Cross Effects > Areas
Highway 13
yinsukin:
Suerte
With an explosive thud, the car slammed into another one on the highway, sending them flying through the windshield. Used to thinking on her feet in these kinds of absurd situations, Suerte grabbed what was left of the man's body, hoping to bury him later. Somehow, the pair managed to crash into it at just the perfect angle so they felt only a minor sting. For the brief moment that they flew through the air, Suerte let out a cackle of excitement. Looking up, she realized what had happened. They didn't crash into a car, but a truck. The two were flung into the back, landing butt first on top of what remained of a stack of mattresses.
Letting her butt sink into the matress, she turned to Justice with a smile and said, "Well glad you got that trust thing down! I knew you were a good pick. I value people who can put their faith in me when it comes down to it."
YOLF:
Justice
"Mmm."
That was the most effortlessly comfortable recovery from a spiraling vehicle he had ever experienced, the rider had to admit. He kept that confession for later. The moment of landing, the feathers that clung to Justice's mail finished uncoiling over Pity, into the form of a rifle, and he hoisted it in perfect preparation.
He reclined on the matresses and inhaled in focus, seeking his target through the sights pointed in the most likely direction of a sniper.
Kotomine_Rin:
At the highway
"Papi! Watch out!" A girl cried out next to an old, grizzled trucker. Smiling, he turned to ask his daughter what was wrong, only for his expression to drop completely.
A-702's broken head fell over. Losing all feelings, his body fell to the side, turning the wheel unknowingly, they had already left the pink coffin. He grinned. How....hah... lucky, these ....haahh...two bastards, they were going.... to leave.... him behind.... huh? No one.... mourns for a spider...
Did he realize that the girl picked him up? Maybe not. As she did, she might notice something strange. He was holding a syringe filled with a strange something.
The car, unfortunately, wasn't so lucky. Indeed, the truck swerved in turn and crashed against the side of the highway, causing the whole lot to explode behind them. A wall of broken metal and bloodied gore was now covered in a sea of flames.
For a moment, everything was quiet.
"Uuu...uuuu...uaaaaaahhh! Papi! Why aren't you moving! *sniff* Ahhh! Help! Papi isn't moving! We're stuck!" The girl cried out, buried by her father's body and shielded from the coffin of metal and fire. Sadly, no one would come to help her.
*click*
An oddly shaped shell dropped to the ground. "Tch. I missed."
No matter. The flames made it harder to aim, but he carefully took a focused breath and searched for his targets. Once he found them, he'd simply aim and end it here and there.
yinsukin:
Suerte
"Goddamn it!" she yelled, slamming her fist into the tree.
It felt like she was going to collapse. Taking her first break in several hours, Suerte stared at the back of her fingers. They were bloody and busted. It looked like she might have fractured something, felt like it too. Martial artists were said to have trained their bodies by practicing their punches and kicks on trees. Suerte had been doing it several days a week for the past year, but she still wasn't strong enough. Despite her friends telling her that training would erode her feminine looks in favor of ugly manly muscle, the cowgirl gained nothing. She was still her soft feminine self.
That was probably why she was still so weak. She literally couldn't get stronger.
"Oh thats so cool! I-"
Her hyperactive cheering was interrupted by the sound of a girl crying. The cowgirl leaped out of the truck, rushing to the side at top speed. She bent down, hooking her hands around the bottom of the truck. Slowly but surely she lifted the truck off the ground. She had to make sure she went slow enough that Justice could adjust his shot but fast enough that the girl wouldn't die. They needed the cover fire to save her just as much as her own strength.
"Hang in there sweetie! I'll get you out of there!"
YOLF:
Justice
The gruesome crash and painful cry for help did not distract as much as Suerte's reaction bore into him, but his concentration didn't wane. Whatever the shock, she was on it, and the rider would do his part without fail.
Readjusting the gun, the rider's target fell on his aim, and he squeezed the trigger. Thunder boomed behind the round, followed instantly by the click of the pulled bolt and the hiss of ejected entropy, and Justice shot again. Two more blasts cracked the air, disabling rather than lethal.
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