Fantasy The Dying World Beneath (IC)

[PanOtterPus]

Aeryn blinked as she heard the thud. Without much time to think about it, she grabbed Durendal's hilt (hoping to gods that was all she was grabbing) and stood ready to face the oncoming crowd of attackers. "Oh great, send them all our way why, don't you?" She groaned as she watched the throng of P.O.W members that decided to challenge them. Well, bring it. As if on cue, one of them flew at the pair, pulling out a rather intimidating dagger. Aeryn would normally grab her own in response, but she now had Durendal and she may as well use her.

Raising the sword, there was a clang as the blades met and Aeryn grinned a dark, bloodthirsty grin and looked the man in the eye. "Think you're quick do ya? Well, you ain't Elf fast." And with that she pushed against him, pulling herself back before flashing forward and lunging at him, catching his waist as he dodged. She lunged a second time, brute strength and speed her only assets, to be blocked swiftly by his dagger. Grumbling she thrust a third time, this time slicing deep into his upper arm, causing him to drop his weapon. "Screw it, I didn't sign on for this!" The man fled, only to be replaced by another. Well, this was going to be fun for the girlies.

Verdas

 

[Pinconious]

Richard looked around the room a little confused as he saw many of the P.O.W fall to the ground asleep while others quickly weakened. Seeing Yseri he smiled to himself.

"Druid magic, that explains it" He thought

Those that still lingered were easy enough for Rick to take down due to their now weakens state.

"Thanks for the fight" He smiled as he pulled one to their feet feeling their body weight as he did so, "But I am hungry now" With a loud hiss he sunk his fangs into the neck of the Mage he had plucked from the floor.

The mage screamed and tried to use what little energy he had left to pry Rick off of him but to no avail. The consequences of drinking from an unwilling victim were dire but he figured that there would be an exception in this instance. The wound on his arm slowly healed the more he drank and his vision came back into focus. Once he had drained the mage he allowed the body to fall with a loud thud to the floor. Blood trinkled down his chin but with a wipe of his sleeve it was gone.

"Just what the doctor ordered" He said aloud to himself, "So who is next?" He asked those who decided they were going to be stupid enough to surround him, "I don't know why you are bothering when clearly you're all a little exhausted" He said as if it was just a casual conversation with a good friend.

The people looked at one another as if seeking the permission of the other, their looks of regret and confusion clearly visible on their faces.

"Well, i'm waiting?" Rick crossed his arms and tapped his foot in impatience. "Fine, if you won't come to me I will come to you" Just as he primed himself to fight those that surrounded him decided it wasn't worth the effort and ran none of them wanting to end up like their now dead mage friend.

"Suit yourself" He shrugged only to be grabbed from behind, one arm held tightly behind his back while his tried to use his other hand to pry the new guys arm from around his neck.

"Vampires shouldn't be fighting for the living" The man hissed.

"I'm only here for the fun, don't care who wins or loses so long as I'm not bored" Rick choked out.

"I'll cure your boredom quickly by making sure you die like the filth you are."

"I would like to see you try" With a grin Rick lifted his right foot and with a heavy blow landed a swift kick into the guys groin sending him tumbling to the ground in agony.
Rick moved away from what he could now see was another vampire as he straightened out his clothes.

"Low blow man...low blow" The Vampire said in a high pitched voice.

"No one said this had to be a fair fight" Rick shrugged as he bit into his own wrist to draw more of his blood reforming the syth he dropped when the vampire caught him, "Don't mess with this 'filth' as you called me" raising the bladed end he quickly ended the vampires life by cleaning separating his head from his body.

 

[Halexia]

Xander stopped suddenly, finding himself cold and wet "ice magic" he thought, he hadn't banked on that, but it was effective putting an end to the kitsunes main defence as he found his precious fire now failed him "looks like we have to do this the old fashioned way" with a new mischievous glint in his eye Xander started fighting with his fox claws, striking down the ones who had hit him with ice, this was an unfair fight there were more of them than they were of him but he was gonna go out fighting and he intended to fully take out as many as he could before he did, there was fur and fists flying (most of the fur being his own) and his usually bright white fur was covered in blood, but the young fox was not going to give up anytime soon.
---------------------------------------------------------------

Tyra backed up in a corner so she could see all the opponents she was facing, she began to count them all in her head "1, 2, 3....." she needed to do something and fast as a wolf she wasn't getting any where the many opponents she was facing were evenly matched in talents with her wolf form, it was then Tyra made a crucial decision to transform back into her natural vampire form, it was quicker and more deadly, and had the added bonus of her hypnotic gaze, she only hoped it would work, Now back in her vampiric state Tyra began using her fangs as a weapon ripping into the throats of her opponents, Tyra was not a fighter but she had been backed against the wall... Quite literally and she wasn't going to allow herself to be taken down by anyone

 

[Verdas]

Walking through the alleys, Carol's butterfingers were literally twitching for action. She wanted to stab, slash, stab, and then stab some more. Being a natural thruster, she was very adept with knives, or really any blade in general, no matter the size. The bloodstains were a welcome break from the dull grey of the alley's walls. With a sharp, double edged knife held out before her in one hand, she began to walk more quietly, soon becoming almost undetectable. Being a professional stalker had it's perks, not that she'd ever admit that she'd stalked anyone.

A smile formed on the psycho/stalker's lips after the werewolves made their appearance, with bared teeth and a storm of claws. But the only part of the wolves that caught her attention was their crazed eyes, so hungry for their blood. Their fur and hide was low quality, and she didn't consider it worth the effort to make her new coat with them. These rabid beasts were no doubt the small fry, and she fully expected the real werewolf to have soft and luxurious fur.

Howeer, she was rudely snapped back to reality when the one closest to her took a swipe at her. She had no delusions about what would happen if it hit her directly, and made extra care to avoid it's attacks. Even if it was just a grazing wound or a small scratch, the wound could become infected. One never really knew with supernaturals. When the werewolf rush in to attack with another powerful swipe of it's claws, she redirected the blow with her free hand, using the momentum it had generated to embed her knife deeply into it's shoulder, then took out yet another sharp thing from her belt. With one of it's arms (mostly) out of commission, her was now easier- or so she thought.

Screaming from the pain, it went into a wild rage, lunging at her with an open maw, aiming for her vulnerable neck. She jumped back just in time, barely avoiding her death in the form of a wolf that was far too rough (( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)). Much to her chagrin, the werewolf was very persistent, and was driving her back with it's sheer ferocity. But an opening soon revealed itself when it slipped on a small puddle of fresh blood, and she lunged for the kill, driving a knife through it's neck, and giving a whole new meaning to the term 'deep-throat.'

Now, it's death was certain, as it would bleed out at any moment. She took several steps back, out of it's range, but in a twist of fate, she herself slipped on a puddle of blood, falling on her back, letting out a short, high pitched yell of surprise. Had she been less fond of the marksman, she would surely have cursed Gabriel's name, but all she had to say in this situation was, "Aw, fuck me," though that was what she said to just about everybody, so it wasn't a special occasion. The werewolf had also managed to reach her right before it's death. In other words, it fell on top of her, eliciting a muffled 'oomph!' sound from underneath. Being too weak to lift or push it off herself, she had no choice but to wait for help.

DergTheDergon PanOtterPus Rustic

 

[Verdas]

After biting off a huge chunk of a masked elf's windpipe, leaving the gasping and gurgling supernatural literally breathless, the blood soaked plant noticed that all around her, the P.OW. members were either knocked out cold, stumbling, or sluggish. Yseri's spell was surprisingly effective, and she quickly finished off the other members wrapped in her vines. "I-I did it. I k-knocked out the t-tough trousers." At this point, they no longer bothered to get to the faun. They had no reason to, not to mention there were quite a few casualties.

It was a grisly sight, and the bloody corpses and mangled corpses of P.O.W. members littered the floor around her. Technically speaking, she didn't exactly have to kill them, but any thoughts about leaving them alive had never crossed her mind. While she was kind to Yseri, the same couldn't be said of those that either deliberately attacked or presented a serious threat to her and/or her friends. Speaking of the faun, she only now realised that she had fallen unconscious after casting the spell, and rushed over to her, almost slipping on the blood as she did so.

In an attempt to bring Yseri back to consciousness so that she many torture her with more lewd questions[/], she tried resuscitation, CPR (never mind the pair of coconuts), and shaking, but to no avail. Wiping off the sap dripping down her face, she decided to stay by the faun's side and protect her until she came to. She had lost many friends in her lifetime, including one suspicious but friendly plant by the name of canadabitch or cannabrush (she couldn't remember the exact name), who had been plucked out and burned alive by a supernatural with red eyes. She would not lose another.

---

It felt good to be wielded by a capable fighter again. No, perhaps 'good' was an understatement, as tqhe bloodthirsty sword audibly moaned with each swing, thrust, and parry. While Aeryn complained about the amount of opponents, she was delighted to see that so many kind souls were willing to put up their life to entertain her. When Durendal's blade finally drew blood, the warm glow which emanated from her seemed to glow a tad brighter, if only for just a moment.

It was a huge disappointment when the masked man ran away. It had been far too long since she'd been used to take a life. She absorbed every last drop, nonetheless, remaining spotless and sparkly clean. "Mm, ahh, more. Thy blade and servant wishes for more, master." She said to Aeryn, practically begging her to cut up more of the P.O.W. members, or anyone, really. She didn't discriminate when it came to blood.

DergTheDergon PanOtterPus

 

[DergTheDergon]

When Gabe winked at her, she thought her heart was going to melt for as moment before the grim realities she began to notice snapped her out of it for the time being. Looking over at Chase whilst she was scanning the hunters’ near-silent, shadowy, bloodstained surroundings, she couldn’t help but notice that his normal enthusiasm simply was not present at the moment- a sight which saddened her slightly. It was clear that he grasped the grim reality of this situation, even when she caught a glimpse of his initial reaction to the approaching werewolf. Normally, he was manic and exuberant in every fight, but he seemed to understand that these mangy half-human mutts had been defenseless beggars, before they were turned into vicious monsters for use as nothing more than canon fodder. Fifer felt her stomach wretch at the thought. Caroline seemed completely fine with this situation though… a mark of true insanity mayhaps, but a boon for the team nonetheless to have an even more... focused, one could say, member than even Chase. Fifer couldn’t deny that. In fact, Caroline and Chase seemed to tag-team well together and their styles were similar.

Taking a deep breath and shifting her focus onto the ravenous beasts that demanded her attention through hostility, Fifer stepped back as the beast came closer and closer to the four of them, her vision mostly trained on the one nearing herself. Through focused aim, she was able to cripple both its front paws, slowing it down immensely. She then took this time to train her sights on the one Gabe was dealing with. Unfortunately, it neared him far too quickly for her to safely loose fire upon the bastard. She found herself dangerously halting for a moment, staring at Gabe with wide eyes and muttering “Shit, shit, shit,” as she saw the wolf close in on him. Then, however, she looked a bit closer and realized what was happening: Gabe had the biting, clawing menace atop him by the leg, defending himself quite well as he then moved on to disabling the other beast’s limbs.

The moment Fifer gained the attention she needed on her own attacker, it was nearly too late. The beast was inches from her, reaching over with its maw and managing to get a good nip on her side, tearing her jacket and shirt open slightly and gashing her torso up rather badly in the process. In a panic, she instinctively put her Smg’s barrel to its too-close-for comfort forehead and let the trigger rip, effectively mulching its brain. She took a deep breath to center her shaking hand, then immediately looked over Gabe, a clear look of immense relieve over her face. Since the other wolf was down for the count and could possibly be questioned later, Fifer then decided it was safe and turned about, rushing to the aid of the nearby blade-wielding duo while reloading her weapon with mechanical movement.

Glancing over the two, she immediately noticed two things. One, both of the wolves seemed to be dead, which she smiled at. Two, Caroline’s wolf seemed to have fallen on top of her. Fifer’s intimidate thought was to rush over to Chase, but, he was clearly fine. The injured always came first; preservation of the human race was a main goal of this organization. Besides, she figured gabe might think less of her if she chose the grudge she was sure Gabe was aware she had on Caroline over her life. So, she meandered over to the wolf corpse. And began to try lifting it, only to realize it was a bit too heavy for her, embarassingly. “Hey gabe, you good to lend a hand? Don’t push yourself, you’ve got some nasty… ahhh… scrapes on ya.” Just as she said that, she remembered the adrenaline-numbed gash In her side and clutched it tightly. “Shit… Might have to hang back a bit unless one of you can patch me up good enough… I’m bleeding.”

Still, she willed herself to hoist the beast the rest of the way off her guildmate, before she turned to Chase. “You injured, Chase?” Fifer asked, still wanting to make sure everyone else was okay before she so much as thought about what to do next. She found herself sitting down. “I need to rest for a-”

Suddenly, something leapt out from nearby shadows straight for the group. Fifer’s eyes widened- she’d sensed nothing, but this was clearly a monster. In fact, it was clear to all four pairs of trained hunter eyes present that this was no ordinary werewolf. Its eyes were pitch black with blood red irises: the mark of Demons. It hunched over like a wolf, yet still towered over everyone but Gabe rather well, coming up to nearly Gabe’s full height as well. It wore an odd pendant about its neck that seemed to be radiating dark energy. Strangely though, everyone but Fifer could feel that energy, when usually, it was the other way around. It stared deeply into Fifer’s soul as she actually began to shake with fear; not at the sight of the beast himself, but out of confusion as to why she couldn’t feel his presence at all. “I… sensed nothing… what the hell...”

The wolf grinned toothily at her comment, showing off massive, deadly-sharp canine teeth, impeccebly alabaster and straight as arrows, aligning perfectly with one other. He then ran his tongue across them. From its thraot , deep voice boomed. “So you really are a bloodseer… I know my nose doesn’t lie. I should’ve handled you myself but it looks like my pets kindly saved you for me.” His grin then widened before becoming a hateful, canine grimace. “Die, humans!” The massive beast rushed forward. It was clear by the looks of him that this was the real deal- it’d take a lot more to kill him. Caroline was likely delighted by his impeccably well-kempt fur coat and unique eyes, however.

PanOtterPus Verdas Rustic

 

[Rustic]

Kicking and screaming were, perhaps, not the most dignified things actions in the world, but poise seemed pointless past the point Naomi had been pinned down onto a table. Not long after being thrown down by the giant wolf came the resounding 'thud' of her face crashing against wood. Her eyes began to furiously blink and twitch somewhat as a wave of sudden, sharp pain immediately began to emanate from her jaw. God, it had been so long since she'd last gotten injured. She took loud, shallow breaths, just trying her not to overreact. When the immediate shock of it passed, though, she dug her nails into the table. Her eyes were open, and she could see the faces of the mages around her. Some of them masked, some of them slightly visible under their masks, but all of them utterly detestable. She wasn't about to let herself go to them. She struggled and strained as hard as she could, gasping a scream between her breath, just hoping someone could come to help if she could not do this for herself.

Rollin, on the other hand, felt just fine. Holding down young ladies was not on their list of preferred activities, but sometimes, they knew, you had to do things for a job. On that note came the ardent cry of an impassioned young woman, barely audible above the noise of the room. It hadn't really occurred to them to even look up at it, considering they were so many other groups present that she could have just as well been addressing, and what were supposed to be aware mages at their side to deal with it otherwise, but apparently, consideration would have done them well. That's because, by the time their eye does a glimpse that's enough to make them look, the draconic woman is already upon them, the hilt of her weapon just inches from their face. Unsurprisingly, there isn't enough time to dodge it in any meaningful way, so they gritted their teeth before the impact and let it bat them backwards. It's stronger than they expect, but that's fine enough - the knockback gives them time to pick themselves up when they fall from the table, onto their knees, but quickly to their feet.

The impact is finally enough for the table to collapse, giving Naomi just enough leeway to fly free. And she did - the moment she felt the weight leave her back is the moment her wings lift up from her back and gave one giant, mighty push. Just in time too, as half the table crumpled to the floor as she had. Following that were more frantic, hurried flaps as she desperately tried to flee. To get as far away from all of this as she could. It was clear, after all, that she had done what she could, but having nearly been captured like she had, her best didn't seem to be sufficient here. That is, at least, her plan at first, until she actually examined the view below. She was taken aback by it, really - all around the room there's a sudden, quiet burst of magical energy all around, and a sudden collapse of people to the floor. Almost entirely the robed dissidents to boot. They looked to be unconscious, from what she could see, but some who fell only went to their knees, and regrettably, heavy looking hitters like the wolf her partner was combating didn't seem much effected at all. What could have caused it, she wondered? Though, she doesn't have much time for the thought, noticing a troubling threat emerging.

On the ground, things were going just as bad as they looked. As Rollin was coming to their feet, all at once, the people around them fell off their own. They had enough training to stave it off, when they felt the magic attempt to hit, but it was clear the less prepared and the less competent were having trouble. In the one of the worst case scenarios they could imagine, once the spell had finished, it seemed like most of their group was down for the count. Without hesitation, some who were still up began to head for the exit, some carrying fallen comrades, and others going entirely empty handed. About what they would expect. But all around, those who had stayed were in disarray, not sure what they should be doing, or how they should be handling their newly diminished capacity. Before the draconic woman in front of them could get off enough hit, they gave a cursory glance around the room for someone familar, but anyone specific was lost in a panicked and confused daze of a crowd. Oh yeah, this night had been fucked. Which left them with a choice, it seemed. They looked to their new opponent and shook their head.

"Grab someone and go," they barked. Staring at the dragoness, but clearly issuing their order to their associates. around, members still locked in combat or otherwise looking for it blinked and turned to acknowledge the command, but none of them moved.

"B-but," one of them stuttered. They knew good and well the objection this person was about to raise, and they weren't having it.

"Got a better idea?" they retorted, looking over to the dissenter for only a moment. "Get moving." It didn't matter that they weren't in authority to order anyone around; this was practical, obvious advice. It was a demand, sure, and they didn't like making that of people, but in this case, someone obviously had to. Otherwise they were all just going to continue like headless chickens until the authorities here picked them all off. It seemed a good chunk of them agreed, or at least just respected their seniority, as after a few moments of reluctance, more members started to retreat. Not all of them, but enough to assuage their worries. Which only left one other problem - the dragoness.

It didn't seem like she was one to back down after issuing challenges - she had, after all, the obvious physique and demeanor of a fighter - but even if she would've tried to, it didn't wouldn't matter much to the wolf now. They had already issued the order to their comrades to leave, and if they were going to follow it, someone needed to do the hard work of securing the exit. If they didn't distract this girl now, she'd surely attempt to thwart that, and judging by her looks, most of the recruits here weren't remotely prepared to deal with that. So then, it fell on this wolf to humor her, for at least as long as escape would take.

"You want a fight?" they asked, at hint of amusement to their voice as they cocked their head slightly. It wasn't like the answer mattered. "You've got one." Without another word they rushed forward, ready to strike. They'd face her with what she had - if she was going to use an implement, they had their own weapon handy. Their own sword. If she wasn't, they were perfectly fine with tooth and nail. This fight might be utilitarian, but they didn't mean they weren't going to fight as cleanly as they always did. It sent a better message in their eyes anyway: P.O.W was more than capable of holding their own even on fair footing. Even if it didn't look like it right now.

Their attacks were both quick and sure. They had enough experience with fighting this close to do so confidently, and it showed in their attacks. They weren't overly aggressive in their fighting style, but when they aimed for a hit, it came down close. And savagely. They weren't about to pull any punches, and while they weren't trying to kill, they clearly did not mind maiming. At every opportunity they were ready to come down hard - whether with their teeth, their nails, or anything else they had at their disposal. If this dragoness wanted to win against them, they were determined to make sure she had to use everything she had.

Unfortunately, for as fair a fight they wanted to have, a mage around did not seem to share that sentiment. Two of the three mages had slumped to the floor during the magical burst, but one of them had managed to stay upright, a dutiful woman that wasn't about to turn tail now. She had used the whole of her will to stay awake because she believed in this cause strongly, and for the wolf who seemed so dedicated to it, she wanted to help in any way they could. Rollin may not have realized, but she was one of the ones who had stayed behind to help, and she wasn't about to turn away when they most needed assistance. As the fight started up, she took aim, determined to end this fight before it even began. However, before she could, a different winged supernatural woman swooped back down to Earth, knocking her over with a kick.

"I'm sorry," Naomi said politely, coming to delicately land on her feet over her new opponent. "If you want to dance, you'll have to settle for me as your partner." She still wasn't sure if further intervention in this fight was a good idea, but she wasn't about to let Xaira suffer the fate she nearly had. If her companion was going to take on that terrifying wolf, Naomi was determined to help her in any way she could. Even if it meant putting herself into harm's way again. The woman beneath her attempted to struggle to her feet, so before she could, Naomi knelt down to engage her. This mage wasn't going to get her way if she could help it.

DergTheDergon

 

[Rustic]

From his glance across the alley on top of his wolf, Chase saw the end of a variety of scenes occur. Fifer pureeing a wolf's brains, Gabriel pulling out a cool knife Chase never knew he had, and most impressively, Caroline putting on a macabre, one woman slapstick routine with her fresh kill. It would've been hard to know what to put his attention to had he caught them all a few seconds earlier, but in the time it took him to process everything, Fifer was already done and making her way over. His eyes widened a bit when he saw her, too. He hadn't been able to see it at first from where he was crouching, but apparently she had pretty badly scratched up from the fight. That wasn't good. He twisted the knife in his wolf definitively before he rose to his feet and looked her over considerately. At her attempt to help Caroline with her corpse problem, his immediately reaction was to step in to help when it seemed she was trying it on her own, but before he'd managed, she asked for Gabriel, and he stepped back accordingly. In retrospect, he probably knew better than to try and step in where he hadn't been asked to. It had worked out for him especially well. He scratched one of his wrists, though, unsure of what he should be doing, and not feeling like nothing was acceptable.

When Fifer turned to him, he blinked a little, a blank expression on his face. It almost felt like her question had been in complete gibberish. Was he fine...? He looked himself over a little just to be sure, and while the sleeves of his shirt and some of his shirt's stomach had been ripped up by his wolf's clawing at him for a taste, it didn't look like he was seriously hurt. Some long scratches here and there, sure, but it clearly didn't compare to what she was sporting now.

"Um... yeah!" he chirped, his face brightening a little. He was still obviously confused, but he answered just as blithely as he usually did anyway. To him it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, with her thinking to check in on him and all. He didn't want her to have any doubt. Though, afterward, he pressed his closed fist against his chin thoughtfully. After a moment, his smile returned, and his fist moved from his chin and his fingers spread themselves outwards, palms visible in an enthused looking gesture as she moved to take a rest.

"I could... maybe..." He had been, at first, sure he had an idea for how to deal with this situation, once he had started to try and vocalize it, it didn't seem sound quite as practical as he'd initially thought. He'd learned any sort of first aid only because he'd never foreseen needing it. Most people didn't like being near him, let alone letting themselves be touched by him, for whatever reason. He nodded as Fifer starting to announce instead she was going to take a rest, and before anything else, his open palm lowered into a dejected fist again. Dang it! Again, he wanted to do something, but what good were any of his skills in this situation? He grew a preoccupied look in his eyes again, and started to look away for inspiration just before he'd heard her abruptly stop.

When she did, however, he did not hesitate. He spun around on his feet to get a good look at whatever it was she'd been spooked by. Once he did, he caught sight of it too. Exactly the werewolf they'd been looking for: their goliath of a target, hulking over them now with burning red eyes. What a sight! On any other day Chase probably would've whistled at the beast. The sight, though, unfortunately, does not bring him as much joy as he'd would've hoped. He is still excited to finally see the monster responsible for all this carnage, granted, but it also comes with a another feeling he can't quite place. One that subtly bittered, and ruined, what otherwise would've been a sweet moment for him. Without thinking about it, he backed up a little; still in front of the group with Caroline, presumably, but he had moved to slightly cover Gabriel and Fifer. Oh. He realized as he did, a little late, that this probably was not a good time for this guy to get here.

He talked an insufferably big game, too, which was sort of distracting. The words are all kind of garbage. Bloodseer? It sounded kind of cool, but ultimately fake to him. Like, the two words apart were exciting, but he imagine what they'd even mean together. In fact, he was almost convinced the guy was just lying on top of everything else. It was kind of just in supernatural's nature, he'd heard. Not that it would be surprising either, considering everything else they knew he'd done. Before he could pass anymore judgement on the wolf, though, he revved it into high gear, giving off some uninteresting rallying cry before he kicked off the action.

Chase was not impressed. Before he moved out, he stuck out his tongue impertinently. "You first!" was his cute attempt at retort back as he actually started up. Interestingly though, his first move wasn't to move in to stab directly like it normally was. Instead, once he pushed forward, he pulled out his usual weapons of choice three at a time and threw them forward, slicing a clean path in the air to the wolf's muzzle. Mostly because he just didn't like this guy at all. He found that dumb sort of smile this guy had done kind of insufferable. He wanted to slash it all up, to carve out the teeth he'd been using so irresponsibly from his stupid head. In his own way, he probably wanted something akin to retribution. And he knew this was the only group of hunters that stood a chance in realizing it.

Something else he knew, without really wanting to admit it, were the less than favorable conditions this alley was impose on them all. Fifer liked shooting a lot, all over, and both Caroline and himself did not have an awful lot of room to maneuver to avoid that and the werewolf. Gabriel with accurate shooter, and would probably do fine, but if Caroline and himself couldn't keep the wolf's attention, Gabriel's opportunities to help would not come easily. But that at least made Chase's goal for their mission clear, at least in his eyes. Keep the big bad wolf from looking too hard at their sniper in chief. That in mind, when Chase got close enough, he aimed low, for left leg with one hand and the werewolf's side with another. He'd hoped he might manage to elegantly handstand past while sticking his implements in to reduce his hang time, but while he does manage the 'stab' part, the maneuvering he'd wanted failed to get him by quickly enough, and the brute's reaction came down hard. Strong, powerful arms batted him into the wall on Caroline's side, and though it felt to him much like his previous encounter with the Wendigo, he immediately knew that this throw had packed more of a punch. Specifically because he hit his head this time.

There was a loud 'ough' as all the air in his lungs evacuated at once as he hit the wall hard. Luckily or otherwise, his back hit first, so while his head pain ended up being as severe as it could've been, it still caused everything around to go black for a second. His eyes squinted and strained at first as he struggled to see, to bring the world back into focus, to force air back into his lungs. He slumped down onto the floor once he finished sliding down the wall, but he knew he couldn't stop. He immediately struggled to a standing position, wobbling like hell, but at managing to keep himself up. He couldn't see where to go, but he knew he couldn't stop moving; and he's proven right as he barely managed to stumble out of the way, just before another attack would've hit him. Whether that one had been meant for him, or if the werewolf had moved on to someone else, it didn't matter to him. They all still needed a distraction, and he had already set his mind to providing it, even if he was now not at his best reaction speed. Once he finally got a good look on his surroundings, and on Caroline, he pointed to himself over the roar of the bullets going past, and then to the wolf.

"Now!" he shouted, stumbling in for another strike. It would be up to her where she picked for them to go, but wherever it was, Chase was ready to hit somewhere else, too. He hoped that maybe they could work together to confuse the wolf with two, simultaneous stabs in different places, to confuse it to who it should retaliate against. Regardless, It was the best he could come up with. However Caroline decided to it, he at least hoped it didn't end with another hit to the wall. He didn't care what happened to him in a nebulous sense, but he had a good feeling another blow like the one he'd just taken might to do his brain what Fifer did to that wolf's from earlier. That sounded like it'd hurt.

DergTheDergon PanOtterPus Verdas

 

[Verdas]

The words suffocation, suffering, and (quite surprisingly) pleasure, were what Caroline would use to describe her current predicament. In fact, she half expected to die here when an unexpected saviour came to the rescue. Taking in a deep and much needed breath of fresh air, she quickly got up, not even bothering to dust herself off due to the copious amount of blood that now drenched her clothes. "For the record, I don't owe you, two-face." She said, before taking out another razor sharp knife out of her belt. As for the two still stuck in the dead werewolf, she would collect them after the big baddie in charge of it was eliminated.

That said, the main dish arrived shortly afterwards, sporting some of the most beautiful, alabaster teeth she'd ever seen on a supernatural. It's lustrous, well kempt fur would also make for a magnificent coat, while it's eyes were simply a must have for her rather large (and still growing) collection of them. There was nothing quite like waking up to the stares of countless eyeballs, all floating in various tubes and containers, of course. She felt so exposed, and she loved it.

It took a moment to realise that she was actually drooling, and the sound of chase getting his ass handed to him snapped her out of her morbid fantasies entirely. Wiping off the drool with the back of her hand, as her sleeves were unfortunately not spared from the werewolf's blood, she began to focus on the enemy at hand. She had the distinct feeling that were she to attempt to block any of its attacks, she would be sent flying into the wall like Chase, plus a limb bending the wrong way. The only option was to dodge and hope for the best.

There was no time to think things over in detail. It was either do it now or get killed, so she made her decision quickly, trusting the acrobat to follow up. Dashing over to the hulking beast, she narrowly dodged a swipe of its arms, ducking under the powerful arms and closing in for the strike. Once she was close enough, she thrust her knife into the brute, the blade digging deeply into its groin. A certain naïve plant girl would refer to this as 'wood carving,' though that woodn't make it any better for the victim here. She hoped that Chase would act quickly. Getting this close to a werewolf of this level was a ballsy and dangerous move, and she had no intention of hugging the walls.

DergTheDergon Rustic PanOtterPus

 

[PanOtterPus]

Gabe gave himself a quick look over at Fifer's mention of his "scrapes". He simply shrugged and moved to help her free Caroline from under the dead wolf. "Just surface wounds - I'll live." He brushed it off, knowing they had bigger things to worry about. Firstly, Fifer would need bandaging. He made no attempt to hide his concerned frown at her injury. "Looks nasty." Duh.

Before they had the chance to see to it, however, Gabriel could feel a particularly dark presence that hadn't been there before. Finally - the beast shows himself. If he were any other man, Gabe would've run screaming in the opposite direction, but given the fact that this was Gabriel, he simply pulled back out his hand guns, filled them slowly with silver bullets as the beast made notions of 'bloodthingies' and the like, and readied himself. This is what they came for and he was ready to kill or be killed.

The wolf pounced, practically a blur of brute strength and massive size. It made towards Chase first and Gabe could see that Chase and Caroline both understood their role here - keep it off the gunners. It was four on one this time 'round and they were probably the only team that would be able to handle this, as far as he was concerned. Gabe winced as he watched Chase fly into the wall - damn this alleyway. "Fuck this." He opened fire, aiming alternately for the head and heart - the two most proven areas for a kill. Clearly this creature had something more than just wolf about him, his hide was tough to penetrate even with silver.

The sharpshooter stole a glance at Fifer and immediately stopped in his tracks. She seemed... Frozen. What the shit? That wasn't like her at all. And they certainly couldn't afford such behaviour right now. "Fifer! Snap out of it and help me shoot this bastard!!" On any other occasion he would've allowed more time to act at least a little more concerned, but this was no time for being nice - this brute was no easy kill and they needed all the fire power they could get. For now they needed to fight, he'd have plenty of time to check on her later... He hoped.

DergTheDergon Rustic Verdas

 

[DergTheDergon]

Fifer was utterly in shock. Staring down a massive wolf, she failed to comprehend just how she missed such a power presence until the moment the wolfman who commanded it appeared. Her sixth sense for magical creatures seemed to be a sign of a calling for monster hunting, a job that she indeed fit quite well into. Her sense had never failed her… until now. She just now realized how much she’d been relying on this sense, how much she counted on it: it didn’t work only one time, the enemy was right in front of her, and she knew she should be up, alert and fighting but… the shock was too much for her in this moment. Even as her comrades rush forward, she sat there, eyes wide, the pain in her side even numb compared to the intense feeling of helplessness she felt right now, over something so simple. She’d never realized before just how much she depended upon that ability of hers… not to fight monsters, per se, she could do so without it; rather, she depended upon it to feel needed, to feel as though there was something only she could do. The loss of the sense of confidence that feeling gave her, coupled with the pain from the gash in her side, clearly induced a sort of delirium visible to those around her, although they likely were just as confused upon seeing at is Fifer herself was for her own reasons right now.

Thankfully, however, someone knew what she needed right now. That someone was Gabe.

"Fifer! Snap out of it and help me shoot this bastard!!"

His voice pierced the veil of confusion, shock and loss of a concrete sense of self that left Fifer in this moment, her eyes widening before she finally gained control of her mind. ‘What in the actual FUCK am I doing?’ She thought, the crassness and harsh nature of his words not bothering her one bit as she practically leaped up, taking a deep breath, clearing her mind and studying the situation. Gabe’s words felt like the battlecry of her inner self, spoken by another unbeknownst to him. Fifer wanted to kiss him for that, but thatt’d have to wait until they weren’t immediately in danger.

Moving back from the wolf, colser to Gabe yet off towards his side so as not to get in the sniper’s way, a cardinal rule of engagement, Fifer took another deep breath to steady her aim, studying the situation carefully and efficiently with her restored, training-refined powers of observation. One of the first things she noticed is that she felt a need to thank the hell out of Chase and Caroline as well after this was over, provided they were all still alive of course. She didn’t even care right now that Caroline was, well, Caroline right now; she was simply beyond grateful that the pair of blade-wielders had likely saved her from the wolf taking advantage of her previous sate the moment he realized she was in it. If that had happened, she’d be dead, no question.

Clearing these thoughts from her head with ore deep breaths, focusing intently, keenly on the task of observing and waiting for an opening with her smg pointed steadfastly, in the beast’s direction, she stayed utterly still, utterly focused and calm, a far cry from how she was just moments ago.

Meanwhile, the wolf growled as two puny humans with small pointy things approached him. He swiped at them broadly, but they were quite fast. One was so fast, in fact, that he managed to get a stab in, before he was reflexively batted against the wall and growled at by the beast. He showed no physical reaction, not so much as a flinch, to Chase’s attack, yet he was bleeding from it. It would be apparent to all the hunters right now that this beast could take one hell of a punishment, especially as a few of Gabe's shots hit and only garnered slight flinches from him, the silver not seeming to weaken him quickly as it would do any other wolf. It would take much more time for the silver bullets to affect him, due to his Demon blood.

The wolf growled as the male simply got up. “No no no, living after a hit like that is unacceptable.” He made to swipe at Chase again, but his action of blind pride would be his downfall. At the very least, he wouldn’t be likely to be siring any more pups. All of a sudden, a sharp pain hit him in a very sensitive area. Pretty much the only sensitive area on the beast, actually. He yowled in pain before focusing all his energy on clamping both claws down on the woman who’d stabbed his family jewels, intending to throw her against the wall much harder than the other, before rushing at those pesky gunners before they made a significant dent in him. If he did that, he surely would wipe the floor with these four, he was certain.

Meanwhile, the opening Fifer was looking for was here. In grabbing for Caroline, the wolf ended up exposing his chest to Fifer, and moreso to gabe as well. She’d heard that pure werewolves (werewolves born to a female, not turned) had three hearts. If they were able to, with subsequent shots, tear through his iron-strength hide and pierce all three hearts it’d be dead. Easier said than done, but it was all Fifer had.

“Gabe,” she said firmly, “aim only at his chest. It’s Skull’s like titanium. It’s got two more hearts: one below the first and the other to the right of it.” Fifer took aim at the heart on the right and started firing.

PanOtterPus Rustic Verdas

 

[PanOtterPus]

Aeryn felt a kind of shudder from the sword (weird) which she assumed was enjoyment given Durendal's... outburst. The elf moved right on by this and focused her attention on their new attacker. Another masked man. "What the hell is with all the freakin' masks." She grumbled. The man lunged, throwing his weight into his movement. It was sloppy, almost desperate, which wasn't a fact missed by Aeryn.

She could see he was just trying to distract her as a few more made their own moves. As such, she took a mental moment to breathe, trying to imagine where they'd be most likely to move and planning her own moves - she refused to die here. She simply dodged the first man with a swift spin, forcing him to fall into his own momentum subsequently causing him to fly face first into a buffet table. The closest second - a female - rushed from behind with her own sword, taking advantage of Aeryns exposed back. However, they had failed to notice the black raven swooping towards them, aiming claws first for their face. Corvus loved the feeling of flesh in his claws, and this particular female had very soft, supple flesh once he managed to mangle her mask. She cried in pain as he dug his claws in and pecked viciously. Aeryn smirked and moved on.

Up next was a small man, Aeryn's size, and just as quick. The clanging of metal on metal could be heard throughout the area as dagger met sword over and over. Aeryn began to get frustrated the longer this fight went on. The others had been easy, sloppy, messy. This guy had training. He wasn't letting the pair through, and it was beginning to get to her. She had never lost a fight, she wasn't about to lose this one. The man leaped forward, his daggers blocked by Durendal, bringing him and Aeryn face to face. "Give up yet, elf?"

Aeryn threw her head back and laughed, before glowering at him. "Cute. You clearly don't know anything about Dark Elves if you think I'd give up, sweetie." He had gotten close to her, a Dark Elf - bad mistake. Without him knowing, she had pulled out an arrow from her quiver with her free hand which she now thrust into his thigh, eliciting a very loud scream, while she then pulled back and thrust Durendal into his stomach. "Give up yet?"

Verdas

 

[PanOtterPus]

Orthrus stopped, panting. He had just broken the neck of a rather large wolf. He needed to take a second to evaluate the situation while he had a gap. The numbers seemed to be matched now, with P.O.W trying to overwhelm the attendants. They were slowly rising in numbers, but slowly was enough. The hound noticed Tyra being backed into a corner, shifting back to her vampire form and lunging fangs first into the opposing team. Over in the corner was Danto, freaking the shit out of the other vampires sent to face him. Some of them clearly knew who he was and immediately changed their targets, while others made the mistake of taking him on. The vampire had no fear and it made him all the more deadly in a fight.

The elf had somehow managed to get her hands on a sword that she had not arrived with, cutting into her foes quite aptly. The other vamp, Richard seemed to be more than capable of handling himself. Yet, for some reason P.O.W members just kept appearing. Speaking of...

A hellhound by the name of Theus stood before Orthrus, a dark grin spreading on his face. "Hello, old friend." Orthrus' face fell. He had worked with this man, his old master had summoned Theus to protect the family graveyard, which held a lesser entrance to the underworld. The two had become good friends.

"Ah shit, seriously?" Orthrus exclaimed, pulling a chuckle from the hellhound. The man gave no answer, he crouched, transforming into the shape of a creature resembling a dog.... loosely..... maybe from very far away. Theus bared his teeth, grumbling, "C'mon old man, show me what you got."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." Orthrus hated the shift - it felt like tearing your skin off, breaking every bone in your body just to have everything rearranged. At the same time, it felt that feeling you get when you take off really tight shoes after a long day. He shook his body, stretching back into it. Both his heads trained their flaming eyes on the hellhound, daring him to attack first. And he did. Theus lunged, baring his fangs, jaws wide, and gripped onto Othrus' arm. "Tsk," Orthrus chortled. His body physically heated up until flames burst forth on the area surrounding Theus' mouth, causing the hound to yelp and release his grip. "Cheater." He circled, stalking for an opening that Orthrus wouldn't give him.

"Theus, you know you cant win this one. Pick on someone your own size." Orthrus hadn't allowed himself to shift to his full size, but even now he towered over Theus, double his size. Theus didn't seem to care. He rushed again, aiming for the belly. And this time he had his own flames surrounding his body, trying to keep Orthrus from biting him. However, Orthrus couldn't take the change that Theus could manage to latch onto and pierce his chest. Instead, he threw caution to the wind and his right head bent down, snarling and gripped Theus by the neck, throwing him back towards a small group of P.O.W, burning the group. Two birds with one stone.

Theus pulled himself back onto all fours, glaring at Orthrus. Once again, he rushed, frustrated now. The gatekeeper could sense this. Theus' pride was being bruised and he was ready to kill his oldest friend. Orthrus didn't want to return the favour, but he knew what must be done. He lowered his heads, snarling again, flames pouring from between his teeth. Theus became a blur of black fur and flames, throwing himself forward, leaping into the air, going for the neck again. Orthrus ducked the target head, catching Theus with the other by his own neck. Orthrus turned the free head to face the smaller hound. "We don't have to do this Theus. End this."

Theus looked him square in the eyes, pride swelling behind them. "Never." Orthrus heard what he needed to hear. He knew how dangerous this man could be, and he believed P.O.W were in the right here. With an inward sigh, Orthrus clamped his jaws, crushing Theus' neck and killing him instantly. He dropped the body, and gave a silent prayer to the underworld for his friend's soul. This fight was over, on to the next. Mourning would come later. These people were dangerous and they had to be stopped.

 

[Halexia]

Tyra looked around the scene was like a recurring nightmare she had, blood and carnage everywhere, the smell of the blood was making her feel a little light headed, she wasn't hungry, she had sated her appetite when she attacked those who were attacking her, but still the lingering smell was knocking out her senses a little, then there was Orthrus, during the fight she had lost sight of her new found friend, she hoped wherever he was he was okay. She didn't usually care for others but Orthrus had shown her kindness when she was lost and... there was something about him she couldn't quite put her finger on but she knew that this was one person she wouldnt try and keep herself from. She made a mental note to try and find him, but the more she tried the more P.O.W would appear blocking her way.

Tyra sighed whenever this happened, yes she didn't want a fight but they obviously did,and, seeing as though fighting was her only way to find her friend, she bared her fangs and fought back, her chin had blood on it from her recent kills but that was not going to deter her, she had a mission and she was going to accomplish it, no matter what it took, her sense of earing was one that had not failed her, the screaming was loud, much too loud for her due to heightened vampiric hearing, the sound had actually faded down a little bit from when P.O.W fist entered the gala, understandable as people were dropping like flies and most of them she noticed were P.O.W their numbers had fallen to almost half the original count, she assumed this meant that they were winning, but didn't want to get her hopes up (having a fairly pessimistic outlook on life) although her hope was failing her as she couldn't seem to pin-point Orthrus through the crowd.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Xander was cut up badly, yes he had managed so far to stay alive, he noticed that Rick was handling the situation well, almost too well, his vampire friend seemed to be enjoying the action and appeared almost excited by it, Xander raised a small smile but made a mental note to keep a distance from Rick, Vampires + blood = dead Xander and that was a situation he was trying desperately hard to avoid, unfortunately without his beloved fire the fox was at (in his opinion) an unfair disadvantage, he was managing to hold his own thanks to fox cunning and an excellent set of hand to hand skills that he had been taught whilst growing up he groaned inwardly at the blood matting his fur, he hated being all sticky but it, unfortunately, could not be avoided.

The fox looked around to see how others were fairing up in the fight, the number of opponents had greatly decreased since they first appeared which he was grateful for, everyone seemed to be handling the situation well which again he was glad about no doubt the fox would have to go home later with his tails between his legs to (theoretically) lick his wounds, but that didn't bother him as long as everyone was okay

Pinconious PanOtterPus

 

[Rustic]

All too late Chase had realized that the wolf hadn't pulled it's attention away. Not that it would've mattered. If that was where it was, so be it. He had went in recklessly, ready to pair up with Caroline regardless. Having seen Chase's hit coming, the wolf retaliated again against him first. This one, he was surprised at first, wasn't as hard - nor was it made toward the direction of the wall, thankfully. But once his body had started to slide back into the alley, onto his stomach, he could hear why. Something had connected, just from the sound he heard. A vicious, pained howl. From the back, where he was lying, he couldn't see where Caroline had hit, but he could tell it must've been a big one, just from the way the guy recoiled back. Unfortunately, that also meant that his attention was going immediately, undividedly, in her direction now too. As he again pulled himself to his feet, his eyes widened, as he helplessly saw the wolf snatch her up with his big furry hands, seeming to intend to make her into a fast ball special, too. The scene was enough to make him rush forward again. No, no no. This wasn't happening. He wasn't about to let him mush her, especially not after he'd been the one who'd prompted the attack.

He couldn't imagine it would do anything much - not after he'd seen the nonplussed way the wolf had handled the other attacks made against it, but in his denial, he was determined to make it happened anyway. If she had hit something vital to him, something that was enough to draw his attention, then he'd just have to find somewhere else to do the same. If nothing else, he had to at least give Gabriel and Fifer some time to get some rounds off, to let them do the harder work. While it was distracted, Chase leaped up, sinking the teeth of his knives into the exposed back of the werewolf. He wasn't sure if it would be enough to get a good hold on the beast like he had with the Wendigo the previous time, but he didn't care. It didn't matter to him if he held steady this time.

"Let go!" he yelped, with much the force of and cadence of a child demanding something back, pulling himself up just to make sure the mutt could hear him. He didn't want anyone that might've been near the alley to hear or to come and check it out to find this, but he still couldn't stand it. This thing had to listen to him. "Let go, let go, let go!" he continued to shout, his face with red with the force he deliriously continued to demand with. He started to struggle with his teeth for one of the knives in his neckline, to maybe just get another one planted anything. Just anything to get this guy off. Just anything to keep this thing away from people who might actually be good.

DergTheDergon PanOtterPus Verdas

 

[DergTheDergon]

They’d barely made a dent in the beast, it was clear. The thing was a venerable tank of a beast. Worse, it had swatted aside one of the knife-wielders and was currently trying to make quick work of the other. It easily picked Caroline up with both close, gripping her in a vice. Luckily for her though, seeing anyone at all in danger like this tends to make Fifer do bold and daring things, like focus her aim on the werewolf-demon’s right wrist like she was doing now. Just as it was about to strike her out of the park and into the nearby wall, it yowled in pain, loosening it’s grip so that she slipped right out of it. Unfortunately, he’d been holding her around 10 feet off the ground so, unless something or someone broke her fall in some way, breaking a bone or two was certainly a possibility.

However, Fifer acted without thinking. Normally, in battle, that isn’t too much of a problem for her. A clearer mind leads to faster reactions, tighter aim, and generally, a better outcome. However, this situation was different than the norm. She was injured, clearlybeing targeted with some sort of vendetta by this beast, and she’d just taken all his attention onto herself, whilst this tank of a monster was in a blind rage.

Bad move.

It only took a second for the beast to rush straight for her, now ignoring the others. “Shit…” Fifer muttered, backing up as quickly as she can whilst also maintaining balance, switching on her smg’s full-auto setting and holding the trigger down like it was her last day on earth. The most terrifying thing was, she knew that it most likely was. Her Smg ceased spitting bullets with a n audible click. “Shit” On instinct, she pulled out her only other easily-accessible weapon at the moment, a grenade. She had a plan, but wasn’t sure it was going to work. All she had to do was get the grenade into its mouth… yet, she then realized that it was upon her before she was expecting. With the absence of her beast sense in this encounter, she wasn’t able to read its movement as well. It did more than simply make her aware of their presence, it made her aware of everything regarding the beast on a subconscious level: strengths, weaknesses, movement speed, et cetera. With that gone, it wasn’t long before the beast had suddenly bbounded straight up to her and pinned her down, its own blood leaking out of its chest onto her yet iit didn’t seem to be in any pain at all.

The grenade in fifer’s hand, thankfully not live, rolled away from her and came to a stop near Gabe. As the wolf slowly revealed its teeth to her in a menacing grimace, Fifer shakily pointed her hand towarsd the drenade, hoping to god Gabe got the hint. This fucker really thought he was invincible, but he was about to get an explosive wake up call from that dream, Fifer reassured herself. She tried to take deep breaths and keep calm even as he felt his claws digging into her skin as she lost consciousness.

PanOtterPus Verdas Rustic

 

[Verdas]

Feigning a yawn as she stomped her heels on the head of a fallen werewolf, the rather peeved dragoness by the name of Fifner took a moment to look around her. "Why are you all so damn weak? At least try to entertain me, you filthy worms." Piles of ash and mangled bodies were all that was left of the P.O.W. members who'd dared attack her, save for the lucky few who were simply knocked unconscious. The excitement she felt when the fight broke out was now all but gone. These masked individuals were so weak, that it was actually boring. Most of them bent and twisted with the slightest force, while others burned to a crisp in seconds. As a fire dragon, she possessed quite a bit of physical strength, though her speed could not possibly compare to a wind dragon. Fast oppenents weren't much of problem though, as she simply had to trap them with her fire and make BBQ so good, any self respecting Dad (a supernatural creature known for their superb barbecuing skills and obsession with building things) would want to marry her.

That said, she finally managed to catch a break from the tiring task of pwning noobs, and took a seat to enjoy the show. The face off between the wind dragon and the big bad wolf, and the two-headed hotdog, in particular. Lazily swishing her tail back and forth like a lethargic dog as she watched, a bright, glowing sword soon caught her eye. She knew a sentient weapon when she saw one, and it made her shiver from bad memories. She absolutely despised those things. The humans always used them to fight her, and while it usually ended up in said humans being cooked alive, they did occasionally get a lucky hit in. She shivered again as she remembered the one time a human with a sentient spear managed to penetrate her in a rather sensitive spot, and brought her legs together to cover her crotch. No doubt, a certain werewolf would share the sentiment, not that she would ever know.

What she did know for certain, was that this was going to be a long night and, quite possibly, not one where she would have a mate to sleep together with. It seemed that it would be yet another night of Netflix, but no chill. Letting out a long sigh of disappointment, the bored and lonely dragoness lifted her tail up to her face, giving it a sideward glance. It was a pure white and, fortunately for her, very smooth. It would appear that it was just going to be her and her tail again. Perhaps she should consider getting some of those human toys, though she honestly doubted she would be able to bear all the stares she'd get.

 

[Rustic]

Nothing. Not anything. This thing's pelt was so thick that it wouldn't even react to Chase trying to rip it's spine out. Unfortunately, he was not aware of the creatures biology - how almost every part of it's anatomy was virtually predator proof - and that would potentially be his downfall. Worse yet, the creature hadn't even bothered to give him the time of day while he howled at it like he did, just rounding up regardless for the pitch. Yet, still, he strained so hard causing to do something that he started to have trouble even seeing anything beyond this beast's furry back straight. It was a good thing he still tried, though. Due to a sudden lucky barrage of shots made on Fifer's part, there were finally results. The beast's gripped loosened in the wake, and then finally faltered, and like fruit from a tree, Caroline came tumbling down. Of course, upon seeing this, Chase was aware of what needed to be done. She was coming from so high up. When the werewolf's paws began to shake, he leapt to he sling himself off the beast's back, and with the precision one could expect from an acrobat, managed to slide underneath her as she finally fell back to Earth.

Thankfully for everyone involved, this exchange did not end up with her on the pavement. Where she did land, however, was not as unilaterally agreeable. He might've managed to aim himself under her, but even so, it wasn't as if he'd had enough time to choose how he'd done it. So, when she finally ended up on him, it was partially on his abdomen. Which certainly hurt; again, air found itself forcibly expelled from his lungs as the sudden impact of plopping down onto his stomach quickly caused him forced him to cough up whatever breath he had left in him. It was at least easier to breathe back in this time, though. And he did in stride, knowing what to do and taking a few gasping, deep breaths to try and even himself out. What he didn't immediately notice is where else she'd ended up. Depending on just how she fell, there was a distinct possibility she was on more than just his stomach. His legs were also in that general vicinity, and uh, everything in between.

"Are you okay?" he asked her somewhat hoarsely, his face in somewhat of a wince and his cheeks obviously reddened. It wasn't by how this situation shaken out, actually, but by the effort he had already exerted out of himself. Probably mostly the yelling, but the overall stakes here were a lot more than he was use to. It was an an uncomfortably odd feeling, to find himself caring this much about anything. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd felt so emotional. In the sad way people sometimes meant the word, and not in the general sense that his father usually did. Without even taking notice of Caroline's posture at the moment, he suddenly looked at her wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights. Or, after a moment, behind her. He struggled to sit up somewhat, to get a better look what was happening down at the other end. It hadn't occured to him at first the scene from before was continuing, but a suspicious sudden lacking of automatic fire on Fifer's part, and the sounds of a struggle coming from the other end of the alley snapped him out of it. He could see the nightmare scenario pretty much unfolding. Fifer struggling to hold on as the beast dug in over her.

Chase shook where he was. There would be no time for him to get up before she was probably torn to shreds. This thing's claws were obviously, just from looking at them, sharp like his knives, maybe even more so. He couldn't even see her putting up much of a fight, which meant she either lacked the strength to do so, or wasn't awake to even try. The scene made his mind go blank for a moment. He couldn't help but remember what she had said earlier to him. She hadn't had to. She didn't have to even feign that level of consideration for him. Which... seemed to mean that might've legitimately cared about him. And he cared about her too. To much to let this happen to her, he knew. In a frantic, desperate moment to try to help in someway, he managed to spot it - the grenade rolling away from her body. He hadn't been there to see it last time, but he had managed to piece together then what had happened. Did she want to try it again? A grimace appeared on his face. This thing was nigh impenetrable. Even when they had gotten this thing to bleed, it didn't really react. Not like the Wendigo did. Except for...

He turned toward Caroline hurriedly, eyes wild. "Where'd you hit the wolf guy before?" he asked in a panic. He still had not noticed where the wound she'd caused was - really because he hadn't bothered even looking that far down. Getting so low and so up and close and personal to a monster like that instinctively seemed like too vulnerable position to be in. But, knowing there probably wasn't time for her to waste explaining just exactly where she'd gone, he took one of his last knives in his hand and thrust his wrist out to her. He didn't know she wasn't a good shot, either, but she didn't have to be. He could try for something more precise once he knew where he generally needed to throw. He looked at her determinedly, unaware of the entendre he was about to utter.

"Let's make him scream!"

DergTheDergon PanOtterPus Verdas

 

[Verdas]

When the werewolf picked her up, Caroline saw her life flash before her eyes. All the times she was used to remove weeds, so to speak, her college days mostly spent secretly in the boys' dorm, and other such things that weren't very important right now. In what were no doubt her last moments, she thought of how happy two-face would be at having eliminated a rival, how Gabe would no longer need to be paranoid about his guns, and of Chase's relentless enthusiasm which had managed to put a smile on her face despite the presence of burny. She could not believe that she was about to be finished by a glorified rabid dog with no (functional) balls whatsoever.

But such was life. Things never quite went as you expected them to. Rather than becoming a red smudge on the walls, she instead felt the distinct sensation of falling, and was just about to shout another, "oh, fuck me," when her fall was cushioned by something soft, rather than the cold pavement. Her face was resting on something soft and, surprisingly enough, very fleshy. She felt it around with her hand, wondering what, exactly, this was, before she finally made an effort to get up, and found herself staring at Chase's pants. Then it clicked. "Oh. Uhh... Whoops?" She said, the discomfort evident in her voice. This was going to be awkward.

When Chase handed her a knife, she secretly thanked the werewolf for being such as huge threat. If giant, man-eating monsters were good for something, it would be for getting people out of awkward situations. "I hit it in the nuts! Also, erm, yours were... Pretty comfortable. Just sayin'..." Or maybe not. She never felt so much discomfort at discussing such things, but perhaps the sheer absurdity of the situation at hand was what got to her.

In any chase, it was now time to focus on the task at hand. She doubted hitting the werewolf's cracked and leaking coconuts would have much of an effect anymore. Instead, she believed that they should now try to fell the tree itself. Or give it an explosive meal equivalent to a night at Taco Shell. The insides were always the most vulnerable, after all, though there was the matter of how to convince the werewolf to open wide and swallow (she herself had no problems with swallowing explosions). Nodding with determination at Chase's outburst, which reminded her that she hadn't made anyone scream for quite some time now, she began to take aim. Even to the bitter end, she refused to admit that she was a terrible shot.

DergTheDergon Rustic PanOtterPus

 

[PanOtterPus]

Gabe was thankful the moment Fifer snapped out of whatever trance she had been in, taking the load off himself being the only one shooting the beast. He gave a small nod at her instruction to aim for it's chest, having seen the small amount of pain he'd been in at the contact of Fifer's bullet. Though, while the sharpshooter had no issues hitting the target, the pair still seemed to be doing no real damage, even in the creature's distracted state. Admittedly, Gabe figured "distracted" was an understatement at having such an area stabbed, but the man couldn't think of a better phrase under such circumstances. No doubt it'd hit him at 3am and he'd wake up to his lonely apartment with no one to share it with.

Gabe had no idea where that thought had come from - he had always lived alone, worked more or less alone (even in groups) - yet he couldn't help but feel that maybe his life was slightly emptier than he had realised. As if on cue, Chase's screams for the wolf to drop Caroline broke Gabe's random train of thought. He snapped back to his senses, witnessing the pair falling atop one another, into a rather un(?)fortunate position.

He saw the pair climb to their feet as Fifer's grenade rolled to a stop at Gabriel's feet. He felt a swell of rage hit him upon the beast attacking her, a rage that caused him to bend without hesitation and pick up the explosive. They had attempted the manoeuvre before and it had worked wonders. Sure, this was no Wendigo under the influence of crazy little critters, but what other options did they have against an enemy such as this one? Gabe pulled back his arm, sent a silent prayer to the Gods, and threw just as the beast opened its jaws to chow down, as Fifer's consciousness began to slip. He wasn't losing her. He had been told all his life that there was a first time for everything - Gabriel just hoped that today wasn't the first time he'd miss a shot.

"Now, guys! NOW!"

DergTheDergon Rustic Verdas

 

[DergTheDergon]

Fifer was long gone. Not dead, yet, but fast approaching that threshold for certain. Having your skin torn in several places at once by gigantic claws tends to have that effect, unfortunately. She’d falllen into a deep coma, her body having lost far too much blood to retain any semblance of consciousness. Yet, contrary the pessimistic thought that occured the moment before she lost conciousness (‘ah hell, this how I die, huh?’), there was yet hope for her. This hope came in the form of her three comrades, fighting strong, still, against their foe. Or at least, for a good while, scrambling to do so.

In the end, the three of them came to a consensus at the moment the wolf tired of preparing his meal with his claws. He came down with his massive, blade-sharp fangs, yet not fast enough. Instead of biting down on flesh, he ended up biting down on something metallic and sharp. Two of them, actually. For once in her life, Caroline didn’t miss, her thrown stabbing implement holding one side of the beast’s jaw open, Chase’s soon following with expert placement on the opposite side.

Seemingly delirious due to the sight of Fifer directly below him, the beast didn’t seem to notice much, trying to clamp right through the metal and resume chowing down on that infuriating Bloodseer below him. They shouldn’t exist, they should be wiped from the earth; that was what Father wanted. Father, who gave him the amulet. The amulet that made him feel invincible, all-powerful. Yet, it was simply an illusion. He wouldn’t realize this for a few more moments, however. He wouldn’t realize it, namely, until he realized, through his haze of rage and bloodlust, that he’d swallowed something that one of these puny humans who were foolishly trying to hurt such an 'invincible, godlike' individual (a misconception of himself caused by the amulet) had thrown into his maw. Some green metal object the likes of which he’d never seen before. A moment later, he let out a near-deafening, horrid-sounding screech as he felt a sudden, intense, burning pain in the pit of his stomach. It spread throughout his body, causing the wild beast to retch, tremble and collapse. At the same time, the unnatural strength of its hide showed its limits. There was not a shower of werewolf guts as one might expect in this situation: rather, there were small ruptures throughout its body, gushing blood, and smoke escaping the orifice that its cause of death had been lobbed into. It closed its eyes, dead…. Finally dead, after all the numerous deaths and maulings it had caused.

It would take the strength of all three still-concious hunters to get the beast off of Ffer. Upon checking for a pulse, she was still breathing, yet clearly on her last legs. Numerous deep cuts and lacerations marred nearly every inch of her body. She needed an ambulance right now or she’d die, that much was clear. Thankfully, there was a priority emergency vehicle call button on every screen in the Hunter guild’s app. Whoever called the ambulance, they received a notification that it was coming within the next 5 minutes.

The corpse of the werewolf nearby still bore a completely intact golden amulet in a diamond shape with a large blood red gem, also cut in a diamond, set inside. It was unmarred despite one of the ruptures in the werewolf being right behind the piece of jewelry, in its chest. There was a strictly enforced policy on any artifacts of a clearly magical nature such as this one. Call the Aftermath crew (another convenient call button in the app) to come pick it up, who will take it to a lab for study. Similarly, whoever pressed that particular button would got a notification of its near-immediate arrival. The results of the study will be released to hunters on a need-to-know basis only. This is to prevent the untold destruction these items could cause. The penalty for a Hunter so much as touching an artifact in a situation like this was immediate, no-holds-barred expulsion from the guild. This rule was put in place after a nasty incident many years ago, the details of which have been a closely-guarded secret of the guild’s higher-ups since its occurrence. This was to prevent word of the artifact’s capabilities from falling into the wrong hands.

As promised, the telltale sirens of an ambulance were heard a few short minutes later, followed by the vehicle itself screeching to a high-speed stop just outside the alley and two paramedics hurriedly carrying a stretcher to Fifer and hoisting her onto it. “Ah, her again...” One of the paramedics, a man, mumbled while frowning as he then made a beeline for the ambulance, stretcher, and assistant close behind.

Parked next to the ambulance, the personnel of which were currently busy hooking Fifer up to life support, were three inconspicuous white vans. The Hunters would know that this was the Aftermath crew. Six men, two per Van, with some rather odd-looking gloves on came out of the vans with cleaning supplies, walked straight past the hunters without a word, and got to work. They first and foremost secured the amulet, carefully storing it in the safe in the back of one of the vans and closing it shut. Then they, with some effort, managed to get the werewolf corpse into one of their other, suitably large vans, each having blackout windows for the very purpose of storing such things in there. Then, they began to clean up all the smaller corpses, blood, bullet shells and other remains of the battle.

Upon marking the job complete, each Hunter received more pay than they were expecting. This was to compensate for the threat of the creature they faced being larger than the Guild had anticipated, as well as damages for various injuries. The hunters would be aware that Fifer would receive the largest sum, if and when she was awake enough to accept it. Soon, the ambulance rushed off to the hospital. They allowed none of the hunters to come with due to her critical condition but told anyone who asked that they’d notify each Hunter here of any significant changes in Fifer’s condition, as well as when visitations would be permitted. With that, the hunters were left to head back to base with the guild’s truck, no Fifer available to drive it of course.

One Week Later

A week passed before any word of Fifer or the artifact reached them. Around 7 days after the job, however, each hunter received an email from the guild titled ‘PRIORITY: The artifact and Miss O’hara.’ The email was from the guild’s Headmistress, Elizabeth Crowne. It read as follows:

“Dear Agent (Hauer/Hauser/Matthews, corresponding to the recipient)

The job that the three of you plus Agent O’hara completed one week ago today has shaken up every branch of the Guild. Upon examining the corpse, we identified it as a mix of Werewolf and Wrath Demon. Only one other Wrath Demon had ever been encountered by this guild; It killed ten hunters before a team not unlike yourselves was able to bring them down. The hunters were all injured beyond Hunting condtion and were thus forced to retire. We have confirmed, after testing the beast’s DNA, that this hybrid was the son of that very wrath demon. Thus, we commend you on all surviving this beast with the ability to return to work; if not immidiately, in a few months or so. On that note, it has been confirmed this morning that Agent Fifer O’Hara will make a full recovery, or at least close to it. She is also available for visitation as of today should any of you choose to visit her.

There is one more important matter we must discuss, but we have decided to reveal it only when Miss O’Hara is better. It revolves around the artifact that was around the beast’s neck: it has revealed to us some very groundbreaking information. We are considering using the four of you for a very dangerous, yet important and possibly world-saving mission… or two. We aren’t sure what you’ll encounter on it, hence the need for all four of the agents who’ve been making such waves lately, Miss O’Hara included, to be present for the briefing. She is slated for hospital release in exactly three days. Thankfully, the monster did not break bones or anything so detrimental, though it came damn close, so she is recovering faster than we anticipated. We regret sending the four of you into a surely more dangerous mission than the last, but if anyone can pull this off, the four of you can. Miss O’hara has been notified of all this herself. You are all to meet me in my office at 9’ O clock sharp the morning of Wednesday the 30th of this month.

Warm Regards,

Director Crowne."

(Gabe received an extra line here: "P.S.: Agent Matthews, Agent O’hara has specifically requested your presence for visitation. She wants you to come alone." PanOtterPus )

Rustic Verdas

 

[DergTheDergon]

Despite the major dent that had been made in the ranks of the P.O.W. here, the chaos didn’t seem to have died down all that much in the grand scheme of things. After all, all that Yseri’s spell had done was take the weakest of them out of the fight. Their powerhouses were still certainly around, and still causing as much havok as they could to the bitter end. They managed to keep all opposition busy, smply because there were still more of them. However, one could see if they looked hard enough that the P.O.W. were quite demoralized with the loss of so many forces of their own. It would not be surprising if ,at the deafeat of one of their biggest powerhouses like Rollin for example, that they chose to flee all together.

This was Xaira’s aim once she stepped up to the plate: to stop them from causing any more trauma for people who were here for a much kinder purpose than they, a purpose she greatly believed in. These people had been here to find love, and to keep their peoples alive. Xaira felt that the P.O.W. must want everyone forced into hiding down here to die out, including themselves. It was ludicrous to her, and fueled her rage, a grimace marring her ageless face as she brandished her sword.

Hearing Naomi’s wings flap behind her, and then seeing her take off in her peripheral vision, made a warm relief spread throughout Xaira, which then felt as though it was re-channeled to further fuel her determination to win. Laser-focused on Rollin, grinning as they goaded her to attack, she obliged. Taking a deep breath, she then lunged forwards with a feint in one direction, then a speedy slash directly perpendicular to her faint once she was at the center of the arc the sword would otherwise take. From this advanced starting move, any fighter worth their salt would be able to tell she was serious. However, it was clear from Rollin’s own first few movements that they, too, were no slouch, which was perfect.

Out of the corners of her eyes as they fought, Xaira saw a magician’s staff being pointed towards her. Her eyes widened, feeling dread in knowing that many spells could entirely incapacitate her if they hit. However, before the wizard could finish charging the spell, in comes Naomi, returning Xaira’s earlier favor of dropping in to aid her. Xaira smiled lightly at this, inwardly wishing her new lover well before refocusing on the opponent before her. She moved with similar grace and speed, however Rollin was able to get a few hits in, matching her sword quite well with thier claws.

Eventually, Xaira realized a fault in her way of engaging them. Namely, they were able to get in close rather often despite her sword, and when they did, it caused her to double back to keep doing damage. The very moment she realized this flaw in her appraoch, she tossed the sword aside uncaringly. It was a sturdy blade and had never once failed her despite always having treated it this roughly. Bearing her own claws, she began to fight fire with fire; or, in this case, claw with claw and fang with fang.

“Tell me,” she said as she dodged one swipe of their claw. “Why do this? What purpose does this attack serve, other than senseless violence?” Keeping up momentum, she followed her question up with another swing of her claw across thier chest. They seemed winded by this point, yet so was she. One more good hit from either side would be the win, she gleaned.

---​

Seeing that Rollin wasn’t in the best shape, many of the other remaining P.O.W. became less sure in their attacks against the others, allowing for the tide to truly turn should their opposition act when the time was ripe.

---​

Meanwhile, Yseri began to mumble in her sleep as Vesuria stood guard over her. Most of it was incoherent. However, Vesuria would be able to make out a couple of questionable sentences quite clearly as Yseri began to writhe slightly in her sleep. “The vine goes in the venus fly trap, love. No, not yours, mine… aaaah yes, that’s perfect….”

Rustic Verdas Pinconious Halexia PanOtterPus

 

[Rustic]

Chase was on pins and needles as he watched one of the knives successfully plant themselves into the mouth of the beast... and then the other. It hadn't exactly been their intention, but they'd managed to make it work for Gabriel nonetheless, and the result was unbelievably gratifying. It wasn't the absolute gore fest he was expecting, but rather, a small spurting of blood, like fountains, from a variety of spots. It was something he would have found utterly delightful in any circumstance, but he was absolutely floored by it now, the unexpectedness and the comparative weakness of it to his expectation only making it that much more gratifying for him. It was a bang instead of a whimper, but such a unique death rattle was so much fun to witness. Instead of dancing around the carnage in his usual more fascinated, hyperactive way, though, he just took a moment to let the scene soak in, a wide, contented grin on his face and a memorized look in his eyes. This time, it didn't feel had just satisfied some minor point of intrigue, but like he had really fulfilled himself in some significant way. It was refreshingly invigorating. It was a more meaningful, rich feeling than he was used to.

Like most things today had, though, it changed fast. The afterglow was momentary, and it quickly dulled, and dissipated entirely, once he been reminded what it'd taken to get them all to this point. Specifically by the aftermath of Fifer's efforts that were starting to spill out more and more onto the pavement, catching his eye and tearing him out of his euphoria. Like whiplash, he heart suddenly dropped, and his body followed suit, rushing away from where he had been triumphantly standing to collapse by Fifer's side.

"Fifer?!" he called out to her. In the way that people usually do - panicked, desperate - but also pathetically weak. A weakness that came from knowing there would not be a response. His hands and knees hit the pavement beside where Gabriel was working, but quickly scoot themselves a little farther away. His eyes darted furiously, simultaneously wanting to look at everything and nothing. He wanted to see how Fifer's doing, and what Gabriel's doing to help, and if he needed any assistance, but he also can't bring himself to linger on any of these sites either, his eyes ending up turned down, to himself. He didn't know anything about how to help, so he shouldn't even ask. He'd been told that, and yet, he still couldn't help but want to, in a way he could feel in his slightly shaking hands, and through his strained, churning stomach. It took him a moment, but his strong urge finally produced a thought - he scrambled into his pocket and pulled out his phone to open the Hunter's application. He'd only had to do it one other time himself, but his fingers found the emergency buttons through muscle memory. He'd seen them often; they were prominent for ease of use, and he thought about them sometimes, idly.

He'd... never expected to be the person who did this. To be the one so wrapped up in the outcome of a mission, to be the one desperately watching, helpless and hopeless at the feet of a teammate. He didn't afford much time to thinking about morbid scenes like this, but when they did happen, he'd always cast himself off to the side, awkwardly watching for an ambulance. Worried, but disconnected. And sometimes, when he was on the worse teams, on bad missions, he sometimes even imagined himself as the one in Fifer's situation. And he wondered if anyone would be worried about making the call, past formality, past protocol. The thought of that had never felt pressing to him, even when it might've been a genuine concern, but for some reason, now of all times, he thought about it all again in the moments after he pressed, as he put away his phone. In that way, it was hard to know what he should feel now. He was overwhelmed by emotion, but it somehow felt wrong. Like he shouldn't be here. Like he was doing something wrong by being the one so choked up by someone he'd admittedly just met. But that didn't stop him, because they were all strangers, and Fifer still deserved someone to be choked up about her.

In line with that thought, he suddenly broke from his apprehension and finally moved to action. "C-can I help?" Without much prompting, or even much of a thought leading up to it, he had bit the bullet and asked through even a small stutter how he could help. Through impulse so strong it felt like someone had taken over his mouth to ask. Because she didn't just need someone who cared, he'd realized; right now, she needed everyone who'd help. The high tension was palpable, and if he didn't move on impulse to do the right thing now, he probably wouldn't move at all. And that's what it came down too. Either he could help Gabriel try and aid Fifer at this point, or if the other man didn't need it, he could just wait, move himself further out of the way. Either way, the next few minutes ended up passing like a blur. Through focused but jumpy eyes or absent, forcibly still ones, he saw the ambulance finally arrive in the corner of his vision, and as he looked up, the cleanup crew came in right behind. He got to his feet at that, and moved away to let them work. It was out of his hands now. He held his arms and watched, uncomfortably, as the two groups finished up. He felt so antsy, so ready to get out of there, but it was no use. They all had to wait.

When they were all finally done, and it was just the three of them left, the scene was left quiet. Anticlimactically so. They were all finally done with the mission, but it really didn't feel that way. There was no fanfare this time, no moment of relief, it was still over, and that meant it was time to go. And in the time they'd spent waiting, all of his adrenaline had worn down, in it's place an empty fog of fatigue. He suddenly didn't feel like talking to anyone anymore; really, it didn't even feel like he could move his mouth even if he wanted to. So he just walked back to the van in a bit of a daze. With Fifer not here, it was probably Gabriel who'd drive. That was fine. Caroline could get in the driver's seat, too, or maybe she'd even like it the other way around. None of it actually mattered to him as he wearily climbed into the back seat. He'd probably be alone, and being alone in the back just meant he had enough room to... to...?

The thought trailed off into nothing as he finally just collapsed.


"You had me blacklisted!" A day or two after the mission, Chase stormed into his father's office, practically kicking down the door, and loudly made this accusation. The man in question, a Mr. Edward Hauer, had started a bit at the sudden intrusion, but after a moment, he flattened out dourly. He had not looked untroubled before he had reacted to Chase's coming in, but after the fierce outburst, it was clear he was then a little worse off for it. And he deserved to be, in Chase's opinion. Still, the man straightened himself out, and seemed to reluctantly come to attention.

"...What makes you say that?" was his weak reply. It's not what Chase was expecting to hear, but he knew it as soon as he heard it that it should've been.

"No, don't - don't do that!" Chase stumbled, taken aback by just how flagrantly he was trying to weasel out of it. The audacity made him that much angrier - and he was already livid. For a man so wrapped up in business, of all things, he couldn't conceive of why his father hadn't bothered to learn to more convincingly lie, especially with how often he tried it. "I already know you did it! I've been trying the app all day, and you're the only one who would! Why?!"

His father hesitated a moment, before he simply frowned, moving a hand to touch the temples of his weary looking face. Chase knew just from the gesturing why the man looked so tired. "You know why," he finally admitted. He had been right, of course. He had guessed he was just too exhausted to keep up the charade, and that was exactly the case. "You should be resting," he said. "A concussion-"

"Was a lot less than what Fifer got!" Chase interjected harshly, slamming his palms down onto his desk. Okay, so it was true he'd gotten checked out yesterday by someone in the guild's insistence, a teammate or otherwise, and that he had been diagnosed with that concussion thing, whatever it was, but it didn't really change his feelings about missions any. All he had been told he needed was rest, after all, and he had gotten plenty! Symptom free, probably! And it wasn't like his other injuries had been that bad! His father flinched at the sudden, strong response, but otherwise, continued to stare straight at him, his expression stoic. "And anyway - if we'd be doing missions more, maybe people like the wolf guy hurt-"

"Those people weren't your responsibility, Chase!" This time it was Chase who blinked.The outburst was not nearly as loud as Chase was being, and they were both incredibly aware of that, but it was still louder than his own usual, and that was what mattered. "Some things fall through the cracks," he continued, softly again, but still sternly. "The organization isn't perfect. Doing missions more frequently than you were already doing would have just lead to a higher rate of injury. Especially after being concussed." He spoke fast, and his final word is said through almost clenched teeth, but none of it read as aggressive. Instead, it almost seemed dismissive to Chase, unhelped by the fact that he looked away afterward, his fingers steepled together over his mouth, stilted up on his desk by his elbows. His definitive 'I don't want to talk about this anymore' pose.

That wasn't going to stop him, though. "This isn't fair!" Chase demanded, sounding more desperate than angry now. "You promised you wouldn't do this! You promised!" His hands, still on the desk, indignantly shook it for emphasis, and the desk minutely but noticeably followed suit. He knew his father hated that, but he still felt compelled to do it anyway. He just wanted to get something out of him. Any sort of sign he was still listening was a sign there was still room to negotiate.

However, his father did not respond. Maybe the man couldn't bear looking at him, maybe he just didn't want to bother with this anymore, but he didn't look over. After a moment, he did concede something, but it wasn't at all what Chase wanted to hear. "Maybe I shouldn't have."

It was the most annoying, cliche thing he could have possibly said. Chase's brain tried search for something to properly express the now depths of his frustration, but all he could manage to do was put his hands exasperatedly over his face, and let his fingernails dig in tightly. "Urgh! God! You-" He tried, again, and his words muffled with his palm over his mouth, but still, he knew he had been defeated. His father was gone. To almost add insult to injury, when he finally moved his hands down his face, to get one last good look at his father, it's apparently now that the man decided to look at him, and with concern, no less. Only now, when he was scared Chase might do was when he actually bothered to pay attention.

"I hate you," Chase finally spit, quietly. It seemed to make his father more upset, but he didn't care. He turned on his heel and immediately stormed from the room, slamming the door closed behind him. Just wishing he could pull it off the handles. 'God!' he cursed bitterly to himself. God he hated that! He could feel his whole body bristling in anger against the door. That was how that conversation with him went nowadays! He liked to think he'd gotten better with dealing with his anger but God damn it. Conversations like this happened still made him desperate to stab something. He started to reach for a knife, but the idea of actually doing so made him one to stop, to actually take a moment to decompress. After all, his father had just ensured there were no suitable targets to be stabbed, so instead of going off to stab something undeserving anyway, like he so very desperately wanted to do right now, he tensed up his fists as hard, and took a deep breath. A very deep breath. And another.

He hated stabbing things that didn't deserve it as much as he enjoyed doing it in the moment. It always felt good to stab monsters, things that had no place in this world but to be stabbed, but almost anything else? Everything else was important, apparently, or belonged to somebody. He was neither but... no, it better to just calm down anyway. He pulled himself up and off the door and forced himself to walk away. Not being able to go on missions would only make the following days that much harder but, so be it. He could be patient when he needed to be. Yeah. As he aimlessly wandered off, wanting to get anywhere other than where he was, he affirmed that to himself in his head. Everyone was being patient right now. Fifer would come back if he waited, and then everything would be normal again. Nobody would deny him when he was on a team with her and Gabriel. Things would be good again. ...Could he really be patient, though?


Apparently, and thankfully, he could. It was maybe four of five days after he'd confronted his father. Four or five days of some criminally tedious yoga, baking, and practice sessions. All things he usually loved to do, things he would normally be over the moon to have time to waste on, but were now being done painfully aware of the fact he was idly frittering away the time. It didn't feel like he was doing what he loved, it felt like he was waiting. And waiting was God awful. Waiting for someone to text him some good news, to send for him, or to at least update him at all, about anything that had happened. But while he might've heard from Gabriel or Caroline in the meantime, it took those four of five days for any of them to hear anything important. And when important did come, it came in an email.

He fell out of his balancing stance when he read it. He scrambled to the phone, and his eyes lit up to see it was, indeed, news about Fifer this time. It was unexpected, out of the blue... and a little worrying. Though Chase rarely liked to dwell on what he thought were useless emotions - like fear or anxiety - if he could, he couldn't help but feel the grip of both as he read the headline. But then, he felt kind of dumb for it, really. It could be bad news, but either way, he'd have to go ahead and read it. He shook the thought away, opening the letter determinedly, but with some lingering hesitancy and he waited for it to load.

When it finished, he burned through it as quickly as he could comprehend it, and then returned to the top even as to read it again, if only so his mind could fully digest it. It wasn't as if the letter too complicated to understand, but the words on the page together were almost too dubious to believe. Wrath Demon? He'd maybe heard of the thing once or twice, and it had been in a horror story. Something hunters passed around to try and scare novices off the job; it wasn't like, a real thing that had happened to somebody once. It was surreal to hear they'd managed to take down something like that together, but all the more satisfying. His awe-stricken state over escalated to pure elation, though, with the lines that came after. Fifer was okay! He jumped up from where he was standing onto the couch beside him, where he couldn't help but cram a pillow into his face excitedly to keep himself from yelling out proudly. They could all go to see her! Other really cool, mysterious sounding stuff had gotten mentioned too, but wow! His limbs wriggled around a bit, unable to contain themselves.

'Actually - actually!' A thought suddenly struck him where he laid, and his whole body suddenly went still. Only to immediately spur itself back into motion, his pillow thrown haphazardly off into the room around and his legs jumping up onto the floor to race off to somewhere as fast as he'd go. He bounded through the halls of the Guild until he finally saw where he wanted to be - the kitchen. Everyone's communal kitchen, but he secretly liked to think as his own kitchen. He tore through the room purposefully, without even having to stop to think about what he was making, wildly pulling out utensils and ingredients. He knew exactly what he wanted to do for the occasion. If anything warranted a special meal, today did! He waited until he'd gotten out everything he needed, less than a minute later, before he finally pulled out his phone, and got to dialing. He hadn't gotten their numbers by official channels, but it was fine, right? This was a special reason he had called for.

Without waiting to see who would answer, he pushed the phone to his face and waited for someone to pick up before hurriedly speaking. "Hey, hey?! You all read that email, right?" he asked, almost incomprehensible as he speedily talked. He hoped that all had. Otherwise that time he spent waiting so very patiently before dialing them was for nothing. "What are we gonna do? Where's everyone at? Let's get together and do something! Pleaaase? I'm in the kitchen!" He wrapped chain by which his phone's charm was hanging by around his finger absentmindedly as he spoke, and when he was finished, he used it to keep a close grip on his device and switched it to speaker phone while his fingers and hands were otherwise occupied by measuring. Not that he needed to - he knew by eyeballing the amounts just how much he'd need, he'd made this so much - but he wanted to make sure to get this right. This was important.

DergTheDergon PanOtterPus Verdas

 

[PanOtterPus]

Gabe's heart stopped as he watched the grenade, pessimistic enough to believe that this would be the one time his aim failed him. Thankfully, he was wrong and the scene that followed was one that he would remember until the day he died. Gabriel had seen plenty of his enemies bleed out before him, a few had exploded in the past. However, this was different. The creature ruptured, blood oozing from it like a separate entity - some spurting, some flowing unnaturally slow. Gabe hadn't expected it's insides to be so ... fragile. The look of sheer pain on the wolf's face was enough to cause a pang of disgust within the man, as if he shouldn't be watching such a scene, forcing him to turn his head away.

At this angle, Gabe's eye was finally caught by Fifer's dropped body hitting the floor. It gave a yet more disgusting THUNK as it connected with the pavement. He didn't even think - he simply ran. The beast fell as Gabe reached her limp body. He barely noticed. He could only think about her. "Fifer?" He gasped as he crashed to his knees next to her. "Fifer!"

Gabriel bent his head close to her own, attempting to check her breathing. It was light, but it was there. He had been prepared to breathe his own life into her if it had been necessary - for some reason he found himself ready to do anything to keep her in the land of the living. Though, now all he could do was pull her head onto his lap and stroke her hair as he chattered away to her, hoping his voice would keep her in this world, with him. He was vaguely aware of the others behind him, heard Chase fiddle with his phone. Yet he couldn't focus on anything other than keeping her here. He gave a simple, "There's nothing we can do now," to Chase, and returned to begging her to just hold on, he knew how hard it must be, how tired she must be, but Gods please, just hold on.

Next thing he knew, a pair of strong hands were pulling him from her, telling him that they'd take it from here. Gabriel got to his feet, his whole body numb, and watched idly as the crew cleaned up their mess, fixed up their minor wounds and carted off Fifer's still body. And then there were three. Gabe followed Chase's lead, walking back to their vehicle in a mutual silence, and took the driver's seat, pretending he wasn't thinking about how she had sat here only hours before. He drove them back to their home, gave them all a forced goodbye and walked straight to the hospital. He knew they wouldn't let him in to see her, but at least she wouldn't be completely alone.

-------------

Over the week or so that followed, Gabe became more monosyllabic than usual, mostly grunting at anyone who would speak to him. He began to follow a routine of waking up in the hospital waiting room, heading back to his apartment to shower and change, hitting first the gym and later the shooting range for longer than necessary and then heading straight back to the hospital again, only to be denied visitation once more.

Someone had had the balls to approach him while hitting a punch-bag on the second day, suggesting he might want to call it a day, go home and chill....and left with a black eye. He didn't know why he had hit the guy at the notion of relaxing. He didn't even know why he cared so much about this woman - he just knew that, for whatever reason, he just did. Gabe had been reprimanded, revoking his gym privileges for 3 weeks, causing his shooting range addiction. Usually he had no need to be there - shooting was natural for him. This week though, he needed the distraction, needed to be moving. Sitting in the hospital all day pushed him to become antsy and he didn't want to lose his right to (not)visit Fifer. He couldn't bear the thought of her being there alone, even if he was only getting as far as the waiting room. And since the Guild hadn't given them the choice in taking time off, plus his ban from the gym, shooting was all he had left.

Just when he thought he was going to go mad from the mundane existence he'd been leading, he received what he'd been waiting for. He read over the email a good few times, sucking in all the information he could - though really only able to focus on Fifer being ok, and asking for him. "Why would she want to see me?"

Without further hesitation, even choosing to ignore his buzzing phone, Gabriel made his way from his usual spot in the waiting room and bee-lined straight for her room. Once there, however, he found himself back to his usual clueless state. What the hell do you say to a woman who you've been inexplicably obsessing over for a week, and who has also just happened to wake up from a coma? As he entered her room and they locked eyes, Gabe decided to go with something bold, something old fashioned and that never failed.

"Hi..."

DergTheDergon Rustic Verdas

 

[PanOtterPus]

Othrus, now severely pissed off, stalked through the crowd, snarling at anyone who came near him. He began to remember his new friend, Tyra and halted. He turned his heads, scanning the area and clocked her casuing some damage of her own. His jowls pulled into two fearsome grins as he padded his way to her, coming up on her side and tearing into his new attackers.

These P.O.W guys were brave, and had the numbers here, but their own side seemed to be holding their own just as well. "Glad to see yer safe, lil' lady!" He threw over one muscled shoulder to Tyra with one head, as the other chomped down on an incoming vampire. "Hope these guys haven't been to hard on ya." His body shook with a deep chuckle.

Orthrus began to realise that fighting these guys and trying to help Tyra was actually helping him to get the image of killing his friend out of his minds. He gave a roar, however, as a wolf managed to bite deep into his hind leg, causing him to falter slightly. He'd been caught of guard and it only fuelled the rage. Orthrus focused, his body heated once more, and flames burst forth, effectively turning the wolf to ash. "Well, that's gonna leave a mark."

Halexia