d just downed two medkits full of painkillers, but things started to seem a little…distant. The world took on different shades as she watched Abimael continue to “drink” the last remnants of her blood, which now danced between scarlet and orange and sometimes an odd shade of blue. She was glad that things didn’t hurt anymore, but for some reason, she was unbelievably hungry. She tried to move her arms, but felt herself lacking the strength in one arm and lacking any feeling at all in the other. She should probably be a bit more worried about that… …Just like she should be worried that the sword guy was pointing a gun at her. She opened her mouth to say something, anything really. Just a ‘Please don’t shoot me’ or a ‘I’m not the one you wanna kill.’ All that came out was a slight whimper of pain. She was too doped up to speak and just trying to force her lungs to make words was agony. She didn’t know what organs were shot, but her lungs were hurting from the laboured breaths, more than anything. The gun was put away though, and suddenly she was hoisted onto the stranger’s shoulders. The sound of a pistol clattering against the floor would have been evident, as Kiku was disarmed by her own inability to do much of anything. She was spent, all she had left was a couple daggers now, and another grenade, but she doubted she’d be popular if that was her choice again. Once lucky, twice stupid and all that. On Kai’s shoulders, she didn’t move. Didn’t even say much, either. The coagulants had done their job and she wasn’t bleeding very much anymore, so at least she wasn’t a messy load, as much as she was just a mess. Thoughts drifted away from the Shadow Zone, and the fact she’d been shot. Instead she tried to pick at some happy memories, something worth remembering…She came up blank, so instead she focused on the kills and the sex and the other things that made her feel alive. She could do with feeling alive right now. --- [Center]Daniel Anders-South West[/Center] He’d made a mistake. All of this time, all of the mission objectives prior, all of the risks he’d taken to try and keep people safe, and this was when he got punished for it. He was a trained pilot, and thankfully he didn’t have any particular attachment to his Mech. Some people got so obsessed with the suits they occupied that they couldn’t decouple themselves from them. Thankfully, Daniel was not that sort of pilot. It took him all of three seconds to eject himself via the escape hatch. One big red button, followed by ripping the Rosario from the dashboard and Daniel was leaping from the mech and sprinting towards the cavalry. He was saddened by the loss of the Chainsword engine, and he felt the odd ‘squelch’ of something fleshy under the soles of his feet, but he didn’t have time to stop and see what it was. Instead, he reached towards his sidearm and his Grenades. Yanking the pin off one without breaking his side, he lobbed it behind him without stopping or even looking were it landed. If it slowed down a wolf or two, he’d be glad for the use. After that, he just ran. Ran like the devil was at his back and ran like his steps would carry him into salvation: because that’s what they were doing. The difference being that ‘Salvation’ was not being killed by a bunch of mutant dogs and living to get his ass chewed by the Asian doctor for fucking up at the last moment. Although if that Heathen Brucie gave him jip after all the fuck ups that Daniel had to endure before this, he would likely plant a foot upside the Australian’s head. No time for that bullshit, thank you very much.