Chasers115

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Marcus | Siena

---

𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕦𝕤 / / 𝟙𝟜𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Chasers115 and @PapiTan}

It wasn't too long after Marcus had changed into some dry clothing that he'd been marched back down to the briefing room. Forcefully sat once again, he'd learned exactly where to look, either at the screen, or the man himself. The correct answer in this case was the commander, as it seemed he had gathered a new toy for them. Some sort of film, or wrap, or...something. Something that wrapped itself around the man's arms by itself. A beautiful alternative to body armor, save for the one little sticking point.

It had never been tested, and they were the lab rats.

He wasn't sure how to feel about the situation. On one hand, state-of-the-art untested equipment. On the other, state-of-the-art untested equipment. They were being loaded up, but he wasn't sure if it was for their benefit, or for the data. He wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though - even the ability to shrug of a single hit was better than his current armor of a single hoodie. The three hour time limit meant they'd be suiting up when they got to the destination - as long as they didn't get ambushed on the way there like the very first day.

Then there was the other catch. A subnatural group, believed to at least be unfriendly. Another threat, that could come from absolutely anywhere and do absolutely anything with no warning. It was not an update that made him feel any better about the situation. This kind of thing meant that nobody was 100% safe - even the evac team could have nasty run-in with an angry subnatural.

Still, the big monster needed taken care of, and they had a plan that should work even with the added threats. He was just left a little more uneasy than before. At least he'd be riding around in a heavily armored truck while his friends were getting slaughtered.

Yeah, that didn't help.

Gear was the main concern for him, once the briefing had ended. First thing: a pistol; he didn't want to be caught unarmed like the first mission. Fortunately for him, the armory box was happy to oblige - even containing what appeared to be the same model he was accustomed to, not that he could name it. All things firearm was Max's area of expertise, but she'd at least taught him how to use one. A skill that he was exceedingly grateful for now.

Pistol? Check. Ammo? Check. Holster? Check. Knife, pepper spray, and baton? Check.

That would have been all for him, had a few other things in the boxes not caught his eye.

A trusty crowbar - apocolypse survivior's best friend. All the bludgeoning power of his collapsible baton, but with the added benefit of utility. Hopefully Daisy wouldn't be too mad if he snagged one before the requisition form could go through. He traded the spot where the baton sat for a makeshift crowbar-holster, leaving it hang clumsily at his side. It'd probably be less annoying in the long run if he just carried it, but that belt loop would serve as a makeshift holster for now.

And finally, the bright orange pistol. Flare gun. Neatly clipped to his side in the event of an emergency. A surefire way to get a million different enemies to come swarming over them, but a potential life-saver if there were already a million enemies swarming over them.

He fastened the belt around his waist, the crowbar bouncing lightly, but expectedly, off his leg. He untucked the hoodie and pulled it over the belt, double checking to make sure he could still reach everything just fine.

Geared up and ready to go, or that's what he hoped.

---

A swarm.

'You'll be okay.'

Siena remained silent through the briefing, her mind turning over a myriad of scenarios. She had been aware that they were going to be sent into combat situations, and had evena accepted that bleak reality early on. Every rational part of her body told her that she should be afraid, and yet the brunette felt an unnerving calm. It wasn't the same feeling as the training exercise from hell, it was...relieving? Plenty of excuses why, of course. No people as opponents, only monsters. Monsters that were cold, unfeeling machines in literal sense. There was lingering concern over the wellbeing of her teammates, but the girl had seen what they were capable of.

Her mind went back to the training exercise. Collateral damage. There were people still there, still trying to escape certain death. Still praying that they could run far and away from the clockwork fiends that felt nothing as they trampled them like grass underfoot.

'Far and away from the monster you are.'

Siena was quiet as she examined the equipment, as she traced a finger over the hilt of the knife--it was heftier than what she was used to--and considered her options. Firearms would likely be of little use against what they were up against, or...at least conventional ones. The knife would be equally useless without serious support from a name unless...

...well, that was a thought better left for the heat of battle.

With a soft sigh, Siena unbuttoned her coat. Losing access to her pockets was absolutely out of the question...perhaps it was time to look into getting her hands on something less cumbersome than an e-reader for her abilities. Really, she doubted the utility of the Wishalloy in the position that support would be in, but it was better safe than sorry. If it even worked at all...but that wasn't what she was after.

The knife, the baton, no pepperspray...her eyes drifted towards the firearms again. Not useful against the monsters, she told herself. Not useful against the monsters.

'Unless that monster is just like you.'

"Stop thinking."

If only it were that easy.

"How're you feeling?" Marcus said, giving Siena a little nudge with his elbow. Siena was one of the few people that he was legitimately worried about, and he didn't even know how she was taking the whole situation.

A voice made her jump, her fingers immediately gripping the hilt of the blade. Had her mind been slower in reminding the girl of her company, no doubt she would have drawn it. A breath, her fingers relaxed as she turned to the source, the blade staying safely tucked into its place. "O-Oh...Marcus..." Another breath and the tension dropped, grey eyes peering at her roommate.

'Careful...'

"I um...I guess I'm a little worried..." Nervous, but perhaps for the wrong reasons. "What about you? You're the one that has to worry about...well, other people..."

"It's...yeah." Marcus said, sighing a little bit. "Little tense, that's for sure." he was understating that fact - there were people out there that would be counting on them - and there were people that they weren't going to be able to help. That was the part that was drowning his thoughts out the most.

"Should be fine though; just keep my eyes open and pull people into the truck. Nothing to worry about!" He followed this statement with a hesitant smile, eyes darting to the rest of the people in the room. "Any idea who you're gonna use?" he said, referencing her power.

"Yeah, between you and the others, I'm sure you'll all do the best you can." A faint smile and a little distance between herself and the next question. "I'm hoping I can get away with someone that can soak up the hits, but in the worst case scenario..." Here, Siena hesitated, a faint light of discomfort breaking past the mental barriers for a fraction of a second before she replaced the mask. Her problem, not his. "Well, if it gets to that point, I'll have to fight fire with fire." Or...well, a monster with a monster.

"Just make sure we know which one is which: I don't want you running up on us and scaring the bejeezus out of me!" he said, giving one last look over the gear in the box. He had everything he needed; adding to his belt would just weigh him down. But what if there was some situation he wasn't prepared for?.

"Get in a couple shots for me, too!" This statement was met with another shaky grin, his optimism slowly starting to dwindle as he fretted about the mission.

Uncertainty, and it wasn't her own. Countless thoughts came to mind, but the faint echo of sympathy quicky doubled over the rest of the sea. Certainly, it wasn't as though Marcus was going to be running into battle facefirst, but responsibility over lives that weren't one's own was always taxing. The thought plucked a chord of guilt out over the girl, but she tucked the turmoil away. There would be time enough for that later, when there wouldn't be adverse effects.

Instead of returning the grin, she released a breath that had been coming too slowly and drew from experience. What was it that Maya did...? The memories were harder to conjure up properly.

"Marcus, you're going to do a good job out there." A reassuring smile, a gentle hand on the shoulder to associate with the emotion she wanted to elicit. It wasn't quite as easy without a target in mind, without Maya telling her exactly how to behave and feeding her lines as she went. Her mind went on. Pull hand away before changing tone. Good. Siena replaced the warmth with a--not too much--halfhearted grin. "But sure, if kicking a few monsters is what it takes to encourage you, I can do that too."

"That's all I ask!" Marcus said. Siena's enthusiasm had at least given him a little bit of a jump, which was all he really needed at this point. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was a little too 'motherly' for his taste, but he wasn't going to tell his roommate to stop being so supportive.

"You all geared up? Taking anything fun with you?" Not a great attempt at small-talk, but perhaps he could be excused in this one instance.

"U-Um...if a knife and baton are...fun...?" Giving a nervous laugh, the brunette found her fingers tangling themselves in her hair for a moment before she brushed the locks behind her shoulder. "I don't really want to shoot one and then have the bullet ricochet into someone else. Magic armor or not, I don't want to shoot my teammates..."

Marcus hummed to himself. He'd forgotten that he was one of the few people here who actually knew how to use a pistol - a skill that he figured should have been at the top of the training list, instead of push-ups and junk like that. It was a useful skill to have, and he imagined that the first fight could have gone way worse without it. Perhaps if the institution wasn't going to train them, he'd have to take up the mantle himself, if only so they could have another line of defense if things went wrong.

"Tell you what! When we're done with this, I'll take you out and show you how to fire a pistol! Then you won't have to worry about accidentally shooting your teammates!"

"That...actually might be a good idea," Siena replied with a smile to mask the surge of uncomfortably familiar memories that came at the offer. Calloused hands and gruff words. "Hm, guess we'll stick to knives 'ntil you get a little bigger." She continued smiling through it, putting a faint sense of cheekiness into her next statement. "I'll trade you lessons on not getting pushed into sewage for firearm training?"

"I think I learned the one lesson from that experience: 'Don't let the opposing team fall directly on top of you because who knows what's gonna happen after that?'" Marcus said, shrugging and rolling his eyes at Siena. "But if you've got any other tips you'd like to impart, then I would be happy to hear them."

"A good a lesson as any," Siena shot back. "But really, I can show you how to use a knife when we get back. In case you ever need it." Adjusting her coat, the brunette checked her pockets by patting them down briefly, making sure that all her usual sources were in their proper place. Another smile that wasn't entirely there. I guess we should head to the truck before we have to stand for three hours."

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Callan | Emma | Marcus

---

𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜 / / 𝟙𝟚𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Baklava@Chasers115@Diggerton}

Were it not for her peeking, Callan might've guessed it was Marcus that came through the door as the sound roused her awake. She hadn't been rooming with either of them long, but just by listening to their movements around the Suite, Cal felt like she could tell Siena and Marcus apart with decent accuracy. Though such acute attention to detail wasn't something she was very accustomed to. Just an alarm for when to hurriedly brush the possibility of crumbs off her chest and run her thumb along the corner of her mouth so as not to look like a barbarian as she snacked on her bed and watched her shows.

Alas. Silly, vainful efforts.

Guilt and regret. The two wicked things kept Callan rooted in place. Eyes closed as she laid there beneath her comfortor, breathing cleverly to hide the fact that she wasn't sleeping. She wrestled with the words in her mouth for far too long. If she pretended to wake up now, things might be super weird. Especially considering the genuine grogginess of her average mornings.

The door shut and Callan sat up with a sigh, staring at the door like it might reopen at any moment. She needed to apologize for her snippy comment at breakfast. She didn't want to leave things like that before they had to leave.

Heya Marcus where u at? :P

Something buzzed on her roommate's desk.

Of course.

It was getting really close to when they had to leave. Would she get a chance to talk to him if she waited? Callan looked through the window at the fierce weather outside, gears reluctantly turning towards a solution she'd rather not consider. Holding her breath, she flipped through the small list of contacts on her phone and found Emma's name.

Chill out, Cal. She's not gonna freak at you for wanting to talk to your roommate.

Hey, Emma. Do you know where Marcus is? He left his phone in the Suite.

He told me he was heading towards the track.

Ok thanks

By the way, stay safe out there.

The cursors blinked back at her as Callan hesitated to answer, though she had no idea why. What else was she going to say?

You too

Pulling on her maroon jacket, Callan grabbed her umbrella and left.

---

Marcus had found himself at the track, getting in some last minute training before they were sent out on their mission. It was mostly something for him to keep his mind off the many ways this whole thing could wrong, and partly because he wanted to test his limits. He found his mind wandering to the claw marks that marred their floor earlier in the week; clearly Callan, but a question he'd never gotten a full answer to. Was that just another example of her testing her own limits? Or was there something else afoot?

Flash

He dashed forward quickly, activating the 'jump' as he did. Then, as the vertigo had subsided for a split second, he did it again. Two consecutive rewinds followed, placing him back into a runner's position.

It was an odd feeling - he'd normally be panting heavily and wiping the sweat off his brow after an exertion like that, but the rewind left him feeling like he hadn't done anything at all. Besides the dull thudding of his left knee; but that was an old injury he'd grown accustomed to - no amount of rewinding would take that one away now.

He sighed heavily and let out a small shiver, slight drops of rain flecking from his face as he did so. The cooldown was his enemy here; a whole minute for his thoughts to run rampant. He dared not to sit down, even though his torn hoodie was mostly soaked through at this point. Fortunately, he'd been intelligent enough to purchase a new one with his free week, but the torn one was now his official training outfit. At least until it got warmer. He stretched once more, having already done so several times between using his ability. At this point, however, it was more out of nerves than anything else.

Do you think we're ready for this?

In the privacy of his own mind, he wasn't as sure as he'd made himself sound.

Rounding the corner of the gym building beside the track, Callan spotted Marcus through the chain link fence a good distance away. She watched and waited, just out of sight, as she collected her thoughts again. Since when was talking to Marcus a difficult thing to do? She was here for an apology, not a confession.

She took a deep breath, spinning the umbrella in her hand a few times before holding it steady and stepping forward. She stopped at the corner of the field, well out of his way while she waited for him to see her.

One more sequence of dashes and rewinds, and Marcus was once again taking another stretch. As he twisted his torso around, he caught a shape out of the corner of his eye. Despite the rain that was pouring down, he could see the strand of aquamarine that denoted his roommate, and he gave her a quick wave.

"'Sup Cal?" he shouted. "Come to break the bleachers again?"

He grinned as he said this, walking over to her position. It was about time he get out of the rain anyway, and get changed for the mission.

"Hey Marcus," she smiled back, "Nah, not today." The words came out easier than she thought they would. "I, uh. I actually wanted to talk to you."

"Well then, talk away." Marcus said, the tone in his voice noticably shifting to a more serious one. 'I actually wanted to talk' was one of those key phrases that even he could recognize as the beginning to a more serious conversation than his usual demeanor facillitated.

"I was just about to head back to the suite anyway. Don't want to catch pnuemonia right before we get sent out!" he added.

"Oh," she blinked back at him, noticing his obvious lack of umbrella, "Yeah. Okay. I'll just. Talk while we walk then." Torn between what she was saying and wanted to do, her umbrella, almost of its own volition, gravitated away from herself and towards Marcus. Not offering to share would be rude and yet sharing didn't feel quite right either. Especially with Ernie's jest during breakfast that morning still fresh in her mind. A fresh sheet of rain splashed across the side of her cheek as she held her umbrella over his head, seemingly unphased.

"Why thank you!" Marcus said, sidling closer to Callan to take advantage of her umbrella offer. His mind flicked to what Ernie had said at breakfast earlier that morning, but he contemplated the humorous parallel silently in his head. Then he thought of what Max had said during their conversation; she'd be having a field day with a situation like this.

"So what's on your mind?" he asked, turning his head to look over at Callan.

She followed Marcus with her umbrella as he moved closer, using every ounce of self control not to visibly tense up her shoulders while her mind reeled from the consequences of her indecision. She should've just handed it to him. Doing her best to brush it off, she turned her attention towards answering his question as they began walking.

"Uh. About this morning," she started, glancing at him without turning, "Sorry for calling you out like that. Ernie pretty much hit the nail on the head. You can think of it like a game if you want. If that helps."

She smiled ruefully, brushing her hair behind her ear, "I mean, I'm guilty of it, too. Uh. Not that it's anything to feel guilty about. Like Ernie said, we're all coping in our own way... and actually...." As they passed under the portico outside the gym's entrance, Callan stopped, shifting a step away.

"That's one of the things I really like about you. I wish I was half as good at keeping everyone's spirits up. But I'm not. And I'm worried. Like-- really worried. About you... and Siena." She almost forgot to tack on the name, feeling relieved and ashamed in equal measure. Not the most eloquent apology she'd ever given, but it would do.

Marcus inwardly cursed himself. This sort of thing certainly wasn't a game; his statement at breakfast had been a little joke, but had apparently turned him into the guy that can't take a job without making it into a little arcade objective. He was well aware that this wasn't going to be a stroll in the park, but maybe everyone considering him childish just came with the jokester persona.

"Nono, it's not a game; this is serious business." Marcus said, the slightly brewing frustration well hidden. "I was just making another one of my jokes; I'm not going to be taking this lightly, don't worry about that." He listened intently to the rest of what she had to say, before responding.

"That's my job as the funny guy! Make sure all you people remember to smile once and while." Marcus said, cracking his own half-grin. That's really all it was to him: a job. More of an obligation than his actual personality. That personality was one that had died when everything fell apart though - and he was happy to fulfill this role instead.

"But..." he said, tone shifting back to serious. "If you think for one second that I'm not worried about you guys, you're wrong. You and Siena are both on the front lines today, while I'm in the back helping people get the hell out of dodge. Even Emma is out there with Siena! The three people I am the closest to at this place are all going to be fighting for their lives, and there is absolutely no way for me to help if something goes wrong. So yeah, I'm worried too, Cal." he said, exasperation in his voice. He mentally kicked himself: this certainly wasn't going to make Callan feel any better about the situation, but it was something he needed to get off his chest.

Callan smiled back sincerely. "No, I know. I know you're taking it seriously. I like your jokes." She stopped herself there. This was beginning to feel like less of an apology and she had to remind herself not to think about crossing any lines. (Not that she'd have the gall to do so anyway.)

"Save your worrying for Siena and Emma-- and especially yourself. I'll be fine. And I'll make sure they're fine. Both of them." She smiled confidently, cocking her head to the side. Of course Marcus was worried, too. But she hoped to put his mind at ease.

"Well, I'm glad you get a kick out of them. Usually people charge for that kind of entertainment." Marcus said. He was regaining a little bit of his funny side now that he'd unloaded his worries onto Callan, and he smirked when he turned to look at her again.

"I'll keep a little worry for you, too; just in case the monster decides to fling his pants at you or something." he said, giving her a slight jab with his elbow as he did.

Callan scrunched up her nose with a faux grimace before laughing. "Well, they can hear and understand us, remember? If all else fails, you can knock'em dead with some jokes." Just like that, they were on their way back to the dorms again.

"If I'm close enough to tell any jokes, it means something's gone horribly wrong. You done goofed if that's the case." Marcus said with a chuckle. "Unless you want to patch me through to a radio or something - I can give the front team some moral support during the whole thing!"

"Of course, it's never gonna happen, but that's probably for the best. If we broadcast your jokes, we might lose half our unit to friendly fire."

"Half? I think they'll just switch sides and come hunt me down!" Marcus said. He chuckled slightly, before falling silent again as a thought crossed his mind.

"Hey Cal..." he said, turning to face her with his hand extended. "A promise: I'll make it back if you do!" he said. Despite the slightly morbid agreement, he still forced a smile out as he said it.

Callan stared at the extended hand. Unlike Marcus, a flicker of melancholy overcame her smile. The remnants of worries that could never be completely laughed away as she quietly observed the way his scars moved when he smiled. "Heh," she grinned back, taking his hand before he had the chance to notice anything amiss, "Easiest promise of my life."

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Sander | Marcus | Emma
Callan | Ernest | Siena | Chris

---

𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕦𝕤 / / 𝟘𝟟𝟛𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Baklava@Chasers115@PapiTan@banjoanjo@dragonmancer@Diggerton@RedDusk}

"Siena," Callan said the girl's name to catch her attention after dismissal, her expression grave. Umbrella in hand, she stared at her roommate with traces of fear quickening her heart beat and forcing deliberation into her breathing. Only it was less fear and more worry, mixed with that same rush of adrenaline from the first fight. She'd be fine. What else was super strength and resistance good for? But her roommates....

"Help me find Marcus. Let's get breakfast," she said after a short pause, as though she'd considered saying something else.

After a brief surveyal of the area beneath the portico outside the dining hall, Callan spotted Marcus. It came as no surprise that he was already chatting with Emma. A dull pang of jealousy that had become all too familiar the past few days gnawed away at the back of her head, but she had other things to be worried about now. More important than stupid crushes or barely present rivalries. She tried not to think about it, anyway.

"Hey," she said quickly, glancing warily between the two. "Breakfast?" She kept it simple. Few things ever managed to get in the way of Callan's appetite, but she was more eager to sit down and talk about what was going on than anything.

Emma responded to Marcus with a smile. Anxious, but a smile all the same. "I wish I had the same confidence..." she bit her lip, a sign of the nervousness mounting in her. "I can't help but think-" Emma cut herself off when she saw Callan approaching. She looked at Cal and than at Marcus, responding to both of their offers for breakfast, "Yeah. Let's." she replied. Wouldn't want to die on an empty stomach, after all. With that she gave the pair a slight nod and pointed towards the buffet before heading off in the direction.

"Oh there you two are! I was starting to wonder where you'd gone off to." Marcus said, with a slight chipperness that seemed to be in short supply currently. Everyone likely had the same worries and questions he did, with Emma having asked the really big one already. He tried to hide his own thoughts; focusing more on trying to put everyone else's fears (and his own, if it worked out that way) to rest.

"Read my mind, Cal: gotta make sure you get the most important meal of the- yadda yadda, blah blah, let's get some pancakes!" he said, interrupting himself with and eye roll and dismissive hand gesture, followed by an excited little bounce - one that probably mirrored Tater Tot's eccentric hopping more than he was willing to admit.

With a hollow smile, Callan nodded and led the way. Entering the cafeteria, she noticed Sander as her card was swiped through. He was sitting on one of the couches with a cup of what was probably coffee. Staring out the window as if lost in thought. "I'll meet you guys at the table," she said quickly as she slipped her I.D. back into her pocket.

---

Callan stopped just a few feet in front of Sander, looking across the cafeteria as if searching for someone as she walked. "Hey, Sander," she said simply, hands in her pockets, "You want to come sit with us? " Her nervous smiles and light hearted attitude were replaced by a serious calm. Every movement felt painstakingly deliberate as she tried to will herself to relax. She glanced past Sander again before her eyes finally fell on a tray of food that wasn't quite aligned right on the table. "Where's Christmas? He can come, too." she added.

Sander turned his head a little bit too soon, even before Callan came to stand in front of him. He looked mildly surprised, as if he didn’t expect her to be there at all –“Huh? Christmas is…busy.” -He cast a meaningful glance toward a direction, before turning back –“Just me.”

"Is he okay?" she asked. The last monster fight hadn't ended very well for Christmas. Of course, it could've been worse, but that wasn't super reassuring.

"He's fine." -Again, empty assurances that Sander had used for others and himself both over the course of the last few days. It wasn't the truth, not even half of it, but it was all he had.

"Are you okay?"

Another surprised look from Sander, but this time, it was soon followed by a soft smile -"I'm fine. You?"

Callan seemed just as surprised by Sander's smile. It was a small comfort. "All things considered, I'm doin' alright," she replied, hesitently smiling in return. The quicker she, Sander, and Chris eradicated whatever the hell that thing on the screen was, the less danger there would be for Siena and Marcus. And everyone else. "Glad to see you're not losing your nerve," she smiled a little wider, "I'm gonna need your help out there."

She lowered her gaze and the smile slightly faded, "Just coffee for breakfast?"

The prospect of fighting near someone he could say he knew, or liked even, still scared Sander somewhat, but he pushed the irrational fear to the back of his mind. Callan had seen him there, and she was alright with it. So maybe he shouldn't be too concerned himself.

"...yeah. Not really hungry. But you are, right?"

She shrugged, "I'm a little more tired than hungry. Not sure why they woke us up so damn early just to have us wait around for seven hours, but oh well. Pancakes sound pretty good right about now anyway." Visibly she seemed to relax, but there was still that slight edge to her voice. It was easier to talk to Sander in spite of everything that was on her mind. Maybe because she wasn't as worried about him? Not like her roommates.

"Just make sure you don't starve yourself all day, right?" she smiled apologetically. "You'll still sit with us, yeah?"

"Yeah, don't worry." -Sander moved to stand up, waiting for Callan to lead -"Let's go."

---

With their next so-called mission in mind, Siena had been quieter than the norm, her mind already racing through unpleasant memories of their first true combat experience. The image of Padma's demise was still fresh--why wouldn't it be? She still had vivid dreams that replaced the girl with other figures--and more than enough to drive a blanket of unease. The thoughts consumed her so efficiently that Siena barely noticed that she had probably been listlessly staring in the general direction of--nothing. Just the space ahead of her, which might have had people during their trek, but...well, nobody was waving a hand in front of her face, questioning her presence mentally. That was probably some indication that she hadn't been intently peering at someone without realizing.

Shaking her head to clear it, Siena realized soon enough that she had effectively lost Callan and...

...Marcus? That was the one they'd been looking for, right?

"Oh...oh no..." When had she gotten to the cafe--where had she put her wallet? A mixture of relief and anxiety twisted in her gut, both familiar and yet entirely confusing. Maybe she wasn't adapting to her new life as well as she wanted to. Sending her gaze around the cafeteria, the brunette caught sight of a familiar face not terribly far away. Faced with the option of dining alone or helplessly wandering around until she found the group, Siena decided to take the plunge, calling to the boy with a full-motion wave of the arm. "Chris!"

"Hey Siena." The white haired arbiter said as he had walked over to her. "Whats up?"

"Just getting breakfast with my roommates." A pause followed by a sheepish smile paired with a faint wince. "...or that was the plan before I lost them."

"Well that sucks. I am a bit hungry myself, why don't we go get breakfast instead?" Chris returned a warm smile. An expression he had become more accustomed with everytime he saw her. He had placed his pale hands in the pockets of his blue coats as he awaited a response.

"Yeah...I'm sure we'll be able to find them too." There weren't that many people around either way--it was more a matter of figuring out where her roommates decided to sit. Giving a smile, Siena sent her gaze over the tables briefly. "I keep hearing about this 'waffle' thing. I figured it might be good to try it."

"Y-you never had a waffle before?" Chris stuttered a bit, waffles were almost as common as pancakes for breakfast. At least thats the impression he had. Were waffles not that well known outside of his own town?

Quickly realizing her mistake, Siena formulated a quick excuse to cover her tracks--a grain of truth, even if it wasn't entirely. "Oh, well...I didn't get many options. Something balanced and healthy for energy." Flicking her bangs from her eyes, the brunette left a thoughtful pause linger in the air. "Though I guess I also never asked for them, so nobody brought it up."

Chris shrugged off the minor quirk, not bothering to think about how unlikely that was. "Well its sweet. You need to put butter and maple syrup on it though, maybe some cream too." He explained. "I think I'll get one too."

"Haha...maybe I should get one after you to get a few tips to follow." With a faint smile, Siena shifted her weight slightly, as if preparing to start walking. Maya's voice echoed in her head, scolding her for too much of a shift. Too much and it's pushy, just enough to suggest it. "It'll be an adventure for one of us, at least."

"Well I never thought I'd witness someone discovering a waffle." he teased lightly, and followed her shifted direction as he walked. Chris obtained two stacks of belgium waffles covered in butter and syrup, and a buttered toast on the side.

"Well, I guess there's a first for both of us then," Siena shot back with a sense of ease that she was surprised at. Another wave of familiarity and discomfort, but she pushed it away as she followed Chris's example, the thought that this might be the last meal she ate fluctuating from an alarm to a whisper in the din that frequented her mind.

---

At the sight of Marcus excitedly bounding towards the pancake section, Ernie grinned and gave a short wave. The Aberration's own tray was stacked with a multitude of pancakes, exotic looking fruits and yogurt tubs, uncharacteristically more than the usual meager pieces of toast he ate. His last meal had to be something special after all.

"Someone's an eager beaver," Ernie laughed and grabbed another piece of dragonfruit. He didn't even know how to eat that crap, "Getting ready for the big day?"

Marcus was interrupted in his food gathering by the familiar voice of Ernie. He turned aorund to face him, the one pancake he had on his plate sliding slightly across the tray. "Listen, I haven't been up early enough this week to get breakfast, and do you know when the last time I had pancakes was? I don't even remember!" The child-like mirth in his voice was evident, but spiced with a slight dash of the same apprehension that seemed to hang over everybody's heads.

"Not early enou-- Geez, what are you even doing up all night?" Ernie looked confused, "Hey, I don't wanna hear that kinda talk from a guy who gets to have a kitchen in his own dorm. Make yer own damn pancakes! Invite people over for a pancake party! Simple."

Marcus nonchalantly shrugged, looking over the assortment of fruits that were laid out. "I'll be honest: pancakes didn't exactly seem like a priority in the grand scheme of things; but you sir, have made an excellent argument! I hadn't even considered having breakfast at any point in the day! Truly, this is a magical place!" he said the words with as much sarcastic excitement as he could, grinning slightly and throwing an apple on his tray.

"Why stop at pancakes? Two minute noodles, stirfry, wedding cakes," Ernie looked as if he could ramble on for a while, but stopped himself, "You gotta let me borrow your kitchen sometime. Steak just ain't the same when you don't make it yourself. Or when you have to share a cooking space with a gazillion other Aberrations."

As Ernie rambled, Marcus's brain was thankfully thinking of something other than the mission they were about to go on. He'd learned quite a bit of cooking back before the incident - he was certainly home alone enough to pick it up out of necessesity. Max hadn't been much of a help when she was around either; she always preferred the quick and easy meals. Maybe it was something to look forward to in the coming week. Callan and Siena would probably enjoy a good meal - he sincerly doubted either of them had ever cooked for themselves if Siena's apparent wealth and Callan's plethora of discarded snack bags were evidence. Hell, Emma'd probably appreciate a meal too...a nice little gesture she'd undoubtably make fun of him for.

"Not a bad idea." Marcus pondered. "As long as you pinky promise not to accidentally burn the room down or steal my food and run off with it!" he joked, chuckling slightly to himself.

Roast potatoes, curly fries, pot stickers. Ernie's smile was almost wistful now as his brain reeled off a list of everything he wanted to try before...

"Please, dude. That only happened, like, once. And it was only the curtains that really got damaged!"

He liked this. Talking as if they weren't going to die in a few hours. Ah well, a guy could dream.

"How 'bout this? You set a date and we can plan a menu when we get back, yeah?"

"We'll have to see what days they give us off; I would absolutely not be surprised in the least if they give us classes on a Saturday because we missed them while fighting unimaginable horrors." he replied. He was kidding of course, but there was a small part of his mind worried that he's just jinxed it. They wouldn't be that mea- yes they would.

"Ew, don't even joke about that," Ernie grimaced but inside he felt pretty nice. Why couldn't they worry about these little things more often, instead of fearing for their lives? "Anyway, where we sitting?"

Emma was already seated at one of the larger tables so they made their way to her. Easy to spot, now that the cafeteria was empty. Marcus took a seat by the girl while Ernie sat across them. Soon afterwards, Siena approached with a white-haired boy beside her. Chris the Dragon, if Ernie recalled correctly. He welcomed the pair with a friendly wave, as Marcus greeted Chris with a small salute and knowing grin.

Emma gave Chris her usual smile. "I'm Emma." she said with a small wave.

Approaching the table everyone had flocked to, Callan knew it probably wasn't necessary, but she felt obligated to introduce Sander. She hadn't seen him chat with very many people and it would probably be rude to dump him here without any explaination. "Hey guys, this is Sander. He's sitting with us." she said simply before lightly knocking the back of her hand against Sander's arm to catch his attention. "Gonna grab some food. I'll be right back."

“Hi.” -Sander nodded, eyes flickered across the faces that had gathered. Pointless, since he knew most of everyone here by scent already, but still, it was only the polite thing to do. There was Callan, of course, then Marcus and Emma, who he still remembered vaguely from that first fight. Siena was there as well, along with…the white-haired boy. Sander remembered those two as well, though his memories of them were far less pleasant. And speaking of unpleasant, Ernie was seated just right across from him. That brought a frown to Sander’s expression, but he willed it away fast enough as he settled down into his seat.

But he no longer had any business with Ernie. The other Aberration had promise to stay away from Christmas, and that was all he never needed from Ernie. Yet, the school wanted Ernie to protect the blond boy. And Sander couldn’t really trust him to that. He just stared at the Aberration, and wondered, fingers tapping slightly on his cup of coffee. There was no anger in his eyes. No hatred. Just a simple, curious look. But it was rude to just stare, so he forced out a few words for the rope mage –“Good morning, Ernie.”

Ernie stiffened as Sander approached. So he was friends with Cal too. Did she... No. If she knew she would have said something about it. Probably. It's not like Ernie knew her outside of idle cafeteria conversations. Still, he didn't want on the bad side of the class' two biggest powerhouses. The dark-haired boy turned his gaze down to his plate, knowing that dangerous blue eyes were watching him. Urgh, he didn't need the rest of the table seeing him act weird. Just be natural.

Ernie swallowed his mouthful of pancake and gave Sander a nod of acknowledgement. "Morning."

Too stiff? Too brusque? He tried to add more.

"Not hungry?" he asked, indicating at Sander's noticable lack of breakfast.

"No." -Came the curt answer, and Sander's gaze didn't falter.

"Yeah, well, shout if you want anything. Got plenty here, as you can see," Ernie gestured to his overloaded plate. By now, Ernie's tone was noticeably more muted than usual. God, that stare was unsettling. He looked down at his plate again in a vain attempt to ignore it.

Sander merely held his stare after nodding once to acknowledge Ernie’s offer.

Marcus gave Sander a short wave when he showed up and sat down in the seat directly beside him. Although he was trying to bury his prejudice, He was still a little bit unsure of Sander despite the talk they'd had, similar to how he was still a little unsure about...oh no..

The realization caused him to stop mid-chew and also stiffen, albeit a little less than Ernie himself did. Having these two at the table was probably not a good idea - especially considering that he'd told Ernie to give it a week or so before he got within range of Sander, not two days. And there did seem to be quite a bit of palpable irritation between the two, something Marcus noted as his wide eyes worriedly flicked back and forth between them. He very slowly shifted slightly towards Emma and away from Sander, in preparation for the brewing shitstorm.

Emma wasn't ignorant to the awkward tone that was settling over the table. She gave Marcus a slight look of curiousty, but didn't hold it very long, instead looking towards Sander with a wide smile. "I, uh, don't think we've really met. I'm Emma, but you might already know that... just 'Em' is fine, also."

“Emma.” -Sander nodded, tearing his eyes away from Ernie for a moment. He forced a stiff smile in return for Emma's much brighter one –“Yeah. I haven’t seen you around since…the first day. How have you been?”

Emma responded with a small shrug. "All things considered not too bad," she lied, glancing across the table, "Friends make it easier, right?" she said, trailed by a small laugh.

“Yeah. Your friends.” -Once again, Sander nodded in agreement, his gaze drifted across the table to follow Emma’s and stopped at Ernie. Fingers dug into the wall of his paper cup, its shape deforming a bit before Sander could will himself to relax –“Good for you.”

Emma gave Sander a confused look. Was he mad at her? "Uhhh... y-yeah."

'Friends'? Was that some kind of subtle dig about Christmas? About Ernie? The black-haired mage covered his scowl with another mouthful of pancake, watching as Sander slightly crushed his cup. He was mocking him, wasn't he. Some kind of 'I'm always watching' message. He could kill Ernie with the squeeze of his hand. It was bad enough that he came to sit with them, but staring too? He wanted to watch Ernie squirm. And on such a day like this. Fuck Sander. Fuck him. That bastard wanted to ruin his last meal? Wanted to play around with Ernie in front of everyone? Well Ernie was rarely one to turn down such a challenge.

"I got something on my face, Sander?" Ernie stared pointedly back at the boy. Bring it, asshat.

Callan's tray hit the table as she took a seat beside Ernie, oblivious to the influx of tension from Ernie's question as well as the question itself. The anticipation of a good meal was yet another small comfort she was grateful for as she tried not to let what if's and maybe's permeate her thoughts. Looking across the table, however, it was clear to see something was amiss.

"Huh?" -Sander blinked, slightly taken aback -"No."

"In my teeth, then?"

"No."

"On my shirt?"

"No." -Sander quirked an eyebrow -"You are clean. Don't worry."

"Then what's with all the staring?" Ernie leaned back and crossed his arms. His tone was joking but his expression was unamused, "You think I have a pretty face or something?"

"No." -Sander frowned, unsure of what to make of that latest question.

"Quit staring then. I wanna eat breakfast."

"Alright. Go ahead." -Sander agreed easily, looking back down at the coffee cup clasped in his hands. Ernie merely clicked his tongue in response and continued eating.

"Man..." Marcus interrupted, halfway through his pancake, and looking for any reason to break the rising tension. "What do you think the deal is with that thing we're up against, anyway? The guy said it's human - but it certainly didn't look like it. You think that's part of the power?" he said, looking to everyone at the table.

Engrossed in the bizarrely tense conversation that was happening between Ernie and Sander, it took some effort for Callan to steer her thoughts back towards the matter at hand. The whole reason she'd invited Sander to sit with her in the first place. "Maybe it's a transformation thing," Callan mused, shooting Sander one last wary look before fully commiting to the change in topic, "Like what Chris does?"

Emma stared at the pair as they went back and forth. There was obviously... something going on here, but Emma didn't care to involve herself in it. "I... don't know, but I don't think Kardos would say he's human if he wasn't sure..." Emma said, shrugging.

Sander pondered the question, but he decided to keep his answer to himself. The power changed them, and that change went deeper than the mark. Some more than others. Human or no, the outcome of the battle wouldn’t change, as far as he was concerned. Someone must die so the rest could live. The pressing question, for him, was who would die. His gaze flickered back to Ernie again, despite his words.

"Well, whatever it is... you guys shouldn't worry about it," Callan said firmly, "Sander and I will take care of it. Chris, too. That thing's as good as dead." For all her confidence when it came to her strength, even Callan wasn't this dumb. Apparently they'd been throwing subnaturals at that thing all night and a category three didn't sound like anything she should be taking lightly. Even so, she didn't want the others worrying about her when they should be worrying about themselves. An army of mechanized monsters didn't seem any less harmless than attacking the source-- especially when all it takes is a single well-aimed blow to the head.

"Those bots seem like they could be a problem though. Strength in numbers and all that, right?"

"Nothing our support team can't handle," Ernie mused. It seemed that he hadn't noticed Sander's eyes on him yet, "Emma's pull-guy can sweep them in while Hazel and stuff wreck the lot, right?"

Emma smiled at Callan's confidence. That was something she could admire, even if she wasn't sure if it was true. ”Yeah. I'm sure you guys will kick their butts!” she said with no small amount of enthusiasm. False enthusiasm, but she was making an effort. As for Ernie's apparent certainty that they would have the small fry handled, well...

Emma's power was still inconsistent, as it had been since their 'game'. Things had gotten better since her date with Marcus, but there was still a degree of trepidation within her. She'd actually had sporadic periods of her entire arsenal available to her... except Determination. She'd only succeeded in bringing him out a single time since Hazel publicly shamed her. She found it quite discouraging that her most valuable summon might not be there for the battle.

She was, however, able to consistently summon Love, something that she found incredibly embarrassing and caused her no small amount of guilt. Foolish, stupid girl. one of the voices inside her echoed. She, of course, wasn't about to share any of that information with the group. Instead she nodded at Ernie, ”If we don't keep them down they'll cause you guys trouble... I... we've all got to do our part so we can all come back.” she said, her smile growing. Her forced smile.

"Yeah, and as long as you guys keep them from spilling out, my job will completely consist of a fun little game of Hide-and-Go-Seek!" Marcus grinned widely, pleased with the sudden boost of confidence everybody seemed to be having.

"Heh," the corner of Callan's mouth quirked into a half successful attempt at a smile, "Try not to have too much fun, Marcus. It's a not a game this time." That was bit unfair of her. Everyone was trying to stay positive and confident, but as they all trivialized the task at hand, she couldn't help worrying that they might not be careful enough. Immensely hypocritical, but she couldn't help it. Not when Marcus was the one saying it.

"A game's just a situation with win-lose scenarios though," Ernie scratched his face, "You could call anything a game, really, especially the mission. With me it's just another round of Protect the Healer, only with bigger stakes this time."

He looked at Cal. He wasn't joking this time. Did she really think that being such a buzzkill was going to help anyone? Ernie didn't need bummed out teammates getting their asses kicked and exposing his own group just because their morale was down.

"If thinking of it as a game makes it easier to know what to do, then I don't see a problem with it. Mission objectives and all that, yeah? If Marc could find a way to get some fun out of these win-lose scenarios, then maybe we could all do a little better."

"We" referring to Cal, of course.

"But hey, whatever gets you in the zone, man."

"I'm just saying," Callan answered quickly, glancing at Marcus again before looking down at her tray, "You guys should be careful."

Marcus seemed slightly taken aback by Callan's response, preparing to stammer out a response interrupted by Ernie. He sat silently while the two talked quickly between each other, before speaking up himself. "N-no, I just meant..." he trailed off. Of course he knew that this wasn't a game - this was an actual mission; and it wasn't like he was actively trying to make a scenario where people could get killed into his own fun playtime.

He found no words to continue his defense, instead choosing to avert his eyes back down to his breakfast, taking a small bite.

Emma gave Ernie a glance filled with venom, and then Callan one with significantly less venom. She cleared her throat, ”We’re all just trying to cope in our own ways, right? I’m sure we all know well enough that it’s going to be dangerous out there.” she said as cheerfully as she could.

Ernie met Emma's glare with an amused look. Damn, it was fun annoying her. He'd have to do it more often.

"Yeah, as long as you know what the stakes are, do whatever the hell..." Ernie was caught off-guard when he looked over the table and saw Sander's eyes on him again. Did this fucker really... No. Not right now. He coughed and continued more meekly, "...yeah, whatever works. We'll all be giving it our all out there anyway. Just different approaches, that's all it is."

"Will you be giving your all? - Sander spoke suddenly, breaking out of whatever train of thoughts he was chasing at the moment. The question was obviously directed at Ernie.

There was a moment of silence as Ernie glared back, obviously irritated by Sander's interjection.

"Even I'm not stupid enough to let anything happen to our 'precious healer'," the Aberration practically spat the last part out. It seemed that he was avoiding uttering Christmas' name out loud, "So yeah, I'll be doing that. I'll do my job and you make sure you keep that berserking pointed at the robot, yeah?"

"I...don't want to hurt you, Ernie." -Despite the other party's aggression, Sander remained oddly calm. Melancholic, even -"But I can always find you. And I will." - Once again, threats that sounded more like warnings.

Emma gave Sander a look of incredulity. Sure, she didn’t like Ernie but that was a straight up threat. She couldn’t just let that slide, could she? She cleared her throat, trying to get their attention off of each other and onto her. ”Okay, that’s it. This is super awkward. What’s going on here? I don’t care if you guys have some kind of beef, but I’d like my last breakfast to be pleasant.” she said flatly.

From bad to worse. Callan looked up from her tray as Sander addressed Ernie. What had gotten into him? Had she missed something? Thankfully Emma managed to intervene before she worked up the courage to say something in spite of her previous embarrassment. "Emma's right. Sander, do you have to do this right now?" Callan looked to Sander with frustrated betrayal. Even without knowing why the two were on bad terms, she'd expected him to be better than this.

They were seriously taking his side? Well, it was a pretty idiotic move for Sander to do it in front of everyone.

"Emma's totally right. This is my last breakfast. So instead of fucking around and threatening to do shit to me, why don't you just wait a few hours and let the robots do it for you? Would save you a lotta blood on those designer jeans," Ernie crossed his arms, seething, "If not, then shut up, fuck off, and let me eat in peace."

If he were talking to any other person, Ernie probably would have goaded them on to hit him then and there. But this was Sander. Not even this nihilistic bravado gave him the guts to challenge the boy straight on.

Sander blinked, mildly surprised as he looked at Emma first, then Callan. Of course, they didn't approve. He couldn't say he did, either -"I'm sorry. -He said quickly, eyes retreated back to the cup of coffee in his hands.

"Man." Marcus said quietly, eager to change the conversation for the second time so far. "You think we'll still have that physical training thing today?" He joked, his grin still recovering from Callan's scolding. "That thing's taken up enough of my well-earned free time!"

Content with Sander's apology, Callan decided to forget about it for now, firing off one final warning look before Marcus stepped in to change the subject. His lack of response concerning Callan's earlier statement hadn't gone unnoticed. She could've been a bit more tactful with voicing her concern, but she didn't mean to make him feel bad. Even if it had caused some momentary friction, she hoped he wouldn't forget what she said. Joking around was kind of his thing, but she wanted to make sure Marcus would take this seriously-- for his sake.

Emma gave a slight nod at Sander's apology. Hopefully that would be the last she heard of their rivalry, at least until they were past the life-threatening situations. Well, she doubted they would ever be entirely safe, but at least past the immediate danger. Emma gave a sharp sigh at Marcus's mention of their training. She had never exactly been athletic and the aches she felt over her body told her that mandatory excercise certainly wasn't doing her any favors. "I sure hope not. Things keep going at this rate and I might start to lose some of this flabbiness." she joked, pinching some of the flesh on her arms to accentuate her point.

Ernie looked up from his food, desperate to get back into the usual swing of conversation after embarrassing himself and blowing up like that. Thank god Marcus was here to make a distraction. Ernie raised an eyebrow at Emma's self-deprecating comment. High school people did that a lot, right? Say bad things about themselves so people would laugh or reassure them? Ernie gave it a spin.

"Aw, no need to put yourself down like that, Emma," he smirked and flexed a rather pathetic, skinny arm, "Keep up the hard work and soon you'll get to be as scrawny as me and Marcus!"

"Aw yeah, aren't you jealous of our rockin' physique?" Marcus said, his mood immediately lightening up a bit at Ernie's remark. He rolled down his right sleeve to flex his non-existent muscle, giving everyone at the table a cocky look. "Don't you just wish you could be this beefy?"

Sander looked up briefly, brows scrunched up in confusion. Despite herself, Callan chuckled sheepishly.

Emma joined the laughter with a small giggle of her own, "Oh yeah, beefcake, you betchya. With chicken arms like those you're lucky I give you the time of day." in response Emma flexed her own arm, displaying her distinct lack of muscle, "I think I might be more built than you, and that's saying something" she teased.

"Well there we go: next date idea." Marcus said with a grin, rolling his sleeve back down. "Gym date. Nothing like a gross, sweaty, workout session!"

SNAP. Callan's plastic fork broke in half. She blinked up at Emma and Marcus in surprise. "Whoops," she muttered after a moment's hesitation, heat rushing to her face. "Good thing I grabbed a spare!" she forced herself to laugh. Uncomfortably shifting in her seat. She wrapped her hand around her glass of orange juice and quickly brought it to her lips. "You guys are dating?" she chuckled into her cup, poorly feigning disinterest as she took a sip.

When Callan broke her own fork in two Emma regarded her with an awkward smile, shooting back at Marcus, "Not sure if the gym is a great idea, I'd probably make you look bad." she said, her smile shifting back into a more natural one. When Callan asked them if they were dating her expression went flat. She looked towards Marcus, shrugging "Well... uhhhh..." he didn't seem to have a problem with proposing a date right in front of them, so she supposed that he didn't have an issue with labeling their relationship, "Y-yeah. We are." she said, smiling again.

Uhhhhh.

Ernie's gaze shifted rapidly between Cal, Emma and Marcus. Did Cal... really not know? Did Emma really not know that Cal didn't know? Did Marcus know anything? Ernie flinched at the sound of snapped plastic and quickly bundled the fragments into a spare napkin. Messes were bad. This situation seemed bad too, for Cal anyway. She seemed particularly shaken, with that terrible fake laugh and orange juice. Emma... looked strange for a second too but seemed to brush off Cal's reaction. Ernie would have to follow up on both later but right now the conversation came first.

"Eyy! Nice to get some good news in this place for once!" Ernie tossed the bundle into an empty corner of his tray for later disposal. Eyebrows were suggestively raised at Marcus, "If you need me to steal an umbrella so the two of you are 'forced' to share one, just hit me up, yeah?"

Marcus's head jerked upright as Callan broke her utensil, settling down when he realized. His eyes flicked to Emma after Callan's question: they'd been on one date, and he thought they had been dating, but he'd learned in the past not to be so presumptuous. Of course, if he was avoiding that, he probably shouldn't have mentioned a date right in front of everyone. Fortunately, it seemed that Emma had the same notion, and he grinned as he took another bite of of breakfast.

"Thanks, pal." Marcus said to Ernie with a roll of his eyes. "I can always count on you to have my back."

Callan forced another grin as Ernie congratulated Emma and Marcus for the good news, hoping that was enough to comminucate the lie that she felt the same. Her glass hovered in front of her mouth as Callan silently watched Ernie collect the fragments of her old fork into a neat little bundle. Had she been present, she might've thought that was odd but thanked him anyway. As it were, her mind was far away and barely processing much of anything aside from the smiles of the 'couple' sitting across from her, which she caught in small half-second bursts as her amethyst eyes flickered between Marcus, Emma, and the glass in her hand.

Callan remained quiet as the conversation went on, eventually setting down her glass and poking at what was left of her pancakes with her spare fork. Why are you surprised? She inwardly berated herself. All week, Emma and Marcus had exchanged their fair share of silly banter, but it had been different than when she joked around him. She wasn't entirely clueless when it came to this sort of thing. Though she had to admit how foolish she'd been for trying to hope she was closer than she was.

Ernie cackled at Marcus' eye roll. "Just trying to help a buddy out. Listen, if you need a bucket of rose petals for whatever reason, I can hook you up. Got transferred with a guy who can help you. Just ask for 'Hurk from West'. And don't ask where he got the petals from."

The way Ernie pronounced 'Hurk' like a vomiting noise was suspicious but he seemed unperturbed.

"So how long has this been happening? Couldn't be all the way from Monday, could it?" Ernie's eyes flickered to Emma at the mention of Monday.

Emma forced a smile at Ernie’s joke. She still didn't know why everyone liked the guy (Except Sander, apparently), but it wasn't her place to try to excommunicate him from their motley crew. In response to his question she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. If Emma was bothered by the mention of Monday’s lunch she didn’t let it show, ”I guess since Tuesday? It hasn’t really… it hasn’t been a ‘thing’ for very long.” she said, shrugging slightly.

Marcus sat quietly, nodding along to everything that Emma was saying. He never really was one for conversations on relationships; all too often his humourous nature would swing back around to bite him in the ass. Plus, it appeared that Emma was quick to respond anyway, negating the need for his input. Which he was all to happy to comply with.

"Dang, you guys kept us in the dark for almost a whole week?" Ernie scratched his head, "Huh, now that you've told us, I guess it was kinda there. I'm glad you trusted us with this. You two make a good pair! We're all in your corner here."

Ernie paused. Should he? Yeah, he should. It'd be good to get some Stigma clearing done before the mission. And... it wasn't like Christmas. She would be able to bounce back. It was just a silly crush. She barely even knew the guy, it had only been a week! It shouldn't affect the mission too much if he was there to fix what he broke.

Ernie turned to face her.

"Right... Cal?"

Roused from her thoughts, Callan looked up with a culpable frown. Realizing Ernie was asking her to agree with his previous statement, she laughed through her nose and smiled. "Yeah," she said simply, quickly filling her mouth with pancakes. Disappointment felt heavy in her chest as she tried not to think about it. About how happy she'd felt when Marcus waited up for her that night. Of course, she'd just been seeing things that weren't there all along.

Emma wasn't sure how to respond to that. She'd prefer if this wasn't some kind of big deal, for her sake and Marcus's. "Uhhh... thanks." she said, her embarrassment towards the topic evident.

While Marcus was bad with social cues, he did notice that the conversation seemed to be a little embarassing for Emma. He wasn't as concerned about it as she apparently was; a fact that gave him slight pause. Did she want this whole thing to have stayed a secret? Was she embarrassed to have gone on a date with him?

He shoved these thoughts to the back, convincing himself it was just because she was shy. That was a good reason for it, and one that didn't send him into a spiral of self-conciousness. There was the awkward silence to deal with, though...

"So does anybody remember who Lawrence is?" Marcus asked suddenly. "It'd be nice to get to know my team before we head out, but it's hard to do when you don't know the people."

Emma looked towards Marcus, face lighting up, glad for a change in topic. "Oh, Lawrence? I guess you haven't really been around my roomates as much as I've been around yours. Or at all, really. He's one of them... he'd probably be out walking Lizzy right now, at least I think he is. Uh, Lizzy is his dog." Emma said, vaguely remembering that Marcus didn't like dogs. Hopefully that wouldn't be a problem.

Well that was a problem.

"O-oh." Marcus stammered. His plan to meet his team had basically hinged on him finding the one name he actually recognized. Now, though...he certainly wasn't going to hunt down a guy and his dog - especially after what had happened Saturday.

"I guess first impressions can wait!" he said with a nervous chuckle, trying to bury his increasingly red face in his breakfast. Here he was, about to go after a Cat 3 with the rest of his classmates on a life-threatening mission, and he was being stonewalled by a dog. Some part of him was ashamed, but certainly not enough to overcome the phobia.

"C'mon man, what happened to the exotic dessert we all know and love?" Ernie teased, "I bought some vinegar the other day if you need some."

A pause.

"Actually, I should be trying to find my teammate too," Ernie muttered and quickly began typing on his phone.

The conversation moved on without her. Callan couldn't keep up. Couldn't focus. As Ernie pulled out his phone, she pretended to check her own. "Oh shoot," Callan grinned, sliding out of her seat, "I have to go do a thing." Avoiding all eye contact with the right side of the table, Callan shot Sander an apologetic glance as she gathered up her tray. She'd invited him to sit with them so they could potentially discuss strategies for the upcoming fight, but... well, there was still time. They could make plans later. With a curt wave, she carried her tray over to the trash and-- perhaps for the first time since her arrival at USARILN East-- scraped what was left of her food into the repository.

Emma's eyes followed Callan as she left. "Bye?" she said, trying to sound as polite as possible. But sounding polite was hard, given how blatant Callan's eagerness to leave was. 'I have to go do a thing' wasn't exactly a great excuse. Emma also took note of the fact that she didn't look at them as she left. She wasn't sure why Callan had made an escape, but it certainly did make her slightly suspicious. "Well, it looks like we all have people to find... I should probably talk to Hazel before we leave." Emma made no effort to hide her grimace, she wasn't exactly looking forward to talk to Hazel after capture the flag.

Ernie didn't need to look up to know that Cal was upset. As his phone pinged with a response from Angel, he grinned.

"Got a hot tip, courtesy of Angelique. Guess I'll see you guys on the bus later! Good luck with Hazel and the... dog."

He departed with a wave and a neatly arranged collection of food scraps on his tray.

As the conversations around him ebbed, Sander tore his gaze from the paper cup and looked up, having half a heart to just leave. But Callan had asked, and he was sticking around for her sake. However, the aquamarine-haired girl left quite suddenly afterward, barely an explanation as she did. Seeing as how he didn’t have any reason to stay, Sander finished his cold coffee in one gulp and rose to his feet –“I should get going too. See you later.” -With a nod and a half smile, he walked off, stopping only once to toss the empty cup in the trash.

Marcus gave Callan a cocked eyebrow and confused look as she walked off. She didn't usually seem that curt - his only other point of reference being back when she'd punched a hole through Kusari, and he'd upset her with a joke. Now, he watched her go away, and had to think about what had been done, and if it was his fault that she didn't seem happy. He eyed Emma once, confirming that he wasn't the only one who had noticed the odd behavior.

"I guess I'll...do something to kill the time then." He said, still sitting at the table as everyone walked off.

Emma turned to Marcus. ”Well, that was… weird.” she said, a slight frown on her face. ”Sorry to ditch you here, but I feel like if I don’t talk to Hazel things are gonna be kind of… weird. Y’know, after the whole capture the flag thing.” her smile was returning to her face, ”But I’m sure I’ll see you again before the battle, right?”

"Definitely, if I've got any say in the matter." Marcus said. The unfortunate part of his statement was that he might not have any say in the matter. The thought that this little breakfast of theirs could be the last time he saw some of these people hung slightly in his mind. It certainly wasn't how he wanted things to pan out, especially with that possibility.

"Alright, get out of here, you. Go make your friends, or slap her right across the head. Whatever makes you feel better." he added with a grin.

”Right…” she said wearily. She started to get up, but before leaving turned back to Marcus. ”Oh, yeah… if you’re still trying to decide if you want to track down Lawrence, Lizzy’s a good dog. If that makes any difference.” Emma gave him a sideways smile, ”And listen, if I don’t see you, just… don’t die. I’ll be mad at you if you do.” with that, she turned towards the exit.

It doesn't

"Thanks. That goes double for you - got it?" Marcus said, sighing softly to himself. They'd be fine. They had to be. With the setup they had - everything would be okay.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Not My Usual Alarm Clock

An Autobiography by Marcus Howell

---

For the first time in many nights, Marcus was actually sound asleep. Perhaps it was the training regime they’d been put through shaving off the excess energy he always seemed to have, or just an overall good week having helped to settle his constantly whirring mind; a few lunch dates with Emma, a class free week, and the relative peacefulness of his strolls around campus (barring a single occasion). Whatever the case, he was completely passed out by the time the guards arrived.

The sound of knocking woke him up from his slumber – while he had been sleeping well, he certainly wasn’t a heavy sleeper anymore. His groggy mind had mostly collected itself by the time they were traipsed down the hall; a splash of cold water having given him a little bit of a boost. He unconsciously smoothed down the jeans and t-shirt he’d accidentally fallen asleep in again, along with a fruitless attempt to calm his hair and a quick sigh to calm his nerves.

The walk there passed with uncharacteristic silence from Marcus, who still sleepy mind was preoccupied trying to figure out what was going on. It looked like everyone had been called out, and he caught Emma’s eyes in the crowd, her worried expression mirroring his own slight anxiety. Last time they’d been marched out like this had been the first day, a day that hadn’t gone over so well.

When they sat down and were being fed information, Marcus’s mind hurriedly went about its frantic mile-a-minute thinking. He was already sorting through the briefing, the relevant sections standing out in his head.

A significant threat. Had they been told what category the first day’s creatures had been? Not that he could remember. Still - an entire platoon of students for a single subnatural seemed like it was a bit overkill, but the target’s ability presented a unique situation. Teams. Callan was a Striker; a position that suited her, but didn’t help to ease his worries. Sander would also be there. Better at control? Siena and Emma, Support: actively putting themselves in danger trying to get the clockwork creatures to attack them. Christmas and Ernie were on the same team. Bad pairing. Hopefully Ernie had taken his advice. Not his problem, as long as the healer was protected.

A team for him: two names he didn’t recognize, and one that he did, but which lacked a face. Lawrence? He’d heard that name somewhere. Civilian help. A pseudo Evac Team, as he simplified in his head. A position where he’d hopefully not have to deal with combat at all. Back away from the actual fight, where he’d likely be the last to know if his friends were getting slaughtered.

It all made strategic sense, but that didn’t stop his fluttering heart.

They were given seven hours before deployment. He needed to find his roommates and Emma, make sure they were going to be okay. Find his team – see if anybody recognized Lawrence’s name. The group was starting to disperse. An umbrella for him. A quick gaze over the crowd to see if he could find the people he was looking for. Emma was walking towards him.

He thumbed over the tags beneath the fabric of his shirt. Breathing slowed. Frantic analyzation stopped.

Mask up.

“We’ve dealt with worse than a single huffy subnatural!” Marcus said. The words helped to calm his own heart – the rationalization finding root in his convictions. If he could say it so easily, then actually making himself believe it wasn’t much harder. “And that was when were split up against four different groups of DC’s boys, and we didn't have a strategy, AND we'd been here less than twelve hours. We’re all focusing on the one target, and they’ve got a pretty well thought out plan for us – so I think we’re going to be fine.

Hopefully

“You wanna grab breakfast?” The words came out casually, as if they weren’t about to go out on another life-threatening mission. “No use sitting around for seven hours psyching ourselves out – and you certainly don’t want to be out there on an empty stomach!” he said, forcing the hints of worry back behind his usual grin.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Marcus Upgrade Unlocked.

Marcus can now activate his powers twice before a 'cooldown' is required. The abilities can be chained together for rapid movement, but he must wait for one 'jump' to completely finish before entering into another one. Both powers are still on separate cooldowns.

CS Updated

Max's picture to Marcus has been added into his CS.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Marcus | Siena

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟘𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 / / 𝟚𝟚𝟛𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Chasers115@PapiTan}

It was later that night when Marcus excused himself from Suite 430. While he wasn’t too concerned about Siena and Callan eavesdropping, there were other reasons that he didn’t want to have his roommates privy to his conversation. Max was family, probably the closest he had anymore, and there were just some things that he wasn’t willing to talk about to anybody else. Questions he didn’t want to have to answer – and he wasn’t sure if he just wasn’t ready, or he was actively avoiding them.

He sat on one of the couches in the library, typing out a quick message on his phone:

Alright! Long night, but I’m free for a call now!

He sat there for a few moments, thinking, before mentally kicking himself in the head. He’d meant to ask Emma about drinks at dinner, but it had completely slipped his mind. Wouldn’t hurt to send out another message while he waited on Max.

So, I'm willing to bet you'd really be appreciating that drink right about now; got any place and any time that you prefer over any other?

…

Should he have mentioned who he was, just to be clear? Would it seem weird to text twice in a row? All he was doing was clarifying his identity, so it wouldn’t be super awkward? Right?

This is Marcus, by the way. The super not-smooth one. Just in case you have a million guys knocking down your door for drinks!

It had been an eventful day. Siena couldn't lie about that to herself, much less convince herself otherwise. She'd trailed after her roommate's exit shortly after, bringing her phone, the wallet containing her I.D., and the smallest of her e-readers, tucked safely away in one of the carefully stitched pockets of the beige coat that she'd decided was more comfortable and distinctly less smelly. Opting for a pair of flats that hadn't been dipped in sewage, the girl had settled in a spot of her own. Too tired and too overwhelmed to check the blog, but at the same time too occupied to do the smart thing and just sleep.

So she settled, flicking through the applications on her phone despite not having any reason to. Contacts, music, call history, then in reverse, then back.

The girl barely even realized her eyes flicking away from the screen whenever her "call history" came up.

It wasn’t too much longer before his phone started vibrating. The number on it was one he recognized, but he’d neglected to actually put a name to it in his haste to punch it in before something terrible happened to his only method of contacting Max.

“Howell residence, Marcus speaking!” He said, putting the phone up to his ear.

“Marc! What’s been going on you little dork? Gain super powers and suddenly you’re too good to talk to your big sister?” came the familiar female voice. Upbeat and cheerful, much like his own, with a slight firmness to it that would be expected from her background.

“Oh, you know, abducted by the government, put into a special little school facade, same old same old!”

“Oh yeah, business as usual, I bet. Alright you sarcastic little punk, serious talk: what happened since last time we talked?”

So, Marcus explained everything that had occurred over the last week or two, about the ride over, the little escapade that had happened upon arrival and his two roommates.

“Ooooh, little Markie’s stuck with two girls! Are they cute?”

“You can shut up right now, you hear?” came the reply, and although Max wouldn’t be able to see it, his face did flush slightly. He paused for a moment, as one of his aforementioned roommates came walking through the building with impeccable timing. Callan, with Sander in tow, shortly followed by Kusari. This was not a safe place for him.

“Hang on a second, an ass-kicking conga line just went past, and I’d like to move before it gains momentum.”

He stood up, zipped up his hoodie and strolled out the door. Callan and Sander stood in the courtyard, which meant that Marcus was going to walk in the opposite direction. Curiously – Kusari was nowhere in sight. Probably a good thing, considering the righteous beating he assumed was about to happen.

It was Marcus's voice that snapped her out of the mechanical daze that Siena had let herself settle into, a sidelong glance enough to tell her that he was on the phone. On the phone and she probably shouldn't be eavesdropping.

But didn't she want to know with whom?

It would have been easier to ignore the gnawing feeling in her gut if the procession of other students hadn't come and gone. If there wasn't a curiosity that started to burn hot enough to sear the edges of her usual rationality. Maybe just for a moment--just until she knew it wasn't something fishy! No...that was a poor excuse, but that didn't seem to matter to the bookworm as her feet took her after Marcus, ears straining to catch even the faintest traces of her roommate's conversation. Probably someone familiar with him? The thought buzzed faintly, like thin vibration that tried to make itself noticeable.

He continued telling Max about the week; the battle they’d been shipped out on the first day, the horror that had been Padma – a topic that brought only sullen silence from both of them – and the raw power some of the other kids had.

“See!? I knew that teaching you how to shoot was going to be a good idea! Bet you’re happy I gave you those lessons now, huh?”

“I was perfectly fine with the lessons when you gave them. Of course, you did bribe me…”

And finally, Marcus told her about the training game: How he’d been savagely beaten by Kusari, and dropped into sewage (accidentally!) by Siena.

“You know, I expected a little bit of sympathy from you!”

Nothing on the other end but stifled laughter. Why didn’t anybody show any compassion for the poor sewage lad?

“Well…” came the reply after a long pause and the sound of Max collecting herself. “…sounds like you’ve had quite the eventful few weeks!”

“More exciting than that shithole town of ours, that’s for sure.” Marcus said, a slight hint of sadness in his voice.

“You been feeling better, Marc?” There was no humor in this statement, just a slightly softer tone.

Marcus paused for a moment, trying to find the words. He certainly thought he felt better, but his inability to get a good night’s sleep, and the realization that he was still anxious around Siena’s dog had shaken that thought. Still…it was nice to have people around him again, a chance to socialize and get back onto his feet, supporting himself on the others that surrounded him.. He felt like he could count on Callan and Siena wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon – probably the reason he’d grown emotionally invested so quickly. They could certainly take care of themselves, but he still wanted to be able to help; just to make sure nothing would happen.

“Marc?”

“Yeah. I’m…I’m okay.”

Another long pause, before Marcus spoke up.

“But hey! What about you? Have you done anything interesting lately?”

'You shouldn't be here.' And she knew it was true. She shouldn't have followed as far as she had. It wasn't just how wrong it was to eavesdrop to begin with (it was, wasn't it?), but the feeling of a weight pushing in her gut. Of something dangerously close to pain as she caught the tones, if not the words.

He was probably talking to family, and the thought left a gaping burn in the pit of Siena's stomach when it gave way to comprehension.

She hadn't listened because she was curious, she had because she was desperate.

So Siena turned on her heel, less cautious about hiding her presence as she beelined her way back to the dorm, her mind suddenly catching fire from the flash of lightning, her hands buried deep into her pockets, slender fingers gripping her phone until the buttons were sure to leave deep grooves in her flesh.

“God no. DC isn’t interested in dog-fighting; at least not the ones we’ve been sent after. Hit the thing a couple times, make sure it stays down, and then we go back to the hangers! Been pretty quiet around here, at least.”

“Hey, no news is better than bad news, right?” he said after a moment. He'd thought for sure that he'd saw something out of the corner of his eye, but there was nothing when he turned to look at it. A trick of the breeze, he convinced himself.

“Yeah, whoever made up that phrase never had to listen to their copilot bitch about ‘wanting to see some action’ every time we go out.”

“Tell Sammie she needs to shut up before she jinxes you guys into biting off more than you can chew!”

“I’ll make sure to pass along the message! But, it’s getting to be late here and people are going to start complaining. It was good to hear from you again, snot! I expect weekly updates from now on!”

Marcus chuckled, turning around and heading back for the dorm. “Oh don’t worry, you’ll get more than that!”

A moment passed as they both laughed, before a thought crossed Marcus’s mind.

“Hey sis, can you do me a favor? Do you remember that picture we took at the beach?”

“Oh; you know I hate that picture!”

“Yeah, only because I actually look older than you in that one! I think it’s cute, so suck it up and send it to me, you pain in my backside!”

Pictures. The easiest way to store memories, and the little things that you didn’t want to forget about.

“Yeah, yeah. I can do that. Talk to you later, then?”

“Count on it!”

He lowered the phone from his ear and looked up at the sky. It was nice to talk about some of that stuff at least – made him feel better than he thought it would, at least. He missed Max, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it – he’d started to grow homesick. This little chat was enough to at least alleviate that problem, for the time being.

He looked down to his phone, realizing that he’d gotten a text message sometime during his conversation with Max:

Oh, hey Marcus. I sure do have tons of guys flooding me after a week in this hell hole, but I guess I can make time for you. /s

I haven’t really been into CC1, so I don’t really know any places… aaaaand I don’t really have anything going on, so I can go pretty much whenever…

Hell, wanna do tomorrow night? Gotta capitalize on those free in-between days they're giving us! I don't know anywhere on-site other than the cafe, unfortunately.

No sooner had he sent the message to Emma than his phone buzzed again. This time it was from Max: a single image attachment.

Little things that you didn’t want to forget about.

---

The room was empty, bar for the presence of Chief Tater Tot, when Siena returned, blood pulsing in her ears and her grip on her phone tight enough by then that she could feel her case trying to give way.

'Shouldn't have eavesdropped, stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid...!' But still she tore the phone from her pocket flicking through her cycle again. Contacts, call history, music, camera, then all the way back until she hit call history the third time around. All outgoing. Maya, Gerwulf, Maya, Gerwulf. Then four more to Gerwulf. She tapped the number to send another call to him, a sense of dread and trepidation washing over her as a faint static filled her ears, an now-familiar tone, and then...

"We're sorry, that number is no longer in service."

She tried three times more, as if trying to overwhelm that simple fact with effort was going to change anything. When the words taunted her the fourth time, Siena took a deep breath. It was fine. Gerwulf lost his number all the time, and Maya didn't even like to answer her phone. It was fine. Absolutely fine.

She whipped the phone across the room, only feeling a faint twinge of satisfaction when it crashed against the wall by her bed before falling out of sight.

'Temper, temper, Siena. You really shouldn't be taking names like that anymore...'

Chief Tater Tot gave another whine, this one piercing through the frustration and bringing the appropriate levels of guilt to the surface. Releasing a soft breath, the brunette knelt to pick the canine up. Soft and warm. "Sorry, Chief Tater Tot...I didn't mean to scare you." A whine and a small tongue that reminded her where she was. More real than disconnected numbers and radio silence.

Just as real as the exhaustion that was relentlessly trying to eat away at her.

"C'mon, Chief. Let's just go to bed."

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Marcus Howell

---

？？？ / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕦𝕤 / / ？？？

---

Marcus was having himself a lovely time. He’d been given a ball of yarn to play with and keep him out of trouble (chestnut colored of course, but he wasn’t complaining) and, for now, he was happily batting the thing back and forth, without a care in the world.

Then he got turned into a lynx, which was pretty weird.

When the guards burst into the room, he’d basically done the work of restraining for them. A lynx, tied up with chestnut threads, trying its damnedest to free itself without opposable thumbs. One of the guards laughed at the sight, before clearing his throat and trying to look as professional as he could given the circumstances. They didn’t even pack him into a carrier, they just lifted him like a small child and carried him out, much to his irritation.

---

It had taken a fair amount of time for Marcat…er…Marcus to get himself untangled, especially after he'd been unceremoniously dumped on the ground, still in a mess. When he did though, there stood the most triumphant looking lynx in a three mile radius. It was an interesting feeling to say the least; he was fast and agile now, a skill he tested by nimbly bounding through some of the ruins with an odd sense of glee.

Now though, he was hungry. Something in his mind stirred. He didn’t want the food laid out for him, he wanted to hunt. There was certainly enough prey around, but also a few predators he didn’t want to piss off; especially the few dogs that wandered around.

No! Those were his classmates! He didn’t want to eat his classmates!

But some of those birds did look delicious…and that little chinchilla he’d seen scurry off; that probably wouldn’t be too hard to track down.

Hey! Knock it off, brain! Stop it!

Maybe he’d try and find a nice sunny spot, instead. Somewhere up in one of the buildings, where the warmth collected just perfectly. Yeah: that sounded nice.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Marcus Howell

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥: 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝟚 / / ~𝟙𝟠𝟛𝟘

---

"Eyes up, folks! We're about to begin."

Marcus eagerly sat down in his chair, snacks and drinks at the ready. He felt like an excited little kid again, watching superheroes getting ready to dish out an amazing fight. He’d heard one of the guards mention demolition, which was kind of disappointing, but not surprising. Of course, when one of the healers started wrecking the place, Marcus snickered internally. Some of those ‘modifications’ were going to make this a tough fight. He watched with anticipation as the fighters all made their ways up to the top – Secret making it up significantly faster and easier, but Bruisers putting on a better show.

All the goodwill and excitement he had towards this fight pretty much dissipated instantly. The brutality, the destruction, the complete lack of control in most of these fighters; it honestly scared him a little bit. There was a good chance he’d be grouped up with some of these people in the future, and an equally good chance he’d come back from that sort of mission in a Tupperware container, based on what he was seeing on the screen.

His eyes flicked from Freddie to the screens as the events unfolded, listening intently to what bits of information he could get. It seemed like they hadn’t quite expected the teams to be this ruthless either. Guess he couldn’t be mad at them for overestimating the power of friendship.

Marcus stared at the screens, a million thoughts racing through his head, before the fight ended. To think he was complaining about Kusari taking it too far – after that show, he needed to apologize and thank her for showing restraint.

He looked around the room at the rest of his classmates while a guard handed a paper and pencil to him. He wanted to know that he wasn’t overreacting – that this was a brutal perversion of the ‘game’ they’d been sent to do.

He just wanted to know that this wasn’t what they expected. That he wasn’t naïve for thinking they needed to act better than the monsters they fought. The conversation he had with Callan flickered through his head:

…kind of figured we’d be able to do something like this without tearing each other apart like a bunch of feral animals.

He looked down at the paper he’d been handed. Suggested Improvements? Oh yeah, he had a couple suggestions.

General Thoughts:

What the actual shit was that? You guys managed to turn a game of capture the flag into an absolute mess that could have easily resulted in the death of everyone in that fight! These are your classmates! You know these guys, and yet you still tried to obliterate them. The fuck is wrong with you people?

Healer Dude: Maybe don’t go throwing huge chunks of porcelain at target you have not identified. That could have easily murdered someone – no real surprise they decided to break your legs after that.

Sports Bra: Maybe reign it in a little bit there. Try not to…you know… MELT YOUR CLASSMATE’S FACE FROM HIS SKULL.

Brett (Brent?): Cool move. Again: Classmate. I understand things had gone south quickly, but Christ man; trying to split someone’s skull open like that? Little bit ruthless, dude.

Ernie: You clocked a girl upside the head with a jagged piece of wood while she was restrained. Could have easily taken her flags (you know, the point of the game), but you decided to smash her face in. That’ll make you a lot of friends here at East.

Bangs: You did so many things wrong that I’m not even going to waste the time writing them down. When you get all of us slaughtered, make sure you get the bulk offer on coffins; you’ll save some money that way.

Everyone Else: Congratulations on not getting killed by your psycho teammates. Really not much I can say about strategy here because there was none; it was just a matter of not getting splattered across the kitchenware, which you somehow managed to do. You’ve proven that you can think on your feet and not end up a casualty when faced with numerous powerful threats. If I was in charge of the awards, I’d give it to you for actually keeping up with the goal of the ‘mission’, rather than trying to sate your bloodlust or whatever the hell happened here.

Suggested Improvements:

Control yourselves. It doesn’t matter how perfect your teammate’s moves are, or how flawlessly they execute the mission: Losing your goddamn minds like you did today will get them killed. People will die; your team will die. And from what I’ve seen today – I’m not too keen on getting teamed up with most of you.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Angélique and Marcus

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥: 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝟚 / / 𝟙𝟟𝟚𝟝

---

Angélique watched as everyone mingled with each other, her question left unanswered as everyone seemed to be discussing with each other. From one corner, Christmas and Lilianna were being drama queens about who would bear the burden of healing.

Such stupidity. If they weren't so stubborn about making themselves feel good about bearing the scar of being important, they'd realize Kusari could just take that small cut and heal herself in a matter of seconds.

On the other side, basically right next to her, a group had formed around a bed-ridden Siena, obviously all worried about her state. Had she not been so moody and analyzing what was happening around her, Angel would've been by her friend's side, worried about her. Instead, she was all alone, as if no one was caring about how the raven-haired Aberration was feeling.

You are simply a temporary ally to those people, a mere tool to achieve victory. You have defeated half of the opponents by yourself, and yet no one pay attention to your welfare. You deserve better, and those people don't deserve you.

Angélique remained silent, her head lowered as she brought her knees to her chest. She wanted to deny everything that she had been thinking, but part of herself envied Siena for being surrounded by friends, while Angel was left by herself. She tried so hard to make her team win; giving a few orders to her teammates before managing to defeat on her own both Chris in his Dragon form and the immortal Kusari. To be left out like this as she had woken up, it dealt a strike to both her pride and her feeling of camaraderie towards her teammates and her would-be friends.

With a depressed and bitter look on her face, Angel's eyes wandered to the monitors, showing highlights of the skirmish between the two teams as they viciously fought each other for the promise of not attending school for a week and to prove who was superior.

Oh; this was going to be interesting. Marcus stood a fair distance away from the little group that was awkwardly formed. He had to turn around and literally cup his mouth to prevent a laugh from escaping as Siena hand fed the boy a potato chip. This was the most awkward thing he'd ever seen - and one of the most hilarious if the tears that were threatening to roll down his eyes were any indication. Maybe he'd tell his roommate about the hand-feeding connotations later; it'd be the nice thing to do, right? Right?

The stirring of his own teammate distracted him, and he turned to where Angel had previous been sprawled out. He would have laughed at her completely askew appearance, were it not for the fact that; A. He didn't want to get shouted to death, and B. She'd basically been stomped by a dragon and then Kusari. At least, that was what he assumed happened.

"We managed to pull through and win!" Marcus said in response to her question. "One whole week of not attending shitty fake-classes. What a prize!" he added, scooting his chair a little bit closer to allow for adequate conversation.

"Yay~..." Angel sarcastically answered with a clear lack of enthusiasm

Was that really a victory? Still staring at the screen, the young woman paid close attention to all the details about the mishaps that had happened during the battle. Seeing Marcus being dealt bone crushing blows and dumped on filth, Grant removing Sander's clothing, the latter then running around naked with Christmas on his shoulder, herself being pushed around by a Dragon, Angélique felt bitter.

Watching as she bled out profusely to the point of fainting in the middle of the game, there could be no words to describe how pitiful she looked. Had it been a real battle, she would've already bled out to death out there like a dog, yet another corpse to add to the list of those who had already died and disappeared at USARILN East.

Again, was it really a victory? Perhaps, but it sure felt hollow somehow to her.

Marcus sighed inwardly. He had an idea of what she was feeling right now. Being dumped at the sidelines and basically left for dead; it wasn't a great situation to be in - rationalizing it was even harder. Sure, there was the extra benefit of this being a controlled situation, but once again - hard to rationalize it. In a real battle, they'd probably all be dead. But in a real battle, they would have naturally been more cautious.

A slight chuckle to himself. Now he was the one overthinking things.

"Couldn't have done it without you. Hell, you took down a freakin' dragon all by yourself!" he said, trying to add a little bit of positivity to the silence that hung heavy in the air. He watched the screens himself for a moment, pondering the sullen scene. "You want anything? They've been kind enough to provide snacks while we recover!" he finally said, nodding his head in the direction of the food table.

Angel was somewhat taken aback by Marcus’ sudden encouraging words and offer. Maybe, just maybe, she was wrong in accepting the fact that she was left for granted. Well at least not everyone in this room. But the bitterness of this whole situation pushed back Marcus’ kindness away and made the black-haired X-mark more focused on the negative aspects given.

“I’ve been careless… If this had been against a real dragon, I would’ve been dead. There’s no point of stunning a monster if there’s no one else to take it down. I was lucky that this was just a game.”

She paused, pondering over what this supposed game was about. This was meant to be a training exercise, to somehow simulate a battle situation. Yet somehow, everyone, herself included, were goaded into using their powers against each other to come out on top. This wasn’t a game. It was a lie, a makeshift excuse to evaluate how every students would fare against each other using their abilities.

Angel shook her head in response to Marcus’ offer. “Kindness my ass...” She didn’t feel like eating anything, especially if it was offered by the dickheads who organized this game in the first place.

"That's a fair point you got there." Marcus said, chewing and swallowing another bite of cookie. "You would have certainly been dead if this had been against a real dragon. But I'd like to think that against a real dragon, we'd be better prepared, maybe have some actual weapons, not be restricted to non-lethal." he said, his words echoing the argument his brain had just made.

"There's absolutely no reason to compare this to actual combat. In real combat, we wouldn't be trying to snatch flags, or dividing ourselves without backup." he said, counting off his points on his finger. "You're beating yourself up comparing apples and oranges; I can tell you you're not going to become a very successful orchid manager like that." he said, grinning.

"And hey, I've sampled the snacks. I'm pretty sure they're not poisoned. Sixty-five percent sure, at least."

Angélique remained silent, slowly processing everything his teammate we telling her. Maybe he was right, and she was wrong. Maybe she was overthinking things. Maybe she was trying too much to prove her capabilities to everyone else, prove that she can lead a team, and prove that she had the strength to back up her allies if not take out her opponents by herself.

But still, wounds had been made, trust and friendship had been put to the test in this game. Had this game been beneficial at all to everyone? Something had changed inside Angélique back there. She could not tell what it was exactly, but it felt dark and spoiled. She was in no mind to laugh at Marcus attempts to crack a few jokes, wondering if the guy was too optimistic for his own good, or simply if she was the one with a stick shoved too deep up her ass.

"Maybe..." Angel was unsure what to answer. Marcus' words had begun to spread doubts into her own thoughts, slowly cracking that wall of negativity that was plaguing her. What was the point of keeping up that angsty face at the boy who obviously tried to cheer her up?

"You sure you don't want anything? This is the closest you're gonna get to room service!" Marcus said, pressing the attack. Angel seemed to have at least lightened up a little bit. Now was time to either bring in full around, or annoy the piss out of her. Either option fit well for him, really.

"I promise I'll only lightly chuck snacks at your head, and I promise I'm clean; despite what the monitors would have you believe." he added.

"No... I'm okay." Angel repeated, only that this time, a faint crack of a smile formed onto her lips. She stood silent for a moment, her gazing returning back to the monitors. "Thank you..." for cheering me up she trailed off, the remaining of her statement however remaining buried within her mind.

There we go. A faint smile across the face. That was the kind of thing he liked to see.

The world had ended, everything had gone to shit. Most of the people that they knew were probably dead. Less than a week ago, two of their peers had gotten slaughtered. Yet, they were able to sit here and at least smile. He of all people understood the value of that - if people sat around and moped, they'd dig so far into their own self pity that they'd never be able to come back. Morale mattered now, more than ever. If that was a job he had to take, then he was gonna do the best he could, dammit.

"Anytime. Fist-pump pals gotta stick together!" he said, grinning.

Fist-pump pals? What might he be referencing to? As Angel searched through her memories, she suddenly remembered about that night, a few days ago, when they were brought onto their first battlefield, on the very first day they had arrived at USARILN. She could remember now when everyone got out of the trucks and were divided into their own respective teams to take out separate groupings of monsters, Angel had raised her fist to the sky as she yelled to the other teams to come back alive. The only one who had acknowledged and returned that sign was in fact the scarred young man speaking with her right now.

Her faint smile slowly grew into a faint grin of her own at the sudden realization.

"Yeah... this whole class need to." Angélique added to Marcus' statement, her sense of unity slowly returning to her.

"They'll come around." Marcus said, starting to turn his chair back to the screens. "I'll let you rest; I imagine being The Fearsome Dragon-Slayer; Rescuer of Princesses and Random Articles of Clothing takes a bit out of you." he said, giving her one last smile and turning back to the show.

Angélique nodded before chuckling at the titles given to her by her teammate, until she heard the last one and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Wait... what do you mean Random Articles of Clothing? You've got something to say against my wardrobe?"

"What?" Marcus said, stopped in his tracks by Angel's final line of questioning. "Nono!" he said, shaking his head defensively. "T-the dragon-kid's clothes! Because he had to strip. And I assumed you grabbed them after you fought! I've got nothing against your wardrobe! I imagine it's quite stylish - especially when it's not full of holes and covered in blood!"

Marcus stammered his way through an apology, not quite sure if it counted as a save or not.

"Oh... I see. I'm sorry, I guess I have misunderstood you. No, in fact I just took off... well... ripped the flags off his clothes." Angel replied, giggling nervously. She must've looked like an idiot to him now. "Guess no matter how much time I have spent outside my community, I still have much to learn about English and your sayings." she tried to explain, hoping her ignorance would make her sound less stupid.

"Ehhhh, simple mistake! No worries!" Marcus said, letting out a small breath, and giving a dismissive hand wave. Little things like that happened all the time - no point in getting all worked up about it. Still, he mentally kicked himself - he was legitimately worried for a moment that Angel was about to blow up on him. All this talk about community and teamwork was going to get destroyed if he got all scared just because she had a different mark on her than he did. Teammates, friends, no matter the little tattoos they'd been given.

Seemed like Marcus took it well. Good. The screamer Mage didn't want to have any sort of misunderstanding or animosity with the only guy that had bothered to check up on her after this grueling game. Angel nodded and rested her back against the wall behind her, legs crossed and hands resting behind her head. It would seem like the next match was about to begin soon, and Angel's eyes turned towards the monitors, intending to analyze the two other teams as much as she could.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Marcus | Sander | Callan Webb | Christopher Francis | Kusari Bloodworth

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠 / / 𝟙𝟟𝟙𝟝

---

_{Collab with @Chasers115 @RedDusk @Baklava @dragonmancer @Piercing Light}

Marcus allowed himself to be led back to the rest of the group, arriving just in time to see one of the kids stab himself in the arm. He stood in the doorway for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should actually step in, before a sharp shove from behind informed him that he was, in fact, in the right place at the right time.

The kid’s blood vaporized, spreading throughout the room like some weird fog, but Marcus could feel the bones in his arm knit back together as he breathed it in. There was a little bit of a sickening sound; the sound of bone grinding against bone as it forcibly moved into place to set correctly, but by the time it was done, his arm felt fine. He gave it a few test bends to make sure, humming in surprise.

He avoided crowding the miraculous healing boy, instead grabbing a seat and a drink and looking over some of the monitors. There were some scenes that he’d caught out of the corner of his eye; Angel vs Chris and Callan vs Sander, and there was the little matchup between him and Kusari.

And then there was something else. A screen which caused Marcus to nearly spit his drink. He looked at the screen for a few moments, before turning to the offended party incredulously.

SANDER

Grabbing a pretzel off the table and carefully aiming it, he winged the snack at Sander's head, guesturing at the screen when the boy inevitably glared at him. The screen which currently showed Sander, nekkid as the day he was born (plus shoes), facing off against his roommate.

"Hey Count Chocula - what the actual SHIT am I looking at, here?"

The food item bounced harmlessly off Sander’s forehead, but the impact was enough to nudge the dozing boy awake. His eyes blinked open to a very enraged Marcus, and he just stared on for a few moments in utter confusion, before following the scarred boy’s hand to a nearby monitor. It showed his encounter with Siena, and he narrowed his eyes as he searched his memory for a reason for Marcus’ rage. Did he hurt the girl in anyway? Not that he could recall.

Oh. The upper cut to the chin. But was that even him? His eyes flitted nervously between Marcus and Siena’s form in the corner.

“I’m sorry.”- He stood up from his seat, the damp towel falling off his shoulders as he did –“Did I break anything?”

"Besides her fragile maiden's heart? Hard to tell. WHY ARE YOU NAKED IN THIS MONITOR?" Marcus said, his tone changing from rage to an angry confusion. His eyes also flitted to where she lie unconscious. He didn't know how she got to that state, but since she didn't appear to have any obvious marks on her, and since he hadn't seen anything to indicate brutality on the monitors, he wasn't upset about that.

“Oh.”- Sander mumbled simply, seemingly noticed his indecency just now. That was not appropriate, of course, to be fighting naked. He had forgot that –“I’m sorry. I just—Someone took my clothes.”

"I...huhwha-?" Marcus said, all of the steam immeditely rushing out of his one-sided argument and leaving him there, speechless, absolutely dumbfounded.

"Somebody...took...your clothes." he said, repeating the sentence a couple more times to himself.

“Y-Yeah. Someone took my clothes.”-Sander ran fingers through his hair once, then resumed gripping his upper arms. Don’t. He turned his gaze toward Siena again, his mind kept playing the feather-light touch of flesh on repeat. Once invoked, his guilt was…persistent. At the corner of his vision, he could catch glimpses of a monitor playing the footage of him slamming his fist again and again on Callan’s face. He chose to look away.

Marcus sighed to himself. One long breath as he placed his palm against his forehead and shook his head back and forth. Someone had taken his clothes; what was so hard to understand about that? He sat for a moment, lost in thought, trying to find the right words to say, before he looked back at Sander. This time when he spoke, it was cool and collected.

"Alright. Sander. Buddy. Someone took your clothes. I can understand that I guess. But let's consider one thing here: She's one of my roommates. I would very much like to keep both of my roommates in one piece - kind of my peroggative at this point." he said, listing off every fact. Hell, at this point Callan and Siena were his closest friends, and well on their ways to becoming the closest thing to family he had here. As such, they fell within the 'little brother futily try and protect' range. The 'big tough sibling defense team' was not something he was super used to. Max had never really needed his help, much the opposite usually, but he felt the need to at least stand up for his roommates, even though he was positive Callan wouldn't need it.

"Today you've flashed your goods at one, and chomped into the other like a goddamn Slim-Jim. I don't even know how that happened - like, were you trying to grab her flags with your teeth? But that's not the point. Is there any chance we can maybe, not do those things in the future?" he said, resuming his palm to its position on his face.

Callan's pity party for her lost dignity was interrupted by a familiar voice's elevated shouting near the back corner. Something about someone being naked on the monitor. Oh, God. Peeking through the crevice formed by her arm again, she listened to the exchange, wide-eyed and utterly mortified.

Sander stayed silent in the face of Marcus’ accusations, but that was what he always did, really –“I’m sorry.”-He said again, as if repetition would give the words meaning. Yet, he made no promises –“Yeah. I will…do the best that I can.”

Chris looked up from his book, just as he had gotten comfortable, there was a commotion of who he could hear that troublesome vampire and that Marcus character. Normally he had no interest in the matter, but with such a commotion going on of his former opponents, Chris had felt some obligation. Having set his book down by Siena's bedside, he had stood upright and adjusted his winter jacket. After he let out an audible sigh Chris approached the two conversing students. "Hey." His tone was a bit grumpy, but mostly calm. However within a short pause he had given a short glare at Sander. The stare however was broken with another sigh. "You fought well Sander, I saw the camera angles too. Just....keep your clothes on next time."

Sander turned sharply when he recognized the second voice, his body tensed –“Uh…Yeah.”-He mumbled at Chris’ comment, the tension never left his shoulder –“I’ll try.”

Marcus sighed again, turning his attention back to the screens and muttering something about "...just took his clothes. Obviously" to himself. There was no point in pushing the issue anymore; what had happened was done, and Callan was a big girl and could take care of herself if Sander chomped her again. And Siena...Siena could probably handle him if things went poorly too, depending on what name she took. Hell, he was probably the only one who couldn't do anything about Sander.

"Stop lying." Kusari suddenly spoke up, having been quiet since she came back to the room. While Marcus confronted Sander, she was watching the screens. She turned her eyes to Sander, her face rife with disgust. "You bit Callan. And you weren't even trying to take her flags. What part of pounding on her face fit into this test's objectives? You know you'll do it again too, don't you?." Kusari pinched the bridge of her noise, and let out a heated breath. "At this point I can't even be mad at you. These idiots don't seem to care that you have next to no control over yourself." She took a seat and munched on a cookie in annoyance. She could go on, but she didn't see the point.

Sandet let out a faint breath, his fingers twitched, but he kept the white knuckled grip on his arms –“Yeah,”-Once again, he didn’t offer any resistance to the accusations. Because really, what could he say to the truth? He, of all people, knew who he was, and he held no illusion about the world they lived in. These people didn’t care if he could lose control. In fact, they preferred it that way. Zhang told him as much; they didn’t want him, they wanted the monster. All he could really do was making sure it wouldn’t be all he was –“I’m trying, Kusari.”

Kusari took another cookie, and bit into it. "Uh huh.." She simply responded.

Sander simply let his gaze lingered on his roommate for a few more brief seconds, before sitting back down. Only then did he notice the mound of blanket in front of him. He took a moment to give Christmas an appreciative nod, then leaned on the blanket pile, once again drifting among his thoughts.

Relieved to see things hadn't escalated, Callan relaxed and looked away. Had the conversation not ended as quickly as it did, she knew she would've had to get involved. Kusari's remarks alone almost had her out of her seat. She didn't like people fighting her battles for her. She could handle things herself-- now more than ever. Additionally, most people who tried, no matter how well-meaning, had the nasty habit of assuming she was more upset about things than she really was. In Sander's case, however, she sensed there was something else going on. Coupled with Kusari's biting tone, she mulled over the words in her mind. 'No control'....

Lily's head was still filled with thoughts of crammed beds and small spaces when the voices around her snapped her out of it. Their words barely registered to her but she looked from Marcus to Sander anyway, wondering what had happened to all of them. She finally glanced over to the monitors, something probably only she could overlook and blinked at the images there. The little game they played was apparently more brutal than she could ever imagine. While she had been ecstatic about Siena's teleporting abilities... Siena! she thought happily as she looked around, trying to find where the brown haired girl was. When her eyes fell on her unconscious form, she frowned. What happened to her?

Before she could go to Siena, Chris' last few words distracted her. Keep your clothes on next time? Did anyone strip during the game? Her head whipped back to the monitors and saw exactly what Chris meant. She averted her gaze from the monitor and looked towards Sander again. Did he need to get naked for his powers to work? She would have asked him then and there but their voices didn't exactly sound welcoming. Or should she still ask? As she thought about that, her mind once again shifted gears, turning its attention back to the other healer. Her eyes sought him out. As soon as she located Christmas, she stood up and made her way towards him.

Without having anything else to say, Chris left the group and returned to the seat by Siena's bedside. He had picked up his book to continue reading the next paragraph he left off on.