Regrouping

[fathers_cleric]

The guards are coming.

Preston's staring at the alarm and wondering what the hell is going on-however guards are coming.
Many, Many guards.

"We have to regroup and get out of here." Preston murmured, glancing at Wells. He shouldered Jurgen's weight. Outside he stopped Max-blinking.

"They're coming."

Comments

[_to_the_bone]

Well, Jack comes first. Looking determined and regretful all at once. But most definitely running, and towards them.

"Best hurry."

[milkbonesoldier]

"Fine with me, mate," growls Wells. "This place makes me itch. Which way is out?"

[fathers_cleric]

Preston's gesturing wildly to the back, "We can't leave without the others."

[song_tra_bong]

Here come a few of them, bolting up the hall.

Mary Anne's helmet is long gone, the trench coat flapping around her.

She skids to a halt in front of Preston. "Well," she says breathlessly. "Nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live here--no offense, John. We get the job done?"

[fathers_cleric]

Shouldering Jurgen's weight to a more comfortable position, Preston glanced behind them, "Max, I need you to cover the rear-Mary Ann, You and I will go in together in the front-wells-stay in the middle with Sarah and Mr. universe to make sure that they're going to be okay."

A nice little group setting.

"Let's go." Preston took the lead, "It's this way."

[milkbonesoldier]

Wells didn't need to be told twice. The faster he was out of the foul-smelling, cramped, confining place the better, and the hell with who he was supposed to be imitating or what he was supposed to look like!

[song_tra_bong]

Mary Anne nods and follows Preston, a step to his right and half a step behind.

She loads a fresh magazine into her rifle, chambering the first round.

Her eyes scan the hallway for movement; she's had enough of being surprised today.

[fathers_cleric]

Surprisingly enough the guards seem to have vanished.

In fact, the entire building seems to have emptied.

This probably isn't a good thing.

[fathers_cleric]

There's the Door. Un-obstructed-no guards. This is bad.

It's there, so very close and it will take them back across the square to where they want to go. However just as they exit they might see see that the square is surrounded.. Completely surrounded by Guards with hands on their guns-waiting.

Not. Moving.

Nor will they move.

[milkbonesoldier]

Wells looks left.

Wells looks right.

Wells doesn't say anything- doesn't even move- but those who're standing nearest to him will hear the low, rumbling sound start from somewhere deep in his chest.

He probably doesn't even know he's growling.

[fathers_cleric]

The guards give no hint.

This is father's private guard. This is his elite force, all of these men surrounding the square despite libria sleeping peacefully around them.

"...Bravo Preston, Bravo." There's the sound of a hand clapping, "You and your motley band of misfits almost managed to get past me."

No, it's not Father.

Brandt steps into the light. But he can't look in Jack Frost's direction and he's barely meeting Preston's eyes, "Almost. But not quite."

[song_tra_bong]

Mary Anne starts doing a head count of guards, then gives up. Too many. Way too many.

But maybe they can clear a path...maybe some of them can make it to the door.

Her eyes flicker to Preston, waiting for a cue.

[fathers_cleric]

And they come.

They come without warning. There are twenty of them, Silver teeth and silver metallic tongues probing in and out. They bolt at the party.

Hounds.

Bradbury created the mechanical hound to represent the horror of a society that was too...mechanical. Too focused on what it could accomplish rather then the meaning behind that accomplishment. It was the law, iron, unwielding, uncompromising.

Mankind at it's heart. A simple animal that lived only for command..

Fully prepared to die, Preston faces the group, "....run like hell."

Then whirls about and slides into a Gun Kata stance.

[song_tra_bong]

Everything in her wants to stay and fight, but she has a job to do.

She grits her teeth and lunges for the door, hauling Jurgen with her.

As soon as he's safely through, she's coming back and God help whoever gets in her way.

[milkbonesoldier]

Baby, now your struggle's all in vain. . .
We who grew up tall and proud
Abruptly, with the sudden gracelessness of a puppet whose strings have just been slashed, Wells doubles over.
In the shadow of the mushroom cloud
He's clutching at his stomach with both arms and desperately trying to keep his head down, because the fight is over. If he tries to fight now there will be nothing left to fight with later.
Convinced our voices can't be heard
Right now, later is down to a handful of seconds, because when Wells opens his eyes again, he knows damn well they've gone yellow. The pain's about to end.

[fathers_cleric]

Preston's not occupied with the guards. Or with Wells for that matter.

He's staring straight ahead at Brandt who's drawn a sword from somewhere.

He took the steps slowly, down to where Preston waited, one, two, three...

The moonlight drank in Brandt's coat, dark black. He'd been promoted.

"Try not to ruin the Uniform Cleric."
Brandt flipped the blade upward into a ready stance, "I plan on wearing it for a-"
Quick as a wink Preston's weapon was out and fired.