[center]
[h3]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/s9KN50c.png[/img]
[img]http://i67.tinypic.com/2njvpci.png[/img] [img]http://i63.tinypic.com/2h84geb.jpg[/img]
[img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/2a82/f/2016/082/e/6/e6773423e455f22e8b9f678a909eed57-d9w4gf5.png[/img] [color=ff57ff]Siena Santana[/color] | [img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/2a82/f/2016/082/e/6/e6773423e455f22e8b9f678a909eed57-d9w4gf5.png[/img] [color=8493ca]Christmas Halvost[/color][/h3]

[img]http://i.imgur.com/J3BLklR.png?1[/img]

[img]http://i.imgur.com/CXKLnmg.png[/img]
[img]http://i65.tinypic.com/28hztyw.png[/img] [img]http://i66.tinypic.com/dyqee0.png[/img]
[h3][img]http://orig09.deviantart.net/bc5d/f/2016/013/5/3/53299d5a5f5a50190e9cfd9372f34a8c-d9nvwwp.png[/img] [color=cyan]Sander Lorraine[/color] |  [img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/2a82/f/2016/082/e/6/e6773423e455f22e8b9f678a909eed57-d9w4gf5.png[/img] [color=0095FF]Grant Rotem[/color][/h3]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img]
[hr]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥   / /   𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠   / /  𝟙𝟞𝟝𝟙[hr]
[sub]Collab with [@Baklava] [@RedDusk] [@Chasers115] [@PapiTan] [@January] [@Deathmyster][/sub] [/center]


Siena crashes into things the series was turning out to be a major success. Three in less than five minutes. Though she hadn't had much time to pick up the speed she expected, the impact was enough to tip Siena into another jump as she instinctively closed an arm around whomever she just crashed into, her mind's eye visualizing the last safe place that [i]wasn't[/i] significantly higher than her current level--or, well. Not as high as a building top, at least.

She and her passenger tumbled seemingly out of a puff of smoke, Siena not quite being able to keep her footing as the duo landed--complete with an awkward, unsteady stumble from the brunette--from about half a foot off the ground into the freezer she'd searched earlier. Safe. Oh god, they were [i]safe[/i], right? Before she could come up with an answer for that, the adrenaline seemed to decide not to work at full power--or maybe it was just that she had stopped long enough to let the disorientation and. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Oh no.  Oh, nonono. Hold it i--![/color]'[/i] Nope.

One dry heave, two...and then the self-made sampler from lunch escaped from Siena's mouth as she staggered back to her knees. Hopefully that didn't get her passenger [i]too[/i] much.

When the world snapped back into existence around him, Christmas fell backwards onto the floor with a shout and a loud thud, waiting for his vision to stop swaying before doing anything else. Somewhere nearby, he thought he heard someone throw up, but it was the hot splash of partially liquified food and digestive fluids on his arm that really drove the point home. 

Groaning, he instinctively tried swiping it away with a hand, only to realize too late that it was now on his arm and his other hand.

It took just a few seconds later for him to notice he was on the floor of a large freezer. And that whoever had lost their lunch was right beside him. A noise between a whimper and a shaky breath escaped his mouth, but he didn't say anything beyond that as the girl stumbled backwards after upheaving the contents of her stomach. He was somewhat glad the sewer's stench had nearly numbed his sense of smell to the acrid odor of vomit nearby. Wiping his dirty hand on his shirt (he likely wouldn't be able to save this one anyway), Christmas finally looked up at the girl who had teleported him out of the sewers, not envying the aftereffects of her power.

Despite the dribble of saliva and vomit still clinging to her lips, she had the air of someone who belonged in the upper echelon of prestige. It was something about the way she looked put together, with a fitted navy coat, grey top, and stylish shorts that seemed selected to complement each other and not just snatched from a drawer or duffel bag without much care. Long locks of her brown hair partially dislodged from her ponytail, a cut on her knee, and the grimy layer of sewage on her boots were testaments to whatever chaos had gone on beyond his notice, but they didn't mar what he considered the classic beauty of her face and slender figure. Striking, golden eyes locked his attention, however, and Christmas turned away before he could stare too long at them.

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Stings, sick, god just let this game be over...[/color]'[/i] Wishful thinking, really. Coughing the last bits of her less-than-stellar "introduction", the brunette cautiously glanced at her..."traveling companion." The boy with the Squishable Manatee. Despite the situation, she couldn't help but feel her lips try (key word: [i]try[/i]) to pull into a smile at the thought. His attire almost reminded her of Marcus--khaki shorts and a grimy t-shirt (courtesy, she assumed, of his stay in the sewage), and sneakers. The sight of the filth reminded Siena that she probably wouldn't be very willing to wear her particular outfit again anytime soon. If ever. 

"[color=ff57ff]S...sorry...about that.[/color]" Voice still shaky and crackling, Siena glanced at the phone that had likely gotten her to the boy in time to avoid whatever was making that [i]sound[/i], given the path she'd taken to avoid approaching the source, sighing as she forced herself shakily to her feet, eyes already starting to fade from their artificial golden hues back to a natural grey. Tapping the screen, Siena was quick to navigate back to her synchronized reading app, mind already whirring in distress. "[color=ff57ff]I th-think...woog...[/color]" Alright, talking was a bad idea for a bit. 

She focused instead on the new words on the page.

He barely caught the apology in his fluster over not staring, but when she articulated some strange sounds afterwards, Christmas couldn't help but look back at her from his position on the freezer's floor. He might have said something, but the now-grey eyes were steeled at the screen of her phone and the intensity of that concentration overrode any modicum of social etiquette he could have mustered in the situation.


[center]
[color=a8a2a2][h1]The Losers' Stench[/h1][/color]
[img]http://i67.tinypic.com/2qb8wgw.png[/img] [img]http://i65.tinypic.com/21o8tg4.png[/img]
[h3][img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/2a82/f/2016/082/e/6/e6773423e455f22e8b9f678a909eed57-d9w4gf5.png[/img] [color=a2d9ce]Callan Webb[/color] | [img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/2a82/f/2016/082/e/6/e6773423e455f22e8b9f678a909eed57-d9w4gf5.png[/img] [color=33ec06]Marcus Howell[/color] [/h3]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img]
[hr]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥   / /   𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠   / /  𝟙𝟞𝟝𝟙[hr]
[sub]Collab with [@Baklava] [@RedDusk] [@Chasers115][/sub][/center]


Sander moved toward where he believed was the exit, only to find a figure blocking his way. He narrowed his eyes when the beam of light hit him, but didn’t slow his stride. Something sickeningly sweet filled the air. His breath hitched, then the mouth-watering scents of food in the air were replaced by the heavy heat of rust and sewage. He spared Callan and Marcus a side glance, before pushing her aside and continuing on with his pursuit. 

Stepping out of the way as Sander shoved her shoulder, Callan lowered her phone and narrowed her eyes back up at the passing mage. Her amethyst gaze locked with his-- still red. She'd been agitated before, but [i]now[/i]..... What was that guy's proble-- wait. Why was he heading back towards the entrance? Looking back the other way, she held her flashlight up and took a few tentaive steps towards a corner up ahead. She didn't see Christmas with him, so maybe he wasn't down here? But where was--

"[color=a2d9ce]M-Marcus?[/color]"

The light from her phone illuminated the sorry looking form of her roommate. Completely drenched in soggy sewer filth, Marcus was also sporting what looked like a broken arm and busted nose. Naturally, he didn't seem to be in the best of moods as he sat there alone in the dark. Callan had half a mind to spin around and run, pretending she didn't see anything for the sake of perhaps helping him preserve whatever shreds of dignity he was trying to hang on to at this point. Instead, she quickly lowered her phone so he wouldn't have to add 'blindness' to his list of obvious troubles. 

"[color=a2d9ce]Are... are you okay?[/color]" she asked, immediately kicking herself-- could she have asked a worse question?

Marcus sat with his head against the wall, still silently contemplating. He squinted a bit as a light came around the corner, waiting for his eyes to adjust and make out the silhouette that was currently blinding him. He chuckled to himself a bit as the aquamarine hair came into view first, sighing loudly.

"[color 33ec06]Oh hey Cal.[/color]" he said, inwardly laughing a bit at her question. He was covered in filth, and a few of his body parts had been smashed, and here she was to ask if he was okay. "[color 33ec06]If we're being completely honest; not really, no.[/color] he closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall, letting out another sigh and giving her a tired side glance and she knelt next to him.

Wait a second. Did she have a bite mark on her neck?

"[color 33ec06]Is that a bite mark on your neck?[/color]" he asked in disbelief, his tired look quickly turning to one of concern. "[color 33ec06]The hell happened to [i]you[/i]?[/color]" he added, as if he wasn't currently the one in the sadder shape. There was only one person on their team who could possibly do something like that, and he was gonna be [i]pissed[/i] if his suspicions were true.

"[color=a2d9ce]D'aha--[/color]" A cross between some random word and a laugh as a lopsided grin wormed its way across her face. With a sheepish glance at some spot on the floor next to his shoe, she self-consciously slapped her free hand over the mark. 

"[color=a2d9ce][i]Vampires.[/i] What're ya gonna do?[/color]" she tried to play it off. Eager to not talk about [i]that[/i], especially with Marcus, she didn't give him a chance to respond. "[color=a2d9ce]What about you?[/color]"

"[color 33ec06]Oh. You know. The usual.[/color]" Marcus said, returning his head to the wall. "[color 33ec06]Couple broken bones and a nice dip in whatever sewage cocktail is running though this place. Figured I'd chill down here until Fred sent someone to haul me back. Seems like the safer option, at least.[/color]" he finished, a small smile crossing his face. "[color 33ec06]Any chance you're that someone?[/color]"

Explaining she was down here to keep an eye on Sander didn't seem like something she could get away with saying without context and she [i]really[/i] didn't want to revisit the neck biting scenario. 

"[color=a2d9ce]Sure,[/color]" she scoffed. Covered in septic sewer guck or no, if he needed help, she wasn't about to just leave him here. She was quiet for a moment, looking between his arm, nose, and, subconsciously, his scars. "[color=a2d9ce]What happened between you and Kusari up there?[/color]" she asked, blinking away the traces of an unacknowledged thought.

"[color=33ec06]Well, she broke my arm during a fun game of flag football. Then she kneed me right in the face, also during a fun game of flag football.[/color]" Marcus said, the irritation is his voice clearly evident. "[color=33ec06]After that, she cut of her arms and they grew back as weird tentacle arms. Which I'm just now realizing is how the raptor leg fits in.[/color]" he said, the thought trailing off slightly.

"[color=33ec06]But yeah. You pull me outta here and I will gladly hand my flags over. Easier than getting punched in the face for them.[/color]" He raised his good arm up to her for assistance for the second time today, still clenching his hand at her like a small child would.

[i][color=a2d9ce]Kusari[/color][/i] did that? Lost in thought, Callan stood and helped Marcus up in a robotic fashion. Unlike Sander, Kusari was an [i]arbiter[/i]. She didn't have a stigma to sate or, like Chris, a dragon brain to control. Not to her knowledge anyway. Why would she do that? No way Marcus was lying. Had it been on accident? She'd seemed a little verbally coarse the other day, but cool aside from that. Desperately, Callan tried to find a benefit of the doubt to give her as she mulled over what Marcus had just said. Amidst her blizzard of confusion, red hot anger was slowly bubbling to the surface. 

[color=662d91]"I don't know about hurting anyone, but we can't just treat this like a game."[/color] 

That was what she'd said and Callan had wondered what she meant. It wasn't like she'd said they [i]should[/i] hurt each other, but... she hadn't exactly said they shouldn't either. Accident, she decided with a dejected sigh. Until she learned otherwise, at least. Either way, there wasn't anything she could do about it right now. 

A few seconds late, Callan shook her head at Marcus's offer, "[color=a2d9ce]Can't have you tainting my team's victory with your free points.[/color]"

"[color 33ec06]God, I kind of figured we’d be able to do something like this without tearing each other apart like a bunch of feral animals.[/color]" Marcus said, wincing. It had come out far more bitterly than he'd meant it to, and he knew that he wasn't going to be earning himself any favors by having just said that.

But it was the truth. Perhaps he'd just hoped that'd they'd be able to compete civilly, to treat their own fellow subnaturals as anything other than enemies. Self doubt raced into his mind. Was he in the wrong for showing restraint? He had felt [i]powerful[/i] when he punched Kusari out of anger, and there was the matter of the second little vision he had gotten shortly afterwards. Was that his way of being conditioned into being a mindless animal...kind of like what Sander's power turned him into? These were comrades, teammates, and some of them were friends, and yet they were still willing to tear eachother apart at the drop of a hat.

"[color 33ec06]You at least gonna give me a five second head start?[/color]" he asked, not looking Callan in the eyes.

[color=a2d9ce]Could be worse,[/color] she wanted to say, but anyone in his current state should be allowed a bit of bitterness.

A head start? 

"[color=a2d9ce]Oh...,[/color]" she'd figured he hadn't brought it up to be polite. Cool. Now she got to tell him and the game wasn't even half over yet. "[color=a2d9ce]Don't worry about that... I'm out.[/color]" She sighed her way through the last two words-- still a little salty about her defeat. So long as he didn't ask [i]how[/i], it should be fine. 

Marcus was surprised; how was Callan out before the game was even halfway done? He prevented himself from showing any outward signs of surprise, trying to at least help her maintain some sense of dignity. A hilarious sentiment given his current predicament.

"[color 33ec06]Alright, well I don't know about you, but I down want to spend anymore time than necessary down in this stinking hole. I hope you know which way is out, because my sense of direction is completely screwed up at this point.[/color]"

"[color 33ec06]Do you think Fred'll be mad if I just nonchalantly slip these flags off?[/color]" he added, wiping the grime from around his phone's flashlight so he could see. Thank god Rosa hadn't skimped out on these things, or he would have been [i]waaaaaay[/i] angrier than he actually was right now. After pressing the button a few times to make sure it still did work, he huffed with eagerness, ready to climb out of here.

Callan nodded and began to lead to the way. 

She chuckled at Marcus's suggestion; couldn't really blame him for wanting to quit. "[color=a2d9ce]I'd be more concerned about your teammates,[/color]" she said, "[color=a2d9ce]Seems like they're trying pretty hard to win....[/color]" 

"[color 33ec06]Hell, with the way Siena was teleporting me around, and the fact that I just saw Sander down here, I was kind of hoping the game would be over by now.[/color]" he said, regaining his chipper demeanor. "[color 33ec06]Plus, I'm not in any state to do much but wipe slime on and totally gross out the other members of your team; but I suppose I can try that as a tactic.[/color]"

He chuckled a bit, trying to imagine Siena's face if a boy covered in sewage just straight-up tackled her. She seemed like the nice, clean, prim and proper type, so that kind of action would probably be the death of one of them, if not both. Then there was Kusari, who would probably just rip his arms off and beat him to a pulp with them if he tried that. Hell, even Callan would probably deck him for that; a hypothesis he was not willing to try at this very moment.

"[color=a2d9ce]She's [i]teleporting?[/i][/color]" Callan grinned. Siena hadn't mentioned anything about that. She sounded so confident about being able to find the healers, she hadn't thought to ask more questions.

[color=ff57ff]"I'll get to you in a flash."[/color] Oh yeah. She had said that, hadn't she? Callan shook her head incredulously. She really needed to pick Siena's brain about that power some time. With the most pressing matters out of the way, the unpleasant lunchroom conversation was left in its wake. She briefly mulled over whether or not to bring it up; ultimately concluding it was a horrible idea, she decided she'd rather jump into the sewage. 

"[color=a2d9ce]I'd say 'go for it', but I don't know if I'd be able to keep up if this turns into an all out prank war or something.[/color]"

"[color 33ec06]Oh yeah. At least, I'm pretty sure that what that was. I didn't exactly get to ask her too many questions before she disappeared.[/color]" Marcus said, rotating his broken arm a little bit. He mentally cursed at himself for not rewinding when Siena fell on him, or when she dropped him straight into the poo-river; but everything had happened so fast that he hadn't thought of it at the time. Panic rewinds were something that he was gonna have to work a little harder on.

"[color 33ec06]God. Can you imagine a prank war at this place? How many casualties do you think there'd be if someone put a whoopie cushion on the Director's chair?[/color]" he said, chuckling a bit.

Callan sniggered. "[color=a2d9ce]That's the last person I'd ever want to prank.[/color]" Nearing the ladder leading out of the sewers, she turned off the flashlight, briefly checking her facebook notifications in the process. Nadda. "[color=a2d9ce]Alright, let's get you the hell outta here,[/color]" she smiled half-heartedly with a tired sigh. Her cheek throbbed annoyingly every time she smiled-- something Marcus had a nasty habit of making her do. She motioned for him to go first. 

"[color 33ec06]Alright, just promise you'll catch me if I fall![/color]" Marcus said, wrapping his good arm around one of the rungs and hoisting himself onto the ladder. The trip upwards was very difficult, with him having to basically cement his feet on a rail before he could let go and grab another rung. There were a few close calls, and one or two less than dignified yelps as Marcus lost his grip for a moment and thought he was about to go tumbling back down the hole, but they eventually reached the surface.

Now he just had to find the rest of his team.

    
[center]
[h3]
[img]http://i67.tinypic.com/2njvpci.png[/img] [img]http://i63.tinypic.com/2h84geb.jpg[/img]
[img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/2a82/f/2016/082/e/6/e6773423e455f22e8b9f678a909eed57-d9w4gf5.png[/img] [color=ff57ff]Siena Santana[/color] | [img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/2a82/f/2016/082/e/6/e6773423e455f22e8b9f678a909eed57-d9w4gf5.png[/img] [color=8493ca]Christmas Halvost[/color][/h3]

[img]http://i.imgur.com/J3BLklR.png?1[/img]

[img]http://i65.tinypic.com/28hztyw.png[/img] [img]http://i66.tinypic.com/dyqee0.png[/img]
[h3][img]http://orig09.deviantart.net/bc5d/f/2016/013/5/3/53299d5a5f5a50190e9cfd9372f34a8c-d9nvwwp.png[/img] [color=cyan]Sander Lorraine[/color] |  [img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/2a82/f/2016/082/e/6/e6773423e455f22e8b9f678a909eed57-d9w4gf5.png[/img] [color=0095FF]Grant Rotem[/color][/h3]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img]
[hr]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥   / /   𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠   / /  𝟙𝟞𝟝𝟙[hr]
[sub]Collab with [@RedDusk] [@PapiTan] [@January] [@Deathmyster][/sub] [/center]

Right. What was he doing? Oh, that's right. Angel just said to go find Christmas in the sewers. Remembering his objective, Grant turned on his heel and was on his merry way to the manhole that Sander had broke for a bit ago. He guessed there wasn't any big rush because Sander was already in the sewers, so he just took his time walking, catching his breath from his encounter with Callan. Lord knows he's probably going to need it for what might come next.

Sander heaved himself up back on the field with a final leap, eyes immediately zeroing on a building in the distance. Without missing a beat, he moved, rapid steps took him toward the derelict building. Then a figure entered his field of vision. Dark hair, dark eyes, polka dots flags…Grant. His teammate. The blood high had relaxed its grip enough for Sander to form some scraps of coherent thoughts, but he was still having some difficulty. 

[i]Focus.[/i]

[color=f7976a][i]…work with your team.[/i][/color]

He made up his mind. If he couldn’t think, at least there would be someone who could. 

As he neared Grant, Sander lowered his shoulder and looped an arm around Grant’s knees, lifting the boy up and over his shoulder. With that done, he resumed his relentless sprint. 

Grant blinked, and the next second, he could see Sander exit out of the manhole that he was heading toward. What was he doing? His eyes seemed to be set on him. He got closer and closer and- [color=0095FF]"Wha...?!"[/color] Were the surprised words that left his mouth when he was suddenly lifted from his feet and placed over Sander's shoulder, whose sprint only continued.

Grant looked around as his vision hopped up and down from the movements of Sander's sprint. He turned his head toward him with a raised brow before he finally asked, [color=0095FF]"What's the plan here?"[/color]

To which Sander offered no response. He maintained his speed, and soon enough, the two boys were already in front of the crumbling building. Some distant part of his minds recognized this as a restaurant of sort, but it hardly mattered as Sander kicked the door in one quick motion, then placed Grant down. 

There was no answer from Sander, and that only told Grant that this was just a snap decision. Didn't matter. He was probably on course for where Christmas was. Confirmation quickly struck as Sander set him down, and he took a quick look around the crumbling restaurant. Not the most preferable of entrances. If they were here, big chance that they know that both him and Sander were here now.

[i]'[color=ff57ff]One more, one more, one more...![/color]'[/i] 

The sound of something breaking in alerted Siena to the fact that she was running out of time, and quickly. Much more quickly than she had initially calculated--probably Sander. Maybe more. [i]One. More.[/i]

She thought she'd have more time for the experiment, and though it was largely a success, she was terrified of the fact that someone was [i]already[/i] there. Her heart thundered. Dominic would last, his valley of shadows weak, tiring. A broken man, but useful for her purposes. Just like he'd been for Vale's, but the other...keeping her ambition in check would be hard, but it wasn't a bad thing...right? 

[i]Two.[/i]

The world plunged into dull gray. Soundlessness as the world took a snapshot of itself when the air circled her. [i]'[color=f7976a]It's like teleporting, I guess, but I have to physically move.[/color]'[/i] Not as easy to utilize as Nightcrawler, really. Less instant for her, even if it meant finer control over...well, just about everything. The girl released a breath, pocketing her phone and wading her way through the valley of shadows that Dominic had gained. He would last, if for no reason more than the fact that he was a broken man. Broken emotionally, broken physically. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Just wanted to go back to this. Where nothing hurts, and nothing matters.[/color]'[/i]

Steady pace against the rules of the world (it felt easier than she'd expected--maybe an effect of Dreamcatcher's presence already having broken them?), Siena moved towards the entry of the restaurant. Two faces. [i]'[color=ff57ff]Don't touch them. Just get close enough for them to hear.[/color]'[/i] She came to a stop just out of arm's reach of the duo, her mind yearning for something more than the dull world and yet oddly at peace in the gray silence. Couldn't touch what she didn't want with her in the quiet. 

[i]'[color=f7976a]I hope they resist.[/color]'[/i] Not her.

She let go, the ambient sounds of the world at large returning all at once in chaos as Dominic's eccentric teleportation released her from its valleys. Serena Clarke was likely her only hope of winning, but she'd won time and time again. Forced even Eli Evers into her will with her siren's voice. 

"[color=ff57ff]Take off your flags. Now.[/color]" 

And she could only pray that the magic of Serena Clarke's EO ability would do the trick.

Grant was glancing around the place after he was set down by Sander. Could be in a much better state then it was. This entire place in general could be in a much better state. But alas. Right, focus. Have to find Christmas and get their points. Maybe he should follow Sander? That seemed like a good idea-

He blinked for a second. There was someone right in front of them, they were right there. It looked like... what was her name? He's seen her before, he could've sworn. He fought with her. Siena? Was that her name? Yeah, yeah that was it. Grant stepped back, shocked from the sudden appearance, until something broke through his shock.

Her voice. Her voice that stated a simple order. There's no way that Grant was going to do that. Right? Well, if he had just looked down in time, his hand was already gripping his chest flag. [color=0095FF]"Shit..!"[/color] He'd let out as he heard the velcro tore. He had to stop himself. Concrete was too heavy, there's no way he can hold himself up with that. His eyes darted around quickly... Sander. He seemed to be struggling too, but first. Grant sent out a chain, making contact with Sander's already ripped shirt. With a pull from his chain, the shirt was off. Grant willed his wrists together as they reached up, doing his best to grip his hands into tight fists. Swiftly, the shirt wrapped around his fists and his wrists, willing the material to weld tightly. His hands weren't getting to any more of his flags now. But then he remembered. He looked back at Sander to see how he was fairing.

A whiff of strawberry jam made Sander turned his head, but it was too late. His body obeyed her voice, his left hand reached over to tear off the flag on his right wrist. He forced them to move, but they didn’t. Dark rage bubbled up in his chest as he turned his eyes forward, anger evidenced on every line of his features. 
 
“[color=cyan]GET OUT OF MY HEAD![/color]”-He snarled, barely noticing the tear as his shirt gave and was whisked away. Still, his hands still made their way steadily toward his remaining flag.  

Obviously not doing too well. That was his last flag. Grant couldn't face Siena alone, he needed his teammate, and no one else was coming right now. What to use to help him, to bind his hands. Was there anything he could use? Sander was nearly naked already, so-

It hit him. Grant kept his arms pointed down as he looked back to Sander. He apologized in his mind to him before he shot his chain out and made contact with Sander's only remaining article of clothing. His boxers. He lashed the chain sideways, and with a quick jerk movement, a tear. The boxers have come off. Grant kept his eyes up to his hands, bringing them up to them and he began to wrap them around his reaching hands, and then his wrists. Just to make sure, he forced his hands down before welding them tightly. That should do it for the both of them.

Ripping sounds filled the air, and only the first two from the velcro flags. As Grant created his makeshift bindings, Siena took the opportunity. She was close enough, and they were preoccupied. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Now![/color]'[/i] 

She threw herself forward just as Sander's hands were pulled down, blindly reaching for the final flag on the taller boy's head, her body already gearing up to let the air swallow her into that eerily silent world.

Grant spotted Siena enter his sight while he was focusing on welding the boxers on Sander's wrists and hands. Shit, he had to stop her. Instinctively, at that thought, as Siena reached up, the chains swung up, bringing Sander's wrists up with his boxers, on direct course in giving a nice underhand serve right to her chin.

Sander saw the hand going for his last flag. Instinctively, he titled his head back, vaguely recalling something about protecting them through the haze of the blood high. What he didn’t expect though, was his hand raising up without his consent, and—were those his boxers? Focus. He batted the irrelevant thought aside, noting the chain connected to the fabric. Chain. Grant. Teammate. Good enough. 

She wasn't going to make it. She could already feel the air starting to split--[i]was it supposed to be that fast? Or was it because Serena was gone?[/i]--and her trajectory wouldn't get her to the flag, even without resistance to the motion. Mentally swearing, Siena tried to push herself to a stop, but the most she could do was jerk against her inertia. She was going to eat the floor in ab--

Impact. Her chin blossomed in a bruising pain, finishing the job she started as her head moved back slightly to deal with the blow. It [i]hurt[/i] despite the cushioning. The world fell into silence even as she hit the floor with an unceremonious landing. 

No sound accompanied it. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Reckless. Stupid of you, Siena...[/color]'[/i] Scrambling to her feet against the odd weight, Siena shook her head to clear it. Needed to get out of there. At least she'd gotten a few of the flags. If her words could form, she would have sworn to herself. Two against one wasn't going to end in her favor with Serena gone, even if she abused Dominic's shadowy world as best she could. Her eyes trailed back to the two before her, eyes trailing u--

[i]'[color=ff57ff]That is a dick.[/color]'[/i]

The blunt realization numbed the faint throbbing of her chin, though Siena wasn't entirely certain that she appreciated it. The brunette furrowed her brow and gave a silent scoff as she turned on her heel to make her way back to her mark. Well, it was certainly no Gerwulf, that was to be sure. 

Making her way through the way she came, her mind worked through the knots that tried to form, she moved back for the freezer. Against Grant and someone whose strength might have been able to match Callan's, Dominic wouldn't be enough, but the freezer wouldn't buy nearly enough time for another name. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Damn, I need to be faster...![/color]'[/i]

[hr]

Something smashed to the ground nearby and he flinched at the sound, but from where Christmas was inside the freezer, he couldn't see past the space in front of him. Then he blinked and the girl was gone. A few more startled blinks and several seconds of an open mouth later, he peeked out, looking around the dilapidated, mildewed kitchen that she had teleported him to. It looked like the back end of a professional dining establishment that had seen [i]much[/i] better days, with rows of rusting stovetops and counters lining up in parallel with each other while large cookware and utensils littered the prep tables and floors.

A muted female voice towards what looked like the restaurant's front caught his ears, but he couldn't make out the words behind the double doors that separated the kitchen from the restaurant's dining area. A sudden shout from that same direction startled him with the tone's ferocity and Christmas jumped to his feet, nearly falling out of the freezer as he grabbed a nearby countertop to steady himself. Another panicked glance around the room revealed the back exit. He had wanted to find out where the girl had teleported to, but with the sudden note of fury in the air, he was contemplating leaving that mess behind, even if his rescuer had seemed unwell.

Chipped tile fragments scraped against his sneakers as he edged slowly away from the source of that angry scream.

Something trembled in the pit of Siena's heart. 

Bad.

If she was feeling something like [i]that[/i], then she wouldn't have time to blink in and out of the space. Not before it disappeared again. Cramming her hands into her pockets, Siena made another turn on her heel for the front door, willing Dominic to latch his desperate, broken mind on for a moment longer. Stopping them from reaching Christmas was a lost cause, but...perhaps.

Upper pocket, her muscles told her, ignoring the plastic and smooth edges of the numerous electronics that she'd tucked into the hand-stitched pouches lining her coat. Never trust only the digital age. She ran as quickly as her legs could carry her as she dug for the small, labeled paperback tucked between a tablet and what she could only assume was a Nook, fumbling as she ran. Wouldn't get far, would she?

The world flickered back to color for an instant, the hues starting to seep into the grey. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Not yet, not yet, not yet![/color]'[/i] Her hands touched one of the pink flags that barely peeked beyond the cover of the paperback, tearing it free from its place as the covers fell open to her desired page. 

The sound of a breeze broke through the grey filters. Running out of time. 

Her eyes darted down to mismatched font between the left and right pages, an irrational spike of irritation coming to mind. Her favorite "book" was going to be ruined. As she turned for the shelter of a building's shadow, the world came crashing back in full color and sound. If her eyes had been elsewhere, Siena was certain she would have been overwhelmed.

One last chance. That was all she had.

Something brushed his hands. Featherlight, like flesh. Then moments later, it was gone again. The sugary scent of jam faded to the background, leaving a barely-there trail in its wake. 
 
“[color=cyan]Grant, outside![/color]”-He shouted over his shoulder, gesturing to the general direction of the sweet scent –“[color=cyan]Now!![/color]”
 
Without another word, he turned, launching himself into the restaurant’s deserted kitchen, eyes immediately drawn to his target. Christmas. He wasn’t running, so it made things much easier. Sander surged forward in a burst of speed, first freeing his hand from the constraint with a flick of his wrists, then once again slinging the boy over his shoulder, though Christmas’ weight felt heavier now. The healer let out a quick huff of air between a gasp and a shout as the force and speed of the motion knocked a bit of the wind from him.
 
The flame flickered again, the thirst thrummed loudly in the back of his mind as the smell of fresh coffee engulfed his senses. He bit his lips. [i]Focus.[/i]
 
Using his own momentum, he lunged toward the back exit and began the sprint back to his team’s safe zone.  

Christmas wasn't sure what he had been expecting when that door opened, but red eyes and birthday suit wasn't it. In the time that the tall, pale figure dashed at him, he barely processed that this was a naked person. By the time he had been slung unceremoniously over that figure's shoulder, two and two finally came together and his frazzled mind put faces to names and names to faces between uneven breaths. 

Sander. Entirely naked save for his shoes. 

And now the ground was moving rapidly below him. From his new position hefted over his roommate's strangely warm shoulder, he had first-row seats to bare legs [i]and a bit more than he needed to see[/i] covering distance like lightning. Clearly more interested in preserving his roommate's dignity than the roommate in question, Christmas squeezed his eyes shut.

[color 8493ca][i]...Why is he naked?[/i][/color] the thought finally condensed from the scatter of potential reactions.

Gone. That girl was gone once more. As fast as she had appeared, she had vanished at the same speed. Grant looked down at his wrists, feeling no struggle amongst himself, and he decided to retract his chains from the binds that he had made for himself and the now naked Sander, who now yelled at him.

A simple order and a simple gesture, and Sander was off, into the kitchen. Grant's bind comprised of Sander's shirt simply slid off, and he simply guessed that it would do the same with his teammate's bind. Well. Might as well head toward where Sander pointed.

Simple. Grant walked outside and in the general direction of where he assumed to be Siena's current location. Now that his hands were free, he put them to good use, stuffed nice and cozy into his own pockets, his chains at the ready.

Siena had overestimated herself, the strain of taking so many names in such a short period already taxing enough without the struggle of their potent abilities wearing down on her endurance.

The fine lettering of the book's print blurred in front of her eyes and though she tried anyway, pulling the name with as much speed as she could manage, the exhaustion was too much. She had only peeled the letters halfway from the well-thumbed page when the world tilted sideways and the rough texture of concrete pressed against her cheek.

Distant, but approaching footsteps were the last sounds she heard before passing out.