[ Aymeric takes in the sights... Wow. Familiar! What isn't familiar is grass. Anyway, he keeps holding onto the hilt of his sword as his attention darts between a couple of spots. ]
Let us start with some reconnaissance before we head into battle. 'Tis imperative to know the current state of affairs so we may better carry out our mission.
[ He doesn't feel he needs to remind Meteion another time to stay close to them. Babying her would be too rude. Anyway, Aymeric will start with the medical tent? ]
And Aymeric sure is saying things that she.. is focusing on but also taken in by their new surroundings, still she does know it would be good to at least figure out their situation more. So she'll follow after him to their left as they move to the medical tent.
While he addresses the soldier, Meteion is kinda.. peeking into the tent while gently holding that sword closer to her. They'll be okay. How bad is it chief... ]
This is all very terrible, but also not that unfamiliar. The amount of horror is new and he was so used to taking on just machines and monsters up until he learned about himself.
While usually he's just a follower, but as a swordkin, he's going to take some initiative. ]
Alright, I'll go check out the armory situation and let you know. [ He'll head over there to see what's going on here. What's going on over here? ]
Well. The first and most immediately notable thing is that when Aymeric begins speaking to the soldier in front of the tent, their face and figure morph in a blink into someone quite familiar to him. Hm? Or did it morph at all...? Wasn't she always here? She's a member of this army, after all. His dutiful second-in-command, who looks so very haggard and exhausted to the bone. She shakes her head in response to his question, looking toward the entrance to the tent.]
"The situation is... dire. Reinforcements have been blocked; it seems the ships have bested us, this time. We have precious few medical supplies left."
[The sword in Meteion's hand radiates a near-constant misery. It hates being back at this place, knowing what will unfold, but it tries to steel itself nonetheless. The inside of the medic tent is unpleasant, and the smell of death will immediately hit her. In the back corner, there are rows of bodies wrapped in dirty linens. The cots are all full of soldiers in badly wounded states, with exhausted-looking nurses running back and forward, trying to remove bullets and cauterize wounds and comfort the people too far gone to help. One nurse will catch her eye to her, and as she's scanning the beds, one face in particular stands out, the figure tucked under a thin blanket and left in a far back cot.
Over at the armory, Prompto will also see some familiarfaces. Iggy is leaning against the wall of the fortress, one leg bandaged and bleeding heavily, face pale and sweaty. Gladio is also covered in blood, though the impression is he's managed to make it through without too much injury this time. He's loading a Chassepot rifle, expression grim.]
[ Oh that near-constant misery is.. very heavy, just as is the scene before her. The smell, making her eyes blur over, ugh it hurts-- but she doesn't look away. Can't. Even as she tries not to stare at the bodies lining up and instead focus on the nurses and those still on bed being treated.
But, the sight of Bass and Clarte do cause some alarm because w... why are they here? This.. is this right? Anyways, she'll zoom right on over to Nurse Bass with a concerned look in her eyes. ] What.. happened? Are you alright?
[ There's a feeling of concern, worry and stress now. Peering over to Clarte with more dread. ] Is.. Is Clarte okay?
[ He feels his heart sink seeing the pair of them. Rushing over to immediately hover by Ignis, his hand reaching to grab a hold of his friend and support him. ]
What happened!? Where's Noct?
[ He's looking at Gladio as he asks this. Not even registering the surprise gun in his hands. ]
[Prompto runs to his two comrades, and they look relieved to see him, though not too surprised. Ignis will accept the support, somehow maintaining a relatively calm demeanor even in the face of the chaos of war - though he quiets at the question. Likewise, Gladio's gaze falls to the side as Prompto asks after their missing friend, and the look on his face is full of regret and anger. It's not very well-suited to someone so cheerful, but that's what war does to a person, right?
Gladio locks the rifle, the ka-chack! ringing out clearly even through the mire of noise surrounding them.]
"He's holding down a fort out there. We tried to get some reinforcements in, but..."
[He'll glance down toward Ignis, who's hangin' out, bleeding. Clearly that plan didn't work out.]
Double yikes. He isn't really sure how to feel about this. He's anxious, upset, worried, but also accepting that this is war. That people get hurt and lives get snuffed out. It's sad, but it is what it is...
It's Noct so he has to try. ]
I have two friends with me. Iggy can stay here and we can fight our way to him.
[Gladio just shakes his head at that. There's a steadfast determination in his face; after all, it's for Noct, right? Noct, who's trying his best out there to prop up a dying, failing army in its death throes.]
"No time to waste."
[He'll start heading away from the armory and toward the battlefield. Ignis will shift so that Prompto doesn't have to support him as fully, clapping a hand over his shoulder.]
"I'll head back to the headquarters soon, don't worry about me."
[Ignis seems satisfied to leave things in the hands of these two, and will go back to resting up for now. It's a long way back to headquarters, after all.
Gladio also seems satisfied with this. Goodbye sweet Aymeric, there's a new CYOA member on the squad now. Without waiting a moment more, he'll lead the way straight out of the camp and into the blaze of battle on the field ahead.
It's a hail of bullets almost immediately, as enemies who have pushed the Shogunate lines farther and farther back aim from their nests in relative safety. Gladio dives behind a makeshift shelter, bullet spray hitting the bags of grain with a dull and rapid thud, thud, thud. To the right, Prompto can see what appears to be a sturdier shelter that may just barely fit the two of them. To the left, there's a swath of open field, some smoke emerging from a ditch in the ground.]
[ You know, as appealing as climbing into a ditch in the ground with smoke coming from it, he's going to immediately go for the sturdier shelter. He's going to dodge roll for and immediately press his back against it. ]
Why couldn't this be a stealthy mission? [ Waving for Gladiolus ] Hey! Over here!
[With a 13, Prompto's dodging and rolling over to the sturdier-looking shelter in relatively good form. A bullet zips past, grazing his right arm, and another rockets past his ear, grazing it and causing it to ring painfully.
Trusting Prompto, Gladio immediately follows after. With a 12, he fares just slightly worse: a stray bullet hits him in the shoulder, and he grunts, but muscles through the pain to make it the rest of the way over. He points toward a larger-looking wooden structure off to the left, which could probably be described as a fort in better days.]
"That's where we're heading."
[There appear to be several ways of getting there. One path has more shelter but also seems to have more dead bodies strewn about. One has sparser shelter with fewer corpses. One seems to have no corpses, but also no real shelter. He can tell from here that there are several trenches that way.]
He's peeking out from behind his shelter and then looking over to Gladio to see he's shot. Inwardly, he's definitely fretting over it, but it's Gladiolus. This is the King's Shield and someone who is always strong. He can probably get ran over by a stampede of chocobos and brush it off like it's nothing.
Right?
He looks over at the structure and nods. ]
Okay! Looks like what appears to be the safer option is really. It's a more than meets the eyes situation here. Let's try... number two!
[ Let's try the sparser shelter with fewer bodies. ]
[They sure are bullets, huh. At least none of Prompto's are lodged in him! Gladio will be fine, probably; he's sure pushing right on through like he hasn't been shot, in any case.
He surveys the paths that they have to the structure ahead before nodding.]
"Seems like a good bet."
[Door number 2 it is! The nearest shelter along this path appears to be at least twenty yards away. There's one body lying between the two shelters. What's his plan?]
[Lucia is exhausted, but she's here, alive... for now. If the Shogunate side loses this war, that won't hold. After all, any survivors - especially those who held important positions - will surely end up executed by the Imperial government.]
"Both. The paths to the mainland have been blocked. The general's page was the last one to make it through... We won't be getting past the boats, either. But if we had enough power... Then it's possible we could break through their barrier."
[Her expression is grim, but there's a little hope in it that hasn't been extinguished yet.
Meteion zooms to Nurse Joy Bass, and he's definitely looking like he's seen better days! Phew. He probably hasn't slept for a while, given the state of this base, and his clothing is covered in blood and gore. They're short on hands and need all the help they can get at all hours, to ensure as few lives are lost as possible.]
"Yeah..." [He lies, like a liar, looking over toward Clarte.] "Just tired. Clarte's doing pretty bad, though. I don't know if they're gonna pull through this one."
[He says it with the deep sort of exhaustion that implies he's already seen far, far too many losses for one more to do anything just yet. The shell-shock of battle is heavy in the air.
Clarte seems to be alive, but is indeed in very bad shape. From where she is, she'll be able to see that they're wrapped in bandages, though most of the bandages around the left side of their ribcage is soaked through with blood. Their complexion is almost an ashy color, and they stare up at the ceiling in an almost unseeing way.]
[ Instinctively, he frowns at that even if he should be letting this battle run its course. It's hard not to feel for others, especially when you can see what these people are going through. Numbers... Fates or not, each person is a life. Still, he takes a deep breath and continues conversation, but makes sure to every so often check where Meteion is. ]
How many of our commanders are out on the field? What of the enemy?
[ Don't worry! Meteion is just miserable, sad, and suffering inside the medical tent!
She gently takes one of Nurse Bass's hands, giving a reassuring squeeze. ] Hang in there.. okay? I'll.. I'll go check on them. [ Really breaking her heart here to see that exhaustion and the weight of it all on him. She squeezes his hand once more before shuffling over to Clarte.
Oh, having and feeling so much is incredibly hard, what can she do? Gingerly, she rests a hand over their own as she looks them over. What... what can she do..? ]
Clarity, is... is there anything I can do for you? [ Her breath catches in her throat, trying to steady so her voice doesn't tremble but it.. it isn't a good attempt. Her hand is trembling too. ]
[It's a miserable balance, isn't it? To have the weight of an entire world on your shoulders, knowing that you'll still lose hundreds if not thousands of lives - some of them achingly precious. The sword at Aymeric's side stirs again, reaching out to him, the weight of it like a lead blanket. Like spectral arms over its shoulders, it holds, and it holds tightly.
After a pause, Lucia speaks again.]
"We have two generals standing. Commander Hijikata is on his way out." [To die in the field, a bullet to the back, as they have to ensure.] "The enemy's number is five times our own."
[And yet, still, even now, there's hope...? She seems to think so.
Meteion's out here living a life, though! Nurse Bass just nods, giving her hand a squeeze in return, before he bustles off to tend to more of their dying and their injured. The wailing in this room is miserable, and the scent of blood grows stronger by the moment.
Clarte, for the most part, seems unresponsive. It's like it takes a while for her words to register at all, and as they look up, it seems hard for them to focus.]
"...?"
[They look like they're trying to say Meteion's name, but the words catch in their mouth. They cough up a mouthful of blood, instead, which likely spatters over her nice apron.]
[ Aymeric's voice is stern, resolute, despite his aching heart. He continues to clutch onto the sword's hilt tightly, as if embracing it back... As if that would assuage its hurts as they continue on. A deep breath, he looks over to where Meteion is. He sees Bass and Clarte, knowing they're simply apparitions—but their pain. It's real, isn't it?
... He remembers when he and Lucia would share the same hopes, or maybe it was she believed in him and his aspirations. Instinctively, he wants to have hope with her. Closing his eyes, he makes a decision. ]
Watch over the girl until a blond man comes to fetch her.
[ oh.... blood on her "I'M GOING TO FEED ALL YOU FUCKERS." apron that says cool. cool. "zetsu why are you mentioning this" im in fucken pain over her cr i need to cope ]
D-don't push yourself.. [ there's guilt, apology, she shouldn't have tried to force them to speak. cold... it's so, so cold. her breathing is uneasy, shaky, trying to blink away the tears away.
there isn't much she can do here. she won't be able to heal, tend to injuries, and if Clarte won't even survive the... she squeezes her eyes shut, wings trembling a distant voice comes up in the back of her mind, "Steady, Meteion. Steady." okay.. she, has something to do. they all do, right?
but she looks out and just barely catches Aymeric's leaving form. if I had rolled low she would've honest to God stay here but with that feeling she had in that room before, and the sword at her side, she knows she can't stay here so. she gives Clarte's hand one gentle squeeze. ]
..We'll... we'll change it. We'll fix it, okay?
[ anyways fuck you hei, she's gonna run after aymeric. ]
Anyway. Aymeric makes his decision to head away from the tent, with the parting words from Lucia being a simple and heartfelt:]
"...Stand tall with him."
[Until the end, should that end come, is what the implication seems to be - though she's so very hopeful, still.
The sword at Meteion's side mourns with her over the losses here. All that have happened, all that will happen. This, too, is a painful thing. But they have to see this through. This is the army that must lose. The death of the people in this tent, in this camp, will save the lives of billions more. It's a crushing weight, a horrible burden, but this is what it means to be what they are.
Meteion runs after Aymeric, and the moment she leaves the tent, a deafening BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! rings out through the air.
In a moment, their haggard segment of the camp is torn through by enormous, heavy cannonballs, which shatter through stone and wood alike. There are screams from behind them, flying shards of debris. The tent itself has been torn through and is in the process of collapsing. Aymeric, with his terrible 1 and 3 roll, may be able to catch the sight of Lucia as she begins to fall, a spray of blood trailing in her wake. He won't have much time to worry about it, though. One of the metal ramparts from the fortress wall is falling fast toward him, having been blown from the top by some of the cannonfire.
Meteion, with her solidly middling rolls, will have a little more luck, but not by much. One of the cannonballs crashes violently into a metal crate of supplies near her, sending out a spray of metal and wood shards in her direction, which will gouge and scrape her.]
[ ... Wow. He just left and now Lucia is dead. He has seen her on the battlefield, blood staining her armor and streaking her face, but never has he seen her death—because it has yet come for her. This place... It would allow him to catch a glimpse and his heart jumps before stilling like it would stop beating any second. Time seems to slow down, but he knows better.
He has to keep going, but the rampart falls onto him? Anticlimactically, with a three he can't do much but try to avoid it only to fail with this 3. It crushes him, but I would hope not enough where he can't keep going. Sometimes adrenaline helps even when you feel bones breaking.
This is fine. He shoves the rubble off of him and pulls himself out, breaking whatever skin in the process. A deep breath— ]
Meteion—[ SHE WAS AT THE TENT? He looks around. ] Meteion!
[ This sword is gonna push her to tears, she's fighting so hard not to crumble beneath the weight of it all. Is... a few lives really worth it to save so much more?
Meteion tries to push on but quickly staggers at the deafening sound, covering her wings at the ringing and flinching. Wide eyes quickly glance back, chest constricting of her breath that she can't even call out if she wanted to. Bass. Clarte. She's left gasping, almost wanting to rush back but the explosion of the metal crate beside her startles her from her thoughts.
There's a fiery, piercing sensation of pain that shoots through her as she tries to cover her head. The shout from Aymeric snaps her to attention, quickly pushing on even if there's burning pain from her legs, her arms, and others that she doesn't try to figure out. It's probably only scrapes and gouges it's fine. She pushes on to where she catches sight of Aymeric barely from the rubble?? ]
A-Aymeric! [ ENOUGH THAT SHE DIDN'T GET A FCKEN WALL DROPPED ON HER. anyways she's here now. ] A-Are you okay?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saturations) wrote2022-03-14 04:57 pm
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Let us start with some reconnaissance before we head into battle. 'Tis imperative to know the current state of affairs so we may better carry out our mission.
[ He doesn't feel he needs to remind Meteion another time to stay close to them. Babying her would be too rude. Anyway, Aymeric will start with the medical tent? ]
How are our injured?
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And Aymeric sure is saying things that she.. is focusing on but also taken in by their new surroundings, still she does know it would be good to at least figure out their situation more. So she'll follow after him to their left as they move to the medical tent.
While he addresses the soldier, Meteion is kinda.. peeking into the tent while gently holding that sword closer to her. They'll be okay. How bad is it chief... ]
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This is all very terrible, but also not that unfamiliar. The amount of horror is new and he was so used to taking on just machines and monsters up until he learned about himself.
While usually he's just a follower, but as a swordkin, he's going to take some initiative. ]
Alright, I'll go check out the armory situation and let you know. [ He'll head over there to see what's going on here. What's going on over here? ]
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Well. The first and most immediately notable thing is that when Aymeric begins speaking to the soldier in front of the tent, their face and figure morph in a blink into someone quite familiar to him. Hm? Or did it morph at all...? Wasn't she always here? She's a member of this army, after all. His dutiful second-in-command, who looks so very haggard and exhausted to the bone. She shakes her head in response to his question, looking toward the entrance to the tent.]
"The situation is... dire. Reinforcements have been blocked; it seems the ships have bested us, this time. We have precious few medical supplies left."
[The sword in Meteion's hand radiates a near-constant misery. It hates being back at this place, knowing what will unfold, but it tries to steel itself nonetheless. The inside of the medic tent is unpleasant, and the smell of death will immediately hit her. In the back corner, there are rows of bodies wrapped in dirty linens. The cots are all full of soldiers in badly wounded states, with exhausted-looking nurses running back and forward, trying to remove bullets and cauterize wounds and comfort the people too far gone to help. One nurse will catch her eye to her, and as she's scanning the beds, one face in particular stands out, the figure tucked under a thin blanket and left in a far back cot.
Over at the armory, Prompto will also see some familiar faces. Iggy is leaning against the wall of the fortress, one leg bandaged and bleeding heavily, face pale and sweaty. Gladio is also covered in blood, though the impression is he's managed to make it through without too much injury this time. He's loading a Chassepot rifle, expression grim.]
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... Lucia?
[ Wait. No. They're on those trips and he shakes his head, gesturing with a hand to ignore what he said. ]
Blocked from sea? Land?
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But, the sight of Bass and Clarte do cause some alarm because w... why are they here? This.. is this right? Anyways, she'll zoom right on over to Nurse Bass with a concerned look in her eyes. ] What.. happened? Are you alright?
[ There's a feeling of concern, worry and stress now. Peering over to Clarte with more dread. ] Is.. Is Clarte okay?
[ IS HE DEAD?? ]
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What happened!? Where's Noct?
[ He's looking at Gladio as he asks this. Not even registering the surprise gun in his hands. ]
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Gladio locks the rifle, the ka-chack! ringing out clearly even through the mire of noise surrounding them.]
"He's holding down a fort out there. We tried to get some reinforcements in, but..."
[He'll glance down toward Ignis, who's hangin' out, bleeding. Clearly that plan didn't work out.]
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Double yikes. He isn't really sure how to feel about this. He's anxious, upset, worried, but also accepting that this is war. That people get hurt and lives get snuffed out. It's sad, but it is what it is...
It's Noct so he has to try. ]
I have two friends with me. Iggy can stay here and we can fight our way to him.
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"No time to waste."
[He'll start heading away from the armory and toward the battlefield. Ignis will shift so that Prompto doesn't have to support him as fully, clapping a hand over his shoulder.]
"I'll head back to the headquarters soon, don't worry about me."
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Alright. Take care, man! We'll bring him back in one piece!
[ Sorry Aymeric, Prompto is replacing you with another beefy tall dude. He'll keep his hand on the handle of his sword and follow after Gladio. ]
Show me the way, big guy!
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Gladio also seems satisfied with this. Goodbye sweet Aymeric, there's a new CYOA member on the squad now. Without waiting a moment more, he'll lead the way straight out of the camp and into the blaze of battle on the field ahead.
It's a hail of bullets almost immediately, as enemies who have pushed the Shogunate lines farther and farther back aim from their nests in relative safety. Gladio dives behind a makeshift shelter, bullet spray hitting the bags of grain with a dull and rapid thud, thud, thud. To the right, Prompto can see what appears to be a sturdier shelter that may just barely fit the two of them. To the left, there's a swath of open field, some smoke emerging from a ditch in the ground.]
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Why couldn't this be a stealthy mission? [ Waving for Gladiolus ] Hey! Over here!
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Trusting Prompto, Gladio immediately follows after. With a 12, he fares just slightly worse: a stray bullet hits him in the shoulder, and he grunts, but muscles through the pain to make it the rest of the way over. He points toward a larger-looking wooden structure off to the left, which could probably be described as a fort in better days.]
"That's where we're heading."
[There appear to be several ways of getting there. One path has more shelter but also seems to have more dead bodies strewn about. One has sparser shelter with fewer corpses. One seems to have no corpses, but also no real shelter. He can tell from here that there are several trenches that way.]
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[ Of course he has to be a little foolish.
He's peeking out from behind his shelter and then looking over to Gladio to see he's shot. Inwardly, he's definitely fretting over it, but it's Gladiolus. This is the King's Shield and someone who is always strong. He can probably get ran over by a stampede of chocobos and brush it off like it's nothing.
Right?
He looks over at the structure and nods. ]
Okay! Looks like what appears to be the safer option is really. It's a more than meets the eyes situation here. Let's try... number two!
[ Let's try the sparser shelter with fewer bodies. ]
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He surveys the paths that they have to the structure ahead before nodding.]
"Seems like a good bet."
[Door number 2 it is! The nearest shelter along this path appears to be at least twenty yards away. There's one body lying between the two shelters. What's his plan?]
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"Both. The paths to the mainland have been blocked. The general's page was the last one to make it through... We won't be getting past the boats, either. But if we had enough power... Then it's possible we could break through their barrier."
[Her expression is grim, but there's a little hope in it that hasn't been extinguished yet.
Meteion zooms to Nurse
JoyBass, and he's definitely looking like he's seen better days! Phew. He probably hasn't slept for a while, given the state of this base, and his clothing is covered in blood and gore. They're short on hands and need all the help they can get at all hours, to ensure as few lives are lost as possible.]"Yeah..." [He lies, like a liar, looking over toward Clarte.] "Just tired. Clarte's doing pretty bad, though. I don't know if they're gonna pull through this one."
[He says it with the deep sort of exhaustion that implies he's already seen far, far too many losses for one more to do anything just yet. The shell-shock of battle is heavy in the air.
Clarte seems to be alive, but is indeed in very bad shape. From where she is, she'll be able to see that they're wrapped in bandages, though most of the bandages around the left side of their ribcage is soaked through with blood. Their complexion is almost an ashy color, and they stare up at the ceiling in an almost unseeing way.]
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How many of our commanders are out on the field? What of the enemy?
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She gently takes one of Nurse Bass's hands, giving a reassuring squeeze. ] Hang in there.. okay? I'll.. I'll go check on them. [ Really breaking her heart here to see that exhaustion and the weight of it all on him. She squeezes his hand once more before shuffling over to Clarte.
Oh, having and feeling so much is incredibly hard, what can she do? Gingerly, she rests a hand over their own as she looks them over. What... what can she do..? ]
Clarity, is... is there anything I can do for you? [ Her breath catches in her throat, trying to steady so her voice doesn't tremble but it.. it isn't a good attempt. Her hand is trembling too. ]
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After a pause, Lucia speaks again.]
"We have two generals standing. Commander Hijikata is on his way out." [To die in the field, a bullet to the back, as they have to ensure.] "The enemy's number is five times our own."
[And yet, still, even now, there's hope...? She seems to think so.
Meteion's out here living a life, though! Nurse Bass just nods, giving her hand a squeeze in return, before he bustles off to tend to more of their dying and their injured. The wailing in this room is miserable, and the scent of blood grows stronger by the moment.
Clarte, for the most part, seems unresponsive. It's like it takes a while for her words to register at all, and as they look up, it seems hard for them to focus.]
"...?"
[They look like they're trying to say Meteion's name, but the words catch in their mouth. They cough up a mouthful of blood, instead, which likely spatters over her nice apron.]
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Then I will go with him.
[ Aymeric's voice is stern, resolute, despite his aching heart. He continues to clutch onto the sword's hilt tightly, as if embracing it back... As if that would assuage its hurts as they continue on. A deep breath, he looks over to where Meteion is. He sees Bass and Clarte, knowing they're simply apparitions—but their pain. It's real, isn't it?
... He remembers when he and Lucia would share the same hopes, or maybe it was she believed in him and his aspirations. Instinctively, he wants to have hope with her. Closing his eyes, he makes a decision. ]
Watch over the girl until a blond man comes to fetch her.
[ Time to abandon child. ]
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D-don't push yourself.. [ there's guilt, apology, she shouldn't have tried to force them to speak. cold... it's so, so cold. her breathing is uneasy, shaky, trying to blink away the tears away.
there isn't much she can do here. she won't be able to heal, tend to injuries, and if Clarte won't even survive the... she squeezes her eyes shut, wings trembling a distant voice comes up in the back of her mind, "Steady, Meteion. Steady." okay.. she, has something to do. they all do, right?
but she looks out and just barely catches Aymeric's leaving form. if I had rolled low she would've honest to God stay here but with that feeling she had in that room before, and the sword at her side, she knows she can't stay here so. she gives Clarte's hand one gentle squeeze. ]
..We'll... we'll change it. We'll fix it, okay?
[ anyways fuck you hei, she's gonna run after aymeric. ]
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Anyway. Aymeric makes his decision to head away from the tent, with the parting words from Lucia being a simple and heartfelt:]
"...Stand tall with him."
[Until the end, should that end come, is what the implication seems to be - though she's so very hopeful, still.
The sword at Meteion's side mourns with her over the losses here. All that have happened, all that will happen. This, too, is a painful thing. But they have to see this through. This is the army that must lose. The death of the people in this tent, in this camp, will save the lives of billions more. It's a crushing weight, a horrible burden, but this is what it means to be what they are.
Meteion runs after Aymeric, and the moment she leaves the tent, a deafening BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! rings out through the air.
In a moment, their haggard segment of the camp is torn through by enormous, heavy cannonballs, which shatter through stone and wood alike. There are screams from behind them, flying shards of debris. The tent itself has been torn through and is in the process of collapsing. Aymeric, with his terrible 1 and 3 roll, may be able to catch the sight of Lucia as she begins to fall, a spray of blood trailing in her wake. He won't have much time to worry about it, though. One of the metal ramparts from the fortress wall is falling fast toward him, having been blown from the top by some of the cannonfire.
Meteion, with her solidly middling rolls, will have a little more luck, but not by much. One of the cannonballs crashes violently into a metal crate of supplies near her, sending out a spray of metal and wood shards in her direction, which will gouge and scrape her.]
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He has to keep going, but the rampart falls onto him? Anticlimactically, with a three he can't do much but try to avoid it only to fail with this 3. It crushes him, but I would hope not enough where he can't keep going. Sometimes adrenaline helps even when you feel bones breaking.
This is fine. He shoves the rubble off of him and pulls himself out, breaking whatever skin in the process. A deep breath— ]
Meteion—[ SHE WAS AT THE TENT? He looks around. ] Meteion!
[ HOW FAR BEHIND IS SHE. ]
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Meteion tries to push on but quickly staggers at the deafening sound, covering her wings at the ringing and flinching. Wide eyes quickly glance back, chest constricting of her breath that she can't even call out if she wanted to. Bass. Clarte. She's left gasping, almost wanting to rush back but the explosion of the metal crate beside her startles her from her thoughts.
There's a fiery, piercing sensation of pain that shoots through her as she tries to cover her head. The shout from Aymeric snaps her to attention, quickly pushing on even if there's burning pain from her legs, her arms, and others that she doesn't try to figure out. It's probably only scrapes and gouges it's fine. She pushes on to where she catches sight of Aymeric barely from the rubble?? ]
A-Aymeric! [ ENOUGH THAT SHE DIDN'T GET A FCKEN WALL DROPPED ON HER. anyways she's here now. ] A-Are you okay?
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