Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190809183250/@comment-5543592-20190831125717

Paul's forehead smashed into Shrike's nose, bouncing her head back like it was on a spring. The pressure lessened on his arms somewhat.

The headbutt left a visible dent in her face, which Shrike didn't seem to be all too pleased about, because she then jerked down sharply on his wrists and he felt his arms do something that crossed somewhere between holy-fuck-that-hurts and why-can't-I-feel-my-fingers.

"On the Vertibird, not here." Tanner said, waving them away. "There's no time."

They arrived in the hanger, the elevator doors dinging open, where the staff of Warehouse Zulu had gathered. They were in various states of dressed and undressed, and all were wearing tired, confused looks.

"What's going on?" Campbell, the heavyset chef, demanded.

"Shrike's attackin' the Warehouse, place is burned, we're leavin'." Josey announced, pushing past them without care.