The Lights of Aurora [Rhiiii!]

[Blue]

It seemed like it had been quite awhile since her last mission, all her days having been filled with mundane work like pushing papers and entering information into databases. Of course, it wasn’t as though she were bothered by any of that. To be honest, she wasn’t excited to be away from it either.
Pavla was incapable of feeling anything at all, and so she simply went through life, moving from one instance to another, day by day. It likely seemed a strange, hollow, even robotic existence to others - she knew as much from reflecting their emotions and hearing their thoughts. Thus, she was aware her situation was strange and tragic - she simply could not feel these things on her own.

Ah but, back to the mission. Nestled into the ‘saddle’ that sat between Nabal’s wings, she lay flat against it and held onto the specially crafted handles - the seating arrangement helped keep her serpentine dragon aerodynamic and moving quickly through the air. For once, she was not in her form-hiding pantsuit, instead donning the usual riding garb of a body suit and helmet - thus, for once, her angular and well toned build was visible.
On her visor, the blip that was the city of Aurora was growing steadily closer - their destination this evening. In the pitch black of the high altitude flight, she and Nabal were all but invisible in their shades of black.

They were being sent to capture or neutralize a recently discovered psychic. There wasn’t much information on the teenage boy, and thus it was unclear whether or not he’d actually be of use. On top of that, it was pretty likely he was involved in a gang, and so infiltrating his ‘home’ and extracting him would likely prove to be rather difficult.
Since she was on a mission, and one involving the use of Nabal at that, she had ceased replicating or mirroring emotions - in this state, she very much resembled a robot. Although Nabal much preferred the term ‘doll’.
Opening the channel that linked to her fellow Pilot and partner on this mission, she spoke with even deadpan words.
“We are close now. Let’s drop our altitude and find a discreet place to land.”

[Rhi-Rhi]

Aurora. His old stomping grounds.

It felt kinda weird to be back here after so many years, for Shiloh hadn't been here since he'd been drafted. Eight whole years. Damn...

The horizon rose and fell with each beat of Amaranth's wings and it wasn't log before that blip on his visor became a fully formed city beneath them, all twinkling dots and flashing searchlights. Aurora was far less structured than Haviah and it showed; it was a city that was built out rather than up and was thus--Shiloh thought--far less restrictive. It was easier to move around that city without the actual physical barriers separating the castes like in Haviah.

He wondered how much it had changed...

A voice in his ears snapped him out of his thoughts and Shiloh glanced ahead in Pavla's direction. "Roger."

With a thought to Amaranth, they began their descent, spiraling downward in a flash of red scales. This felt good, actually doing something useful, though he wasn't sure what he thought of Pavla yet. She was pretty, but she was so...unreadable. At least he hadn't gotten stuck with someone else, though; she was unreadable, sure, but she at least didn't make him feel stupid.

"We should prolly park way out an' walk th' rest of th' way, yeah?" he said, adjusting his respirator. Wouldn't do to cause a ruckus due to, well...dragons.

[Blue]

“Understood.”
She did not have to send a thought really, Nabal simply acted - he was accustomed to doing so, and there was no reason for Pavla to attempt any arguments. They simply seemed to fall from the sky, twirling slightly - at the last moment, with expertise only centuries could afford, Nabal snapped open his wings and managed a graceful landing, even though he had no limbs. His long snake-like body curled up on the ground, metallic knuckles making large imprints in the earth as he held himself up.
Sliding easily from her dragon’s back, Pavla landed softly on her feet before scanning the cityscape ahead of them. They were on the outskirts, and there was little sign of life, the buildings mostly empty husks.

Turning to her partner, she removed her helmet, inky blue-black hair a bit mussed though she made no attempts at fixing it.
“Your file states you used to live in this city. I must request your knowledge on this mission, as I am unfamiliar with Aurora myself. I leave myself in your hands.” Her voice held no inflection or tone at all, perfectly flat, almost like a machine. Nabal snorted derisively at Pavla being ‘left’ in the other Pilot’s hands, but he chose not to spark antagonism with Amaranth present.
“We sssshall wait nearby. Oncccce the misssion is complete, we can sssset up an extraction point. Keep in touch, humanssss.”
With that, Nabal launched himself back into the air with surprisingly little effort, and his inky black frame disappeared almost instantly into the night sky. He knew Amaranth could not really afford to argue with him - he outranked her by a fair margin. There was no real reason for her to get too pissy though, his orders had been sound, even if he had simply taken over the situation.

“We should get started, Cardinal Lockwood. Please, lead the way.”

[Rhi-Rhi]

Dust rose in great clouds as Amaranth landed gracefully, fanning her wings like a swan before folding them in tight. She crouched down low so Shiloh could slip off her back and then she sat there patiently, waiting to see if anything else was needed.

Shiloh gave her side a light slap, feeling her warmth through his gloves. Compared to many other dragons, Amaranth had always been warmer than usual. She'd always claimed it was because she was born from the earth, deep down inside where the fire was, though her memories of that time were hazy. That probably had something to do with the huge metal plate covering the majority of her head.

He had just removed his helmet and tucked it away into the saddlebags when Pavla spoke, and Shiloh snapped to attention, prepared to follow orders.

He hadn't been prepared for her orders to be...that. Wait, what? His jaw dropped open and he could only stare at Pavla, speechless and blindsided.

"Take care," Amaranth said, having no arguments with what Nabal said. She was not a dragon interested in power grabs or struggles and had always been content with her lower position; frankly, she was too lazy for that and would much rather be sunbathing. She snapped her wings open. "We'll be in touch." And with that said, she took to the air again, swiftly gaining on Nabal.

Shiloh was still gaping at Pavla when she spoke again.

He gaped at her still for seconds after she'd finished, and only found his voice again when he realized she was done talking and he should be responding before the silence got too awkward.

"I...buh...me?" he finally stammered, then shook himself. Shit! Way to show he could handle this! "I--right! Yeah! Yeah, sure! I can do tha'! Uh, this place, I grew up here! Know it like th' back of m'hand! Been some years but ain't no biggie. C'mon! Er, ma'am, I mean. Follow me, ma'am, tha' is."

Straightening himself up proudly (and trying hard to keep a "professional" face and failing--he kept breaking into a grin) he motioned for her to follow as he started off into the city. Here the ground was a mess of disrepair and disuse; this far out on the outskirts, it was no more than broken concrete and asphalt. No one lived over here, but once they got in a little deeper, they'd reach the actual slums. He was quite familiar with that area.

"Ain't changed much," he said.

[Blue]

She bowed her head a bit once Shiloh finally found his words, and it seemed that his awkward silence had not bothered her in the least. Then again, she’d been able to read all his emotions, so it was not as though she was in the dark as to why he’d gone silent. Of course, she didn’t feel anything for it one way or another - one of the nice things about not having emotions was that you generally did not have an ego either. Despite their difference in rank, Pavla treated Shiloh like an equal.
Then again, she treated everyone like an equal.

“Thank you, Cardinal Lockwood.”
She followed along a few paces behind him, rich chocolate brown eyes taking in their surroundings with sharp efficiency. So far it seemed that they were in the deserted outskirts of the city, and that the next section would likely be the slums. Still in her riding suit, she knew she would not blend in, and the gun on her hip would likely draw attention. Hopefully nobody would be foolish enough to try anything…she would much rather save her energy for the task at hand.

At his comment, she glanced at his back. She knew from his files that he had a past here - that was the main reason she requested him for this mission.
“It has been eight years, correct?”
She of course knew the answer, but it was her only real attempt at small talk - not something she was particularly good at, as one might imagine.
“How do you suggest we deal with the gang members, should we encounter them? Neutralization would likely be the most efficient, although I find it likely that they will fight back.”

[Rhi-Rhi]

"Neutral...wha?" Shiloh glanced back at Pavla and raised both eyebrows. He knew what neutral meant just fine, that it was kind of that line between good and evil, or happy and sad, or the gear you shifted a car into when you wanted it to do nothing; it was like a great big nothing-space. But his brow knit as he tried to work out what that meant when applied to doing something to people. Make them...stop moving? That was as close as he figured.

"Ya mean like...kill 'em?" he asked, and shook his head quickly, trying not to look horrified. "Naw! They'll fight back but they ain't like...trained an' shit. Lotta kids. More like they'll jus' be scared."

He was speaking from experience there. Back when he was young and lived here, he'd run with a gang. Well, if you wanted to call it that. Bunch of misfits and delinquents that thumbed their noses at the cops and sometimes got a hold of guns and shit but usually didn't know how to use 'em well. Mostly they did a lot of petty shit to feel big--or to get by. Shiloh mostly shoplifted.

But that was his memory of things eight years ago, and the kids he'd hung out with had been his age. There had been some older ones, though; they got into the bigger crimes.

"They're scared of Pilots over here, mostly. An' we stand out, way we're dressed. They'll prolly run 'til we corner 'em an' tha's when shit'll get real." He touched the gun at his hip, considering the situation, and then shrugged at Pavla. "We oughta be able t' take 'em fine. Give 'em a scare."

[Blue]

There were a few things that stood out to her easily as her fellow pilot spoke.
First of all, it was evident Shiloh did not have a large vocabulary. However, he showed himself capable of determining the meaning of the word anyway - confirmed by his appropriate ‘guess’ at the word’s definition.
Secondly, Shiloh had an overwhelming desire not to kill the young gangsters of the area. His emotional response had been loud and clear.
The third thing? Cardinal Lockwood seemed to be a good person, at least on a basic level.

Still following along after her partner, she waited until he was done speaking before saying anything herself. It was only polite, after all.
“Very well. I will attempt to suppress them with non-violence first. If we do run into this resistance from the gang, it would be best to corner them. My methods are most efficient when my targets are close together.”
Pavla was nothing if not a master of her Empathic skills - even to the point of using them offensively. Adjusting her tactics to appease Shiloh’s desire not to kill anyone was surprisingly easy for her. As they walked, she removed a glove and reached into the small pack that sat just at the small of her back. Inside were a few orbs, about the size of a baseball, and she touched the cool surface of one with her bare fingers. All she did was impress upon the orb, and more importantly what was inside it, with an intense emotion - in this case, acute terror. Fear so intense it would steal the strength out of most people, and likely cause many others to simply faint. Set up complete, she withdrew the ball and held it cupped in her hand as she walked, arm at her side comfortably so as not to attract attention to the orb in her grasp.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Shiloh blinked at Pavla. She had a funny way of talking, that one. Very proper. It was kinda weird and not at all what he was used to, not even from most of the higher-ups unless they were trying to be douchey and confusing. But she wasn't very confusing, pretty plain-spoken and all, just...something was off about her.

He was realizing more and more that she was kind of...blank.

"Yeah, sounds good," Shiloh said after a pause, silently wondering what she had in mind. He knew she was an empath and a real good one, too. Probably one of the best. "Shouldn't be tha' hard. They ain't got many places ta run."

Oblivious to her preparations, Shiloh turned back toward the city and started to veer off to the left, into a alleyway that lead out onto a street that had potholes like the moon had craters. The slummy part that the rest of the city and well-to-dos largely ignored. It was a pretty sorry sight, worse than he remembered--but then again, he'd just been a child back then.

In the distance, an old warehouse loomed, and after reading the address numbers on some of the other buildings, that was where Shiloh headed. "Reckon tha's our hideout," he said.

[Blue]

She nodded curtly to his words, filing it away in the brief amount of information she had on this particular mission. Then again ‘seek and find’ missions tended to be a little bare bones when it came to information, with only a location and a basic description in most cases. If they were not risky, there would be no need for Pilots, right?
The clacking of her heels was somewhat muted on the dirty street, and she stepped over and around potholes with smooth grace without ever once having to look down. With her vague connection to Shiloh, she knew the building when he did, her dark liquid brown eyes focusing in on their target with pinpoint intensity.
“Roger that.”

Mission begin.

It was dark and she was garbed in black, like a shadowy specter. Without a sound she lengthened her stride, pulling ahead of her partner with ease and moving with purposeful strides straight for the entrance to the building.
One, two, three…she was nearly there.
She opened herself up, her mind spiraling out and reaching, feeling all those within, their thoughts and their feelings.
Her hand, cupping the orb, came up at her side.
And then a boot clad foot was crashing into the door, sending it splintering off it’s hinges with a nerve jolting crash.

She threw the orb fast and low, the silver thing skittering across the industrial concrete flooring after bouncing twice.
And then all hell broke loose.
There was a snap-bang, loud and abrupt, with a nearly blinding flash to accompany it. The orb she had tossed exploded with force, sending much smaller black marbles ricocheting in every which direction. There were shouts and screams, both of pain and confusion, before a bizarre quiet took over the chaos.
And then there was crying, or half choked sobs, echoing through the settling dust.
Those marbles, imprinted with her intense emotional stamp, gifted whoever had been hit or was in very close proximity with an intense sense of terror.

Having jumped away from the door and crouched low nearby, just in case somebody started shooting, Pavla already had a few of those black marbles in her bare hand, ready to be used as ‘weapons’ against those whom had escaped her opening move.
How was that for offensive empathy?

[Rhi-Rhi]

Shiloh had his gun out and ready in a two-handed grip, but it didn't look like he'd have to use it.

Because by the time he got inside the warehouse, Pavla had already turned the lot into a mess of cringing, sobbing, and whimpering. Cowering near the back of the warehouse, the teens had dropped their weapons--mostly knives and shivs, though one older girl was holding a gun in trembling fingers, unable to use it, tears streaming down her cheeks. Wouldn't surprise him if the safety were still on.

...Well, shiiiit. He knew Pavla was an empath and all, and his best friend was one too, but he'd always just seen, well...the gentle, soft side of it.

Damn. That shit was kinda scary.

He stepped into the warehouse, sideways to present a smaller target, aimed into the room, and visually scanned the area. "Jus' do wha' we say an' ain't no one gettin' hurt," he said, loud enough to be heard though his voice was eerily calm and controlled, authoritarian. "Everyone, jus' sit down an' stay put. Hands up an' where we can see 'em. If ya move, you'll be shot."

They'd come here for just one kid, but this would be a bad day for the lot of them. Once they'd apprehended the psychic, they'd have to wait here until the police showed up to take care of the rest. Looked like they'd be easy enough to deal with, just a bunch of dumb kids (lawbreaking kids, at that) and all and most of them frozen in abject terror.

Slowly, some of the kids began to sit, and Shiloh stepped further inside. It was dark in there and hard to see, but he squinted and stared at their faces, trying to see if any of them matched the profile they'd been given.

[Blue]

She followed her partner in silently, also moving in sideways one step at a time. Her bare hand still held the marbles, again imprinted with terrible emotion, but in her other hand was her gun. She was fully prepared for resistance, but for the moment, there did not seem to be any. Her initial attack had done it’s job, striking seemingly everyone with overwhelming terror.
She too scanned through the dark at the tear streaked faces, wondering if it would be possible to make a match in this dim light, while simultaneously making sure not to get themselves injured. With the place now saturated with rampant emotions, she could not get an individual read on anyone - thus if there were more people deeper within that she had missed, she could not tell.

“I will cover you, if you would like to perform a more thorough search. If one of us watches out for potential attacks, the other can more completely devote themselves to finding the boy we are here for. Does this plan suit you Cardinal Lockwood?”

[Rhi-Rhi]

"Uhhh...yeah." Damn, that was an awful lot of words to say 'search and I'll cover you, and Shiloh was, more and more, realizing just how strange this woman was.

He kept his gun trained on the kids until each one was seated and he could count all their hands. With a nod Pavla's way, he stepped further inside the building, boots crunching on broken glass and paint flakes. It was difficult to be totally stealthy in the run-down building, but he wasn't trying to be particularly quiet, either; these kids were amateurs, young and untrained. They were more prone to panicking and causing a ruckus than getting the jump on them.

Of course, panicking also meant they did stupid, dangerous things.

Like pulling a gun and firing desperately at him when he peeked cautiously into one of the rooms.

[Blue]

The report of a gun echoed harshly in the dilapidated building, layered up on it’s own echo and the following shots fired, until it was a nearly deafening series of blasts that took chunks out of the half rotted wall. But it was after that first shot, that first bone-jarring surprise bullet that took a neat divot out of the frame just inches from Shiloh’s face, that Pavla went into action. Likely Shiloh’s own highly honed reflexes, and likely a fair bit of psychic power, were already kicking into gear - she simply facilitated this with her action.
Which was to reach out, grab his suit by the scruff of the neck, and pull him backward and away from danger - likely at the same time he himself was jerking backward no doubt, so perhaps it was a little too much momentum. She had no time to think about that however, for at the same time she was responding with her free hand - the bare one still clutching those strange obsidian marbles.

With naught but a jerk of the wrist, practically a twitch, she flicked the lot of them at the hallway wall. As if following perfect pre-made angles, the marbles bounced off the wall and skittered into the room almost faster than the eye could follow - little seeds of dispair that would emotionally cripple whoever was shooting at them in the room.

And then her previous action caught up with her…as suddenly she had a Shiloh sized meat bag running right into her in a less than graceful manner.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Shiloh gasped and jerked back, felt bullets whiz by his face--and before he could catch his balance, he felt someone grab him by the collar and yank.

Shiloh had never been graceful. He could beat the shit out of someone just fine, but could he land on his own two feet without tripping? That was another story.

His back hit Pavla's chest and the back of his head cracked into something and, with a yelp, he flailed and topped over, taking Pavla down with him. Fortunately for him, he had a soft landing. Unfortunately for Pavla, it was her.

Fortunately for the both of them, Pavla's orbs had done their business, otherwise they may have found themselves in a very vulnerable position. Now, with Shiloh sprawled atop her, it was just awkward.

[Blue]

If two Pilots topple over in an abandoned warehouse full of mind-fucked delinquents…

There was a dull thud and a couple of winded ‘oofs’ to accompany their ungraceful decent to the dirty cracked flooring. Pavla had become a living landing pad for her partner, and she was well aware of how unpleasant such an experience was.
That ‘something’ his head had cracked into turned out to be her nose, which was unleashing a sticky warm torrent down her face. She had to blink the stars from her vision, and breath through her mouth in sharp gasps, before being able to get her wits about her. Pain was spidering through her face, but she knew her wound to not be of the truly dangerous sort. Her voice came out flat but awkwardly paced around her attempts at pulling air into her chest - when the wind is knocked out of you, it is surprisingly difficult to regain your breath.
“Cardinal…Lockwood…you are…compressing my chest…”

Aka ‘please get off me before I’m crushed.’
At least nobody was shooting at them for the moment.

[Rhi-Rhi]

For a second, Shiloh just lay there, disoriented and wondering how the hell that had just happened. But then from beneath him, Pavla spoke, and it took him a moment to parse what she was saying. Compressing her...he jolted in alarm. OH SHIT. "Guh!"

He rolled off of her and rose to his knees, started to rise to his feet, but then he saw her bloody face--nose running like a fucking river!--and grimaced. Shiiiit! He'd done that to her! He'd done that to a fuckin' Royal!

"Shit! Fuck! Sorry!" he said, and then abruptly remembered where they were, and that he'd nearly been shot.

Not that there was much risk of it now, not from the kids in that room; they would be crippled. Reaching down, he offered his hand, just because he felt kind of bad for bashing her nose and crushing her and all.

"Uh. Y'okay?" He hoped it was just her nose that he'd hurt, and that she hadn't slammed her head on the ground or anything.

[Blue]

Without over a hundred pounds of person laying on her, Pavla found it much easier to breathe. Still rather awkward, as she couldn’t use her nose, but it was an improvement. Her body was throbbing painfully in quite a few places, and she took a moment laying there to take stock of all the injuries.
Not the most graceful maneuver she’d ever done, but things happened. Especially when someone was shooting at you, or your partner.

She blinked at his hand, before reaching up and grabbing it and gladly using his solidly planted form to help pull herself up into a sitting position.
The world twisted dangerously for a moment.
She realized her bare hand was touching him now, and she took the opportunity to check him for injuries - or rather, pain. He seemed in far better shape than herself.
“It is good that you are uninjured.”
She left her hand in his grasp until he chose to release her himself.
“I have a broken nose, and possibly a mild concussion. Nothing serious, mostly superficial. I would estimate my battle readiness has dropped about five to ten percent - nothing that would require a mission abort.”
She blinked those strangely flat brown eyes at him.
“There is no need to worry. You are not in any trouble, as the fault is mine.”

[Rhi-Rhi]

Shiloh glanced down at their joined hands, then back at her. Most people would have let go by then, but maybe she still needed the support or something? Maybe she wasn't doing so hot after all; she was talking like a robot, with her percentages and math shit.

"Uh...five ta ten percent outta a hundred or...?"

There was noise from the other room, a scuffling sound and a moan, like someone was coming to and trying to get back up. Shiloh snatched up his gun and, other hand still clasping Pavla's, pulled her to her feet. Only then did he release her, and only so he could draw his gun and, slowly, edge toward the room. There was no time for apologies and shit right now, they had a mission to finish--before those little weasels came back to.

"Cover me," he said, right before he slipped into the room. One of the kids was reaching for a gun--probably the very one that had nearly shot him--and he sent a quick whip of telekinesis out at it, striking it right from his hand.

"Don't fuckin' move!"

Hopefully take two would go a lot more smoothly.

[Blue]

“Affirmative.”
She replied softly to his question. At the sensation of movement in the other room, she was hauled to her feet rather quickly. It was time to work, but she found herself swaying for a split second.
She clamped down on the sudden wave of illness that was coming from somewhere at the back of her throat.
The order to cover him was given, and she withdrew her gun, breathing quietly through her mouth as her nose was still a river of red and swelling.

Skirting around the door after him, she kept the gun pointed at the few remaining teenagers, as Shiloh clearly had the shooter under his watchful gaze.
Things seemed a bit muffled to her senses right then, but she had the experience of years and psionic training to help her keep a clear mind despite the concussion.
“Does anyone match the description? I have felt no psychic presence here as of yet.”

[Rhi-Rhi]

"Nah," Shiloh answered, frowning. He could also feel no psychic presence here, and none of them matched the description. Damn. That meant they still had a ways to go--if the perp was even still here.

"Alright, people, turn an' put yer hands on th' wall! High up, where we can see 'em!" he barked, gun never straying from its target. Terrified, the kids turned to obey and Shiloh stepped into the room. There was a computer in there, old and broken down, and an old phone--all garbage--but Shiloh, ever resourceful, broke them down quick with the aid of some psionics so he could harvest their cords.

Freeing up some cord, he approached the former gunman and wrenched his hands behind his back so he could tie his hands. No sense in letting them escape before the police got there. That done, he quickly moved to do the same to the others.