No Going Back

[Lindsay Curie]

There’s little reaction as Darren rushes forward, blade raised high. Instead, she seems more focused on Jay, gaze settling idle as she idly lifts him off the ground and draws him closer. Single, large eye shifts softly as her head tilts, almost as if analyzing the boy. Thankfully, it seems she’s not giving Jay the same treatment as the last. In fact, if she had he way, she seems to want to take him. Alive.

“... Hm. Male, Human. Approximately one hundred and fifty to one hundred and sixty—“

As Darren’s blade sinks into the creature, she stops speaking. Her gaze drifts, first to the blade, then to the other male. There’s a hang here, as she stares flatly. Slowly, the strange, dark material that makes up her body seems to bubble up and around the blade, lethargically sucking it in. As it does, something in the air changes. There’s a feeling, only for a moment, like the air turning to cold, vile syrup. Enough to make one’s lungs ache, and their head spin.

“... pounds. Approximate height, sixty five to seventy inches. Estimated age, eighteen to twenty Terran—“

Another stop. This time, she actually seems upset about something. Jay can undoubtedly feel it, as sticky grip tightens sharply. The large eye watching Darren suddenly snaps wide, pupil quivering. It vibrates sharply, before splitting in two. They split again, four this time. Eight. Sixteen. Thirty two— it doesn’t stop. The pupils separate wildly, and in only a short second, golden gaze has gone black with rage. The eye closes. There’s a swirl on dark flesh as the socket rotates, and then it opens again, it’s teeth that greet the young Rogue. The gaping, sideways maw sits as open as the one above it, like a grim, horrid gramophone for the Overseer’s voice behind it.

”T҉̩̥̦ͅha͖t̼́ ̨̠̪̙̠̬ba̭s͓͚̲̰t̘̣͓͚͇̥̠́a͏̻͍̬r̝̞̕d̛̟̠̠̥̤͍.̖̹̣̫̪ͅ“

The grip on Jay finally loosens, dropping the boy as a pin of yellow lights in the back of this new mouth. It twists lightly, as if looking at Darren, before the voice comes back.

“You’re going to want to see a medic about that radiation poisoning.”

Her tone is practically clinical. Sterile and cold, as she turns towards Nasira and the newly-downed F—... the newly-downed target. She doesn’t wait to see whether or not Darren will hold onto his blade and keep it. There’s a new development on the field, something far more pressing than study.

There was a horrid little failure to murder.

[Darren]

Jay felt Lindsay slowly lift him up off the ground, and his desperation grew as he kicked and flailed, trying to break free of this alien's vice grip. His screams for help were still muffled by the vinyl-like material covering his face, but he could overhear her speaking... though what she was saying, he could not focus enough to hear. He was more concerned with getting away and not suffocating to death... he could feel his chest tightening, not just with panic, but with the struggle of drawing in air.

Darren's blade made contact with the alien. At first, he just grinned, triumphant that he had managed to land the swing... but his grin quickly turned to a grimace as the alien made contact with her single yellow eye.

"What the fuck?!" He could hear a terrible squelching and then he felt it hit him.

The air turned thick... Darren drew in a breath of shock, but immediately choked on it. It was sickly sweet and burned, it burned his throat and his lungs, and the boy felt himself gagging on the poisoned air. The lack of oxygen made his vision blur into one uniform color, ears deafened by a terrible whining white noise, and it felt like someone had driven an ice pick through his skull. He fell to his knees and shakily dropped the sword, dry heaving and squeezing his eyes shut.

The next moment, it eased. Darren greedily sucked in the now more breathable air, but his chest still shuddered and tightened in pain. He could hear and see again, though not very well. The sword he had let go of clattered to the ground, and Lindsay's form undergoes another change; a mouth sprouts from her head, and she yells out in anger. She finally releases Jay, and the boy falls to the ground, also gasping for air.

“You’re going to want to see a medic about that radiation poisoning.”

Wait... radiation? Was that what that was?! Oh god... did that mean he was going to die...?

Lindsay retreated. Darren was clutching his chest, still struggling for breath. He felt sick. His head was pounding. He almost didn't notice Jay rolling over after recovering from being suffocated in Lindsay's grasp and grabbing him.

"Darren? Darren! Oh my god, what happened? Are you okay?" Jay shook his boyfriend's shoulder, and Darren gagged a bit from the motion, just barely holding back another dry heave. "...What did that thing do to you?"

Honestly, he still wasn't sure what had just occurred. All he know was that everything hurt. "I should be the one asking you if you're okay," Darren rasped, throat raw from choking on the irradiated air that had leaked from Lindsay's punctured skin. "She didn't hurt you?"

"No, just grabbed my face. I don't know what she was planning to do with me, but I'm not gonna stick around to find out." Jay tilted his head slightly, staring into his boyfriend's now paled, sickly looking face. "...Did she hurt you?"

"...I... I don't know..." Darren was having a hard time thinking. Everything felt cloudy. "...I don't feel very good... she said... radiation... or something..." Darren tried to push himself up off the ground, but couldn't. Jay quickly helped him up and held him close, feeling Darren shake and sway from feeling weak.

"Oh Darren..." he whispered softly, rubbing his boyfriend's back. There was some kind of commotion happening with the Blackblood overseers, and there were still lots of screams of pain and gunshots. "We need to get off of the battlefield. You need to see a medic." He grabbed Darren's arm and quickly began to pull him to the edge of the battlefield, calling out for a medic.

[Nasira]

Nasira felt a sting in her back and let out a cry of fury. Her vision blurred, and the world turned sideways. She fell forward, sprawling gracelessly before the Rogue, her staff lost.

Dazed and bleeding, Nasira looked up at Frollo aghast, shocked into speechlessness by what he had just done. Even she would not have believed it possible to have Frollo betray them so completely. 

"Too bad you were unable to banish me, foul necromancer! But no matter."

Nasira growled and tried to rise, but every muscle and bone in her body rebelled at the movement, and a moan escaped her. It was no use; she was as weak as a kitten. It took a great deal of her willpower not to flinch in anticipation as she felt the tremor of the Friesian's hooves as Frollo neared her. She had been able to summon the courage to stand before a blade, but the thought of being trampled by hooves was more than she could bear. All she could do was try and prepare herself.

"Filth!" Nasira snarled. She could taste blood in her mouth where she had bitten her tongue. "I will find you, traitor, and I will see to it that it takes you a very long time to die!"

"No match, you said. Yet here we are. You have lost the upper hand, and one of your men has betrayed you."

Nasira blearily looked up at the Rogue in a stunned shock, slowly taking in her otherworldly form. "No-!"

"It would be in your best interest to leave, while you still can."

She desperately tried to get up again, but her legs would not support her. There was a flash of light, and all five of her senses exploded in agony.

[Tucker]

Tucker watches as Kula takes the traitor off his horse with one graceful leap. Eager to aid his fellow soldier the shepherd darts forward as the two figures crash to the ground instantly his jaws crush down around the priest’s leg careful to avoid Kula’s claws, he would allow her the killing blow after all this stupid man had put them through. Tucker was content with mauling the shit out of his leg.

[Crow]

  The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

  Crow's thoughts had inevitably carried him back to Australia, and the first time he'd taken a more active role in the Legion's expansion. As he watched the Rogues meet the Legion in force, he could say that he had, for the most part, seen most of it coming. It hadn't taken long for one particular person of interest to arrive; she was the Rogues' golden girl, after all. He had been looking forward to introducing himself ever since her little stunt in the outback, and repay her in kind for what she had done to his flock.

  Diablo circled back around to a hidden back alley, where an abnormally large murder of crows had gathered. Maleficent's pet vanished amongst them, and then like a singular hive mind, the dark mass shifted and surged, pushing upward into a new shape. Hundreds of little eyes melted into the sea of black feathers, and once the inky mass seemed satisfied with its new towering height, an elongated skull pierced through the dark shape. A massive pair of wings peeled themselves away from the body, and a pair of cold, vibrant lights flickered into being within the dark sockets of his skull.

  Crow stretched, much in the way one does when they've been cramped into a small space for too long. His massive wings lifted up, up, up... and with a heavy beat they pushed downward, lifting the creature off his feet and sending a gust to rattle the windows around him. He was looking forward to this. Everything was going predictably.

  He only wished it had stayed that way.

  As Crow returned to the thick of the battle, the first thing to greet him was Frollo losing his damn mind, and Nasira dropping to a heap on the ground. Crow was not often the sort to let anger cloud his judgment, but this was an offense beyond himself. This was betrayal. This was blasphemy. This was spitting in the face of his Mistress, after she had so graciously given him a second chance.  A chance that he clearly did not, nor would he ever deserve.

  The angel had taken advantage of the new opportunity, and was looming over Nasira.

  Crow's wings tucked in close to his body, and he dove, coming to a sharp landing between the Rogue and the Overseer. As much as he would have preferred digging his talons into Frollo then and there, he took grim satisfaction in the Legionnaires that were quick to retaliate in his stead. For now, he would satisfy himself with his original object of offense.

"That is mine now, you will let it go."

  "I would worry more about yourself, if I were you." Crow's wings folded loosely over his back, ready to spread again at a moment's notice. His body loomed protectively over Nasira, careful to step around her. "Unless you intend to feed him to the Underworld's hound, in which case please, do go on. B̭̣̜̙͝ e͙̤̘͉ ҉̪̪̗͈͎ m҉̱ y̛̬ ̠ g̻̼̯̭̰ u̦͚̮̘̣ e s̩ t̴̺̖̘͎̯̲.̢̰̫̣̭̜ͅ." Every word dripped in self-righteous malice, which only accentuated against the deep rumble of his new voice.  His real voice.

[Scruffy]

Scruffy would not have believed it had she not seen it for herself. The guy who was supposed to be leading them had inexplicably pledged his allegiance to the Rogues and like a big coward, attacked Nasira from behind. Scruffy stood paralyzed as she watched the necromancer fall. For a moment she was glad Scar was not alive to see this. Her king would have pulled them out of Agrabah faster than she could say "Montana Banana!" 

Frollo dug his heels in, cuing Snowball forward to presumably trample the other overseer while she was still down. The gelding obliged, kicking up a cloud of dust and earth. Scruffy could feel the drumming of his hooves in the ground beneath her paw pads. She realized desperately that she could not get to her before the horse did and stood still in a sick panic. 

Suddenly, there was a collective roar of anger. At the last instant, the horse swerved away from Nasira as Kula slammed into the rider, knocking him clean off of his saddle. Scruffy cheered. Kula was so cool!

"I'll get Snowball!" she said decisively as Kula and Tucker viciously tore Frollo a new one. The likelihood of Frollo remounting his steed was slim. Scruffy knew Kula would show him no mercy for what he did to Scar, and Tucker had enough justification, but better safe than sorry. Without his horse, Frollo could not escape the swift fang of justice.

But Snowball was having none of that. The gelding looked suspiciously at Scruffy, his ears back and nostrils flared. He was not keen to cooperate with anyone apart from his master, let alone a lion. He broke into a gallop as a shadow as big as a cloud suddenly enveloped the city.

"NO!" Scruffy was in hot pursuit, but she had trouble keeping up. "Snowball, stop!" she yelled. "SNOWBALL!!!" But Snowball had been trained to charge at yelling hordes, and he did not so much as flinch at the sight of Scruffy nor her shouting. 

[Kula]

To say Kula was ecstatic to taste Frollo's blood was a massive understatement. This was the man who had left her father to die in favor of his own cowardice and had offered not remorse but excuse after feeble excuse. Now he'd betrayed them? The Blackblood Legion, who had so graciously let him live for his crime??

He was a self-righteous bastard. The death he deserved would not come swiftly, not if Kula had anything to say about it. Her jaws closed not over his windpipe -- far too easily crushed -- but around his shoulder. Like the dogs she'd witnessed training in Agrabah Kula tore her head from side to side, taking solace in the scrape of her fangs against shoulder bone as she worried Frollo's limp body like a rat. She'd tear his flesh apart until he resembled living hamburger, let him enjoy that as long as it took him to bleed out with her tearing his limbs off.

A flash of light caused the lioness to screw her eyes shut as she hunkered down over her prey, body tight and tensed. What now? Fireballs already had turned the battlefield into scattered infernos, threatening building and combatants alike. Watering emerald eyes squinted open a slit to behold a massive figure looming over the field -- and specifically over her.

Kula's eyes widened in panic as she instinctively curled herself even tighter over her prize, growling weakly. What. What the fuck. This was so beyond her paygrade. This thing wanted her to let go? Common sense would dictate that yes, let's obey the monstrous giant mask-bird-thing before it crushes us.

But Kula wanted Frollo's suffering.

Defiance sparked from the lioness' gaze as she bit down harder, cracking through the human's thin clavicle. No!! She refused to hand over her chance at vengeance!!

Jaws clamped over Frollo she tried to scuttle away a bit, eyes wary of the nub that reached for her. The body she held proved too difficult to escape with however and agony flared through Kula's body. Jolting, shocky agony forced her jaws open and her muscles to lock simultaneously.

With a strangled, bubbling cry Kula fell to her side, eyes wide and fearful as her body simply jerked and seized.

[Emily]

Emily had not been expecting to enter a full-blown war zone when she had returned from London to retrieve what meagre belongings she had. So, the sight of so many of her now brother/sisters-in-arms in a fight for their lives made her instantly drop what she was carrying and without thinking charge headlong into the fray herself. The instinct to fight was instant and overpowering. Some deeper, more primal part of her brain was urging her that this was where she should be. To fight was her purpose. It was the reason she existed at all.

No sooner had she emerged from the shadows than a screech caused her to turn her head only to see a lioness charging in her direction, seemingly not even realising she was there. A part of her brain couldn’t help the immediate sense of panic because this was a lion. A talking lion. An apex predator and she was charging directly at her with no seeming intent on stopping or swerving to avoid her.

On instinct, she raised her had as if motioning the lioness to stop. Immediately a barrier sprung from her fingertips, almost invisible except for the shimmer like heat haze that gave away that it was present. If the lioness didn’t swerve, then she was in for a very abrupt and very painful stop if she ran headlong into it.