PART 2, Where do the bad ones go, and PART 3 - RPLOG

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Participants

Date

4/9/2014

Log



The rain falls fast and hard, but while the drops that fall no longer turn to ice just before hitting, they are still frigidly cold, the only grace being Randel. His face a work of concentration as he gently heats the area, bringing warmth to fight back while all around the broken glass sticking out of the street starts to cover with ice, rain falling in spattering sheets and trickling across the road where just outside your circle, it quickly freezes. The screams coming from that imposing building up the way are more gutteral now, some sounding like they're tortured, in extreme pain and suffering and others...well, you know that sound. You've heard it far too often not to realize that someone is in the throes of passion, the intense sensations of first mating in a new form. So very close to the sounds of madness. Ahead you see a watchtower, ice and frost clinging to the structure in heavy icicles, spikes that grow as you watch and the thunder rages overhead. Ice, Knives of Glass and unsure footing that is getting worse by the minute! The fire behind you was extinguished with the rain, and now the only light is what you carry with you, sometimes aided by lightning that burns your eyes when it fades, leaving you blind for just a few seconds each time...

Narg is so very grateful to be immune to the cold as she warily continues her venture foreward with the rest of the group. Her finger ready to ire her pistol should she need to but off the trigger so she doesn't wind up being trigger happy.

The large, obsidian scaled draconic beast is quite thermal resistant as well, but he does have the forethought to give whatever protection he has to offer. Given the bad terrain, he walks on all fours, thick mat-black crystalline-carbon armor and hide plating padding him from the jagged glass on the ground. He occasionally kicks and shakes a claw, throwing off stuck glass that's irritating him. A deep rumbling can be heard from him, his eyes focused ahead, dead set on stopping the madding screams. The rumbling is actually talking! "I see a red door and I want it painted black...No colors any more, I want them to turn black..." Those following behind, they get an unnerving sight between his legs. It appears that he's got a hard-on for battle, and those four things surely don't look like they are meant for love making. Those shafts look to be made out of the similar jagged obsidian casing that covers the rest of his large form.

Cyrus noticing Epsilon's reaction to the cold and Randel's own radiant heat, Cyrus focuses her own abilities to expand her heat outward to aid her allies and combat the growing cold. It, however, is difficult for her to focus too much with her mind so shaken by the situation, heat rolling off her body in uncontroled waves and spikes, the matter only becoming more difficult as she sees Randel getting onto his fours, but her mind quickly becomes focused on his erect cock. Though terrified, she cannot bring herself to remove her eyes from the length. Perhaps a blessing, distracting her from her fear, or perhaps just heat overriding her already feeble mind into something more primal.

Seguro shakes hir camouflaged gleaming wings, trying to shake them free from the buildup of ice, the dragon begins to grumbles under hir breath. "This form of mine is hardly suited for the cold weather, wait�c I�c could. "The dragon's scales begin to suddenly shift, prickling, shivers and finally puckers, a thin mist of frost rising from its surface before it finally solidifies over the dragon's hide. Shortly after, feathers of various lengths start sprouting from the dragon's new, icy skin, catching the light in all sorts of interesting and beautiful ways. The dragon begins to chuckles. "This will work, but I hate feathers." The dragon's gaze returns to watching, hir sun hued eyes scanning the streets below, searching for anything of note that may be of use to hir team.

Seguro's skin becomes that of an Icy Phoenix.

Benjamin grunts as he pulls himself through a tight squeeze under a tipped vending machine that was blocking the back entrance, the building he had taken shelter in was slowly flooding and he wanted to get out as quickly as possible. Once through he pulls the heavy cloak tightly over himself trying to shield himself against the cold. The catboi sighs and looks about for another option for shelter and spots the group moving through the streets. The large form of Randel gave him cause for pause, but the others around him seemed too well equiped to be feral and he walks carefully closer. "Hey... Friendly?"

From some secluded spot nearby, Thelergramor approaches the group of agents. The arctic fox has his SV-98 bolt action rifle in hand; is less than concerned by the 'monster' that has been tearing through the area. The sounds from the building, the tortured ones, are met with some disgust from the fox. His scarf is pulled up over his muzzle as he speaks to the group. The cold mans barely warmed by the heat; his naturally low temperature body clashing with the aura from Randel. "Alright. What's going on here?" The fox sounds tired; he corrects himself: "I mean, what are you here for?" The rain not bothering him in the slightest. As he wears no shoes, Thel tries to keep his distance from the glass when he can.

The wind and cold blow through, gently ruffling your cloaks while the Nanites in the area agitate under the influence of both Cyrus and Randels efforts, warming everyone one and everything in the area. The distracting noise of whistles and grunts, shivering howls rising from different spots around as enemies forget what they were fighting for and huddle for warmth in the buildings, the young at the center of large mounds of shifting fur, trying to find the center while not being crushed. You see one such pile on the main floor of the building on the street opposite the open gate, eyes looking at you with fear, and only a half-hearted snarl here and there, mostly envy and whines for help from the ferals. The Watches on all your comms beep twice with the hour-chime, telling you it's 9pm on the second of September, and sounding deadly loud in the dark, noise stopping from everywhere at once. The only sound now, is the deathly quiet murr of the icy wind, striking the ice on the glass and making it crinkle with the sounds of crystal ice, ringing and marvelous as music itself. The Watchtower through the gate of the factory, just past the sign, looks abandoned, the rain that fell so heavily and briefly has coated it with thick icicles, daggers that seem to all be flowing toward the far wall, where the wind whipped them. The upper floor shows a very, very faint light, and shadows dancing behind it, maybe a gas light?

Narg makes sure that as she approaches that she doesn't get underneath any dangerous looking icicles. Her eyes glance on up towards the light in the window howecer nand wits for the rest to catch up... the husky not paying much attention to Thel while there are more important things to take care of, most notably the goal ahead. The ferals nearby get a gentle nod but little else. She doesn't have anything offer them, having planned for an engagement not aid.

Randel slowly lumbers along, swivel-necking around, if only because he has no real target to throw himself at. When hearing the snarls and whines, he snaps his head to the source of the sound, and growls deeply. He's taken aback when seeing such a pile of pour creatures and before people realize it, they 'hear' something, and hear it very clearly in their minds. {{We are here to attack a bad creature. If you are brave enough, you can follow us and attack it as well. I will warm you as best as I can.}} It seems like he's talking to the ferals with the nanite telepathy. {{Obey us if you do follow. If you cannot obey, fuck off. You are useless to us}} Yeah, he is... It may be a waste of time, but he seems to value these crazed beasts to a large degree.

Cyrus stares hungrily at Randel's brace of cocks, her hands slowly slipping away from Epsilon's form as she steps closer to the drake. The scent of her needy arousal rising off of her heated sex, nanites run amok as steam seems to literally rise from her slit as she steps closer, her massive hooves crushing glass and ice below as she moves closer. In the back of her mind, a rapidly shrinking point of rational thought, tells her this is not the time nor the place, but she could not bring herself to stop moving. The thick scent of lust that had hung so heavily in the air, her own heat, and weak will, it was too much for her to resist. God, and he was so big too, bigger than her. How could she resist having such large cocks fill her holes? They might hurt, but they looked so hard, and she was a bit of a glutton for pain, evidence by her collar and the now freely ringing bell that hung from it.

Seguro Spies the light off in the distance, the dragon's now camouflaged hidden, feathered, icy adapted wings dips as dragon banks, as shi goes in for a closer look at the at the light in the distance, circling the compound a few times before getting closer a closer look.

The catboi grunts indignantly as the group seems to ignore him entirely, but he tried to reign in his anger and willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps they had not heard him over the howling wind. "Hey There!! Friend or Foe?!" He calls out again, louder this time as to try and penetrate the wind. He crept slowly closer but was making sure to stay back far enough that if they decided to open fire on him that he had a chancce to dive for cover and slip away.

Thelergramor frowns at the ferals, though they don't seem hostile enough to warrant shooting. The fox checks his rifle. Loaded. Good. The fox picks up on what Randel is 'saying', doesn't point out that those ferals are not worth their time. As Cyrus approaches the cocks, that stare quite apparent to Thel. He walks in front of Cyrus. "...Not a good time to fuck around, right?" The fox then looks to the catboi. "Friend, probably. They ignored you, yes? Me too. So, fuck it. I'm going with them." Thel looks off toward where Seg went, of course recognizing that one. "So, again, what are you all doing here?"

The light in the tower wavers slightly, but doesn't go out. There might have just been a bit of wind that blew it to dancing, or was it a person? You can't tell, but there is light coming down from above you, the ladders, two of them, climbing up the metal and plastic structure, evidently reinforced as the Nanites weaken it slowly. The smell of blood is strong, and comes from inside the compound gate, and around the corner, the nearby manfactory and storage area evidently the source, by the direction of the blast. Chiming crystals of ice continue to form slowly on some surfaces, the rain that stopped earlie comes back, but not as you would have expected. Snow; heavy and large flakes of powder-white shimmer as they fall, the ice-coated glass outside crinkling and sparkling with moonlight.

A couple of Feral souls make their way over, to sniff at the gate and what you thought were just wear and damage marks in the concrete and steel. They're not. You see what they're sniffing at and it's...hard to believe. Claws. Through thick armored steel, tearing it and the stone overtop like they were balsa over a nail. The Ferals look to you and then glance to the left, shivering from more than the cold but, they step forward. One step at a time, till they're with Randel, cold and shivering still, but warming, slowly.

The two new members, Benjamin? Thelergramor? Who are they? And how did they get here? There are...sounds, now, in the quiet night, the lightning still off in the distance. Like...the creak of huge pads and claws on metal. Close, but...what? Where?

Husky ears tilt back to look at Benji and Thel, her lusty eyes roaming over both of them before she shakes her head clear to focus on the job at hand... and as lax as she is to break silence she calls back towards the pair. "We are here investigating a beast that has been reying on caravans coming through here. Now would you two cuties be quiet. We don't need to draw it to our voices."

Randel looks on at the ferals, and smiles when seeing a couple join up. He always likes it when ferals are not only non-hostile, but are actively helpful. He frowns a bit when seeing what the new help as pointed out. But before he can investigate it, more people show up. What, really? Where thought the others where covering his back. After seeing Narg explain things, he sighs in relief and goes to look at the damaged armor. He could cut such a thing into such material as well, but would take him a good while.

Again interrupted! He turns around, hearing talk behind him as Cyrus starts to lose focus on what's really important. {{I wouldn't do that if I were you}} is heard in the bovine girl's mind, and only in her mind. The mental image, like that of a distant past memory is shared with just Cyrus. She is being mated, but by just one of those cocks. It slips in, and slips in smoothly, very smoothly.. and wetly.. and warmly.. and sickeningly. Looking down that isn't precum, or femme honey, or cum running down her leg, it's blood! The jagged shaft slides in deeper, and not at all in a healthy way! Thankfully Cyrus doesn't get this mental image as a fresh traumatic memory, nor can Randel even hope to do such a thing of such magnitude, even if he wanted to, but the idea of screaming for him to stop, and being left to bleed out by the very sex that urged her to want to mate with such a horrid thing should be enough of a mood kill to keep her off his ass for some time. The whole mental picture is but a moment, but the detail...

He looks back again at his objective, and at the light that may or may not be important. Through the comms he says, "I really don't like this. This reeks of supernatural, as much as it reeks of blood. This isn't my strong suit, does someone have an idea what the /bloody fuck/ we are going up against?" He looks at his new, but albeit simple minded allies and says to them {{Stay close, this may get scary. If this goes well, good lay for all.}} and them makes a deep chuckle. Sure it's cheap, and literally below the belt, if one were to wear a belt, but he has to motivate the beasts somehow.

Cyrus ignores the new arrivals as she steps closer, walking right over Thel as though he were a toy to be disregarded, her focus so trained on Randel's shafts that nothing else, not even the commotion or the ferals huddling under the target of her desire causing her to stop or flinch. She licks her lips and her tail stretches out, lithely moving to stroke up and down her wanton slit as she grows closer. She begins to whimper and hastens her pace, hooves clapping on the ground, shattering shards of glass and ice as she lowers her top half, sliding in underneath the dragon. She licks her lips as she grabs one of the cocks, the images in her mind only making her more eager, hoping that her own nanite and restorative abilities can keep her healthy enough to feel that cock inside of her. Her muzzle opens and she takes the thick length into her muzzle, jaw stretching wide as she forces it down her throat. The rational part of her mind was small and hidden she could not hear the slightest whisper of it as she slathered the literally rock hard length with her tongue.

Seguro circles over the compound from the air, keeping careful watch over the area hidden under what benefit hir camouflage provides, the snow and rain pummeling hir as shi searches for a place to land. Seguro calls to hir comrades over the com. "Sorry its getting a little too dangerous to stay in the air, there is not much more I can do from up here. Is there any place safe you could find me to land? A fire escape or roof top perhaps, I would not want to land on a skylight?" From the air the dragon continues to search the area.

Thelergramor shrugs. "If it hears us, we don't need to look for it." The fox follows after Narg, glancing about the group. Has no idea where they should be going, so, he just follows the others. But, as Cyrus gets all on that dick, the fox tries to shove the woman off of it. Doesn't have any real answer for Seguro.

The catch at the base of the Watch-Tower nearby bangs open with a crack of ice, loose icicles falling all around you from the nearby structure. The movement forward having brought you close enough to see it from the base. Looking up, that same wavering light is showing inside, as Seguro throws a large shadow onto the snow around you, the loud beating of his wings a non-stop *(thump)*,*(thump)* around you. The building close by looks like it's been jumped all over, claw-marks in the covered sections, makeshift roof-tiles to hold out the sun and rain, as well as metal slats all showing the pressed claws of some great beast. The tower, seems to beckon again, a wind slamming the trap door back into the structure with a loud clang, a surprised whimper from the two beast-men with Randel, and a flutter as a group of Gryphons takes off from a nearbye building, on the hunt by the moon.

Narg shakes her head and continues foreward. She is getting tired of this and she sets about looking for a way up to the lit room as she hits her comm. "There should be a rather flat building roof not too far from here. Unless you want to just drop down here to the street." The Husky grumbles a bit and gets to workagain, tail flicking agitatedly as the quarry draws ever closer.

Seguro flies in close to the ground, hovering shi treads the air using the down draft from the beating of hir great wings to clear the snow from underneath her, rising a great white cloud around hir. Upon shi has checked the area for glass, Seguro touches down.

PART 3, When Hell Freezes Over

Randel growls softy to himself, ready, but not filling fully ready. He still waits for someone to hopefully chime in on what maybe this possibly supernatural frozen hell may be. He stops again not really believing that damn masochistic cow. The thought of making good on his what was a half-joking comment on trying to snap or sever hir neck when about to compromise things, but doesn't. {{Let hir suck glass cock.}} he messages in an annoyed tone, {{We don't have /time/ to disable hir and wait for hir to heal back up. Besides, that's ironically my best healing part.}} He looks around again, not really helping Cyrus suck him off, but not really stopping hir either. {{Really, any clue as to the objective?}} he messages telepathically, including the two helping ferals, {{I'm so pissed off I'm actually wanting to use razor cocks on the fucker.}} After that comment he mutters, which may or may not be heard by others, "And I have never thought to use them again, ever..."

The striking wind lets the ice flow slowly over the ground, leftover heat from the daytime sun making rain-melt follow channels in the dirt, slowly freezing at the top before more water flows onto that, creating lumps of solid crystal, the ice so pure it looks clear, while snow contiues to fall in an increasing torrent. Above you, in the lonely watchtower, that door bangs again on the pilon, making a rattling chime as screws and bolts flex and pop with the temperature drop and a sound like the roll of a jar hitting the wooden floor rings loudly inside. It goes on before a small thump rings, like it hit a wall. Inside the nearby building all is dark, the snow is quickly covering the open door and piling up in front of it as a drift, erasing any tracks you might find while the ground starts to freeze solid. Behind you, the mutants look to your group through the gate, wary eyes watchful as the two with Randel pace him, always staying close and Cyrus cuts her mouth and throat wide on the first insertion of Randel into herself.

In the distance, the sound of a chopper can be heard, seeming to come slowly closer in the raging storm, a spotlight slamming through the whiteout and still only barely seen by the team on the ground. Your comms blink without beeping, and a text message appears "Personnel Inbound: Anbessa. Details to follow" With no more explanation forthcoming, the light stops blinking as the sounds of rotors comes ever closer.

Cyrus's tongue slides along the crystalline length, the taste of blood covering her taste buds as her body rushed to undo the damage done to it. Her mouth began to salivate water based lube, her driven mind too dull to realize it was the sharp length causing her tongue to bleed, but uncaring for the condition so long as she got the male ready to penetrate her needy, heated mound. Still, the pain was white hot and distracting, her rational mind shouting out a little more clearly to stop, the echo reverberating in her mind not quite loud enough to make her pull the length from her mouth, but to at least get her to get it out of her throat, giving her some minor relief from the pain.

Core has barely been speaking at all, or hardly even looking around, for the past few minutes, just focusing on staying warm. The heat that was surrounding her before does nothing against the cold, and even seems to make the icy chill bite at her worse, somehow. Finally she looks up, and just stares at the watchtower. "I wonder if that will hold our weight," she wonders out loud. She looks over her companions, then back at the tower, an increasingly dubious expression on her face. Then, louder, again: "I wonder if this would hold our weight."

Thelergramor scowls at Cyrus and Randel, though his expression is hidden behind his scarf. "Fucking slut... Seriously, here? On that?" Thel shakes his head; he's in rut, but in control. His sniper in hand, the fox heads toward the door to the nearby building. The snow drift blocking it; it might be difficult to open. The fox attempts it anyway.

Seguro shivers, the large herm dragon makes hir way back to hir comrades, arms folded, the dragon breaths a sigh of relief crossing the threshold of Randel's nano magic thermal barrier. The dragon Shi turns to speak to hir group mate. "Hello again, we seemed to pick up some tag along. " The dragon gazes at the wide open surroundings of the parking lot. "I think Thel for once has the right idea we should get off the streets. I would rather meet this foe on our terms, not his. Investigating one of the buildings for clues is a smarter move, now that the tracks are gone." The 17ft dragon moves to help Thelergramor clear the snow from the door, hir great claws moving the snow away from the door.

From within the helicopter flying in from up above, a lone, black suited figure hums to himself as his gloved hands tippy tap at the handle within. With his bright silver eyes gazing out into the snow storm, a small part of him really doesn't want to open the door, even when he gets to his destination. Though as the ping down below warns them of his arrival, he sends out his own ping as well with a short voice message to those below. "Anbessa here. Going to be providing Heavy support from up above for a bit until I can meet up with you all." With his explaination short and sweet, he sighs lightly as the movement of the helicopter slows, soon enough coming to hover a bit over a building nearby. With a short nod of his head and his hand gripping his Assault rifle, the human stands up as he steps towards the door. The bellowing wind almost threatens to topple him over as he slides open the door, but takes a short moment to gaze over the edge to look down at the snowy building top before he pushes off, letting out a loud grunt as he makes his slightly rough landing. Better than landing down in the streets anyway. Standing back up straight, he finally places both hands upon his personal Steyr AUG before he gazes over towards the edge. Padding over, the people below see a brief flicker of green light appear up a bit above. Across the COM unit, they get another message. "Instead of blinding you all in snow from the chopper, going to make my way down to you guys."

Benjamin mewls softly as he checks he pistol and takes count of how many grenades he has left. Seeing Seguro the catboi smiles and moves to help her move the snow out of the doorway. "Hey Seg, what is going on. What is with all these other people?" He asks while slipping the pistol into his chest harness and starts to dig at the snow.

The tower moves in the wind, the ice at the base dripping under the effect of the melting ice while the door is slowly cleared (Seguro, Thelergramor, roll Strength and Perception), but the work goes slowly. Ice has already formed at the lower layers where water melted and flowed down the side of the building, requiring claws to chip and scrape away at it.

Glancing to the tower (Anyone who is looking to go up, roll Perception and Climbing) it looks like it is often patched and worked over, made secure and does have some shielding on it at points, to allow a climber to make their way up under fire in relative safety. There is a loud "Whuff!" that comes from inside, and another long, low moan, sounding like the end of a madenned mating frenzy, the sounds that follow, the voices, nothing like the ones that came before. A sudden scream in the quiet night is silenced quickly, the odd echoes not letting you pin down the source.

Randel starts walking a bit funny with Cyrus on his rear, but makes the most of the pleasure. For all he knows it may be the last. He shakes that morbid thought out of his head and glances around again. Hearing the 'copter, and the comm blinking in his eyes, he exclaims, "What? Now what? Who the... guh..." and grumbles to a stop. He looks at Core and messages on his comm, "I'm not walking in there like this, if that's what you are wondering. There's enough personnel here, not everyone needs to go in... I'm staying like this. I want to be ready for this feral eater or whatever Seguro reported." His bad demeanor is interrupted, thanks to the masochistic bovine of all things, making him squirm at the hips a bit, and close an eye, groaning. {{You really that determined to suck off a load?}} he tells hir, and just hir, via nanite telepathy, more amazed than anything else. For all Cyrus knows, shi maybe close to a reward!

"Hey great!" Randel says over the comm, happy to hear what Anbessa reported, "Got a really bad feeling about this, and could use the heavy fire support. I can kind of do heavy combat, but I'm more a doctor and researcher. ... Mind you, I'm pissed what we might be facing." He looks over at his newly acquired mutant followers, and says {{Head up to those guys. Help out}}

Randel glares at the ferals, and forward facing teammates and messages with intensity in his eyes, {{Find that! Find that damn sound! We have to be getting close!}} He paces around the building, wondering how well it would take for him to go in or climb. He wants in, not to fall off or have it fall onto people.

Thelergramor stretches slightly, and while it occurs to him that making alot of noise to get through the door would be a bad idea; there's plenty of noise coming from the tower already. He decides to let others handle that and slings his rifle over his back. The fox then grabs his auto hammer, a bullpup coilgun that fires nails at high velocity, and instead of screwing around and chipping the ice with his claws... Proceeds to shoot at the ice.

Thelergramor furrows their brow in concentration, then, frustrated, lets out a quick "Fuck It" and unlimbers their gun, firing high velocity nails into the solid mass of ice, the oddly shaped slippery surface redirecting many of them to land on their sides and then /BOUNCE!/ Rocochets *Spang!* off nearby metal surfaces, a hundred a minute at least flying off in all directions, and those that stick simply jut out of the ice as if waiting for a hammer. Benjamin is hit, taking a nail to the nose and piercing it, going directly back into the nasal cavity like some kind of carnival trick, only the edge sticking out as sudden pain blooms behind their eyes, while Seguro throws up their wing and while the sensitive skin takes the nails, no serious damage occurs. Thel is surrounding by a sudden flurry of ice-chips, covered in frost as the gun barks into the night.

Cyrus's ears rise up at the sound of the moan and turns her head slightly, the significance of the sound not lost on her. It draws her attention away from Randel's shaft long enough her to consider for the briefest of moments to stop sucking on the cock and investigate. However the sound of Randel's voice in her mind draws her back and her sex clenches with needy desire. She pulls her muzzle from his length, whimpering at the open wound in her mouth that slowly stitches itself back together. She turns around, tendrils sprouting from underneath fur on her tauric half's back to stretch open her mound welcomingly for Randel, but catches him pass her up. She sighs and follows him, her eyes still planted firmly on his cocks as the tentacles become resigned to sliding in and out of her aching cunt. Though aimless and lost in the fog of lust as she follows Randel, the name Anbessa rings in her mind, feeling somehow significant and making her need flare hotter.

Core rummages around at the base of the tower. "Oh well, what do you -" she withdraws some rope and climbing hooks. "Looks like this is how they get up and down," she murmurs, and starts working her way up using the equipment, fortunately not needing to directly use the treacherous and slippery ladder. She nearly falls when she hears Thel's gun go off, though, sticking her head out and furrowing her brow. She quickly climbs the rest of the way. "Hope they didn't hear that. Sounds like they're doing something ghastly up here."

Seguro growls loudly at Thelergramor, the low velocity nails bouncing off hir wing smaller scales. As the dragon lowers hir wing a look of shock comes a crossed the dragon's face, as shi watches the small cat boy, take a nail strait to the nose. Seguro rushes over to Benjamin's side to administer medical treatment with a pair of medical pliers and a liquid bandage.

"FUCHSHITDAMN!!!" He growls as the nail lodges itself into his nose, blood bursting from the opening as the girly catboi falls backwards. He grabs at his face, mewling in pain as he spews pained shouts of profanity.

Anbessa cannot help but let out a shiver as the snow bellows against him, the man only happy that his rather bulky suit and equipment are still keeping his warmth in. Won't stay that way, but it should last him for a bit. But as he hears all the noises from the distance, the man cannot help but feel his eyebrows furrow. Reaching around, his hand rests upon one of the multiple things hanging off of him before bringing it around, the thick Beta C-mag making a satisfying, yet subdued click as he slides it in under his rifle before bringing it to bear. With a flick of his thumb, the scope atop of his rifle hums to life as the green fills the view of his scope. The gift that keeps on giving, Night vision scopes! With a furrowed eyebrow, he tries to look towards where the group is... Sadly, the tower is a bit too tall for him to look into from the window, though the sounds from within make him furrow his eyebrows. "Are you all alright?" His voice rings out across the COM device. "A bit too noisy in the-... Hold on." His voice trails off as something catches his eye in his peripherals, him moving his aim over towards the Factory... "... Got movement inside the Factory over there. Third floor... Though I can't see what it is." With a soft grunt, he soon enough shakes his head. "Can't do much from this position though. Going to get moving." With that last voice message, he swings around his AUG back to it's strap, letting it rest against his back before he turns. Time to start moving down to the street to meet up with the others.

"FUCHSHITDAMN!!!" He growls as the nail lodges itself into his nose, blood bursting from the opening as the girly catboi falls backwards. He grabs at his face, mewling in pain as he spews pained shouts of profanity. "Gods damnit what the fuck happened?!" He says as his eyes begin to fill with tears as his eyes land on Thelergramor, gun in hand. "You shot me?! Why did you shoot me?!" The injured cat tries to stand up, growling at Thel angrily as blood runs down his lips. Seguro was the only one keeping the cat from launging himself at the man."

Randel paces around, looking for a solid spot to climb up. The black scaled dragon stands up, and puts his claws on the side of the building, getting a feel for the material he has to work with, before there are sounds of metal pinging and flying all over the place. He staggers backwards; covering his face with is forearms and waits for the noise to stop. "God fucking damn it." he growls deeply, but quietly, what kind of operation are we running here? He snaps his head over towards where he thinks Anbessa is at and growls loudly, "What?! 3rd floor?!" He looks at the group and quickly says, including the feral followers, {{Ok, fuck this.}} and points a circle over the ground, {{I'm bringing this bastard down HERE. Get ready to either attack here, or head upstairs where I am at.}} He stares right at the ferals and adds while pointing, {{Follow them, do what they do.}} With that he leaps up into the air, wings beating, and him diving towards the third story factory floor... odds are like a freight train from hell.

The tower is solid under Cores' toes and fingers as they climb up, the sliding rungs along the side blocked by ice here and there and need to have the sliding ring jimmied on occasion to make it possible to move. It's a slow ascent, and unusual, but core is able to make it and soon is seen just at a point below the door to the tower, the noises coming from inside are louder now.

The shadows that play on the ceiling and windows of the tower dance more and more, but Anbessa's cry of warning is heeded by all, Randel shouting out his readiness to flush out the enemy is heard by everyone, as you can see him quickly putting things in order for flight and attack! The noise from the tower is mirrored by something inside, not clearly heard, but seeming to be similar in sounds...if only you could see WHAT awaits!