"Cecil? Cecil!" Amuné's voice grew desperate as the Machina's eyes dimmed and his hands fell away from his head. She sighed in relief and pulled back when life returned to his eyes, not noticing that something wasn't quite right until he suddenly grabbed her. Confused, the child started to ask a question, but it turned into a shriek of fright as Cecil sprang upwards, smashing through the wooden floor of the level above and the ceiling beyond that. She could only cling to his side as they burst into the air, shielding her head with her hands to keep any debris from striking her. She didn't understand, why wasn't Cecil saying anything? Was he okay?
He certainly didn't seem to be having any physical problems. Amuné's eyes widened as he sent his free arm shooting into one of the suited men, knocking the man over and slamming his head into the deck. Blood splattered across the wood. There was no way the man could have survived that! The girl's blood ran cold, and she felt like the world was spinning around her. "Ce-Cecil, stop it..." Why? Why had he done that? Ethan had said not to kill them, and he was right. Why was Cecil being so violent now? She looked at the Machina's face and shuddered. It was like a blank mask. What had happened to him?! This wasn't like when he'd fought before, this was something different, and it scared her. "Please...stop..." she begged, her voice a mere whisper, tears running down her cheeks.
She didn't like him like this, she wanted nothing but to move away, yet Cecil still held her tightly against his side, sending another of the suited men flying. They were bad men, but even they didn't deserve to die. Not like that. She squirmed, trying to pull free, but the Machina was far stronger than a mere child and she was unable to wriggle away. "L-let go. Please, Cecil, you're scaring me." Amuné was shaking by then, sobbing in fear and confusion. She barely saw him smash in the head of one of the few remaining bandits as the suit in charge dodged, nor did she register Ethan's shout. "Stop doing this, Cecil! Let go, let me go!"
Wyth was not pleased when the strange boy grabbed his girl and smashed through the ceiling. He spun around to bound back down the narrow corridor, narrowly avoiding bowling Ethan over on his way out. His man had left the kit with him, and he needed to watch over her. The scent of blood filled his nose as he emerged from the hold, strong enough that a great deal must have been spilled. It took him a moment to identify the source, as a crash and the crunch of bone reached his ears, along with the sound of shouting, and a crackle and hum he didn't recognize. But through the commotion he could make out something far more important. His girl's voice, lifted in distress. No sooner did he hear it than he was charging towards her. The boy still had her at his side, but she was trying to get away. There was a dangerous man with a humming sharp stick heading for the pair as well.
The moorcat heard the sound of the man his girl liked behind him, heading the same way. The man with the sharp stick was closer, so Wyth left that one to the nice man. He leapt for the odd boy, bringing one large paw down across Cecil's head as he slammed into the boy to knock him down, careful to keep from hitting his girl in the process. All three of them went down. A flesh-and-blood creature would have been hard put to recover from such a blow, especially as Wyth struck with his claws fully extended, using lethal force in response to his girl's sheer terror. But Cecil was a Machina. At most he suffered superficial slashes from the feline's claws, perhaps a minor dent.
The girl yelped when she hit the deck. Between Wyth and the tumble, Cecil's grip on her had broken, and she rolled over away from him. Beside her the moorcat was gathering himself for another strike. He didn't understand why the odd boy hardly seemed injured at all, but it didn't matter, all that mattered was giving his girl enough time to get a safe distance away.
Amuné didn't go, though, not right away. She'd been too slow to stop Wyth from attacking Cecil, and even as she reached for the moorcat's leg she dreaded she wouldn't be fast enough. Something had happened to the Machina down in the hold, and he was acting very violent, but he hadn't been hurting her, not really, and she couldn't let Wyth hurt him. And there was the possibility that if Wyth went after him again, he'd attack the cat like he'd attacked those men. Wyth was the only family she had right now, she couldn't bear to lose him. "No! Stop, Wyth, I'm fine, I'm okay, just don't -- come here, please, leave him alone." She was babbling, but the moorcat stopped, glancing back at the small hands gripping his hind foot, and made a noise of frustration and concern. His girl didn't want him attacking the boy. It made no sense, but for now he'd listen. Keeping his attention on the fallen boy, he shuffled backwards until he was at his girl's side, and then he herded her out of the way. Amuné went willingly, half-crawling half-scuttling off to the side until she came up against the railing. Reassured by Wyth's considerable bulk standing protectively over her, she pressed against his side.
Ethan's raised voice drew her attention. He had grabbed Cecil and was yelling at the Machina. He seemed different as well, and it was just too much. "Stop it!" Her voice rose shrilly, cutting across a scene that seemed too still, now that the commotion had died down. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Just stop!" She didn't want this, didn't want any of this, not Cecil's emotionless face or Ethan's yelling or the bandit woman's lies or the suited men with their awful eyes or anyone getting hurt, much less killed.
Member
RPM,
ShankySpice,
Iracebeth,
Fallenreaper,
Numbers,
xVampire3go,
Blair,
Ashifa ASMR YT,
D3AD ST4R,
tadcfnaf
