Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25389303-20180831104140/@comment-5999656-20190105003249

Titania had retreated to a few paces back after her initial push, eyes fixed on Tragoedia as the lizard circled her and Farran. Her extendable blades are at their full length, and she was fully prepared for another confrontation. When the machine escapes, however, startled away by a descending wall of gunfire, Titania lets herself breathe a sigh of relief, glad that she wouldn't have to tangle with such a massive opponent. She turns to Farran, who is lying in a charred circle, trying to brush away the last of the tendrils of flame dancing over his skin.

"Vorcha is dead," she says flatly, helping up the Huntsman. "You're alright?"

"My elbows are gonna be bruising over the next few hours," Farran grumbles, shaking off bits of ash. "Where's Nobel?"

As if in response, a large engine growl greets the duo, and the outline of an armored vehicle's back lights, pulling away, is visible in the gloom. There's no way any of the soldiers would be leaving now. It has to be Nobel. Farran makes a dash to chase after it, but Titania's metal grip on his arm prevents him from going anywhere.

"Ow! What are you - "

"You're not thinking of chasing after him?" Titania says sharply.

"I am. I can't leave a sicko like that running around. This is what it means to be a Huntsman," Farran insists. Just as he says this, a volley of gunfire sounds out, peppering the side of the vehicle with bullet holes even as it continues to drive.

"There's no way he'll escape looking like that," Titania rebuts coolly. "The police are on their way. We need to get out of here before those soldiers turn their guns on us."

Farran opens his mouth to respond, clearly unhappy with this outcome, but after a moment of deliberation he shuts it again. He tugs his arms out of Titania's grip.

"I'm calling Team JRAF to Mistral," he says, shaking his head. "This place is a shithole."

"Very well," Titania says. Inwardly, she disagrees with the thought of summoning her master to Mistral, but she decides to leave that for later. "Then let's go."

The dust has yet to settle. Shots still ring overhead as poison gas floats over the battleground. In the distance, police sirens can be heard. The duo, however, meld back into the forest on foot. It seems this battle might last longer than just a job. What may come, however, will remain ambiguous for the time being.