Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
26th of March, 2019.
Despite knowing that Diego was better with a blade than they'd ever be, Vanilla slipped into their sleeve the kitchen knife they had used earlier for slicing garlic, and sped up the stairs. Hopefully the rice would still be warm by the time they would get to eat it.
Skidding into the entrance hall, Vanille was greeted by two people in navy suits laying on the floor muttering, both having unusual animal-shaped headwear. Despite their usual control over their powers, Vanille felt their blood run cold at the sight. The people from Gimbel Brothers. There were familiar voices arguing in the living room. Vanille scrunched up their face, removing both the sight and hearing of the assassins, and charged into the room.
"Oh, yeah, ever heard of rope-a-dope?!" Diego was shouting.
Vanilla slammed their right heel against the floor, "Guys!"
The three looked at them in alarm.
Luther blinked at them, "Vanille, you shouldn't-"
They huffed, "Well, I am, and right now neither of those two can hear or see, so what's-"
Vanille was rudely interrupted by a bullet whistling to their left and Diego giving them a stern look. They yelped, body stumbling in the direction of the other three. The assassins were on their feet and advancing rapidly into the room, firing off in all directions. It appeared they did not need sight nor hearing to attempt murder.
"Get out of here- now! Go!" Luther shouted, waving the group away, being the last to follow their clumsy sprinting to avoid the disorganised spray of gunfire.
Vanille, figuring it would be perhaps in fact safer, decided to grant the assassins their senses back. Well, that, and the fact that conserving energy was quite important if this fight was going to continue much longer. They were already desperately trying to suck the air into their lungs, the panic swirling through their body doing its best to constrict the ability to breathe.
Perhaps this would near-immediately bite them in the ass, so to speak, given that a few moments later they would find themself running behind Allison, avoiding the bullets of one of the assassins. As Vanille finished descending the staircase to the lower kitchen, feet stumbling against the wooden flooring, their eyebrows knotted and suddenly the assassin on their trail lost all ability to feel their limbs.
Another decision tonight that was, perhaps, not their smartest, given that near-immediately after this, the assassin would fall down the stairs as a result, knocking the wind from Vanille's lungs and landing directly on top of them. Vanille grimaced and writhed, trying to claw themself out from underneath. They instead opted for twisting, and luckily avoided an unexpected strike to the skull from the butt of the rifle the assassin was still managing to wield despite the lack of feeling in her hands. Less lucky was being almost convinced they heard their shoulder make a cracking sound as it took the brunt of the damage instead. Now that they were on their stomach, Vanille rapidly pulled their legs up to their chest and kicked, combining the little momentum they gained with the force of the kicks to free themself of the assassin and scrambling to their feet.
