(Untitled)

[majorum_pride]

Who: Gaheris Rhade and Rachel Berenson
What: Another thread that's entirely too short.
When: Early this morning.
Where: The Deck
Warnings & Notes: Creepiness and mild violence.

Comments

[yeerkwarveteran]

Things were falling apart.

She had to save them. AS many of them as possible, human or not human and this individual was...not human in the slightest. Long curved blades coming from his elbows, intense thoughtful look.

This Will Graham wouldn't be the best choice for it. So she stepped back and away and pulled out Carl Applegate's clothes. It took less then a minute for her to morph.

She was big and powerful and far more confident. One of the more useful things that she'd grabbed had been Graham's gun.

She wouldn't use it. She'd never use it unless the last possible resort, but at this point she wanted to tear things apart with her bare hands. Preferrably with claws.

A smile tugged at Applegate's face as he took up a space a bit to the side of Rhade. Ash flakes settled in his hair hands clenched on the railing.

[majorum_pride]

The form that joined Rhade to his side was stocky, burly, and for a moment he suspected Blonsky. "There's someone up here with us," he said evenly, before turning-

And it was her. Him. Her.

His nostrils flared, mismatched scent taking priority over the lingering odor of death and those boneblades flared out at the sides. "Are you doing this?" It came out more like an accusation than a question. He wasn't who he looked like. He was someone else. She. Him.

It didn't matter. Whatever was in front of him was a lie and everything around him was a threat. With a swift jerk those bony protrusions were near her throat, sharp and threatening.

[yeerkwarveteran]

Rachel had only the bare minimum of skill when it came to fighting. That was where the gun came in.

In one smooth motion, Rachel had it out and pressed against his temple.

"Am I doing this? No. No."

"I'm trying to stop this. I'm trying to save you. The yeerks are doing this."

She cocked the gun, "I have to help you."

She sounded almost...regretful.

[majorum_pride]

He set his jaw as he felt the cold metal against his temple, pondering his reaction time. "The yeerks aren't the one holding a gun to my head." But after a moment, he drew back his arm.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end again. They were watching them. The muscles along his neck tensed with a hard swallow, like he was gulping down his entire sense of pride.

"And you're not what I'm looking at." He raised his hands as he stepped back slowly, palms out and in (temporary) surrender.