Distracted at first while trying to keep track of stragglers into the camp, Nova flinched when she realized it was the nun, Chiara, talking to her. Her bright-room training sessions with Blowtorch had been painful enough to leave an impression, and while she had no particular reason to think Chiara would deliberately hurt her, the mere idea of being vulnerable -- potentially lethally -- to another trainee left her decidedly ill at ease. "Hercula," she repeated, frowning, and scanned the group. "There. The muscular girl, with the darker skin and the accent." As if her own Carolina drawl, such a contrast with her goth-punk pixie look, didn't count.<br/><br/>But she was less enthused about the plan Chiara was proposing. "Clustering together in an open space is retarded. For one thing,<i>way</i>too many emotions crowded in a small area. For another, we'll be easier to surround. For a third, if there's fighting, there's a greater risk we'll hit one another by accident." In countless tactical training sessions Blowtorch had cautioned her about that aspect of her own abilities: if she was careless, and sometimes even if she wasn't, her dark energy could be frighteningly dangerous to allies and innocents. "What we ought to do is break into smaller groups and spread out a bit. Not so far we can't react if there's trouble, but enough that we're not all on top of each other."<br/><br/>She gave Full Metal a rueful look, and thrust her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. "I am a shit cook, kid. Seriously. I could manage to burn water. Sure, I'll watch your back while you work, but don't let the twang fool you. Paula Deen I ain't."<br/><br/>While still standing near to Chiaro she watched him begin to unpack the provisions. But when that first unearthly screech echoed through the clearing she was<i>immediately</i>in flight: darting over to the treeline where the shadows were already longest, and then lengthening them further. In that patch of deepening gloom her silouhette grew indistinct, and by the time the second and third screeches answered the first only the coruscating blue-black aura limning her ink-black sclerae suggested her actual position. "I suggest," she offered, her voice quiet and grim, "that everybody get their shit together in a hurry. Those motherfuckers could be on their way here, now."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>