Thread: The Lady and the Wolf - Penitency x Praxis

Are you fucking crazy!? She'd squawked at him as she watched the police cruiser all but disintegrate from the concentrated fire of his own weapons. No! No, no, no, no, no. She babbled in quick succession, the word buffeting itself in her panic. That's stupid . Who would...-and why?! Ethan, no! Do not bring that mess with you! Her comm had gone silent again. She'd considered arguing with him about how little sense that theory made but instead decided to sit upright in her own space and attempt to clear her head. She heard his voice calling to her distantly, ignoring it and exhaling in a deep breath. This was a bad dream. That's all. A twisted hit from the syrette that was still coursing it's way through her bloodstream. That busboy at the Gloria Hotel had burned her. It was simple, really. A bad hit had her hallucinating and all of this was some fever dream that'd she'd, eventually, wake from. It would be a good nine hours until her body and mind were free from the drug cocktail's cling completely. She took deep, purposeful breaths and disconnected from Ethan's feed. The reality of his voice proving too sharp a notion to exist in her delicate state. A scraping noise, louder than anything she could ignore, began at the far end of the darkness. Toward the front entrance to her loft. She peered wide eyed through the dimness, pupils dilating to deep pools of black against icy blue. She'd just been able to make out the vaguest of shapes from where she sat cross-legged. She had scooted herself on wrist and bottom from between the coffee table -now streaked with her own blood, to the stonework of a large fireplace. With her back against this she rose, slowly, waiting for the scraping noises to cease before she'd inch again. Scraping gave way to pounding and without giving the situation much more thought she dropped back to hand and knees and scarpered on the icy wood floors, still clutching her wounded left hand against her robe. The plush material was beginning to soak through and she felt a tackiness against her bare stomach where she'd been pressing. Oh, fuck it! She heard grumble from a Man's voice opposite the sealed door. Step back. I'll handle it. Another replied. There were three more loud, banging noises and a crackling of light and sound -like a blowtorch, that emitted from around the seal of the door. She heard a sharp, raspy breathing that she realized was her own before she found the clarity to move again. She'd been frozen. Watching and listening to whomever was on the other end giving little care to if they were noticed. Her initial instinct had been to scream, though she had been able to suppress that. Hiding seemed like her best -if not only, option. Her stomach knotted, her mind chastising itself for having severed the link between Ethan and herself. Whoever was attempting to get in would likely succeed and she doubted she'd have the time to navigate her menus again to force herself into his mind. There was a blue flash, followed by a popping sound that confirmed this. She'd have guessed they'd given up trying to coax the magnetic lock and had resorted to brute strength instead. The men's voices -as many as four perhaps, congratulated each other but soon began to argue again. Rachel inhaled, held and sank deeper into the inky recesses of an adjacent landing. If she was quick enough, she could have slipped through the patio entrance.