Episode: 3.11

--- Rai ---

[Apprehension] [Objective] (You know on second thought, maybe there was a better way to do this…)

He couldn’t help the bitter chuckle that worked its way up his throat at that thought, though his sister’s… (un)helpful reply, did little to reassure him.

[Exasperation] [Memory] [Disagreement] [Amusement] (It was your idea. So, no, you do not get to puss out like a bitch.)

His halfway through a snarky comeback, when his ears twitched catching the sound of the Sanctuary trucks nearby.

[Target: Visible] [Objective: Initiate] (There here, so get ready.)

[Resignation] [Agreement] (Fine…)

He peaked around the corner, waiting for the moment the black and white vehicles were close enough.

(Maybe I should up my Malice usage, just to keep from getting stuck in these roles…)

Taking a moment to steel himself, he inhaled deeply, bleeding Malice into his muscles to make this whole endeavor less… unpleasant.

(Wonder what my chances of surviving this are?)

(87.3%) His other-self helpfully supplied.

(That’s not too bad…)

In resigned effort, he ran into the middle of the street, instinctively triggering his rhythmic reflexes as the truck sped toward him, his finely tuned instincts compelling his muscles to leap and move over the truck in a single smooth bound, as it skid to halt.

Sadly, his plan required he completely ignore those instincts and let the truck hit him.

“Mother… fucking… son of a… BITCH!!!”

The plan did not however require he keep from cursing himself for coming up with this (stupid, dumbass, shit of a) plan.

Which he did.

Quite colorfully, given the three or four broken ribs piercing his lungs.

He really should’ve been able to come up with a better plan than: Wait until they’re in a different district, then stop the prison transport by letting them hit you.

(At the very least I should’ve tracked down a serial killer, rapist, or politician to throw in the way…)

He would’ve shaken his head at his idiocy, if he wasn’t sixty percent sure he’d break whatever part of his neck was still in one piece. It was enough to almost be grateful Malcontent developed such an absurd pain tolerance by the end of their first year as a Malcontent.

(Metal to flesh… Poison to blood… Screams to gasps…)

He closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

Almost grateful…

(Damage report?)

(Personal Status: Skull fractured in six places… Concussion-Mild: Brain function reduced by 6.8%… Five broken ribs and four cracked ribs… Left lung pierced in two places, right in one… Sternum fractured in three places… Heart scratching against broken rib every third beat… Arm cracked in-)

(On second thought… [Estimate: Combat Recovery Time].)

He did not need to hear just how stupid his actions were.

(Calculating…)

(Given current Malice Concentrate: Two weeks until full recovery, two hours until combat capable, sixteen minutes thirty-two seconds until fully mobile, four minutes and twenty-two seconds until functionally mobile.)

(I can work with that.)

Rolling over, he reached out with his Malice to send a faint meaningless ping through his pack bond with Chess.

[Query] (You okay?) She asked without an ounce of concern.

[Irritation] [Unit: Cheshire] [Irritation] [Objective] [Irritation] (Next time you get hit by the fucking truck…)

[Amusement] [Disagreement] (Pfft, ha ha ha! Not happening…)

[Irritation] (Bitch…)

He knew she was fully aware of his abilities, but would it have killed her to be a little concerned about his wellbeing?

He froze, before going limp as one of his ears twitched at the sound of two of the truck’s doors opened and the soldiers climbed out to inspect the still living piece of roadkill.

“I’m telling you he just came out of nowhere!”

“Really, you expect me to believe some idiot just… ran in front of a Sanctuary Truck?”

(If the broken bones weren’t agreeing with you, I might be offended by that…)

“Believe what you want, this isn’t on me though!”

“Yeah, I’m sure the commander will see it that way too.”

“Look I’m sure if you back me up…” the soldier trailed off as they finally caught sight of him, “Okay, yeah, I’m getting demoted for this.”

One of the soldiers kicked him.

“Yep, he’s dead, and you're fucked.”

“Damn it…”

[Query] [Time] (So, how long do I have to play dead?)

[Time] [Objective] (I’m working on it…)

“Alright, look let’s- Argh!”

His eyes shot open just in time to see Chess tackle the soldier behind the truck and out of sight, as he wrapped a hand around his soldier’s knee.

“What the fu-Ah!”

He cut the off the soldier’s curse by pulling him down by the knee, waist, shoulder, and head, slamming each piece into the ground, before finishing the guard off by smashing his helmet into the ground hard enough to crack both.

“Shi~it…” he cursed feeling half his body scream at him to sit the fuck down.

(Recovery time extended by 3.6%)

And half his mind too apparently…

“Shit, you look like roadkill.”

He glared at his uninjured sister.

“Fuck you.”

“Mm,” She watched him for a moment as if thinking, before shaking her head, “Nah. Don’t think I’m into twincest, but don’t worry I won’t kink shame you bro.”

He swatted her with his tail, the only part of his body that wasn’t broken in at least three different places.

“How long,” He winced, forcing himself to sit up, “How long do we have until the other truck gets here?”

“I didn’t risk using too much Malice, even with my filter, so my Persuasion has probably worn off by now…”

(So, if they let Slaver protocols slow them down, about five, six minutes…)

He nodded, before pulling himself up against the truck. “Then we need to get moving.”

Chess nodded herself, before searching the soldier for his keys, “How long have you got until you can actually move?”

(Two minutes, forty-three seconds.)

“About three minutes.” He answered as he picked the keycard up with his tail, before tossing it to her.

“Should’ve come up with a plan that didn’t involve you getting hit by a truck.” Chess shook her head, as she moved to unlock the door.

“I know,” he ground watching a light on the door flicker yellow, “but my Concentrate is too low to use Persuasion, and if I tried anything physical it could’ve caused a car accident.”

“And the more damage we cause the worse off we are in the long run.” She sighed, repeating the golden rule of any Deviant op.

“Yep.”

The light finally flashed green, before an audible clack rumbled from within.

Chess popped the door open, only to duck out of the way as someone swung on her. From there she grabbed that someone’s wrist with her tail, and flipped them over her, before pressing a boot to their throat

“Hell of a ‘thanks for rescuing us’ you got right there.” He snarked watching his sister throw a grown man around like a ragdoll.

Chess gave him a glare, even as she held one of the people they were supposed to be ‘rescuing’ in a position she could kill them in with a quick twist of her foot.

Sighing to herself, Chess inhaled before releasing a puff of black mist, as she stepped off the man’s throat, “Look we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here, but we’re here to help.”

“You’re here to help?” a woman asked stepping forward from the back of the truck.

He also noted another man stepping in front of the woman.

“Yeah, told you to wait on our signal.” Chess grinned, before spreading her arms wide, “And here it is.”

“Though, said signal is a bit late.” He confessed, feeling once of his ribs move back into place.

“Ignore him, he’s in a bad mood.” She waved him off, while stepping off the other man’s throat.

“No, I’m in a painful mood, there’s a difference.”

“See, I told you someone was coming to help us.” The woman told the man next to her, ignoring their little spat.

“Freeing us from cuffs doesn’t count for much.” The man next to her argued, taking her hand.

“Keeping them from notice your cuffs were loose does.” He snarked, after all while he may be against his sister’s charity case, he wasn’t going to let some jackass belittle her efforts towards said case.

“So, you two are Deviants too?” the man on the ground asked rubbing his throat.

“Do you not see the tails?” he asked, being sure to wave his own, right in the man’s face.

“So, what is this some kind of Deviant rescue thing?”

He just rolled his eyes, before shaking his head, “Something like that,” (obviously…)

Chess tilted her head, before her ears started twitching, “Sanctuary ‘s on the way back, we should get moving.”

She glanced his way and he nodded back to her.

“Won’t be Shadow-running anywhere but I should be good enough to get these three to the Market at least, they can sort themselves out from there if they want.”

Chess gave him a look as he walked past her, neither bothering to check if their three rescues were following.

“Main street or twelfth?” Chess asked, hopping a couple of steps to catch up to him.

“Since we can’t take the back road with these three, Main is best from here.” He admitted, despite wishing to avoid such a crowded street, “So long as we can keep their heads down, we should pull through with no trouble.”

“Want me to throw up a weak filter just in case?” she offered picking up on his discomfort.

“Hold off for a minute, I can deal with the crowds if it means there’s no Malice trail leading back to the Market.”

“What exactly is the ‘market’?” the woman asked speaking up from a short distance the three decided to follow them from.

“Think of it as…” Chess glanced at him looking for an answer and all he could offer was a shrug, since his opinion of the place wasn’t all that great to begin with, “Think of it as the Deviant equivalent of a ghetto, not a great place, but you shouldn’t have to worry about Sanctuary too much while your there.”

One of the men, the one Chess marked as a non-Deviant, stepped forward taking the woman’s hand, “What about our home, all of our things?”

He didn’t bother turning around, “Give it a day or two for the heat to die down, then you,” he pointed at the man, “can come and go from there as you please, she on the other hand,” he twitched his tail towards the woman, “needs to stay the hell away from there if she wants to stay out of custody.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?!”

“Sell your house, and move to a Haven town, or at the very least a different part of the city.” He offered his blunt and honest opinion.

“So where just supposed to throw away our home? Just like that?!?

He ran a hand down his face, “Look your house was marked as a Deviant home, you can go back if you want, but Sanctuary will just start hassling you again before the week ‘s out.”

“But what about our lives, our jobs, our family?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” (honestly this is more Chess’s thing, she’s the people person…)

His eyes drifted towards Chess as he ran a hand through his hair, half hoping she’d take over, as she watched them apprehensively.

“How are we supposed to deal with this shit?!”

Fed up he turned towards the man with a growl, his eyes flashing black and white as he stepped forward. He may’ve understood where the guy was coming from, really, he did, it was one of his own biggest fears… but at the same time they were already sticking their necks out to help these (strangers) and there was zero reason he had to play nice with this (fucker).

His teeth began to itch, and his fingertips burned as he took a step forward, ready to tear the man (limb from limb).

“Well if you don’t like it then-”

[Apprehension] (Rai…)

He glanced at his sister’s worried faced, before glancing back to the now pale trio.

With a force of will he shook his head clear, before turning back towards their destination.

“…then like I said, I don’t know what to tell you.”