[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/hjsFL36.png[/img]
[/center]
[hr][hr][center][color=a2d9ce]𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕎𝕚𝕤𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕕, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕  / /   𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟   / /  ~𝟙𝟟𝟝𝟝[/color][/center][hr][hr]


Something had happened. A few small flecks of blood from the gargoyle's shattered eye splashed across the bridge of her nose, but the majority of the warm red was streaming into her opponent's mouth. She smacked away the arm that tried to throw her off, tightly gripping the collar of the aberration's petticoat through her scarf with both hands and yanking her upward. In spite of all her rage, the sight of the inhuman thing in such excruciating pain gave Callan pause. A flicker of hope that it was over and they'd won crossed her mind, muddying her resolve to end the girl's life. 

It didn't make sense. She deserved it for killing Savannah. For killing Lawrence. For attacking her friends. She deserved to die! Callan slammed the gargoyle back down into the asphalt. She lifted her up and slammed her down again, but Callan was the one who suddenly started feeling dizzy. The heaviness in her chest was getting worse and she subdued another cough that was welling up inside, swallowing hard as she slammed the girl down a third time. 

Gun shots and squealing tires prefaced the sudden weightlessness that caught her by surprise. Her grip on the convulsing abe loosened for only a moment before her fingers quickly restored their gasp. She turned to look over her shoulder at what was going on, but she couldn't see anything.

[hr]

Savannah, Lawrence, Marcus, Emma, the APC-- it was all gone. Replaced by the sensation of falling, or rather, sinking. A curtain of iridescent bubbles rose around her. Beyond them, she could make out the comforting sight of those stars she'd seen that morning. Beautiful and strange. So much better than the death and disappointment that she'd no doubt return to when this was all over.

Curiously, her feet weren't finding purchase. The bubbles surrounding her didn't fade away as she felt they ought to, either. In fact, the deeper she sank, the more dense they seemed to become. As such, she could barely make out the bright lights in the distance that seemed to be falling in line with with her. With all the starlight and passing bubbles obscuring her vision, she couldn't make out who-- or what-- it was meant to be. Or even if it was one or many. A kaleidoscope of sense. An ordinary alien with a presence that was somehow foreign, yet routine. 

For a moment she thought she saw the her grandmother. Old and gray, but still vibrant with life-- as she'd always known her. Not the decaying lady attached to tubes and pumps in a cold colorless hospital room. But even Callan wasn't that delusional. It felt too bizarre. Then it was her parents. But after all that had happened, why would they be there? Dom flickered into sight, but that wasn't right. The next shape was of Marcus. Her thoughts froze and she could feel her heart skip a beat, but he had no reason to be there either. So away he went. She felt an infuriating shyness overcome the calm. Was she the one doing this?

She felt she ought to know, but she didn't. And as she racked her brain for an answer, uselessly groping around in the bubble swarmed darkness as it were, she found herself faced with a gargantuan wall, severing her from the answer she sought.

No... wait....

It [i]was[/i] the answer. In a sense. The big picture which always seemed to evade her. Feet now firmly planted, she stepped back. And kept going. It was so... big. She couldn't find the beginning or end. The further away she got, the more quickly the sheer size of it began to weigh on her conscious. It was overwhelming. But what was it? It rolled up to the tip of her tongue and seemed to taunt her curiosity there. Anxiety soon flooded her mind as she got the distinct feeling that she was running out of time. Figure it out. [i]Figure it out.[/i] Hurry, hurry, [i]hurry.[/i] 

But then it shattered-- breaking away like a paper mache unraveling itself from the glue. Inexplicably, she felt reassured. Even as the pieces floated through the ocean around her. She reached out and grasped a passing fragment, upon which she saw a single word. Before she could commit it to memory, a sudden shift in the current pushed her left and right and finally back into reality. 

[hr]

Callan watched Sander plunge into the gravity field and make short work of the a mage who seemed to be behind the gun shots she'd heard as well as a spreading layer of ice. Ribbons of blood followed the body of the man's demolished corpse. A harrowing sight, but one that also provided a distorted sort of comfort. Sander was here. He would help... and perhaps do a much better job of it than she'd done thus far. 

Before she could take in anymore details of the scene behind her, however, something like a sudden, buzzing rash on the side of her arm gripped her attention from thereon out. An unscratchable itch coupled with searing pain was eating away at her-- literally. Dumbfounded, tears welled up in her eyes as she watched skin give way to muscle-- and then bone. Crying out in surprise and mistaking her enemy to be the culprit, she moved to release the aberration beneath her. The signals in her brain didn't make it past the command to pull her arm away, however. She watched in horror as her hand, still gripping the purple scarf, was left behind before that too broke apart and faded from existence.