Unstoppable Forces (Closed RP)

[Marshmallow]

In a city as large and sprawling as Wathais, it is inevitable that places once necessary and critical for the expansion, once bustling with workers and commuters, will eventually become outdated. As populations and borders and interests shift, some things fall by the wayside. So it was that, some decades ago, the city's industrial center relocated to take better advantage of new technology, new roads, and an ever-expanding working class.

The old industrial sector was thus left to rot on the city's fringes. Rows of empty buildings, overgrown parking lots, and crumbling factories lay behind a stretch of rusted chain-link fence and battered 'Condemned' signs.


Two wandering figures stood out sharply against this bleak background of abandoned structures, one blonde and the other silver-haired. Sohl did not seem especially out of place here, but Ilchymis was a bright splash of color - all blues and soft purples in his sweater and pleated skirt, with a fluffy blue scarf that trailed half-tied in his wake every time he darted ahead.

The old industrial buildings towered, empty and silent, over the dusty lot as the pair of them explored further. Ilchymis peered up at them in wonder, likening the rows of dark windows devoid of glass to the empty sockets of a sun-bleached skull. The high walls of worn concrete and metal, stained with bloody streaks of soot and rust, could be seen as repulsive, even unsettling. But the construct had only endless curiosity for the forlorn structures, and wandered merrily across the debris-strewn courtyard as though it were any other garden.


The outer facade and brickwork of several buildings had long since crumbled away from the underlying structures, creating mounds and hillocks of gravel, grout and crushed concrete. Lifting the hem of his floral skirt to avoid tearing it on the mangled piles of rusted rebar and shattered brick, Ilchymis scaled one of the taller mounds to get a better view of the abandoned lot. From his vantage point he could see most of the yard, but was instead trying to peer through some of the yawning, void-like windows and broken doors of the old factory.

Sohl had warned him against going inside. The buildings were in a severe state of disrepair, and many sections had collapsed. There was no telling how unstable the rest may be yet, or if any of the cast-off tools and machines might still be hazardous. It was unsafe to venture inside, no matter how much he wanted to. Places like this captivated him. They had been a source of pride to whomever built them, had been a place where people made lives and fortunes, spent their blood and sweat to create something for the good of others. Memories slept here.

It was like exploring the remains of the fallen cities back home, and a wistful smile crept across his face. As he jogged down the leeward side of the pile, he imagined instead that he was sliding down the golden dunes that had swallowed great Tre'laihr all those centuries ago. He imagined the rusted, leaning smokestack in the distance was instead the weathered watchtower, still blinking its warnings to empty and crumbled streets...


"Helloooo!" Ilchymis sang to the fleeting shadows that edged the lot, and listened to the sound of his voice echoing back to him. One of the echoes was a half-beat late, and he giggled. The sector had been abandoned by humans, but it was not yet devoid of all life. Shades flitted about the perimeter and peeked from the dark windows of the empty buildings. It was the reason they had come in the first place. Well, the reason Sohl had come. He was making one of his "jump points" here, to better facilitate movement to the shades' territory and neighboring suburbs for the WDSA. Ilchymis had tagged along out of simple curiosity and a desire to be close to his brother as much as possible. After a particularly upsetting nightmare some time ago, he jumped at any chance he could to be near Sohl. Despite his constant wandering, he kept the Icarim in his peripheral vision at all times, ever on edge no matter what appearances seemed to suggest. He refused, refused to allow anything like that nightmare to ever happen again.

"Hey Sohl, what about over here?" he stopped and called back to his brother from atop another debris pile, and gestured toward a large open span of level ground just a few meters ahead. He honestly had no idea how Sohl's jump things worked, but he tried to be helpful where he could.

[MP]

While his brother explored the ruined lots, Sohl knelt above a tiny, straggling weed and tried to focus. His thoughts kept wandering, drifting past the cracked walls and broken glass like the pale forms of the shades. There was a faint coating of dust on the petals, chips of rubble in the leaves. Reaching out a careful hand, he thumbed away the debris. Stared at the grey smudging his fingertip. The winter air was like an exhale, soft and fading over the rooftops. He hated it here.

Where Ilchymis seemed to come alive in the lost places, Sohl had no stomach for the decay and the loneliness. It reminded him of bones, bleached and picked over and abandoned. In the grey of the crumbling walls he saw the desert again - saw the black storm clouds, hungry and terrible, sweeping away the last familiar shapes. Whatever it had been, the place was gone and forgotten. It seemed so lonely.

But his brother was still here, at least. Sohl blinked back to himself. Looked up with a small smile at the sound of Ilchymis' voice. He rose to his feet, brushing the urban dust off his knees, and trotted over to the spot. It was no good, he could see that right away. Too empty, too featureless. But he didn't want Ilchymis to feel as though his input wasn't appreciated. And he hadn't quite shaken the clouds from his mind. He made a show of considering the space, trying to put his thoughts back on track and a smile back in his eyes. He shouldn't be gloomy here. Not while there was work to be done. Not while everyone was acting so strange.

"I think we need more detail," he answered. Sohl tipped his head in thought. "It has to be special. Something that sticks in your memory, like a stain or a shape in the glass. Something that stays."

[tsukikoko]

An emerald gaze watched the two figures as they explored their way through ruins and rubble. Downwind, shadowed by the remnants of buildings and walls as they tracked the would-be adventurers, the scarred figure clearly did not wish to be noticed. Indeed, Viktoria had chosen this location to patch herself up and attempt recommunication with her superiors precisely because it was a condemned area and her chance of discovery was low. She had certainly not intended to go searching for new targets.

Yet, here they were; two young figures who most certainly fit the criteria her superiors were looking for who had walked almost right into her hands. The first, carrying a feathered wing that clearly denoted it as non-human. Gender was more difficult to determine and no scent had been carried on the light breeze to tell her either way. No matter. Continue assessment. The second, a young man Viktoria knew. Sohl. Whom she had met in the mountains one day, who she had wanted to help had been laying in a beastial form she knew lay beneath this human guise. Given the connection to Sarkany he had revealed, son he could be useful in more ways than one. To lure in her packmate former comrade ally, confidant.. friend and deal with him, especially after he had aided the escape of Aaron her primary objective. Either way, once they were secured and she had regained contact with her commanders, Viktoria would be able to hand over the pair for securement. 

A routine check of what equipment she had left revealed three remaining sedation darts, currently loaded into the rifle held in her hands. The scarred feline stalked closer to her quarry, eyes occassionally leaving the two figures to cast about her surroundings and search for a good, concealed vantage point. She would need to put friend's son the seraph down first, to prevent him shifting. Then there would only be the unknown winged one to deal with; she had not yet seen him using any abilities, but used her time to watch carefully as she moved, in case the winged one gave away what abilities it might have before she engaged the pair. So far, they seemed to only be exploring, the winged one especially excited by their ruined surroundings.

[Marshmallow]

Ilchymis watched Sohl for a moment. It had been worrying him how quiet his brother had become around the old buildings, but he brightened with a smile when Sohl spoke up finally.

"Special? Hm... Okay," Ilchymis replied contemplatively. So it wasn't as simple as just having an open space for a landing or something. It needed to be unique. "I'll keep looking!" he chimed, wing giving a small flutter as he skipped down from the pile. Knowing, at least in general terms, what to look for put an extra bounce in the construct's step. He picked his way across the lot and along the outer wall of the main structure, investigating faded and graffiti-scrawled walls for something "special" Sohl could use.


As he passed one of the gaping windows, Ilchymis leaned up on his toes to peer inside the building. He opened his mouth to ask the flitting shades inside if they knew of something "that stays", but the words withered on his tongue. Something twinged inside him, needled at his thoughts, and pulled his attention elsewhere.

A single, thin thread of concern slipped into his mind, and his smile diminished.

Ilchymis felt a sudden unease, as if he were... being watched. Unconsciously his right hand closed over his left wrist and idly worried at the fabric of the sleeve there. He turned slowly in place, letting his gaze drift across the crumbled faces of the old buildings and their dark, empty windows, as though searching for something. But he didn't know what. That tickling sensation in his thoughts was already gone, faded like a whisper on the wind.


He shook off the feeling and moved on. At the next window along, he conjured up a small cluster of shimmering magelights, and sent them bobbing gently into the building's dusty, decrepit interior. "Do you think we should check inside anyway?" he called over his shoulder to Sohl as he peered into what was once the production floor of the old factory. Rusting machinery and fallen catwalks still littered the space, all with a hefty layer of dust and cobwebs. "I mean, it doesn't look too dangerous..."

[MP]

Sohl looked in through the window too, taking hold of the construct's hand as he stared. At the sight of the old machinery, leaning and skeletal, he repressed an unhappy shiver and withdrew. The requirements of a jump point were clear, and he was glad of it. He wouldn't need to go wandering about in the building's bones.

"Let's stay outside," he said, fingers curling slightly in Ilchymis' own. "The agents need to be able to run as soon as they get here. It'll slow them down having to get out of the building. And they might get hurt on the sharp bits."

Spotting a distant patch of wall painting - "grapheety," Kit had called it - he began to make his way around the building, walking the shadows' edge like a balance beam. He could feel the blanketing weight of it in his mind's eye, a fluttering pulse where the shades moved, but this other sense was only a distraction from work. Not useful for defining a jump. He tried his best to ignore the dark, focusing on the finer details as Isaac had taught him. Only...

Sohl paused, head lifting in puzzlement. If he'd had his ears, they would have stood pricked and alert. If he'd had his broad muzzle, he would have scented the wind. There was a patch of living shadow, too big for a shade. Curious, he felt for the dark, probing the shape. A large frame; tapering shadows at the joint of the limbs; great ears where the darkness pooled. His pupils teetered as these details sank in. His father's words came back to him in a cold spike. Sohl turned on his heel and began to run, darting in silence back to the construct's side.

"Ilchymis," he whispered as he reached him. "There's danger here. We have to go. Right now."

[tsukikoko]

She was out of time.

It wasn't just the human-seraph's abruptly raised head, or his pause, not even the way he quickly retreated back to his winged companion, that told Viktoria this. It was a feeling in her gut, an intuition little more than practiced notion, but one she had learned to trust.

So it was that from a gap formed by the remains of a window frame still remarkably standing within the partial remains of a collapsed wall, the barrel of a rifle extended. Her line of sight wasn't brilliant, she would have preferred a higher vantage point, but from between the tracks of some discarded construction vehicle or another, Viktoria made out the line of her target's torso. The sight settled on him, нет then with a pause to steady her weapon and ensure she would not miss не! before the feline's finger settled on the trigger.

As the shot fired there was barely any sound. A light pop of compressed air would be the only warning both figures received, before a tranquilizer dart embedded itself in Sohl's lower back, tearing through the fabric of his clothes to puncture the flesh beyond. изменник

Viktoria had no direct line of sight to the seraph's companion, so as soon as she confirmed a hit the scarred feline vaulted up and over the ruined wall, making her way towards her quarry the second her feet landed on the other side. She moved with the rifle raised, not running but instead covering ground with a steady, determined pace, ears raised and alert for any sign of movement or panicked voices. She needed to get the winged one in her view, but charging in even with one target down was a risk when the second was still so much of an unknown.



{нет = No.  не = don't.  изменник = traitor.}

[Marshmallow]

Ilchymis turned from the window with a soft sigh, and his magelights winked out one by one. There had been a small, childish hope he could get Sohl to agree to looking inside. His curiosity beckoned. But Sohl's reasoning made sense, naturally, and he wasn't about to argue with his brother or break off on his own. Maybe they could come back sometime... Still, he was perhaps a little saddened that he didn't get to explore the mazes of run-down machinery now while he had the chance. He had taken only a few steps in Sohl's wake when suddenly his brother was sprinting back to him.

Something unseen stirred at Ilchymis' side, unfurled itself and turned a piercing gaze to the crumbled walls and odd shadows beyond Sohl. A wordless warning filtered through their link just as the blonde reached him.


"There's danger here. We have to go. Right now."


The words barely left the seraph's mouth before that danger made itself known. From somewhere ahead of them came an odd noise, a pop of air that might have been silent anywhere else but the empty ruins.

Magic rushed through the construct and flared at his fingertips. The air at Sohl's back shimmered, but the barrier formed a split second too late. "Sohl!" Ilchymis yelped in alarm when he heard the muffled impact of something and saw his brother stumble. He let the magic fade as he darted forward, catching the Icarim by the shoulders lest he trip. "What was that? Are you hurt?" he asked, panic edging into his voice. That sound, was it some sort of weapon? A spell perhaps? After what had happened to him and Kit on the mountains, foggy though the memory had become, the idea of facing down another witch made his blood run cold. 'Please, anything but that!' he caught himself thinking, chewing his lip in anxiety. He couldn't sense any magic however, though he stayed on guard for it as he scanned the dilapidated surroundings with quick, wary glances.

He spied movement between a broken wall and an abandoned vehicle. A rather large figure was approaching them, and a shiver of fear ran down his spine. "Sohl, th- there's someone here. What do we do? Should we run?"

[MP]

There was a faint puff and a sting at his back. Sohl flinched with a startled yelp and pushed Ilchymis down, trying to shield his brother as he urged him into a run.

"Hgau! S'wgar!"  

But Viktoria could understand them too. She could run faster. He needed to change - needed to fly them out. Sohl reached around to his back as they ran, trying to seize the dart. But even in those few moments his limbs had grown watery, and he missed his hold. His fingers scrabbled. Plucked at the dart. Finally tore it free. It clattered from clumsy fingers. Sohl's eyes greyed and paled and greyed again, but the change wouldn't come. He wobbled mid-stride and, as they swerved around the corner of the building, fell in a skidding sprawl. A dazed pause. And then he was moving sluggishly, trying to pull himself up on his elbows.

"Wohn Iyir," he tried to say, but the words slurred out of his mouth, all but indecipherable. "Wohn Isaac..." 

He tried again to shift, to look around. But the drug was a cloying weight in his head, crushing his senses, and in another moment his arms gave out entirely. Sohl melted forward onto his face, his yellow eyes glazing over.

_{*hgau - keep running/don't look back
*wgar - warrior
*wohn - go find, bring back}

[tsukikoko]

Voices. Staggering footsteps. Skidding. The thump of a body.

Even though Viktoria had been near certain her shot had been successful, the sounds drifting across to her ears cemented that assertion. Booted feet powered ever closer to the pair with the unerring determination of a machine. Unfaltering. She knew exactly where they were. The seraph was down, нет his slurred hunter's speak a series of pitiful warnings. Useless. The threat of his beastial form, the escape his flight could have provided, had been neatly removed by the chemicals now coursing through his veins. Only his companion remained.

Still moving forwards, she raised the rifle with the speed and certainty of rigorous training, her aim centering on the winged figure stood over Sohl's crumpled form Стоп! the second she rounded the building's edge and had it in her sights. Given how little she knew of this other humanoid, Viktoria didn't intend to give it room to retaliate. There was no precedence for hestiation, no room for pity, remorse or compassion. Nothing lay reflected in her emerald eyes save a steadfast resolve.

She squeezed the trigger.


{нет = No Стоп = stop}

[Marshmallow]

"Sohl!"

Ilchymis stumbled to a sudden stop and jerked around as his brother fell. Sohl was slurring something in the hunter's tongue as he struggled to pull himself up, but Ilchymis could barely understand the words. Find.. bring..? Something. Someone. But before he could open his mouth to ask what Sohl meant, what he was trying to say, the icarim slumped and went still.

A cry of alarm leapt from the construct's throat. Gravel scraped and scattered as Ilchymis dropped to his brother's side. He tried to pull Sohl up, but the blonde was a dead weight in his arms. Panicked, Ilchymis rolled his brother over and tried to shake him awake. When that proved a failure he pressed a trembling hand to Sohl's throat, and then an ear to his chest. Listening for breathing, checking for a heartbeat. To his great relief, Sohl was merely unconscious, not dead. Whatever had hit him hadn't been lethal.
At least, not outright. They were still being pursued. A warrior, Sohl had said. Someone dangerous.

His jaw clenched, a nervous intuition rustled at his back. This was bad.
He heard the heavy footsteps crunching across gravel and concrete, growing nearer. Ilchymis knew he would not be able to outrun a pursuer, not that he could have brought himself to abandon Sohl anyway.

Scrambling as quickly as he could, he dragged Sohl into the shadow of one of the sturdier-looking walls. Working swiftly, he traced a pattern across the unconscious seraph's chest with one finger. A protective ward shimmered like a second skin over Sohl's body. He was trembling in fear as he wove his magic, but the Guardian's nature rose in him like a surge. He would keep Sohl safe even if it killed him.

The stranger rounded the corner, rifle aimed to fire, but this time Ilchymis was ready. His magic glimmered crystal-like in the air between them, and the dart pinged harmlessly off the barrier to fall, useless, among the ruin.

Ilchymis met the determined gaze of their attacker without blinking. "Stay away!" he demanded in his best attempt at a commanding tone, though his voice quavered with uncertainty and fear. "Who are you? What do you want from us?"

[tsukikoko]

So the winged one had some tricks. The barrier it had created reminded her of друг the older seraph, мой друг! if it was anything like his, she would be throwing away her final shot by trying again. A change of tactics was in order.

Rather than answer immediately, the scarred feline's eyes narrowed as her gaze slid for a fraction of a second in the downed seraph's direction, her pupils narrowing. There was a shimmer over him, another shield, no doubt. If she wanted to get at her preferred target, she needed to deal with this winged humanoid. Viktoria's eyes moved to stare unblinkingly at the other now attempting to square off against her. Loyal to its companion, judging by how it remained here, so little threat of it running to escape her without him. No scent drifted across to her from the stranger; no musk, sweat, no tang of fear sweat. But it couldn't keep the trembling note from its voice.

It was afraid.

With a flick of her wrist, Viktoria spun the rifle to her back, getting it out of her way.
"Nyet." Her voice, deep, Russian and plagued by a beastial, growling undertone, filled the air with a much more imposing prescence than her winged challenger. "Vill not be leaving."
She took a single step forward, but then folded her arms across her chest as though she had no intention of attacking any further, legs spaced shoulder width apart. The burning alighted in her mind and chest once again, a warning not to continuing speaking, to simply lunge for the remaining target and beat it into submission. Break it's wing, drag it torn and bloodied back to her commanders. But another, weaker but insistent, forced the words from her lips.
"I am Viktoria. I hyave orrderrrs.. vill be taking you forrr... prrrocessing."
A slight hitch in her expression, the smallest crease of her muzzle. Another utterance had nearly escaped her, a word too far. But it was caught, buried, destroyed.

She had delayed too long already.

At Viktoria's feet lay a piece of rubble. Some section of structure that had long since fallen from the crumbling building she and her targets were now stood beside. It was nearly a good foot long and as thick as her thigh, perfect for testing just how strong her opponent's barrier was before she attempted to get close. Quick as a lightning flash, the scarred feline dropped to one knee and hooked a hand beneath the brick, rising and twisting a near instant later. Her other hand came to rest lightly atop the improvised weapon to steady it as she spun. As her head whipped around to get the winged one back in her sights, the muscles of Viktoria's shoulder, arm and upper back visibly bulged - a frightening sign of what was to come.

Sure enough, with a snarl of effort she released the rubble in a violent heft, sending the sheared off section of building hurtling towards the winged one's face.



[мой друг = your friend]

[Marshmallow]

The construct held his ground, unsure of what this stranger would do. They stared each other down for an uneasy stretch of moments, and the tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. The cold determination in the humanoid's glare sent a chill through him more than her words.

Orders? Processing? Ilchymis didn't know what she meant exactly, but he understood enough. He knew that if he let her get close, she would hurt him. She would hurt Sohl. And if 'processing' meant anything like what he imagined it did, then that would only be the beginning of their suffering.


He narrowed his gaze and squared his stance defiantly. "I won't let you," he promised, and now the waver was gone from his voice. He was still afraid, so terribly afraid, but it wasn't fear for himself. It was fear for his brother if he should fail... And fear for this stranger, this poor broken thing only following orders, if he should succeed.


The time for negotiations passed in a heartbeat. The stranger abruptly ducked and grabbed up a chunk of broken concrete. In a flash of movement the heavy shard was launched straight for him.

Ilchymis barely had time to think and reacted on instinct, on honed reflexes and muscle memory from a different place, a different age. He raised his hands as if to catch the projectile, and the bubble protecting them collapsed. He sacrificed omni-directional defense in order to collect all of that energy into a focal point directly in front of him, on the facing side of the barrier. The debris struck with terrifying accuracy, and with a force that could have caved in the construct's skull if he'd had no defenses. Ilchymis tried not to imagine the damage that could do. Instead it was brought to a halt, lodged inside the layers of crystalline magic.

In the next breath the magic warped inside out. With a pulse of energy and light, the concrete chunk was sent rocketing straight back at his attacker.

[tsukikoko]

If the barrier's strength and maneuverability surprised Viktoria, it did not register on her face. There was only calm indifference as she watched. Learned. Calculated. The other's reactions spoke of fighting experience, in a quantity that was not to be ignored or taken lightly. The scarred feline's eyes centered on the rubble, anticipating what was to come.

Sure enough, the lump of disintegrating building shot back through the air towards her, with enough force to shatter bone if she let it. With a roll that had her on her feet and running in seconds, the scarred feline dove out of the projectile's way. Her thoughts, previously cluttered and at odds, fell silent. Both halves reacted in the same instinctive way to the danger, had the same plan to avoid it. A moment of synchronisation. That was all it took.

All traces of empathy, of self-restraint, were snuffed out. Overridden by the stronger, the training and conditioning, until only the machine remained. Viktoria ran, not at the winged one as it might have suspected, but away and out of sight behind the remnants of walls and the skeletal carcasses of machinery. One might think she had been driven away by Ilchymis' show of power, but the careful listener might realise after a few seconds that, where the crunch of bootfalls had signalled the feline's location, now there was only silence.

The eerie quiet stretched for a few seconds, broken only by the whistling of wind through the condemned buildings. At least up until a horrific screech split the air, like the death cries of some large, distressed animal. It was a sound that set one's teeth on edge - a ripping and tearing of metal somewhere out of sight. A heartbeat's length of further silence, before a partially rusted car door was launched in the winged humanoid's direction - this time from behind by the, now barefoot, scarred feline. A test of the barrier's durability and directionality no doubt.

[Marshmallow]

Ilchymis did not allow himself to hope that the soldier had been driven off. On the contrary, the moment of silence had his heart and thoughts racing. Spells and tactics flicked through his mind like turning pages as the seconds stretched on. He turned slowly in place, searching the crumbling walls and mounds of debris for signs of his attacker.

The shriek of tortured metal rent the air. Ilchymis spun toward the sound, eyes growing wide at the sight of what was hurtling toward him. His magic flared, rushing to his palms like electricity through a circuit. But he did not have time to cast and channel a new barrier. He countered far more immediately and directly.

Ilchymis thrust a hand out in front of himself. A brilliant opalescent light flared from his outstretched palm, arcing forward in a facsimile of a lightning bolt, complete with its own echoing crack of thunder. It collided with the warped metal door in mid-air, and sent it spinning off into the lot to land with a resounding crash amid the dust and ruin.

He couldn't afford to stay on the defensive. Sooner or later something would break this stalemate, and Sohl might get hurt. He had to attack. If he couldn't drive the humanoid away... then he would have to break it.

The thought turned his stomach, though some shadow within him rejoiced.

With the very next beat, he stepped forward and raised his other hand to loose a second bolt of shimmering magical lightning. His aim was precise, and a dark shadow in his thoughts pushed him to arc the bolt for the center of the feline's mass. The thing was someone's soldier, a warrior.

Aim to kill, the darkness whispered. It will be doing the same. Ilchymis clenched his jaw. If he had to choose between losing Sohl or killing a soldier...

Aim to kill.

I will help you.

[tsukikoko]

Once it became apparent her projectile had been deflected, Viktoria was on the move. She charged towards the winged humanoid in the lee of the metal, using the momentary distraction to gain ground. But the creature was fast and sure, more so than one might expect from their earlier timid demeanour. The scarred feline did not get as close as she intended, nor was she prepared for the attack that lanced her way. As the bolt of lightning arced towards Viktoria, it was not conscious thought that made her move, for there was not time. The subtle shift in her body, turning so less of herself was exposed, came from a lifetime of battle, honed reflexes and trusted intuition that made all the difference between life and death in a hail of gunfire.

Or in this case, a bolt of lethal magic.

Where the strike should have collided dead center with her chest, instead it glanced off the feline's torso, scoring a line over the edge of her ribs. Had she the time to think about it, she might have expected a electrical shock, but instead the bolt hit like a weighted blow, punching straight through the carbon fibre of her armoured chestplate and into the ribs beyond. A hairline fracture was likely, internal bruising and soft tissue damage a certainty. Viktoria staggered, faltered briefly in her charge. But as her foot planted and her attention fixated upon the winged creature once again, the machine continued her forward assault. There was only the brief enlargement of her pupils to signal the flare of battle rage, quickly dampened so she could focus, before Viktoria fixed a cold, emerald gaze of calculating indifference on her target once more.

So she had learned it had offensive capabilities. What Viktoria didn't yet know was how quickly those abilities could be generated and by what; concentration, inbuilt technology, or something else besides. Either way, throwing shrapnel was getting her nowhere. She intended to stop it.

Head lowered slightly, the scarred feline threw her left shoulder forwards, intending to close the remaining distance and barge the winged one with her far superior mass. There was no fear, no panic that she might be hit again. There was only focused intent. If she could knock it off it's feet, break it's concentration, it might be easier to subdue.