[color=E0D6C0] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wFqApY1.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/fXzi00H.gif[/img] [h1][b][color=30A4D9]Bastion[/color][/b][/h1][/center] [center][color=30A4D9][b]Race:[/b][/color] Warforged [color=30A4D9][b]Class:[/b][/color] Guardian [color=30A4D9][b]Location:[/b][/color] Airship – Top Deck [color=30A4D9][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] Phia [@princess], Menzai [@samreaper], Captain Cindralis [color=30A4D9][b]Injuries:[/b][/color] Shoulder still leaking fluid [/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wFqApY1.png[/img][/center] Bastion stayed by Phia and Menzai as long as he could. He made sure they breathed easy, that the shadows of the Necromancer’s magic left no sign of pain behind. He waited until he knew they would wake to see each other’s faces. When that certainty settled in his core, he rose and brushed the hair from Phia’s face so that her vision would be clear once she woke. Then he moved…his steps carrying him away from the bar, through the scattered passengers and the battered deck. His sensors swept for signs of the wounded, searching for any small flicker of life that still needed guarding. He moved through the wreckage full of calm, even as the ship groaned under the strain of what it had endured. Eventually, Captain Cindralis’ voice cut through the air as the comms sparked to life. The announcement turned fear into chaos. Screams rose again, boots thudded across splintered planks, mothers clutched children, old sailors barked useless orders, and the elemental ring sputtered above like a dying star. Through it all, Bastion kept moving. A flash of scales caught his eye. [i]Familiar lavender scales[/i]. He stopped. Near the rail, a lone figure knelt. A dragonborn man, shoulders hunched so far forward it looked as though he might collapse in on himself. His claws rested limp on the deck, trembling. His eyes were wide, staring past what lay before him, seeing nothing at all. And in his arms, the young Dragonborn girl who had greeted him earlier. Kaelira was her name. He remembered…she had gifted him a small paper airship. She was so sweet, her father…not so much. She lied there, small and still, her blood staining the wood of the ground beneath her. The girl had been slain. Something like sadness whirred in Bastion’s core, somewhere deep. He felt the air shift, the pitch of the ship’s engine rattling like a broken drum. The deck lurched beneath his feet. Somewhere, someone screamed again. But Kaelira’s father did not move. The man did not brace…he didn’t even blink. The world around him could have burned to ash and he would have stayed exactly where he was, lost inside the silence that comes when everything worth loving is torn away. Bastion’s optics flickered. His mind processed countless outcomes in a blink. None of them ended well for the man clutching his daughter’s body. So Bastion did what he was made to do. He ran to him, boots pounding the deck as the ship tilted, wind howling through the torn sails. Bastion reached the man, dropped to his knees, and without a word, folded his massive body over him and the child’s lifeless form. The ship bucked hard. Bastion slammed one fist into the deck, driving metal through timber until it caught deep in the frame beneath. His other hand clutched the father’s back, locking him in place as the wind roared past. He pressed his plating down, a wall of ivory and sheer resolve surrounding his wards. No blast of debris would touch them. Nothing would happen to them…Both the father, and the corpse of his fallen daughter would be protected. Around him, passengers screamed and braced. The sky outside twisted with rushing clouds as the Stormrider began its rocky descent. Yet Bastion stayed rooted. He would not be moved. He did not fear the drop, nor the impact, nor the ruin waiting below. His mind carried only one thing. If this man would not protect himself, then Bastion would do it for him. His voice was a whisper, half swallowed by the thunder of the failing engine. [color=30A4D9]“Hold on,”[/color] he murmured to the dragonborn, not even sure if the man could hear him. [color=30A4D9]“You will make it through this. I swear to you.”[/color] And when the ship met the earth, he did not let go. The Stormrider struck earth like a wounded leviathan, its bones shrieking through timber and iron. The world above became a roar of splintering beams and tearing sails, a wild churn of wind and grit. Bastion’s fist held fast, buried deep in the cracked planks, his other arm braced across the dragonborn’s back like a living bulwark. The impact jarred him through every plate and joint, rattling his core until sparks danced behind his optics. But the father did not move. He did not brace. He stayed folded around Kaelira’s lifeless shape, sheltered beneath Bastion. When the final groan of the ship settled into a silence broken only by distant shouts and the hiss of steam, Bastion released his hold on the timber and slowly lifted himself, plating creaking with the strain. He looked down. The dragonborn’s shoulders trembled. For a heartbeat Bastion thought he might collapse completely. Instead, the man turned his head...not up at Bastion, but toward the body of his child. His claws dragged through the girl’s lavender scales, small fingers gone cold beneath them. And then the father’s eyes rose, red-rimmed and full of ruin. They met Bastion’s with a fury that came from somewhere deeper than rage...the hollow fury of a man who had been forced to live when he wanted to follow his child into the dark. His voice came out raw, a whisper torn ragged by grief. [color=DB7B38]“How dare you…”[/color] He sucked in a shuddering breath, his fangs bared just slightly as if that could hold back the flood. [color=DB7B38]“I was to be reunited with my Kaelira…Do you understand what you have done!? [/color] There was a pause. Bastion’s head tilted in confusion. Could it be true that the man hadn’t wished to be saved? If so, why would one pursue such a fate? [color=DB7B38]“All your kind is good for is killing. But you bloody fool…why…why didn’t you just let me die?”[/color] Bastion only stood there for a moment, still blocking the wind with his broad frame, watching the man as he clutched the tiny body closer. For a moment Bastion almost spoke...to explain, to apologize, to promise something he couldn’t give. But instead, he only lowered his head. [color=30A4D9]“I only meant to help.”[/color] He didn’t reach out. Didn’t offer comfort the man would not accept. He simply stayed...a silent guard as the dragonborn father bowed his head, shoulders hunched protectively over the little girl Bastion could not save.[/color]