He noticed us shortly after we noticed him. Siberian flickered into existence on top of the vehicle, standing, her legs shifting to adjust her balance as it hit a crack in the pavement and rocked slightly to one side.
Signs point to yes.
Though we’ll have to see how well they drive under these conditions.
I heard Amy shriek as she saw Siberian.
Amy, internally: “TATTLETAAAAALE”
Tattletale veered left, hard, and Grue turned us right. We each cut into side streets, running parallel with the truck. Bentley was lagging slightly behind, but I caught a glimpse of the other group as we made our way past a major intersection.
So they’re pretty in sync for what they’re doing.
Two blocks away, slightly behind us.
I heard an explosion, and Amy clutched me tighter in reaction.
Woah, what just happened?
Did someone fuck up Siberian’s truck? But I think Taylor would sense that through the bugs first.
Glancing down, I could see her arms around my ribcage, the hand with the maimed fingers held slightly off and away so it wouldn’t get bumped or jostled.
Trickster was handling the opening salvo. The objects he was swapping for grenades weren’t even close in size -signs and traffic cones- so the timing was horribly off.
Ohh, right.
Also, I’m sure a lot of the Taylor/Amy shippers like this scene.
Siberian didn’t move from her perch.
What’s wrong, Siberian? Not able to control both the Monochrome and the car at the same time, only pulling out the Monochrome in order to intimidate?
Grue steered Sirius into a sharp left, and the dog’s claws skidded for a grip on the flooded street before we turned. We got one block and then turned right, putting us directly behind them.
So what’s the plan from here?
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