#mekkra

Works from the loooong stream today, thank you again to everyone who came by and kept me company as I complained about my cat and hand! In order.

Sparks belongs to @demasura

Fierra belongs to @fierraa

Fritz belongs to @kitkat22229

Annnnd Mekkra belongs to @naxxiblogfuntime

The alarm light was flashing on and off in Infinity Coil Lab Alpha-C, accompanied by a hollow blaring with each flicker of the light. The room was lit by the dull blue glow from their equipment and the overhead lights, and with each flash they were bathed in a sickly red light. Mekkra glanced around. The tension in the air was so thick that it felt as though a flutter of her sword could snap it. No one was precisely certain what exactly was going on. They knew Pact forces were storming the Coil, and that, at least for now, Lab Alpha-C’s krewe was to stay put and stand by to protect their research. Dokk, the krewe chief, stood with his regular decorum. It was his job to demonstrate that in this sort of situation, and Mekkra knew that, as his Chief Assistant and second in command of the krewe, it was just as much her job to keep morale high and solidarity intact. With that in mind, she made sure she was standing up straight, her posture immaculate as Dokk’s. The lower researchers and assistants would look up to her, see their supervisor calm and collected, and with a little luck, the feeling would rub off on them. During drills this normally worked fluidly, but this was different. Everyone knew this was not just an exercise in preparedness. There was a real danger, more dangerous than an escaped experiment or terrorist attack. How could they be expected to remain calm when they knew that, just beyond the door to the lab, people they had worked with, shared meals with, even loved, were quite possibly being put to the sword? Something caught Mekkra’s ear. A soft whimpering she had to strain to hear. She slowly made her way to the sound’s origin point, to Prenna. “Researcher?” She said. Prenna leaned up to look at her superior. Her cheeks were visibly streaked with tears even in the dim light, and her face was flushed pink. Mekkra knew fear when she saw it. Not the fear of being injured or the fear of failure, but death. “Is something wrong?” Mekkra continued, trying her best to sound reassuring and warm. Prenna’s response was weakly spoken, barely distinguishable from her whimpering. “N-nothing, Chief Assistant, sir. Sorry. ” Mekkra placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. “You are going to be fine, Prenna. This attack will be repelled and we will continue our work as usual.” She offered a smile, but it was hard to tell if it helped. Prenna ran a hand along her belly, already looking swollen even beneath her chestguard. Trett, the researcher seated beside Prenna, took her hands in his. Mekkra had known about their relationship for some time now. She dismissed it as harmless, as it had not affected their work negatively. It would be difficult for them to keep it under wraps now, with Prenna’s belly growing more and more with each passing week. Mekkra gave them both pats on the back and turned to walk briskly back to where she was standing before.

It was then that the door burst open. Mekkra had barely turned around when she saw one of the researchers take an arrow through the neck. As she reached down for her weapons, Pratzz, the krewe doctor, flung a wave of necrotic energy at one of the Vigil soldiers in the threshold, hitting a Sylvari with a bow square in the face before a pistol round took the doctor in the chest. Dokk rushed at the group, sword in his hands. A human fell forward as he swept with the long energy-charged blade, only for another Vigil soldier to force her dagger through the krewe leader’s left eye. He dropped his sword and slumped down, lifelessly. Mekkra’s weapons were in her hands now, just in time to parry another soldier’s sword. An Asura was attacking her, not a Charr, or a Human, but one of her own people. Over the other’s shoulder, she watched a sword take Trett in the chest, and a woman screamed. Things seemed blurry for her then. She shifted from a defensive to an offensive position against her opponent. The sound of machinery breaking, the moans of the dying, the ring of steel on steel. That was all she could hear.

Meerkat

Risk, doubt, dull

Naxxi