Board Thread:Role Plays (AU)/@comment-24530736-20160411172540/@comment-25389303-20160606173027

There was little doubt in his mind that when he had hit the wall he had blacked out. For how long, though, Skye wasn't sure. When his eyes opened again, however, he could tell something was seriously wrong.

He was lying face down on the rubble-srewn concrete when he awoke. His sword blade had retracted, and had been replaced by four pincer-like arms which had dug deep into the ground when he had landed. He forced himself upwards - the muscles in his arms screaming at him as he raised himself into a push-up position, before rolling over onto his back.

He tried to rise to his feet, but collapsed with a gasp. His chest felt like it had been caved in, and he soon came to the grim conclusion that it most likely had been. Several ribs were probably broken - one or two of them possibly shattered, not to mention all the fresh wounds from where shards of brick had sliced him open on impact. Already his hair felt damp and sticky from where his forehead had smashed into the concrete. Those creatures could pack a punch - more than he had expected. Without his suit, he realised, he was completely outgunned by these...half-Grimm monstrousities

He levered himself into a sitting position, hissing in pain as he did so.

"Martyr..." he wheezed, "...enter...sentry mode..."

The weapon was quick to respond. It detatched itself from his arm, after which he placed it over his right shoulder. The mechanical pad built into his lab coat buzzed to life, creating a magnetic field which suspended the weapon in the air over his head. Martyr then glided to the side, and with its large pincers, ripped a large chunk of brick from the wall behind him. The chamber inside the turret began to rotate and heat up, and a moment later a large blob of burning magma shot out towards the approaching Grimm, melting through anything it touched. The turret didn't wait before gliding to the side and ripping out another chunk of makeshift ammo.

Skye wiped blood out of his eye and looked around. If he wanted to continue being useful, he'd need to find his Scroll. He doubted a new suit would heal broken bones, but it might help...

He silenced those silly thoughts with a grimace. No, the Scroll was far from his reach now. He was pretty much done for this fight...

With a final effort he reached into his coat and retrieved every cartridge of Dust he had and set it on the ground next to him. At least that way his turret could continue firing.

As black tendrils began winding their way into his vision, he looked on weakly at the ongoing battle in the distance. Was it just him, or did they seem to be getting further and further away?

They should be able to handle themselves... he thought wearily, as his vision darkened.

''I guess I did want to have a rest. And yet...I feel so...''

The last word left a bitter taste in his mouth as his eyes fell closed.

...alone...