Somewhere in Eastern Europe (Hopefully?), Late Saturday Night
It was a good thing that it didn't matter, because Triela did snort softly.
Then Karla called out and Triela moved. The men may have been suspicious of the two girls, but not nearly suspicious enough. They stared in confusion as Karla took off at a run. And because their attention was on the moving girl, they missed Triela's pistol coming out of her shoulder holster.
In fact, the first hint of danger was the shockingly-loud double crack of two shots aimed at the nearest armed man's head. He crumpled without ever realizing he was dead. The one next to him had just enough time to be surprised before he went down too.
Two more of the men were down before Triela moved from where she was standing, sprinting after Karla. "Cover me," she called as she reached for one of her spare magazines.
One third of her ammo spent, and over half of the men were still standing.
Karla
Karla reached the back of the van just as Triela called for cover. She spun around to face Triela--and the shocked males that were trying to figure out just what the Hell had happened. Karla allowed herself a grim smile; they were about to get even more confused.
The first thing she did was create a flurry of witchlights, scattering them around the camp. She wasn't sure how well Triela could see in the dim light, but she couldn't see a damn unless she was looking directly where the headlights were illuminating. Sure, it would help the males, too, but hopefully the witchlights would startle them more.
Regardless, the witchlights proved to be a good idea. The first thing she saw as she scanned the now-lit clearing was one of the males bringing his gun to bear on Triela. "Oh no you don't!" Karla snapped, sending a blast of Sapphire-power at him. The power incinerated his mind at the same time it shattered most of his bones. To her left, another male was yelling something in their funny language--probably trying to organize. Well, they couldn't have that, now could they? She called in four of her knives and whipped them at him with Craft. They embedded themselves in a straight line: forehead, throat, and two in the torso. He sagged to the ground.
A shot rang out, hitting the side of the van. From the inside came a chorus of frightened, girlish screams.
Triela
It had only been a few seconds, and already half of the men were down. Unfortunately, of the remaining six, four had assault rifles. If Triela had had a gun with more capacity, she could have hit them all before they could react, but the need to reload meant that some of them were already taking aim.
The shot which hit the van also made it clear that using the van as cover was a bad plan. Too much of a chance that someone would get hit inside. "Get them out!" Triela yelled at her companion as she abruptly changed direction, heading for the treeline.
She had to fire two rounds over her shoulder to make sure the men kept their attention on her. Five rounds left in the clip, one spare clip... Good thing Karla was on the scene for when she ran out of ammo.
Karla
Karla dove into the van, using Craft to pass through the doors. Inside she found five young girls, ranging from about her age to surely no more than eight. They were huddled together, crying, and talking in that odd language that the males had used. When they ducked away from her, the movement was accompanied by the clink of chains. Cuffs around their wrists and ankles, bolted to the floor of the van.
"It's okay, it's okay," Karla promised, ignoring the sound of gunfire from outside. "Do any of you speak Kael--English?"
They looked back at her with big eyes. Maybe the answer was no, maybe they were still in shock and panic from the noises outside. Either way, Karla wasn't going to get a lot out of them. Fine. It wasn't ideal, but Karla didn't actually need their cooperation.
She reached for one of the girls, trying to damp down the rage she felt when the girl instinctively flinched back. Making soothing noises, she gently took the girl's arm and examined the chain down to the floor. Very thick. Of course. This was going to take awhile. "Let's get this off of you, huh?" Seconds later, sparks were shooting off from one of the links in the chain, not too far from the cuff around her ankle.
Another shot rocked the van. Growling low in her throat, Karla glared at the the interior wall for a moment. Outside, the van was suddenly surrounded by a bright, sparkling blue shield.
Triela
Triela had emptied her pistol again and three more men were down. Which left her with one final magazine and three armed men to spend it on. The shield was a relief, though. It meant that, as long as it held, there was no need to worry about collateral damage. And it also served as a nice distraction so that she could reload.
Another man went down with two shots in the head before the last two remembered the girl with the gun and opened fire. Because she'd run from the van, Triela didn't have much in the way of cover. She spun into a low crouch and returned fire.
She could (and had, in the past) absorbed dozens of pistol rounds in a firefight, but the AKs were a different matter. She could take a few, but they hit harder. Much harder.
Three things happened at once. The man on the right's head exploded as Triela finally managed to draw a bead on him. Triela felt the sharp tugging sensation in her arm that signaled that she'd been shot. Pain suppressants automatically flooded her system, it didn't hurt, but her arm wasn't moving right. And her pistol slide locked back on empty for the last time.
Karla
Karla was freeing the feet of the third girl when she felt a surge of victory from outside. Problem was, it wasn't Triela's psychic scent that she was feeling.
And then she realized she didn't hear Triela's gun anymore. Those things together were a bad sign.
"I'll be a Harpy in Hell first," Karla hissed, standing up and spinning around. The doors of the van blew open before her, the lock shattering and the metal of the doors warping outwards. She spared a glance for Triela, seeing her bleeding profusely from her arm, but most of her attention was directed towards the last male, who was already bringing his gun to bear.
"No," she said. And the gun turned white hot in his hand. With a shriek, he dropped it, his flesh already blistering. She reached an arm out, fist clenching as if she'd grabbed something and jerked her hand up. The male screamed again as he was lifted into the air. Karla's arm trembled with the weight of holding something that heavy aloft, even with Craft, but she took a moment to smile at him. "Give my regards to the High Lord," she said, before flinging him into a tree, headfirst. There was a sickening crack the male flopped to the ground, his head tilted at an unnatural angle.
"I gave you a shield," Karla snapped, not even looking at Triela.
Triela
The wound in Triela's arm was actually pretty ugly. The bullet had ripped through her hardened skin, torn through the enhanced muscle of her bicep, deflected off of the alloy-strengthened bone underneath, and torn back out through muscle and skin. The extensive blood spatter hid the small piece of shattered plastic that had exited Triela's arm along with the bullet. It was a through-and-through, so she wouldn't need to remove the bullet, but she did need to do something about the bleeding.
Blood ran down her arm, soaking through her sleeves, and just as Karla began scolding, some of it reached her cuff link. At which point a shield sprang into place around her.
"There," Triela responded calmly. "It works."
Karla
And then Karla facepalmed. "Before the fight, Triela! Before the fight!"
It was like the girl didn't understand the concept of shield or something.
"Lower the shield so I can make sure you don't bleed to death," Karla said, rolling her eyes. "Just concentrate on the image of it going down, okay? That should work."
Of course, as soon as the shield went down, Karla was going to hug the Hell out of Triela. And then maybe throttle her a bit.
[I'm pretty sure you've all caught on by now, buuuuut...NFI, NFB, OOC is love. Continued from here. Preplayed by the splendorous and awe-inspiring sorella_veccia. Part 6 of eleventy billion and twelve. Warning for violence.]
Then Karla called out and Triela moved. The men may have been suspicious of the two girls, but not nearly suspicious enough. They stared in confusion as Karla took off at a run. And because their attention was on the moving girl, they missed Triela's pistol coming out of her shoulder holster.
In fact, the first hint of danger was the shockingly-loud double crack of two shots aimed at the nearest armed man's head. He crumpled without ever realizing he was dead. The one next to him had just enough time to be surprised before he went down too.
Two more of the men were down before Triela moved from where she was standing, sprinting after Karla. "Cover me," she called as she reached for one of her spare magazines.
One third of her ammo spent, and over half of the men were still standing.
Karla
Karla reached the back of the van just as Triela called for cover. She spun around to face Triela--and the shocked males that were trying to figure out just what the Hell had happened. Karla allowed herself a grim smile; they were about to get even more confused.
The first thing she did was create a flurry of witchlights, scattering them around the camp. She wasn't sure how well Triela could see in the dim light, but she couldn't see a damn unless she was looking directly where the headlights were illuminating. Sure, it would help the males, too, but hopefully the witchlights would startle them more.
Regardless, the witchlights proved to be a good idea. The first thing she saw as she scanned the now-lit clearing was one of the males bringing his gun to bear on Triela. "Oh no you don't!" Karla snapped, sending a blast of Sapphire-power at him. The power incinerated his mind at the same time it shattered most of his bones. To her left, another male was yelling something in their funny language--probably trying to organize. Well, they couldn't have that, now could they? She called in four of her knives and whipped them at him with Craft. They embedded themselves in a straight line: forehead, throat, and two in the torso. He sagged to the ground.
A shot rang out, hitting the side of the van. From the inside came a chorus of frightened, girlish screams.
Triela
It had only been a few seconds, and already half of the men were down. Unfortunately, of the remaining six, four had assault rifles. If Triela had had a gun with more capacity, she could have hit them all before they could react, but the need to reload meant that some of them were already taking aim.
The shot which hit the van also made it clear that using the van as cover was a bad plan. Too much of a chance that someone would get hit inside. "Get them out!" Triela yelled at her companion as she abruptly changed direction, heading for the treeline.
She had to fire two rounds over her shoulder to make sure the men kept their attention on her. Five rounds left in the clip, one spare clip... Good thing Karla was on the scene for when she ran out of ammo.
Karla
Karla dove into the van, using Craft to pass through the doors. Inside she found five young girls, ranging from about her age to surely no more than eight. They were huddled together, crying, and talking in that odd language that the males had used. When they ducked away from her, the movement was accompanied by the clink of chains. Cuffs around their wrists and ankles, bolted to the floor of the van.
"It's okay, it's okay," Karla promised, ignoring the sound of gunfire from outside. "Do any of you speak Kael--English?"
They looked back at her with big eyes. Maybe the answer was no, maybe they were still in shock and panic from the noises outside. Either way, Karla wasn't going to get a lot out of them. Fine. It wasn't ideal, but Karla didn't actually need their cooperation.
She reached for one of the girls, trying to damp down the rage she felt when the girl instinctively flinched back. Making soothing noises, she gently took the girl's arm and examined the chain down to the floor. Very thick. Of course. This was going to take awhile. "Let's get this off of you, huh?" Seconds later, sparks were shooting off from one of the links in the chain, not too far from the cuff around her ankle.
Another shot rocked the van. Growling low in her throat, Karla glared at the the interior wall for a moment. Outside, the van was suddenly surrounded by a bright, sparkling blue shield.
Triela
Triela had emptied her pistol again and three more men were down. Which left her with one final magazine and three armed men to spend it on. The shield was a relief, though. It meant that, as long as it held, there was no need to worry about collateral damage. And it also served as a nice distraction so that she could reload.
Another man went down with two shots in the head before the last two remembered the girl with the gun and opened fire. Because she'd run from the van, Triela didn't have much in the way of cover. She spun into a low crouch and returned fire.
She could (and had, in the past) absorbed dozens of pistol rounds in a firefight, but the AKs were a different matter. She could take a few, but they hit harder. Much harder.
Three things happened at once. The man on the right's head exploded as Triela finally managed to draw a bead on him. Triela felt the sharp tugging sensation in her arm that signaled that she'd been shot. Pain suppressants automatically flooded her system, it didn't hurt, but her arm wasn't moving right. And her pistol slide locked back on empty for the last time.
Karla
Karla was freeing the feet of the third girl when she felt a surge of victory from outside. Problem was, it wasn't Triela's psychic scent that she was feeling.
And then she realized she didn't hear Triela's gun anymore. Those things together were a bad sign.
"I'll be a Harpy in Hell first," Karla hissed, standing up and spinning around. The doors of the van blew open before her, the lock shattering and the metal of the doors warping outwards. She spared a glance for Triela, seeing her bleeding profusely from her arm, but most of her attention was directed towards the last male, who was already bringing his gun to bear.
"No," she said. And the gun turned white hot in his hand. With a shriek, he dropped it, his flesh already blistering. She reached an arm out, fist clenching as if she'd grabbed something and jerked her hand up. The male screamed again as he was lifted into the air. Karla's arm trembled with the weight of holding something that heavy aloft, even with Craft, but she took a moment to smile at him. "Give my regards to the High Lord," she said, before flinging him into a tree, headfirst. There was a sickening crack the male flopped to the ground, his head tilted at an unnatural angle.
"I gave you a shield," Karla snapped, not even looking at Triela.
Triela
The wound in Triela's arm was actually pretty ugly. The bullet had ripped through her hardened skin, torn through the enhanced muscle of her bicep, deflected off of the alloy-strengthened bone underneath, and torn back out through muscle and skin. The extensive blood spatter hid the small piece of shattered plastic that had exited Triela's arm along with the bullet. It was a through-and-through, so she wouldn't need to remove the bullet, but she did need to do something about the bleeding.
Blood ran down her arm, soaking through her sleeves, and just as Karla began scolding, some of it reached her cuff link. At which point a shield sprang into place around her.
"There," Triela responded calmly. "It works."
Karla
And then Karla facepalmed. "Before the fight, Triela! Before the fight!"
It was like the girl didn't understand the concept of shield or something.
"Lower the shield so I can make sure you don't bleed to death," Karla said, rolling her eyes. "Just concentrate on the image of it going down, okay? That should work."
Of course, as soon as the shield went down, Karla was going to hug the Hell out of Triela. And then maybe throttle her a bit.
[I'm pretty sure you've all caught on by now, buuuuut...NFI, NFB, OOC is love. Continued from here. Preplayed by the splendorous and awe-inspiring sorella_veccia. Part 6 of eleventy billion and twelve. Warning for violence.]