[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/CEl5jQF.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ifVwAOx.png[/img][/center][hr][center][color=silver]𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝔸𝕣𝕖𝕒   / /  ~𝟘𝟞𝟘𝟝[/color][/center][hr]
The storm had finally passed through the area and by then Zhang’s private military forces had long been dispatched, a special squadron kept under direct communication with Kardos and entirely separate from both the government forces assigned to USARILN East and the bolstering additions of hired PMCs. Three tandem-rotor helicopters received supplies, weapons, and a ten-man team before lifting off from their base in Nassau and flying along the coastline over the waters of the Bermuda. 

Their arrival was, as expected, too late after the storm and the escaped Amigos had long vanished from sight, skirting the abandoned Fort Caswell nearby and untraceable in the Intracoastal Waterway that easily expedited their path to a safe house. Too many rivers and exit points branched from the Waterway to check and the soldiers had no interest in hunting the Amigos at the moment regardless. They were more interested in securing the island and the estate, in particular the students still alive.

[hr][center][color=silver]𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   ℕ𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝔼𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟   / /  ~𝟘𝟞𝟘𝟝[/color][/center][hr]
In a half-destroyed house at the edge of the subnatural settlement, a flash of blue-streaked hair ended when the teenage boy collapsed into a chair, breaths coming in desperate and ragged. Of all people, he should have been able to escape first, but by now the other Amigos were either gone or dead, though the wall of water he had seen earlier was enough indication that Nathaniel at least was alive. 

And he had seen Isabelle die with his own eyes. Few people liked her—and they were justified. Half-crazy and doped up on drugs nearly all the time, Isabelle wasn’t anyone’s first choice for company. But she hadn’t minded when Chuck stayed in her hovel of a home, the tiny townhouse bare minimum lodgings provided by the Father when it became clear there was no point granting Isabelle luxuries. All she cared for was her drugs and the soothing high that accompanied them. At first it had been curiosity—one of their better subnaturals living like a dog—but it became clear enough when Isabelle spent nearly all her free time wreaking havoc in her home or dazed on the sofa, lost in chemical dreams.

But she had her lucid moments, rare though they were between the rage of her crashes and the insanity of her highs. 

[i][color f7976a]“Chuck, was it?”[/color][/i]

He remembered bruised legs hanging off the bed while her arms drew nonsense in the air, the scatter of heroin injections like small patches of freckles on her pasty skin. He hadn’t answered, sitting at the unbalanced dining table nearby because Isabelle had sliced away one of the table’s legs and Chuck had tried to duct tape it back together, only to have her kick at that same leg later. 
 
[color f7976a][i]“Why’re you always around here,[/i] moleque? [i]It smells here. ‘Cuz I don’t wash anything. And it’s gross. ‘Cuz I don’t clean anything.”[/i][/color]
 
He remembered telling her he didn’t know and knowing it wasn’t true.
 
[i][color f7976a]“Maybe I like the company, too,”[/color][/i] she had answered, guessing the reason.  [i][color f7976a]“Maybe I’ll dye your boring hair sometime.”[/color][/i]

He remembered thinking she was lucid when she told him to run.

The scent of blood still clung to him, lingering even though the splatters on his windbreaker had dried. He didn’t know if the person behind the drugs and the psychosis was worth it, but he missed her all the same.

They knew what their ends had to inevitably be, but Isabelle had been unpredictable to the last. The group looked down on her. Hated her, even, for various reasons, but none of them would have told him to run. In a sudden burst of fear and anxiety that he had been holding back since their first encounter with the soldiers, the teenager finally felt the shudders of dry sobs wracking his body. Alone, without even Isabelle, he was almost defenseless. That should have been the worst part. But against all logic his heaviest emotions sprang from the grief of her death.

He had asked her once why she used so many drugs.

[i][color f7976a]“God helps those who help themselves, Chuck. And amen.”[/color][/i]

[color f7976a]”…Amen, Isabelle,”[/color] he whispered, sitting up and pressing fingers to his eyes. He didn’t know what she would say to him like this—ever impossible to guess—but she wouldn’t be resting any more than absolutely necessary.

He needed to find transportation. Or at least a place to hide until he could figure out a way off the island. The collapsed caves they had chased the generator mage into came to mind and he decided to let his fatigue recover first before making the jumps there.

The sound of helicopters caught his attention first and he didn’t need to be Thi to put two and two together. He crouched low, watching the specks in the sky turn into his ticket off the island. His small pocket knife had been useless the entire time, but now he wondered if he could put it to good use. It was a reckless plan, but with the ferry gone he had no way of knowing when any future transportation would arrive, especially since the island’s inhabitants never seemed to travel.

His palm ached with the pressure of the knife’s handle.

[color f7976a]”…Amen.”[/color]

[hr][center][color=silver]𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖   / /  ~𝟘𝟞𝟘𝟝[/color][/center][hr]
Aldrich had finished checking the bodies of the dead subnaturals by the time Zhang’s reinforcements arrived proper, the helicopters touching down in the large clearing around the estate. A tall, brutish woman with short black hair swept back across her head stepped out in black body armor ahead of the other nine soldiers, pausing at the sight of Aldrich. She scowled, the piercing at the right corner of her lips accentuating her distaste. An angry scar marred the left side of her jaw, running ragged to her nose while an old, vicious burn across her left temple ruined the remaining skin on that half of her face.

[color f7976a]“Margot,”[/color] the older man greeted, though his face remained carefully neutral.

[color f7976a]”And here I thought I’d finally find you in pieces,”[/color] she growled back, voice coarse from years of chain smoking.

[color f7976a]”If you’re looking for the students, they’re in town. Safe, I assume. We lost one.”[/color]

[color f7976a]”Not my business. I’m just here to retrieve what’s left.”[/color] She gestured to the other nine soldiers to remain at the estate, heading into town alone. A hand scratched at the mark on her neck, scraping the rough fabric of the uniform’s collar against her skin. It was just an old habit now. That infernal itch had long ago vanished. 

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ifVwAOx.png[/img][/center][hr]
[hider=OOC Notes]
A week deadline. As usual, for any questions refer to the GMs. 

Zoe will be near Chuck’s location, having heard some noise.

Helicopters traveled in the direction of the mansion, landing around the clearing. Anyone returning to the estate will run into Margot. 


[/hider]