Post by Patrick Doyle on Jun 17, 2012 12:54:21 GMT -8
He
[/size] kills[/size] without a [/size]thought[/font][/right]
There was a young boy taking the injured. Patrick wordlessly corralled as many of the injured as he could towards the man, ushering those with burns to the front. It was odd. Without Conrad around, there was a slight damper in the appreciation of the medium. They'd have to bury a pack of smokes with him.
Someone thanked him, but he didn't hear, couldn't hear. His hearing dulled, muted, a feeling of being smothered. Shock, they presumed, but their sight was crystal clear. All that mattered was the next objective. Patrick separated himself from the crowd of injured, looking around the rubble. The crowd was starting to lessen in panic, though the explosions didn't stop. Artorius was strangely quiet, as well, though Patrick took it as his way of mentally preparing them for the tasks ahead.
A familiar face turned their head and they watched as Captain Markus was helped up by a red headed woman. A red-headed woman who pointed to an alley that branched away from the main street. An alley that would have been ideal for an ambush or attack of some kind. It was rather advantageous for them to have a tracker's skill set. He would have utilized shady regions that were still close to the population but isolated enough to get the job done.
Well, they were co-workers. More or less.
He jogged over to the man, noting the Numbing spell was starting to wear off. Bloody lovely. "Markus, old man. Is there anything I can do to help?" His words were not of the usual brightness the last time just weeks before, more controlled, stoic, militaristic sharpness. He spared a glance to the red-head. "Are you alright, Miss? Not injured?" He was wary. Something seemed off about her, but they couldn't put their finger on it. It was bothering them.
He
[/size] murders all that's good[/left]Lyrics from "Phantom of the Opera" - "Twisted Every Way"