Shatterverse Panfandom RP

There's an interesting little group making their way toward the Cooper farm. It consists of three smallish dragons and what looks like an enormous ball of light.

No one's said much on the way back. For Rachel, it's out of frustration. They took it down and that's a victory, but they didn't get the father, the guy that started the whole thing, and that's making her tack it down as a failure.

But she'll mention that when they land.

Rachel dreams - spoilers for the end of the Animorphs series

Her pace is steady, if only because anything that isn't steady calls her attention and gives her something to be angry at, and even Rachel finds it difficult to get mad at her own feet. Plodding along with her little bag slung over one shoulder, chewing numbly on some of the bread from yesterday's dinner, hardly looking around her. It's just another road in another state probably with another town that needs a thug tossed out of it or something. Doesn't need her, just needs anybody.

What's the point?



Grumbling to herself, a very tired, very cranky blonde continues on.

Jo and Dean are off doing something - the meeting with Oracle is over, so Rachel couldn't care less. Besides, she already pulled Jo aside and swore to cover her in cockroaches if she leaves the farm and leaves Rachel behind.

There's no way Rachel would ever collect a bucket of cockroaches, even to throw on Jo, but intimidation works well.

Even if her arm is going to bruise from that punch later on.

She'll worry about that later. Right now, she's got hours of waiting to do that can translate into training time. About five miles out from the Cooper farm, she'd morphed Hork-Bajir and done what they do best - cut into a tree. A thick branch, one that could be cut up into five or six thick, short pieces, set up a hundred yards away or so.




The gunshots won't be too audible from the farmhouse, but they're sure as hell audible to Rachel. She manages not to wince with each pull - humans are deaf and she's ignored gun blasts before as a dog, she can certainly do it like this.

Her gun is a six-shooter. Every time she empties, she walks over to inspect the stumps she'd set up, frowns and curses a couple of times, then wanders back to her point to re-load and try again.

She spent most of the day wandering around Lawrence, wanting to see it from all angles. Know your territory better than anyone else, never be surprised. And she knows Lawrence now, from the air and from the floor, through sight and scent and sound.

Not as well as she should, not yet, but she will.

It's late afternoon when she starts making her way down the road to the two occupied houses. She'll pass the gun-family first (Winchester?) but Rachel has no intention of introducing herself. Partly because she has no idea if Jo's said anything yet.

Partly because she just doesn't want to.

But there is a tall, beautiful blonde walking casually down the road with her hands in her pocket and a full shoulder holster under her jacket.