Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25389303-20180831104140/@comment-25389303-20181005155819

Blanc lurches in her seat, the truck suddenly picking up speed as its wheels move from mountain path to cement, and up ahead she spies a long stretch of straight road, leading almost all the way down to the foot of the mountain. Not far off she could see the first few pockets of light emanating from a dozen surrounding farmsteads.

Her eyes were quickly drawn away from the promise of safety ahead as a memorable blonde-headed figure cuts in front of her atop a dark motorbike. She watches with a mixture of confusion and wonder as the young man suddenly launches himself from the vehicle, flipping backwards towards her. A part of Blanc expects to see a dark shape fall down onto the road behind them, to be crushed by their other pursuers, but a loud THUD from above indicates the man's survival. She begins to call out a warning to Nobel before she is rocked by a powerful explosion barely two metres in front of her, as Farran's bike is obliterated by the truck. Her head snaps back sharply as part of the bike's engine buries itself deep into her helmet's visor, stopping an inch from her right cornea.

Groaning from the whiplash, Blanc clamps a set of armoured fingers around the metal stake and rips it out, tearing a large gash in her visor as she does so and exposing the red scar tissue beneath. Letting the metal fall from her hand she does her best to focus back on the road, only to have the truck suddenly veer to the left as one of the back wheels momentarily lifts off the ground. With some difficulty she manages to regain control and steer them back into the middle of the road, only for the same thing to happen again as a second explosion rocks the truck - this time with greater force.

"Bloody hell..." Blanc mutters under her breath, snatching up her rifle from the passenger seat and winding down her door window. Then, with some difficulty, Diaboli's young lieutenant leans as far out as possible, bracing herself against the truck door so that she doesn't go tumbling out, and raises her rifle.

In her sights she finds the older woman from back in the facility, and once again she is hit with a wave of remembrance. This time an image of a nameless bar floats in her mind. A meeting of chance, brief and insignificant. Yet a meeting nonetheless.

Her rifle hisses, fully charged and ready to unleash a powerful current of destructive energy, and yet she hesitates. Her reticle is positioned perfectly over the woman's torso - all she has to do is pull the trigger, and her target would fall. If the blast doesn't kill her, crashing into a road at 70mph probably would, and at this range she couldn't miss! And yet...

After struggling for several painful hearbeats, Blanc curses herself and lowers her rifle. She can't do it. Logic tells her to pull the trigger and get it over with - they'd get away, Decade would be happy with her not getting captured, and she'd live happily ever after. But she can't bring herself to. Dejectedly she pulls herself back into the cabin of the truck, casting Aten's Ray aside as she tries to block out the jeering voice in her head. It was a familiar, inhuman voice - grating and metallic. She could practically see its owner sitting next to her, grinning at her self-torment.

"Frail. Weak. Useless," the voice sneers, like a chipped knife across a blackboard. "You could never make the hard decisions. You're just playing criminal!"

"Shut up..." Blanc mutters.

"Just give up! You're not meant for this life!"

"Shut up!" Blanc repeats, louder this time.

"No wonder everyone's leaving you. All you ever do is fail!"

"SHUT UP!!!" Blanc practically screams, punching the dashboard so hard it buckles.

At it did. The smiling figure fades from her mind, though not before whispering one final word.

"Pathetic..."