zazel felt his mouth form the faint smirk that it rarely did for anyone other than Carmen; shaking his head lightly. "That's because you have a hospital and I have the Legion." He responded, his voice low and calm. As she went to look through the cabinet, he pulled the black bandana from his face, letting it drop to his chest and hang around his neck. His facial tattoos would get him identified regardless of the face covering, but it was a nice thought. He rifled through the desk drawer's contents, finding nothing of interest.

“I don’t know what this is but it doesn’t make much sense.”

Azazel turned to her at the sound of her voice, looking over the papers she held out for him see. If the papers made no sense to her, they definitely wouldn't to him. Because Azazel had grown up the way he had, he had never put much effort into school - he wasn't stupid, by any stretch. But he certainly wasn't well educated. Math and science were things he'd always struggled with. So the papers just looked like someone had slapped their hands on the keyboard to him. He watched in quiet amusement as she threw the papers in the air. "Well, hopefully they weren't important." Another trait he only expressed with Carmen was his sense of humor - it felt false with anyone else. Even with Carmen, his humor was dry and matter of fact. He was working on it, at least.

He knew they wouldn't be able to get into the computers - neither of them were hackers. So he turned from her back to the desk, and then he took the crowbar like a bat and swung it full force at the monitor, which went flying before crashing to the ground. Azazel moved over to the door to the office and opened it, checking the hall once more before turning his gaze to Carmen and nodding his chin in the direction of the hall. "Let's go find the bigger offices. If we're going to find something in paper form it'll probably be in one of those."

Azazel didn't wait for her to go first - because in situations like this, the person in front was often the one in the most danger. So he stepped out into the hall and started down it, heading for the main section of the building. He had a feeling the important peoples' offices would be upstairs, behind locked doors. He'd never been in City Hall before, but if he were one of the big wigs, that's where he'd want his office.

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he main faction of the riot that had come to this building had moved on from this wing, which is why he'd brought them here. However, the destruction it had caused was certainly still evident - broken glass, doors to offices smashed in or missing entirely. The city government wasn't going to be too happy. He listened as Carmen followed him, glancing over his shoulder at her as she spouted off some questions at him. 

“What exactly are we planning to do if we find something useful? Blackmailing some higher-up government officials? Threatening them? Are we doing it for the money?”

Azazel shrugged his shoulders, focusing back on where he was going. "Depends on what we find, and who's willing to pay the most to keep it out of public view. Shit's getting bad, and it's probably going to keep getting worse." He said casually, glancing into an office as they passed - the window had been smashed out, and a cool breeze brushed along his skin. "We need more money, more resources." Most of the gang members didn't bother questioning Azazel, as he often didn't feel the need to explain himself to anyone. However, Carmen was different. They'd been in this together before the Legion had ever been a thought. She wasn't just another member - she was his closest confidant. He was certain he'd be dead by now without her. 

But what he was saying was true - the Legion was only going to be as strong as they made it. With the riots, harsher rules were going to start being put into affect. Azazel was already hemorrhaging money with Lux's business being slowly drained. He wasn't even sure how much longer he'd be able to keep the club open, and was only lucky that it didn't look like much from the outside. If Lux had to close, the only money they were going to be making was what they could do under the table. Even though Azazel had partners who often funneled money into the gang in order to garner their favor (and by extension, their services), he didn't like to rely on outsiders for the gang's livelihood. He had to take care of his own - he owed the gang more than half-assed attempts. So here he was, doing the grunt work, trying to find information he could use to get money or whatever he or his family needed, should things get worse. And from the looks of it, they definitely weren't getting better. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't catch it - the sound of whispers and then the sound of a shoe crunching on glass. He focused on the hall before them, which ended in a sharp right turn. He stopped, feeling Carmen's pat to make him aware of the issue at hand. To either side of them were closed office doors, and when Azazel tested the knobs, they were locked. Turning a serious gaze to Carmen as she spoke, he signaled for her to be quiet. Whoever was coming was either very bad news or not a problem, and he wasn't going to risk her life on a chance. He just wasn't that lucky of a person. Any minute now they'd turn the corner and spot the two gang members, and that would be that. 

Moving over to a door that did not have a name on the ID plate, but the words 'SUPPLY CLOSET' stamped across it, he turned the knob carefully. The door opened right away, revealing a cramped, dark space with shelves and various office and cleaning supplies. He motioned for Carmen to step inside, glancing past the door of the closet to check their visitors. He still didn't see them, but the voices drifting from further down the hall definitely didn't sound like rioters to him. Scowling, he felt frustration build up inside of him as he stepped into the closet after Carmen, closing the door slowly so that there wasn't even a soft click as it closed. Standing close to the door, with his head tilted to the side so he could hear, Azazel hoped he was at least large enough for his body to shield Carmen from view, should anyone try to open the door. He held his crowbar in a tight grip, entire body humming with tension as he waited. 

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verything was quiet as they stood together in the tiny space. He could feel her breath on his neck even though he could barely make out the shapes around them with the door closed. He was buzzing with adrenaline, his heartbeat pounding out a marching rhythm in his ears as he tried to focus and listen to the sounds outside of their tiny hiding spot. As the silence built pressure in the air, he thought about what she'd said just before they noticed the approaching danger. About the medical supplies. The idea of her getting caught made his chest hurt in a way that he didn't like at all. Not just because he knew losing her would hurt the gang and the clinic, but because she was personally important to him. One of the few people who he didn't have to pretend around. She was his closest friend. Though, knowing himself, he'd probably just figure out a way to break her out of jail. Society didn't intimidate him - he was used to breaking laws. 

Even still, he felt himself already making the decision that they needed to find a new way to get supplies for the clinic. "I'll see if I can get some contacts so we can get the supplies without putting you at risk anymore." He murmured, voice gravelly and low, and final. He knew that Carmen was more than capable of taking care of herself - she had lived on the streets just like he had - but he couldn't help the instinct to keep her out of harm's way in any possible way he could. 

He heard footsteps outside of the door, walking past, and he tensed up, readying his hold on his crowbar. If he had to, he was ready to use himself as a battering ram in order to clear a path for Carmen to run, though he wasn't certain she wouldn't refuse to run and leave him. In fact, he was pretty convinced she would just stay and they'd both be in trouble. 

“You couldn’t have chosen a bigger room, could you?”

He opened his mouth to respond, already feeling his lips curving up at the edges. Typical of Carmen to lighten the mood with a joke. Azazel had once been uncomfortable with her playful attitude, but as they grew closer, he'd begun to see it as endearing. Even now, in the thick of this tense stand off, she was making him smile. It was a weakness, truly. The words were on the tip of his tongue when she slammed into his back, knocking him forward and into the door. His crowbar clattered against it as he tried to steady himself, grunting in surprise. His adrenaline roared in his ears as he reached back to try and help Carmen steady herself, using his larger stature to back her up so he had some space between him and the door. Lifting his crowbar into a more ready stance, he kept his lips closed tightly, listening intently. It felt like time froze, but he didn't hear the footsteps returning. He remained silent, barely even breathing, for a few more minutes before he let himself relax. "I don't think they heard that." He finally whispered, stepping forward to slowly turn the door handle and push it open a crack. 

Looking out through the small space, he didn't see anyone in the stretch of hallway that he was able to see. He pushed the door open enough to lean out, glancing down either hall. Nobody. Pushing open the door further, he turned back to Carmen, a lopsided smile forming on his face. "That was-"

A loud pop preceded something punching into his side, causing him to stumble into the door, which slammed against the adjacent wall with a resonating clatter. Bracing himself, he looked down to see a dark stain quickly forming on his shirt, just below his ribs. Head turning to see who the hell had shot him, he saw a soldier standing down at the end of the hall, aiming a gun at him. Ready to shoot again.

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an you run?“

”Yes.” He responded breathily, one hand pressed into the entry wound on his torso. Azazel let Carmen take his arm, eyes widened as he watched the fog billow into the hallway, blocking them from view. He was definitely impressed - though he’d always known that you didn’t mess with someone like Carmen. She was dangerous in a way that Azazel just wasn’t - he was physically intimidating, and violent. But she was so intelligent that she didn’t need to resort to violence as often. Somehow, the universe had brought him a partner who fit into his jagged edges perfectly. Or maybe this was all the adrenaline rushing through his system, or the bug fog he was inhaling. Still.

He allowed himself a few moments of weakness as the pain quickly came rushing in, leaning into Carmen as they sped down the hallway. He couldn’t let himself get weak enough to lose balance - because if Carmen couldn’t carry him out, she’d end up staying by his side. She’d get hurt. Azazel didn’t mind getting shot at, but for those idiots to shoot at Carmen? His grip on his crowbar hadn’t loosened for a second, and now he clenched the solid metal bar in his fist, rage pouring into his veins.

Carmen wouldn’t leave him for the same reason that he would never leave her - they were in this together. Sure, there was the Legion, and as it’s leader Azazel knew that he had to put them as a priority if he wanted to be followed out of loyalty. But he and Carmen were something in addition to loyal. No matter what happened with the virus or the gang, Azazel knew he could always rely on Carmen.

Azazel’s face broke out with a broad grin in response to her next words, his gaze sharp and angry. ”We need time.” He responded, his words as sharp as his gaze. Each breath brought a sharp pain, which brought clarity to his mind. Let him think better. It was like stepping out of a shelter into a crisp winter night - breathing in the icy cold air, feeling it slice at your insides. He knew the pain was both a good and bad thing, but for now it was to his advantage.

Stepping back from Carmen, Azazel supported his own weight while gesturing towards the doors stretching out in front of them. ”Find one that isn’t locked. Find us a way out. Yell for me when you do.” He told her, knowing that the soldiers were going to have some kind of protection against gas, and knew for a fact that they had better weapons. The fog was a minor inconvenience, but his gunshot wound was going to slow them down. While Carmen found them a way out so they could escape, Azazel needed to head back and keep their would-be attackers at bay. If Carmen got shot, he’d lose his mind.

If he were a different person, he might have reached out and reassured her with physical touch. He might have hugged her tightly and told her that they’d be alright. Instead he just gave her a determined look, his eyes conveying a promise that he couldn’t express any other way. ”I’ll be back.” It was the best he could do, and he didn’t hesitate before turning on his heel and propelling himself back into the fog, quickly disappearing from view.

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ell will break loose if you don’t.”

Carmen’s words echoed through his mind as he plunged into the bug fog. He tried to breathe as little as possible, striding ahead confidently despite his inability to really see anything. He moved along the wall, his fingertips brushing it softly as he moved, gaze focused towards the center of the hall. His gaze caught a faint shadow in the fog, and he lunged forward, swinging his crowbar down over his head. It clashed with the arms before him, causing the soldier to drop his gun. Azazel didn’t hesitate to bring the crowbar across his body, smashing it into the eye-shield the man was wearing. He beat him without mercy, not giving the man a chance to fight back. Azazel didn’t stop until the man stopped moving, not caring whether or not he was dead. Azazel left the gun - he couldn’t see well enough to shoot with any type of accuracy, and had just broken the only gear he could use to help his eyesight. But he did take the respirator the man wore, as he’d been careful not to hit him there.

Able to finally take a full chest of breath, Azazel tried to ignore the stab of pain in his lungs as he did so. His side was on fire, a tingling sensation spanning across his skin interrupted by sharp pains every few seconds.

His only goal here was to give Carmen enough time to search for an exit, without having to deal with the soldiers or anyone else bothering her. Azazel gripped his crowbar tightly, peering into the fog as it stung his eyes. He needed to keep moving forward, stopping any soldier that came his way. So, despite the burn in his gaze, he returned to the wall, moving slower now and peering hard through the fog, trying to catch any hint of movement.

This time, the soldier surprised him - stepping out of the fog right in front of him, gun looking directly into his soul. Azazel only paused for a breath, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of an adversary. Bringing his crowbar up, he smacked the gun out of his face, lashing out and punching the soldier in the throat. The man stumbled back, a choked cry escaping his lips. Aazel brought the sharp end of the crowbar down into the man’s thighs, causing screams to erupt from his opponent’s lips. They’d act as intimidation and a distraction for the other members of the team.

Hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him off the soldier and throwing him to the ground. Grunting, Azazel fell on his injured side, causing a flood of agony to slice through him. He didn’t scream, kicking his leg into the shins of the soldier who’d grabbed him. When the man fell to the ground, Azazel pulled his leg up and then shot it back out - kicking the soldier directly in the face. He did it once, twice, three times before the soldier was out. Pushing himself to his feet, Azazel was heading deeper into the fog when he thought he heard Carmen shouting his name. As he turned towards the sound, he heard the pop of gunfire and felt something whizz past his face before burying itself in the wall next to him. Ducking down with a hiss of pain, Azazel tore off in the direction of Carmen’s voice, hearing footsteps just behind him.

Blindly, he reached out until his hand slapped something - and as soon as he felt he could move the object, he tossed it behind him into the path of the soldier. There was an explosion of sound as the two collided, but Azazel didn’t slow down until the fog began to clear. It wasn’t entirely gone when he nearly fell over a body on the ground. For a minute his heart froze as he thought it might have been Carmen, but when he focused he caught sight of her just a few feet away. Relief flooded his veins, and he quickly forgot about whoever it was on the ground. Clearly someone who had underestimated her.

He caught his name on her lips, and felt a smile spread over his face beneath the respirator. Pulling it off, he tossed it to the ground. ”You must be really mad to be calling me Ambrose.” He commented as he closed the distance between them. ”I heard you calling. Let’s go.” Azazel nodded for her to lead the way, crowbar still gripped tightly in his hand, his free one pressing into the wound on his side. His shirt was soaked with blood - and he could already feel the swirling sensation in his head. They needed to go.

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ou bet! I’m so mad I can’t even explain it in words to you. Out of all the stupid things you’ve done this is certainly on top of the list.”

Alright, so maybe his go-to take charge attitude wasn’t the best pick when she was under stress. Azazel knew better, he was used to Carmen being the one person brave enough to put him in his place, but all he could do in the face of her anger was offer a small smile. Just the tiniest up-turns to the corner of his mouth, but it was still a testament to how much he cared for her. Anyone else chastising him like a child might have gotten violence as a reward, but he’d always balked when it came to challenging or pushing Carmen’s temper. He let her get the frustration out, and then he nodded slowly. ”I’m glad you’re alive, too.”

Azazel nodded again as she informed him that she’d found a way out. As he moved towards her, he let her wrap an arm around him, putting his free one with the crowbar over her shoulders. He leaned on her just enough to ease his own struggle, still trying to support the majority of his weight. He didn’t doubt that she’d drag him out of here if she had to, but he didn’t want to put any more trouble on her plate if he could avoid it.

“How are you feeling? Are you dizzy? Lightheaded?”

His gaze flicked from the hallway stretching out before them over to her, taking in a deep, painful breath. ”A bit.” He told her, wondering how far away this exit was. ”We can worry about it later.” Talking at this point was a bit of an ordeal, his words coming out from between gritted teeth. A few moments later, she was taking them into an office and pointing him towards a window. Jump? Great. It wasn’t like he’d never done it before, they’d both had to do some pretty dangerous stunts throughout their time on the streets. But jumping from this height always had an element of chance to it that was unavoidable - would you get lucky, land just right, and come out unscathed? Being as wounded as he was, his chances were considerably lower. This was going to be a fun one, for sure. He gave a nod, taking his weight on himself and releasing her.

He wanted to insist on her going first, but if he couldn’t manage it, and she was on the ground, she’d either be forced to leave him alone, which he knew she wouldn’t do, or get caught. Azazel didn’t bother suggesting she go first because he knew it was only going to prolong their time in this building, and raise their chances of capture. No, he needed to just do what she told him to do - choosing to not argue would save them precious time. ”See you down there.” He told her, moving to the window and getting his first leg out rather easily. The second leg required him to curl in on himself, which made a strained groan of pain rumble out of his throat, his world swaying dangerously. He was going to pass out, but not until they were safe.

Pushing past the waves of pain rolling up his body, radiating from the gunshot wound, Azazel carefully dipped his head out the window, sitting on the sill and staring down at the ground. It seemed to move further and further away as he looked, making him feel ill. ”Fuck.” He complained under his breath, before pushing away from the sill and letting himself fall rather than full-on jumping. As his feet hit the ground, he bent his legs, rolling his body into a tight ball to transfer the force of the landing rather than snapping his ankles - which was never a fun time. However, he couldn’t bite back the yell of pain as his side hit the ground, his body tensing in agony but still pushing himself out of the way to clear the area for Carmen. Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, Azazel tried to breathe, feeling his head swim. Deep, measured breaths helped ease the dizziness, but were also increasingly painful.

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