[center][h2]Ranch House[/h2][/center]

[color=lightgray]"Language. There's a kid present,"[/color] Spire said sweetly.

Specter's sass almost earned him the honor of becoming Spire's first kill in far too many weeks. The man claimed to be helping, but when it came down to the wire - or in this case, the spinal cord - people would say anything to save themselves. Still, his point about running [i]toward[/i] the ranch house with Hel did make him pause to think for just a split second, long enough for Pierrot's response to confirm.

Under the circumstances of what looked like an impending fight, he realized he'd better trust the guy...

He made sure to give the knife a little twist as he yanked it, bloodied, from Specter's back.

...Didn't mean he had to like him.

He pulled Hel to his side, sharply aware that without her abilities, she was even more vulnerable than the rest of them, and began backing up, toward the house, eyes on the numerous figures flooding toward them from the fog.


[hr]


Toby was as furious as he was confused. He would take the blunt-edged eldritch horror over this simpering traitor any day. He'd already asked 'what are you doing' and that was the wrong question, he realized. Clearly losing his Gift had caused some kind of transformation. This wasn't Fen anymore.

[color=lightblue]"Who are you?"[/color] he asked, his initial efforts to struggle free focused on trying to pick up his gun, which had fallen from his hand when his wrist hit the dirt, but which he could feel just at his fingertips.

He soon changed his tactic. Toby may have felt blind, but he had never had his Gift as a crutch in a fight. Maybe that gave him an advantage, now. If he couldn't handle himself, he would have been killed a long time ago.

From his vulnerable position, he couldn't free his hands; Nicodemus had gravity on his side. But the man had left his legs free. So he used them. Bringing his knees up to Nicodemus' left side, he threw them between himself and his attacker, planting one heel on the man's neck and the other on his shoulder, rolling and forcing him away with as much strength and momentum as he could - not insignificant, despite the awkward angle. Nicodemus would either have to let go and be thrown off, or would have to take Toby's wrists with him as he slammed hard on his side in the dust, reversing the advantage.

Unless Nicodemus just held fast and possessed a tremendous amount more core strength than he appeared to have. Then it would just hurt like hell.