Action Log /// 002
Who: Mitsuo, Max, and Heine [Open to anyone who thinks they can help, or wants to capitalize on the chaos.]
What: Saving Mitsuo from an Ogre.
Where: Near the Archives.
When: Post-Plane Shift.
( ... )
What: Saving Mitsuo from an Ogre.
Where: Near the Archives.
When: Post-Plane Shift.
( ... )
At the top of the steps, in front of the massive wooden doors, he paused; he placed one hand against the handle, not in reverence... but in fear. This city had proven to him, on some level, that it was dangerous, and that he was not at level. Hesitation was to be expected. His other hand strayed to his pocket and closed around the unused gun he had hidden there.
What it came down to was the odd balance of this place; the Game versus his fear of the Unknown. He wanted to play, desperately... to prove to everyone that he was special, and the Best. But now and then, he caught glimpses of the edge of how Real this all was. High stakes, that's all, he told himself, and pushed on the door.
It didn't budge...
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But when Mitsuo failed to keep moving, she frowned.
"What's the problem, charming?" Max wanted badly to continue forward. She couldn't shake the feeling that a monster was eyeing her back and ready to pounce on her vulnerable flesh. But then, that was a common enough feeling.
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The one movement he did make was to slowly step behind the two as they walked. It was the reason he was last up the steps, too, finding Max and Mitsuo standing there. He missed the fact Mitsuo had tried to open it, but caught Max's word asking what the problem was. Heine stayed silent since he'd just be asking the same question again.
And, in Mitsuo's defense, no one liked being told or asked anything twice.
His penguin was still present, waddling up the stairs to greet the three of them, returning to latch onto one of Heine's legs when it got close enough.
Heine sighed. Between the penguin and Mitsuo he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.
"Let me guess. You can't open it."
So much for staying quiet.
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Mitsuo's running steps echoed in her ears and internally she rolled her eyes. Typical.
"What the hell?" she snapped. Whatever happened to kicking open locked doors? Was that just not cool enough anymore?
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Of course. Of course, that voice. He hadn't even bothered to check who was here and who wasn't from his world. Everything had gone by so fast, this incident suddenly involving him in a trek through the infested streets of this city.. To think an Ogre was now the least of his worries-and possibly the least of Max's and Mitsuo's as well-wasn't exactly a surprise ( ... )
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“Sounds like a plan,” she muttered back. In truth, of course, she would not have changed a thing if given a second chance. With a firm conscience she’d gone to Smoker in order to help the helpless, and Mitsuo seemed to fit pretty well into that category; it didn’t matter how many times some nut stalked them in the end.
At Giovanni’s taunting her eyes narrowed in great distaste, wings rustling restlessly. A very long time had been spent learning to keep her mouth shut. It was still near impossible and her jaw twitched with the effort, she had so many biting things she wanted to say to this stranger, but Heine was the primary target. She didn’t intend to mark herself with a giant bulls-eye just yet.
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It was the part of himself that felt no fear.
It took a half step to the side, placing itself slightly in front of Max. The movement cleared the door.
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Seemed so.
Again, he felt cornered. Bigger than Giovanni's threat alone, the possibility of the Dog reaching out to take over just as it did for a short period last time, becoming just as dangerous in terms of Mitsuo and Max. And he could already tell, that this particular confrontation wasn't about putting bullet holes into one another (although it rarely stopped them from doing it, anyway).
Heine weighed the options, weighed his personal agenda, and weighed Mitsuo and Max's presence. In the end, there was only one choice that was slightly less ludicrous in this situation out of all possible options.
"We need to get that stupid kid," he said quietly to Max, never taking his eyes off Giovanni. "And get the hell out of here now. You go in first." He really didn ( ... )
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Heine was already preparing for the worst, and Giovanni couldn't particularly blame him for it; he didn't precisely mean to leave this meeting without a bullet-hole or two, without their shared blood spread across the ground and the wall of the Archives. He looked between the pair, half-listening as Heine muttered his little orders, some more audible than others. What could Heine possibly have to say to her though, hahah, really. Run and steer clear? Fly away, little bird. Even the robot seemed to be taking protective measures for her, as though Heine wasn't the only one with a soft spot ( ... )
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She could sense Heine's tension. He'd had less when running towards the felled ogre, and that hound by Giovanni's side; nothing spelled well for any of them. Leaving any comrade of any kind behind to face this trouble went against every piece of her that screamed to stay and fight.
But then there was Mitsuo, who by all appearances couldn't fight. They'd come out for him, so she would see it through that he get away alive at the cost of nearly anything. Goals were necessary. Goals would keep her sane in this place.
Her eyes fixed on the gun's barrel. Nothing new, she reminded herself, despite the start that ran through her. Keep a steady beat.
"Go ahead. I'm a pro at this game."
Heine had simply said "Go". And she did, spinning behind Mitsuo's gestalt, leaping into the library, and side-stepping behind the walls before taking off to find their prince charming. Hopefully he had not hurt himself on something yet.
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Inside the Archives, Mitsuo had only made it across the first anteroom, before he reached another door he couldn't open on his own; he cowered there against it, barely aware of what his gestalt was doing.
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Upon reaching Mitsuo she grabbed his arm to pull him away from the locked door. No, she intended to go every which way, through every door and hallway she could find, so long as it meant getting out decently undead.
"Come on," she commanded sternly. "We've got ten seconds maybe."
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Mitsuo frowned at her, his hair in his vacant eyes and his mouth set in a petulant line.
"The door is locked," he said, as if that were the only choice. To sit and wait and die and hope for the best. His heart was racing, but his face was completely impassive.
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