Major Thread Fortuna Vitrea Est

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail locked into Kaii’s direction and never let go, jaw set as he shouldered the shield doggedly. The Minister and Duchess were now in safety, with Silvertongue and Mina Rose with Kaii evacuating through the blasted door along with Matisse and Yaro and several other beasts they gathered along the way. They went in staggered pairs, wood bristling with bolts raining down from above while the Smudgies counted them past. One wave, then another, until it was down to only two.

He glanced at Darragh’s bobbing plume and hissed, low and quick, “Right, mate...drop ’n’ run in three… two… one!”

They tipped the makeshift shield toward the hottest angle of fire and let it go. The door-slab crashed over, buying them a heartbeat; both scampering through the jamb in a crouched retreat. Paws grabbed them at once, dragging them sideways into cover, before funneling them down the alley and away from the killing floor as the Opera burned behind.
The rush carried them several streets before they finally slowed, lungs burning, hearts hammering in time with the chaos still echoing behind them. The air outside was cold and sharp, the night alive with the shouts of Smudgies and Guards herding survivors to safety. Swift staggered to a stop at the mouth of an alley, bent over his knees, trying to catch his breath.

When he looked up, Silvertongue was there. Soot-streaked, wide-eyed, but alive. It was just the two of them now, cut loose from the others in the flood of evacuees.

"Gates, mate!" Swift gasped between ragged breaths, a shaky grin breaking through the grime. "We’re finally free!"

Without thinking, he seized the bard’s paw and hauled him close in a tight, relieved hug, laughter bubbling out despite the tremor still in his limbs.

He pulled back just enough to meet Silvie’s eyes, still holding tight to his paw. "C’mon," he said, voice low but steady. "Let’s get outta here."

Together they turned from the burning Opera and slipped into the maze of streets beyond, the firelight fading behind them.

@SwifttailTheFox @Darragh Harper @Mina Rose Brewer @Silvertongue Songfox @Dusk Rainblade @Matisse Dubois @Tanya Keltoi @Lord Yaro Ashpaw

 

[Alwyn Ryalor]

The bloodwrath that consumed the heir to House Ryalor already had him rising to his feet, looking more feral than a civilized beast, as he looked at the two supremacists who had dropped their weapons next to Theo. Flesh still falling from his canines, he was about to cut the defenseless, surrendered foes down with his bare claws, but then, something seemed to break through the all-consuming rage that he felt. A small, weakened, lighter voice. The voice of his son, safe. And, in that moment, the bloodlust faded, and, shivering, and suddenly so tired, it took all of his willpower not to collapse. He felt like he had just gotten out of a haze, and a bad one.

What...had…?

Still, there was precious little time to relax. Smoke and fire were consuming the opera house.

Focus, Alwyn, Focus.

He turned to Finnian, and, despite being a little bruised and shooken up, he was all right. He spared a momentary hug for his son, and then reached down and grabbed his bloodied broadsword, pulling it out of the stomach of one of the dead supremacists, not even bothering to clean it. They had to get moving, and soon.

“Henry, Jacob!” He called to two of the four guardsbeasts who had accompanied him. “Secure our two prisoners, and take up the rear.” He then turned to Theo, seemingly suddenly remembering something. “Theo! Grab that young pine marten sow, she’s Caden’s daughter, and in shock. I don’t know how the ‘Gates she got over here. Daniil was supposed to be watching her!”

He grimaced as he saw Oscar’s battered body-he knew he was dead the moment he looked at him. He had died a good death, fitting of a name on the memorial walls, which Alwyn would ensure his name was inscribed, but he was gone nonetheless. No beast survived those kinds of wounds-not even with the rumored golden serum his father had that could bring most back to life.

“Jasper, William, secure Sergeant Oscar, then come with me to the front.”

He nodded at Minerva, Jeshal, Cricket, Tal'Rakan, and then Finn.

“Right, we have to get out, and out of here now. I can offer you escort to the rest of my squad, and then we can make it out the back door, but we have to go now. Are any of you in need of medical attention? Once we get that pine marten up and going my squad medic Theo can attend to your wounds.”

----

Theo, for his part, snapped into duty now that his commander was back. Nodding, he quickly ran over to what appeared to be a stunned, young female pine marten clutching an instrument-she was a bit younger than him, by nine or so years as far as he could tell. The male marten knelt down to meet her level, voice soft as if he was speaking to a kit, calmly, but quickly, introduced himself, offering a paw, and a genuine smile, but not pressuring her to take it out.

“Hello there miss, I am Theo, medic of the Stoatorian Guard. Are you hurt in any way? Do you think that you can stand up, or would you like to be carried? Normally we would have a bit more time, but the situation is dangerous.”


@Asta Dalgaard @Cricket @Jeshal the Ironclaw @FinnianBrightfur @Minerva @Tal'Rakan

 

[Talinn Ryalor]

Talinn nervously looked around for Dusk, but he could not find her-surely she would have been right behind them? He was, despite all appearances, a very sentimental beast deep down, and the thought of losing his wife-just as they were reconciling-filled him with dread. He glanced at his three remaining Mistcloaks, who had followed him, with Sean Wicke, and barked an order.

“You three, on her! Kill anything that prevents your Lady from getting out of here, and get her out as soon as possible!”

Nodding at Orina, and then at the beast carrying him, he instructed him to go forth.

“We need to clear as much distance as we can while we wait for them to exit. If things go awry, Dusk would want one of us alive to guide our kits.”

@Orina Emberkin @Dusk Rainblade @Tanya Keltoi

 

[Cricket]

She’d seen plenty of dead beasts before. Stolen the clothes from corpses to keep warm in winter; turned a blind eye to save her own scales when muggings were becoming violent; witnessed brutalities on the streets no child should have gawped at from the rooftops.

Why, then, did this one stop her in her tracks? Even her natural disgust to the shower of blood was stifled outside of a reflexive shielding of her unblinking eyes. Cricket felt the warmth, could taste and scent the metallic tang of blood heavy in the air amidst the mix of ashes and scorched fur, but could not feel in in herself to much care. Her grip on Minerva’s short spear did not waver, eyes locked on the stump of neck remaining on the corpse at her footpaws. He had been so vibrantly alive mere seconds before, even if his purpose at the time had been to harm her.

Cricket thought of the Newhaven’s deck when she had been tiny, before they had abandoned her on frigid Imperium shores. The light had been glorious that summer, reflecting through half-consumed bottles in flickers of warm amber and green, the carousing loud but friendly. She had been part of something. Her mind was transported: the flickering lights of the fires were reflections from glass and ocean. The chaos was the noise of her adoptive family. She was safe and warm and happy.

She was anywhere but here.


@Asta Dalgaard @Jeshal the Ironclaw @FinnianBrightfur @Alwyn Ryalor @Minerva @Tal'Rakan

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

(Auto permitted by Cricket)

All those years of peace, severed along with sinew and bone. Not even back in the Imperium a fortnight and before Jeshal rolled a decapitated head. Long forgotten wardrums pounded in his ears, or was that the blood of an old todd keeping him alive unlike his enemy? The roar and adrenaline of old raids, pirate and Imperium alike, filled his memory. Survive. Survive. Survive.

He snarled at two of the deadbeast's cronies, who yelped and backed off at the sight of his dripping blade. Jeshal seized upon the distraction and hooked his gauntleted arm around Cricket's middle, bearing her back toward their allies. A table flew by and collided with supremacists a moment before Alwyn Ryalor ploughed through their foes like a meatgrinder. Carrying the gecko, he watched the scene play out and regrouped, sneezing at the smoke that was overdue becoming a danger. Panic began setting in. It took all his concentration not to lose himself to fear of the flames, especially as there was a call to flee backstage.

Alwyn's voice grounded him, whether through being a calm in the storm, or the rankling of his family name. Jeshal had earned a few cuts and light burns from the ordeal but he wasn't about to announce them. He would tend to them himself like any proud fool.

He nodded in agreement and moved for the exit. "Everybeast out afore we be buried in this blaze!"


(Tagging anyone who's on the way out toward the backstage exit at this point XD)​

 

[Dusk Rainblade]

It was chaos. Beasts were climbing up onto the remnants of the stage, beating a hasty retreat for the stage door as the fire spread. The timbers of the opera house roof groaned, threatening an inevitable collapse. Even the vulpine supremacists had recognized that the situation was getting dangerous to them as well, and were making their own retreat, presumably through a passage they'd secured out through the kitchens. After all, it didn't matter now if they killed the rest of the guests; they'd already murdered dozens, including the sitting Minister of Niceties, and burned down the symbol of the current cultural regime. As if destroying the opera house is that impressive, a derisive voice within her mocked.

Still, even as the attackers fell back, as her daughter kept close to Kaii's side as they both fled, as the shield wall broke and the beasts who had preserved her life finally preserved her own, Dusk stood, surveying the auditorium. There were too many bodies, not just supremacists, but also soldiers, MAUL, Unsmudgables, and guests who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was no way to remove them all before the whole building collapsed. It would be days spent recovering and identifying the dead, each body a mark of failure of the Empress’s promise to protect her citizens. Heads will roll for this. Dusk prayed that her own wouldn't be one of them.

She turned, finally accepting her sister's aid in scrambling up the stage herself. Her old scars on her back made climbing arduous, and she was slow-moving; by the time she reached the top, she could see that wiser beasts were using the side passages to reach the backstage, including those Unsmudgables and medics who were evacuating the wounded. She spotted Daniil and Caden among them, Daniil supporting his badly-burned lover on one side and helping a medic to carry the injured Mr. Pritchard on the other, while the unconscious Ms. Ulfrey was carried behind them. Good. Bully Harbor was a place for the young; never in her life had she more felt the years upon her than now, seeing how magnificently her generation, and she herself, had failed to prevent this tragedy.

"Alwyn!" she called to her son, then coughed, some of the smoke getting in her lungs. She waved at him, then dropped her paw, relieved to see him and a few youngsters already headed their way in the company of Jeshal and Tal'Rakan. I'll owe that cat a diplomatic gala or two for this. "Let's go," she confirmed to her sister, accepting her help and that of her husband's personal guard as they closed in on her, escorting her to the door.

~~~

A paw landed on Theo's shoulder, and Morgan knelt next to him. "We've got her," the ferret confirmed, looking anxiously to Asta. "Asta, c'mon, we gotta go! Vim an' I will getcha outta here. Caden's fine, he an' Danny Boy are headin' for the door, but ya can't stay here!"

She offered her paw to the marten, directing to Vim, "Get her other side, then we're high-tailin' it too, a'ight?"

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Swifttail locked into Kaii’s direction and never let go, jaw set as he shouldered the shield doggedly. The Minister and Duchess were now in safety, with Silvertongue and Mina Rose with Kaii evacuating through the blasted door along with Matisse and Yaro and several other beasts they gathered along the way. They went in staggered pairs, wood bristling with bolts raining down from above while the Smudgies counted them past. One wave, then another, until it was down to only two.

He glanced at Darragh’s bobbing plume and hissed, low and quick, “Right, mate...drop ’n’ run in three… two… one!”

They tipped the makeshift shield toward the hottest angle of fire and let it go. The door-slab crashed over, buying them a heartbeat; both scampering through the jamb in a crouched retreat. Paws grabbed them at once, dragging them sideways into cover, before funneling them down the alley and away from the killing floor as the Opera burned behind.
The rush carried them several streets before they finally slowed, lungs burning, hearts hammering in time with the chaos still echoing behind them. The air outside was cold and sharp, the night alive with the shouts of Smudgies and Guards herding survivors to safety. Swift staggered to a stop at the mouth of an alley, bent over his knees, trying to catch his breath.

When he looked up, Silvertongue was there. Soot-streaked, wide-eyed, but alive. It was just the two of them now, cut loose from the others in the flood of evacuees.

"Gates, mate!" Swift gasped between ragged breaths, a shaky grin breaking through the grime. "We’re finally free!"

Without thinking, he seized the bard’s paw and hauled him close in a tight, relieved hug, laughter bubbling out despite the tremor still in his limbs.

He pulled back just enough to meet Silvie’s eyes, still holding tight to his paw. "C’mon," he said, voice low but steady. "Let’s get outta here."

Together they turned from the burning Opera and slipped into the maze of streets beyond, the firelight fading behind them.

@SwifttailTheFox @Darragh Harper @Mina Rose Brewer @Silvertongue Songfox @Dusk Rainblade @Matisse Dubois @Tanya Keltoi @Lord Yaro Ashpaw

Silvertongue was in a total daze, his world a blur, until finally he was pilled into the alley. He looked at Swifttail wide-eyed, and couldn't help but crack a grin. "Well, I suppose things could have gone worse. I'm just happy to be alive!" He held Swifttail's paw tightly, the two of them fleeing into the night.

 

[Orina Emberkin]

Asta stared up at the armored marten leaning over her. She could not get her body to move to take his paw as she quivered in fear. Then Morgan was there at his side, reaching out to her.

"M-Morgan," the jill whispered shakily. Something within her seemed to break through the ice penetrating her limbs and she managed to lift a paw up to the ferret. Then she was being hoisted up and held between Morgan and Vihma and whisked through the wreckage, through a hallway and to a blasted open door backstage into the cool, clear air of the night.

---

Orina was at the back door, ushering Unsmudgables and MAUL agents and injured partygoers out into the night. A Longblade informed her that everybeast they had managed to recover had been evacuated, and as Talinn and his entourage left, then more Guardsbeasts and the last of the Smudgies, the squirrel thanked the stars that whatever explosives that had been collected beneath the building had yet to meet any of the fire. Every crackle of the fire and groan of the weakening Opera House beams set her tail to twitching with the instinct to get out and climb the nearest building for safety. When Dusk and Tanya appeared through the smoke flanked by several others including the massive, fighting cat in the feathered, bejeweled outfit, the vice minister simply gave the pair of vixens a nod.

"Minister, I'm glad to see you alive." Her gaze traveled over the eclectic, bloodied group. "I think you're the last out."

 

[Dusk Rainblade]

Dusk caught her breath outside, pulling away the sleeve she'd held over her snout to keep away the worst of the smoke. "Not quite yet," she stated, her voice a touch on edge. "Alwyn's still in there." Her tail twitched in irritation and worry as she turned back to the door, peering keenly through the smoke for any sign of her son, her brother-in-law, and the young todd she suspected might be another member of the family. 'Gates, please let them all live for us to have that uncomfortable conversation.

 

[Darragh Harper]

Fires stink. Forget cozy little crackling fires you can roast marshmallows on, or big roaring bonfires out in the wilderness, in the fresh air among the trees and grass. Actual building fires stink like nothing else, as everything you wouldn’t want to throw in a fire burns, melts, twists, and turns into something toxic. Ash gets in your fur, and smoke fills rooms and lungs fast.

Darragh had lost Swifttail and Silvie. They had been ahead of him, he was sure of that. Minister Ryalor was… somewhere? Safe, surely, with all those guards and attendants and elite secret agent sables… okay, there was just the one, but he had seemed formidable enough to count for more.

The stoat’s beautiful outfit was ruined, he was covered almost head to toe in ash. The poet looked almost ghostlike, as he wandered the streets outside the blazing opera house in a daze. His shirt was damp with sweat too, and clung to him stickily. There was nobeast to tell him where to go. It wasn’t as though he was on any official list to check if he was missing, or dead.

Darragh watched the fire and the smoke choke out the light of the stars. If anybeast was left inside… no. He knew beasts had been left inside. A shiver went down the stoat’s spine, and he spoke as though in a trance.

“The play never sees the rising curtain,
Nor does the roar of encore ever sound,
Our happy anarchy made sour by hate,
Our house of dreams is burning to the ground.”

Lost and disoriented, Darragh’s footpaws eventually led him on the path to a familiar pub. It was how he had expected the night to end anyway. It was only after he drained his first beer though, ignoring stares and murmurs, that he realised he was looking twice whenever he saw a fox. Whether he was looking for a friend or foe, was a question he would ponder down to the last drop.

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

When the doors were let free, Kaii gracefully slid into the exit as the last beast. He was put in charge of this little operation to escape safely and as such he saw it fair to be the last beast to leave. Calmly assessing the situation, Swift quickly found Silvertongue and the two have escaped. Darragh run to the city. Other survivors too were escaping fast or seeking medical help Unsmudgables were providing. All was well, all went as planned. Kaii was content that he could be useful in this very day. But...

It stung. somewhere deep, it stung that he couldn't even say goodbye to his friends. That they all left so quickly. He couldn't understand really why they wouldn't make sure at least that all of them were safe.

Shaking off doubt born from the experiences of lonely life he had, he found Duchess Dusk. Briefly reporting to her in his typical stoic baritone. "Duchess, I believe the group I was leading is all safe, including the vixen you have tasked me with protecting. I shall now go seek medical attention myself."

Kaii left, going towards the medics who were working their hardest to tend to everybeast. He had only one wound, a bolt protruding from his body. Nothing too bad and the bolt itself was stopping most bleeding. He however had one more goal there.

And he saw her. The vixen that he obliged himself to protect, holding her tail and waiting for somebeast to tend to it. Kaii already bit off the protruding part earlier, leaving only a splinter inside of it that stopped the bleeding. He was no doctor or surgeon and as such he knew to better leave extraction of such things to the professionals.

He still stopped by her, voluntarily. Why though? He himself had to consider that. Was it because he still feel obligated to help? He was but now was time he could leave her and see to himself. Was it that he still felt enamoured? Would be, but he was now not in a state where his emotions could dictate his behaviour.

And then he realised. The last thought wasn't true exactly.

He wanted to see if she was alright. That loneliness pang from earlier demanded some interaction.

He turned to her and sat nearby, awaiting the doctor himself. "Miss. I hope you took no more harm on the way out. I apologize for improptu wound treatment I did to you, hopefully the doctors here will pick up from there."

Indeed, even before she could respond properly, a ferret wearing Unsmudgables insignia came over. "Alright. Lemmie tend to you quickly." They said and Kaii promptly interjected. "Take care of the lady first. She was hurting for longer, I am used to such pain."

And indeed the ferret now ushered Mina to take her towards where the field hospital area was set. Kaii was now left alone again, but... he couldn't feel that pang anymore.

Looking at the burning building of the Opera, waiting for his turn, he just pondered deeply one question.

Could he ever solve that lingering feeling?

 

[Minerva]

Minerva was looking at the predator incarnation with awe. That giant wildcat was formidable in anything they did and admittedly he did save her life just now in their fury. It was inspiring, divine even picture that seared itself into her mind. Fortunately, Minerva saw this demi-god with religious adoration only, mainly because she already found herself a mate. It meant that instead of staring at them for even longer, she could focus on the fighting, now inspired despite her wound.

Another todd came in and killed one of the nearby enemies with fury. This one however wasn't predatory. Minerva could say he was on the hunt and she could respect that. That left one opponent on her side which was a bit further away and definitely not willing to come closer to the wildcat, instead they grabbed a nearby crossbow and tried reloading it.

To which Minerva reacted as well as she could. She jumped over the table and rushed to where Jeshal and that lizard hatchling fought, picking up the spear she earlier gave to them. It was bloodied. Good. She will be okay in life. Minerva quickly thought before twisting it around and using last burst of speed she had in herself to lunge at the last enemy in their vicinity.

She was fast, faster than most.

But she couldn't possibly dodge a bolt point-blank aimed at her chest.

The lunge successfully skewered the enemy, Minerva however collapsed with the sudden sensation of horrid pain. The breathing got much harder now as she suspected that the bolt damaged her lung.

Holding onto her spear and bow, she weakly chuckled. So that is why you aim there aalu qajaasua. Her thoughts were solemnly now on Miothiyle. She wouldn't die now. That she knew of for sure. Despite the pain and bleeding, Minerva knew how to act. She pulled her white clothes over her wounds to stop the bleeding. Naturally it slowly turned them crimson. She herself just relaxed fully and didn't move at all. Instead she just called out. "I need assistance."

It was very unlike her to ask for help. But she had somebeast to return to. That, and all the military training she took so far, made her more assured there is reason in calling for support instead of being stubborn.

 

[Tal'Rakan]

Rakan knew that his duel would be lost if he wasn't decisive. He was wearing little after all, one hit from the flail and he would be good as dead. Thus he decided to not let that happen. He threw himself at the armoured opponent, using his size as an advantage to push them onto the floor and pin the down. It went better than expected and the the unpleasant sound of metal armour falling onto the floor could be heard soon all over the Opera.

The lynx could keep his enemy that way, but that would leave him open to other targets. Time was still of essence too and he still had in mind request to save the kit in front of him. There was a loud roar somewhere near but Rakan couldn't care, he had to deal with this metal-clad opponent fast.

Their muzzle was open, but ripping it would take using his claws, which in turn would let the enemy use their flail again. The only way to kill them otherwise would be to go for the neck... but it was covered in this interesting mesh made of metal chains. Tal'Rakan found this armour very peculiar, especially a it had a lot of little holes in it.

That gave him an idea.

He bit into the chain mail on the neck. Using only one of his fangs. The one that was made from silvered blue steel. He lost that fang long ago in combat and this replacement came at a massive cost at the time. Now he could get all his teeth made from steel if he wanted easily but he still was happy to have this one as a firm reminder of one of the few combats he did lose.

Now however, it was the only thing on him that could rip apart regular steel.

Holding the supremacist, he used this one fang and the strength of his maw to surely rip apart the chainmail, leaving the fur and flesh beneath it open. Despite their desperate screams and attempts to get up, Tal'Rakan continued until the opening was big enough for him to dive into the flesh and rip it out.

Standing up and spitting out what he just bitten off, he didn't bother looking more at the corpse, instead he found the kit again, albeit he was now being taken by some sort of a beast that commanded clear respect. Looking around, the battle was wrapping up around him. Two final enemies nearby have surrendered, the vixen with a bow that fought here requested help. Other than that, it seemed everybeast was still alive.

The bloodlusty warrior got satisfied, it was time to be the general again. He moved to effortlessly pick up the white vixen and then moved to meet with the new todd who took over nearby command. With him asking, Tal'Rakan responded calmly, uncaring for the blood dripping from his fangs and claws. "Just this one I am holdinkh. I will take her outside. Lead the way."

Thus he moved along the troop that came in, carrying the vixen on his arm as she fought the bleeding. He could recognise a good warrior and as such he just let her do their own thing.

Tal'Rakan after a while found himself at the exit. Passing by High Priestess Dusk and one large squirrel. He stopped promptly. "Hikh Priestess Dusk. I have tried my prest. Ultimately my efforts were not in vain. The kit is safe and sound. Khoinkh with the armoured todd and his warriors. I shall take this one to your medics now. You do know where to find me Hikh Priestess." He gave a curtsy and slight bow before noticing the squirrel stared at him. He responded with wide grin, one still accentuated with blood on his sharp teeth and fangs, before leaving and taking the white vixen to what he thought was medical field down the street.

Once he came back to the ship, got cleaned and pampered, he noted one thing.

Even in anarchy, Vulpinsulans knew how to party hard.

 

[Dusk Rainblade]

Dusk stiffened as Kaii approached her, and the vixen's eyes immediately darted to where her youngest daughter, the fourth crown princess of Fyador, Duchess of Khaeronea and eighth in line to the throne, was playing with her tail like a little kit. Alexei has the same nervous habit, she reflected. She wondered how much of herself and Talinn had survived the girl's upbringing, then dismissed the thought as irrelevant. "Thank you, Mr. Nashirou," she addressed the todd, watching him go off to tend to Mina Rose. Well, that would be a problem she would have to address soon... After everything else, that was.

Dusk kept her composure as Tal'Rakan approached, and nearly collapsed as he confirmed that at least part of her family was safe. Flowers. An entire greenhouse of flowers, delivered to his ship. It was only the opening salvo in the gratitude she would bestow upon him and his nation for coming to their aid, but at least that night she was too exhausted to come up with more ways to repay his valor.

Dusk sighed, leaning against Orina's shoulder as they watched the opera burn. There was no sign of Talinn and Sean, the pair presumably well on their way to a safe house, and Dusk was glad of it. This night had been enough of a mess without the conversations she'd need to have with each. Imperium's greatest assassin my tail. "What a complete mess," she sighed, glancing to her sister. "I think I owe you both the entire contents of my wine cellar for this. I think there's still a bottle that Anithias set aside in there somewhere, if you'd care to split it."

~~~

Mina Rose hadn't felt anxious, ironically, until after she'd gotten out and had a moment to process. Then the full weight of the evening had hit her. Being shot at, attacked, nearly seduced, meeting her family, finding out they were just awful, the fire... She felt utterly exhausted as the adrenaline flushed out of her system, leaving her listless and paralyzed by the sensation of powerlessness. She was pretty sure that she was fired, even though she didn't think she'd done anything wrong. This was the kind of thing that someone needed to be fired for, and her sense of guilt told her it might as well be her. One shift, and already popped it like a cicada in a frying pan. She'd never pay her family back for their kindness at this rate.

She started as the handsome fox, Mr. Nah-shee-roh, approached her and expressed a surprising amount of concern for her well-being. Her tongue felt heavy; she wanted to say something clever and witty, but her mind locked up, unable to come up with anything until a medic had already taken over her care and the handsome fox had walked away. Only too late did the right words come to her. Thank ya fer savin' mah skin. 'Gates, she wished she'd thought to say it, and hoped she'd get a other chance.

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

With the heat of battle, Finn had drawn on a growing stoicism that sprouted on his voyage to Urk. Though Oscar had fallen, the kit seemed to be taking it rather well -- but the embrace from Alwyn lasted just long enough to start to draw him out. (Finn wasn't exactly sure why the Ryalors gave such good hugs, but he didn't question it. His hug tank had been running low for years now.)

Returning to the overturned banquet table, Finn pointed over to where the stoat had fallen, and led the group over to him. His assessment mirrored Alwyn's -- but his training from the Hide taught him to confirm death. Kneeling down, he gently held the stoat's head in his paws and felt for a pulse, but there was none.

Feeling the lifeless weight in his paws caught him off guard. He'd touched the deceased before, but... he knew Oscar. The fox looked up at Alwyn as tears sprung in his eyes, and he shook his head. In a moment, the other guardsbeasts had come by to take his body out -- and Finn was eager to follow.

Once outside, Finn scanned the crowd of departing beasts for Cricket. Chaotic as things were, he'd promised to meet her outside once they escaped -- and he intended to make good on that promise. Orphans were so easy to lose in Bully, and Finn was determined not to lose sight of her again. Spying Jeshal, Finn tapped on Theo's arm, and pointed. "Oh hey, Theo! I gotta check on Cricket... I'll just be over there," he said before threading his way through the crowd.

 

[Matisse Dubois]

With his employer accounted for and being escorted to safety, Matisse had occupied himself with clearing the final debris and exiting the building. Hooked swords returned to their rightful places on his belt and, with paws free, allowed himself at last to mop ash and soot smuts from his face with the unsinged edge of his cloak.

This had been one big insult to Misanthropy. Adrenaline had yet to ebb from the sable’s system, mutating from survival instincts to simmering rage. Security had been put in place and bypassed: there were gaps in Ministry oversight, somebeast had taken a bribe, or these supremacists had found some other weakness to exploit. Ultimately the result had been the same (and on reflection worked far better as the outcome, pushing blame and responsibility firmly away from assassination schemes) but it was an embarrassment for the Smudgies and MAUL nonetheless. If any contacts of his possessed so much of an inkling, he was going to squeeze every drop of information from them before squeezing every last gasp of air from their throats.

Pale eyes orange-tinted in the firelight, Matisse took the time to catch his breath and lick wounds in the street as he mentally considered contacts and lines of enquiry. He’d linger here just long enough to ensure that no further action was required of MAUL agents, but the night was young indeed. There was much work to be done: intelligence was best gathered as soon as possible.

 

[Cricket]

Time passed bizarrely. It seemed to have the entire night: first had come the agonisingly slow hours waiting beneath the tables for a chance to snag a free meal; then what felt like a whirlwind and stretched time all at once between the chaos of the explosion and the fighting. Now she had (metaphorically) blinked and found herself no longer stood before the beheaded corpse of their assailant but outdoors in the street in the arms of the older todd who had been so kind to her tonight.

Kindness was dangerous. Still dazed, the gecko at last stirred and squirmed free to stand on her own paws swaying a little. Cricket stared at the Opera House somewhat abstractedly, her body’s impulse to run and hide at war with the overwhelm which rooted her to the spot. “Thank you,” she croaked to Jeshal at last, voice hoarse. “You saved m’ life.”

Silvery eyes stared briefly at her own palms, only so recently healed from burns, and noticed at last that they were empty. Oh. She was missing that spear. Shame, that, it had felt good and right and…safe, to be armed better than her own knife. At once her tail curled around herself to fill the gap, grasping the limb as tightly as she had the spear. The discomfort grounded her somewhat, enough at least to glance at the crowds.

Finnian. She spotted him amidst the press of bodies flooding into the street and though relief surged in her to know he was alive she could not yet bring herself to move towards him. He was such a sweet fox, really: every time she’d crossed paths with him though she had seemed to bring him worse fortune every time.

Kindness was dangerous.

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Tonight had been intended as an exercise in her skills as an assassin: instead it was testing Tox’ very ability to remain in character. Not unlike Matisse she could feel a surge of fury bubbling beneath her fur at the way tonight had gone sideways, indignation and righteous anger already demanding vengeance. Her logic followed similar lines that their work had been done for them, but that did little to soothe the balm that it should have been hers. This had cost far too many lives.

More challenging yet was maintaining the façade of Betony when so many members of her family were at risk. Her face remained immobile through both Kaii and Tal’Rakan’s reports, though her gaze took in Mina Rose (and this tall marble todd; interesting) then drifted, briefly, in the hopes of identifying this “kit”. Had she known a child to be involved her priorities would have shifted substantially . There would be more questions yet for her to press Dusk on regarding what else she had yet to mention, but tonight was neither the time nor place.

Furthermore there was her husband to worry about. Though she had eyed Tal’Rakan with no small amount of intrigue she’d used his report to stay back and cough, taking stock of the survivors. There he was – the glint of metal was difficult to mistake. Again the relief could not show, but the ghost of a smile flitted across her muzzle as she tried to clean her face. Of course he’d survive: he’s the Ironclaw. She’d have to catch up with him soon.

In silence the faux Unsmudgeable stood close to Orina and Dusk, taking her time to respond when ears would not pry. “Never been one much for wine,” Tox groused, “but I’ll drink a full cellar after tonight. ‘Gates alive this was a shambles. Still…” She wrinkled her nose, “I suppose there’s small mercies: the Opera House looks salvageable enough.”

 

[Alwyn Ryalor]

Alwyn was exhausted as he and most of his squad managed to make it out of the burning opera house before it collapsed into a pile of cinders-with Oscar’s body as well, carried by Theo. They were one of the last groups to make it out, trying to ensure as many civilians and others could leave as possible before the whole thing collapsed into a burning pile of rubble. He was in full officer mode, now, after he had regained control of the bloodwrath-something that, deep down, troubled him immensely, and which he tried to keep out of his mind. That was not what Alexei would have wanted for him, that was not the example he wanted to set for Finnian, that was something that Anastasia relished and enjoyed, with her damned demonic sword and her love for bloodshed. He shivered quietly as he carried out orders, and quickly assessed the situation and the status of his squad.

One killed in action, three wounded too much to be useful in a fight, two MIA. Fifty-five percent combat effective, primary objective…

He glanced over at Finnian, who was talking with a dazed, and bloodied, female lizard-a friend?

...secure. Now, the missing...where…?

Alwyn searched around as best as he could, but in all the confusion he could not find either Caden or his cousin. He hoped that they had gotten out safely, but internally, there was consternation. What had happened there? They stuck together. He had put Daniil in command, to secure Asta, and to help out the civilians, but he had not been at his post, and, from what little the rest of the squad had said, had struck out on his own-both against what Caden would have wanted, and direct orders. If he had wanted Caden found, he could have sent a few guardsbeasts, once the situation was secure-not abandon his post. There would have to be a reckoning there, and he did not relish looking forward to that.

He caught glimpses of some of his mother, but he was not yet ready to have that conversation, not until Finnian had reconnected with his friend. Instead, he turned to Theo, who had placed Oscar’s bloodied and mangled body on the ground, quietly awaiting orders from his superior officer. He stared, tired, at his second-in-command’s lifeless body for some time, before turning to Theo.

“Theo...take our wounded, go to the medical area being set up...especially check on that Army vixen, if you can. She suffered a fairly bad wound. I’m sure she is being taken care of properly, but…” his voice cracked a little, as he looked at the corpse of the older stoat “...we take of our own, and our allies. If you can, try to see if you can find my cousin, Asta, and Caden, if they are there.”

“Sir!” Theo replied, saluting before helping the three wounded guardsbeasts go further down the street. Alwyn stood, face ashen, both figuratively and literally, as he contemplated his own responsibility, and the next moves he would take.

These bastards will pay for what they did to my beasts, and to you, Oscar. By the Kitsune, I swear it.

A dangerous, cold fire appeared for a moment in his eyes, even more so than the red rage that had taken over him in his desperate fight to protect Finnian. This was the grim determination that his granduncle and father had, going back in his bloodline for countless generations. A will that had built, and survived the collapse of, an empire. Those responsible for tonight would be cut through like wheat before a scythe.

@FinnianBrightfur @Cricket @Jeshal the Ironclaw @Minerva @Orina Emberkin @Daniil Ryalor

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Cricket’s voice cut through Jeshal’s temporary freeze. The smell of charred wood and the sound of flames had thrown him back to a time of panic long ago, his phantom paw stinging inside the gauntlet.

He snorted in friendly dismissal and nodded at her. “We be even, miss. Ye saved my hide against that slopnosed fool.” With her suspicions, it was better to let her off the hook. She was liable to feel she owed him one regardless, perhaps even more so if he appeared to release her from it.

His attentions strayed across the crowd, trying vainly to spot Tanya in all of this. Doubt seeded him whether she had been at this event at all. Part of him hoped she hadn’t been, especially when he could not find her. He had to trust her. His eye caught upon Dusk, and a vixen he had seen earlier. If he squinted just so, maybe that could be his wife in disguise? She was taller and looked so different, but that was not outside her abilities. He couldn’t be certain and she wouldn’t thank him for blowing her cover if it were. Another glance around and he noted who he was sure was Mina Rose standing with the medics. He was tempted to approach, even to use the excuse of getting his minor injuries treated, but now was not the time. There had been enough excitement for one day.

Once he was sure that Cricket and Finn had one another’s attention, the Ironclaw slipped off, making for the harbour. Kinza and Lorcan would need to be assured that at least one parent had made it out of this mess, and Tanya would be sure to return there if she could. There was a bottle of whiskey with his name on it back home.

@Cricket @FinnianBrightfur @Tanya Keltoi​