The Savant — Roleplayer Guild

In collaboration with @Qia - @Xandrya - @Eviledd1984 - @The Savant

The moment that his eye locked onto Pilka and he was walking away from Selene, Roach was on a mission. Moving through the panicked crowd of individuals and ignoring the sounds of cackling laughter in the background, he put away his charge gun and took out another gun from his trench coat. Prepping this specific gun with a scope and making sure it was ready, he got into position as he watched the man on the ledge above, and got him into his sights. 

Roach = 19 (Success) 

A noise from the steel cord could be heard when the gun went off, but other than that, it was a silent fire. Within seconds, the shot entered its target, and the arrowhead, which looked normal, flared out into the man’s shoulder to grip under his skin. It entered his left shoulder blade, and before he could gasp out in pain, the lightness of nothing being under him could be felt before he smashed into a pile of garbage and other trash outside of a building. 

“God, I love my job,” Roach purred out those words while the cigarette moved between his lips. Getting Pilka down, he assumed the poor son of a bitch died from the fall, so he took out a flask — unscrewed it — rolled up his sleeve, poured some alcohol on the Duskhound wound, and took a swig before his eye caught movement. 

He’s alive?

Pilka was slowly getting up from the fall, his whole body hurt, but it wasn’t like he hadn't fallen from similar heights with worse padding underneath. His body shook from the adrenaline rushing through his body, the searing pain from his stitches ripping and the dry, burnt skin cracking and coming apart around his shoulder and chest, and the metal item that was stabbing in his flesh. All of it made him want to cry out in pain, but he found it difficult to breathe at the moment. Trying to remind himself how to breathe, the other man, Roach, was cursing while throwing the empty flask somewhere into the dust with a clanking sound as it rattled on the ground. 

Selene’s boots faltered, the limp in her stride sharpening as a thwip sliced through the din. She froze, shoulders tensing. Behind her, chaos metastasized, and somewhere in the fray, a bullet had found its mark. She didn’t need visuals to map the aftermath: the wet thud, the collapse. Roach’s fingerprints were all over this brand of carnage.

“Oh, for fu—” she muttered, not even bothering to finish the curse before she found herself actually reconsidering what she should do. Her eyes dropped to her legs, jaw grinding. The faintest whir pulsed beneath the surface of her skin, a tension she’d grown used to over the years—the signature hum of the augments installed during a time in her life she didn’t exactly love to revisit. Reflex enhancements. Sprint boosters. Mostly useless if she were being careful. Dangerous if she wasn’t. The kind of tech that let her outrun trouble or throw herself headfirst into it.

Now, the machinery taunted her. She knew a single neural trigger would flood her veins with synthetic adrenaline, transforming her limp into a sprint. But overclocking came with costs—tremors, migraines, the haunting sense that her bones weren’t wholly hers anymore. Like father, like daughter, she thought bitterly. Her parents had traded their humanity for immortality in the form of power; she’d bartered hers for the ability to outrun their legacy.

She should’ve kept walking. She’d said her piece. Gotten her hits in—verbally, anyway. But her feet weren’t moving, were they?

She pivoted, the augments snarling to life.

“Stupid.” She clicked her tongue. “Dumb. Reckless. Predictable.” Pain spiderwebbed up her leg all the while, a white-hot reminder of the hound’s claws, but she gritted through it, boots slamming the tile as she walked back into the fray.

Pilka was mentally clearing from the daze that he was knocked into. That sharp pain beating in his shoulder as he realized something was attached to him, a metal wire, and he gently grabbed it before realizing that a few yards away someone was standing there. A man. Someone who looked like he wanted to stay hidden — out of sight and out of mind. 

His lips parted for a second before closing. What was he even supposed to say? “If you are going to talk. Say something. I’m sorry to tell you, but whatever you say will most likely be your last,” Roach chirped while tugging the steel cable which caused Pilka to grip the cable as well and fix his stance. This made it so Roach couldn’t pull him with ease before Pilka decided to pull. Roach was prepared for it but found himself hitting the ground hard with so much ease that it startled him. 

While Roach was getting up, Pilka was already fiddling with the piece in his back. He was trying to figure out how to unscrew it, then he noticed Roach getting up and grabbing the gun. In a split second, he yanked the piece out of his flesh which caused him to clench his teeth and breathe heavily through his nose. It hurt. It hurt so much. Though he knew it was necessary so the other man couldn’t keep yanking him to the ground or throwing him off. 

This was when Pilka took out a sword from the x-shaped holster on his back, which was under his backpack. Holding it in his good arm, he was uncertain with everything, and the girl moved towards them. Roach noticed Pilka was staring past him and turned his head slightly to see Selene approaching, “Go home. Daddy’s busy,” Roach commanded. 

She’d seen the fall, and now she was seeing the aftermath. Pilka. Roach. One bleeding out, the other barking orders like it was just another Tuesday. It wasn’t.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Selene shot back. “I’m just up to, what did you call it? My usual dumb shit?” Her tone was sugar-laced venom, but it wasn’t just for him. It was for herself, too, for not leaving when she had the chance. For coming back. “​You said you’d still check in on me, remember? Without a second thought. Guess that makes two of us.” 

Then, gesturing towards Pilka, who was broken and bloodied, she asked, “What’s so special about this guy? He talk to someone he wasn’t supposed to? Or is this one of those ‘make an example’ gigs you take when the suits need a reminder sent?” Selene didn’t know who Pilka was or what he’d done. But she’d seen enough of Roach’s "assignments" over the years to know the pattern: you didn’t have to be guilty. Just visible. Just inconvenient. Just someone with the wrong eyes, the wrong luck with sins under their belt that were too petty or profound to matter.  Just like her, if it were the former. Except without the benefit of a powerful name to protect them. 

“If he’s not already dying, I assume you’re planning to fix that,” she finished, jaw set. “So go on. Finish the job. That’s the part you like, right? The cleanup?” 

Go on, Roach. The unspoken challenge hung between them. Show me I’d have been better off with you. Take him out.

O’Bannon had given Jonathan a tour of the lab before he left. He was impressed, and it was much better than the one he had at home.  Before he had left, he was given a warning from O’Bannon. “Be on your toes, since you're with me, you're probably gonna be targeted by not only the cops but other gangs.” But Jonathan just brushed this off, smiling behind his mask. “You don’t have to worry about me. No one's gonna bother Ratman because no one likes Ratman.”[ O’Bannon didn’t seem to understand what Jonathan meant. But perhaps because everyone avoids him, he would not be suspected of his drug activities. 

As Jonathan left for the clinic, he was watching the daily news report from behind a window at home. Processing the information, and while doing so, the worst scenarios came to mind. One idea that made him deeply afraid was the government sacrificing them to the creatures in the tunnels.  The thought reminded him of his childhood and the trauma from the day he lost his parents.  His eyes started twitching, and he started rocking on the heels of his feet.  He only stopped when he started using the breathing exercises he was taught. 

Walking away to the clinic so he could get some more morphine.  The acquisition of such drugs was easy.  A little bit of bribery was enough for the clinic worker to give Jonathan some morphine. As he was walking down the street, he was softly singing a catchy song. As he walked down the street, he started to dance, his singing growing a little louder.  This got some strange looks from people around him. 

"I won't tell mom the truth, get your rest."

She looked at him as he nodded softly before he gazed at the wall. With a sigh, Kara told him she was heading out. She walked outside the hospital room and slid shut the door. Another hospital visit to see her brother, but this time he was concussed and cut up. Whoever was on the other end of that knife was not too skilled, though that was something she was thankful for. Kara walked towards the exit, the dilemma of lying to her mother again not sitting well for her, as it shouldn't. Her brother was a good kid, for the most part, but he wasn't the smartest cookie when the time came to pick his battles. She'd lost count of how many times she had to step in and save him, all behind their mother's back. And their mother would be there any minute, which meant that it was her cue to go. She wasn't going to get caught up in some lies just yet. 

Once outside, Kara made for the store. She figured she'd get a few aftercare items for her brother so as to relieve their mother from such burden. She walked with a purpose, mentally putting a list together of what she was going to pick up.

There was an undeniable irritation in the man as he turned towards the younger woman with an accusatory finger pointed diagonally, “Selene, this man is a burrower for one. It’s illegal for him to be in the city and for TWO —” his hands gestured out with his palms facing the ceiling. “He attacked a young girl about your age! He’s dangerous!” The older man’s tone sounded as if he was scolding a child. Someone who knew nothing of what he was doing or why. 

Before he knew it, he looked towards where Pilka was, and the man was gone. “God dam —” he hissed those words into a closed lip growl. Glaring at Selene, “If he hurts anyone. It’s on you,” Roach darted to where the man was standing and started looking around for him. Deciding which way would have been the most practical to go if you were trying to hide or get out of the city — he went that way. 

The man ran through the crowds and disappeared without a second thought when the young woman was distracted by the man who shot and took out a decent chunk of his shoulder. Who did he piss off? Maybe the parents of Kara or the authorities hired the man who attacked him. Either way, he wasn’t sticking around, and he wasn’t trying to figure out who or why. 

Getting cut off by a crowd of people, Pilka stopped, and the people almost screamed when they saw him. Some did. Some had the sounds trapped in their throat. A panic washed through him as he slid to a stop before running in a different direction. He could hear the people screaming different things in surprise — “What was that!?”, “That had to be a burrower!!”, “That thing looked like a monster!”, “He looked hurt!” — and plenty more, but he quickly moved away from the crowd and got into an alleyway. Sadly, it wasn’t one that would take him out of the city, but it would let him possibly escape the man who was hunting him. 

Selene’s arms folded loosely, the case still clutched to her side. She didn’t move as Roach snarled and stormed off, but her voice followed him when she spoke. 

“You’re wrong, by the way,” she called after him. “If he hurts someone, it’s not on me. It’s on you!” She didn’t expect him to hear her. And even if he did, she doubted he’d stop. 

Roach’s accusation festered, though. That Pilka had attacked someone her age. Selene didn’t know if it was true. And that was the part that clawed at her ribs. She couldn’t tell if the man Roach had shot and nearly finished off was a threat or just unlucky enough to look like one at the wrong time. Maybe he had hurt someone. Maybe he hadn’t. But Roach didn’t give people space for maybe. And if Pilka had done something….

Well.

Then perhaps the city should’ve sent someone better than a chain-smoking ghost with a god complex to handle it.

Selene exhaled through her nose, short and slow. Around her, the plaza was still bleeding noise—sirens in the distance, footsteps slapping concrete. Her gaze had dropped to the spot where Pilka had fallen, and her feet were already moving before she could convince herself not to follow.

If I’m gonna be dragged into this, then I get to know what I’m standing in.

She stepped over broken glass and bent kiosks, one hand brushing against the side of a splintered bench for balance. There were still scuffs in the grime where Pilka had landed, trash half-crushed into an outline. His flight had been frantic, marked by staggered steps and desperation. Not the retreat of a calculated predator, but of something cornered. Vulnerable. The realization unsettled the young woman. Sure, it was true that survival instinct didn’t equate to innocence, but it sure as hell complicated Roach’s black-and-white narrative.

She straightened slowly, adjusting the case at her side. Her eyes scanned the alley beyond the mess, then up to where the rooftops were. A possible direction. A place to start. 

As Jonathan was walking down the street, he could hear the distant sound of a police siren. Someone did something naughty and was being chased.  “Uh oh, someone is being naughty.”  He mused softly as he continued to sing.  His train of thought was words that came out of his mouth. He wondered what had happened to him that could have left him in such a state. 

“You're hurt. Do you need any help?  He asked, sounding concerned. Jonathan didn’t even question how he got those injuries, but how he could help this man. But there was the possibility that he didn’t want John’s help. But he was willing to take the rejection if he was at least offered some kind of help. 

As she walked, Kara took notice of her surroundings. Something had happened... Increased chatter, sirens, ...Pilka?

She first saw him, then she saw the blood staining his clothes, the dark hue a sore sight for her. "Pilka!" Kara rushed his way, assuming the aggressor to be the individual standing by his side. "Get away from him!" she motioned, moving to stand between Pilka and the stranger, one hand pointing in an accusatory manner. "You, that way, now! Don't you dare get any closer!"

She was all bark at the moment. Kara hadn't thought ahead about what would happen if she were to be attacked as well, but her friend was wounded, and so she would do what she could to prevent further harm against him.

The man was surprised when he found someone right in front of him asking if he was okay. Opening his mouth to respond, he got caught off guard by his name being shouted, and his head turned to see the unfamiliar voice — Kara. Before he knew it, she was between him and the stranger, barking at him to get back, and Pilka grabbed her shoulder. His touch was firm but soft, just enough to guide her back, and explain, “Kara,” His voice was stern when he referred to her. “He was asking if I needed help. He’s not the one that did this,” Just as he got those words out, he heard electricity turn on with high voltage. 

Outcome = 12 (success) 

Pilka swung around and barely missed Kara and Jonathan with his movements before barely blocking Roach’s attack. The electricity funneled into the sword and into the hilt instead of his body. “You did come back for her you sick fuck,” the man grinned while stepping back with the pronged weapon. This caused Pilka to move away from Kara and Jonathan. 

“You know, he said you would, and I was hoping that you weren’t like the others, but you guys always remind me why you got outlawed by society. Just not capable of being fucking normal,” Roach lunged forward while Pilka took out his second sword, the weight echoing pain in his left shoulder. 

Outcome = 12 (success) 

Once again, the man’s attack was blocked, but this time, it hurt, and Pilka’s jaw clenched instead of letting out a noise. “You must enjoy hearing yourself talk because I’ve never run into someone who has tried to kill me by talking to me to death,” Pilka moved back and kept his eyes on Roach. “Also, who is he?” 

Roach began reaching into his trench coat for another weapon, “I can’t share client information,” the older man began to charge Pilka again.

Selene’s spine locked as the electric crackle split the air, the sound raising the fine hairs on her neck. She didn’t need visuals to parse its meaning: Roach had cornered his prey, and Pilka, wounded and frenzied, was still lashing out with whatever defiance his battered body could muster. Her fingers dug into the case’s handle, while the synthetic fibres woven into her calves vibrated with suppressed kinetic energy. Go. Intervene, her mind urged her.  Yet she remained rooted, retreating deeper into the alley’s maw, half-concealed by a crumpled signboard and a broken street lamp. From here, she could see shapes just ahead—Kara, that same guy Scotti and she had encountered in the tunnels (and seriously, what were the chances of that?), and the two men locked in some distorted ballet of blood and ego.

Selene didn’t shout. Didn’t charge in. She just watched, chest tight. Because she still didn’t know what side of this mess she was on. To side with Roach was to endorse his mercilessness; to aid Pilka risked aligning with a potential monster. Both choices were, to put it simply, not great. 

So, for now, she observed. Assessed. 

One wrong move. One wrong word.

Then she’d decide.

The girl’s accusatory tone took Jonathan aback.  He stepped backwards from Kara and Pilka.  Of course, it was typical for someone to be quite hesitant for him to be around.   “I didn’t mean any harm…I just wanted to help…”   He muttered with his hands shoved into his pocket. Watching the three of them, wondering what had happened before that would lead up to this situation. 

  “Well, whatever your business is, it’s no concern of mine.”  He said and watched as Roach charged at Pilka.  Part of him wanted to join in, but another part of him didn’t know if doing so could affect his life.  For the time being, he should stay out of this fight. Whistling loudly while looking around as if the fight wasn’t happening at all.

Kara stumbled back a few steps, flinching at the sudden onslaught brought on against Pilka. The stranger went on about something that Kara didn't pick up on at first. But as she heard the rest of what he was saying, it suddenly dawned on her. 

"Wait, stop!" Her arms were out in front of her as if pleading with the man, though she didn't get closer. "He didn't hurt me, he never has!" She was practically shouting at that point, making sure her voice was heard and not ignored. Kara couldn't bear the thought of watching Pilka get hurt over her damn lies. She looked back at the masked man who had sidelined himself out of harm's way. "Hey, help me stop him!"

The ambitions of the young woman didn’t fully register until she was right in front of him, yelling stop, “What?” his tone was accusatory as he had the gun pointed at Pilka. “What did you just say?” Roach’s attention went from Pilka to the woman. He had to hear what she just said again because he didn’t feel like he had heard her. He had to be hearing things. Right? 

Having the gun pointed to the ground, Roach shook his head, “My hearing must be going,” The man let out a laugh, but it wasn’t one of amusement. It was one of disbelief and annoyance. 

Pilka did not move, since he wasn’t sure Roach was the kind of guy who would hurt others to get what he wanted. Clearly, the other man wanted him and had to be paid to get him off this earth. “Kara, stop,” Pilka’s voice was stern as he took a step forward to the younger woman. She was going to get herself in trouble and that wasn’t something he wanted for her. 

“You know, it really doesn’t matter if you hurt her or not. You are still illegally in Dominion,” Roach pressed the button to charge the gun. An electrical sound rang out as it began to charge up. It didn’t matter if Pilka ran or not, he would chase him, and it was a game that Roach loved to play — cat and mouse. 

That was when Roach smirked, glanced over to Jonathan, and gestured the gun at him too, “And he is too. Neither of these men are allowed in Dominion’s walls.” 

He didn’t hurt me. He never has.

That line hit harder than Roach’s bullet had. Because that was the kind of truth that didn’t come dressed in strategy: it wasn’t convenient nor clean. It just was. And the second it landed, Selene knew what side of this mess she stood on, even if the ground there wasn’t solid.

Her eyes dropped briefly to the case, which was still hooked against her ribs. Heavy with weight and unknown consequences. And then they rose again, locking onto the man with the charged weapon and the flammable ego.

Her voice came dry and scathing.

“Gotta say, if your aim was justice, you missed.” She stepped out from the alley’s shadow. “And what did you say about missing again? Not to do it or else?”

The hum of her leg augment climbed with every step. 

“You know what’s illegal, too? Executions without trials.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Jonathan. Then Kara. Then Pilka. “​Funny how you’re always the one pulling the trigger before anyone asks questions, Roach.” She didn’t raise her voice. Didn’t need to. Roach would hear her just fine, if not with his ears, then with whatever rusted thing he used as a conscience.

Because this wasn’t the first time for them. Selene had seen him act like this before. When she was younger. Back when she still thought surveillance meant protection. Back when she still flinched every time someone mentioned her parents, like they were a tragic story instead of a cautionary one. And Roach had always been there, hovering at the periphery of her life like secondhand smoke. Lingering in every shadowed hallway of her memory. Always armed. Always watching.

She remembered the first time she asked him why. Why did a man like him, who clearly hated most people, take the job of keeping her “safe”? His answer hadn’t been gentle. Or kind. But it had stuck.

“Because the people who want to use you don’t wait until you’re ready. And because sometimes the only thing that keeps the real monsters away… is a worse one.”

She’d believed him, then. Believed there was some twisted nobility in the way he operated. That violence could be a shield if wielded right. Now watching Pilka, bloodied but unbroken, Selene wondered if she’d misread their dynamic entirely. Had Roach’s tutelage been protection or a slow inoculation against empathy? She would like to think—hope— otherwise, especially given her actions towards Scotti. Still…it was difficult for her to say. Truly. 

So now, as the crackle of voltage buzzed again through the air, Selene didn’t step between them. But her fingers tensed. Like she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he took one more step.Please don’t

He watched them arguing and fighting each other. But when asked to join the fight, he looked at Kara with a strange expression.   “Why? I don’t know the big picture here; I need to know whose horse I’m backing. “  He said, pointing at both Roach and Pilka.   “You two have obvious issues with each other.  You two need to see a therapist.”  Jonathan said, shaking his head. Watching the fight like a hawk watching prey.  A small part of him became excited by their fighting.   Although he thought it was poor form for Roach to pull a gun on Pilka. 

 “Tsk, such poor sportsmanship from Cockaroach.” He said, gritting his teeth while commentating on the fight.  Jonathan’s eyes were now moving over towards Roach, who was now pointing a gun at him.    “Whoa, watch where you're pointing that thing, John Wayne. I’m a citizen of the Dominion, same as you. I pay my taxes.”  Although he didn’t remember the last time he had paid his taxes. Did he even pay taxes? A question he would have to answer in safety. Jonathan had his hands while stepping on a soda can. He could use this to kick it at Roach and then let the others deal with him.   

Her breath was no longer caught in her throat. "Okay, we're being slightly rational now, right?" She walked towards Pilka as she motioned for Roach to lower his weapon, thankful that Selene had walked up to them. Kara thought the odds to be in her favor, hoping that each step forward wasn't a step leading her to serious repercussions. She moved carefully, watching for any sudden movement from Roach "Look, he helped me avoid capture after being hurt...and now I have to repay the favor."

She didn't. In fact, Pilka would be against the idea, but then she'd simply ignore him. Kara took a quick look at the man. He was beaten, covered in blood, and goodness knows how much more damage he'd taken up to that point. While Kara wouldn't necessarily advance on Roach offensively, she would do her best to prevent additional attacks against Pilka. 

Pilka might have been standing there out of being able to take a minute to rest. Everything hurts. However, he knew if he ran — Roach would run too. And at the moment with all the chaos around them and the Duskhound, he knew it would be stupid to be running around and trying to get away from him. He might run into something worse. 

He shook his head with a gentle tone, “Kara, please…” he didn't want her getting in trouble for him and he knew she was already in a situation because of him even though he had no idea how much questioning she had been through. 

The older man had a disbelief in his face and mainly in the tightness of his jaw when Selene came out of the shadows and started talking. He took absolutely no care in what Jonathan was saying because he had heard worse. “Where did you pull all of that bullshit from?” His tone sounded condescending and dismissive towards Selene. 

His body turned to her and he moved a step closer, naturally, “I'm licensed and killing both of these sad fuckers would be legal for your information. You don't know anything. That's the problem. You're talking about shit you have no idea about. People like him,” he pointed the gun at Pilka, “Have been illegal for the last handful of decades and people like him,” he pointed the gun back at Jonathan and Jonathan commented about paying his taxes like everyone else. This called the older man to laugh with a sickening amusement. “They just illegalized people like you. You are as much of a citizen as he is,” he gestured the gun at Pilka. 

Looking back at Selene, “You need to understand these people were outlawed for good reason. They were causing more issues for the lot of us,” Roach went on a rant but he was roughly twenty to thirty years old when Pilka and other burrowers were outlawed. He lives through all the news headings and everything else that was bad and gritty. 

“And you!” Roach practically growled that out in accusation as he focused on Kara. “Step away from him. Now.” These words hissed out. “You are ruining your life kid. Now get out of my way so I can do my job.”

Pilka stepped forward, “Put that gun down,” his voice was assertive as he reached out and put a hand in Kara's shoulder and began to encourage her to move out of the way. “You need to get out of here. Before the authorities come. We've caused such a scene already. “ he wanted Kara gone but he knew there were cameras everywhere. 

Selene didn’t flinch as Roach turned his anger onto her. She didn’t backpedal when he moved a step closer, gun swinging between accusations like some twisted conductor's baton. She just listened, expression flat, breathing steady, even as his words tried to dig under her skin.

Tried.
And maybe a year ago, they would have. Maybe even six months ago.
But not now. 

With time, it had become easier to resist the old instinct to shrink in the face of authority—his authority, her parents’ authority—because that was all it was: old, outdated, and crumbling under its rust. The only person who could decide for her what she should and shouldn’t do…was herself. 

“You keep saying people like him. People like him, people like me, people you can pin a reason on and sleep easier at night.” She tilted her head, studying Roach with grim detachment. “Maybe you forgot, but it’s not the label that makes someone automatically dangerous. Automatically anything.” She could feel the storm boiling behind her ribs—rage, grief, maybe a little fear—but she didn’t let it touch her face. Because she’d learned the hard way that labels meant nothing.

Mother. Father. Family.

Words she used to cling to like they meant safety, only to find the people behind them couldn’t, or wouldn’t, live up to the names they wore. If anything, Roach had filled those roles more than they ever had, in his slightly twisted way. That was the part that made all this harder. He’d taught her to survive but never how to live. Never how to question the line between being protected and being controlled. 

So maybe that was why, without thinking, Selene placed the case down and moved. One step. Then another. Closing the distance. Her muscles tensed, waiting for the right moment to knock the gun from his hand the way he’d taught her years ago, back when disarming drills were just another warped version of father-daughter bonding. 

Selene’s attempt to disarm: 6

But emotion sabotaged her aim.

Because when she reached out, she hesitated. Enough that instead of cleanly slapping the weapon away, her hand fumbled, skimming his wrist awkwardly and, for one awful second, it looked less like a takedown and more like….

Like a hug. 

 “Damn it girl get out of the way.”    Jonathan gritted his teeth while muttering these words.  His foot was still on the can in case he would be able to use it. One of his eyes was twitching rapidly. He could feel his whole body shaking violently. What Roach was saying must be the rumours that were mentioned on the TV. Closing his eyes as his breath became more rapid.  “Calm down…2…4…6…8…10…12…”  He said trying to calm himself down. 

But the voice from before was trying to tell him something. It sounded like the voice was screaming, trying to kick down the door to his mind. He opened his eyes, scanning the area, and looked at Kara and Pilka. As if his expression was telling them something.  There was a possibility that his plan would fail, and the girl could be taken hostage.  But not doing anything would lead to his demise.  Placing the crushed can onto the top of his foot, he tried to kick the can at Roach’s hand to try and disarm him. 

Jonathan attempts to kick the can at Roach’s hand: 18

The can flew straight into Roach’s hand. The sharpness of the broken can cut into his hand. Leaving a nice gash on the back of his hand.  

The scene unfolded before her like a movie. Kara watched as the others went after Roach before the opportunity presented itself, and she didn't think twice to act, not when it meant potentially saving Pilka's life. The young woman grabbed her friend's hand and dragged him along into the nearest alley, moving as fast as Pilka would allow her. 

Losing Roach:
9

They turned the corner before she realized they were fenced in and a slew of curse words escaped her lips. In an act of desperation, Kara rushed to the chain-link fence to see whether any of the corners were loose or damaged so they could go through it, but the damn thing was secured rather sturdily. Kara cursed to herself again. 

"Pilka, can you make it over?" She didn't wait for his response, and she didn't need to. It was foolish to even ask that question to begin with. "Forget it, no, just get behind me, " she motioned, seeing an iron pipe by the stack of discarded boxes to her right. She reached down to grab it, noting it was about two feet long, just about the right length to be swung like a bat. 

Roach was not thrilled that individuals were trying to ruin his plan, especially Selene. His body seemed to tense up before confusion set in, “A-are you hugging me?” That was let out when he felt pain in his hand and heard the broken can rattle against the ground. Pulling his hand back towards him and glaring at Jonathan. Raising his weapon up, he was aiming for the man. 

The scene was chaotic as the two went after the man with the gun — was she hugging him? — but he was getting pulled away without hesitation and noticed Kara was the one pulling him. His whole left side was burning with pain. Once they got to an alleyway, he was unsure what her plan was, and then she asked him to climb a fence, and he sighed. Pilka put away the swords and looked at her. “Kara, I am in a lot of pain right now,” he spoke out evenly. “And you do not need to be trying to protect me. You need to be —” that was when he was cut off by a loud megaphone. 

“EVERYONE PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN AND HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!!!” This voice might be familiar to some and not to others — Safety Officer Klay was standing there with a small group of safety officers. They were moving right towards Selene, Jonathan, and Roach. Two of them broke off from the group to look for the others that were reported in the chaos, and they quickly found Pilka and Kara in the alleyway. 

Pilka was glaring towards them, and he was considering running at this point, but he was hurting. If he messed up at all in trying to get away, he would be regretting it, so he stood there. Not quite listening to the commands to drop weapons and put his hands behind his head, though his shoulder was injured as well. 

Selene froze the instant she heard the command. Her retreat from Roach unfolded in stilted increments, the space between them thick with the afterburn of misread intention. Heat prickled up her neck, a wildfire of humiliation she refused to let crest into her expression. She didn’t dare glance at the others; she barely even glanced at Roach. Instead, her mind snapped to one glaring problem:

The case.
Still lying a few feet away.
Still very much not in her hands.

In the middle of everything—the blood, the shouting, the absurdity of whatever the hell she'd just tried to do—there it sat, heavy and damning, like it was mocking her. Selene’s hands rose partway, palms open, a careful show of compliance. But every nerve screamed at her to move. To grab it. To run. To do something. Her heel pivoted imperceptibly, aligning her body with the case’s location. The augments in her legs cycled to a higher frequency, a suppressed scream of potential energy.

Attempt at Escape: Successful

Then, she exploded into motion, a blur of controlled momentum, as the case’s handle slapped into her palm. Relief lasted the nanosecond she’d managed to put some good distance between her and any pursuers, the consequences of pushing herself after the duskhound attack hitting her as hard as a truck. Every step felt heavier, so when a maintenance access hatch caught her eye, without thinking, Selene veered toward it, skidding low and vanishing into the crawlspace just as the security officers' boots thundered past behind her.

Jonathan looked around to see where the sound of the siren was coming from.  He could hear the voice calling for them to surrender. Jonathan watched as Kara, Pilka, and Serene escaped, so he would have to make a tree and get out of here. He had heard horror stories of the kind of things they would do to people like him.   

Jonathan escaping the police:  14

 “Adiós cucaracha ”  Jonathan said to Roach before stumbling a little as he started running. Jogging away from the sight of Safety Officer Klay and his goons.  Although his backpack was quite heavy, he was not running as fast as he liked. Moving from alleyways and streets, getting strange looks from passersby.   Hiding behind a building of a clothing store. Looking behind a corner, hoping that he wasn’t followed. 

They'd been made. The authorities had intervened just when Kara thought she had a chance to get Pilka away from danger. She stood still, waiting with the type of anticipatory anxiety that leaves one with a tightness in the throat. There was nowhere they could go... 

As soon as a couple of officers rounded the corner, they reiterated for her to drop the weapon, and she did that without hesitation. The sound it made as soon as it hit the pavement echoed off the walls on either side of them, and Kara immediately put her hands behind her head and interlocked her fingers. She wondered how she'd get out of this now, what she could say or do to avoid trouble, but she was finding it hard to think up a plausible plan. And Pilka... He wouldn't be killed by that prick now, but how would the Council handle him? He was back in the city, like she'd warned him not to do, and presumably, they would seek to increase the severity of this crime, and with that, the punishment. 

Once everyone started scattering, so did the officers, and to some of their surprise, Roach barked out orders while taking out his wallet and letting it open up. Holding the gun in his hand still, his wallet in the other, “No reason to chase her, rozzers, touch her and see what happens,” one of the officers came up to him and grabbed his wallet to read his identification. An annoyed scoff happened before the man took Roach’s gun and began to cuff him, “We can still take you in for questioning,” the man sounded snarky. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Roach smiled forcefully. 

Officers roll = Unsuccessful 

The other officers decided that they would run after Jonathan, though they soon found themselves wondering where he had gone. He shouldn’t have been able to go that far, so he must be hiding, yet they couldn’t spot him anywhere. They were almost at a loss for words, trying to figure out where the scavenger had run off to. 

Pilka looked like he was determining what he should do — should he fight? He wasn’t certain, and he glanced at Kara because he was wondering a few things about her. How terrified she must be in this situation. A few officers were standing at the opening of the alleyway. Pilka was definitely determining what he should do and if he should chance it or not. Either way, he was dead, right? 

That was when one officer started stepping towards them, and he took out his word, “Do not step any closer,” His voice was commanding as he readied his weapon. 

This caused the officers to tense up because they were honestly more worried about Kara being harmed by the man than anything else. “You do not want to do that. Put your weapon away,” the officer closer to them stated while putting their hands up. 

Pilka’s hands were very visible from the light and how close they were. He kept the sword pointing down almost lazily in his hand while staring at the officers, “And what are you going to do if I listen? I know I’m not supposed to be in the walls and my people have been put to death for less than what has happened today,” he spoke evenly and almost unemotionally. 

The officers seemed not to know how to respond to him. The one began to lift a weapon, it wasn’t deadly, but it was made to stun — a taser. While the other one did the same. 

She turned slightly, hands still behind her head, and confirmed that Pilka did in fact have his sword in hand. Despite being in an already anxious state, Kara became irritated. He didn't have to walk into their arms, but to pull out his sword...that was foolish. They were both cornered, so what was his idea to be exact, to force his escape after he butchered the officers? 

"What are you doing?" she whispered to him, looking at the sword, then at him.

It might have been nowhere on his face but Pilka was scared of the unknown ahead. If he fought, he knew that he could possibly escape, and if he escaped — that meant he could possibly live. However, he knew burrowers were put to death for plenty of things in Dominion and he knew his trial would be no different. His blind-like eyes glanced over to Kara as she whispered to him. “I know you don’t understand, Kara, but if I go with them — I am dead. I’m not a civilian. I do not get a trial like you do.” This made his grip tighten on his sword. 

He wouldn't lie to her now, but Kara was still a little torn. "I'll help you." Kara mouthed the words, hoping he'd get the message. She then turned back to the officers, determined to get one of them away from Pilka.

"I'll come with you," she looked at the officer on the right before kneeling down to show she wasn't a threat nor intending on running. She wasn't going to try anything funny, not yet anyway. 

His eyes sharpened towards her when she mouthed that she would help him and he was uncertain about what she was going to do. Watching her move forward and kneeling down, he took a few steps back, and he was watching an officer go closer to her. That was when his shoulder slumped and his eyes closed for a second. Pilka put his sword away since he didn’t want Kara getting into the middle of him and the officers. Once his sword was away and his hand was down, one of the officers shot the taser at him, and he fell to his knees trying to cope with the electricity jolting through his system and his teeth clenched a muffled whine. This allowed one officer to go for Kara while the other two went for Pilka and slammed him on the ground with force. They were putting him in cuffs without any hesitation or care. 

As one of the officers approached her, the others advanced towards Pilka as well. Kara looked back in time to see him getting tased, but she was unable to even take a step toward him as her hands were getting placed behind her back. Kara only watched in horror as he was roughly apprehended, then she was getting pulled to her feet and away from the alley. She had to be nudged forward a few times with her mind not quite processing what she'd just witnessed. 

This post is allowing characters to write what they go through over the next 3 days
The Savant Member

A mind filled with chaos

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