Out of the frying pan

[techno_mancy]

The elevator whines as it slowly climbs back to the surface. The numbers over the door flicker on and off, floor by floor. Sera doesn't pay either of these things much mind, more busy with trying to stand upright. Her stomach has turned into a gaping hole, and she feels like she'll cave into it before much longer

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[karma_slaves]

"They say there'll be food in the next couple of days. Heard there's a new source -- scouts probably found another pocket of refugees somewhere." The first voice echoes off of the smooth, white surfaces that assemble Karma City.

"It's always so long, though. And it's getting longer. W-what are we gonna do when--" It's impossible to ignore the ragged panic in the second voice.

"What you do is you're gonna stop whining about it! We're all in the same boat." The third voice cuts off the second.

The city is thickly silent around the exchanged words. The speakers have yet to come into view.

[techno_mancy]

One part of her says that she should try to avoid these people. Chances are they're some of Angel's, or some of Madam's. (A small part of her mind wonders briefly why she hasn't seen the other woman since being captured, but quickly discards it when she feels a sharp pang in her stomach.)
But at the same time, it feels disturbingly empty out here. Too much like the hallways she was wandering in for so long, and Sera finds herself stumbling towards the voices.

The buildings, streets and sidewalks remind her of other cities, and there's even some plants around, although they seem oddly neglected. Except for the glass dome overhead, it could be any other busy place.

...So then, why is it so quiet outside?

[karma_slaves]

The long shadows cast by the three Society guards come into view before their matches. The way they black silhouettes move tells a lot about each; the Panicker's shadow delineates a hunched, haggard posture. The other two seem more upright, but while one is more petite and feminine, the second clearly has the broader, angular build of a man.

When the trio come upon Sera, though, they all come up together as one jumbled mess of shadow stretched below their heavy boots. A pause, in which Sera should be able to appreciate the full weight of the silence . . . and then the fresh click of identical weapons being lifted to the ready.

At least one set of eyes lands on her fresh mark. "Freeze, Tuner!"

[techno_mancy]

The command comes so suddenly that she's shocked into actually obeying. Even though they'd do nothing against the bullets, her hands end up frozen in front of her body.
Her eyes, on the other hand, don't stay put. They keep darting between the weapons and trying to make out the faces behind the helmets.

She flinches a little at the word 'Tuner,' and she doesn't think she's imagining her new mark throb in response.

"D...Don't shoot, please." Sera ends up leaning against the wall she was walking next to. Her legs are shaking too much to hold her up.

"I-I don't want to cause any trouble." She ends up saying that loudly, hoping that thing stalking around in the back of her head hears her as well as the guards.

[karma_slaves]

Varnani makes off with a good half of the Pisaca's eyestalk, which inspires the Atma to let go entirely. Its mouth wriggles at the pain, each tooth undulating separately.

As if waiting for their turn, both the Gurr and the Rakshasa make a move for Varnani, hoping to take advantage of her recovery time. The Rakshasa swings its arms, and the Gurr hangs back, opting instead to call on a blast of wind to further knock Varnani off her balance. Maybe the Rakshasa, too. The Gurr probably isn't overly concerned about friendly fire.

[techno_mancy]

The Asura can't convince her jaws to stop worrying at the eyestalk, which costs her precious time as she stays hunched over it. It's only when the wind blasts her full in the face that she reacts, first by digging her hands into the ground to keep from getting knocked over, and second by snapping at the whatever of the Rakshasa is closest to her; a hand, a wrist, or a leg, she isn't discriminating, as long as she doesn't have to reach too far up to get it.

Her back is well armored, and after the encounter with the first demon, she's happy to let this one break those rib teeth on those plates.

[karma_slaves]

The Rakshasa's aim is thrown off by the Gurr's simultaneous attack. It stumbles sideways, the wind catching inside it's cavernous mouth. The small claws on one hand manage to snag and clasp on some of her armor while her teeth sink into the crook of the Atma's arm. The Rakshasa hisses at the pain, but uses this connection with Varnani to reassume its balance and swing around to give her a toothy, gnawing embrace.

The Pisaca is still making a pained noise fit to wake the dead . . . or hungry Tuners, as the case may be. The Gurr still has some sense left, at least enough to give the other Atma a sound kick to its middle and a low snarl. This should afford Varnani a little time to deal with the Rakshasa.

[techno_mancy]

Varnani might not be directly aware of the Gurr's actions, but she's quick to take advantage of the pause they create. Now that the wind has gone from a shrieking gust to an annoying whine in the air, she gathers her feet under her, and pushes herself back up.

This does have the side effect of pushing her deeper into the Rakshasa's mouth, and a mix of spit and blood get blown out of the corners of her mouth in a pained hiss when some of the teeth connect with her skin. Her head thrashes in response, with her jaws still locked around the arm. The sounds coming from the Asura grow more and more shrill, and the air around her grows colder in response.

Her feet end up digging into a slick of ice that forms on the ground to get more traction...Which is swiftly provided as the sheet goes from being flat and explodes into spikes in a heartbeat.