Member
CabbageAngel
Antlers
Eddie Brock
AuthorialTheory
AmongHeroes
Kefka Palazzo
Exit
Mjolnir
Lunamaria Hawke
Altered Tundra
The perception of a predator was all consuming; eerily compounded and compacted within sensory, vibrating oculi that shimmered and pinged, pupils that collided against seas of steelish azure that flexed, then hardened, immediately honing in on the target with all intentions befitting manic esurience. Those of a carnivorous candor, of various intricacies - emotional, psychological, physical - oft bred a series of expressions and performances of persecution. Carmen was of such exhibition, with parted corals, petals that, much like flora, concealed the thorns beneath that wept poison by tongue and words and literal horrors of blackened taint. Her searching qualms stilled, quieted and she carefully angled her posture to reflect the process of words that filtered across a gyrating mind of golden fangs and sapphires exteriors of adamant defenses, then, she inhaled.
She recognized the scent from those she had filtered and processed earlier, but concentrating carefully upon his unique palette bid feathering swells of blackened malice, charred and deadened with a cloak of savagery and deception like tar that sluiced across the breadth of her orifice with the sluggishness of a festering disease. Beneath, however, was an all too known frailty that all mortals possessed, but Carmen recognized the embellishments of an alpha complexity, the power laden within soul and bone calling and bidding that tasted of peculiar greens, like tainted beds where bodies were lain to rest. She decides, then, that this smell - this man - is a near competitor for the champion taste, not quite a favourite, she muses, but close enough.
She likes him already.
Carmen's simper was a device of manipulative wonder bathed in seduction, the sort that foretold ill promises and destiny - not fate - that bespoke the intention to covet and reap all for her own pleasure and benefits. The obligated introductions droned outward, bleeding into the monotonous backdrop of her consensus, the intensity and severity of a seemingly harmless custom wreathing those whom were knowledgeable of her, at the very least, in barbed wired vices of quarreling worry and objections to someone offering their hand to her. Carmen raked and prowled her gaze from his proffered attempt, upward along an extended limb and finally towards his countenance and eyes where mischief banked and glimmered and beckoned to stalwart blues of cemented ice.
"Nicholaus," she rolled his name through her mouth, letting it slide over the course of her tongue and flickering across her teeth that ached profoundly. She likes the taste of it, she decides, and carefully plucks the ebon cloth from her fingers, shedding her gloves in favour of flesh on flesh contact, her digits poised carefully - despite their flinching presentiment - and laces her palm onto his. Grip firm, formal, and it's all she can do to contain the sudden compulsion to jerk him forward and bank her teeth somewhere and conform her figure to his own, flush and wed and writhing. Within, her soul sparks with a tremendous wealth of subjugation, the sort that begets domination and dictating power that surrenders the male before her beneath her stiletto boot. Carmen's grip tightens just so, a reflection of her trembling innards before she dispels the contact, smile implanted and eyes never leaving the cape of his own.
"A pleasure," she rejoins with genuine aplomb, the sort of refinement that defects to her accented infliction, the Baanga uplift of her origins coating her voice in tinkling grace. "Can't say I share the same knowledge of rumour, though. But, I believe it'll be nice to have you around more so." Carmen carefully pours into her gloves with a thrust, flexing her gestures outward, each digit curling inward as if mimicking the unique conformity of her weaponry - curiously absent from her current presentation. She angles her head carefully on the ending catches of hospitality as everyone spells and shares their particular sets of performance and skill, her lips curled at that, it's hard to detail and inform those of her own reaping and power, and she lacks the proper initiative to even care about the rationing of capabilities.
Besides, there's food. And she's even more ravenous than before.
Carmen eagerly braces her palm to the table, the wood protesting only a moment as she reaches for her share, the bestial and barbaric nature of her consumption eerily reminiscent of a rapacious creature as her felidae teeth tear through the venison and she chews with a soft sigh that capers into a grouse of fulfillment.
However, there's always that one universal law, never thwart the predator from her prey, and within the midst of chewing, a baritone of grating distaste and inflection immediately plowed through her enjoyment. Carmen's teeth perched on the remains of venison, her eyes narrowing within displeasure at his basis. She did not care to confront or dispel his assumptions, but the poise of voice and his timbre sired a rising within her breast, the creature prowling betwixt her natures immediately roaring in defiance. She liked the former man, the one who dared to touch her, but this man, the one that reeked of white hot heat and conflagrations of simmering retribution, she thinks she dislikes him more than the old goat that oft challenges her command.
"You're right," Carmen bites out, teeth digging into the remains of her meal. "I don't care." She swallows, tongue swiveling to catch the remaining touches of meat from her fingers, swiping yonder her lips before retreating into her orifice with a hiss. "They're of no use to me, but -" She pauses, leans forward, smile splitting and crinkling. "Least you're knowledgeable of your place beneath me, SOLDIER. That's the only importance here." Referring to his bitterly snaked out calling of her title, she muses and inhales, preparing for another bit of venison until a sudden siren wails, the sharp calls fanning outward and carried on the tundra winds. Carmen's entire body goes rigid as Keepers pour into the tent, immediately disturbing any further introductions waiting as the siren continues to cry until it dies off with the last of winds carrying it outward to any who might've gone unaware of the sudden disturbance.
"We've received a intercepted transmission," one the Keepers begins, the others fanning outward, stationing within a line that surrounds the entire table of SOLDIERS, like corralling animals within. "Archadia has ordered a sudden increase within their border security. Our allotted window of infiltration has been shortened drastically. You must leave tonight, otherwise there will be a full out war on the borders and the chance that we lose the Weapon too high to risk such an affront."
The table was cleared, food and beverages removed without ceremony - much to Carmen's sudden snarl - and a collection of documents were sprawled, official gatherings of their profiles and a projection of a map suddenly illuminating to life, highlighting everything within azure glows and pale glimmers. The illuminated trajectory summoned attention as those of the target stratagem and procedure theory began a sudden and hasty debriefing.
"The Shyps will hover near the shore, where you'll be required to drop down and swim the rest of the way up, to avoid security seeing the Shyps, we'll use the blanket of the tundra winds and snow to remain hidden, but we can only get so close."
One of the Keepers thumbed to their files, the sudden puncture of sound causing Carmen to quiver as certain profiles were spread aloft, being separated into two gatherings.
"We've deliberated over your files and have determined that the best course of action would be a troupe designed purposely for distraction, and one for infiltration. The distraction group will draw attention towards them and away from those that will sneak in through a gap in the force, the sudden action will hopefully disturb the tightening of security so you're able to gather into Faelan without trouble. Once the infiltration group has secured a certain point within Archadia, a signal will be provided by the critical explosion of a flash bomb so the distraction team can pull away."
"The point is to avoid unnecessary..." A pause, a gaze scouring over every individual, landing and falling on particular individuals within question, those that occupied profiles with particular warnings and sported caution to their induction. "Death."
"The point is to meet somewhere outside Faelan and enter through Ground Zero to find the Weapon and deliver remains to Nibelheim. Further instruction will be given once the recovery has been completed. Secure a route within Archadia, and a contingent will follow through once the Grounds have been secured."
The profiles were immediately slid open, and names were called forth with each sheaf and slide of the documents, where sequences of numbers began to filter out with their given appellations and titles.
"The infiltration group will be led by Corbyn Vesper and the distraction team will be led by Carmen Auset." Another siren pealed through the airs, immediately siring tension through the SOLDIERS with lingering grasps of excitement tinged with airs of sudden hunger and power.
"Another intercepted transmission!" A youth called forth, peering into the tent with eyes wide, mouth a pale line slashed across his features. "A selected infantry is being deployed to the borders as we speak, if we're going to make it, they need to leave now!"
Carmen's eyes reeled, glimmering within harsh azure that shimmered outward in near purity, the white borders of her oculi illuminating the power lain within herself, where the King bayed wildly in excitement within for the champion call of the sirens that finally died off, lost to the sudden mistral of snow and ice. The maps, documents, and scattering of official gatherings were immediately cleared, the Keepers passing outward until the one who had produced the most information and briefing had spoke, gesturing outward and summoning haste into their departure.
"We board now, SOLDIERS. We've no time to waste."
The Shyp designed for their deployment was located farther from the encampment, a separate military grade transport from the one that had delivered the contingent of SOLDIERS previously. This one had been lying within wait, ultimately prepared to be utilized by the Govern forces for this specific retrieval. Carmen approached the awaiting behemoth of machinery with her proper weaponry within place, the uniformed claws of her footwear and gauntlets polished with near manic impression, glimmering within tundra snow and illuminated by the lights surrounding the Shyp being prepped for travel. The amount of rays nearly eclipsed and banished the night, harsh ambers in feathering yellows. Such would be required, as the risk of flying within the tundra would ultimately prove deadly without their assistance aglow. When the entrance plopped down, exposing the thick innards of the yawning Shyp, spacious and rigged with weaponry; armed to the teeth and ultimately prepared for any allotted scenario and potential outcome of their sanctioned invasion, Carmen's laughter barked forth, tempting and frantic.
She refused to falter, her clawed palms braced to her hips, feet twisting within the snow, as she tossed her gaze yonder her festooned shoulder, the warped metal of her armour providing a temporary barrier as she awaited the rest of the SOLDIERS to follow, weapons at the ready, their hearts eager within the right place. Or so, she hoped for, as the provided individuals to her selected troupe were not the ones she desired most, though her favourite was among them - what a treat that was - but the whelp and the man who created whorls of rage and defiance was with her, and the mere thought of him under her command was both a twisted reap of pleasure, and a demented conclusion of circumstance.
No matter, she thought swiftly and immediately ascended onto the Shyp, her bladed weaponry creating a musical ping across the ramp. Her writhing hunger and need was currently abated, she could afford them moments of luxury, no matter how fleeting it would be.
A B O A R D. . .T H E. . .S H Y P / / T H E. . . C A N A L.
She recognized the scent from those she had filtered and processed earlier, but concentrating carefully upon his unique palette bid feathering swells of blackened malice, charred and deadened with a cloak of savagery and deception like tar that sluiced across the breadth of her orifice with the sluggishness of a festering disease. Beneath, however, was an all too known frailty that all mortals possessed, but Carmen recognized the embellishments of an alpha complexity, the power laden within soul and bone calling and bidding that tasted of peculiar greens, like tainted beds where bodies were lain to rest. She decides, then, that this smell - this man - is a near competitor for the champion taste, not quite a favourite, she muses, but close enough.
She likes him already.
Carmen's simper was a device of manipulative wonder bathed in seduction, the sort that foretold ill promises and destiny - not fate - that bespoke the intention to covet and reap all for her own pleasure and benefits. The obligated introductions droned outward, bleeding into the monotonous backdrop of her consensus, the intensity and severity of a seemingly harmless custom wreathing those whom were knowledgeable of her, at the very least, in barbed wired vices of quarreling worry and objections to someone offering their hand to her. Carmen raked and prowled her gaze from his proffered attempt, upward along an extended limb and finally towards his countenance and eyes where mischief banked and glimmered and beckoned to stalwart blues of cemented ice.
"Nicholaus," she rolled his name through her mouth, letting it slide over the course of her tongue and flickering across her teeth that ached profoundly. She likes the taste of it, she decides, and carefully plucks the ebon cloth from her fingers, shedding her gloves in favour of flesh on flesh contact, her digits poised carefully - despite their flinching presentiment - and laces her palm onto his. Grip firm, formal, and it's all she can do to contain the sudden compulsion to jerk him forward and bank her teeth somewhere and conform her figure to his own, flush and wed and writhing. Within, her soul sparks with a tremendous wealth of subjugation, the sort that begets domination and dictating power that surrenders the male before her beneath her stiletto boot. Carmen's grip tightens just so, a reflection of her trembling innards before she dispels the contact, smile implanted and eyes never leaving the cape of his own.
"A pleasure," she rejoins with genuine aplomb, the sort of refinement that defects to her accented infliction, the Baanga uplift of her origins coating her voice in tinkling grace. "Can't say I share the same knowledge of rumour, though. But, I believe it'll be nice to have you around more so." Carmen carefully pours into her gloves with a thrust, flexing her gestures outward, each digit curling inward as if mimicking the unique conformity of her weaponry - curiously absent from her current presentation. She angles her head carefully on the ending catches of hospitality as everyone spells and shares their particular sets of performance and skill, her lips curled at that, it's hard to detail and inform those of her own reaping and power, and she lacks the proper initiative to even care about the rationing of capabilities.
Besides, there's food. And she's even more ravenous than before.
Carmen eagerly braces her palm to the table, the wood protesting only a moment as she reaches for her share, the bestial and barbaric nature of her consumption eerily reminiscent of a rapacious creature as her felidae teeth tear through the venison and she chews with a soft sigh that capers into a grouse of fulfillment.
However, there's always that one universal law, never thwart the predator from her prey, and within the midst of chewing, a baritone of grating distaste and inflection immediately plowed through her enjoyment. Carmen's teeth perched on the remains of venison, her eyes narrowing within displeasure at his basis. She did not care to confront or dispel his assumptions, but the poise of voice and his timbre sired a rising within her breast, the creature prowling betwixt her natures immediately roaring in defiance. She liked the former man, the one who dared to touch her, but this man, the one that reeked of white hot heat and conflagrations of simmering retribution, she thinks she dislikes him more than the old goat that oft challenges her command.
"You're right," Carmen bites out, teeth digging into the remains of her meal. "I don't care." She swallows, tongue swiveling to catch the remaining touches of meat from her fingers, swiping yonder her lips before retreating into her orifice with a hiss. "They're of no use to me, but -" She pauses, leans forward, smile splitting and crinkling. "Least you're knowledgeable of your place beneath me, SOLDIER. That's the only importance here." Referring to his bitterly snaked out calling of her title, she muses and inhales, preparing for another bit of venison until a sudden siren wails, the sharp calls fanning outward and carried on the tundra winds. Carmen's entire body goes rigid as Keepers pour into the tent, immediately disturbing any further introductions waiting as the siren continues to cry until it dies off with the last of winds carrying it outward to any who might've gone unaware of the sudden disturbance.
"We've received a intercepted transmission," one the Keepers begins, the others fanning outward, stationing within a line that surrounds the entire table of SOLDIERS, like corralling animals within. "Archadia has ordered a sudden increase within their border security. Our allotted window of infiltration has been shortened drastically. You must leave tonight, otherwise there will be a full out war on the borders and the chance that we lose the Weapon too high to risk such an affront."
The table was cleared, food and beverages removed without ceremony - much to Carmen's sudden snarl - and a collection of documents were sprawled, official gatherings of their profiles and a projection of a map suddenly illuminating to life, highlighting everything within azure glows and pale glimmers. The illuminated trajectory summoned attention as those of the target stratagem and procedure theory began a sudden and hasty debriefing.
"The Shyps will hover near the shore, where you'll be required to drop down and swim the rest of the way up, to avoid security seeing the Shyps, we'll use the blanket of the tundra winds and snow to remain hidden, but we can only get so close."
One of the Keepers thumbed to their files, the sudden puncture of sound causing Carmen to quiver as certain profiles were spread aloft, being separated into two gatherings.
"We've deliberated over your files and have determined that the best course of action would be a troupe designed purposely for distraction, and one for infiltration. The distraction group will draw attention towards them and away from those that will sneak in through a gap in the force, the sudden action will hopefully disturb the tightening of security so you're able to gather into Faelan without trouble. Once the infiltration group has secured a certain point within Archadia, a signal will be provided by the critical explosion of a flash bomb so the distraction team can pull away."
"The point is to avoid unnecessary..." A pause, a gaze scouring over every individual, landing and falling on particular individuals within question, those that occupied profiles with particular warnings and sported caution to their induction. "Death."
"The point is to meet somewhere outside Faelan and enter through Ground Zero to find the Weapon and deliver remains to Nibelheim. Further instruction will be given once the recovery has been completed. Secure a route within Archadia, and a contingent will follow through once the Grounds have been secured."
The profiles were immediately slid open, and names were called forth with each sheaf and slide of the documents, where sequences of numbers began to filter out with their given appellations and titles.
"The infiltration group will be led by Corbyn Vesper and the distraction team will be led by Carmen Auset." Another siren pealed through the airs, immediately siring tension through the SOLDIERS with lingering grasps of excitement tinged with airs of sudden hunger and power.
"Another intercepted transmission!" A youth called forth, peering into the tent with eyes wide, mouth a pale line slashed across his features. "A selected infantry is being deployed to the borders as we speak, if we're going to make it, they need to leave now!"
Carmen's eyes reeled, glimmering within harsh azure that shimmered outward in near purity, the white borders of her oculi illuminating the power lain within herself, where the King bayed wildly in excitement within for the champion call of the sirens that finally died off, lost to the sudden mistral of snow and ice. The maps, documents, and scattering of official gatherings were immediately cleared, the Keepers passing outward until the one who had produced the most information and briefing had spoke, gesturing outward and summoning haste into their departure.
"We board now, SOLDIERS. We've no time to waste."
The Shyp designed for their deployment was located farther from the encampment, a separate military grade transport from the one that had delivered the contingent of SOLDIERS previously. This one had been lying within wait, ultimately prepared to be utilized by the Govern forces for this specific retrieval. Carmen approached the awaiting behemoth of machinery with her proper weaponry within place, the uniformed claws of her footwear and gauntlets polished with near manic impression, glimmering within tundra snow and illuminated by the lights surrounding the Shyp being prepped for travel. The amount of rays nearly eclipsed and banished the night, harsh ambers in feathering yellows. Such would be required, as the risk of flying within the tundra would ultimately prove deadly without their assistance aglow. When the entrance plopped down, exposing the thick innards of the yawning Shyp, spacious and rigged with weaponry; armed to the teeth and ultimately prepared for any allotted scenario and potential outcome of their sanctioned invasion, Carmen's laughter barked forth, tempting and frantic.
She refused to falter, her clawed palms braced to her hips, feet twisting within the snow, as she tossed her gaze yonder her festooned shoulder, the warped metal of her armour providing a temporary barrier as she awaited the rest of the SOLDIERS to follow, weapons at the ready, their hearts eager within the right place. Or so, she hoped for, as the provided individuals to her selected troupe were not the ones she desired most, though her favourite was among them - what a treat that was - but the whelp and the man who created whorls of rage and defiance was with her, and the mere thought of him under her command was both a twisted reap of pleasure, and a demented conclusion of circumstance.
No matter, she thought swiftly and immediately ascended onto the Shyp, her bladed weaponry creating a musical ping across the ramp. Her writhing hunger and need was currently abated, she could afford them moments of luxury, no matter how fleeting it would be.
A B O A R D. . .T H E. . .S H Y P / / T H E. . . C A N A L.
As previously projected, which appeared so sudden and incredibly far away for peculiar reasons, the Shyp departed on swift execution with little to no ceremony after all the SOLIDERS had boarded, rising within the tundra sky, vanishing beyond the winds and hidden by the sudden whorl of disturbed natures. There was a brief shudder as the massive transport had reached the proper altitude and made a obtuse bank and turn, heading directly for the promised border and sanction of conflict. The spires of the Archadian mountains beckoning almost, looming behind the eternal winters they heralded themselves under daily and with stalwart defense like stone warped sentinels. The initial juncture of the Shyp's delivery was to skirt along the edges of Archadia, keeping to the Galbadia skies to avoid alarm and suspect, a typical route some would speculate if given reason or a chance glimpse of the Shyp transporting through the darkened skies.
The two continents hugged one another across the Maridum and Quan Ma canal, it created certain strains prior to the current mission, thus the need for subterfuge and hidden entry, much to the Commander's itching qualms as the Shyp hummed and whorled with the massive machinery required to maintain head way across the waters. The gates supplied were required for successful transport, recharging the peculiar energy units designed under Palamecia's prowess and execution.
Carmen shifted, her clawed footwear tapping repeatedly against the Shyp interior, the floor pinging constantly with her agitated motions every time the Shyp excelled through one of the gates, the innards briefly illuminating by the recharging canals and spires of the collected units under Galbadia sanction. Nearly two hours had passed by with the depart from the Zalera tundra and the Esper spires lead their way further North, the point of touch down was coming close, initiated and signaled by the sudden descent.
Only, there was something terribly peculiar about the rate of descent. Something wrong.
Carmen felt it first when her bladed footwear fell down one last time, scraping the metal flooring as the Shyp pitched forward, immediately pointing southward towards the waters she knew loomed beneath them in slight waves by the pull of the Viera moon. The incline was entirely too severe by the tightening of her straps, held within place with restraints cutting sharply and pulling against her armour in a vice. She hissed, immediately slicing through the ebon confinements to free herself.
"Something is -"
It was a terrible scream and caper of sheering metals that silenced her, the Shyp suddenly aflame in scarlet lights and blaring tones, the critical descent more like a horrendous fall, the behemoth felled from her grace of the skies. A voice, laced with terror and sudden alarm, alerted them to the sudden shift with the feed buzzing inward and out of frequency.
"A malfunction - we don't know. Something went wrong - we're going down! Brace-!"
The canal was not repaired for such an invasion, the waters roaring outward, spanning the breadth of the Shyp as it impaled the waters by the sudden crash. The sudden encounter tore through the machine, the massive transports easily and crashing heavily into the bottom and fracturing the hull with alarming ease. Water immediately poured into the facility, the Shyp tilted on a dangerous axis with few SOLDIERS still within their given harnesses, and those not, struggling to grasp purchase on jutting objects to keep their selves a foot and not to plummet within the frigid waters pouring inward through the shattered exterior.
Carmen's bladed gauntlet struck out, grasping the nearest leg of one of the seats, clawing and critically cinched tight with her visage displaying her psychical strain and struggle. The Shyp was nearly vertical upon the crash until the creak of metals groaned, echoing through the hull and amplified by the canal's torrent as it fell back, pulled by weight and gravity, and the remains fell into the canal with a roar of metal wedded to frigid temperatures of the waters awaiting them. The facility immediately began to flood, evening out and Carmen sputtered, rising from the depths with a snarl reaped across her features, the water already reaching to her knees.
The Shyp had crashed, the canal prepared to swallow them entirely if they didn't vacate soon, her gaze immediately honed in on the SOLDIERS, her claws slicing through their restraints immediately, freeing them from their confinements with a harsh swipe.
"Come on, before the entire thing floods, we need to swim to the shores!" Carmen ordered, wading through the waters, searching for the immediate crack within the Shyp, it was their only point of surviving. Once there they could collect themselves, find out what occurred, and hopefully find way to contact their Keepers - she was confident the pilots were dead, but maybe a few of the provided infantry remained - and continue with their current mission. It was her immediate response, the animal within her baying, instinct fostered hard and immediate to her heart and soul. They needed to proceed with the provided direction, less they falter and fail, and Carmen Auset was not too keen to return to her cage just yet; they couldn't afford to pull away just yet, despite the sudden disturbance.
So she inhaled, her breath sharp and splintering over her bones, her teeth slicing into her coral pout before she suddenly dove, the canal waters swallowing her figure whole.
The two continents hugged one another across the Maridum and Quan Ma canal, it created certain strains prior to the current mission, thus the need for subterfuge and hidden entry, much to the Commander's itching qualms as the Shyp hummed and whorled with the massive machinery required to maintain head way across the waters. The gates supplied were required for successful transport, recharging the peculiar energy units designed under Palamecia's prowess and execution.
Carmen shifted, her clawed footwear tapping repeatedly against the Shyp interior, the floor pinging constantly with her agitated motions every time the Shyp excelled through one of the gates, the innards briefly illuminating by the recharging canals and spires of the collected units under Galbadia sanction. Nearly two hours had passed by with the depart from the Zalera tundra and the Esper spires lead their way further North, the point of touch down was coming close, initiated and signaled by the sudden descent.
Only, there was something terribly peculiar about the rate of descent. Something wrong.
Carmen felt it first when her bladed footwear fell down one last time, scraping the metal flooring as the Shyp pitched forward, immediately pointing southward towards the waters she knew loomed beneath them in slight waves by the pull of the Viera moon. The incline was entirely too severe by the tightening of her straps, held within place with restraints cutting sharply and pulling against her armour in a vice. She hissed, immediately slicing through the ebon confinements to free herself.
"Something is -"
It was a terrible scream and caper of sheering metals that silenced her, the Shyp suddenly aflame in scarlet lights and blaring tones, the critical descent more like a horrendous fall, the behemoth felled from her grace of the skies. A voice, laced with terror and sudden alarm, alerted them to the sudden shift with the feed buzzing inward and out of frequency.
"A malfunction - we don't know. Something went wrong - we're going down! Brace-!"
The canal was not repaired for such an invasion, the waters roaring outward, spanning the breadth of the Shyp as it impaled the waters by the sudden crash. The sudden encounter tore through the machine, the massive transports easily and crashing heavily into the bottom and fracturing the hull with alarming ease. Water immediately poured into the facility, the Shyp tilted on a dangerous axis with few SOLDIERS still within their given harnesses, and those not, struggling to grasp purchase on jutting objects to keep their selves a foot and not to plummet within the frigid waters pouring inward through the shattered exterior.
Carmen's bladed gauntlet struck out, grasping the nearest leg of one of the seats, clawing and critically cinched tight with her visage displaying her psychical strain and struggle. The Shyp was nearly vertical upon the crash until the creak of metals groaned, echoing through the hull and amplified by the canal's torrent as it fell back, pulled by weight and gravity, and the remains fell into the canal with a roar of metal wedded to frigid temperatures of the waters awaiting them. The facility immediately began to flood, evening out and Carmen sputtered, rising from the depths with a snarl reaped across her features, the water already reaching to her knees.
The Shyp had crashed, the canal prepared to swallow them entirely if they didn't vacate soon, her gaze immediately honed in on the SOLDIERS, her claws slicing through their restraints immediately, freeing them from their confinements with a harsh swipe.
"Come on, before the entire thing floods, we need to swim to the shores!" Carmen ordered, wading through the waters, searching for the immediate crack within the Shyp, it was their only point of surviving. Once there they could collect themselves, find out what occurred, and hopefully find way to contact their Keepers - she was confident the pilots were dead, but maybe a few of the provided infantry remained - and continue with their current mission. It was her immediate response, the animal within her baying, instinct fostered hard and immediate to her heart and soul. They needed to proceed with the provided direction, less they falter and fail, and Carmen Auset was not too keen to return to her cage just yet; they couldn't afford to pull away just yet, despite the sudden disturbance.
So she inhaled, her breath sharp and splintering over her bones, her teeth slicing into her coral pout before she suddenly dove, the canal waters swallowing her figure whole.
