c3p-0h — Roleplayer Guild

An otherwise quiet night was shattered as an explosion like a thunderclap sounded through the air. The world was still for a heartbeat. And then came rumbling, crashing, breaking, screaming. 

Trick's head darted up, amber eyes wide and searching for the source. She'd been on an uneventful patrol, making her way from rooftop to rooftop as she'd scanned the streets. But now she darted forward, teleporting several blocks at a time until she came upon a collapsing building, screams echoing off the crumbling glass and rebar. It was an office building, deserted save for a few night guards. Trick's eyes found a window, a panicking man on the other side. blood poured from wounds on his head and leg. In a muffled pop Trick teleported inside, a gloved hand roughly finding the course fabric of his uniform. And in an instant they were both gone, reappearing on the roof she'd been on. The man, still terrified and now even more disoriented, collapsed to the ground, still screaming. But Trick didn't stay to calm him. She disappeared again, flitting throughout the crumbling building, listening for screams to guide her. 

She only found two others before the building was nothing but rubble. Blood dripped from a cut on her shoulder, and another across her eyebrow. Screams sounded from below the slabs of concrete and rebar, trapped where she could not see. Trick stood over it, teleporting around the perimeter, looking for any for of opening. She found none. With a growl of frustration, of pain, of failure, she looked up. One of the people she'd pulled, a young woman with a bleeding side and dust covering her face, stared back at her with wide, glassy eyes. Her chest was fluttering up and down, her breath coming out in rapid puffs. She was in shock.

Trick gave a sharp call, "Hey." The woman jumped, only to cringe in pain at the movement. "Call 911." Trick didn't wait to see if the woman understood. Instead she disappeared, teleporting her way to where she heard distinct shouting. It didn't sound frightened. It sounded angry. 

Trick was angry. Trick was downright pissed.

She found two men, both strangely dressed and also both doubtlessly the cause of the explosions. She didn't stop to think. In an instant the prone man on the ground was gone, only to reappear on some stray rubble, a piece of rebar piercing his gut. He was stunned for a moment before the pain set in. Then he screamed. But Trick didn't wait there to hear it.

With a muffled pop of ozone, she appeared behind the other man who was still kneeling, bent over. The edge of a sword was touching his throat. The entire exchange had taken less than a second.

Trick spoke in a voice that was low and rasping, but no doubt feminine. 

"Enough."
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unending foolery

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