Lyra's method for quelling the final bastard that came charging at him was typical, for her at least, in the eyes of the wolf as he watched the poor man blunder through smoke. The moment he thought he might've been alright after stepping out, it only took a mere whim of her power to crush him entirely, for the man found himself petrified in place the moment he thought to resume his assault. When the blade fell from his hands to floor and his expression fixed into something akin of the undead, the wolf knew he was now left at the mercy of the woman who's body was that of smoke. Ironic how far the two had come together, wolf and sorceress who had both met within the wilds of the Second Deep. Yet in all his days he would've never expected her to come to his rescue, to save him from what would've potentially been a very dire situation.
Yet the way she could laugh and enjoy herself as she crippled her foes, part of Rickter felt unsettled by her presence again even after the fact. Thus as his form finished shrinking back down into his normal height, as a human, the fur coating his body receded quickly as steam still radiated from his skin. His arms were beaten to shit, the right forearm specifically gashed along the center, as the dagger he'd removed still lingered in his left hand for the moment. When he heard the voice of another call into the room, his eyes lifted from the blood on his arms toward the source. So another had come in to help him escape, not that there was much urgency left in the idea now that the threat had been handled. Still... Rickter wanted nothing more than to be out of this place, having the look of utter exhaustion in his eyes as the marks of his runes still faintly glowed a silver hue.
He had no idea who this person was and yet, she smelt like Lyra only by a little, so that meant she was an accomplice to the Lady. One the wolf slowly nodded to when she asked him if he was the wolf, the one that "Mr. Prince" had come looking for just earlier. His blue eyes lowered from Naila to the floor, her feet essentially, as he thought to take a step forward on his own first. His right leg still felt numb around the backside of his thigh, and he could feel the warmth of blood trickling down it as well. Gods he had fought so hard, and yet, he was still unable to pull himself out of that situation alone. He was weak. He felt weak even with the power he had, but most of that power felt stripped of him now, for Rickter couldn't even rely on his shields to keep him safe from danger. Somehow all that churning anger within him didn't subside, instead a convolution of bitterness and resentment stirred inside and was shared with faltering confidence. He couldn't believe that he'd so helpless in this situation, so incompetent as to fail to gain control of things before they spiraled into this mess.
And what would await him on the outside? What would he exit to find when he crossed through that threshold? He knew to expect Talon and Aoren there even if he couldn't quite feel their presence anymore, that was a given, but what else would come for him before the night's end? Zaichaer? Only one way to find out. That first step felt heaviest and hardest but no pain stemmed from the pressure in his muscles, just a strained attempt to remain standing as his right leg buckled a bit at the knee. The woman Naila seemed about ready to offer help but he brought up a hand, gesturing for her to remain back as he breathed both deeply and heavily. He was going to walk out of this fucking place, without any further need to rely on others if he could. He'd already failed to resolve this alone after all, how else could he hope to face Talon if not with some semblance of strength left in him.
The left leg was far better off but even that felt partially like jelly, yet no pain plagued his limbs and for that, he could only wonder... was he truly numb at this moment? Was this the extent of his ordeals, or did others like Arcas and Lyra suppress those sensations as well? He'd felt nothing in regards to actual pain once Eminence bolstered him with power, just the jarring discomfort of his wounds up until now. "...I can walk..." He was far quieter than he probably ever was before, his blue eyes remained to the floor where he could see outlines. The bodies and broken piles of wood left in his carnage, this whole place had become a mess of a battleground in the blink of an eye. And the blood spilled here was all on him... All this, every bit of it, was his fault because he went out for a simple meal.
The pair in the room shared a moment of conversation, the wolf's eyes only flicking slightly toward the general direction of the actual smoke he could smell. There was the fire in the building, a final obstacle that held no significance in the end. Perhaps because Rickter knew, deep down, the fire would never touch him in the end. He would be out before it even reached him thankfully, though the smell of burning wood still reminded him of the possibility. When they reached the sliding door Rickter's eyes lifted, his left hand finally dropping the dagger when he realized, Naila was the one who intended on opening the door then. The blade fell beside his left foot with a couple of small patters, before the pressure of Naila's kick sent the smoke around them back with a puff of air. The door cracked as the kick caused the icy structure to budge, with a load groan of the hinges as they shattered from the force of impact. Yet there was a momentary lapse where everything slowed entirely, and the door and any broken pieces of it were gently dropped to the floor.
From within the smoke there looked to be light beyond, and figures that Rickter could see waiting for him beyond. Finally... Though his eyes started to well he didn't look away from them, because they were the very thing he needed to get to at that exact moment. As he limped his way toward the door he gave Naila a brief look, his somber gaze filled with a deep sense of appreciation for what she had done. For what her and Lyra had both done, for if Talon had entered here tonight... things could've gone very differently. As the black smoke bulged out from the confines of the room he exited, Rickter limped his way out with his weight mostly kept on the left leg. It wasn't long before he exited from the plumage to see Talon and Aoren right there, waiting for him, as the silver glow of his runes died down to faint glimmers of their original hues. There it was. Even within the numbness he felt it all just rise up, boiling into a cascade that brimmed over the extent of his control. The wolf's eyes immediately began to stream rivers next, as the sound of machinery and smell of industrial fumes in the air indicated what he'd feared. Zaichaeri forces were arriving as of now, and that could only spell trouble for Talon in the moments to come. Why though? Why him? Why them?
Rickter couldn't help but feel every ounce of his strength faltering then, right as Talon approached, and there the wolf caved into the Synnekar just before he was lifted. The cloak that was brought around his shoulders would be soaked with his blood in no time at all, a fact Rickter would've stressed over had he the energy to do so, for he didn't want to ruin anything more than what he already had; as of tonight. Yet still, to be lifted into the safety of his Bondmates arms, to physically feel his warmth and presence... The wolf couldn't help but choke a bit, with a few hard gulps as he brought his right arm over his chest, his left arm grasping at the remains of his shirt as he tried to shred it off of him. He didn't want to use Talon's cloak, not for his arm or his leg, not when a tattered shirt was replaceable. He was replaceable though, he should've been... Talon would've costed this entire trip just to save him... and Rickter didn't know if he was worth that much trouble or not.
"“Sōrumeito. I am here. You are safe.”" Those were the words that reached his ears as he closed his eyes, the wolf almost eager to bury his face into Talon's neck as close as he was. He knew the meaning of that word he had been called, he understood that deep down there was a significance to it.
"Soulmate..." Rickter repeated in his thoughts as he still gulped hard, doing his best to keep himself contained as the tears just flowed continuously. His entire body had begun to hurt now that he was able to relax, the kind of pain that that reminded him that he was still alive, but also the kind that reminded him just how close to death he really was. Sharp pins and needles coursed through his right arm and leg, around the areas where his injuries were thickest as he could only haphazardly wrap the strip of cotton he tore around his forearm. But that was all he could do, he had little more energy beyond that, and a mind wracked with a storm of thoughts as he was carried away from the warehouse. He felt the kiss of his Bondmate's lips on his forehead, and then finally, the wolf started to shiver within Talon's embrace as he was brought over to a place of safety.
But safety wasn't really something he felt there, even if his Bondmates guaranteed that, there was still the fact they were in a place they didn't belong. There was nobody there that would treat them any better, no one who would show as much concern for their prince, compared to the loved ones back home who awaited their return. What if that never happened because of tonight? What if... What if... His heart started to ache as he thought more of this, the only saving grace being the voices of his two beloved companions. When he opened his eyes once more Rickter still shivered, a deep sense of somber and regret found in them as he looked into Talon's apprehensively. What did he need? He wasn't sure...
"Wow," Callen remarked as he seemed to approach from nowhere, "that was... really something." The private investigator remarked as Rickter rolled his eyes, as unlike Talon and Aoren, he wasn't able to see the spectral form that stood observing the three of them together. "Well, kid, you made it. Just like I said you would." Standing before Talon and Aoren was someone who looked exactly like the wolf in his arms, a man dressed in a beige overcoat with a white silk shirt and a tie, his expression the same broody manner as Rickter's, as his hands dipped into the pockets of his coat in observation.
Another hard gulp came from Rickter as he could only wonder what the hell was going on now, the fact he could still hear that voice in his head meant something was wrong. Something had to be. He had lost it in there somehow, but at the same time he wasn't quite aware that his Bondmates was possibly seeing a ghost of some kind. Instead, he listened to the footsteps heard around the area, his ears trying to focus on something, anything, to distract him from the possibility of him going crazy in the head. Dornkirk was addressing those who arrived and while Rickter could not make out the conversations, he knew from the tone he could register that things were not looking good. He closed his eyes hard with a bit of a heavy exhale, before they gradually opened somberly to the prince above him once more. "...I'm... sorry..." He muttered lowly as he acknowledged the fact this was all because of him.
All of this, was because of Rickter.
"Common" "Synskrit"
"Rickter" "Callen"
