[b][i]Flame Brooks[/i][/b]

Flame was disoriented, phantom pain coursing through him for a second. [i]Was this what it was like to die?[/i]

He looked around; he was still in the meeting room in another world, if this indeed was another world. Looking at Alistair and the Priest, he would say, trying to calm himself so as not to overly offend the rich jerk, "This meeting room has multiple doors. Either we select another one or we surrender ourselves to those Knights for 'advanced interrogation'. Also, we should stick with each other from now on; safety in numbers and all that."

A flare of disgust at even saying that. Flame disliked or even hated other people, but by being chill, the priest, 'Father Whiskey', had earned his trust. So his next words were to the man of the cloth. "Father, you or the rich kid select a door and we'll find our way out. We need to stick together and make sure [i]none[/i] of us gets killed; this is serious."

Then a thought struck him, cold as ice. [i]If Ashton was here... Did he die too?[/i]

Anger bubbled up inside him as he said, "We're wasting time. Let's go. We can settle who should be group leader [i]later[/i]."

It was then that Flame realized that trying to appease Alistair was the wrong move. So was openly challenging him. That meant that he had to demand respect, prove himself worthy of it, and not hurt Alistair's ego in the process. So he stared at the rich kid, before saying, "We need everyone to be on the same page here. So are we going to stand together, or are we all getting killed?"

[b][i]Ashton Andrews[/i][/b]

If Flame was disoriented, Ashton was hyperventilating on the verge of tears. [i]I died. They killed me.[/i]

But there was a stubborn core inside him that insisted he recover. That insisted that he swim upward through the mire of pain. [i]Do not despair. Others count on you.[/i]

He assessed the other members of the group. The Japanese boy seemed the sanest and most level-headed, but he had been first to ignore his advice regarding the guards. Next after him was the Asian-American who had confessed to being an attempted suicide. And of course, the Scandinavian, who, with all due respect, had been the least reasonable of the group when confronted with danger. Ashton had to steer the group into a steady course, and do it faster than the man in the respirator and his soldiers can arrive.

To the group, he said, "[i]Do not run.[/i] If we run, we'll be pursued by the authorities with all they have. We walk, try and lose ourselves among the crowds, and find a safe place. We also find new clothes. Above all, do not panic; panic will get us killed faster." 

Ashton moved to gently grasp Aaron and Hilda's wrists, and said as soothingly as possible, "I know my facial expressions; Flame taught me a bit." A smile. "Let's walk to the back of the road, giving no signal that we wish to frighten or excite these good people, and only run when we are directly threatened. Take deep breaths if you have to. We'll all get out of this together; as the Demi-Humans from last time proved, we have allies..."

[i]Well, potential allies.[/i]