Roleplay

It was the scent of blood that drew her attention first. Trista blinked open her hazy eyes, not seeing much in the small room she had taken roost in. Her lips moved, form noises too high-pitch for normal humans to hear. Images started to bounce back to her, showing her the tiny attic filled with broken furniture. Memories were started to come back now, bit by bit.

She had been flying again, bored and wandering the land. The clouds had come out of nowhere, gathering quickly in the distance. She could smell the rain on the air and feel the weight on the air growing heavier. She would not have had enough time to seek proper shelter so she had dived into the nearest abandoned town and found the darkest, smallest room she could find. This turned out to be an attic filled with dust and forgotten memories of a family that was no doubt dead and gone.

Trista stretched her wings as wide as she could in the tight space, which sadly was not very far. The large hole in the attic, the same one that she had come in from, let the cold breeze waft towards her, bringing to her again the scent of rain and blood.

There was a lot of blood. The sharp, copper scent made Trista cringe in horror as she imagined the pain the creature must be in. Making a decision based on her soft heart, Trista beat her wings several times before letting the air lift her up and give her flight.

Her large leathery wings beat in rhythm to her heart, lifting her out of the hideaway and into the cold rain. Her mouth opened as her tongue made a series of fast clicks so she could get an image of the area around her.

Following the heaviest scent of blood, Trista flew off. She hated flying in the rain. The wind was harsher, making it harder to keep her wings steady. The continuos rain drops mess with her echolocation too, giving her a wavy, hazy image of the world around her instead of the solid world she was use too. True, this weather was not the worse she had been in but Trista was still very young and she had trouble flying in normal weather. Lost in her thoughts, Trista forgot to keep track of the strange, metallic surroundings around her.

Her tongue clicked several times out of instincts, bringing forth a scary image. With an angry screech, Trista flapped her wings multiple times in an effort to slow her momentum down to avoid the building that was now looming in front of her. The sudden change in flight threw her body sideways, her sides just skimming the tall building before she lost her concentration and fell several feet down. Her wings beat wildly, trying to fix her body so it could be carried again but the panicking limbs just sending her body in an uncontrollable spiral.

Pain bloomed through her left shoulder and wing as it clipped the building by her side. Tears gathered in her eyes as the pain became more intense with each movement she made. With just seconds to spare, Trista managed to recover her form. Her wings were weak and trembling as they brought her to the floor. Her bare feet slammed harshly down on the cold, wet ground below her as her wings finally gave out. Her right wing wrapped tightly around her side as her left wing laid limp, dragging slightly on the ground.

She would be able to fly if she had too but it would be painful. Whimpering, Trista ran her hand over the fine fur of her damaged wing as she sniffed the air. The wind was being unkind to her, confusing her untrained sense of smell. The scent of blood seem to be coming from multiple directions, leaving her lost on where to go to help. The rain continued to pelt down, drenching her clothes as she looked around to try and make sense of the blurry world around her.

Marc gave an impressive growl as he hiked through the town. The rain continued to fall from the sky, adding unnecessary weight to his body and making him weary of flying. The feathers along his back trembled in an effort to shake off the water and his wings would not stop twitching. Mud was starting to cling to his pants and feathers, upsetting the aven even more as he thought of the amount of time he would have to spend to get his feathers back to their glistening glory.

The small city he found himself stranded in annoyed him. The buildings were falling apart, nature reclaiming the land it once lost. Chunks were missing or decorating the ground around him, creating unneeded obstacles. For a brief moment Marc considered flying to higher ground to wait out the weather but his wings twitched sadly at the thought, causing him to dismiss it.

He had been wandering for hours, searching for any supplies he could possibly take back to his nest. So far he had found some old canned food that should still be good and a wide variety of medical supplies. Normally he tried to treat injuries with herbal remedies or let them heal by themselves but it never hurt to save some of the man-made stuff.

The scent was faint at first, just a teasing trail on the wind. He would know the scent of blood anywhere and Marc found his path being altered so he could follow the smell. There was a lot of blood of that there was no doubt to that. If the creature was not dead yet, it would soon be and every creature had a use to Marc. Animals could be eaten and skinned for clothes and humans or human-hybrid usually carried supplies he could take. He was uncaring if the being actually lived or not, he just wanted what they could offer to him.

When the injured man came into view, Marc was not sure what to expect. The male was passed out just outside a ditch and the scent of blood came heavily from him. His sharp eyesight could pick up the feathers that the stranger had and he could clearly see the pair of black wings that sprouted from his back. A seemingly human girl was crouched by his side, looking like she was attempting to help him. His head cocked to the side as he watched the scene, unsure what to do.

Curious, and wanting first chance at any supplies should the other aven die, Marc crept forward. His feathers naturally bristled the closer he got in an attempt to appear larger in hopes of scaring the human off without a fight. His long claws clicked ominously on the ground as he tensed.

Catching the last of the girl’s words, Marc wondered if the two were possibly related or knew each other. He was a cruel man but he wold never separate close friends or families. He knew all too well that pain and he refused to inflict it on others. Keeping his hostile stance since he found himself unwilling to trust strangers, Marc decided to offer what little assistance he could.

“You have to stop the bleeding,” Marc’s deep voice rumbled as he manage to get just a few yards away from the strange duo. “He’ll bleed out otherwise.” Without thinking about it, Marc found himself rummaging through his rabbit-skin pouch and pulling out a roll of gauze that he had just found earlier. He stretched out his hand, offering it silently to the young girl.

@ShadowGuardian0 @RooibosInBlue

@QuickSilvr

"What were you saying, Ludovico? Something about Zosia dying in a skyscraper? Because it looks to me that she's dying right in front of us." Anise raised an eyebrow at the Ursed who looked slightly amused despite his obvious displeasure of the information not being as accurate as it should have been. "Make sure to have a conversation with the scouts, they're not doing their jobs if people are dying where they shouldn't be. Though I suppose this saves me a trip so don't go too hard on them."

The Picten turned her attention to the Aven, walking the small distance between them. "You look like crap." Anise stated it plainly, it had been some time since she had seen Zosia and she wasn't feeling particularly chummy. "I'd offer to fix you up but if I remember correctly you weren't overly fond of my help. Something about me being overbearing, wasn't it? I wouldn't want to make you feel smothered." The sarcasm practically dripped from Anise's words. Despite the fact that Zosia hadn't been around for quite some time Anise certainly didn't intend to leave her out on the street to die like the common imbeciles that still littered the area. It couldn't be called friendship exactly but the woman definitely felt more fondly towards her injured associate than she tended to feel towards anyone else.

@rooibosinblue
@quicksilvr
@jestergurl

Sariah gave a small groan and saw the girl dart after her bow and apparently leave. Each been shot, so that at least helped, both wanted to live and apoarently she had no more fight in her, whoever she was. She gave a sigh of relief, maybe she'd try to come back and kill her, but Sariah was covered in too much of her own blood to care at the moment, especially since she wounded her enemy enough to have an obvious pain.

It was thought that Avens with larger or multiple wings had two hearts, one just for the wings and one for the rest of the body. But she didn't know if she did, nothing felt too different, but occasionally she thought she felt something closer to her wings. Perhaps it was a smaller heart, but real doctors and good equipment were just about long gone.

She watched the area intently but saw no movement and finally gave up. She was too distracted for a proper overwatch position anyway. Overwatch, Crow had taught her that, he said that's a very important place to be. If there was an angle on the battlefield, he was sure there would be one there. He'd done it a few times, but he preferred to be up close in the enemie's face. He was a better shot than her with a rifle or even a pistol. He probably was really valuable to the military while he was in. He seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed it, at least.

She leaned back and layed on the roof of the building. She was too tired and cold for much else. Blood loss made her exhausting and made her colder than just the rain. She didn't have any supplies to help herself, so she'll just wait it out. Hopefully. Or another Aven will come and loot her body.

She drew her feet in and now wouldn't be visible except from a tall building or from above. There were a few of Avens so she'll probably get picked off soon, but she wouldn't go down without a fight.

She heard a small noise come from the side of the building and thought of a plan. There's quite a bit of blood around, no doubt this will now work to her advantage. She closed her eyes and splayed in a position that will make her look dead or closer to it than she was now. She posed her gun close, but not too close that she wouldn't be able to reach it quicky.

Now, she waited. Maybe it was a FlightKind or maybe an animal. Whatever it was, she'd get it.

---

Crow saw himself in a Helicopter. Helos or birds as they were called and even dustoff. The rotor wash was enough to whip sand around and get into any crevice or spray water and soak you.

It was a mission they were on, supposed to go kick in the door of the local baddie, drag him from his bed in the dark of night, and have evac before a single dog barked. But something happened and just as he slid down the roof, a machine gun opened fire and somehow got the rope. He fell and didn't even remember landing, he hit so hard. The mission went on and they got their man, he "resisted" and was subsequently beat, but he only remembers bits. He woke up when someone was dragging him, a corpsman, and the corpsman got hit. The crack of the bullet made him jump up. Luckily, the corpsman was wearing proper body armor and just had bruising.

He shot the attacker and they went to the rendezvous and made it in time. Everyone made it back with minor injuries and they got a few captives to get information from. Not quite how it was supposed to go, but what Uncle Sam wants, Uncle Sam gets.

Crow opened his eyes and immediately started to panic, two people were practically on top of him prodding at his neck. One was a large Aven, the other, a normal looking girl, but everyone living had something going on with them and she could be just as dangerous. The other girl... he'd met a girl not long ago... it must have been her. A nasty poison or venom, whatever it was, he tried to stay awake as these toxins sometimes worked better while you were out.

He swallowed hard and wasn't sure what to do, attack? Run? If he failed, the outcome would be undoubtedly worse, but success meant freedom and certainly life for now. He felt a slight headache return, but not nearly as bad as before and certainly manageable.

He looked at his gun. The magazine was full, safety off and a round was chambered. All he had to do was pull the trigger.
The gun was around his shoulders with a sling, so if he could get distance, the gun would come with him and he could fire.

But no doubt these people were here for a reason. He still had all his stuff, there was no knife sticking out of his sternum or other signs of attack, but they had bandages and other medical stuff. He usually helped people, but few strangers ever helped him, and half that did expected payment or it was a ploy to catch him off guard, it never worked, but still. kindness is never free anymore.

He cleared his throat and decided against an abrupt attack for now. "Who are you?" He asked them, sitting up. Not too aggressive as to raise alarm, but strong enough they knew he wasn't easy prey anymore.

In a split moment, he saw the face of an Ursed and flinched. Now he was seeing things. Must be the venom... His liver must be working overtime on this stuff.... good thing he never had drinking problems.

He had plenty of other weapons and could reach them in need be, but there appeared to be no imminent threat. He remained sitting, but ready to move if they tried anything.

@Theirin ((You write sarcasm so perfectly *Is very jealous*))

"You are actually wrong there Anise, my pride died in that skyscraper." Zosia said, flatly, "If your spies think getting shot in the shoulder means dead, well, then you might need some new spies. Who knows what else they tell you that isn't true." She stepped back slightly by the uncomfortable closeness of the prickly Picten before waiting out Anise's long, painful, sarcastic monologue with only a simple roll of her eyes and a deep breath that was a bit heavier than a normal sigh, crossing her arms when she finished.

"Thanks, I feel like it too..." she growled, some part of her wanting to stop backing away from Anise like she was weak, though she wasn't feeling very upbeat about her abilities now after breaking her no losses streak and she took one more small step back to where she had come. "No mom, you weren't smothering at all," She jabbed, deciding to answer Anise's sarcasm with sarcasm, not fully thinking through her response before throwing out the words.

Even with their jest, she couldn't help the feeling, but she still felt loyal to Anise, even if she had been a slight bit tyrannical. "Look, let me in Anise as long as you don't hold grudges, then we both don't stand to lose anything, just gain support." She examined the Picten, of course she was completely injury free. And she didn't look like she held too much malice towards her? Hopefully... "that Aven I was fighting is injured, and she must have some good stuff in that apartment." She flexed her wings, flinching with the pain that came from her left side. "I could have won, but this arachned showed up..." She said silently before adding in a more audible tone: "I'd love to go back and finish this, but I don't think I can get airborne again."

Marc watched through narrowed amber eyes, unsure exactly what to make of the situation. At first he had thought the neck wound was serious but looking at the other aven closely now, he felt conflicted. He was not use to healing as he was a lone bird and often avoiding confrontations so therefore, he was not injured often. The wound did not seem as serious as the scent of blood portrayed so Marc debated on the proper thing to do. It would be proper to continue his offer just in case they needed it but it was nearly unheard of for Marc to even think about offering rare supplies to anyone but himself.

So why did he do it? Birds of a feather, or something like that, Marc reasoned with himself. He was not a people person but he certainty enjoyed the company of avens more than the other species. His bird-like curiosity was also peeked by the human woman who was found not far from him. After all, who heard oh humans surviving in this time?

Marc glared harshly at the new male that had arrived. Marc had never been a dog fan, not even as a boy when all the other boys his age dreamed of owning a canine. In his opinion, those beasts were loud, dimly loyal and they often hunted birds. His hostile stance grew tenser as he eyed the fluffy white tail that came out of the male. Slyly he pulled back his own offered gauze and tucked it back in his rabbit-skin pouch seeing that someone else was willing to offer his own supplies instead. No need to waste supplies if someone else is willing to do it, Marc thought.

Lost in this thoughts, Marc was unaware of the other aven waking up or the young woman slowly retreating. Blinking, Marc emerged out of his thoughts at the sound of the aven’s questioning. His own claws clicked on the ground as he too took a step back to try and give the wounded man some room. Marc didn’t want to provoke an attack, not when Marc could spot the stranger close to a gun. Guns, in Marc’s opinion, were a cowardly but powerful weapon. It was an enemy that the loner normally tried to avoid as gunshots were a lot tougher to heal from and could end a life much quicker than a knife.

Marc relaxed his stance slightly, letting himself stand tall instead of the hunched crouch he was in before. His wings shuffled, the muscles wanting to stretch themselves out and shake off the water that was gathering alone his body. He chose to observe the conversation at first, learning the name of the woman before he considered giving his own name.

He dipped his head in brief respect towards the name called Pigeon. Such a weird name for one who does not seem to resemble a bird at all. “I think I may have been mistaken about the bleeding being a large issue too,” he quietly agreed.

Old human habits made him want to speak up and give out his own name but years of being alone and his own instincts stopped him. Names were unique and could connect you to many things including crimes or hideouts. These were strangers that Marc didn’t trust and fearing betrayal, Marc decided to wait on revealing his name. He did not plan on staying long, just long enough to make sure the other aven was okay and then he would hunt out shelter to stay in until the water stopped falling from the sky. His hated flying in the rain and he always had to spend hours afterwards cleaning out the water and mud. Speaking of which . . .

“How badly are you injured?”Marc asked gruffly. He was more concerned with the aven’s wings than anything else. A grounded bird is a tortured bird. If one could not feel the wind beneath their wings than it was better to be dead and Marc had no trouble ending another’s life. It was always better that way or so it was Marc’s firm belief.

@ShadowGuardian0 @XxTatsuxX @RooibosInBlue

@rooibosinblue
@jestergurl
@xxtatsuxx

Crow

Crow was astonished by these strangers. None really seemed to know eachother, but they all seemed willing to help. How odd. It made him nervous, kindness was not free.

He saw the girl flinch, she was a bit smaller than him, considerably so, I guess it was only natural. He cleared his throat, "I think I'm okay......just a headache and a little sore" he slowly stood up and balanced himself "There was a girl and an ursed, I think she had venom"

He looked around and gave his wings a long stretch "I think I can fly" he said "I was just going to an old friend's place" and he stood on his toes for a moment. His sense of balance was returning and that set him at ease.

He wasn't quite sure how to address the small group that formed, but he was grateful that he wasn't waking up strung from his legs and getting gutted like an animal.

"So....." he started " If anyone's planning on killing me, now would be the time. Otherwise, we should get out of the rain." He scanned the area looking for shelter, these were some buildings, but nothing he liked. Low ceilings and tight walls... he hated them.

He swung up his gun, but did not point it at anyone, just held it tight against his chest, and felt the urge to just kick off from the ground and fly. He didn't need room or to climb anything to take off, falcons were extremely agile and quick. They gained height quickly.

The rain wasn't too hard, but it was enough to make him seek cover, especially after waking up in a ditch, cold and wet. He saw sunshine in the distance, the rain was moving off, but not gone yet.

His senses returned and he fluffed up his wings and feathers, slowly flattening them to readjust them in proper position. Much better. His leadership qualities returned and he said "I think the Avens will be happier with an open, but dry area, there is a parking garage one block north of here and the ceiling is 20 ft, it's dry and empty, decent line of sight, and I know the way"

He didn't even pause to give his orders and started walking toward the parking garage. He gave a series of hand signals but stopped. The military was gone but he'd be a soldier until the day he died. He stopped him self from saying "Tactical Column", but instead said "Two column, stagger yourselves to not be perpendicular to the person across from you, left handed people with guns on the left, right handed on the right"

Who knew if they would follow, but he couldn't afford to waste time. Her apartments had quite a bit of gear and lots was hidden out of sight, so there would probably still be stuff to scavenge.

@rooibosinblue


You can go now.

Anise laughed at the Aven's comment, Zosia was still so eager to go out and fight. "Was it just your pride that got damaged or is your brain lacking something as well? Clearly you were outmatched or at the very least outnumbered, charging back into the fray is an idiot move. You're smarter than that. I don't have an issue fixing you up but if I'm just wasting my resources on someone who intends to get themselves killed off ten minutes in the future then I'd rather leave you here while you still have some shred of dignity left."

She gestured Ludovico over. The Ursed could help the Aven inside, he was more than strong enough. "All the fun I've had today has left me feeling a bit dried out, let's get inside." Anise went on ahead, leaving Vico with Zosia.

The Ursed shrugged slightly extending a hand to the injured woman, "I can carry you if you'd like, Miss Corr."

@QuickSilvr