Gₒₒd ₒₗd₋Fₐₛₕᵢₒₙₑd ₗₒᵥₑᵣ Bₒy ~ Dᵢᵣₖ Gₑₙₜₗy

In The Bleak Midwinter (But It's September)

Blackwing
18th March
2001

"Svlad, what the hell is happening?" Sicillian's eyes whipped from side to side, trying to take in the sight of the British teen standing panting for breath in the doorway of her cell. She had quite a few questions, but they were all minor compared to the one she'd just asked.

A drone of sirens provided the conversation's backdrop, screaming and screeching to no end. The flashing lights yelled in hues of pure white and crimson. It was an overload on the senses, causing the brunette much distraction as he strained to hear what the American was saying.

"There's no time, we need to go. Come on!" He was already halfway out the doorframe when Svlad noticed the green eyed girl wasn't following, a look of utter confusion plastered on her face. The blue eyes male sighed overly, darting forward and grabbing her wrist, dragging her along.

"What's going on?!" She yelled above the cacophony, turning the corner.

"I don't bloody know, I heard these alarms and the next thing I know, Clara's at my door telling me to run." It was a shitty explanation coming from Project Icarus, but in reality, he didn't have anymore of an idea about the situation than Sicillian.

"Where is Clarabelle?" She asked, finally breaking Svlad's grip on her sleeve and continuing to sprint herself.

"Excellent question-" A loud bang sounded out. "Oh shit." The wannabe detective immediately changed direction, sweeping Project Cain the same way with his arm. The intersection they'd been about to turn through exploded with shouts and gunfire.

"THEY HAVE FUCKING GUNS?!" The brunette girl screamed. She ducked just in time to escape a stray bullet striking one of the alarm lights, bursting into sparks. Her question, though not rhetorical, didn't really need an answer as evidence was provided to prove her true even before she'd voiced it.

"Where are we going?" Svlad asked, picking a corridor at random and running down it.

"You're asking me? Isn't this your whole thing?" She was proved right again when they were met in the other hall by Bart Curlish and Mona Wilder, who seemed to have a better inclination as to what was going on.

"Svlad, Sicillian! This way!" The shapeshifter directed, waving them forwards. If not for her shortness of breath, Project Cain would have asked another question. Usefully enough, Icarus asked for her.

"Do you know what's happening?"

"There's been some kind of breach, Riggins is sending guards everywhere to try and keep things under control." The black haired girl replied, moving alongside them. The alarm finally shut off, making it seem almost deadly silent despite the crys and yells heard intertwined with the unmistakable sound of bullets.

"How the hell did a breach happen? And what are we doing running around in the middle of one?" Sicillian had caught her breath again, opening the flood gates of questioning.

"We don't know." Bart's voice was, as ever, resolutely grating. "But it seems everyone else is using it as an opportunity to get out of here. Thought I'd take a leaf out of their books."

"Wait wait, let me get this straight. We're escaping right now?" Svlad, despite knowing the most important thing to do was go and grab Sicillian, had not gotten the memo about what was actually happening. Collecting Project Cain was instinct, and to be honest, he'd employ it in any situation.

"No, we're gonna go on a nice leisurely stroll. Maybe we'll see a cafe on the way and have afternoon tea with the Queen, you British fuck." The sound of Aleksandra Molchat's Polish accent cut through the air, the older girl peeling off from a side hall joining the group of four.