[She smells it, before the young girl with that odd neck accessory reaches her: the burnt and sulphuric scent of gunpowder. The pin's actual purpose clicks, the instant before it is pulled from where it was lodged.
Concrete turns to grounded dust. Flesh peels away to charred ash. Light engulfs the building, before being replaced by a most crumbling and destructive darkness. The peaceful but lively meander of the city at this hour rapidly devolves into a cacophony of chaos, filled with cries of fear and pain and panic. ...So much for minimizing collateral damage.
In the distance, there is the blaring of sirens. The block is in sheer disorder, filling up with more idle onlookers than concerned helpers. ...Really, it's no good. Combat in crowded areas is, truly...
...
There is no verbal answer. Makima should no doubt still feel it, however, a sharp and watchful presence trailing her coming from behind her. Somewhere among the buildings of the block she just left, closer to the site of disaster where for all intents and purposes, it looks as if a meteor had just struck.
A suffocating and acrid breeze blows by, more aftermath of the wreckage two inhuman creatures have wrought. When the air settles, the presence is gone; it's retreated further backwards, into the crumbling and burning debris of the obliterated building.
...
The Devil of Control has eyes and ears everywhere, right? Then perhaps it won't be long at all, before she picks up intel from her various sources about a nun with short dark hair clad in charred robes helping civilians back where the explosion had occurred. Calming and directing the lightly wounded away from the scene on the surface, but unearthing buried victims and quickly treating even serious wounds in ways no ordinary human hands can accomplish, and no ordinary human eyes can track.
It would appear that the hound sent after her today possesses more than one function. Makima wants to call it a night? That's one way to close the day out. Does she have any complaints?]
no subject
Concrete turns to grounded dust. Flesh peels away to charred ash. Light engulfs the building, before being replaced by a most crumbling and destructive darkness. The peaceful but lively meander of the city at this hour rapidly devolves into a cacophony of chaos, filled with cries of fear and pain and panic. ...So much for minimizing collateral damage.
In the distance, there is the blaring of sirens. The block is in sheer disorder, filling up with more idle onlookers than concerned helpers. ...Really, it's no good. Combat in crowded areas is, truly...
...
There is no verbal answer. Makima should no doubt still feel it, however, a sharp and watchful presence trailing her coming from behind her. Somewhere among the buildings of the block she just left, closer to the site of disaster where for all intents and purposes, it looks as if a meteor had just struck.
A suffocating and acrid breeze blows by, more aftermath of the wreckage two inhuman creatures have wrought. When the air settles, the presence is gone; it's retreated further backwards, into the crumbling and burning debris of the obliterated building.
...
The Devil of Control has eyes and ears everywhere, right? Then perhaps it won't be long at all, before she picks up intel from her various sources about a nun with short dark hair clad in charred robes helping civilians back where the explosion had occurred. Calming and directing the lightly wounded away from the scene on the surface, but unearthing buried victims and quickly treating even serious wounds in ways no ordinary human hands can accomplish, and no ordinary human eyes can track.
It would appear that the hound sent after her today possesses more than one function. Makima wants to call it a night? That's one way to close the day out. Does she have any complaints?]