lucetilogs | Zompania Draft - Draftees and Reinforcements, mid-day 4-early 7

Days 4-5

[Sheena shoulders the necessity of jumping to the battlefield without a second thought. That's how it has to be; people who matter a lot to her are down there fighting and they have been for days. She's wearing a communicator in one ear when she jumps, determined if not fearless. Luck is on her side in that moment, because she lands near enough to the main battle front to get herself into the fray quickly.

Either they didn't get a good briefing about the situation or she wasn't listening when they did; once she has a handle on the situation, she'll start trying to bring down any Cultist she sees going after someone who can't handle themselves against the large-winged soldiers anymore. Sheena's fast and, when warranted, deadly competent and precise.

In the event that she comes across Shikamaru on day 4 while he's in the process of taking a group to hunt for Davis, she'll send an "I'm going with them" message across her ear-radio and go.

By the end of the fifth day, she's dragging - and so is everyone else, so she tries not to let it get to her. She hasn't stopped and she hasn't had some kind of panic-induced meltdown; what she puts her heart into is bringing people back to safety alive as much as she can. If that means a few reckless moments of fighting, then so be it. She's ready.]

Day 6

[The cultists push the offensive, for real, for the first time since the reinforcements arrived. Sheena finds herself cornered in a half-ruined building, maybe alone, maybe not - she hasn't had time to find out if anybody holed up in here overnight. If they did, they're in for one hell of a fight, Shift Hunters coming in down both accessible hallways and cultist soldiers waiting outside for their hunted prey.

The big-guns reinforcements will help some. At the end of the day Sheena looks satisfied in her purposeful half-stagger to the waiting ship; if she passes someone who needs help walking (or is light enough to piggyback), she'll stop to offer a shoulder to lean on.]

[On the fifth straight day of fighting, he's running on empty. What keeps him going is the knowledge that if he stops, he's as good as dead - he ain't ready for that again so soon.

But now he's hit a wall: he's out of gas. Literally, out of gas, and he learns this as he's trying to slip away from an oncoming patrol of cultists, to gain a better vantage point from which to fight. When he pulls the triggers, he...stays exactly where he is. Shit. Shit. There isn't time to do anything else but throw together a weak Plan B: turn and prepare a defensive stance with his blades crossed.]

[It's coincidence that brings Sheena to his position. She's on a low rooftop, scouting out what there is to scout, and catches the tail end of his botched escape attempt and the resulting turn to face the patrol.

Sheena drops, not misjudging the distance for once, and rolls through her landing to stand a couple feet behind him.]

Need a hand?

[He didn't hear her land, so when a voice startles him from behind, he turns with one blade brandished and the other still pointing towards the cultists on the other side. As his nerves erode away in a battle that drags on endlessly, the look on his face has slipped from soldier to something more like cornered animal - but his panic dulls around the edges once he realizes that she's on his side, and he takes his blade back.]

Uh...thanks.

[But get ready for cultists in 5, 4, 3...]

[No threatening your rescuer, Jean.

Sheena knows what panic looks like. She's seen a mirror. Instead of pulling out cards to fight with, she draws a set of long fighting knives.]

Don't worry about it. Are you good to fight?

[Might not be any time to answer that one.]

[Sorry, Sheena. The shortage of sleep is making him twitchy more than sluggish, like this is all just a nightmare he's constantly jerking awake from and falling back into. He doesn't have time to answer with anything but a forceful nod and a hardened expression, which his panic still leaks through, as the first cultist to close in on them clashes with his blades.

Just stay alive, focus on that, on surviving, on seeing the next day--]

[There isn't much luck to go around on this draft, but a chip of it must belong to them, because the patrol is small, this time. Sheena rushes a different cultist, close-combat specialist that she is; years of fighting these guys and an acrobatic style that outpaces someone with larger cumbersome wings keeps her from serious injury as long as she can take a cultist out quickly.

She doesn't have time to keep an eye on Jean, not when there are cultists "waiting" to attack them - Sheena thinks they're just watching for amusement, thinking these two will go down easily - and she tosses a seal into the midst of the rest of the patrol, an explosive tag that stirs up smoke.

It will buy them some time, but not much.]

[He can feel his muscles aching and straining in protest as he continues to block the cultist's attacks, but he knows if he lets up even a little, he's dead meat. Or at least tenderized meat.

His opening comes when Sheena throws the seal that explodes into a smokescreen. The cultist throws a startled glance over his shoulder to check on his comrades, Jean (also caught off guard by the explosion, but having the advantage of already facing that direction) untangles their blades and side-steps to slash at the cultist's wings.]

[It makes sense that this guy's tired. Sheena's tired too. She changes her internal tactics, set on getting away from the patrol instead of killing them all. That'll be enough this time.

Of course, the cultist she's fighting has to die first. Once he's down, wings removed, she turns to join Jean in dealing with his.]

I've got a really serious emergency plan if we can't get outta this. [She tries to keep her voice down as much as she can.] But you'll have to kinda be in charge afterward if I do it.

[As the cultist crumbles to his knees, Jean tries not to wince at the blood that splatters out unevenly, because he should be used to this by now. The smoke is starting to thin, and the rest of the patrol will be on them soon.

Keeping his blades up, he throws Sheena a questioning look. He only just met this woman, but there's no room to do anything but put his trust in her, so he nods, in one decisive snap that probably makes him look more put-together than he really is.]

We'll have to try it. You don't have anything too crazy in mind, do you?

[As he talks, he switches his blades, letting the dulled ones clatter to the ground and slamming the handles to his sheathes to take up a fresh pair. His last one, but thank god cultists' flesh yields more easily than titans'. He doesn't want to think about that too much.]

[Well well. Look at those weapons. Sheena is impressed. She gets serious all at once again, considering their situation and how outnumbered they are - and the layout of the city as far as she knows it. What damage certain choices might cause. Maybe she always knew she would go for numbers over anything else...]

Okay, you've just gotta keep them away from me until I'm done. It shouldn't take too long. And yeah, it might look a little crazy, but don't worry about that.

[Sheena is a little crazy herself. She steps back, behind Jean and to his left, and the ground beneath her lights up in swirling glyphs tinted bright green.]

[He follows her with his eyes, even though he should be pointing them elsewhere right now, and his eyebrows jump up as the glyphs light up the dull stone pavement. Some kind of magic, alright-- He'll just have to put his trust in what he doesn't understand.]

Got it!

[He tears his gaze back to the front just in time to intercept a cultist, as the remains of the smokescreen dissipate into thin air. As he pushes one back with the broad side of his blades, another rushes him - dodge, block, slash, a bloody juggling act.]

[Sheena is too far into summoning to pay him as much attention as she needs to; with a final shout, three winged entities appear from the bright light generated by the glyph. She remembers fighting Sylph, how hard they had to work in order to bring down three of them; with any luck at all, it will be just as hard for the Cultists to deal with them now.

Sheena herself is momentarily out of the fight as their conduit - she'll defend herself if any cultist draws close - but their happy chirpy combat-ready voices say they'll more than make up for one ninja's absence.]

[As he fights, he tries to deaden himself to the pain he hears too loudly and sees too clearly in the enemies he cuts down with a precision that errs on the side of sparing their lives - tries to will into existence an anesthesia for the part of him that values living above anything else, because he's sane enough to value his own life most of all, and he's sure the violence he must create to save himself will drive him crazy if he stays this hyper-aware of every drop of blood.

When the spirits appear, he throws around a surprised look, wondering - in the space of a few seconds, because that's all he has as he dodges another cultist's spear by a hair - where the hell they came from. That weird, lit-up circle she had going? But the gratingly cheerful trio are fighting on their side, and that's all that matters to him right now.]

[Working together, the Sylph spirits incapacitate Cultists one by one, taking very little damage in return; they're spirits, after all. They do not have infinite presence in this plane, let alone this world, and so they leave just two for Jean to deal with before they vanish.

For Jean to deal with, because Sheena's on one knee on the ground, trying to keep her guard up instead of checking out for a minute. It's so much harder to summon here and keep her bearings afterward.]

[He ends up nicked in the side by a sword he wasn't quick enough to side-step, but despite the dark bloom of blood leaking through his shirt just below the hem of his jacket, the laceration underneath is shallow enough. Just keep going, grit your teeth and keep going--

A desperate downward slash through the wings makes quick work of one of the remaining cultists. The last one descends on him as soon as he pivots away from the falling body; when he blocks, his wound screams bloody murder through his side. A short scuffle later, and Jean's blades connect again.

He doesn't watch the body hit the ground. He turns immediately to see where the woman is, half limping, half jogging to her side, slamming the blades back into their compartments in the sheathes.]

Hey! You okay? [His face is pale, his eyes trying not to be too wide.]

[Shaky, but nowhere near passing out yet, Sheena nods and looks up at Jean. Oh, boy, does she ever know that expression.]

Yeah, I'll be fine. [But he isn't, a visual once-over shows her blood on his shirt and panic in his eyes.] You got hurt, though. Let's find somewhere we can both sit down, okay?

[She told him he would have to be the one in charge for a while and it looks like that's not happening, not the way she thought it would. Sheena gets to her feet, using stuff for support instead of Jean, not wanting to knock him over.]

[The panic is more for the bodies littering the ground than himself. Are they already dead, or is the life still draining out of them, pooling somewhere like their blood? His stomach lurches and he swallows dryly.]

I've gotten worse than this.

[But his voice is strained through clenched teeth as he yanks his arms out of his jacket and ties it over his wounded side in a makeshift bandage. Hardly any of the beige material is left unstained by grime or unnameable blood. When he's done tying the knot off, he'll head for the closest door he can find, pushing his shoulder against it as he twists the knob to let them both in.]

Yeah. Sure. [She doesn't mean to sound dry, and she tries not to; if anything it's noncommittal, just words, something to do while she drags her exhausted self along and through the door he found.

Looks pretty empty inside, at least. For once. The structural damage lets in plenty of light, too. Sheena looks around, waits for a moment with her hand on a table, lets out a breath.]

Okay, pretty sure I'm not gonna pass out any time soon. Sit down somewhere and let me see what happened to you, I'm not a doctor but I've got a bunch of supplies.

[And she is an expert in panicking and somewhat practiced in how to not. Finding another focus is second on her list. ...Injuries aren't really a great focus but she can't just let him bleed while he picks something else.]

[He makes sure the door is bolted shut - not that it would deter any cultists who really wanted to break through, what with so many other holes punctured into the building, but it's an obstacle at least - before hobbling over to the only chair that's still upright and easing himself down. It's cumbersome, with all his gear still strapped to him.]

Dammit...I was supposed to have your back...

[As he moves aside his knotted jacket and pulls open his bloodied shirt, he's calculating how long they can safely stay here. they can't afford another altercation so soon. If he hadn't been struck, they could have retreated to one of the pockets of the city secured by Lucetian forces.]

"Supposed to"? You did have it. If I'd had to do that by myself I'd be dead.

[The cut doesn't look too bad. Sheena's hands shake while she sifts through a pack of stuff. That's a bad sign. The mana drain might catch up with her after all.

After some long seconds, she holds out an apple gel to Jean.] Eat that. It's, uh, it's kinda like medicine, I guess, except it tastes good. It'll help. [Too many people have looked at gels with suspicion before.] You should stop bleeding at least.

[Jean clamps down on any argument to the contrary. It could've gone much worse. There's nothing either of them can do about it now anyway. Thinking about it like that will just distract him from the here and now, which is where he needs to be.

He gives the gel only a brief look of uncertainty before he takes it and pops it into his mouth. If she says it's medicine, he has no reason to doubt her.]

...Thanks. [She's at least right about it tasting good, kind of like apples. Soon after he swallows, a soothing warmth surrounds his wound, and he holds his shirt back to inspect his side. The blood seems to have stopped leaking out.]

Hey...it's working...!

Yeah, it's supposed to. [Over the years, she's gotten a lot better at being reassuring about injuries and safety, but not much better about all the fiddly parts. She has a lot of supplies but not a concentration of specific ones; finding a cloth she can fold up and some bandages she can tie around it feels like an achievement.]

I can't use any filial magic because we'll just end up attacked by shift hunters. Sorry. This is the best I can do. [Which is going to be a decent patch-up job until they find actual healers somewhere, nonetheless. Ninja have to be able to deal with everything in the field.

Her hands are still shaking, and there's a fuzz coming into her hearing. This is bad this is bad this is bad, but she refuses to say so and forces herself to breathe slowly instead.]

[A curt shake of his head to dismiss her apology.] Good enough for now.

[He won't tell her not to worry about it, though, because the stack of things to worry about is towering over them and toppling down. Staying still feels like an accident waiting to happen.

And he does notice the trembling of her hands as she works with the bandages.]

You sure you're okay?

Not as sure as I could be.

[Tying a last knot, she takes two steps back from Jean and sits down right there. Knowing what an incoming near-faint feels like is awful, and it would be worse to fall from standing. That guy'd probably try to catch her and start bleeding again.]

I'm gonna be okay, I just need a minute first.

Zompania Draft - Draftees and Reinforcements, mid-day 4-early 7

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