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[h1][s]Help[/s]Worthless[/h1]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/jw3F1O9.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/rF32h3E.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/FWMorlL.png[/img]
[h2][color=B0C4DE]Brent[/color] | [color=ff57ff]Siena[/color] | [color=00a99d]Ernie[/color][/h2]
[sub]A Mistake by: [@banjoanjo][@PapiTan][@ERode][/sub]
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[hider=𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖   / /  ~𝟘𝟝𝟚𝟝]The cart continued to squeak and creak as its momentum built up, Brent's arms pumping up and down. It had been hard work at first, but once they reached a fair speed, the arbiter allowed himself to relax, maintaining rather than accelerating. They had been going forward for too long, and there had been no response to his own message. With both hands occupied, he couldn't check the phone either to confirm the location of his classmates, nor did he feel particularly inclined to. They should be fine. If it was just a matter of speed, Hazel, Callan and Sander were wonderful transporters, and Emma's shadow-creatures could deal with whatever they couldn't carry, not to mention the creative application of Grant's own power.

No need to confirm. No need to pursue. Pedalling the combined weight of the cart, himself, and Siena without being able to leverage his bodyweight was enough work, and he had enough to think about. So Brent continued, burying his thoughts and his scorn with the push and the pull, the rise and the fall, until a ladder revealed itself in the distance, marking an end to the tunnel. Releasing his grip on the bars, the cart shifted back to its stone form, warm but not fractured. Uneven wheels caused the two subnaturals to bounce about, and the slightly misaligned direction caused the cart to bump, and then scrape against the wall of the emergency escape route, but it decelerated, stopping a couple feet away from the ladder.

Back to the grind, huh?

[color=B0C4DE]"Let's go, 'ena."[/color]

It was hard to resist the urge to take names when they weren't needed. As they progressed, Siena had considered too many. A scanner to ensure that there was nobody following, a barrier user that could keep them safe, a name that might conceal them, a name that might speed things up--the options were countless, but the girl knew taking the names, though less taxing than utilizing the abilities, would only serve to wear her down. It would be too late to use them if something came barreling down the tunnels, but if she ran out of energy before they arrived at the end...Thoughts of arriving in the middle of a battle with nothing to defend herself with crept to mind, and Siena couldn't help but tighten her grip on the machete, joints turning white with the sudden pressure. With one arm out of commission and one ankle refusing to support her weight, the Arbiter was aware that without her abilities, nothing would prevent an untimely and grisly demise if they were confronted with hostiles.

Perhaps that was why she'd felt a minor sense of panic rush to greet her when the cart suddenly seemed to shift. The movements suddenly became jagged and harsh, enough to jerk Siena out of her momentary stupor, teeth clenching and body twisting to try and get a visual on what had caused it--well, that was the [i]plan[/i], at least. 

What actually happened was her turn being interrupted by the cart hitting the wall, the impact not severe, but enough to knock Siena's already precarious position just far enough. The machete clattered against the stone surface of the cart as her good arm moved out to try and stabilize her, failed, and then the bad arm went out, a grinding, bitter pain shooting through the nerves. Thousands and thousands of individual spires that coalesced into a single, bone-white lance through her vision. Another three when she regained her balance at the cost of twisting just a little further. Vision white. Mind just as blank. 

[i]Holymotherfuckingshitwhydidshe--[/i]

"[color=ff57ff][b]Fuck![/b][/color]" 

The curse tore through, loud enough that Siena could hear it over the cacophany of demands to keep it back, to suck it up and deal with the pain because it should have been nothing. Righting herself immediately, Siena resisted the urge to try and soothe the injury by haphazardly applying pressure, instead turning her focus on reclaiming the machete from its place before the din in her head quieted itself enough to register the words and the situation at hand. 

"[color=ff57ff]R-right.[/color]" It took more effort than it should have to steady the words, and though she'd given an affirmative, the brunette couldn't help but feel they weren't suited for the task in their current conditions. Two limbs down each...not exactly comforting. "[color=ff57ff]...any bright ideas?[/color]"

He heard Siena's cry of pain, a question about to escape his mouth before Brent shut it, quickly. Of course she wasn't fine. Wasted breath and wasted time. Instead, the arbiter climbed out of the stone cart, doing his best not to land face-first and yet landing in a heap regardless, tumbling down unceremoniously. More bruises and soft pains to think about tomorrow. For now though, Brent was just happy that his face was still intact.

[color=B0C4DE]"Elevator,"[/color] the amethyst-eyed youth grunted, crawling the last few feet towards the ladder. It didn't go up nearly as high as he though, but at the same time, they didn't have as much space as he'd like. It'll do though. They were always going to have to make do, when Siena's energy reserves were too precious to waste and his own power was too limited to complain about. Bringing a hand on the side of the ladder, he opened the dam once more, silver circuitry bursting into the ladder. Suffused in white light, the ladder disassembled and reassembled, turning into what almost looked to be a conveyor belt, rungs attached to the belt while a steel frame kept it upright. Similar to the stone cart, it had gears and pedals that Brent grabbed, before he motioned towards Siena.

[color=B0C4DE]"Grab on,"[/color] the arbiter said flatly, giving the contraption an experimental turn, [color=B0C4DE]"Between air, water, and corndogs, where are you right now?"[/color]

[i]Grin and bear it.[/i]

Clambering out of the cart, Siena was careful not to agitate the injured ankle more than necessary. Her movements were uneven despite her best efforts to ignore the limp, but it was enough to reach the newly constructed ladder, a flicker of concern over the energy it must have taken to enhance two relatively large pieces of equipment. The cart, the goggles, and now the ladder--was it wise? Again, the voice mocked her. She should have stopped it before it got that far--didn't she [i]know[/i] that it was a suicide mission? It took more effort than it should have to push the thoughts away, even as she set her phone in one pocket, machete shifted to the injured arm if only to leave the good one open to grip the rungs of the ladder.

"[color=ff57ff]Ask'n a girl her weight, geeze.[/color]" [i]Where are you right now?[/i] Somewhere, out in the countless worlds she might have escaped to, the answer was [i]home[/i]. Home with no mark and no need to regret decisions she didn't make. [i]'[color=ff57ff]Do you really have time to play that game?'[/color]'[/i] No. So instead, she gave a half-hearted attempt at a weary smile, reflex instead of any real show of emotion as she adjusted her position faintly, using the ladder to support more of her weight, mind buzzing with acknowledgement of the fact that one arm might not be enough to support her. "[color=ff57ff]Let's hope air.[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"Was hoping for water,"[/color] Brent replied tersely, talking to get his mind off other thoughts while he transitioned between actions. The only strain was in his muscles, but that burning sensation was welcome as it scorched away more complex ideas. Up and down. Push and pull. Rise and fall. His magical reserves weren't shot yet. They never were, really. Unlike the others, he had yet to see the bottom of the well. Chains and gears creaked as he cranked, the vertical conveyor belt sending Siena up and up, stopping only when the lid was half a foot away from her head.

[color=B0C4DE]"Need a second for stability?"[/color]

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Could use a little more than that.[/color]'[/i] Siena didn't voice the thought, gave the best attempt at a strained smile that she could, and readjusted her grip on the rungs. With her feet in place, it was easier to keep balance, but the brunette was aware that there wasn't a pleasant way through their situation. 

"[color=ff57ff]I'm fine.[/color]" No, she wasn't, but that wasn't something she was going to admit. At the least, their exit was in sight. Sucking in a breath to brace herself, Siena forced her arm to raise, grimaced when the resistance was pain, and managed, with significant effort, to reach the trapdoor. Pain shot down through her, made her grip tighten until her knuckles turned white as her vision started to pulse, but pain could be worse.

[i]beatbreakruinfleshbloodbone[/i]

Blindly pushing forward against the trapdoor, the brunette hissed, swallowed her voice, and kept [i]pushing[/i] until she felt a chill, a few droplets, and her mind acknowledged that the air that rushed over her was from [i]outside[/i]. Hesitation gripped her then--outside. Where a hostile might be waiting, where she might manage to peek out with only enough time to realize that she'd doomed herself. Should have scanned, should have tried to find a radar, should have... "[color=ff57ff]Door's not blocked.[/color]" 

It certainly wasn't. A few seconds after Siena's initial push the door was hastily swung open, revealing a glowing Ernie with a scalpel in his tight fist. Relief seemed to ease the expression on his tense face but he still looked conflicted.

[color 00a99d]"You're late,"[/color] he said and offered his free hand towards Siena.

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Holy shit![/color]'[/i] Siena gasped as the door as opened to the storm above her, flinching at the sudden motion, good arm gripping tighter when she almost lost her grip on the ladder, bad arm jerking to grip the rung as her bad foot slid slightly. White overtook her vision again, blurring the figure, only giving her a glimpse of the scalpel before her vision snapped in and out of focus for a moment. It took a moment for the Arbiter to fully register the owner of the voice. 

"[color=ff57ff]Sorry.[/color]" Readjusting her position on the rungs, Siena blinked away the spots in her eyes, gave a weak shake of the head to the offered hand, a strained fascimile of a smile--it lacked any semblance of joy. Only a reflex when there was nothing else to put forth. "[color=ff57ff]I'm fine, but Brent will need some help up.[/color]" 

Understatement of the century, the thought came, while the brunette struggled to make her way up and out of the path. 

"[color=ff57ff]We messed up.[/color]"

Something resembling pity crossed his face as he took in the words, the sight of her mangled shoulder. But he didn't respond to the statement. He merely nodded and moved out of her way, flinching sharply as a cuff alarm started screeching behind him. Unbridled fury flared in his eyes before he took a deep breath.

[color 00a99d]"I can help with Brent,"[/color] Ernie demonstrated with his rope as the end of it slithered down the hatch, [color 00a99d]"How'd you get hurt?"[/color]

A screech sounded, and Siena grimaced at the ringing in her ears. If her attention had been more focused, she might have caught the flash of emotion, but between the haze of pain and the chaos, it was too hard to catch what she normally would have. Adjusting her position, the brunette watched the rope move--would she be able to help there?

"[color=ff57ff]Hostiles were already at the estate.[/color]" A pulse of discomfort fired through her arm and ankle, drawing a faint grimace followed by a wry expression. "[color=ff57ff]Something took the roof out from under us before the jump finished.[/color]" She should have stopped it before it got that far. She kept the thought quiet, and instead glanced at the rope. "[color=ff57ff]...can I help with that?[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"it's fine, 'ena,"[/color] Brent called from below, oddly happy to see that Ernie hadn't met some grisly demise as well. Or, well, maybe he was just happy that it wasn't Zoe waiting for the two of them there. [color=B0C4DE]"My arms are still working. What's the situation up top?"[/color]

It was clearly nothing good, judging by all the sounds that were now flowing into the tunnel, from heavy impacts to roars to the screeching of more alarms, but for the time being, Brent grasped onto the rope, pulling himself up one hand at a time. Whether or not they were better off up on the surface or inside the tunnel was a subject to be discussed later.

Ernie hesitated as Siena recounted their failure, cut off her offer with a sharp [color 00a99d]"It's fine."[/color] Stupid of him. They were hurt, he wasn't supposed to be pissed off at them. But there was an unmistakable harshness in his frown now, an irritation he couldn't control because [i]what the actual fuck was going through their heads?[/i]

[color 00a99d]"They're being held off. We're okay for now. What do you mean your arms still work?"[/color] The rope coiled itself around Brent's wrist, levitating him up to the lighthouse in a second and sitting him against the wall.

[color=B0C4DE]"Arms still work,"[/color] Brent repeated, [color=B0C4DE]"Legs don't."[/color]

Unmistakable, but understandable--that was the only way that Siena could label Ernie's reaction to her own words, but the response to the situation at hand... Siena released a breath. Hostile on this side too. With Brent out of commission, it was doubtful that he'd do anything reckless like charge in, but there were so few by the trap door, and the sounds of impending--[i]no...already ongoing? It was hard to focus on her hearing when the other senses demanded attention[/i]--combat already starting to tune themselves into a steady, white noise.

"[color=ff57ff]Everyone else is engaging?[/color]" That didn't sound like the wisest idea, nor did it sound like one that the more reasonable members of their team would have gone along with had there been a choice in the matter. "[color=ff57ff]...do we even know how many there are?[/color]"

A spine injury and dislocated shoulder on the two most versatile teammates. How much worse could things get?

[color 00a99d]"It's...hard to tell. Things look under control here, at least."[/color]

A slight cringe as more searing flames and white light flashed against the window. The enraged roars and ever-screeching alarm didn't exactly help get his clumsy reassurance across either.

[color 00a99d]"We need to get you two patched up first. Neither of you can move properly with those injuries."[/color]

Under control? Pushing himself sideways with a grunt, Brent peered out the lighthouse, overclocked goggles relaying to him the horrific details of the fight in stark daylight. Chris, setting an entire forest of monstrous plant creatures aflame, unable to decisively destroy them. Callan and Sander, tangoing with a shadow-creature that actually managed to hold its ground against their combined assault. A great wall that only grew taller as time passed, no doubt shielding the rest of their foes so they could continue to safely cast their magic. Hazel, critically injured and held in Lawrence's arms. It was like Wisford again. No weapons, no chances. Only words.

[color=B0C4DE]"Hazel first. She'll actually die soon,"[/color] Brent said, knowing full well that he wasn't doing this out of concern for the unhinged aberration's health, [color=B0C4DE]"Where's the healers? Might be best to have them take shelter in the tunnel. If that shadow creature's knocking around Callan and Sander, a lighthouse would be just as easy to topple."[/color]

"[color=ff57ff]Hazel will--[/color]" The rest of the sentence finished in Siena's head somewhere between incredulous and agitated. So...no, not really under control. Thoughts of Wisford came to mind, of Hazel's ability then to handle a combat situation. The difference was almost unreal, such a wide gap between a hopeful situation and reality that Siena had to take a moment to replay the information in her head. If Hazel was critically injured, then it was safe to assume that it wasn't a situation they wanted their [i]actual[/i] healers at. 

...well, she supposed it was a good thing she wasn't a healer then. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]In this condition? You'll probably just get in the way.[/color]'[/i] But Siena batted the doubts aside with the acknowledgement that she could provide options. If not a quick transport, if she was willing to burn a little more, then a way to stabilize her injured peer, even if it was only a temporary solution.

"[color=ff57ff]How far is she?[/color]" Siena questioned, readjusting her position, shoulder still out of place and pulsing with every slight motion. She should have reduced it earlier, but everything else had seemed more important. Get to safety. Get to the others. Keep doing things to ignore the fact that it was starting to ache with more severity the longer she ignored it. [i]Now didn't that seem familiar?[/i] "[color=ff57ff]If it's just a matter of transportation...[/color]" 

Transportation was out of the question. As Siena reached for a source the rope snapped to attention once again, floating freely of its own, or rather Ernie's, accord. A new trick. Harder to fiddle with than his previous ones. By his hip, his wrist jerked up, emulating the motion he wanted the rope to complete. Break down the movement, follow it with his gaze. Grab, then pull. One end yanked the girl's roaming wrist above her head while the other searched for her phone in her pocket, ultimately depositing it in Ernie's open hand.

[color 00a99d]"What are you doing?"[/color] his voice was cold.

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Wh-what the fuck?[/color]'[/i] Was about the only appropriate thought that came to mind when Siena felt her wrist jerked away from her phone, held above her head by prehensile magic rope. Even without the very real consequence of a peer's death, it was not a situation that Siena had been prepared to acknowledge the possibility of, much less react to. 

It wasn't until too late that she realized what else the restraint was doing. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]No, nononono![/color]'[/i] Panic seared the surface of her conscious thoughts, burning away logic and reasonable action in a flash fire. Her shoulder sent another lance of agony through Siena's senses as the girl tried, to no avail, to move the arm enough to stop the inevitable. The phone was neatly placed in Ernie's waiting hand, and icy dread twisted her stomach into a knot before pinning it in place with a well placed spear. Defenseless again. Fear set off too many alarms, opened too many floodgates, and though the reaction wasn't as severe as in D.C., the Arbiter couldn't deny that it was [i]there[/i]. 

[i]'[color=ff57ff]Give it back![/color]'[/i]

"[color=ff57ff]I--we can't just...[/color]" A shuddering breath that she couldn't restrain as she pushed her panic down as best she could. No sources. No guides. No [i]safety[/i]. "[color=ff57ff]I can get her back here if...[/color]" Between the surges of fear, a cold thought came to mind. Could she? Hadn't she said the same thing about Gregory? Even if she hadn't believed it then, she'd been confident that she could get herself and Brent to safety without injury. The words stopped there, further ones failing to come to replace them. 

Ernie didn't move. Didn't react. [color 00a99d]"Get her back...like you did with Gregory. Is that it?"[/color]

Even through every panic-painted thought, Siena couldn't prevent the barest showing of a flinch. Eyes down for an instant, a tensing of the body to seem just a fraction smaller that lasted for less than an instant. [i]You didn't even go to help him.[/i] But there had still been that faint, optimistic desire to, hadn't there? "[color=ff57ff]I...[/color]" Couldn't think. Couldn't come up with the right end to that sentence, not with Brent there, not with her source away, not with everything happening around them. "[color=ff57ff]It's n--I didn't...[/color]" 

Didn't have a damn way to argue against that, but she had to do [i]something[/i]. 

"[color=ff57ff]It's not a blind run this time. If we know where she is, I can reach her.[/color]"

And with that, the buzzcut Aberration stopped bothering.

They were going to die here. He'd come to terms with that as soon as he witnessed Sander getting thrown around like a ragdoll. Zoe thought she could do something. Callan and Hazel were putting up a good fight. But none of them [i]knew[/i] like he did. This class was full of suicidal idiots. It just wasn't fair. He didn't give a shit about most of them but when he did he was forced to treat them like this. Restraining them and chastising them like a stupid child. Letting cruelty bleed freely into his words.

Because the truth of it was that even with their impending deaths roaring and steaming and flaming mere yards from this temporary shelter, they did have some agency in this situation. There were smart and stupid ways to die. He just wanted to give his friends the dignity of the former, even if it meant being the poisonous shithead he always was.

[color 00a99d]"No,"[/color] he scoffed at her desperation, [color 00a99d]"No, actually, you can't reach her. I've taken your phone. And if you try reaching for any spares, I'm going to take those too."[/color]

Brent glanced back and forth, recognizing both of the emotions that flared between his two...friends. Siena's panic, bubbling up behind the mask, the same sort of nervous energy that he had seen when he first caught her walking in circles around Zhang's estate. Ernie's exasperation and bluntness, a reflection of his own, when things had to be done and feelings couldn't be tread around delicately. The abberation's rope manipulation was a distant fourth in his list of priorities at the moment. He should have been more precise. Should have mentioned a more important fact that would stifle Siena's reason for jumping into the thick of it again whilst missing half her limbs.

[color=B0C4DE]"Lawrence is there already,"[/color] Brent continued to relay, [color=B0C4DE]"Not carrying her back though, probably due to the intensity of the injury. Transportation isn't going to work out, Siena. It's going to have to be..."[/color]

He narrowed his eyes beneath the pulsating visor. Its time was going to be up soon, but for now, he could still see everything in gruesome, bloody detail. Sander impaled while Kusari rushed towards the quickly-sealing hole in the wall. This was a hell of a mess.

[color=B0C4DE]"Lily for ranged healing. Christmas to ensure she doesn't die from the wounds that she incurs...where the hell is literally everyone else?"[/color]

A frown twisted his expressions, before Brent reminded himself again. Reel it back in. Narrow it further. Use all the pieces. Stop acting. Just think.

[color=B0C4DE]"Siena, save your strength for something no one else can do."[/color]

The words were different from what she was used to hearing from Ernie. No, not the words, the tone? The...something. Far beyond the reaches of the gradual ebbing of the initial rush of panic and adrenaline, a calm, collected voice recited observations back. Not quite unexpected, right? There'd been something in the back of her head, constantly, warning her about most of her classmates after seeing firsthand what they were willing to do to each other for a training exercise. It was only a blithe eagerness that had let Siena turn a blind eye for as long as she had. Why she had managed to function as though largely unphased despite what she'd written on the evaluation documents.

It was hard to connect the boy that had taught her getaway driving and the one before her.

Harder still to listen to the blunt acceptance on Brent's end. Reason told her that they were probably right, and even if they weren't, with her arm held in place, she didn't have much choice but to accept that they were. Reason told her that no matter how quickly she managed to move Hazel out of danger, that didn't make [i]healing[/i] her any easier to do without Lily or Christmas. Reason told her that the only reason she wanted to rush in at all was because it was something else to focus on. Something to pull her attention away from the dark feeling in the pit of her stomach, the cold one that gripped at her with such ferocity that it was only with growing difficulty that Siena was able to continue to push it aside into its proper place. 

"[color=ff57ff]You mean sit here until there's no choice but to do something.[/color]" The words came out blunt, harder than she meant for them to, but it was [i]so hard[/i] to keep herself grounded. Too hard to keep herself level when security was out of her hands and when her heart was pounding heavy against her ribs. A steady pace. Do good. Do more. Do [i]more[/i]. It took almost all her self control to push a sudden swell of heat back down. [i]Shit[/i]. It was the same feeling from Wisford...no, not entirely. It was climbing, not falling, reaching up, breaking through, and louder than it had been then. Louder because the only names she'd taken hadn't done enough to drive a division between what Siena wanted to become and what she was then.

[i]Who deserves to pay?[/i]

The fact that it had managed to punch through the fear was more terrifying than the lack of security. 

"[color=ff57ff]...fine. At least let me reduce my shoulder.[/color]"

Despite the clear suspicion he held for her words, Ernie flinched, distracted from Brent's plan for the moment. [color 00a99d]"You're gonna put your own shoulder into place?"[/color]

"[color=ff57ff]That or break the entire arm. It's not like I do this frequently.[/color]" A pause as Siena realized that wasn't the best way to make an argument. "[color=ff57ff]I know how to reduce it, at least.[/color]"

Frequently? More confusion from the boy before he regained his composure. [color 00a99d]"I know too. Maybe I should..."[/color]

[i]Don't touch.[/i] 

"[color=ff57ff]...as long as it doesn't make it worse.[/color]"

[color 00a99d]"Heh. No pressure or anything, right?"[/color]

Ernie moved forward to grip the wrist of her bad arm, dropping the phone a safe distance away on the ground. Truth was, he'd only done this...maybe twice? He hadn't taken a formal class on it, that's for sure. After recalling the rotations that needed to be done, he took a deep breath and just went for it.

[i]Motherfuckingshitfuckohgoditwasgoingtobreakoffif--[/i]

Siena should have expected it. Well, no, she [i]had[/i] expected it, but that didn't stop the feeling of her arm being pushed back into place any more pleasant. Colors in her vision, good arm tensing in response to the pain, fingers curling into a tight fist until the knuckles turned white. Had the arm not been held in place, the brunette was almost certain that it would have lashed out in an attempt at stopping the entire process. Her breath came short for a moment, tearing away the ability to tell Ernie to [i]stop[/i], that it wasn't going to work, but all at once things seemed to pop into place. Literally. 

The sound was loud, obvious, and anything but pleasant, but immediately the pain seemed to relieve itself, no longer sending new waves like electric currents through mineral water, only letting the ripples of torment ride out their journey. As her vision cleared, the brunette released her breath, felt another spike of heat try to drive through her, and barely managed to hold it back.

"[color=ff57ff]Doesn't seem to be broken.[/color]" The words were strained, and Siena couldn't identify if it was from the receding pain or the rising need for release. She didn't unclench either fist. "[color=ff57ff]Thanks.[/color]"

An easy smile graced his face. [color 00a99d]"It's no problem."[/color]

At least they could all die with their arms intact now. A glance out the window sent shockwaves through Ernie as brutal claws skewered through Sander. Fuck, they were gonna get taken out one by one. And yet, he remained standing. Hard to frighten what was already petrified. Grief had long made its way into acceptance. The smile turned mournful and Ernie regarded Siena once more.

[color 00a99d]"Can I let you go now? You won't do anything stupid?"[/color] he asked, the phone in his hand making its way to his back pocket.

[color=B0C4DE]"She'll probably punch you in the face,"[/color] Brent remarked drily, eyes focused outside, where the battle continued to rage. The shadow-creature didn't appear to be regenerating from the heavy wounds it received from Callan, but that didn't matter when three of Unit B's powerhouses had gotten themselves shredded dealing with just that one bastard. From some miracle, Lawrence hadn't gotten himself caught in the crossfire yet, but the steadily increasing wall still worried him. What exactly was it for? Were they going to raise it up and then flatten it? Were they stalling for time while one of their more fragile mages worked on a nuke? Were they really so cautious of this group of semi-powerful fuck ups that they played defensively even while their shadow-boy held down two of the more famous members of Unit B? He still recalled the flaming whips and the scorching beams, killing soldiers by the dozens. Why did this feel so much....less?

No, if the Amigos were holding back, this was a boon. Reel it back. Focus. Get to work. Angelic was already dead. Gregory was most likely dead. But Hazel...

[color=B0C4DE]"Hazel still needs healing,"[/color] Brent repeated, emphasized, [color=B0C4DE]"Where are Lily and Christmas, Ernie?"[/color]

A hollow gaze. It always came down to this, didn't it? How selfish or smart his actions were.

[color 00a99d]"The moment we reveal that we have a healer is the moment all their priorities change,"[/color] Ernie spoke bluntly, [color 00a99d]"The lighthouse comes crashing down and one or both of them get kidnapped while the rest of us get crushed to pieces."[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]"Lily's got a ranged heal, and Hazel's wound is hidden by Lawrence's first aid,"[/color] Brent replied, [color=B0C4DE]"If she hides that black string underground, and Lawrence covers the rest with his body, we can mask that."[/color]

A flash of inspiration, quickly squashed to itty-bitty pieces by the fact that their communicator, Angelic, wasn't there. Pissed him off, when every piece couldn't fit the puzzle. When all the versatility in the world didn't allow him to work around something as simple as this.

[color=B0C4DE]"Callan's a bloody mess too, and Sander..."[/color] Why the fuck wasn't Sander invincible? [color=B0C4DE]"You know them, Ernie. Are the Amigos going to not kill us all if we don't reveal our healers?"[/color]

They killed anyone who got in their way. As long as he--shit--[i]they[/i] were out of sight, there was still that chance to keep the shadow demon from doing a full sweep of the class. Why couldn't Brent see that?

Ernie had to admit that the underground string was a good idea, though it didn't completely sway his stance. A clench of the jaw as he scanned the combat phone. Emma would be here soon.

[color 00a99d]"We're not going to use Christmas,"[/color] the Aberration remained steadfast, [color 00a99d]"Wait for Emma to show up with her tulpas."[/color]

Poor Determination. A grim smile creased Brent's features.

[color=B0C4DE]"I can squeeze out an x-ray effect on these,"[/color] the arbiter tapped his visor, [color=B0C4DE]"Slap 'em on Lily, and she can do her work from the tunnels. Gonna need your pain negation though, 'ena."[/color]

[color 00a99d]"Pain negate won't fix blood loss."[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]"It'll keep Lily from passing out during the transfer."[/color]

A reluctant nod. Personally, Ernie wouldn't have cared about momentary pain on Lily's part. But she needed to stay awake so... [color 00a99d]"Fair."[/color]

His gaze returned to the phone as he barked into Emma's channel. [color 00a99d]"Hurry down faster. We need tulpas for healing."[/color][/hider]