Poll
Question:
Oops!
Option 1: Wat?
votes: 3
Option 2: Holy shit, best get moving!
votes: 1
Option 3: OMGWTFBBQ?!!???!!1one!
votes: 1
Option 4: Time for the rooftop chase!
votes: 4
Winds blew across the main inlet of Haszalim. Winds that had started far off, way out at sea, and had whipped waves into motion and sprayed salt and chill over many a ship. Winds that carried the same bite when they reached the large port city of Haszal itself. Sure, it was getting closer to summer, and the weather was always warmer near the coast. But in a place to the north like Haszal, where the landscape was rugged and the people were ruggeder, where all the economy was trade, fishing and industry, and the old town, built on a bit of mainland and a heap of islands under a large archipelago, looked like taken from some old storybook? The wind seemed colder when it actually reached the place, on account of the old buildings and the few people out on the streets, as it was getting dark.
Haszal was a big city, and as old as it felt. Nearly eight hundred years of building on the ancient foundations and most of the architecture dating back to a hundred years before or a bit more, though updated on the inside, made for that kind of place. It was densely populated, what with no one wanting to live far off from town and the railway network that connected the place to more southern and eastern bits of civilization. Four hundred and fifty thousand people called the city their home, and probably a few thousand on top of that were just passing through, staying for some time.
Still, despite being older than beings could remember, and many of the city's creature inhabitants, though they were quite few in such a place as Haszal, could recollect at least clearly, the city was one of the most modern in the world in terms of trade, communications and industry. Officially it owed this mostly to its artisan history and education, and to the money claimed from oil trade, steel and paper industry, and low amount of bureaucracy. Inofficially, it might have been more that the summer season wasn't that long and that people were mostly either working or sitting inside, chatting or grabbing a drink.
Grabbing a drink was also a certain man, sitting in a bar. More specifically a bar down the corner of a tree-lined avenue leading down from a statued park, where the trees were just beginning to sport leaves that rustled a bit in the wind, shielded a bit by buildings on all sides. A car had parked on the side of the avenue, and a quartet of people who had stepped out of it were busy standing by a black, broad-tyred motorcycle of some kind.
Inside the bar, not full but not empty either, which had that typical familiar musty and warm smell and feeling of a place heated by an open hearth or two, where smoking was unrestricted and alcohol was plentiful at all hours, the man, a wolf by the look of it, quite handsome and athletic but with sorrowful streaks under his reddish light-brown fur that matched his dark coat and clothes, hunched over a glass, pondering over a few things that had happened in the last week and some notes on a paper.
Little did anyone there know that he was actually no wolf. Little did anyone know what he was pondering. Little did he know that the calm place was about to heat up quite a bit.
Richard was simply sitting at a table in the corner by himself. One useful aspect of undeath; you want to be left alone, and people want to leave you alone. Nobody likes to be reminded of their own mortality. He took a few gulps of beer. It didn't help him forget, and if he ever did drink enough to get drunk he was risking serious brain damage, but he was drinking all the same. Dimitri had claimed they were going to have a gig here, and of course never bothered to actually make a deal beforehand. The fae had tried to negotiate with the owner when they'd showed up! Fortunatly, they weren't thrown out outright, although Dimitri left saying something about how they would "regret it when they were big time." Uh huh. Yeah.
With a cracking noise, two things occured to Richard. One, that he'd been unthinkingly scratching the table, and two, that he'd just lost a finger. He swore and popped it back into place, muttering a simple ice spell to hold it in place until he could repair it properly. Marya would kill me if I forgot that. She worries that I neglect myself enough as is.
The door to the pub opened with a creak, the cold outside air blasting in and blowing about in little flurries. The man holding it open stepped inside quickly. His coat settled and stopped whipping about, sheltered from the cold wind, and the wolf let go of his hat, not bothering to take it off. He brushed a leaf from his shoulder absently as he stepped inside, walking softly to the bar. He adjusted the sword at his hip as he sat, and help up on finger, catching the attention of the barkeep.
"Whiskey," he said, his voice smooth and dark, the words pronounced warmly, but with a certain eloquence about them. "If you have it. If not, a scotch."
As he waited for the barkeep to return with his drink, he took a look around the place, his eyes drifting here and there to the various patrons, taking them in behind the shaded glasses on his face.
He raised an eyebrow at seeing on of his fellow wolves there, and a red one at that. It wasn't everyday he another wolf, much less a rust-colored one. Stranger still was the undead fellow sitting at another table, who seemed to be in rather morose spirits. He supposed that would make sense. He was undead, after all.
The barkeep returned with his drink, setting it down with a thud. He thanked him and took a drink, savoring the feeling of warmth traveling down his throat and setting in his stomach, removing a bit of the chill from his bones.
The other wolf glanced over Cogidubnus as he entered, muttered, ran a hand through his blond, cropped hair and then kicked back his drink, smacking down the glass with its two half-melted pieces of ice still in it down on the counter.
"Another one for me too," he muttered, in a voice that was just a shade lighter, but a bit coarse to compensate. His eyes fixed on the paper before him, before he crumpled it together and stuck it in his pocket. The way of saying "fold until it's all corners" came to his mind, and he chuckled bitterly before accepting his drink from the slick-haired weasel bartender and sipping it.
"Some evening, some week..." he muttered lowly, a bit to himself. "Damn mages."
A pair of men in dark clothes with rugged looks walked in through the door to the place, passing the ursine bouncer with a smooth slip of a bill his way and then ordering a pair of beers as they placed themselves at a table, a bit back into the bar. Over by his table, Richard was momentarily joined by a collie who seemed an employee and who, for show, offered a complimentary drink for him and then scurried back through a door to keep up her business.
The red-tinted wolf studied them all a bit, not directly, but through the reflection in his glass, with a practiced vacant and a bit drunken look, masking even that by putting the glass to his mouth and then sighing when putting it down.
Out on the avenue, the line of trees on the sides seemed to act as sentries, watching guests come and go out of the bar at a leisurely and lazy kind of mood, especially for the darkening atmosphere. The soft breeze blew through the leaves and made for a sound that one always loved to hear, something in the midst of nature. Natural indeed, were it not for the fact that one tree had a set of eyes.
Sitting on one of the stronger boughs, settling in a little concave of greenery and shadow, the eyes were cloaked and virtually unseen under the cowl the individual wore. However, she sat in a sort of half-crouch, one leg dangling over the branch while the other stood to help keep her aloft on it, and one hand held on to a higher outcropping of the trunk. Would she be seen, she would only have been percieved as simply lounging in the tree. But she liked the fact that hardly anyone tended to look up anyway. A snaking, black felid tail partially swung from the branch like a vine, unseen from the front and obscured by the trunk...thankfully, as a vine did not wear a tail ring.
She had been there for a little while, watching the front doors with idle interest. However it looked, the felid wasn't there simply to enjoy the sights. Something had brought her here...word of trouble. And of course, she could not deny being an opportunist. There was a grin beneath the shadow of her camouflaged cape. No harm in waiting for it, either. And I'm thirsty. The bar would be a good place for both, sí? As soon as there was little sign of anyone around, she leaped from the bough and landed gracefully and silently on the dark path, heading for the bar. A little fingering with the collar of her cape, and the enchantment's color switched from dark green to her usual liking, a blood-like crimson...a personal mark to the panther's profession.
Sat in the corner of the pub was a figure, covered by a brown hooded cloak which concealed any features they might have had. From underneath the hood, a pair of eyes coloured a deep blue looked out at the pub from the corner. Every so often, a hand covered by a red fingerless glove would reveal itself from the shadows of the cloak, reaching out to grab the glass of ale sat on the table in front of the figure. Bringing the glass to the mouth, which was also concealed by the shadows the hood of the cloak made, the figure took a few gulps of the ale, before setting down the now empty glass. Sitting there for a few minutes longer, the figure watched as another figure, its head covered by a hat, entered. Watching him walk up to the bar, the hooded figure listened to the man's voice; a voice that was smooth and dark, yet there was an air of eloquence about it.
Rising to his feet, the figure left his seat adn began to walk over to the bar, the cloak draping down and hiding most of his clothes. However, for a second the cloak shifted, and underneath a blue outfit could be seen, though it was now heavily stained; heavily stained by blood. The hood cloak had been been through some wear and tear, this much was certain from the various stains, dirt and rips dotted around the fabric. As well as the glimpse of the blood stained outfit, a sheathed katana could been seen in the second. It was not known was the blade was like, but the hilt and sheath were simple in design, and yet there was a beauty about their design.
Arriving at the bar, the cloaked figure sat on one of the stools that were lined up beside it. He had already acknowledged the presence of the other wolves at the bar, having raised one of his eyebrows momentarily at the fact, and was now tempted to turn his head and look upon hearing the front door of the pub open. Out of the corner of his eye, the figure watched as the two strangers ordered drinks as they sat down at a table.
"Glass of ale." the figure said as he turned back towards the slick-haired weasel bartender. The figure's voice was gruff and deep, but the figure said nothing more, staying silent before nodding his head in thanks as the bartender gave him the drink, before taking a couple of swigs of the liquid and setting it back down on the bar top.
Under the chilled coattails of the breeze and the cloud-coated sky, a vibrant yellow figure walked down the streets, the edges of her jacket whipping in the wind.
Days of traveling had brought her here to Haszalim, not out of any meticulous preparations or exciting holidays, but because of sheer coincidence and in the middle of her neverending hunt for her loved ones. Nowadays her entire search was dictated by vagarious whimsy, befitting of her personality. Not that Keaton appreciated it very much—it just made her quest a thousand times more difficult than it already was.
Because of the slightly frost-encrusted temperature, Keaton had decided to adapt her apparel to fit the atmosphere: still in her signature color of black--but much more conventional (at least for her) than usual, more concealing and insulation--repeated in different shades all over each article of clothing, from the lace-up arm guards and jacket to her outrageous combat boots.
They weren't so much made for walking as they were for crushing someone's head, really.
For a time, Keaton wandered, idly venturing around the town and deliberately avoiding people unless to ask them for directions or information about her family. No such luck. No one had seen any Cubi that looked remotely like her. Lianna, her sister, would be the most difficult to locate or ask people about, as she changed fur and hair colors capriciously to suit her mercurial moods and ever-changing impulses. Greatly discouraged by her lack of leads, the resolution in Keaton's posture started to drain, replaced with slumped shoulders and an almost dejected drag to her heavily-clad heels.
Mismatched, brown eyes shifted wearily in their sockets as she moved her head to the side, sighing in frustration to herself. She should've been used to failure by this point, having devoted over one hundred years of her life to her possibly futile adventure, but every false clue or inadequacy never failed to depress her. Sighing again, Keaton adjusted the belt strapping the immensely tall mace securely to her back and looked around, her eyes eventually landing on the nearby pub.
Now that she thought about it, drowning her frustrations in beer sounded rather marvelous at the moment. Her course decided, Keaton walked over to the tavern, opened the door, and entered.
The heels of her boots creaked as her feet guided her over the wood-layered floor, automatically leading the jackal to an available seat. Being rather seasoned at indulging herself in the occasional alcohol-drinking ritual (and PROUD of it, mister) Keaton was no newcomer to the habitual procedures of entering a bar and interacting within it--or dealing with any unruly, inebriated idiots and perverts. Over five hundred years under her belt instantaneously came with that sort of life experience, apparently.
After perching herself at a chair, Keaton stretched her arms languorously over her head, yawning behind a gloved hand. Turning to the bartender, she brusquely ordered, "Beer." She said no more. She was in a terrible mood, as her slouched shoulders and generally melancholy attitude displayed. Once the drink was served, she wasted no time in starting to guzzle it, paying no heed to those who entered the bar or were around her.
She just wanted to drink without interruptions.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
At the stranger's words, the grey wolf's face brightened, and he turned a lopsided smile towards his new compatriot. "Mages?" he said, with a bit of mirth, and not a little sarcasm. "Run into trouble with everyone's favorite magicians?" He grinned, and tipped his hat. "You have my condolences."
The drink was good, and he'd finished it before he knew what he was doing. Chiding himself slightly, he slid the empty glass back to the bartender before turning around to see who else was entering the pub. The creaking door was quite a good doorbell, although few patrons seemed to notice or to care. He noticed a red-clad panthress about to enter behind her.
A yellow-black jackal entered first - Cubi, by the look of her, the headwings being a rather dead giveaway, although this one seemed more interested in a glass of beer than leeching people's souls. He laughed to himself at the stereotype and moved over a little bit to make room for a newcomer to the bar.
The lightly concealed katana at its waist interested him, though. He took it in quickly, judging the quality, and murmed a low question.
"That's a nice blade." he said, his eyes darting from the stranger's blue eyes to the sword at his waist, and back. "Not many such like it. How long have you had it?" he asked, surreptitiously trying to determine his level of skill. Such a question would have been rude outright, but such a sword would have been out of place with anyone other than a very skilled swordsman.
Richard thanked the collie when she brought over the drink, pleasantly surprised. Guess these guys think better of Dimitri than most do. He took a sip of the drink, eyes scanning the place for, well, anything interesting. There seemed to be some sort of congregation of wolves over by the bar, two of them with swords. As he looked around a panthress, a jackal, and a pair of individuals that seemed like they wouldn't enjoy being watched. So many armed people... Did adventurors take this place over while I wasn't looking? He chuckled to himself slightly and took another gulp of sweet alcoholic oblivion; with his luck, they would all decide at once that they had a problem with undead right about... now.
The brown-rust colored wolf gruffed something in response to Cogidubnus' statement and sipped his drink a bit more, hiding the tension that built when he witnessed yet another man, a feline with a grumpy face, make his way into the bar and sit down by the end of the counter, tapping the desk twice and getting a beer in return. There was a slight bulge under his leather jacket, but he did not look the type of an adventurer, really. More some sort of enforcer. Still, he sat and had his ale calmly, making no fuss.
Three. That's three. Were there four in the car? What are they waiting for? the brown wolf thought. He studied the other people who had just entered too. Were they with them? He knew that he likely had a hunter or two on his trail since a week ago. He didn't know why though, or who. And he hated not knowing. It was not something that he was very familiar with.
Well, the cubi could probably be excluded. She wouldn't have revealed herself like that if she were smart. People in Haszal didn't make much of a notion of it, but they didn't like Creatures. Same thing with the cloaked one. He wouldn't have tried being so mysterious. He would have masked himself in some other manner. No, more likely it was either the gray wolf or the orangutan sitting over by the corner. Inconspicuous meant dangerous, often.
The wolf downed his drink and sighed, leaning on the counter a bit.
"Not trouble. Just disappointment. I shouldn't have paid the lousy creeps," he said lowly, in response to the 'other' wolf.
Aisha pushed the door open with a slight creak, the wind stopping and allowing her cape to fall back around her shoulders and nearly encircle her body. The eyes were still hidden beneath a hood, but she could still easily scan the surroundings and the people within. She minded the jackal succubus that had come in soon after as well, though she hid a look of incredulity at the fact that she hadn't hidden her identity. Hopefully Beings in here are a little level-headed. Her eyes had widened as well, that perhaps she had recognized the Creature. But she wasn't about to declare it in public yet.
She shrugged and made her way into the place with graceful and fluent steps, tail whipping idly behind her. As usual when walking into such places, she ignored any strange or cautious stares when they caught sight of her weaponry. The tip of a sword sheath could be seen, ornately decorated in obsidian, silver, and gold, and the light-made glare of another blade could be seen next to it, and whatever more could be hidden on the belt within the folds. She carried and wore nothing that made too much noise...stealthy. Bounty hunter, assassin, call her what you will, it was easy to see she was an adventurer.
One among quite a few, it looked like. Looking over the visitors, somehow the huntress could literally sense that some had a more alert countenance. She wondered for a moment if she was walking into what would be a brawl--especially when more came in who looked as if they were trying to be inconspicuous...and shrugged it off. She was here for a drink, and to observe and listen to rumors...a usual starting point.
"Ale, over here," Aisha waved to the barkeep in her usual deep voice, slightly tinged with an accent resembling hispanic, and sat down at the bar. While she waited for it, she too became among the alert.
Taking another swig of his ale, the figure listened as the wolf sat next to him spoke of his sword. For a few seconds, the figure said nothing, taking another swig of his ale before speaking.
"It used to be my father's." the figure replied gruffly. "But I don't know that is any of your business."
Rude is what he probably sounded, but the figure was not concerned, turning back to his ale which was still sat upon the bar top. Concealed underneath the cloak, it couldn't be seen what species, or race, the figure was. All was apparent was that he was male, was a swordsman, and was rather blunt.
It was then, however, that the figure heard a voice; a familiar, feminine voice, beside him, ordering a drink; an ale, like his. From the voice he knew who it was, as well as eyeing the jackal succubus who was also sat at the bar. So they are here, too...long time, no see...
The shadows released the small form like the arms of a reluctant lover as she seemed to float along the streets in crushed black velvet. Delicate black lace adorned the edges of her bleak clothes. If you saw her, you might think she was attending a funeral. Going to. Coming from. Living in. Like a tattered bit of cloth caught in the wind she moved through life, searching for something that was herself.
"Oy! Girl! Shouldn't be out so late." A male voice, belonging to a lynx reeking of stale beer and failure. She continued. He was incidental. Irrevelant. But when the large cat grabbed her shoulder he immediately became something else. Irritating. He wanted her; her belongings, maybe her body if he was that particular kind of monster. She turned towards him, her hood falling back as her ebony eyes met his, and slowly she smiled.
In the darkness of the street a wet, splattering crack filled the air. A male voice screamed in a primal, instinctive, terrified language once. An inhalation. A second deeper, softer... wetter... crunch. A gurgling weeze. Silence.
A minute later she emerged, flicking the blood off her hands as if she would mud before conjuring a cloth from the shadows to wipe his filth away. Her cloak barely moved in the wind, as if it heeded some other physics. There wasn't much that she would find on the streets this late. Instead she entered the inn around the corner, and if some thought it brazen of her to go to the inn around the corner from her murder, they obviously didn't know her. After all, she didn't even know herself. How could they?
Some of the less observant might have thought they imagined the door opening in a breeze for all the entrance she made. The bone white lapine's movement wouldn't have come close to overcoming the noise in the room as she moved to an empty bar stool. The tiny woman climbed gracefully on to the perch and set a rancid leather sack on to the bar counter. "Rosemary tea please. And a room."
At least the lynx had be able to buy her that in apology.
Nevermind, bunny-chick's gonna get wayyyy more attention. What the hell is in that bag? The baboon's muzzle twitched slightly. He could smell it from here; another useful trick as an undead was how much sharper ones sense of taste and smell got when it came to the living. Whatever was in the bag had probably been alive recently. Something he'd be able to taste... It still creeped him out, that one of the few senses that still at least selectively worked as it did in life was taste, and only with still-living organisms. He remembered when he was still getting used to it, addicted to one of his only remaining senses. He cleared the entire building out of feral rats. Eugh. Gross memory.
The bag's contents were nothing extra ordinary, as could be seen when she deftly slit the knot with her ivory claws and lifted the corner by her claws. Mostly dinged copper and brass coins with a few silvers mixed in. Of course she had her own money, but really why spend it if you didn't have to? She set the bag aside, ignoring the smear of blood along one side of the nasty leather bag. Whatever didn't cover her tea would be a tip for the barman. "Please, discard that bag if you would."
Some one is looking at me. It was like fingers pressing upon the back of her skull. Slowly she turned to examine the room. More male beings... nothing unusual or threatening there. Then she saw the undead baboon and paused, a mysterious smile forming on her cheeks. She liked the undead. In their own way they were honest and straight forward. Easy enough to manipulate when you needed to. Easy enough to be friends with if you wanted to. And there was one undead who... no. The smile faded. For a moment she had almost remembered something, but it disappeared from her thought like gossamer.
It was always that way. She'd see or hear something familiar... something that she should know. But then it melted away like shadow before invasive light. Some times it was even hard to remember the thing that had triggered the response. Was she under some lingering enchantment or curse? Her hand reached up, finger tracing the mark imprinted under the black silk fabric. There was magic, and then there was fae magic. She sighed softly, closing her eyes. Nothing was ever easy anymore.
Taking another swig of the ale, the hooded figure then lifting his head after setting the drink back on the bar top.
The smell of blood... he thought to himself. ...Fresh blood...
Not turning his head, the figure watched out of the corner of his eyes as another stranger sat at the bar; a lapine, with snow-white fur similar to his. It seemed that, for a few seconds, the rabbit took some interest in the undead member of the pub, this much the hooded figure could tell as he observed the lapin out of the corner of his eyes. It seemed there was quite the group gathering inside the pub, and one familiar member to boot.
Crap. Noticed, The rabbit chick had just glanced at him and got this look, like some demons reserved for beings before they ate them or something. Technically being a creature now had done nothing for Richard's opinion of the group as a whole. I would never wish to join a group so disreputable as to have me as a member. He immediately took a renewed interest in his drink; attracting the attentions of the psycho, probably demonic rabbit chick would be what most call a Bad Move, and one of the three adventurers was taking a bit more interest than he was okay with too. It was like some sort of crappy mob movie. He just wanted to accelerate the rotting of his brain in peace; in his opinion, anyone who came to a bar because they liked the people there either did so because it made them feel more successful by comparison, or had no business ordering alcohol and should leave it to those with important responsibilities to sandblast out of their skulls.
Aisha continuously watched the bar and its patrons as she recieved her drink, taking a few lazy gulps out if it at intervals. There were definitely many kinds here, and it seemed for the moment to be a level-headed place. She quirked a hidden eyebrow at the notice of the undead, one kind that the adventurer hadn't run into very often. Hrm, curious, but not looking like trouble... she thought and gulped her ale again and gave a light sigh of satisfaction for her thirst. She wondered what the familiar jackal succubus was doing in the same space as she...and Aisha thought that she had caught another familiar scent, too. What a gathering.
But it was then that the doors opened to admit another newcomer to the bar. Aisha turned absently to glimpse the lapine walking in, only to turn her head away again. The girl looked quite normal enough, but she could easily smell fresh blood emanating from her general direction. The panther's tail ring gleamed just ever so slightly beneath her cape, with the ebony appendage resting in a fold of it.
The huntress's eyes narrowed and she fidgeted in her seat, watching the rabbit girl take a momentary interest in the undead. She made a generalization, but knew better than to act on it...still, a bitter hatred for a singular race was hinted to only with a slight snarling sound. ...Demon...
Right after, Aisha returned to her drink...but one hand rested lazily to her side. After all, what she was looking for in the rumors of trouble could have been anywhere or perhaps anyone. ...Let trouble come to you, girl, don't go to it.
There was a time and a place when it was appropriate to kill, and a time when best just to kill everything that moved, and a time to sit an enjoy her tea. Not that she particularly liked tea. In fact, it rarely mattered what kind she had or what she added to it, really it wasn't all that pleasant to drink. But it felt familiar to her, and was one of the terribly few things that stayed with her when the sensation passed. And so she enjoyed her tea, particularly the feelings that accompanied it. Happiness. No. Not quite happiness. After all she'd been quite happy to deal with the irritant outside the bar. Contentment was a better discription. She felt content.
She stared into the dregs of her cup. Some thought that you could tell the future in a cup of tea. Personally, that had to be the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. All she saw there were wet lumps of tea sliding slowly down into the bottom of the cup. She didn't care much about the future anyway. The future was for people who had a past to stand on, but all of hers was washed away.
Another look at the undead. At his honesty. She didn't know his sort. Brain eating monster? Probably not. Most weren't, and she was glad. It would have been terribly disappointing, really. So cliche. Her ebony eyes scanned the crowd a bit more, and met with the glare of the panther. Oh? Her lips curled a little more as her ears folded back. She looked almost playful as she looked at the woman. My, some one was cute when she was angry. She slipped off the stool and approached her, stopping at the other side of the table. "Excuse me, but do we know each other?"
Glancing towards the undead stranger, the figure watched as he seemed to grow uncomfortable from the lapine's interest, as from his own, it would be. The hooded figure did not care, however. If people grew uncomfortable, then that was their problem, not his.
Continuing to watch the lapine, the hooded figure knew that his observations would be unoticed thanks to the shadows of the hood concealing his face. Looking on, the figure watched at the white lapine approached Aisha, asking the pantheress if they had met. Guessing that Aisha must have made her feelings towards demons show, the stranger continued to observe. From the way things were going, things might start to get interesting...
Aisha hadn't noticed the demon looking back at at her, her eyes having been concealed in the shadows of her cowl, along with her face. The panthress was content to simply trying to finish her ale, and await the events that she felt were to happen sooner or later. At least she wasn't feeling at all tired yet.
But before she had time to swallow another gulp, an ear craned in another direction to hear footsteps coming down the bar, towards her. The huntress disregarded the sound until the owner addressed her directly. There was a sideways glance, and her eyes could be seen glaring crimson in whatever faint light was cast in the shadow, toward the lapine.
"No," she replied cooly, trying to remain level-headed as she took another sip from her cup. Hard to do when someone's presence was a race she despised. "And I highly doubt that you'd want to know me."
Richard raised an eyebrow at the lapine's actions. Perhaps more of a western than a mob movie, then. Somebody who walks up to a stranger in a bar with that look on their face had one of three things in mind, and one of them (spontanious philanthropy) was particularly unlikely. They don't take it outside, I swear to god I'm gonna lose it. This is probably my only day off this week. He groaned to himself at Aisha's reply, "I did not see this coming and am suprised by this turn of events. Yes I am. Damn all adventurers," he rasped to himself, taking another swig of his drink.
"You'd be surprised," she replied with a small smile as she looked into her eyes. Shadows and darkness were no veil to one who dealt intimately with shadow. There wasn't any malice or condesention in her expression of polite curiousity. Not even scorn, and she had an overabundance of that. She stroked her claw lightly over the table top. "Well if you're sure then please excuse me. I was only interested in conversation with some one who knew me." And she took a step back and turned away, but instead of returning to the bar and her tea, she walked to Richard's table.
"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked in her soft, high pitched little voice.
Richard looked up. Damn. Apparantly I'm interesting. "Well, that would depend on the reason," The undead replied, not looking up from his drink, "If it's out of curiosity," he went on, ticking off the possibilities on his fingers, "Then it's alright so long as you pay for my drinks, since there's no such thing as a free freak show. If it's to use me as a shield when the adventurer you just went out of your way to frustrate decides to come over here, possibly with her buddies and their +10 longswords of overcompensation, then not only will you have to pay for my drinks but I reserve the right to bail on your cotton-tailed ass the minute they stand up. If it's any other reason, it's alright so long as you pay for my drinks because the most likely other reasons will probably piss me off."
He guestured to a chair. "So, come here often?"
"I would be more than happy to pay for a freak show when you show me where the freak is." She countered as she took a seat that kept Aisha in view. "However, I would be glad to buy a drink to some one interesting and polite. I'm afraid I'm not from around here." She said as she folded her hands on the table before her. "As for using you as a shield... well... if it really became an issue where I needed you for a shield I would deserve all the wrath to be delivered by her. I was simply curious if she had a specific reason for her glower, or if she's just a bitch." She continued in her smooth, fluid voice. She reach into her dress and fished out a gold coin, ordering the drink of his choice.
Shadows were a state of contrast. Light could exist quite merrily without darkness, but shadows depended upon a meeting of the two. They changed. Adapted. Yielded when they must and return at first opportunety. "I'm a bit of a wanderer, I suppose. I'm trying to find a person I lost years ago, and learn why she disappeared. Unfortunately I don't even know her name, so finding things out is a bit trickier than most. So for today I am here. Tomorrow, who knows." She turned and looked at Aisha again, stroking her claw along her lips almost pensively before she added, "She looks like the sort of person who might have known her... or maybe of her. A pity she's so unapproachable." Her ebony eyes return to him, "Oh... forgive my rudeness. I am called Somber."
She set her elbows upon the table, folding her hands beneath her chin, "What might you be called, sir, and what brings you to this town?"
The situation was growing very uncomfortable. Suddenly the whole bar was filled with a rather unpleasant mix of crowd. And a dangerous one, the brown-bronze wolf could not help but think. The whole place had begun smelling of a whole lot of things right through the alcohol and smoke; anger, discomfort, awkwardness, hatred and malice. And blood. Rich, exciting, full blood. It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore. He chuckled to himself once he caught her name.
The conversation seemed to spur the whole thing on, the clearly demonic lapine for the time the center of it all, and an emerald gleam from under the panthress' cloak a confirmation as she passed. Then there was the still concealed stranger, that strange orangutan, the glowering three rawhides that sat still waiting and...
It could not possibly be a coincidence. This was an obvious trap. Now, the question was only; what was going to set it off? With his former experience, Stygian knew quite well that getting the Hell out of there might be just what did, and might be hopeless anyway. But if he could, then...
Immediately, he had a plan laid out. The wolf and the stranger were collateral, or threats. As were the three enforcers sitting around. The orangutan and the lapine seemed like good shields. And...
"Excuse me, miss. Is there a problem?" The rust-colored wolf was speaking to Aisha, moving over a bit to stand next to her and lean on the counter. "Couldn't help but noticing the... tension." He almost looked to the emerald gleam again, but masked it by taking a sip from his glass and looking down.
Aisha sighed quietly as she finished her glass of ale and pushed it in front of her, leaving it up to the bartender for refilling it. Her gaze was cast to the ceiling briefly, her head turned up so a part of her cowl fell away from her ear. The action looked quite casual, but it was also deliberate. She thought that she had heard herself mentioned in the conversation going on at the other table...though even her sensitive and trained hearing could only pick out a few words in the bar, which was starting to feel crowded.
That was just slightly stupid... the panthress thought to herself. Raising curiosity like that. She tried not to be too mindful and lowered her head. At least she didn't have to give her name to any strangers, and especially to the demon...she'd never did know exactly who belonged to the clan who would gladly slice her head off, were they to know from what adventurer lineage she came.
Aisha heard the wolf approaching her before he could speak, but only turned her head when he did, her gaze just slightly tired of attention, yet her countenance polite...and cautious. She had noticed her tail ring was still gleaming steadily, as it did when it sensed dark magic or those who had it. The panther still had a hand resting near her weapons.
"I'm not supposing there is a problem," she answered and grabbed the handle of her cup as it was refilled. "I've always been uneasy around demons, with very good reason." She figured there was little reason not to be somewhat blunt. What adventurer did like them, or at least the deeds they were known for? But all she really did want was to see how long the peace would last. "...A thanks for your concern, but it's not needed," she said with a confident smirk.
Clearly demonic to some, it seemed. Somber's visual appearance was nothing more than that of a being. Shadows concealed the truth of things, and it was a simple matter to twist visible perceptions. The smell of blood and death from her recent kill was another matter. Darkness did little to impede scent as it did sight. To a connissour of carnage, the owner of the blood was obviously not hers. It smelled heavy, musky, sickly, and slow. The blood of a male, wracked with sickness held at bay from drink and size, and of a feline besides. How it had touched her was not written in smell, it was for anyone to infer. If the violent infered violence, then so be it, but she could just as easily stepped in his gore as she travelled and not been aware of it. But of course, Adventurers thrived on their use of senses that trancended the visual.
"Interesting I seem to be, despite my efforts, but polite?" Richard raised an eyebrow and gulped down some of his new drink (Some substance with a name out of a medical textbook and an olive in it), "What you see is what you get. Some people just seem to demand a degree of rudeness. Rich people. Assholes. Adventurers. The creatures that warrent their attention. Random creepy short chicks who show up smelling like recent death," he continued, laughing a little, "After all, without someone to remind them that, regardless of creed, they're only mortal... Well, they might forget." He smirked. Seeing as he didn't exactly have a lower lip, the overall effect was a tad disconcerting. "I'm a native for two odd years now; the only thing that ever brought me here was Lady Luck, a far bigger bitch than you could ever meet in a dive like this. Name's Richard. Call me Dick and die."
One of the wolves spoke with the adventurer. "I think that someone's about to do something you deserve, Somber..."
"My, so bitter." She said as she sat back a bit. "So what was it that lady luck did that was so terrible? Betrayal? Murder? Anal violation? The systematic and deliberate dissolution of your soul leaving you a withered husk of hatred and self loathing?" She smiled a little archly as she folded her hands on the table before her. "My apologies... it's just some times good to remind people who bemoan their lot in life just how terrible their existance could truly be." A public service of sorts, like his mortality refresher. She then glanced over at Aisha and her lupine companion, her smile shifting into a more resigned expression as she looked at her claws. "Well if they have any idea of what I deserve then perhaps they should share it before they go. I would be curious as to why they'd do something so foolish." She said as she carefully and deliberately flicked a glob of blood from under her nail and away.
"It would be polite, after all."
Listening to the conversation unfolding in the pub, the hooded figure took another swig on the glass of ale, finishing off its contents as he order another. Taking a swig of the fresh glass of ale, the figure listened to the lapine sitting with the undead.
She is confident...prehaps overly so... the figure thought to himself, a slight smirk appearing on his hidden face as he pondered what the lapine said. It was a mistake to be a smartass, but it was a deadly mistake to underestimate one such as Aisha. She wasn't a demon hunter for nothing.
Richard laughed a bit louder at Somber's reply to his little tirade.
"Betrayal, murder, and that a little bit of that last one. The third, not to my knowledge, but the night's still young, who knows what could happen?" he took another swig of his drink, "Jokes aside, respect the dead, toots. We're in the majority," he dodged the gobbet of blood and winced. Really recent death. Possibly still recent enough for him to... taste... Oh no no no, I am not going to break down in a public place. She flicked it from under her nail, for crying out loud! Ugh!
"See, that's exactly the mentality I mean," Richard pointed out, a look of concern crossing his face, "I'm guessing you're some sort of demon; beings don't go in for killing with their bare hands. They have tools for that. Very efficient tools. It wouldn't be all that foolish of them, because it's well within their ability. Just keep that politeness in mind, hm?" He leaned back in his chair and sighed, "You're interesting too, and I'd hate to see you get stabbed first time we meet."
"The dead may be in the majority, but those still walking and talking inspite of being dead is far less common." She replied as she looked away. "Well, my condolences for your troubles. I'd say I'd had worse, but I don't know if that's true or not." She looked back at him with a smile. "Besides, it would be foolish to attempt to out angst one as yourself."
As he gave his warning the lapine looked back at Aisha and her companion, "Would it be much of a loss?" She asked softly. "I'm sure the world would get along fairly well without me. In fact, it might even be bettered by my leaving it. I wouldn't know for sure but I can suspect. If she can destroy me, then it is her perogative to do so. I would like to know why, but what I would like matters little. The powerful destroy the weak. The weak survive at the sufferance of the powerful. And I'm sure that would she destroy me she would do so with sanctemonious satisfaction, certain that my mere existance warrants death, and how much more virtuous she is for acting in such a way." Her soft voice turned hard as she closed her eyes. "I have no time for that self deception or hypocracy. If she wants hate and contempt to rule her action then she is little better than that she hates, no matter how she consoles herself with her gestures of magnatomy and mercy."
She opened her eyes slowly, the hard edge softening as she smiled at the undead, "Though thank you for the warning. It implies a spark of concern for my well being, and is likely as not more than I deserve."
The rust-colored wolf chuckled into his glass. Oh, this bunny was a fun one. She didn't mind dying? Might makes right? Mocking Aisha? Hopefully those were no lies. Maybe this would all turn out for the best and he'd even get to talk to her afterwards. It would probably be entertaining.
Then he looked up at the huntress before him, a bit of a smile still on his face and a gleam in his eyes.
"Let her speak as she wishes. This is a monitored and guarded tavern. In situations like this I think it would be better to just walk away," he said. However much his look and tone was polite and calm there was something beneath it, something that he seemed to want to get past. As Aisha's gaze focused on his face, for a second his eyes darted between the stranger in the hood and the three roughnecks in their jackets sitting by their tables.
"In fact, I think it would be better to leave early this evening," he said, and then took another sip, his gaze not moving an inch from hers.
Outside, the fourth man stopped speaking, and started walking.
Aisha busily took a sip of her ale, the only notice given to the conversation going on at the other table having been a quirk of her ear in that direction, and still through the cover of her hood. She rolled her eyes slightly. How could a simple dirty look have garnered such attention? But the panthress hummed thoughtfully and just shook her head, mostly to herself. What does she think that she knows of me anyway? Though it would probably do me some more good to work on the skill of ignoring. The lapine's not important most likely.
Listening to the strange wolf though, there was little change in Aisha's features as she seemed to sense something uneasy in his demeanor, especially when he was intent on focusing somewhere other than where he had just looked, at the suited strangers nearby. Though she wasn't about to question what.
Not until the light comment he had just made. She quirked an eyebrow and leaned back in her stool just slightly, her crimson gaze also easily seen like a ruby glimmer in the dim light. "Leave early?" she inquired with a bit of calm curiosity, while hiding a tone of suspicion as she took another sip of her ale. Now the tension just seemed to have been added on. "Ah, in a rush, I take it?"
The wolf's smile dimmed into a determined expression, and after he turned his face to eye the weasel bartender go behind the bar his gaze returned to Aisha, his eyes hinting with some familiar gleam.
"What I meant was... I think we had better get out of here before this turns into one of those sad stories," he said, his voice changing through the sentence. She had heard that voice before.
The door to the bar opened up, and an alligator in a long black coat with a sour expression on his face walked in. He dropped something from his hand and kicked it, and it clattered along the floor with a glassy sound against the bar. Then, he began pulling something out from under his coat, while the three roughnecks dashed out of the way.
There was no time. The wolf screamed and grabbed Aisha hard and leapt over the counter, tumbling into the gray wolf and bringing him a bit along with them as the floor exploded into sparks and torn wood and metal. Flames started pouring out from the alligator's direction, filling the place.
By now, the hooded figure had taken an interest in the conversation between Aisha and the brown wolf. With his ear swivelling their direction under the brown cloth of the hood, the stranger listened closely, filled with curiosity over what they were discussing. ...Leave...why would they-
As if on cue, the door of the pub opened, and stepping inside was an alligator wearing a long black coat. Watching the strnager kick something away as he reached into his jacket, the hooded figure moved instantly, leaping off of his seat as the fires started. Reaching into his cloak, the figure withdrew a shimmering katana. As the figure ran, a white tail with a black tip exposed itself as the stranger darted between the fires, making a beeline for the alligator as the figure swung his sword round for a strike. Prehaps, to some of those in the pub were they watching, the katana and the tail would be familiar...
During all the conversations that were started and the general interaction, Keaton remained relatively isolated, gulping down her booze like it were the last drink she would ever have in her lifetime and staring miserably off into space as intoxication started to take its place. Wiping the residue of moisture away from her ebony-dyed lips, Keaton pushed away her third mug and leaned against the counter, grimly cupping her head in her hands.
She didn't overhear the lapine-Demon or the Undead baboon's words, nor did she make any effort to analyze them. She wasn't in the mood to do much of anything besides drink away her frustration until she either collapsed on the ground or chucked everything she ate since last Christmas.
Another thing Keaton didn't notice until it was too late was the arrival of the alligator inside of the pub, who proceeded to kick something in their direction. Blinking, jolted out of her entranced state, Keaton watched with a raised eyebrow as the indistinct object rolled past, then finally turned her head to face the reptile just as the floor burst into flames.
Letting out an involuntary shriek of surprise, Keaton wasted no time in catapulting herself off of the chair, launching herself over the counter where the others had retreated. Sparks and tongues of flame whipped into the air as the floor was torn asunder, reducing it to firewood in a matter of moments. As her heart hammered in her chest, Keaton looked wildly about, her ears laid flat and her head-wings--the only part of her Succubus heritage she hadn't bothered to conceal, for once--ruffled atop her disheveled mane of dirty blonde.
Pupils dilated, Keaton peered over the countertop, watching the fire spread. Nearby, the cloaked figure rushed out, drawing what appeared to be a long, glimmering katana blade from the folds of his cape. Instinctually, Keaton's hand grasped the handle of her mace, starting to lift it from its holster strapped to her back--it was completely weightless, so it was easy to carry around. However, at the sight of the katana and the exposed tail, she froze, narrowing her eyes.
'No. No way,' she thought with increasing shock, though it certainly wasn't unpleasant, 'What the heck is HE doing here?'
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The alligator contently watched his handiwork with a many-toothed grin and scanned the bar quickly. The three rough-looking types had proceeded in kicking the door to the back of the place in to spread the fire and were moving up around along the outer wall, heading behind the reptilian to get between the flames and over the bar. They were hardly in the way for the man as he brought out some sort of heavy, chained book from under his coat and gripped it. His gaze went to the incoming attacker and his blade, and then, with a throw of a sleeve he swept out a tattooed hand against him. Another explosion erupted right at his assailant, like a shockwave, fire magic and a bit of alchemy put to practice expertly. Clearly, the man was a mage of quite some power.
While the gator shouted something unintelligible over the roar of flames and the resulting sound of the blast, the wolf snapped out a large darkly silver-colored gun, then another. Slapping a pair cylinders into place he muttered something under his breath as his eyes turned black, and he glared upward over the counter. The huge revolvers in his hands glistened in the flames.
Then came another clatter, and he almost fired as he trained his right gun on the object that sailed in over the counter. Then he saw what it was and just barely averted his eyes, before a blinding light and a loud bang flashed out.
"Frickin' Hell!" the wolf snarled, and blinked. His ears were flat to his head and his eyes unfocused, his hearing and sight completely shocked out.
As the figure closed in the alligator, he saw his target revealed his tattooed hand, which was pointed straight at him. Knowing no good would come of it, the hooded figure dived to the side out of the way of the explosion, though his cloak was now quite singed on the ends. Just as well he dodged.
As soon as he had stopped rolling, the figure was on the attack again, darting to the side of the alligator as a leg swung in to trip the man up. Once he had done so, the stranger brought his katana up in a powerful upwards slice. The man was indeed a powerful mage, but the hooded stranger was a powerful warrior.
OHFUCK, was a fairly good summary of Richard's thoughts when the place started to go up. He quickly knocked over the table to crouch behind it, pulling Somber after him (on the basis that her first reaction would most likely be to charge in and as mentioned, he would personally object to her death).
Great. I keep expecting the other patrons to cause trouble, and this clown bursts in. That's what I get for expecting the least of people, I suppose. When the flashbang went off, he was still right there hunched behind the table. He started muttering an incantation for a small ice spell, hoping to put out any flames that got too close.
Indeed, she hadn't needed to be pulled anywhere. With surreal swiftness and grace she had stood and averted her eyes before the grenade detonated. Moving almost casually she knelt down behind the cover the Richard had created. There was no longer a smile on her face as she looked at the alligator intent on causing crude murder and mayhem.
She had a distinct loathing for technology. Any fool or idiot could pull a trigger or set off a bomb. Magic took skill and discipline, some times over years or decades or even centuries. It was power you earned. She sighed as she closed her eyes. With all the fire there were shadows to work with, but they were splintered and dancing. It would require more discipline to marshal them. She looked at Richard with almost an apologetic smile and shrugged.
The illusion bled away, melting as her form changed. The dark cloak twisted and bunched at her shoulders, becoming her maroon wings. Her hood twisted about her brow as her horns appeared, and the shadow dripped from her eyes like evaporating tears as her maroon eyes appeared. The soft velvet dress seemed to blow away in an etherial wind, reveiling the tight black form fitting armor that emeshed her torso, arms, and thighs. Blood red nails... no, these were claws... dug furrows in the wooden floor as her lips parted and showed her razor sharp fangs.
Without having the illusion to maintain, she focused on the shadows behind the rampaging lizard. The darkness began to seethe like a living thing, dark tendrils waving out around behind him only to pool over his eyes in a dark shroud.
Aisha's eyes narrowed briefly while listening to the dark-colored wolf give his explanation. Her muscles bunched, as if she was suddenly thinking of springing out of her chair at any second. Then they widened slightly as his voice became familiar to her ears. And she seldom forgot a person, even their voice. "What...?"
However, she barely had time to register it to memory before the doors were thrown open, admitting the reptilian. In a flash, the peace was shattered, the masked tension literally exploding into the ears of the patrons. Chaos was abrupt, and for the adventurers, so too was the action.
Before the huntress knew it, the wolf had swept behind the counter, dragging her along as flames licked the edge of the bar and had already started climbing the walls. She hung back there for a moment, just like many had done, taking cover within the too-small alcove. She wrestled to her feet with little effort and peeked over the edge, her hood having been swept off of her ebon face, catching sight of who was fighting whom among the flames, and who was left standing. Through the intense lighting, she could still see a katana flashing. And she definitely knew that blade. No friggin' way...
Aisha's shocked state wasn't long-lived. With a furious growl, she leaped from the back of the counter as it was no longer a place to hide, pinning her ears to her skull and drawing her own sword, making for the nearest of the alligator's cohorts to slice him down...and thanking the enchanters who made her cloak fireproof. She wasn't worried so much about fighting as just trying to clear a pathway outside, especially now that she knew a few of her old comrades were stuck in the midst.
She could only hope the shroud kept the alligator blinded long enough for that flashing Katana to dispatch him. There was something familiar... no. Right now she couldn't spare the time or attention for reminicence. Her long legs bunched up beneath her, toe claws digging into the floor for purchase and she proceeded to move. Aisha moved towards one, and she to the second of the three thugs. She didn't attack directly, of course, but rather around and to the side.
The sensation was not unlike a sculpter pressing their fingers into soft clay. Holding the attacker's shoulder in one hand, her fingers pressed into his flesh beneath the curve of his ribs. There was only a moment of resistance, and then she felt her fingers moving inside, fingers together in a scooping shape. Hot blood fresh from the vein gloved her hand as fingers, then palm, then wrist sunk into his body. Her touch detected the firmness of organs, the movement of muscle, and the ever present drip of blood as she drove her hand into his side. Almost clinically she identified the organs by touch and location. Spleen. Gall bladder. Pancreas. The tip of his liver.
Then the scoop turned, the fingers spread wide, the claws extended, and reversed her hand's direction. Blood and gore exploded from the wound as she ripped her hand free. A bloody, dripping void remained in his side. The thug was dead, or would be shortly when his body's fluids finished emptying out the hole. "I bear you no malice," she replied softly, "But you really shouldn't have interupted my conversation."
The alligator almost made a grin, half angered and half bemused at the resistance he was getting. Not minding his companions, he clasped the chain-bound tome in his hand harder with clawed, leathery fingers. His eyes, glowing like embers, burst flames, and then so did suddenly the ground around him. The windows and glasses that had not been smashed asunder by the initial blast were so then, as a shockwave spread out from him, burning and ripping asunder everything around him, leaving scratches on the cleaned-out floor and sending both his assailant and the tendrilous darkness back with force, cutting and thrusting and scarring.
When the fiery wave subsided, two of the gator's companions were laying dead on the floor, their clothes and skin shredded. The third one was thrown behind a table and dying from the wound that Somber had given him, clutching some sort of huge knife in his hand. The alligator just stood, smirking in the middle of a floor swept clean, his eyes still burning and his feet floating a few centimetres off it before he sank down.
"Learn to stay to your business, hunters!" he almost laughed out, and then turned, dropping something behind him, a small clear glass orb with a slowly rolling substance in its centre. He pushed quickly through the doors as he hurried back out.
Behind the counter, sight and hearing were returning to the rusted wolf's senses, fortunately faster than what was natural. With a furious growl he got up and laid an arm and a gun across the smooth counter, but didn't have time to aim with blurry eyes and the gator moving away. He got two shots away, both misses that just smacked through the wood of the door. And then he saw the floor.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he shouted, and threw himself past the panthress and away against the backdoor exit. "Everybody out!" he roared.
Richard didn't have to be told twice. Venting the ice spell he'd prepared to cover as much of the burning areas as he could in frost, he reached out and swatted Somber on the wing to get her attention.
"Alright Hannibal, we're all impressed. Now lets get out of here before we have to find out why that doesn't work on fire. C'mon, you." Not waiting for her answer, he wheeled and made for the door at top speed, the occasional tearing or creaking noise accompanying his movements, "Save those conversational skills for those who can answer!"
As the hooded figure brought his blade around for the strike, he was suddenly forced backwards thanks to the skills of the mage. Watching the alligator with narrowed eyes, the stranger's gaze then fell upon the thing on the floor and, hearing the rusted wolf's words, took heed, grabbing the wolf who had been sitting next to him on the way towards the back door. What was supposed to be a quiet evening had gotten a lot more exciting, that was for sure.
She had swung the still standing thug between her and the lizard to catch the brunt of the explosion, letting it carry them through the air and into the wall. Her wings flapped as she twisted in midair to land neatly on all fours, against the wall while her victim smashed into a heap. Dropping to the floor neatly she looked at the gator as he left... and what he left behind. "Spit and ashes," she muttered, and then jerked at the smack, her bloody hand raised a moment to strike before she halted herself and lowered her hand. She followed him out into the chill night, glad to be away from the fire and light. As she stepped out the door she summoned the copious shadows and let the darkness restore her illusion. Following Richard, she pulled a black hankerchief from the darkness and wiped away the blood upon it.
Aisha snarled as she slashed straight into the back of the one minion, not long before the reptile's blast rendered the rest of the bar to shreds, shards of glass and splinters flying every which way and at times sticking into skin. They made few wounds though, too little to be noticed amidst burns or the adrenaline coursing through frightened and angered adventurers and Creatures. If her quarry wasn't dead as soon as she had hit him, then he certainly was after the shockwave threw everyone a few yards back. And by her disgust, he cared nothing for the dead around him.
"That should go for you!" the panthress had started to shout after the gator, about to show him her own sword, only to be interrupted shortly by the wolf. And by the way everyone was quickly exiting, she was inclined to agree that was the best measure taken. Crapcrapcrap...
She only quickly searched around for survivors before sheathing her sword and leaping after everyone through the back door, and back into the shadows of the night, looking back at the heavily-singed roof of the bar...or what was certainly soon to be left of it...the felid pulled the cowl back over her head, racing after the others and stopping among them with a skid on the ground.
Richard couldn't feel the cold, and didn't exactly calmly stroll outside. He hadn't stopped running until he was a good block away. He was waiting there reconciling the fact that he'd just seen a few people die, a bar be engulfed in flames, and overall a lot of senseless violence. He was never an adventurer; he had been on one or two adventures, but that hardly qualified. This was not part of his normal week. He was still standing there and rubbing his eyes when Somber caught up with him, and hadn't noticed that the cuff of his pants had caught fire; no sense of pain, being dead.
Richard could smell the blood on Somber. Saw what she'd done. Can I call them or what? Cold blooded killer. He sure as hell wasn't going to comment on it though. Besides, he didn't entirely object to her killing those individuals. It was just creepy how she'd done it.
"You alright?" He would have been panting, if he still breathed. Instead, there was just this extra creak to the usual rasp of his voice; that all out run had taken a lot out of some choice muscles.
There was not quite enough time for them all to get out the back door. The thing had been barred shut from the outside, and the wolf had to kick it out to allow them. Once he did, they were all about to cram out through it. But they didn't. Instead, they were more correctly hurled out through it as an explosion shook the whole building, blasting out the front walls like nothing and smashing most of the house's structure to pieces. The structure was fortunately just three stories tall, and balanced on its back a bit, so that what was not held up by the adjacent buildings fell forward against the street that was directed out against the waterfront. But crumbling pieces of house still landed dangerously close to where the five who had been sitting in the bar were strewn about, back in the alley behind the place.
Getting to his feet after having been slammed into a crate, the back and end of his coat having been torn and shredded by shrapnel and his form still smoking, the rust-colored wolf steadied himself against a wall and looked around. The jackal lay in a garbage pile, hurled oddly with her head down. The panthress he had managed to cushion a bit, though she was down on the stone-tiled ground now. And two wolves, one grey and one white, were thrown head-over-heels up against a tarp covering some barrels.
The rust-colored wolf just stood there looking a bit, before reaching down a hand to help Aisha up.
"Well, not a sad story, that's for sure," he muttered. "Just a violent one. As always." He shot a look to the wolves and made a bitter smirk. "I'd tell them it's a tarp, but I think they know."
No sooner had the figure sheathed his sword and gotten through the door had he been thrown out by a powerful explosion. Everything seemed to be a blur for a second, before he felt himself land hard against something. Slowly but surely rising to his feet, the figure dusted himself off, before realising that his hood had been lifted from his head in the explosion. Not sure if anyone had seen, the familiar white furred wolf put the hood back over his head as he turned to inspect the others...
As the blast rocketed behind the group, pushing and scattering them forward through the darkened ally with a heat-ridden intensity that only seemed possible coming from hell, Aisha fell quite ungracefully to the ground, though her landing was cushioned somewhat. "Ugh..." she growled out of ebbing anger and rising frustration, wondering what kind of fate was playing at her now to have walked into such a literally explostive start to a quest.
At least we're sharing some pain, the panthress thought with grim humor, looking around at the strewn individuals. She hoped that her comrades were unhurt...at least one of them was, she noticed, only glimpsing the white wolf's countenance for but a moment. Knew it.
Looking back up at the other, darker lupine, Aisha's eyes were narrowed just slightly, before she released a cough of debris and dust inhaled from her lungs and accepted his hand with a light laugh at his comment. "Thanks. And I'll take violent over sad so long as it leads to something for everyone, be it a happy ending or a sense of justice," she replied, her crimson gaze meeting his.
Then, it slowly turned from light-hearted to a grimace. "Speaking of which, there's one thing."
Without moving her eyes, quick metallic sound was heard. With her gleaming bladed boomerang held up in one grip and the wolf's hand in the other, the huntress gave a very serious glare, her voice more in a calm and level accusatory tone than a threatening one, even if intimidating. "I think that we would like to know...what...the...hell...just happened, and why." She smirked. "Care to say something?"
"Of course." She seemed almost surprised at the question as she wiped away the blood before tossing the cloth aside. The magic left it, and it reverted back into shadow. Once more she seemed the small, black eyed little rabbit in the black dress and cloak. "Had he of focused flame upon me I might have been injured, but unfocused it was rather incidental." She paused and looked back at the inn and the adventurers outside it. "I believe that I should return to the others. I want to know what is going on. Some one blasting an inn I am visiting is unforgivably rude and those adventurers may know something of it." She turned and started back and then stopped and smiled at him. "I understand if you don't wish to accompany me, Richard. If you're not involved, then perhaps it would be best if you go home." She paused and added, "But if you did want to accompany me, I would be grateful."
With that she approached the pantheress and wolf and others, her hands crossing behind her back as she picked up those last words spoken by the hunter. "I would also like to ask that same question. I would like to know who those people were and why they were so bloodthirsty."
Richard considered his options, and reached an important conclusion.
"The roomate's gonna want to know where he hell I got these scorchmarks anyway," he replied, finally noticing the flames on the cuffs of his pant leg and hastily stomping them out, "May as well have some answers for her if I don't want to spend the rest of the night trying to find my toes." He brushed himself off and grinned, "How do I look? Reputable enough to talk to a bunch of big, bad adventurers?"
She looked back at him and nodded warmly. "This is Richard. Call him Dick and die. He's a bit unpleasant at first, but I suspect he has a good heart." She then looked back at the others, "I am called Somber." Not a name, but something she was called. A pointed difference. "I would very much like to know if I have some how inadvertantly earned an enemy by coming here."
Upon the copper-colored wolf's orders, Keaton tucked the mace she had slipped out of its makeshift holster back into place and sprinted after the rest, her boot-clad feet manuevering her swiftly through the roaring flames and beside the retreating group. The alligator had made his escape along with his remaining comrades; the rest had been killed, one of them done in by the lapine Demon's own, bloodstained claws. If it were any other scenario, Keaton probably would've been impressed, maybe even intimidated, but she was too distracted by the fire that had consumed the floor and was rapidly growing through the rest of the pub.
Once she made it outside, Keaton nearly collapsed in relief altogether, gasping. She hated fire. Was a complete pyrophobic. How she was able to keep herself from having a panic attack in the presence of the growing flames was beyond her, but despite this small exercise of self-control, she couldn't restrain the shudders that wracked her body.
"Gah," Keaton muttered, dropping her head in her hands. Great, just great. All she wanted was a fucking beer, and then this happens. Not that she wasn't used to dramatic interruptions, though, as her life had become a sordid tangle of such misadventures. Hand slipping up to bind itself in her dirty blonde mane of hair, Keaton asked no one in particular, "Can anyone explain what the hell just happened?"
She certainly wasn't the only one. The pantheress (who was becoming steadily more familiar to her, especially once she brandished her boomerang) had demanded the very same thing, advancing threateningly on the rust-colored wolf. Certainly Keaton wasn't going to stop her. In fact, she encouraged it. Drawing her mace out from its cradle, she walked over, making no effort to stop Aisha.
"I'd like to know as well," she said coldly, "So start talking. Now."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"Please. Violence and threats have their place and time. Now isn't one of them." She smiled at the red brown lupine, her eyes dark as buttons. "Please sir, what is happening? I trust there is an acceptable explaination for this night. Unless grand displays of pyrotechnics are the norm?" She asked, looking back at Richard, then back at the wolf. Shadow was a substance of unpridictability and contrast. It was no difficult task to assume a calm demeanor. Of course the glove of smeared gore that remained on her left hand reminded otherwise.
The dark bronze wolf didn't even flinch at Aisha's sudden threat, but he did adjust his feet the slightest, his souls scraping a bit, and regarded the sharp blade of the boomerang coldly, his smile vanishing. One of his guns was laying over by the crate, down on the ground, but the other he held in his right hand in a slung grip. He wasn't a slow draw, and the panthress' blade couldn't do much more than cause him pain, but if he got into a tangle with her, with these people around...
"I really know about as much about what happened here as you. I came here to see an old acquaintance over new business, and then these people show up," he muttered, slinging his heavy gun around and slipping it adeptly into a thigh-held holster. "I have seen that alligator before, but there isn't much more I can tell you this shortly." Well, that wasn't a lie. But he would hardly entrust them with all knowledge of events right there and then, even if the attack indeed had been aimed at them as well.
"Now, what are you prepared to say or do in return? I think you know by now that you have a poor chance at bringing me down in a straight-off fight, Aish, even if you do have your friends with you. By the way, nice to meet you again, Gareeku." The wolf smirked and made a nod in the hooded man's direction.
The panther hadn't moved as he made his answer, her gaze still rigid and focused. Still, she was more prone to listening than making any kind of move as of yet. Sometimes she would glimpse the gun that the wolf carried in caution.
"Hm," she replied after a second of thought. "I wouldn't underestimate my friends..." Aisha cast a quick smile at Gareeku and a friendly nod to Keaton before turning back to the coppery wolf. Slowly, she lowered her boomerang and put it back to her belt. He had helped her, after all, as well as ordering everyone else out of the destroyed bar. Not to mention that though it was hard for her to accept, he was indeed right.
"There won't be a fight...now. But there will be answers at one point." The look she gave back to him was a glare of finality, before turning back into a quiet smirk.
The panthress sighed and crossed her arms. Such as why that alligator made so bold a move as to blow up an entire bar gettting to someone. Or all of us... she thought grimly.
Before she made any more assumptions, however, Aisha did turn to her friends, deciding to keep the situation as much light-hearted as could be managed. "Wonderful to see the both of you again indeed. Soon as we reach a safer place than a dark alley I'll have to interrogate you on how the hell you've been," she laughed, directing the comment mostly at the hooded Gareeku. Then to the new faces, she paused before politely bowing her head. They did introduce themselves...the hunter could be tolerant at least. "I'm Aisha. Greetings."
Richard nodded to the pantheress, muttered a quick "Nice t'meetcha," and turned back toward the red wolf.
"Alright, you who know this guy may be used to this, but I personally don't appreciate being bullshitted. 'S just not something I take well to. If you've run into the leather-headed pyro before then by definition you know more than you've said. Is he likely to keep doing this all over the damn place?" Someone that okay with being seen has to have either a patch or friends in the highest or lowest of places, and this doesn't seem like someone prone to subtlety. If this sort of night starts becoming common because this goddamn gunslinging poncey MUTT couldn't cover his damn tracks, I swear I'm gonna lose it...
The wolf raised an eyebrow at the undead one's aggravation. A feisty one, eh? He didn't appreciate people with too loud a temper, or undead for that matter. Not at all. And people were already aware of his identity, or would be, if the guns hadn't given him away already. That meant a little scare was in order.
"There's a wide line between bullshit and laying your words, ape," the wolf hissed, his voice changing as he took a pair of slow steps forward. And as he did, his entire skin and fur started to become ashen, black cracks spreading over his body and darkness practically rolling off him, little seething tendrils and flares of darkness rippling as he began shifting form, things crawling under his decaying hide.
"One is knowing what's appropriate and the other is not. Which one did you just commit to?" he said, flashing teeth that for a second were as black as the 'flesh' in his mouth and his eyes had turned. Then, as his new shape settled, his torn and cracked features again mended and gained color.
If one looked to character, the man who now stood in front of Richard was practically the polar opposite of the pleasant-faced and straight-cut wolf. He was a bat, of about the same height, perhaps a bit shorter, probably spot on six feet. Blond and long-haired and with fur in very nearly the precise same tone, he had mildly rounded but strong and sharp features, and very handsome at that, though there was a clear predatory streak to them. He was athletically built, slender but muscled and hard as old wood, and his large hand stroked his holstered gun down a significantly longer arm. Sharp fangs that showed from under his lips just a bit glinted as he spoke.
"Consider your situation first. And don't presume that you're the only one with brains, Richard," the chiropteran said scathingly, his sharp-tipped ears folding back a bit. "And the name is Stygian to you."
"I'll remember that," And what your face looks like, and your name, and that you're a mage of some variety, and that you're really easy to offend and act on said offense. He thought to himself as he backed up. Wasn't worth a fight; Marya'd be asking what happened as it was, "Well then, Stygian, is this gonna start being a common event around here? Am I going to have to arm myself before I go out drinking now? That an appropriate question?"
Standing to the side somewhat as he listened to the others converse, Gareeku's eyes opened as his name was mentioned by Stygian. So it is him.
As he was talked to, the wolf removed the hood from his head anf revealed the familiar white fur and spiky black head hair. There was a difference in him, however. Visually, it was his right eye; no longer was it the same deep blue colour as his left eye. The white of the eye was now red, with the iris yellow and the pupil just like a feline's. It wasn't just that, however. There was something about him. He was different from the Gareeku that people had known. He was somewhat darker.
"How about you just shut up for a minute, instead of mouthing off." The wolf said, his voice calm and his facial expression deadly serious as he turned his gaze towards Richard. Turning back to the others, Gareeku nodded his head.
"Yes. It has been a while." the wolf replied in the same calm voice. "I haven't been that bad since we left each other, aside from the...changes..."
The bat's dark eyes turned against and eyed Gareeku, seriously and carefully in a way that was characteristic to him and almost him alone. He was that sort, the kind that saw through the dark and obscure, and rooted out the workings behind; the kind that had been trained to instinctively value and calculate, and to see what made things tick. And while his gaze was clear and his face steady, his thoughts were racing. He could feel that darkness about the wolf clearly, and it intrigued and worried and also gladdened him in a way, though the last was just a byproduct of his feelings, really. It reminded him of that of his own, too.
He was going to find out if it was something dangerous or useful, he immediately decided.
"I hope to hear all about it. Later. For now, I think that we need to go elsewhere. That was not a threat, but a quick and easy attack. That means there will be more, once the ones behind it realize we're not dead," Stygian said. He slowly turned and picked up his gun, spinning it a lap and a half as he slid it into his left holster. "Split up, or all together? I know which I prefer," he then said, and started walking out toward the street, heading to get his motorcycle. On the way he quickly glanced the other wolf in the party, who was getting up. "But I would still advise that you keep in company to..."
People started gathering. The scene began to attract a crowd. And here, in Haszal, there was a sizable police force, which had serious training and equipment. The sound was much to faint for a normal being to hear, but Stygian could pick up sirens from somewhere. And whatever rogue enforcers attracted to the scene might be even more dangerous.
"We should get out of here, quickly." He said that very seriously, and looked back toward the others while walking backwards. "Mask yourselves and don't bother stopping."
Aisha had to roll her eyes at the way in which the undead one behaved, humorously believing that patience was a virtue that he might have left behind in life. Stygian's threatening display of transformation seemed to be the perfect way to silence the sort, but as always the sight of it only unnerved the panthress, down to the way her tail ring took on a briefly intense glow.
Looking back at Gareeku, her expression turned to one of concerned interest at his slightly new appearance (the familiar-appearing eye sending a light shudder up her spine upon seeing it) and darker countenance. Thinking back to before, the wolf indeed had left his comrades with little to go on but worry and guesses on what would happen...and where. She wasn't at all surprised after thinking about it...one thing about Gareeku hadn't changed, and that was the mysteriousness. She replied with her familiar smirk. "Changes or not, old friend, I for one am glad to see you're in one piece." Despite the fact you may have to tell us a few things later, she added to herself.
Aisha got up suddenly however, upon hearing a crowd gathering, followed by a few sirens in the distance. She watched the bat leave without trying to stop him. Though the huntress would have gladly liked to try for the Stygian's head, the prospect of fighting him wasn't one to be looked forward to. Nor was this truely the time, for nobody was prepared for anything, much less what had happened in the bar. Everyone who had been there was a target, innocent or not. All they were prepared for it seemed was running. Hrm. Enemies or friends, for now we're on the same side. Let's just watch out.
"Dammit," she cursed and pulled the cowl back over her head, muttering a spell into the gold-colored collar that kept the cape around her neck. The camouflage enchantment it gave the fabric shifted from red to instant shadowy black, darker even than her own fur. "I think it wise to stick close," Aisha said quickly to the others and nodded back towards Stygian with a "no-problem" expression, then started looking for a way out of the alley, keeping an eye on the directions the others chose to go as well.
She'd be close enough to be of help if needed. But the felid's direction wouldn't be all that easy to discern with her level of stealth.
Cog stood up quite slowly, one hand dusting his coat off while the other helped to raise him off the ground. He removed his hat and tried to brush some of the white detritus from the explosion off it, and scowled to find it sticking quite well to the felt. He placed it back on his head before adjusting his glasses, and making a shallow bow to the wolf that had saved him.
"Thanks." he said, a bit of a frog in his throat. He coughed, clearing his throat. "Usually ignoring the barfight works for me. Nicely done." His tone conveyed a bit of chagrin. In honesty, he'd fallen asleep in his cups. It had been a long day. He suspected it was about to get much longer.
At the wolf- no, at the bat's insistence, he pulled his hat somewhat over his face, the brim obscuring what features it could. The panthress had changed her rather vibrantly red cloak into a shadowed black – a good idea, as the red made her practically impossible to miss. It occurred to him that needing to hide meant more bombers were on the way. And, of course, it was likely Cog too was now a target, simply by association. He again scowled, turning from the scarred wolf to the bat.
"Maybe you should just have paid the mage a bit more, eh..." he said, his hand resting across the hilt of his blade. His voice grew quiet as the bat talked to the undead one, and his face blanched somewhat.
Stygian. He didn't want to say the name was legendary - infamous might be better. In addition to the rather sinister and dark reputation attached to it, there were at least four very dark spells he could recall offhand that were named after him. He was indeed famous, among certain circles.
If he was nervous, here was becoming an increasingly bad place to be. He dipped his hat yet lower, took a bow, and started to walk in the opposite direction of the destroyed tavern.
"Nice to meet you, gentlemen. Pleasure was all mine." he said, his walk picking up. He placed a hand on his hat to keep it from blowing away, and didn't look back.
Richard growled slightly at the dismissal of his questions; he wasn't involved in this crap, all he'd done was be there! This guy was acting as though these enemies of his were after everyone, or at least those who he'd met before. Which they very well might. I survived, and I saw the guy's face. Would that be enough for them to be after me?
"Don't gotta tell me twice," Richard snarled to the bat's advise of vanishing, already turning to leave. His coat had been lost in the flaming bar, but if he kept his head down he could take advantage of the fact that nobody really wanted to look at him too closely. He walked quickly, working out an intentionally convoluted path home. In case this is one of those times where discretion is the better part of paranoia...
The bat did not remark on Cog's statement, nor Richard's anger, but paced away and out into the adjacent street, heading up toward where he had put his motorcycle. No one seemed to have made an attempt at stealing it at least.
As he passed into the street though, he noticed the man standing on the corner down on the other side of it, by the waterfront. A hard-faced and unsurprised man, dressed in clothes quite similar to those that the alligator had been wearing. The feline man looked his way, and then dissappeared around the corner. And Stygian sighed. Another one was on the roof across the street too. He could tell, despite the girl's attempt at hunching down and keeping only her eyes over the edge. So, no one would be allowed to leave unimpeded then.
The black and silver shape of his motorcycle came into view. An overpowered piece, it sat low on fat tyres, with huge brake discs, a pair of near dead-straight nozzles under the seat for exhausts and a huge engine, set between a large supercharger and intercooler. It looked naked, hard, and brutally and functionalistically sleek. Just the way he liked.
He snapped the lock on the rear wheel open and put it back in position, then saddled up and looked behind him, down at the alley and the place that had formerly been a bar. Now, a small crowd was out on the street in front of it, and a strange-looking police vehicle was making its way along the riverside road against it. The other sirens had to be fire engines. More importantly, now people were starting to move in to see who was the cause of the crime. A guardsman, and several people that looked the sort who would just 'apprehend' anyone caught on the scene and bring them in just for the chance it might be someone involved. Any town that had adventurers had that sort.
Stygian turned the ignition, and smiled contently as the engine roared out a bit, then settling into a low and deep mechanical purr. He kicked the stand away and set down his foot, waiting for the others to get out of the alley.
Originally Keaton didn't care much for the outburst between Richard, the primate Undead, and the anonymous wolf they had encountered until aforementioned lupine began to transform, his canine features twisting and warping into those of a familiar chitopteran's. Ears shortened and refined themselves into tiny points, rust-hued fur started to turn an ashen, blackened soot color as branching cracks spread over his muscles, and within a heartbeat, the moment Keaton's eyes blinked incredulously, in place of the wolf was a bat she knew in the past.
Stygian.
'Damn,' was all Keaton thought unabashedly at his metamorphosis, eyes wide.
Of all the times and places to run into so many of her old companions--first Aisha, then Gareeku, who was concealed beneath his cape and cowl, and now Stygian--utterly confounded her, yet she couldn't help but feel slightly pleased at inadvertantly discovering her former friends. Certainly she had failed at locating her only surviving sibling and mother, but being reunited with the only people she could really consider 'friends' came as a pleasant surprise, all violent circumstances set aside.
"Hello, Stygian," Keaton said playfully, gloved hands set on her hips and a broad smirk on her elongated, cream-hued muzzle. "Long time no see. Now what kind of fine mess have you gotten us into this time?"
He didn't have time to answer. Around them, quite a crowd had congregated, drawn to them thanks to the fiery blaze raging in the smoldering tavern behind the adventurers. Hard to believe she had almost forgotten about the pandemonium that had occurred beforehand, especially with the brilliant orange glow cast against them and the unbearable heat radiating from the immense flames lapping at the smokey air. When Stygian insisted that they leave, Keaton was more than happy to comply, her heavy, combat boot-clad heels padding along the stone-encrusted earth.
He led them to an impressive-looking motorcycle stationed nearby, which he quickly mounted. Keaton whistled at the sight of the contraption--she had an inexplicable appreciation for such modes of transportation. Keaton craned her head over her shoulder. Quite a good deal more people had joined the crowd clustered around the tavern, including some law-enforcers and the telltale, resonating sirens of incoming vehicles.
Time for them to get the hell out of there.
"'Scuse me," Keaton said with feigned courtesy, climbing onto the motorcycle. She briefly glanced around for some trace of any helmets or anything, but not locating any, she shuffled uncomfortably in her seat behind Stygian and encircled her arms around his waist, not having found anything to serve as a seatbelt. She had never been on a motorcycle, fascination or not.
Somehow she got the feeling she would regret this, but she didn't have much of a choice.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
She had listened to the enchanges with care. There were times to speak, and times to listen. She noted the physical changes Stygian and Greeku made, and doubted they were illusions. She appeared vaguely unimpressed, however. When Richard turned to go she turned to leave with him as well. Outside there were more than enough shadows to work with, and she whispered a spell that covered his form in black shadows that solidified into a close approximation of the coat he'd lost in the fire. She gave a little smile and nod to him as she walked besides him, out of the way of the bike and the bystanders.
"An interesting night. I have to wonder where it will lead." She said as she pulled the illusionary hood further over her eyes. "I think I'll crash with you for a while." She said a second later as she thought about it. "After all you're much more familiar with this place, while I just got off the boat." Of course asking his permission or if it were okay never once entered her mind. She was, after all, a demon.
((OOC: how can you know about the changes? Your character has never met Gareeku before.))
Saying nothing, Gareeku recovered his head with the hood of the cloak, before beginning to head off to the end of the alleyway, intending to use the shadows to conceal his movements.
"I will follow you, Stygian." the wolf stated. "And like the others, I would like an explanation once we get to a safe location."
Richard raised an eyebrow at Somber's mention of staying with him; that could be an issue for reasons other than the obvious.
"Somber, I hate to break it to ya, but you killed a guy with your bare hands back there. Unless you can convince me that there is one hell of a compelling reason for things to go otherwise, I am not letting you into my house," Although, if this is as deep as I think, it'll be good to have someone around who can do that whole killing thing fairly well... Gah, there's gotta be some sort of purina brand short, violent chick chow that just happens to smell like me. That's the only explination, "Didn't you find yourself an inn or a hotel or something to stay at when you first got to town?" Obviously not, but she was throwing around a good amount of cash. Mebbe I can advise her to someplace.
Stygian simply let the motorcycle roll down the gentle slope of the street, over close to the alley entrance, and then stopped. He turned his gaze toward the others, making sure to ignore anyone watching them promptly.
"Let's all move fast. We're being watched, and we'll need to shake attention," he said. He looked over the members of the party, and muttered, fingering something in his pocket. He knew all too well that it would not work, if they were all he had to go on. But...
His gaze stopped at Richard, and he eyed the ape intensely.
"You. Can you drive a car?" he said. Slowly he slipped out his hand out of his pocket, the clink of keys audible, and his eyes averted over against the low, black and mechanical-looking ride that the thugs had arrived in. The idiots had expected to leave alive, so it was most likely not jury-rigged.
Richard stopped, almost at the end of the alleyway, and looked back.
"Yeah," The baboon replied hesitantly, not wanting to really stick around. All these people on foot, a vehicle could attract attention. Then again, so could just waltzing out of the scene of a fire. He reached out for the keys, "Which vehicle?"
"See many around?" the bat sneered at Richard, and then revved his motorcycle. With a yelp from the jackal behind him and a jump out of the way from the baboon, he skidded the thing around, a little streak of black and smoke coming off the back tyre. He patted his pocket, fingering a coin-like object through the cloth.
"The Dragon's Grin. It's a large inn at the south part of town. See you there!" he laughed, and then let up the clutch, burning rubber as the motorcycle roared away as if fired from a gun.
"Right folks, you heard the creepy bastard!" Richard called out as he got into the drivers seat and unlocked the other doors, "In ya get, you lot!" He revved the engine as the others got in, feeling the powerful machine waking up. So far tonight he'd gotten a free drink, spoke with a rather polite lunatic, fled from a burning bar, pissed off a mage, and was now about to drive to an unfamiliar location in a impressive-looking vehicle at what would most likely be breakneck speed. Yeah, Marya's gonna kick my ass.
Aisha had wandered a little out of the alley, keeping to the sides of walls where the light of the flaming building behind them cast shadows, out of sight where some of the others may have been a bit more conspicuous. However she stuck close enough to be counted as one of the party, listening in to the plans as Stygian found his motorcycle, Keaton not far behind.
Her head tilted though at the idea of everyone simply riding to the appointed destination. "Dragon's Grin..." she repeated quietly to herself, keeping the name in mind as the bat sped away like the flames of hell licked at the machine's heels. Her eyes then narrowed at the vehicle that Richard started up, her feet kept fleet as she walked, eyes scanning just in case they were about to be spotted. The panthress was confident enough in her skill to perhaps have gotten away from the scene and toward the inn herself without attracting attention.
But then again, it was getting harder to leave the alley with a crowd gathering swiftly around the burning remains. And who was more suspicious than someone dressed in black...let alone carrying weapons?
"Hrmph..." she snorted. The panthress didn't much take to the use of such machinery, but in this case, it was better than being near-vulnerable in the open were she to be caught, and in an unfamiliar city. Aisha was stealthy...but not stupid. "No need to be ordered," she muttered.
She slunk into one of the back seats of the car on the baboon's suggestion, hoping there was room for everyone else, including her remaining comrade.
Cursing and dodging to the side as the Motorcycle roared past him, Cog quickly whipped his head around to see what bastard he'd need to flip the bird to as he drove away. His surprise at seeing the infamous Stygian driving such a incredible piece of technology was only trumped at the bat's cackling as he drove off, and his shouted instructions towards the rest of his party. Cog turned to look at how exactly the other's intended to get to the said tavern, and his eyes widened as he saw the undead guy start up a rather imposing-looking black cadillac-esque vehicle. He hadn't really taken him for a g-man...perhaps he merely had strange taste. The others were pouring into the vehicle, and judging by both the crowd gathering, and by the sirens he'd heard caterwauling and getting closer for some time, running away on foot might be foolish. Taking a desperate look back towards the open road behind him, he grimaced and made a somewhat torn looking face, and ran towards the black car.
The black-clad panthress beat him to a seat, but he slid in right after her, removing his sword from his belt even as he scooted down to make more room for others. Sitting down in cars with swords was generally difficult. He instead laid the weapon across his lap and extended a hand towards the panthress.
"Cogidubnus Mithlome. I don't think I caught your name." he said pleasantly.
The motorcycle really was going fast. And Stygian was no slow driver. The huge engine thundered underneath him and Keaton, the pipes behind the jackal roaring out a rasping, whirring song. The compressor hissed and the cylinders smattered and rumbled, while the bat whipped the thing between turns and drove so hard that Keaton had to hold around him desperately just to stay on sometimes. Buildings and the occasional vehicle snapped by quickly, as they made a beeline almost straight through the city.
Then, as they took a shortcut through a park, jumping down some stairs, Stygian snapped out a cell phone and turned low beneath a bridge, going slow for just a minute as he dialed up a number. He put the phone to his ear and revved the engine down into a low grumble, which was easy, considering that the machine had so much excess power to go on.
"Come on... Say you've kept it..." he muttered.
Back at where the others were still getting into the car, a figure got up and to the back of the roof she was standing on, before jumping down and then getting out a cell of her own, just tapping two buttons to dial. The thing rang up, but no voice greeted her on the other side.
"They're still alive. Two passengers. We'll tail them. Dragon's grin," she said, quickly. Then, she closed the thing and put it back in her pocket, and walked away.
The young snow leopard was just returning to her table with a large stack of books when she got a dirty look from the librarian. Only when she bent over to set the books down did she realize the music she was hearing was coming from her bag. It had been a while since anyone had called her on the little phone. She had tried to convince Grandmother that the phones were valuable tools but hadn't gotten very far. Grabbing the bag the apparent feline ducked into an empty alcove. She found the noisemaker at the bottom and flipped it open. "Hello. Mel here."
As the panthress situated herself in the seat, awaiting the others, she was thankful that she wouldn't take up too much room. The car looked to seat five, but in this kind of rush more could easily fit. Her own sword she held upright in front of her, the tip of the ornate sheath digging into the floor of the car.
Turning after hearing the unfamiliar wolf come in after her, the huntress put on a polite smile of her own and took his hand to shake it. "Name's Aisha, nice to meet you. These are some wierd conditions to meet under though," she laughed, glancing outside again into the chaos and narrowing her eyes. She wondered if the vehicle would move just as fast as the motorcycle had done, or faster. The longer they lingered, the more unnerving the situation was becoming.
She had picked up. That was really fortunate. If there ever was someone with a sense for assembling information...
"Hey! Mel! It's me, remember? Ignatz!" he said, the engine rumbling and rasping in the background and the wind distorting his voice a bit. "Listen, I just got ambushed in a bar, and both Keaton, Aisha and Gareeku were there. I figure there's something damn weird going on. I was hoping I'd get some help," he said, almost without interruption. This wasn't really the time to talk. "Listen, I know you're in town. Go figure. If you can, then meet us at the tavern 'The Dragon's Grin' as soon as you can. We'll be there tonight, I hope." With that, he hung up. A bit rude, yes, but then he wasn't the man or in the position for much else.
He put the phone back in his pocket, and then revved up and switched gears, accelerating away.
It didn't take long before the bat and the jackal reached the Dragon's Grin. The place was more of a hotel than an inn, really, built out by the water and near the shoreline out to sea, overlooking it and some steep cliffs beneath, before the beach down beneath them. The large main building was accompanied by two lower ones to the sides, all of them built in red hardwood with solid stone foundations and dark green-tiled roofs, in an asian-esque building style. Stygian swung the motorcycle around and slowed down easily, driving up the road and parking it by a tall lightpost in dark green iron, the ornate lamp set on it casting a dim orange glow over the tiled path up to the entrance. He killed the engine, and then planted his foot, leaning the machine on the post.
"Right. Now, the others should be here soon. Care to get a drink before?" he said, getting right to the point with the Jackal before she got off so he could step down too.
By the time the motorcycle had decelerated to a stop before the Dragon's Grin, Keaton was feeling the worst she had physically in several weeks. Having spent most of the ride clinging to Stygian and yelping (well, shouting sounded a lot less embarassing) whenever they hit so much as a bump or swerved too erratically around a curve, it was probably understandable. For someone who could kill without batting an eye and adored stealing souls, Keaton certainly was rather squeamish when it came to fast transportation.
When they had stopped it was like a blessing to her.
"Ugh," Keaton muttered, clutching at her head with the palm of her hand and shaking the dizziness out of her brain. "Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap..."
Well that was a lot less pleasant than she thought it'd be. Then again, considering the haste at which they had to depart and the circumstances behind their exit, she hadn't exactly been expecting a honeymoon cruise. Once the final vestiges of nausea had fled her body, Keaton focused on smoothing her hair down, her headwings disappearing within her scalp.
Stygian's words arose her from her vain ritual. "A drink?" Keaton asked, finally succeeding in taming her windblown mess of dirty blonde hair.
Satisfied with the state of her hair, she glanced over to Stygian, then at the rather large tavern she had suddenly grown aware of. It was a rather impressive establishment in Keaton's personal opinion, especially for a place hosting a profession which was often considered rather unscrupulous and unceremonious. After a moment of admiring the architecture, Keaton craned her upper body back to Stygian.
"Oh god, definitely. I need a beer like nothing else," she remarked.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Mel shook her head at the now silent phone. Of course it was Ignatz and his bowl-you-over personality, blasting her with information then hanging up before she could say yes, no, or maybe. Very similar to the last time she had gotten tangled up with him. And much of the rest of the same crowd was involved as well. She looked at the pile of dry histories on the table and with a laugh tossed the phone back to the bottom of her bag. History could wait on current events. Pausing long enough to grab her long grey suede coat from the chair and tuck her papers into her bag she plotted a route to the Dragon's Grin that would take her past some good spots for hearing about ambushes in bars.
Watching the motorcycle roar off, the hooded wolf decided that prehaps joining the others in the car was a better idea than setting off by foot. With that in mind, Gareeku walked back to the car and got inside, sitting next to the other wolf. Closing the door behind him, the wolf said nothing, the hood of his cloak still covering his face as he waited for the journey to the meeting place to commence.
The ivory lapine also moved quietly into the seat, taking shotgun. Leaning back in the car, she folded her hands behind her head. "Ah using the property of your slain foes. Does it get any better?" She asked to no one in particular, and then thought and smiled a bit wider, "Well I suppose when you take their soul and bind it into their property so you can rub their noses in their failure for a few more centuries. There's always that too." And from the contented smile, it was obvious she wasn't joking.
"So... I'm doing this more out of bored curiousity and an interest in helping Richard." She turned, folding her arms on the seat rest as she looked back at the wolf and panther. "What about you two? You know that guy? Friends? Debt? Or are you just curious too?" She asked as she rested her chin on her arms.
Watching the remainder of the party climb into the car, Aisha too pulled the door shut on her side, trying not to bump into the wolves that were with her in the process. It might not have been too tight a fit, but nonetheless she much preferred space...hopefully the car wouldn't be occupied for long. And by the looks of things outside, they had to start moving. Fast.
Resting her chin impatiently on the pommel of her blade, the panther quirked an incredulous eyebrow at the lapine's comment. Well, if one didn't believe she was a demon before, they would now. Nevertheless, she tolerantly answered her inquiry. "Curiosity is one aspect," Aisha said, her grip tightening at the base of the sword's sheath and cross-guard. "Also because he's not exactly a friend." Might even be an understatement, she added in her mind, looking towards Gareeku, who still insisted on wearing his cowl.
Deciding to steer away from the subject, she then looked up at the undead behind the wheel while feeling around for a seatbelt. "You sure you can get this thing the hell out of here fast enough?"
Richard's skeletal grin broadened slightly. Fast enough? Before the last door had even slammed closed he thrust one foot down, the growl of the engine changing to a resounding roar. Alright, last second head count. Creepy Short Chick, check, Angry Swordsman, check, Funny-Looking Swordsman, check, Huntress, check. Righto then. Now, how did the line from that one movie go...? Richard leaned back in his seat, hunched his shoulders slightly, adjusted his hands on the wheel. Then he turned back to smile at Aisha.
"Hang on to yer butts kids, cos' you goin' for a ride."
With that, before he even turned back to look forward again, he put the vehicle into drive and brought the gas petal almost down to the floor. The car shot off and was already dodging (a word that was entirely applicable to the situation) traffic on the road as he lazily settled back into the chair. Off to the Dragon's Grin...
Surprisingly, the car ride went without much incident. Whether if this was because traffic seemed scarce that night or whether if their pursuers had let up, was not so easy to tell. The adventurers all got the feeling that trouble was still tight on their heels, and the slow passing of the dark night and the city lights outside the car windows did little to soothe the feeling.
The Dragon's grin was not so hard to find. The car happened to have a roadmap in the glove compartment, and while Haszal was a big city, and cars and such were still a bit uncommon even for such a place, directions were good enough that it didn't take more than three quarters of an hour to actually get to the place. And it was located a bit outside town, after all. The car turned up on a slim two-lane road, lined with dark trees on both sides that loomed over it, jaggedly cutting into the sky and the near-full moon as they whispered by, and the dark machine softly and smoothly crackled its way forward for a while before the large tavern villa came up on them and they turned into the open space meant for parking. Over by one of the streetlights, they could see Stygian's motorcycle chained fast.
The lights were on, but the villa seemed still and silent. If there were really people living there, they were probably elsewhere or in bed.
Cog looked at the rabbit strangely and scratched the back of his neck, raising an eyebrow. "Well, you see, I was drinking at this bar when it exploded. In an effort to keep from being killed, I'm running away with the targets." He said. He quirked a smile. "You can see I really thought this through.
As the car sped away, he lurched forward and slammed back into the seat, earning the driver a grimace. He leant back into the seat, trying to get some stability. "In all honesty, I'm here because it's likely we are all associated with the good Stygian now. I'd like some answers before I start sleeping with an eye open again."
As they arrived, he marveled at the incredible villa on which the guessed the tavern was located, and waited for Aisha or the other to leave the car. It might be rude to crawl over them.
"Sleeping with eyes open implies that you left your enemies alive and that you fear them. Besides, it's childsplay to blind those eyes whether they're open or not, and this way you don't get dried out eyes." She said to the wolf as the drove, her ears folded back as she smiled at the wolf. "If you do magic though, there's far more effective spells, charms, and wardings if you are worried. Even some technological gadetry. But sleeping with eyes open really isn't as helpful as most people think."
She slipped out of the car as they arrived, the diminutive lapine stretching up on her toes as she lifted her arms overhead. Her cloak snapped as if in a brisk wind as she stretched her wings as well before she relaxed, looking back at the others before she started up the hill towards the villa's entrance.
When Richard had said the trip would be quite a ride, there was certainly no doubt of that. Even with her seatbelt fastened, Aisha wasn't quite prepared for the rush as the vehicle powered away from the remains of the bar and the crowd, quickly disappearing behind them. She was thrown back into the seat with a loud grunt, claws digging into the fabric as her stomach lurched a little. Nobody ever said I had to discover motion sickness as an adventurer... her mind grumbled.
But nonetheless, the speed was welcomed and she became used to it, occupying herself by staring out of the window at the passing scenery. There was still much unease in the feeling the night possessed, and she only hoped that the pursuers had managed to stop harassing them for the time being. As they came upon the Dragon's Grin, Aisha wondered if it would even be safe to sleep within the city.
The panthress pushed the door open, the loud snap of her seatbelt following, as she looked up at the villa. "Iiiimpressive." As she stepped out, just as a cautionary measure to discourage anyone who might still be watching, the color of her cape shifted again with a muttered command, quickly from a pitch-black to a slightly dark blue when seen in the light...and she only hoped that her comrades were to be as safe. She stayed alongside them, approaching the entrance to the Dragon's Grin.
At the rabbit's statement, Cog grinned toothily. "Alive? No. But alas, where one falls, two always take his place. Enemies always have friends, even the rude ones. What's more..." he said, following Aisha out of the car. "It's a turn of phrase. And wards and fences just mean the strong ones find you asleep."
He lifted himself out of the car, and taking only a moment to slide his sword back into his belt he began to walk towards the entrance of the Dragon's Grin. He was suitably impressed with the architecture - Stygian obviously had taste. He just hoped that the group wouldn't need a reservation to get inside.
Thankfully, he didn't see any bouncers or the like standing outside, so he merely ascended the steps to the entrance and walked inside, keeping his eyes and ears open.
Inside, not surprisingly, was a short hallway with coat hangers and benches and such, mostly just for fancy, which led into a large reception, as elegant and classy and yet rustique as the rest of the building. And at the back of that one, there was another room with a view out over the beach and sea. The room, with its counter and the tables around, was obviously the restaurant and bar of the place, and with the receptionist out in the back and the open space in between it was easy to hear Stygian's voice, cheerful and laughing, coming from within.
"...and so the guy just looks at me and says; 'That's one Hell of a nurse allright!'" he said, then laughed out loud. "Oh, man... Hehehe... He screamed pretty badly afterwards, but he was an amusing fellow to the end." He stopped there, and the silent pause that followed was clear to read for them all. "Come on in! We've been waiting," he then called.
The bat was sitting by the bar with a drink in hand, next to Keaton who seemed no worse with a dark pint in a heavy glass. They both seemed settled in nicely enough, though perhaps Stygian's jokes might have been more fit for the lapine in the company, rather than the jackal. He looked up sideways at the adventurers strolling in, and then turned around a bit on his stool.
"Safe trip? Don't worry. We shouldn't stay here too long either. One bar is good enough for one evening."
"...and so the guy just looks at me and says; 'That's one hell of a nurse alright!'"
Snickers pealed forth from behind a concealing, gloved hand, at first barricaded by the owner's own, stubborn will to refuse to let herself laugh, but soon bursting out when she gave in to the humorous whims of her being. Soon Keaton found herself outright laughing, as hard as she tried to fight it, but whether or not it was a product of the tipsiness that came with her slight intoxication or just a good-natured moment was lost on her.
In order to smother her uncontrollable chuckling, Keaton cut herself off with a slightly muffled sniff, then, tipping her head back, she guzzled down the remainder of her beverage. She didn't immediately acknowledge or realize the arrival of Richard, Somber, Cogidubnus, Aisha, and Gareeku; being a bit too preoccupied with finishing off her drink combined with controlling her drunken laughter, but once she registered the presence of the others she tried to clean up her act somewhat.
"Ehehehe..." Keaton snickered, setting down the glass on the countertop and turning around to face the group, looking somewhat bedraggled, but otherwise in good spirits. "Gotta love it."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Richard parked in front of the Dragon's Grin with a satisfied sigh; back at the bar he'd been full of booze and adrenaline; the drive had helped him clear his head a little. He liked the look of the bar; classy, but didn't give the impression of snobbery. He stayed toward the back of the group and gave Stygian a polite nod as he entered, taking the place in. Fancy stuff...
Pulling her cowl back as she entered the inn with the others, Aisha couldn't help but let her eyes wander over the design of the interior. Classy seemed to be the word for it, though not too rich...certainly more so than the bar they had been in before. She could only hope that the slight feeling of relief about the place was to last for a while.
Her eyes widened coming into the bar and restaurant, settling upon the windows which offered a view of the sea. Something about that vista was comforting, especially if one could catch the angle where the moon's light reflected in a straight line of silver-white over the waves. The panthress had only laid eyes on the sea a few times in her life. To stay somewhere that she could appreciate it was an experience...if it wasn't dampened by the thought of being hunted.
Aisha had heard Stygian's voice coming in, and finally set her eyes on the bar where he and Keaton sat. She rolled her eyes and took a seat of her own, looking at the bat and jackal with a bit of incredulism. "I hardly think this is the best time to get drunk, muchachos," she said, half-joking. Looking at the others, she sighed, letting her gaze drop to her feet.
It was only a short while after the group got themselves settled in that a snow leopard walked through the doors to the bar. Older than the leopard in the library and dressed in a dark suit and red heels she looked like someone arriving for a business meeting. But it was the rather mismatched set of adventurers she headed for. Mel smiled at the group, or at least those she knew. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Upon Aisha's words, Stygian made a snort and looked into his drink with a slight bemused smile. He stirred the amber liquid, and the half-melted ice in the glass made soft clinks against it.
"It doesn't really matter at all. For more than a few reasons..." he murred, and then slipped the last of it down. Quickly but silently, he set the glass down with his left, and then smiled at the entrees with slightly gleaming eyes, looking them over. "So. This is it then? All of us?" he asked. Suddenly, he tilted his head a bit to the side. "No, wait..."
A pallid white and black leopard strode in through the doors to the tavern, and immediately a small grin spread across the bat's features, displaying his prominent fangs. He got up from his seat and stood, eyeing her with that same almost sinister grin, the pupils of his eyes glowing in the shadows beneath his brow.
"Nice to see you!" he almost hummed, and stepped slowly forward with his arms out. "It's been too long." She was in disguise, of course, but so was he and that had been the way before too. And while they had both learned a thing or two about each other, they knew each other by person more than by face.
Cog raised an eyebrow at the Cubi and took a seat. "I've got one about a nun, a yogi, and a baseball player, but I think you might need to catch your breath. Really, I wouldn't think the Stygian would be quite that humorous."
He leaned back in his chair and inclined his head at the bat, who was now engaged in embracing a lynx who had just entered. "Or one fond of hugs, for that matter..."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a few various pieces of silver, hanging on from his neck and one from his wrist, and seeming to waver in the air for a moment before coming back into focus. He muttered something about explosions and waited for the bat to start explaining why exactly they were all there.
Mel returned Ignatz's hug. "It has been far too long," she replied, and for once it wasn't business chatter, she really meant it. She stepped away and looked over the rest of the group. She nodded a pleasant greeting to Aisha, Keaton, and a hooded figure that seemed to be Gareeku. She looked over the other three before turning back to the bat. "You're right, this is beyond coincidence."
'Ignatz' turned a bit and went back to the counter, sitting down and drinking again. He hummed and thought a bit before he took word, as what had to be said needed careful consideration.
"Absolutely right, Mel. That's the easy part of it. Now, we're going to have to figure out just what motivated all of this. I think it's safe to share with you that I've seen that man before. He's called Illat Morris. Now, whether that's a taken name or not is a bit harder, but I know that he's a bounty hunter and that he's just out of prison," he said. He wouldn't go into the man's exploits or such since that would have been a whole lot of irrelevant chatter. "And I know that his sentence there was severely cut short, for some reason. The thugs with him were probably just that. Now..."
Sebastian padded his pocket and then pushed out a cigar etui, taking a slim one out. Right then the bartender, a hyena, came out and noticed him. She harrumphed loudly and pointed to a sign that read 'No smoking!' and with a grumble the bat put the things back in order.
"Right... So. What have we? With the exception for our unfortunates here, we all have a history. But you three..." he said, looking to Somber, then Richard and then Cogidubnus, "are new to us though. We don't know what's up, really."
"Well that's quite the story of my life, lately," she replied as she sat down, smoothing out her crushed velvet dress. "It seems like everywhere I go there's simply more unanswered questions." Her ebony eyes looked curiously between them. "It seems like you fellows are the crux of his attentions. At least he seemed far more focused on you than the rest of us."
Her eyes looked appricatively at the two felines. It was just a hair short of oogling, but then she looked at the bat with a sharper gaze. "If he was released from prison recently then there's a chain of events to track. Either he was let go from a pardon or was allowed to escape out the front door. If we find where the chain originated from, we might be able to determine who instigated these events."
She smirked as she looked away. "Or we can just spread as much info that you're staying here and try to catch him when he arrives. I can give his soul a good interogation if he gets killed in the process." She then stretched her arms overhead. "Oooooorrrrrrr.... we can go looking for him. I'm sure adventurers like yourselves have experiance beating the underbelly for information."
Richard shrugged, "I just went in the direction everyone was running in," he sighed and took a seat next to Somber, "How much trouble are we in here, exactly? This Illat guy got a reputation?" The baboon gestured to get the barkeep's attention, "I've got a few connections I can tap, if he does. News gets around, and anyone in his line of work has probably dispatched a few people who were hoping to catch him unawares," He grinned slightly, "And lucky me, I know what bars those late enemies would be drinking at now."
Following the others into the building, Gareeku stayed silent like he had done in the car ride there, his eyes scanning the room and its inhabitants. Turning his head, the hooded wolf saw a feline approach. Deciding that he was probably attracting more attention because of the fact he had his hood up, Gareeku removed the hood from his head, revealing his spiky black hair and that demonic looking eye. Standing there with his arms folded, the wolf listened as the others discussed the situation they now faced. Taking in what he had been told, the wof's eyes narrowed as he thought about this bounty hunter they now faced. If this Illat guy wanted some confrontation, then Gareeku would gladly give it to him.
Aisha had rolled her eyes slightly at the bat's reply to her comment and sat simply observing the rest of the party...she might have ordered a drink if she were thirsty, as her refill had been left all over the counter when the other tavern exploded. She would have had to agree with some of the others, it was an interesting gathering...essentially half of them knew each other, and the other half were strangers, and that of a strange variety. The panthress wondered if she would have even come across them in her regular travels. She almost wanted to pity the newcomers, having been caught up in what was probably intended to be hers, Gareeku's, Keaton's, and Stygian's problem.
Her head snapped up, her train of thought interrupted by the newcomer striding towards them...a certainly familiar snow leopard. Aisha's eyebrow quirked, but she gave a simple half-hearted nod back to Mel. Now it seems we're complete. Just to find out why we are all here.
Fortunately, Stygian didn't need much asking from the others to start talking about the reptilian who proved to be their common adversary. Her eyes narrowed. Another bounty hunter? Aisha leaned her back on the edge of the bar, pondering this information while smirking at the lapine's comment on adventurers. "Actually that wouldn't be a problem. If said adventurers weren't the ones targeted with such violent intent. That's the question to answer."
Indeed, Aisha couldn't figure out what she herself could have done...but maybe it was out of association. Brilliant, she sighed.
Cog narrowed his eyes at the bat. "As I said to the bunny there, I was drinking in a bar when it exploded. Considering your reputation, and the fact that we've all been seen with you, I'd like to know exactly who and what is trying to kill me now. I was rather hoping you knew was was 'up'." he said, his face twisted in distaste.
He listened to the others chime in and out quietly, idly fingering the metal cap on the handle of his sword. The sculpted metal rubbing across his thumb was a familiar feeling, and the texture got him to thinking about what the hell they were going to do now. He wasn't even from this country - he'd arrived not three weeks ago, off-ship. He had no idea where to look for such characters. Hells, if he'd known the Stygian made his home here he might have chosen another destination.
His face betrayed none of his thoughts, his face hidden under and behind his hat and glasses. To those with sharp noses, however, they might have noticed his smell was growing progressively more agitated.
Stygian did possess such a sharp nose, and he did smile while looking into his glass. However, whether it was at Cogidubnus' miscontent or the lapine's wits was hard to determine. He seemed amused enough at least.
"You possess good, solid sense, however much information you're missing, miss Somber," he murred, and emptied his glass yet again, then setting it aside and facing her. "Your first thought would have been mine too. But purposefully, getting into a prison is as hard as getting out. And I doubt they'd let us just waltz in and ask around. No, it would be better to trace the connection on the outside. Or at least, better if we all wish to stay in the game." And if people weren't going to start getting suspicious and run off, which they really couldn't have. He made the slightest smirk, and then tilted his head to the side, resting it in his hand with his elbow on the countertop. "Also, you would have to take into account that it might not have been me that he was aiming for. Or that we're all treated equally as targets." He was not about to take her amnesia completely seriously until he found out more about her. She was curious to him, however, and she could probably sense it a bit. "Just as the kitty said," he added with a bit of a look to Aisha.
The hyena looked over them all deceptively casually while at the same time peering into the refridgerator at the back of the bar, and then stood up, walking over and asking whether she could get them anything, and Stygian paused for a second to consider. They wouldn't have much time, if they were being tailed, which they were, no doubt. And how best to lose a pursuer under the circumstances?
He smirked again and fingered one of his guns gently, slipping his claws over the polished metal. The lapine would probably have some fun, at least.
Listening to the others talk, Gareeku scowled somewhat.
"Well I, for one, do not take kindly to people bursting in and setting a place alight while I am trying to enjoy a peaceful drink." the wolf muttered, a slight snarl evident as he spoke. "I have just returned from visiting a monastery after finishing a job. I would like to get to the bottom of this."
Pausing for a second, Gareeku then removed the brown hooded cloak from his shoulders, revealed the darkly coloured long sleeved gi-like outfit he wore, complete with black sandal-like footwear and stylised fingerless gloves which the sleeves of the top were tucked into, which covered his hands and forearms.
"In my personal opinion, as powerful as that man seemed to be, I wouldn't have thought bursting in and causing a loud commotion like that would be the best of ways to retrieve a bounty, if that was what he was trying to do." the wolf continued. Gareeku had not forgotten the fact that he had a bounty on his head, and knew that some of the others also had bounties placed upon theirs, but there had to be something more to it than that.
"I don't know. He doesn't seem very much like a brain. You know, some one who thinks things up. He struck me more like a hand... a very flamable one, but still a hand. Bounty hunter. Thug. Whatever, he sounds like a guy who fetches and carries for others smarter, richer, more powerful, or all of the above. Which means that even if we find him and nail him down, the person who hired him and arranged his release can find another. It'll be a trick to rip off the hand and slowly claw up the arm to get to the brain that's behind it." She said as she gazed at her diamond sharp claws, clicking the tips together.
"So first order of business should be to find the magnitude of the problem. We can find that out if we question the warden of the prison and find out what got him released. If he had something on the warden, then at least we know the magnitude isn't bigger than him. If some one else got him sprung then we know it's a bigger game." She closed her eyes. "Of course there's also the possibility that all this is an elaborate distraction from something else. That is, that we're supposed to focus on him and not on a more subtle threat."
Then she looked at Stygian and smirked, "So if this is all a very elaborate ploy to manipulate us into doing some plot you're hatching, I have to commend you on its intricacy."
The bat laughed. Through his teeth, yes, but it was still a laugh. He gazed at the lapine musingly, two pairs of dark eyes, black and blue, meeting head on.
"You flatter me, sweets," Stygian said, and then almost purred. "Really. I'm just here on business, like you. But if I did try and use you, I would hardly have shown my face. Because you'd be too much use to deal with immediately, and you'd spread the knowledge. But thanks."
He hadn't shown his real face, of course. And his business was still unknown. But he wasn't lying at all. Now, he wasn't actively choosing his words, just going on instinct as he mostly was. He really meant to flatter her back too as well.
"Allright then. It sounds as if we have a plan. Now, we should get moving again soon. We will have to figure out a way to shake the attention later," he said, suddenly seriously, to change the topic. "That is, unless you people have objections?"
Aisha listened to Somber's comments and Stygian's reply to them, as well as those of the others. She glanced between the newcomers each in turn and wondered how it would have been that it was any sort of coincidence, how they were all there trying to hide in the same place.
The panthress politely waved the hyena off as she asked them if they wanted anything, correctly assuming that the party wouldn't have been there for much longer. Aisha wondered if there would be any time to stick around in the city if they were being chased. She took a minute to regard Gareeku curiously as he spoke. To have run into him again after a long time couldn't have been any sort of coincidence. The same went for the others she knew. I would still like to ask him about what's happened...
Listening to the plan, Aisha nodded as Stygian asked the group their opinion on moving soon. She stood up from her barstool and set a hand on her weapon belt. "Whatever keeps our heads intact, and gets us to the heart of the matter, is just fine with me," she answered. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the bat, however, echoing the demon's question of his plot. The huntress wasn't one to forget her grudges.
Richard simply nodded, mildly peeved that he had to forgo the alcohol that the hyena offered. Admittedly, he couldn't actually get drunk in the traditional sense of the term, but it still worked as a placebo. Nothing wrong with the plan, so long as you try not to consider the details that happen next that haven't been worked out yet...
"Wellllll..." She stood as she started pacing, her tail twitching left and right. "I suppose the simplest thing to do is to find a prison guard and ask, preferablly in a bar or some other off duty venue. If they don't know, we can either break into the prison to question the warden directly, or catch him at home. Actually that might be even more efficient, especially if he has a family he actually cares about. If he's actually involved then he might be able to tell us where leatherback can be found."
Then she rolled her head to look at Mel over her shoulder. "By the by... I make it a personal mission to know the names of all people who have asses as esquisite as yourself and Aisha. So tell me, possessor of the prime posterior... who are you?"
Suddenly, sitting where he was, Stygian began humming a bit on some tune in major scale, murmuring a bit of lyrics to go with it too. It seemed a bit of a mocking song, somehow.
"...other things are more important; like how to use your tongue..." he murred, then chuckled, and cast a glance in between Mel and Somber as his humming dimmed off. Talk about being direct. The lapine wasn't unintelligent, but she clearly needed to develop a sense of subtlety, or at least a bit of technique. And Stygian had never smelt the scent of another woman on Mel, leopard or not. Hopefully, she was just groping in the dark and not going to get burned. A ticked-off demon would be pretty nasty, if she happened to be older than she seemed. But as long as she used shadows, he at least needed not be afraid.
Calmly, he looked away, and waited for Mel's reply. Maybe just a little burn would be fun. Or, if he knew her right, it would more probably be frostbite. Meanwhile, he pondered what Somber had just said; she had made another point too. If they could get out of there fast enough, that might work. But he was more set on luring them out. That way, he would have the option to get away in the confusion, if it all just happened to be a trap.
Mel gave the demon a look that said not interested to discourage any such thoughts. "I believe the last time I was with this particular group I was Ameline Donovan and my form was a feline angel. Since I've arrived here in Haszalim I've been Melisande White and a being. Just use Mel, it's close enough."
She turned back to Ignatz, he was the one who had called her. "I'll need ten quiet, uninterrupted minutes to see what I can pull up on Illat Morris. Do we have that long before the mop-up team gets here or shall I just wait until the nice fresh memories arrive?"
Looking at Stygian and Mel for a few seconds as they spoke, the wolf's eyes narrowed slightly before turning away again. He had not forgotten when they had kidnapped him, and were to sell him off, denying him the chance to save his family. Sure they had got him out of his predicament afterwards, and Gareeku would normally have forgiven them somewhat at this point, but the wolf was not the same since two years ago. He had changed. Glancing at Somber, the wolf watched her mannerisms towards Aisha and Mel and turned away again.
I wouldn't have thought that this would be the time to be oogling at people... Gareeku thought to himself, standing there with his arms folded.
If it was a burn, she seemed to not mind the heat. She grinned in reply to her look. "Mel. Such a simple name for so lushous a person. And a shape shifter too. Well that seems to be par for course with this lot. But you also seem to have informational assets to boot. I really don't know which is more arousing. Ha!" She laughed as she stretched her arms overhead, feeling her spine pop before she looked back at Aisha. "Oh don't feel discouraged. While she has a backside fit to make one weep, she lacks the subtle solidarity of your fur, and the bouncy firmness of your breasts. They really are quite lovely." She stood as she looked at Keaton, "Of course there are the more ineffable charms that other women offer that simply can't be overlooked."
She then turned away and walked to the window. Maybe it was just her reflection in the glass, but some how that smile didn't seem quite so arch, nor those eyes as sharp. Some times it was just too much. She'd been honest in her comments, but hardly truthful. Especially to herself. Mislead. Misdirect. Misrepresent. If you're one thing, present another. If you present another, then show the self as false. It wasn't a game. It was a way of life. A way of dealing with the world.
The panthress sat down again, wondering just how fast everyone needed to be out of the room if the insane bounty hunter's cavalry did arrive, and instead tried to settle down and listen to ideas. But despite wishing to stay serious about the whole matter that the group now faced, Aisha couldn't help but quirk an incredulous eyebrow at the lapine. There's a direct one, she thought, her conclusion not much different from those of the others.
Mel's reply she thought was scathing, but the panther's own face was frozen as she was addressed, emotionless, as she had always been trained to be when more often in the midst of someone's attempt at intimidation. Whence she could reply, her hand gripped the sheath of her dragonblade for emphasis. "Save your words, demon," she said calmly. "We may all be in the same boat, but one should know all the same that my trust isn't gained by flattery."
The panthress grinned. "Besides. I'm as straight as the edge of my sword, and proven to be twice as sharp."
Stygian stopped humming, but didn't so much as flinch as beside that. His face just settled into jaded seriousness as he looked elsewhere for a second, and then back up at Mel. That she would have to aim for the panthress too, despite what she should have seen back at the bar... He had seen women as outspoken before, but never in such words. He wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be of the Namaeah clan, or some other more hedonistic ones. He just hoped she wouldn't turn out to be too asmodian in her desires. Of course, it was probably a front, but every good lie held a grain of truth, and in her case it sounded like it might be enough to make a timeglass.
"I think we have sufficient time," he sighed back to Mel, ceasing the stream of thoughts of crazed demons running through his head. "If the cavalry does decide to show up, you can count on us to hold them off. At least for a time. If all they're going to throw around is fire magic, we're perfectly fine, methinks." Those words caught the attention of the bartender, who slowly came up and over to them, and gave them all a not wholly unfriendly look, but one that meant serious business.
"If you're going to cause trouble you're gonna have to leave, or at least go outside. We're mostly warded, but only the staff is permitted to perform magic here," she said, placing a hand on her hip and giving them her best piercing eyes, especially Stygian. She looked strong for a girl, and those eyes were sharp, hinting at danger. The bat smiled at her, in a gentle way, not a condescending, as he made sure.
"Of course. But it won't go that far. We'll make sure. Trust me." If he was trying to use his looks then his charm didn't seem to work particularly well against her, because she only frowned the slightest and then looked them all over again, before she turned and pushed the door behind her open and went into the back. Stygian sighed and closed his eyes for a bit, and then muttered something.
"Right. Let's go out then. Better to be safe than sorry..." he said, which was true. And if it looked like the hyena was bossing him, then she could go screw herself and so could anyone else who thought so.
When Somber complimented Mel, Richard snickered. When she continued in that vein with Aisha, however, he outright cracked up.
"Sounds like a plan," the zombie cackled, nodding in Stygian's direction, "Besides, methinks some of us have spent enough time in bars for tonight. Any more of this and I'll be carrying my jaw home in my pocket."
Keaton listened to everyone's conversation and scheming without any significant contributions, silently ordering one last beer for herself and carefully sipping it as she listened in. Intoxicated or not, she still had her heightened senses to fall back on. At first things seemed normal enough; people demanded to know as to why their drinks back in the now-ruined bar had been so violently interrupted. Honestly, Keaton wanted information as well, although she was placated somewhat by the alcohol she was currently guzzling.
That was when a snow leopard entered the room, clad in conservative, but classy apparel. Keaton was half-tempted to tell her something rather sarcastic when she finally recognized this snow leopard--and so did Stygian, who rose to his feet and hugged her ('What the FUCK?' Keaton thought) in an uncharacteristically welcoming gesture. Unfortunately, Keaton was less thrilled to see the snow leopard. Keaton was never one to forget a grudge, and she had quite a grudge to hold against Mel.
To stifle a derisive grunt, Keaton gulped down a mouthful of her beer, noticing that she was nearly finished with her booze.
When Somber's attentions happened to flicker over towards her, Keaton couldn't help but smirk a little. She wasn't a homophobic sort, being bisexual herself. And she rather found Aisha's irritability amusing. Greatly so, as a matter of fact. She had lost a great deal of self control thanks to the alcohol she had previously consumed, so she couldn't help but release a small snicker from behind her gloved hand. "Ehehe..."
Finally, Keaton swerved around in her stool and climbed off of it after gulping down the final drop of beer, tail giving a perfunctory flick behind her. She adjusted her belt a little so it hiked further up her waist along with her pants, which were slit up the sides and held with crisscrossing bands of leather, then looked to the rest of the group.
What a wonderful little team they made, she thought sardonically.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Mel nodded. "I'd better hurry then." She moved to a quiet table at the back of the bar. She sat and took a moment to prepare herself to search the information hoard. The sheer amount of information made it feel rather like drowning. With a deep breath she reached out and magically connected to the hoard. Anyone looking towards her would only see a slightly sleepy looking woman nursing a drink at a quiet table.
Stygian got up from his seat, and walked mellow-faced out through the open space and into the hall, pulling his coat on and walking out. Well outside, he settled on the steps that led up to the entrance and pulled out that slim cigar that he had been denied inside, lighting it off a silvery lighter. Snapping it shut, he took a long pull and breathed out a stream of bluish smoke, solemnly scanning the dark woods that lay out before the villa.
Inside, after a short wait, Cogidubnus muttered something and then settled in the hallway. They were going to need a guard there as well, and he was much too clever to go out into a wide open space with only a blade against foes that most probably had much longer range capabilities. True, his sword was far from the only trick he had, but honestly he would rather wait for the right time. And it was not certain that they would have to fight yet.
- -
The gravel crackled under Illat's feet somewhat louder than it did under the figure that walked beside him, heading through the dark up against the structure far behind the trees. The heavy reptile idly scratched his chin with his clawed hands under a gloomy expression, keeping his eyes level and his gaze straight ahead. Though they could not hear them, both were aware of other figures running swiftly between the trees on either side of them, they too headed for the villa. They had arrived together, after all, and all had the same task.
"You just stay in line and do your thing, Edge. And keep out of my way. I won't hesitate," he said, and the other man, a black-furred feline with sharply contrasting blue eyes and blond hair, didn't need to see his expression or ask anything to take him seriously. He'd seen what the reptile did to the bar back in town.
Quickly, they were coming up on the Dragon's Grin. And once there, things would hopefully go quickly too.
Mel was barely aware of her surroundings, swimming as she was in information. With long practice she pulled the threads until Illat Morris's came to the front. She traced the trail of his most recent prison term. The crime and conviction seemed quite normal but then there began a stream of appeals, each more unbelievable than the last. And each and every one, including the final pardon and prison release were signed by Judge Astrid Raethe. Mel decided to go a bit further afield and see what she could connect to that name.
The dusky feline grinned, white fangs gleaming in the moonlight as the two moved towards their marks.
"It's a good thing I had this suit warded, then. It would be a shame to ruin such fine material in friendly fire."
The jaguar adjusted his jacket, well-tailored to showcase his muscular, athletic physique. He was black on black from head to toe save for a band of gold adorning the tip of his tail, three gold earrings in his left ear, and the locks of stylishly cut golden hair that fluttered in the wind but somehow never flew out of place. The silk-bound hilt of a sword sheathed in black lacquered wood peeked out over his right shoulder.
"Just leave enough to identify for the bounties this time."
The gator harrumphed loudly and cast a distraught glance into the trees. He didn't know why that damn demon had hired all these people, let alone
three 'big-game' bounty hunters, to go after these people. If he couldn't bloody well blow them up with
one bomb, he'd just have to try one more, and go after them one after another in the ensuing mayhem. And this 'Edge' guy didn't really seem his type either. Truth to tell, he thought the man a wimp. A sissy.
Be that as it may, they had a job to do. And the pay, five percent of which they had
all received up front, was promising.
It seemed even more so, and just as suspicious, to Kennith, as he jogged between tall trees together with a host of other mostly black-clad figures, each carrying a gun or other long-range weapon. All bounty hunters or ex-soldiers, they had been hired quickly and suddenly with the promise of a great deal of risk, for a great deal of money, and then immediately been sent out with fairly simple orders. It was what most bounty hunters called a 'Meat Job', because that's essentially all it was about. No thoughts, no specifics; all that was needed was meat to 'meat' the targets. And if the job proved too hard, then you were, mostly, dead meat. Some called it 'Scram' instead, because you hasted together and if you failed to perform, that's what you had better do afterward. But a job was a job, and seeing how other jobs had barely existed in these parts before this one for someone as he, it was either to take it or leave it. The down payment would buy him a ticket out of town and a good few days of lodging and food if it turned out bad.
The mansion came within sight up front through the trees. Lit dimly by some few lanterns, it was three large buildings of thick, hard wood, stone and tiles, with curved slanted roofs and red walls that looked mostly silent and calm. But the lights were on, and the bike and car they had been told about were there. There was no mistake. They were inside.
- -
Stygian breathed deeply on his cigar, sitting in the chilly wind on the steps with his coat billowing a bit, not bothering to close it, just waiting. But he didn't look up when he caught the first hint of movement in the darkness; he merely twitched his ears and took the half-smoked stump out from between his fangs, and then stubbed it out between two fingers. Rubbing them together, he kept his face down as his mind raced, trying as hard as he could to make out all the figures headed for the mansion with his senses. There seemed to be quite a lot of them.
Out loud he thought, focusing his mind in a practiced way to overcome the natural obscuration of his darkness and make it 'ring out', hoping that Mel was not too busy inside to hear him;
We've got company.
After listening to the others talk some more, Gareeku had decided to go out, standing out near the front door with his arms folded as he looked out into the night. He didn't feel like sleeping at that time, which was suprising considering the amount of travelling the wolf had done in recent times.
To the side of him a few metres away was Stygian smkoing a cigar. Gareeku stayed silent as he continued to look out into the night, starting to mull over the night's events in his head. Yes they had seen off the bounty hunter before, but who was to say that he would not find out where they were currently staying? If that was the case, then they would just have to see it through.
Looking towards the darkness with a more focussed expression, the wolf wasn't sure of it, but he thought he had sensed something. Was it just his imagination? Gareeku wasn't about to take any chances. With one hand on his sword, gripping the hilt, the wolf listened for any sign of another presence...
We've got company. When the signal came that the mop-up team had arrived Mel reluctantly let go of the information she was tracing. She hadn't had time to find much on the judge. It would have to wait. She returned her focus back to the room. Most of the group was still at the bar. "They're here," she informed them as she stood and retraced her steps to the front of the building. As she walked through the empty reception area the neat business suit changed to a long grey suede coat and high grey boots and her white fur darkened to match. She met up with the wolf swordsman whom she hadn't yet been introduced to in the hall. "What are they up to?"
Aisha rolled her eyes, mostly due to the fact that some of the strangers in the bar were more amused than anything right now, and she moved away from them. True, the panthress never minded working in a group, but there was still the fact that she didn't have to like it. Especially if nobody was going to be serious.
She stood back for a while and considered ordering a drink from the bar, though there was the possibility that the group was going to have to move soon. She watched Stygian as he walked out, Mel go into a far corner of the bar, and Cogi walk out into the hall. Her eyes narrowed as they glanced out the windows briefly. The tension, she knew, was rising into the air with every second. Aisha believed that Gareeku too must have felt it, watching him leave after a moment as well.
The panther considered following, remembering whom she was stuck with in the bar. Her head shook. Guess you can't blame some for wanting to be light-hearted after THAT. But still, being in hiding with us puts them too on the death list. Her mind was still trying to reap the reason that they all seemed to be targeted. And just shrugged it off, for they would get the answer anyway if Illat came again.
Nobody could take two steps however before Mel came forward, addressing them. Aisha's ears pricked. "Here? Already?" She growled slightly. If they work faster than this, nobody's getting ANY sleep. The panthress nodded to Mel and also made for the exit, waving everyone along. As she walked, she changed the color of her cape back to pitch-black. It was always best to be in the shadows.
And plus if there was going to be a skirmish, Aisha was going to make sure to be one of the first to make a hit. Not take it.
Richard stopped laughing at the mention of people being here. From the direction the conversation had been going in a minute ago, they probably didn't mean the pizza boy. He stood up and followed a good distance behind Aisha, so that if they were ambushed they would have their hands full with the better fighter who got there first. He was unarmed save for a handful of spells and his attributes as a zombie. Most of which revolved around it not being quite so bad if he lost an arm. Greaaaaat...
Cogidubnus looked up as Mel strode into the hall, followed by Aisha and Richard. The panthress and the undead ape didn't stop, however the now somehow gray feline did, and as his manners were Cog rose to his feet when he was adressed. He made a leg and swept his hat, smiling at her and handling his sword to the side fluently.
"Cogidubnus Mithlome, miss White," he said, smiling, "whether that be your true name or not. A pleasure to meet you." He did not take her hand, as it was not the time and she did not seem the type, even though she was pretty and. But she was still the bat's friend, or so it had seemed, and that probably meant that he should keep on his toes around her. She didn't smell unpleasantly or sound it, but she seemed... chilly, somehow. "And I do not think that I can answer that question. You had better confer with the bat outside."
With those words he put his hat back on and moved up, opening the door and admitting them out.
- -
There were at least twenty of them in there. That was bad. Heavy, smothered steps, metal clinks and no creaks, and rough breaths. That meant soldiers. Bounty hunters wouldn't make a maneuver like that, nor would they hurry in that way. Now, he had no thought of getting caught up in a pincer maneuver, and mere soldiers could do little against him, but if he stayed he'd get caught up nonetheless. And to counter getting flanked or trapped, one headed for the quickest single way out. It was bad that he couldn't tell if they'd thinned and set a trap to one side though. Or whether if they had brought some surprises with them.
Slowly, Stygian stood up and straightened his coat. His right ear swiveled back against the door when it opened, but he didn't turn his head. He just kept his eyes forward as they began to cover with black veins, his irises glowing dimly.
"Take whatever side you wish. They're not waiting for us. Though I suggest you give each other just enough space and no more..." he said lowly back to them over his shoulder, still looking forward, and then moved down the steps, starting to walk to one side. The breeze from the sea made his coat flutter a bit, and he flexed his fingers in between the wrappings. He probably wouldn't need to use his guns, but still...
The dark jaguar smirked. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know what the gator thought of him. Not that it mattered--indeed, that attitude played rather nicely into his plans. The feline stopped in his tracks as the light from the inn became visible through the trees. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and cocked his head as if listening for something.
"Alright, big guy, they're on their way out. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to be out of the blast radius."
He leaped towards the trunk of a large tree, coiled up, and pushed off, propelling himself upwards into the branches. Vaulting over a heavy bough, he disappeared into the foliage... with not even a rustle of leaves to betray his presence.
+ + +
A black-suited wolf weaved through the trees, jogging behind the motley company of hired meat. An old scar crossed his left cheek, and he wore a most serious expression. The tension in the air was thick enough to taste. When the mansion came into view, he took cover behind one of the larger trees. He held his weapon at ready--an ornate crossbow of dark wood and brushed metal gilded with arcane silver runes--and waited for the rest of the crew to get into position. He kissed the silver band on his ring finger for good luck.
He kept the enemies in his sights while they exited the building. A barely audible twang and a whoosh of air were all the warning they received as the first bolt flew towards its target.
Richard had been keeping toward the back of the group, hoping to not have to wade into this unarmed. Naturally, the crossbow bolt lodged itself halfway through his shoulder. Yanking the projectile out and snarling something to the effect of "alright, who's the smartass?", he channeled a quick ice spell through the bolt and hurled it back where it apparantly came from, the spell propelling the bolt far more than a throw would normally allow as well as flash freezing whatever was unfortunate enough to be within 10 feet of whatever it hit.
Apparrently, no one was in the mood to answer the baboon's request, for the next moment the smatter of gunfire came from the woods, muzzle flashes lighting up the trees, and a salvo of heavy bullets smacked into the wood next to him. He was far from the only one they aimed for though; bolts whistled through the air between bursts of gunfire, as shapes ran up and took cover next to the trees and behind bushes. A few ran up on the left side, where the other set of stairs up on the balcony surrounding the villa were located, intending to shoot down it against the adventurers. And what was worse, a few bursts of magic and a crackling sensation signified that someone, or most probably more than one on the mercenaries' side had begun throwing magic around. Shards of ice and balls of what looked like glowing mist streaked through the air against the mansion. It all seemed mostly like suppression fire though - they were trying to push the group back and away so that they could be more easily cornered.
Stygian didn't wait to respond from the clear ground in front of the villa. Suddenly loping in his steps, he was at the edge of the trees in three long jumps, before the armed men could arrive there, and quickly leapt up between branches to get behind the line of their attackers. They would have excellent cover from those trees, but it was dark and between them, they wouldn't be able to see him before it was too late. Smirking, he hopped over to another branch, landing on his hands and not even planting his feet before swinging over, gently falling to the ground and planting his feet with only a small thud. The man he had landed behind jerked around, but before he could do anything there was a wet crunch, and he fell without having gotten his heavy knife well into his palm yet, his head twisted round in a decidedly unhealthy way.
The bat breathed out, eased his arms and shoulders, and then turned, stalking out his next victim already under the trees.
A spattering sound rapped in Cogidubnus' ear, and he instantly threw himself to the side and tumbled over, grabbing his sword and moving it so that he could immediately and unhinderedly get on his feet and leap up. He ran for the end of the balcony, knowing full well that the only way to get out of being encircled as they were was to hit hard and press out on one side. Bolts zipped past him and another salvo threatened to take his arm. Luckily, the wolf was a whole lot quicker in his moves up close than nearly all opponents expected. With a swing and using his sword for a counterweight, he turned and spun, drawing the blade up and slipping past the bullets by a hand's breadth, sparks flying up from the ones deflected off the gleaming metal. There was a rasp as he drew the blade from its scabbard, and then somersaulted down off the balcony, taking cover behind the stone foundation and between buildings as quickly as he could.
As Aisha stepped out into the supposedly calm evening air, she had kept back for a moment between the door and the porch, then sidestepped to a corner of the inn while keeping her ears and eyes as well-adjusted as they could be in the dark of night. Stygian's instructions were heard clearly enough, but Aisha was paying attention to the trees and the unseen.
She only hoped that she had blended in well enough to be one of those unseen. A shift of light, a quiet step...and she was in her practice. Absolute silence.
Her ears swiveled, counting any misteps that were made by the hunters, whomever they were, and her eyes widened. Just how many of them ARE there? She started to sidestep back around to the porch, gauging the positions of her comrades, though that wouldn't be easy if she had to watch the enemy too. Perhaps if she could find a way to the roof...
That was when she caught something that would have otherwise escaped the ears of the untrained. Aisha's head swerved around to see a bolt having lodged itself into Richard's shoulder. She smirked as he sent it back in retaliation, and gripped the handle of her boomerang, back pressed firmly against the wall. This was the crossfire that would start the battle.
At the very second the other side sent a barrage of bullets, arrows, and magic, Aisha dove for cover and went up the nearest tree, the noise of her scrabbling strategically drowned out by the heavy, loud sounds of fire. Her friends, she hoped, weren't too scattered out.
"Ah!" she growled quietly and gripped a branch, nearly missing an arrow aimed downward to her head. She had chosen an occupied tree. Before the hunter could shout as to the position of one of their targets, however, the edge of her boomerang was against his throat.
"Silence," she hissed lowly, and made a quick motion of her wrist.
By the time anyone heard the thump of a bloodied body falling to the ground, Aisha was skirting between the building and the edge of the woods, narrowly avoiding the rapid firing everywhere at the others and perhaps at herself, a glare hidden under her dark cowl as she chose another spot.
If they don't know there's a fellow bounty hunter on the list, they'll know soon. I hope this spot is high enough. See how THEY like being sneaked up on. And how long I can keep this up.
Her boomerang was still hovering in the air, a short distance away so that she had control, but still a good enough distance that they might have a bit of trouble finding the true source. A motion of her hand and a mutter of the incantation placed on her trusted weapon, and it flew from that spot--as if it had been thrown from there--towards another target. If the ones on the balcony could be picked off...
From the moment that the soldiers' attack started, Gareeku was off. He moved with intense speed, unsheathing his katana as he ran, holding the blade in one hand while summoning up energy in the other. As he did so, his demonic-looking eye glowed a deep crimson, and as the soul energy in his palm came into view, one could see that, instead of the normal white colour that the energy displayed, it was now tinted with a light shade of red.
Before the first soldier knew what was happening, the wolf was upon him. The last thing the soldier would see would be a flash of steel, before the blade found it's target, severing the soldier's head from his body as his headless form slumped to the floor in a pool of blood, Gareeku's face showing no emotion as he carried out this brutal manoveur.
Not stopping there, the wolf turned towards another soldier that was nearby. Before he coul raise his gun, Gareeku's sword came down on him, severing one of his arm beofre slashing his neck in the blink of an eye. Not looking back, the wolf was off again, leaving the dying soldier gurgling as he laid in a pool of his own blood.
(Sorry for the long delay.)
The lapine's snowy ears had turned towards the door, picking up the dozen of minute sounds of movement. Consequently the first bursts of gunfire made her wince. "I hate guns..." she said through her fangs. "I hate their noise. I hate their lack of finesse. I hate how they make the air taste." She picked up a heavy wooden chair with one hand. "Most of all, I hate when some one shoots them at me!" She yelled as she swung the chair hard at a window. She siezed the shadows in the room, snuffing every source of light she could as she calmly walked leapt out and to the side.
She wasn't one for direct attacks. Instead she moved into the darkness beneath the trees, her keen hearing picking out the being's ragged and overexcited breaths. They would be their last as the ivory furred demon tore them out. Of course she didn't let them die slow. After all, that's what eviceration was invented for... to scare beings into primal terror. And there's nothing better than to find your companions danging from trees like holiday garland, now is there?
One by one she moved along the flank of their line. She predicted the real challenge would be found closer to the center. So for now, she was a shadow filled with the noises of wet tearing sounds and dripping silence.
Mel cursed and ducked, she hated bullets. Off the steps and into the flowers beside them, shifting size and shape again so that it was a little grey housecat slinking through the spring buds and still-skeletal bushes. Then the spells started, this was her kind of fight. Someone wanted to play with ice, her own element. A quick spell stopped her opponent's ice in midair, turning it to join her own fusillade of frigid daggers tearing apart the concealing foliage. The misty comets were a little harder to turn since she didn't have time to figure out what they were, but quickly enough many were flying back towards their origin. Now it was her turn. Ice, fine like sugar, thick and driven towards the intruders on a heavy wind. A sandstorm only colder. It would lose some of it's strength going through the wooded area but it was still blinding and had the advantage of sticking to anything warm in a miserable cold layer. At the center of the scouring storm Mel moved, shifting once again to pale snow leopard form, hunting for the other magic user.
"They're here."
From where she stood, Keaton froze altogether in the middle of a languid stretch, her head snapping in the direction of where the voice had come from. Mel. "What?" the jackal asked, steadying herself against a chair. "You have to be kidding me. They're here NOW?"
Apparently so. Chocolatey eyes narrowed slightly from over the frames of mismatched glasses, shifting attentively toward the forest located somewhere beyond the window. Green leaves encrusted the tangled branches of the towering tree trunks--perhaps suitable for housing and concealing harmless avians or other animals, but they would make adequate camouflage as well. Keaton knew that from experience.
Unconsciously closing her hand around the marble nestled in her back pocket, she glared through the misty glass of the window, then darted after the group after Stygian. Cold air rushed into the yellow-black face of the jackal as she bounded over the stairs, loping after the group with her hand over the handle of her mace. Not as fast as she would've preferred, as the inebriation hindered her senses, but she was still tolerant to consuming such a great amount of alcohol. Then she felt it: the presences of several others, dappled behind the foliage. Muffled by layers of alcohol-induced intoxication, but still there.
She realized it just as soon as an arrow flew right into Richard's shoulder. He plucked the projectile out of his flesh without so much of an expression of pain (damn Undead) and flung it back toward where it came from. It was after this happened that hell broke loose. Gunfire exploded from the trees, showering upon them in a relentless blitzkrieg. Yelping, Keaton jumped off to the side, drawing her mace from where it was strapped on her shoulder.
She took cover behind a tree, carefully slinking around in search of the nearest assassin. Quickly she found one of them: a young deer, his antlers barely coming in. A toothy smirk spread over Keaton's lips, outlined with ebony lipstick. Clenching her free hand, Keaton started to concentrate, feeling the shadows beneath the deer writhe and boil noiselessly. Even drunk, Keaton could still manipulate the darkness to her will. He wouldn't notice it until it was too late. Slowly, she began to bring her hand up, orchestrating the shadows to move with it until a great, thick wave was curved over him. It started to sharpen, refining itself, spawning immense, stalacitite-like teeth in its great mouth, then, just as the deer whirled around, realizing the presence of something towering over him, it pounced upon him.
There was no sound other than a smothered cry. It swallowed him up like a miasmatic maw, then dove back down, flattening back into the ground as quickly as it had devoured him. If done efficiently, it would leave no trace of his disappearance--not a drop of blood or a shred of flesh.
Gone.
Grinning ferally to herself, Keaton vaulted over the skeletal bushes, disappearing behind another tree with another dark spell circulating in her palm. This was going to be fun.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
There was a cry among the lines of the soldiers, then a rapid exchange of commands, and then they turned, beginning to bunch up and fall back against their middle, while the other end of the line swept in and turned their fire. The hyena ducked out from the porch and shouted something snarling at the adventurers, but it was hard to hear over Mel's snowstorm, which was effectively beginning to turn the trees into great popsicles or something of the likes. Still, it didn't seem to bother the mercs too much. At least, not the three groups immediately visible. Two mages were withholding the storm there, no doubt. The snow seemed to just run off and around two of the groups, as if around an invisible orb. The third one though, was protected by something that looked like a great semi-spheric shield of fire. From within, the ragged voice of Illat rang out loud, as he peered with unblinking eyes out over the clearing.
Then, he found his target. Quickly, the alligator muttered something, and then raised his palm to the sky. Magic concentrated and coalesced for a moment in a great mass, before he swept his hand out. Instantly, the ground erupted in a shower of fire and exploding earth and rock, headed straight for Mel.
Stygian turned his back as he felt the incoming snowstorm. He felt some clear grabbing at the shadows around, meaning that Keaton and that demon had gotten to work. Not that he minded much, but the feeling of someone else just tugging at them like that was always awkward. And they were using quite a lot and putting a lot of power into it. If he hadn't been too busy keeping his coat up as he moved through the damn squall, he would have shook his head. Instead, he grumbled and just pushed on, levelling his steps as he came upon the last stray merc, a large mustelid of some sort. He rounded a tree, and the man flinched for a second and brought his gun up, firing off a burst. Stygian was already out of his aim and to the side though. A swift kick smashed the man's hand asunder, and he screamed as the gun fell from his grip. Not for long though; the bat was a master at kicks, and his other foot whipped up in a perfect roundhouse arc against the man's head, crushing his neck and sending him quite a few feet back.
Leaning forward a bit to balance against the wind, Stygian then ducked behind a tree as quickly as he could. With a sour grimace, he looked around to the side, as if that would have given him a better view of Mel. Quietly, he cursed. She was good at what she did, but if she was going to throw snowstorms about just like that...
The soldiers had turned up and formed a half circle, and their fire was coming in hot now. Those not affected by the snowstorm still couldn't see their targets very well, but they didn't exactly have a hard time just firing into the melee. Some of them hesitated, of course. However, a cloaked figure flowed up behind them, and murred in a low voice.
"Don't concern yourselves. Fire." The figure nodded against the storm, and the soldiers exchanged quick looks for just a second, before they opened up.
As Keaton dropped her prey, she felt the sensation almost like hands stroking over her skin as another will touched the shadows around her. The reek of blood and bile reached her nostrils as a girl sushed quietly in her ear. Shifting her veil, Somber appeared before Keaton in her full demonic glory. Her ivory fur and form fitting armor lay beneath a chill coating of blood. Gore covered her arms all the way to her shoulders and a sanguine mask covered her features. She grinned, her eyes solid slowing red orbs as she looked up at the Jackal.
"Oooh... nice work." She said as she looked at where the darkness had consumed the deer, "You had the void devour him. Not particularly my style... but you pull it off quite nicely." She said as she looked up at the larger canine. "Looks like they've got some spellcasters of their own. Wanna join me and circle up behind them?" She asked with bloody glee.
Keaton ducked behind another tree, watching with piqued fascination as white dollops of ice cannonaded the forest and their besieged enemies. Possibly Mel's work, she determined--though she had no idea that the metamorphing dragon had any experience in the battlefield. Gripping her mace a little tighter and blowing some of the powder out of her dirty blonde tresses, she craned her body around so she could safely peer around the splintery hide of the tree she had taken shelter behind.
A strange, crawling sensation started to prickle over her skin. Keaton stopped any and all movement as the creeping feeling started to spread all over her body, eventually exacerbating as her nose caught the unmistakeable, malodorous stench of blood. Before her, the lapine Demon from before materialize in front of her, coated in thick, syrupy splatters of carmine and peppered with chunks of what appeared to be gunks of gore.
Keaton managed to hold back a yelp of surprise and slight revulsion as she noticed the blood. Not being in one of her more bloodthirsty moments, she was still aware of how sickening the substance was. "Way to sneak up on somebody," she said in a succinct whisper, but brightened somewhat when she was unexpectedly praised for her brutal act.
Absorbing her flattery, Keaton couldn't help but grin somewhat, her teeth gleaming. "Join up with you?" she repeated, then glanced off into the distance, where the spellcasters raged. After a split second of thinking, she looked back to Somber and her grin widened. "Why not? Count me in."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Mel saw the bolt of fire and earth coming towards her. She pulled the storm inwards, compressing it into a wall of ice and air laced together with pure power. Depending on the relative amounts of power each put into the opposing spells this could make quite a show so she was simultaneously jumping backwards, away from the spot that the two would come together. As she was touching down she was already moving in a different direction, pulling together her next spell. If she could get to the side quick enough she might be able to get a shot at the reptile before he knew if she survived his bolt.
A show was about the least of words that one could call the resultant impact. Traces of fire and steam sprayed out in great cascades, the two opposite spells hitting each other with great force, causing a shockwave and a boom easily visible through the mist it moved through. It hit right between Mel and the middle of the three groups, creating a thicker blockage of sight than the snowstorm had for a moment, before another wave of fire rolled through it and split it like a huge cleaver. Whatever the alligator was, he was not weak in his magic. Either that, or he had some tool of power to depend upon. An attack of that force, so quickly...
The group farthest to the side pushed forward. Not blinded by the explosion caused by the clash of magic, they moved in a small row with their spellcaster, a man of unidentifiable species as he had some sort of decorated ivory-white helmet-like mask covering his face and a long, flowing black robe, at their front, with a shield ready for them.
Then, to the side, there was a quick cry and a sound of metal on metal, before the black-coated wolf furthest out to the right from their side was promptly cut up. The next man turned, but unlike the other he didn't even have time to fire his weapon before a slashing, glinting wave tore him apart, small traces of electricity crackling after it. Blood spattered, and the man fell to the ground in two neat halves. Cogidubnus didn't even need to whip his sword clean before sheathing it, in a movement so quick that the eye couldn't keep up.
However, then came the problem of the spellcaster, who promptly turned his attention to the wolf. Magic concentrated, and Cog readied for countering his next move.
Before he could, however, something shadowy blurred just past the man. It was hard to see just what happened, even with Cog's eyes, but he thought he saw an outline, or an afterimage of some kind, and then the masked man fell, his chest pierced at several points. The three remaining men fired and struck with blades against the shadow, which just dashed between them, flowing and almost dancing in its moves. The first two had their necks quickly slashed open as it leapt past them. The third seemingly hit it with a set of bullets from his guns into the chest. But they only tore through shadow. The man didn't even have time to look before his rib cage was crushed and he flew twenty feet back, hitting a tree hard enough to break his spine.
To Cog's eyes the shadow never stopped. It hadn't dissappeared two seconds ago before he heard Stygian's voice over his shoulder.
"Nice swordplay, slowpoke. But unless you were intending to cut through that mage's magic with steel..." he said sarcastically. Then, sharply contrasting just moments ago, he calmly walked past the scowling wolf and against the rest of the battle. Cog remained silent behind him, slipping his half-drawn blade into its sheath and narrowing his eyes, and then ran along, apparrently taking more care to remain hidden than the bat.
Past them all, bullets, bolts and balls of fire zipped. The second column seemed to be moving in. And from his perch, "Edge" could quite easily see it; unless the other mages and Illat could hold, and someone could turn the battle, they wouldn't make it.
As the battle raged on, Gareeku continued to cleave through soldier after soldier, moving with intense speed and agility as the wolf's form tore through the ranks of the opposition. No emotion, no sign of remorse for his killings, was evident upon Gareeku's face as the gleaming blade of his sword cleaved through limb after limb, torso after torso. He was a killing machine; no pity, no remorse.
As he continued his killing spree, his other eye seemed to change, his facial expression gradually turning from one devoid of emotion, to a fierce, almost feral-like snarl, as the once gleaming blade of his sword, along with his clothes and fur, turned crimson with the blood of his enemies. Soon both of his eyes had completely turned a dark shade of crimson. He had embraced the darker side of his being. The fearful looks of his enemies as he brought his sword down upon them meant nothing to him, only the sound of their lifeless bodies falling to the earth satisfied him at that moment; they would pay dearly for daring to attack him...
As the arrows flew and the chaos continued, several flashes of silver caught the necks of a couple of remaining hunters before retreating back into the shadows. Sometimes she deliberately missed, luring them into shooting to another general direction, perhaps right at their own comrades. The conductor of the weapon still remained hidden, even shifting her position lest they'd spot her, until she knelt near the top bough of a tree.
Then, her ears pricked. She could hear the shouting of orders, and see most of the soldiers starting to bunch up and fall back into a few different groups, some of them even away from her. She could see why, as there was a massive amount of spell-slinging going on some distance away, though there was a blast of cold. More splashes of crimson filled the air, and she could guess who the more violent members were.
Her expression however was dark. The other side starts it. We finish it. Her eyes closed then, as if taking a silent moment, while her arm extended and the boomerang zipped back into her palm. The silver surface was also covered in blood. Dioses nos perdonen (Gods forgive).
Then, curious as to the melee going on where the spells were being thrown, the panthress took a look around before leaping onto a bough and rushing onto a part of the inn, near the balcony. The color of her cape shifted to the colors of the building as she ran around, noting the groups converging against Mel, as well as where the others were...including a blackish blur, thankfully helping the group. Then she steadied herself against a wall as the wave of spells collided, shielding her face instinctively.
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to look around the groups of enemies moving through, for Illat or anyone else leading the fray...If her side was winning, she was going to help make sure of it. She prepared her boomerang for another flight, and released the bloodied sawblade into the air, against the crowds...
Hell in a handbasket, Richard thought, vaulting over the edge of the porch and quickly vanishing into some convenient shadows near the house. He continued on like that, darting from one patch of shadowy cover to another until he was almost right on top of group of soldiers that was still dazed from Mel and Illat's display.
What happened next would probably interest whoever had created the spells that resulted in the Undead race.
For instance, the spell was meant to create an army. One made up of disposable soldiers, yes, but they would recruit as they went along after a fashion. Sheer horror of what they faced would be a fair psychological blow to the enemy, and from there it was all a matter of heightened magical skill and uncomplaining undead muscle to win the day. The only thing that went wrong was the simple fact that nobody wants stupid soldiers, and the simplest way to make them clever was keep the original souls.
This is why one of those who made the spell would marvel at the speed of rotting limbs. Would be intrigued by the use of cover that most would not be able to make use of. What one could almost call the instinctive use of shock tactics as Richard reached out of the shadows to snap the first one's neck, the efficiency of his movements as he swung one arm to smash another's face. The rather clever use of ice spells to deflect a majority of their bullets with temporary sparkling twists and spires of ice, and his disinclination to acknowledge those that got through. They may even be interested in his fighting style, punches, kicks and headbutts that were never detailed in any way, practiced before any mirror. His moves were furiously focused desperation in the form of blows.
This hypothetical note taker would bemoan his refusal to bite or gouge. He would never use his teeth, or his nails. Everything else from the arm to the arcane was fair play, but not his teeth or claws. Bloody civilians.
He slipped back into cover. Picking himself up and this time watching out for slippery spatters left on the ground, the crept toward the next group. And all he could think was You know, it would be nice if I wasn't always surrounded by wackos.
As Mel hid herself behind a tree to escape a flying ball of fire she changed her tactics. She wasn't the hero type, why was she playing at it when there were so many of them around? Stupid pride, she was forced to admit, the mages started throwing ice and she had to one-up them. A better idea was to change the game entirely if she could. Mel cast an illusion spell at the gator, as strong and persuasive as she could muster while dodging bullets and fireballs. If it was successful he should see what appeared to be the flash and whirl of a teleport then the appearance of a sandy desert all around him. Complete with hungry sand monsters nipping at his toes. He only needed to be distracted for a moment for one of the warriors to deal with him.
His crossbow reloaded within seconds, the wolf lined up another target. He obviously wasn't expecting his first bolt to be making a return trip, however. His eyes widened, and he leapt back with amazing speed. The trunk of the tree he'd been using for cover turned to ice in an instant. A layer of frost radiated outward, coating the underbrush in a layer of glassy cold, and stopped just short of the wolf. One of his fellow soldiers, a tabby-striped feline who'd been hiding behind the adjacent tree, was not so lucky.
The wolf spat out a curse, his breath condensing into wispy clouds in the suddenly frigid seaside air. It was going to be one of those fights.
+ + +
Go figure... I prepare all these defences against fire and dark magic, and everyone decides to use ice.Sorry. None of the primary targets were supposed to have that kind of ability.They have another shadow user as well. The Demon?Possibly. Her file was incomplete.We'll find out soon enough. They're coming over to play.+ + +
The wolf dodged from the cover of one tree to the next. He kept his crossbow at eye level. The enemy had broken their line and were picking off their forces from behind. Away from the main groups now, he was out of the crossfire. But he was also dangerously alone, with only the shadows to watch his back as he hunted the hunters hunting him. The distinction between predator and prey had become painfully blurred.
Quite suddenly, there was movement up before the wolf, to his side a bit. The bat was walking along, alone in between the trees in the direction of the next group of mercenaries, apparrently not having noticed the crossbowman. The fiery cascades had let up for a moment, for some reason, and he was taking slow, level strides, walking as if casually strolling down a street, though his dark, narrowed eyes glared fiercely into the darkness. And there seemed to be something wrong with him, or rather with his immediate surroundings. It was very hard to see, but the shadows shifted somewhat oddly as he passed, intensifying and moving in a way they shouldn't have been. Still, the effect was hardly as dramatic or overwhelming as anything that the lapine or the jackal had been doing.
But that was the point as well. And unlike with Keaton and Somber, Stygian neither radiated emotion nor thoughts, not magic or power of any kind. He simply walked, waiting for the next opportune moment.
And then he vanished. Passing out of view for a second, he simply dissappeared, his form swallowed up by the darkness of the forest, undramatically and without trace.
The very next moment, the wolf heard something like the middle thing between a growl and a hiss behind him, and then he was struck. Hard, in the back. Hard enough that he lifted from the ground and went sailing through the air a few metres.
Slowly, patiently, but with a glare on his face and slightly tensed and ready to spring, Stygian walked out of the dark against the wolf.
Illat's attacks had let up. The alligator knew that it was an illusion that hit him, but he had not prepared to fend off something so specific, or so strong. It was hardly impossible; he would be done with it in a matter of seconds. But during those seconds, only a part of the shield that he upheld was there to protect, and his attacks were completely halted...
Richard crept along the battlefield, keeping to where there were shadows or objects to avoid being seen. Over there was that clown from the bar again, looking confused. Whatever the woman in the illusion disguise (Mel, right? Gah, me and names...) had done had caught him off guard; a perfect chance to catch him and get some questions answered. Or at least take out some frustration on. He darted a bit closer, circling behind the gator while remaining hidden, before he lunged with a spell of his own crystalizing at his fingertips. If the first powerful blast of arctic-temperature wind he was readying didn't knock lizard boy out from either the cold or sheer force then punching him probably would. Here's hoping he didn't move the remains of that shield too fast...
The boomerang returned to Aisha's hand once again, her grip on it tightening as she touched spilled blood on the handle, and thanking the gods for having her be so lucky as to have only a few soldiers shooting at her. She looked out over the battlefield from her vantage point on the balcony and wondered just how they were all going to get away from it in the long run. Blood was staining the ground, bodies strewn in the trees, far too many to stop and bury if anyone even wanted to. All that was left on that side, as far as she could see, were just a few groups of soldiers and one spellcaster.
The panthress grimaced. Though the battle was somewhat gratifying, it was still quite a cavalry for just a small group of adventurers and some strangers. And Stygian, she reminded herself. Meeting back up with him had started the whole thing...
She watched Mel thankfully escape intact, while the others were busy getting themselves stained in crimson from head to toe...especially the demon, to Aisha's unsurprised disgust, and then there was Gareeku. Watching the wolf cleave endlessly through body after body, the panthress wondered at just when the last time was that anyone had seen him act so utterly merciless. Her eyes narrowed in thought. He HAS changed.
Aisha's lapse in observation, however, nearly cost her. At that moment, her ear swiveled and she ducked just as a thin line of fire whooshed right over her head. Her eyes widened at the sight. It seemed that there were more in this battle that they had missed...
Snarling in frustration, the huntress leaped over the balcony and landed hard on a tree branch, rushing in leaps and bounds on the boughs over to the side where she assumed everyone else was, and reaching to her belt for the handle of her sword. "Watch out! We've got a problem..." she started, but the one nearest to her position right then wasn't listening...he still seemed adamant on rushing to slice down every last enemy.
Aisha jumped down from the limb she was on, landing in front of him, only to be surprised at his change in demeanor...more than surprised, but worried. Both of his eyes were taking on a glow as red as the blood he was covered in.
"Gareeku!" she snarled. Instead of waiting for him to hear her, she drew her sword and blocked his blade with her own. "Snap out of it!"
She only hoped that he wouldn't have to be hurt to do so...things were going to get messier, fast.
Mel could see that the undead baboon was dealing with the gator. She'd have to demand introductions once they were out of here. From her hiding spot she began picking off the soldiers nearby so that the baboon would have time to finish whatever he was going to do. Intense rays of cold, carefully aimed at chests to freeze hearts and lungs. She heard Aisha's shout and felt the first bolt of lightning crackle past at the same moment. More? Was everyone in the city after them? She grabbed the lightning and hurled it back. Soldiers usually had lots of metal on them to attract electricity.
The wolf suddenly found himself airborne, careening straight over the fallen log in front of him. He flipped and twisted in midair so as to land facing his attacker. A pair of dark tracks formed in the dirt and leaves as he skidded backwards. He rose slowly, cracked his neck from side to side, and shook off the impact.
"That hurt."
But his mouth had twisted into a dark grin. The infamous Stygian stood before him. Whoever took that one down would be a rich man indeed... if he survived. He locked eyes with his quarry.
The wolf blurred into motion. Whipping his crossbow up, he fired squarely into the bat's chest. Surely his opponent couldn't dodge a bolt at this range... could he?
The frigid blast fired by the baboon hit the fiery shield with good force, though not enough to punch through it fully. Still, the force of it was enough to freeze Illat's clothes stiff and knock him over, even as he was regaining his senses. For a moment the shield wavered, as more blasts of ice and lightning careened into it, shredding it and sending sparks and steam out. And then it went away.
Slowly, Illat got to his feet, his face a thunderhead and his eyes glowing. Turning, he glared at Richard, his face twisted into a snarl and his tail whipping.
"Don't disturb me when I'm working, asshole!" he roared, while two sharp horns began taking shape out of his forehead. He raised his hand, fire wreathing around it and starting to concentrate in his palm.
- -
Apparrently, he could. Dodge that bolt, that was. For while a crossbow bolt was faster than an arrow, Stygian was what he was no matter how he looked, and seemed to have no trouble snatching it from the air, right in front of him. He didn't even look at it, just snapped it in half and dashed against the wolf.
"This will too!" From the bat's movements right then alone, one would probably have come to some conclusions about his racial belonging. He struck blurringly fast, not even bothering to feint to the sides as he knew the wolf had no time, going straight for him. An apparrent strike against the chest turned into an elbow as he switched to the side, instead aiming to knock the crossbow out of the lupine's hands, and then he spun rapidly, bringing his leg up until his foot was easily level with his head and whipped it around, aiming for the wolf's neck. All of the moves were executed with the same fluid, efficient style. Obviously, he was as agile as he was strong.
"Disturb you?" Richard replied incredulously as he readied a spell of his own, thick frigid fog oozing off of him, "Disturb you?" He swung one punch to the gator's jaw, "I'm enjoying a night off that you interrupt by blowing the bar up and you're accusing me of disturbing you?" The baboon stepped forward to get in another shot, this time to the mage's stomach, "Then again, I did get in the way while you were working. I'm so sorry I interrupted you getting your ass handed to you by a woman around half your damn size. That make it better, jackass?"
Onwards the wolf battled, slaying soldier after soldier, his once-gleaming blade now red with blood as it sliced through limb after limb, body after body. his once white fur was now as red as the blood that seeped from the lifeless corpses around his feet. His eyes burned a fierce red as Gareeku tore through his enemies.
"Gareeku!"
Less than a second after he had heard the voice, he felt his sword collide against something hard, stopping the blade from continuing its path. Standing there was Aisha, struggling to hold off his attack. "Snap out of it!"
As he heard the voice, the wolf quickly came to his senses. Instantly his eyes reverted back to their normal state, though he still possessed the demonic eye. Blinking slightly as he looked at Aisha, the wolf then suddenly whirled round, cleaving through a soldier who had decided to try and sneak up on him while Aisha was holding him off.
"Thank you." Gareeku said calmly, his back turned to the pantheress as he looked around at the corpses around him. Saying nothing more, the wolf strode off to continue the battle.
The wolf was reloading his crossbow as soon as he had fired the first bolt, but his opponent had already closed into melee. The crossbow flew off into the darkness. Wooden bolts clattered to the ground, and he stood empty handed against his assailant.
The lupine warrior blinked in disbelief. To the bat, his movements must have appeared sluggish. He barely registered any reaction as the kick hurtled towards his neck.
In an instant, everything changed. The wolf blurred into motion. Rather than evading the blow, he stepped into it. Bracing himself for the impact, he whipped up his arms to catch the leg and lock it against his body.
"My thoughts exactly." The wolf's voice seemed to float on the air.
Suddenly, arcane glyphs flared to life around them, snaking across the ground... the trees... the logs. For a moment, the two warriors stood silhouetted against the eerie eldritch glow. Then their world disappeared in a blaze of light as a massive thunderclap rocked the woods.
Aisha watched calmly as Gareeku came back to himself, lowering her sword as he did and backing up a little bit as he swerved to slice the soldier coming up behind him. The panthress hadn't much time to even reply to his thanks as he went off to continue the fight; she just watched, relieved at least that he had come to so quickly.
Another bolt landed suddenly at her feet, barely missing her by inches. Aisha snarled and tossed her boomerang up instantly in the direction it came from, soon hearing a scream and seeing a figure tumble lifelessly from the boulder he was standing on. She had been harshly reminded all day that it wasn't a time to let one's guard down. The light-magic sawblade returned to her grip and back to her weapon belt, her gaze moving briefly to the dead individual nearby. Gods, we may soon be paying for this.
Then, with her magic-proof dragonblade held up before her, she started running towards the hopefully last group bearing down upon everyone, spellcasters seemingly at the forefront. The blade sliced straight through a whizzing ball of fire aimed towards them, dispelling the thing in midair.
Passing Gareeku on the way, it was only then that she said loudly enough for him to hear, "you're welcome." Then her blood-tinged gaze narrowed dangerously at the hunters, already considered dead within it. Her cape even changed back to her usual red, signaling its intent as it was mirrored in her gleaming blade.
No more hiding.
That was... unexpected, Stygian thought. The wolf smelled, and was warm, and felt... But it was wrong. Thoughts rushed through his head so fast that he nearly didn't notice when his foot was caught. And standing off-balance as he did, it mattered not how strong he was. He couldn't get out of the wolf's grip.
Magical glyphs flared, and Stygian looked confused.
What the Hell...? That isn't ri... A great strike of thunder cleft the night, and Stygian was hurled back, his form smoking and burned. He hit a tree hard with his back and groaned, slumping down it for a moment. Where the wolf had been, there was nothing anymore.
Growling and cursing in a variety of languages, the bat got to his feet. Now, there was a bit of a change. Someone setting traps for him, and not the other way around. He brushed himself off, closing his eyes for a second and standing deceptively still, while his mind raced with the shadows, searching... and finding. He opened his eyes again, narrowing them as a smirk appeared on his face. Two could play that game...
The bat took half a step before he seemed to dissappear, in some eye-defying way, not blurring but just shifting out of sight. The next second, Edge heard a snap as a branch was slashed into behind him, and turning, he could see the bat leaping high through the air, headed straight for him with claws stretched out and his fangs glinting.
- -
Richard's punches took allright. But they didn't seem to do so much more. The alligator was hard as rock, and the baboon seemed to have missed his suddenly sprouting horns entirely. There was a moment's stillness as Illat backed, and then looked up, grinning.
Richard didn't feel the arm hitting him hard in the chest, cracking a few ribs and sending him sprawling. But it was probably safe to say that he would be noticing it.
"My ass handed to me? You've got this wrong, pal. You're the ones who're 's good as dead...!" the gator growled, and began gathering up flames again...
After companioning herself with Somber, Keaton ventured further out into the battlefield, keeping herself under the cover of darkness so to not draw attention to herself and to evade any flying bolts of magic that were zigzagging across the forest. Trees were struck with blocks of ice, people of all species fell--yet Keaton couldn't see any sign of her allies among those who had collapsed, thankfully--it was nothing short of complete chaos. Keeping her distance, Keaton slunk from shadow to shadow, making sure that nobody fell in front of her. At one point a body crumpled before her, but it did nothing more than just startle her. After the initial shock she merely stepped over the unconscious (or dead?) wolverine sprawled on the ground and advanced on the figures she saw up ahead.
Further deciphering and squinting of the eyes revealed that it was none other than Richard, the Undead baboon from before, and the hulking alligator who had decimated the bar. And better yet, as far as she could tell, he didn't seem to have any of his fire-spawning explosives with him, although something was steadily distorting his silhouette--two sharp figures were rising from his scalp, but she assumed it was a trick of the light or her eyes decieving her.
He seemed to be preoccupied with Richard, but he was about to get a very unpleasant surprise. Without any moments of hesitation, Keaton broke out into a run, her legs becoming a black-clad blur beneath her. For someone whose feet were so heavily-adorned with bulky boots, she moved swiftly and with surprising quietness, perhaps the result of years of training with cumbersome clothing selections. As she neared the alligator, however, her presence began to become more apparent, but perhaps a moment too late. Pulling back, she readied her mace, feeling energy spark from it, and swung it around toward Illat, aiming deliberately for his head.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
(sorry for the delay. been working my tail off. Have you seen it?)
Somber had kept alongside Keaton, watching her flank and letting her telepathy pick out targets. The lapine's ears continually turned like radar dishes, trying to pick out the most immediate sounds. When they finally reached Illiat she froze and grabbed her shoulder. "Oh... this is interesting." The rabbit looked at Keaton with her maroon eyes and gave an almost apologetic smile. "Styg never mentioned he was a demon... unless you can think of another horned creature with a fondness for destruction is supernatural toughness?" He could have been some saurian specific mythos, but she doubted it.
Somber actually took a second to stretch, as if she was getting ready for a sprint or athetic competition. "I'm going to need you to watch my back, Keaton. I'm not going to be able to focus on anything else but him." She hissed softly as she narrowed her eyes. "That flame shield is going to make this hard. Can you send a spell or message to richard and mel and ask them to focus on putting it out? I can't go hand to hand with it burning my claws off."
"Oh, funny!" The baboon groaned, hitting the ground. He'd noticed the horns, he just didn't care. Then again, it seemed that another approach would be needed. He'd had a similar idea to Somber's although a tad more all encompassing. With a resounding, dirge-like yell he unleashed the spell he'd prepared. Thick fog billowed outward, smothering flames and sound alike as the undead dragged himself back upright. "'You're the dead ones,' I've never heard that one before. What's with you people and cliches?" He'd already moved to the side, and called out from where he was to distract the gator from Keaton, "I mean, come the hell on! Do these lines get handed down in family lines of you idiots?"
Mel slunk from one spot of cover to the next, her attention on the new mages joining the fray. She was turning their spells and sending them back into their own advancing lines, with ice daggers thrown in as a bonus. Magic-filled thunder rolled in a shockwave across the battlefield. She looked back in it's direction, someone was playing rough. Then she went back to her own targets, one fight at a time.
Crouched high up in the trees, Edge's ears perked up at the branch cracking behind him. He spun, drawing his sword so quickly that the weapon almost leaped into his hand. Its inky black blade sizzled with menacing purple energy. He licked his lips.
His form flickered. For a second, multiple blond panthers appeared superimposed across each other in flagrant disregard for the rules of space and time. And then they scattered. Three identical copies of the feline bounty hunter sprang from the bough, bolting off in different directions with lighting speed.
The recently vacated perch came alive with mystical runes. Runes of Earth. Runes of Power. Runes of Life. Branches writhed and grew to sharp points, protruding like great wooden talons. They spread out, preparing to welcome the chiropteran into their deadly embrace.
"How nice..."
"...of you..."
"...to drop in."
The cool, refined voice rang out in three-way stereo. The trio kicked off of nearby trees and reversed course in unison. With their dark, shimmering blades poised to strike, they flew over to meet Stygian at the center of a four-way deathtrap.
Illat growled and very nearly barked a laugh at the baboon, smirking sarcastically.
"Like you've got 'nething better to go with. You're jus' too stiff, man!" the gator quipped, ignoring as his shield was downed and drawing together streams of fire.
"Humor is a boon, ya know!" He laughed, drawing his hand back.
Then, just as suddenly, his expression grew shocked, and he turned.
"What the He...?!" he exclaimed, right in time with Keaton's mace hitting him in the face. He lifted a bit, and spun through the air, before hitting the ground with a groan. Snarling, he started scrambling to his feet, a fireball already gathering in his hand and flames snaking around him as if alive. He roared out, and leapt for Keaton, his hand sweeping out and aiming for her head.
- -
In mid-air, the bat could certainly not change course easily. Yet, instead of scrambling to try and avoid the spikes, he instead just hit them, the points skewering him with ease. Too much ease.
There was a laugh. And then the bat's form turned completely black, before it practically exploded outward in a rush of spikes and lashes. It lasted only a second, but tore the branches off the tree and cleared its top, dropping it to the ground.
"Not too bad. But you're a damn fool to put yourself in the centre of the action like that before moving..." the bat's voice murred, untraceable in the dark. It echoed eerily.
Calmly, Stygian walked as his outline formed from a patch of darkness and he stepped out into the moonlight, glancing up at the shredded tree.
"Are we going to keep playing games, or do you think you could actually come out and face me?" he spoke out, to no one in particular.
"Hey, eyes on me ugly!" the baboon simply lunged forward to grab Illat's tail while he was in mid-leap, throwing him to the ground, "I know you were locked up for a long time, but wait a while. You can get your ass kicked by chicks again soon enough." He quickly backed off, creating more fog to stifle the flames and conceal himself.
She knew there was a reason she liked richard, and grinned as she dropped to all fours like a sprinter. Her claws siezed the turf as she waited for exactly the right moment. It came as richard halted his leap and Keaton's mace met his muzzle.
Somber ran at him. Or more appropriately, she nearly streaked the distance seperating them in the blink of an eye. The demonic rabbit with supernatural speed in her limbs and diamond hard claws gripping for purchase, moved with phenominal force. As Illat reached the ground she slashed his side just under his ribs. She didn't dash away, however. Why should she? She excelled at close combat, and like an auger began to tear into his tough hide with dozens of blows to the same spot. Eventually he would have to either shift his defense and expose eyes, groin, and other tender targets, or she'd carve out his liver.
The alligator roared out in pain and twisted rapidly, not matching Somber's speed but still a great deal faster than any normal being could ever have, and used his advantage of size and strength to push against her, slapping his tail around to knock her away. He bled from the side, and hunched over as he struck out, forcing Somber away as well as he could, while fire continued to flow around him through sheer rage. In a desperate counterattack, he let loose a fireball much too close for comfort, and for a moment he and the ground around them erupted into flames.
The world kept shaking and ringing for a while, before a blurry gator crawling to his feet and clenching his side came into view, his clothes shredded and gashes visible in his skin. And against all sense, another fireball forming in his hand.
"You... fucking bitches..." he coughed, glowing eyes locked on Keaton. With a rasping growl, he raised his hand and aimed. "I'll turn you all to dust!"
Richard swore under his breath as Illat's latest spell singed his legs and knocked him off of his feet. The fog wasn't working half as well as one would expect. The reptile still had access to a wide range of fire spells that were too powerful for him to stifle. Alright, another new plan would have to be formulated in the time it took to stand up.
Richard's flash-freezing spell wasn't half so effective when it wasn't bound to an object. Without something to carry it one could only send it as far as their hand could reach, and it didn't spread nearly so far without some velocity behind it. However, it was enough.
"Ashes to ashes," the undead snarled as he surged forward, hands now glowing blue and reaching for the arm readying another fireball.
Much to Keaton's delight, her attack connected brusquely with Illat's face with a hideous crunching noise, the alligator going flying before he landed in a heap on the ground. Cheering silently, Keaton started to advance on her before Somber leapt atop him, ripping and tearing with serrated claws into his side. Acting with surprising agility for such a lumbering creature, Illat whirled around, knocking Somber to the side, his body flickering with flames. One poorly-aimed fireball ignited the area around them, engulfing the terrain in fire. Still staggering from the bombardment of Somber's claws, the alligator shakily raised his arm, starting to aim a fireball at Keaton.
"Oh--shit--!" Keaton exclaimed.
Unlike some fighters, she didn't find her body freeze up against her will after realizing that Illat's attentions had shifted to her. Instead, she sprinted toward the hulking gator, weapon readied for a powerful swing towards his head. The Catastrophe could carry a great deal of strength behind its blows, especially when Keaton was angry--hell, she had even decapitated someone quite effectively with it in the past shortly before incinerating their body with a bolt of dark lightning.
It was quite obvious that was what she intended to do to Illat, hopefully prior to when he launched a fireball in her direction.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Fire! It had to be near the top of her ten most hated things! Despite Mel and Richard's attempts, clawing him was like tearing into a red hot stove... it hurt like hell! The rabbit's hands trailed smoke as her fur singed, and only the swift movement kept her from igniting all together. His tail was also making things difficult! It might have been as flexible as a tree, but he only needed to hit her onc-
And there she went like a smoking line drive. She barely had a second to grab whatever shadow-stuff she could and pile it between her an a particularly sturdy oak. She didn't have time to turn the shadows into more that spongy... stuff... and so she hit the tree with all the grace of a drunk albatross. The shadows evaporated back to normal as she landed in a heap, trying to shake off the spinning.
Woah! Hand of fire! And the nearest targets happened to be the two people she currently gave a damn about! Crap! She didn't have time to be graceful. A tough as cubi and undead were, she doubted that they could take a direct hit. Heck, she wasn't sure she could! She crouched and then launched herself into the hair in a flying jump kick, screaming something at him in demon about his mother's testicles as she prayed she made for the best target.
Mel stood in the protective shade of one of the trees iced over by her earlier attack and watched the new attackers advance, concentrating particularly on the ones slinging magic. They didn't appear to be as powerful as the gator, at least at first glance. She'd throw a little confusion into the ranks and see how they coped with magic that wasn't directly offensive. She pulled up a spell to affect the mind, induce paranoia, distrust, and make allies seem enemies. Then she aimed it, not at the magic users, but at the sharpshooter who appeared to be covering them while they worked. With a little chuckle she moved on to the next bit of cover, in his line of work he was probably already paranoid enough that the spell would push him over the edge immediately.
Illat's response was a nearly wordless roar, his eyes flaring up and his free hand striking out. There wasn't one of those moments when everything froze. Rather, everything around seemed to go much too fast. Both Somber and Keaton hit him head-on, the result of which was an off-balance impact that turned into a tumbling pile of bruises, sprainings and broken bones. The alligator did not get his last spell away, but struggled half-consciously to somehow crawl into a somewhat upright position, with Keaton and Somber on top of him. In his hand some flames still burned, but his shivering moves and his rasping breaths told all that one needed to know of his state. Still, in his beat-up state he was still strong and conscious enough to throw his attackers off him.
"Fucking... bloody... tricked me..." he sputtered, blood running out of the corners of his mouth. Roughly, jerkily, he reached inside his coat, getting up on his knees. His eyes didn't wander around; he could easily tell what was happening. Mel's spells and Aisha's and Gareeku's attacks were causing havoc among the mercenaries. Somewhere off, thunder crackled. And those two hunters who had been supposed to help out were off, probably playing around, damn them. And these prey turned hunters didn't seem likely to let a merc go, even if he would probably just run. And then, he was a demon.
"You're not getting me... cheap...!" he growled, opening his flaming palm. And slowly, he pulled out a clear glass flask from under his coat. His grin was that of a man smiling in the face of the Devil.
Three Edges hurtled towards their quarry with swords raised, prepared to deal killing blows as the bat impacted the branch. But there was nothing to strike but a great pool of exploding darkness.
Two of the triplets twisted in midair and pushed off of each other, launching themselves away from the unexpected assault. The last seemed to hang in the air above the branch. The bolts of darkness passed right through him. Moments later, he faded into nothingness.
The second plunged to the ground. As he fell, a field of rich indigo energy enveloped him. And then he was gone. No trace of him remained.
The remaining Edge cleared the blast and sailed off into the night. Coming to rest on a tree some ways away, he looked down at his shredded suit in dismay. The clothing melted and reformed a second later, once again whole and spotless. He scowled, and then he, too, vanished into the darkness.
+ + +
That was close. The guy's as crazy as you are.Thanks. I wonder why the wards I put up against dark--Hold on! Where do you think you're going?Down there, of course. You heard him calling us out.Somebody needs to add Protection from Ego +10
to his buff routine.Quiet, you.+ + +
One by one, three dark felines leapt down from the moonlit treetops. They landed around Stygian, surrounding him on all sides at a comfortable distance.
"Face you?" The one in front of Stygian shrugged, leaning casually against the debris of the fallen tree. "You're the one who just ran off..."
"Don't you like games?" The second stood with his sword resting across his shoulder in a relaxed posture. The blade no longer glowed, but neither did it reflect any moonlight. "We can play a different one, if you prefer."
"Perhaps a friendly game of chess?" The third licked his lips. "Winner gets to keep your head."
So. Three. That's how many he could do without stretching it. And they were more like an amalgamation, not pure shadow. A great deal of magic. But a dual influx, and only one source? Probably a decoy. And clothes that melted and re-formed, not to mention that sword... and while his response told nothing of his intelligence, it did reveal that he was somewhat vain...
In his usual habit, once Stygian had his foe in a somewhat manageable situation, he studied him harder than ever. And this man, whoever he was, made for an interesting subject. But then again, the bat himself was not a slow study. Intuitive aptitude and skill; that was the strength he had always relied on, long before power. And once his mind had started racing, it was only a matter of time before he had his enemy down.
In this cubi's, whose main forte seemed to be shadow magic, whose manner was dramatic and smug, whose pose indicated a favorism of the right hand and a fencing type of swordsmanship rather than a striking one, whose pauses in speech and tone and body language indicated that he was studying the bat too, or at least curious and trying to listen to or observe something, case... In his case it came down to figuring out just who was who of the three. Once he knew the trick...
"You're not asking me to play. Not your type," Stygian said leniently, drawing it out a bit more and looking at the first Edge, a fake. "Your sort likes to see tricks. Not games. My sort..." He stopped, leaning his head to the side a bit and scratching his neck with sharp claws, his blacked-out eyes half closed.
Appearance-wise, they were almost alike, but still like opposites. The bat was bigger, but not so that it showed much under his clothing. Both had blond hair to their shoulders, both an athletic build, though 'Edge' had shorter limbs in proportion, and both had the same sort of handsome features, though the bat's sharper nose and lines made a good difference there. Per contrast though, Stygian was nearly whitishly blond in fur, while 'Edge' was completely melanistic, and when comparing voices...
"My sort likes to play games, that's true. But right now I'd much rather make a deal," he murred, a gentle smirk spreading across his face.
Slowly, the bat looked up, and this time at the real 'Edge'. Was it coincidence?
"How about this... You stand down and surrender, and I'll let you live in exchange for telling us who set you all up to this. How does that sound, kitty?"
Finally the cries and sounds of battle had for the most part ceased. Watching another body fall lifeless to the ground, Gareeku surveyed the scene. A sea of corpses surrounded him. His clothes and fur were virtually completely crimson with blood, dripping from his sword and parts of his body. Turning his head, he found there to be only one left; Illat. Keaton and the others seemed to have the situation under control though. Despite this, however, the wolf turned and began to make his way to where he was.
Flask. Flask. Why a flask? What's with the flask? "Anyone ever tell you not to drink on the job, Illat?" Richard backed away from the alligator slowly, positioning himself not too far from Keaton and Somber, "Something I've never got about all this adventurer crap; why do the bad guys always get the best toys?" He muttered.
The Edge who had caught Stygian's final gaze rolled his eyes. He slid his blade back over his shoulder and into its sheath. The other two raised their swords and adopted more aggressive stances--but did not advance.
"It sounds like you're not taking me very seriously." Edge crossed his arms. "Besides, you hardly need my help to find a man who spent all day throwing money around to have you killed." He sighed. "And here I thought you'd be a bit more fun..."
Somber didn't expect him to run, and she also didn't expect him to be done just yet. Demons rarely had the psychological ability to be craven and cowardly. The strong lived and killed as they would until they were killed it turn. Some day, Somber had no doubt, something stronger would come for her and when it did she would die. A demon who died of old age was an abberation like snow in the desert.
So when he fell back wounded, she felt little elation. And when he withdrew the flask, she didn't share Richard's mockery. Whether explosive, magical, or poisonous, she had little doubt that the contents were likely deadly. "Freeze it, Richard! Freeze it now!" She shouted as she stepped back. She longed to question him alive, but that wasn't going to happen. Demons didn't surrender unless it was part of a plot.
Instead the rabbit did the most curious little... well... hop. She turned and landed all crouched before him... facing away. It seemed to be a rediculous position until her fingers tightened on the grass. Her arms were strong. They could tear flesh and bend steel, but they were nothing compared to her legs. The limbs were almost twice as long and their muscles made up half her body mass. The double footed donkey kick was like a bolt of lightning for anything she happened to use it on. That it was tipped with diamond hard claws didn't hurt either.
"On it!" the undead barked, lunging for the flask and readying another flash freeze spell. He wasn't so worried about killing the demon; after all, if Richard acted fast and bit Illat before he finished dying, interrogation was still an option.
Flash after flash of metal and cleave after cleave of bodies, Aisha's sword had gone through many of the mercenaries around them easily, Gareeku and herself the only ones that were needed to take care of them it seemed. She was thankful that for some of them their spellcasting was more for long range and they had little to use as weapons when they were suddenly up close. The panthress was charged with adrenaline and soon almost as covered in blood, darkening her melanistic fur all the more.
When all was done, it was the wolf who caused the last body to fall in the sea of death. She came out of it with enough scratches and burns that would have made a common person want to fall over on the cool ground and rest there, and for a while she was tempted to do so. By the actions of the bracer on her right arm, however, those wounds were slowly closing. She got up on her feet again and surveyed the field with little remorse shown. Briefly lowering her head in a solemn gesture, she wiped the blood from her sword clean onto her cape with one swipe through.
Aisha turned then to see where some of the others were gathered. Illat was now defending against an onslaught from two of the party, and from the way Gareeku was striding towards them, perhaps a third. She snarled upon noting his countenance...demon. Of course...
Instead of darting towards that fight, the panther leaped up the trees and onto the balcony again, placing her sword back in its sheath, more than content to watch how this was going to end, and yet ready in case any kind of backup was needed.
Knowing my comrades, I wouldn't count on it... she smirked to herself.
The demon saw both Richard and Somber coming for him, and growled, glaring defiantly at them. As quickly as he could, he slapped his burning hand to the bottle. The problem was just that Richard managed to hit it with the freezing spell at the very same time. And then came the lapine demon's attack.
Illat's head flew, perhaps a twenty, twenty-five feet. His body just shuddered. Then, it collapsed, still clenching its hand around the flask, spilling dark blood in a quickly growing puddle. The demon was downed, and the fight was at an end. Unfortunately, the battle was not.
There was a small, bright, cracking sound, and slowly a warm, orange light began to spread, as a small chink in the flask in the gator's hand began spreading...
- -
The bat scoffed, and slowly slipped out a slim cigar, as if from nowhere. He put it in the corner of his mouth, and then flipped out a silvery lighter, drawing in small puffs until he got smoke. Breathing in once on it, he slipped it down between his fingers, then crossed his arms and sighed a blue cloud before looking up at the feline with a boorish expression.
"Money isn't the issue. Neither is whether I'm taking you seriously or not. You wanted to play a game? Fine," he said, his blacked-out eyes like hot coals.
"I'll play with you." Both fake Edges were impaled, through the heart, just an eyeblink in between. Even more alarming, the shadows had started twisting like that again. And the feline felt how they began going... slippery, somehow, growing more difficult to control.
"White gets the first move!" Stygian roared, lunging at the bounty hunter with mercurial speed, one hand drawn back, sharp claws glinting and the teeth in his grin like knives. He would test this one, to see how far he could go...
Finding no more movement around her Mel started back towards the sounds she could hear, the site where she had left the undead baboon and the gator. As she crested a small rise she could look down and see the crowd standing around the gator's decapitated body. But she also saw something else, unstable magic and lots of it. And the instability was growing. It only took her an instant to decide this was not the place to be. "Run!" she shouted at the three by the body before taking her advice for herself.
Richard swore loudly at the sight of the gator's head leaving. One, because it was inconvenient, and two, because it was freaking scary. In retrospect, that was a damn stupid idea, the undead thought, fleeing at Mel's urging. He ran as fast as he could in the direction of the head. We need answers. If I can get to that damn thing within eleven seconds...
As Richard and Somber mercilessly attacked Illat, Keaton watched with silent enthusiasm, cheering the two on, only for her fervor to be extinguished once she noticed his blaze-enveloped hand ghost toward the bottle grasped in his grip. Hoisting her mace, Keaton was just about ready to attack when Richard's ice spell smashed into him simultaneous to the moment his hand rested on the flask.
Explosion. Illat went flying, his head landing a good distance away. Atramentous blood spread beneath his decapitated corpse like an inky, oozing halo. Wincing slightly, Keaton's slight grimace soon turned into an expression of satisfaction. However, she should've learned by then that nothing is as easy as it seems.
She realized it as soon as she heard the crack and saw the orange light on the urn radiate outward, threatening to explode...
"Oh JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" Keaton exclaimed, immediately shrieking in Richard and Somber's direction, "Run! We gotta run!"
Vaulting herself over the disembowled cadaver of a long-deceased ursine, Keaton scrambled as fast as she could away from the destruction area, hoping that her companions could follow at the same pace.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The two "fake" felines, if that was indeed what they were, appeared dazed and frozen for a second. Then they clutched their chests from the unexpected attack and collapsed to the ground. The remaining Edge cocked his head.
He didn't even blink when Stygian shot towards him. Indeed, he barely moved at all. Then his form flickered for an instant. One moment, he was standing with his arms crossed and his blade sheathed. The next, he was almost in front of Stygian with his sword in motion, prepared to meet claws with steel. He grinned like a kid with a new toy.
"Don't send the king to do a knight's job."
From his vantage point in the shadows, Cog watched the battle between the Stygian and this strange swordsman with varied interest. Some might have been awed by the spectacular display of power by the both of them, and perhaps have done something foolish like cry out, but Cog merely kept himself quiet and still as he leaned against the tree trunk. His black clothing and his unmoving stance left him unnoticed by the both of them, their attentions drawn to the more pressing issues of trying to kill each other.
Cog took notes on the various techniques of the both of them. The split-swordsman technique in particular interested him, as did the bat's strange ability to blink in-and-out of the shadows. As the bat lit his cigar and summarily killed two of the other felines, Cog carefully let one of his hands slide to his side.
He pushed himself forward as they charged each other, and balled his hand into a fist. After seeing the cat's skill with arcane magics and enchantments, he didn't dare risk an attack of an eldritch nature. He flinched when the feline teleported, and drew his fist back. He was running out of time, and in any case, he had grown tired of hanging back. He'd seen more than enough.
Concentrating and stilling his mind, he took careful aim at the running swordsman and threw his fist forward, a wave of force flowing out and streaking towards the cat, distorting the air and breaking tree limbs here and there as it clawed its way through the forest.
Follow? She was a rabbit. She didn't follow anyone. The curious thing was that instead of running and leaving the others to live or die, the demon instead grabbed the slowest of the three, Richard, and carried him at great haste in the same direction as Keaton.
"Please don't tell me that's a sunwell flask," she muttered as she glanced back at the light creeping from the fissure. It was pretty simple magic. Take one enchanted bottle, leave it undisturbed to fill up with sunlight for a century. Cap, and uncork whenever you wanted to blast some one with ten years worth of sunshine all at once. Of course for the truly suicidal, you could break the bottle open and let it all out at once. Some how, that seemed like a thing that would appeal to Illat.
Illat, while alive, had not been one for such patience-requiring methods as collecting sunlight for decades on end. Though he had been quite a study of alchemy. And even the most grubby and unskilled alchemist knew how to create manageable and powerful chemical compounds. The bottles and vials that he had carried were such good bombs for three apparrent reasons; firstly they were small and manageable, secondly they were safe, as the explosive compounds in them were so separated and hard to trigger by accident, and thirdly, they were powerful and cheap. A bomb that was made mostly out of hydrogen, iron, magnesium and compressed nitrogen, and some magical charge, could be made basically out of anything, and devastatingly powerful.
This bomb that had just set off though, had happened to be one of those he had created as a safeguard, and for his own wicked fun. And so, it applied mostly to the manageable and the powerful parts, and not the safe one. It was why it was in a glass flask, rather than a steel tube or the like. And while containing mostly air, it had been made using more rare and volatile chemicals than just ones that could be gleaned from basic compounds like air and dirt. Because that was something that all alchemists knew as well; how to create nuclear reactions in even the most basic elements by feeding energy into the atoms and setting up chain reactions. And nuclear reactions are much, much more powerful than chemical ones.
The blast that hit the adventurers in the back after they had run for what seemed a damn long time, though not nearly enough, threw trees, rocks and bodies around as if they weighed nothing, and left a smoldering crater that cut into the road up to the tavern, sixty feet wide and quite deep, and smoothed down. It had been a hot explosion. Keaton lay flung up against one side of the tavern when she came to, and Somber upside down on top of Richard almost on the road. Around them lay smoldering debris, and a thick fog of acrid smoke that had resulted after the blast, rather than been blown away by it.
- -
Stygian's prepared hand slashed out and parried Edge's blade, just a bit of sparks striking. But only once. As the bat closed up with the feline, he actually grabbed the blade and pulled the cat close in, and then stared deeply in his eyes, iridescent blue meeting gleaming black. His fangs were exposed in a grin.
"Unless you can actually get an attack through, it doesn't matter what piece I strike with," he snarled, and then swiped with claws out against Edge's neck.
"Nor does it matter what you do for a counter!" The feline twisted, and parried the attack, turning it into a quick, needle-like thrust for the bat's head in a movement to the side, which Stygian in turn easily dodged by going low and displaying his agility by sweeping his leg out at the cat, and then spin and move up on his hands so that the sweep turned into two handstanding kicks against the feline's head before he completed the spin and came back up on his feet, already flashing claws, which Edge leapt to avoid and parry, and then counter with his sword, aiming for the bat's gut, as it was hardest to defend with claws like that.
Then, suddenly, a wave of force cut between them, and ran into the bat's shoulder and left arm, as they had both spun to the side at the exact right, or wrong, moment. For a moment, there seemed a stunned look on his face. Then his outline grew shadowy where it did not turn colorless, as if light passed through him like nothing, and he turned into darkness that seeped away and vanished like smoke.
"May I ask why you're interrupting our game?" Stygian said, standing with his arms folded and leaning against a tree not five paces to the side from Cogidubnus. His face and tone were both smooth but irritated, and his sideways glance toward the wolf somewhat heated.
"As much as I appreciate that you know to strike at him when he's distracted and I'm out of the way, that was really not neccessary. And I did say that I would play with him." That was a pointer, if anything.
- -
After the air had torn with the blast, and dust and mud and various other things had flown up on Aisha as she was pushed back, and Gareeku had gotten to his senses after being tossed a short way, and both their ears stopped ringing, they heard a loud smack and then the violent, agitated sound of a female voice shouting. The hyena stood out on the balcony next to a broken window and in dirt and rocks, loudly and in no gentle words exclaiming her thoughts on the whole deal.
"ARE YOU PEOPLE FUCKING INSANE?! I TOLD YOU, AND THEN YOU GO MESSING UP THE WHOLE BLOODY PLACE ENTIRELY! I SWEAR, WHEN I GET..."
Keaton only realized that the explosion was closing in on her when her feet departed the ground and she was flung ahead like she were as light as a feather. If it weren't for the deafening, thunderous roar that split the sky and rocked the shredded earth, her comrades probably would've heard her shriek a very foul expletive at nothing in particular. Pieces of foliage, chunks of boulder, and burning blades of grass whipped past in a buffeting bombardment of debris, some incinerating on the spot, some disintegrating gradually, or others smashing into other soon-to-be projectiles and uprooting them.
Before she knew it, the jackal was sprawled against the wall of the tavern, eyes rolling in the back of her head and wings splayed in a ragged heap around her. Too disorientated to think properly, Keaton lolled her head to the side, head-wings and ears drooping, and looked around at the devastated field. An enormous, craterous groove engulfed the smoldering earth, exuding towers of noxious fumes from it. Groaning, Keaton idly wondered where her mace was as her right hand twitched to life, only to notice that its handle was embedded into the wall a few inches away from her head.
Well, wasn't that fortunate. Or unfortunate. As her vision started to clear and the curses slipped in a steady stream from her mouth, Keaton looked around in search of her companions. Somber and Richard were nearby, but she couldn't find Gareeku, Aisha, Mel, Cogidubnus, or Stygian. Suddenly realizing the presence of a nasty headache throbbing in her mind, Keaton slumped, clutching her scalp. She wondered if she had gotten beaten on the head by an errant chunk of debris, but further inspection revealed that there was no blood on her head.
Then there was the yelling of the hyena on the nearby balcony. Narrowing her eyes in a sour "oh, I am NOT in the mood for this kind of shit" expression, Keaton stared up at the hyena, directing a furious, but weary glare.
She just couldn't catch a break.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"Let me down!" the baboon yelled as Somber dragged him along, "I gotta get to the head! One bite and we can interrogate at will! Let me-!"
And then, insofar as the senses could ascertain, the world exploded.
Richard curled his arms around Somber as he hit the ground, making sure the impact was a bit more pleasant for the demon. After all, he was dead anyway and wouldn't feel it.
"Remind- uh oh," his voice had taken on a slight gurgle, "That never means anything good. Anyway, next time someone pulls out a flask of whatever the hell that was, I'm calling 'not it.'"
Aisha watched the fight closely from her point on the balcony, silently cheering on her comrades, however hasty they were in their attacks. It was inevitable however that soon there would be an end to it, much to her relief and probably to the others as well. Then it came almost too quickly, the reptilian's body falling to the ground and his head flung away. The panthress had to cringe and avert her gaze. Did not wanna see that. Her eyes however fell back upon the destruction that she and her group caused. Any of this.
But a shout had suddenly caught her ears, followed by several more, and the huntress caught the running figures out of the corner of her eye. When Aisha looked up to see what they were running from, only then did she remember how Illat caused the whole thing...
The panthress had thrown herself to the floor of her platform as an explosion rocked the ground and seemed to shatter her hearing for a few moments. The very air became awash with heat, and she could feel debris and mud pelting her so quickly that her skin soon felt numb to the blows. She was knocked over onto her side and stayed there until things felt quiet again, wondering if she was buried under something.
Standing up and shaking her head to get rid of the annoying ringing, she peered over the edge of the balcony, trying to see if everyone was in one piece. But when Aisha could hear again the first thing she caught was the hyena owner nearby, in a voice that wanted to make her cringe after just getting used to an explosion.
Dizzily, Aisha stood up on her feet and approached the angered barkeeper with an annoyed, overly blank glare that would have silenced most anyone's such rants. Most. "In case you haven't noticed..." she snarled lowly. "We messed up the place while defending our lives." She gestured to the bloodied sea of mercenaries below. "Be thankful that your establishment didn't go up in flames just as where we had run from. There they had more than a window to replace."
With that, the panthress leaped from the balcony and landed with less-than-perfect grace on the ground, snorting derisively while her cape changed back to its black, shadowy color and she approached where her comrades had landed.
Perhaps that was a little more harsh than Aisha was usually. But after everything that's happened, everyone certainly had a right to be. "Everyone in one piece?" she said with a sigh, brushing off the dirt on her arm.
Mel had been far enough ahead of the others that she had made the inn's grounds and a small service shed. Ducking behind it she had added a layer of magic for further protection. She hadn't taken time to analyze the magics she had seen on the gator's corpse, but they looked particularly nasty and she wasn't taking chances. First there was the concussion and a hail of debris then something knocked her to the ground. When everything settled and she looked up Mel saw that her paranoia had been justified. A tree branch had gone entirely through the shed and still hit her shield hard enough to push her over. She got up and looked down at herself. Her spell-laden outfit quickly shed itself of dirt and tiny tears closed. Looking around at the mess she decided that the best view would be from on high. Leathery white wings, larger than a demons, spread from her back and in a quick movement she was on the roof of the inn to survey the extent of the damage. And it was extensive. She had only just landed when she heard the hyena screaming and looked down to see most of the rest of the party, relatively whole. Further out she could sense more than see the other fight. "Everyone make it?" she called down to the ground.
Cog gave Stygian an irritated look and set one hand atop his sword hilt. "Didn't mean to interrupt your game, good sir. But have a care your opponent doesn't flip the table upon you." he said, yellow eyes sliding over the bat and back to their opponent.
Cog kept his feet spaced slightly apart, at slight angles to each other, the shape a sort of half-triangle pointed away from his opponent. He arm kept the still sheathed sword low, and though his hat obscured his face, his eyes still gleamed past the brim to stare at the feline swordsman. He was on a wire trigger, and the strange grace-beyond-effort suffused his limbs, making him seem to waver even as he stood still.
It had been a long time since another swordsman had attacked him. Then again, he doubted anyone had heard of him this far from home...
Seeing the body as he heard the call to run, Gareeku knew what was up, and so did just that. The force of the explosion still tossed him aside however, despite the distance between the body and Gareeku. As the explosion subsided, the wolf rose to his feet, coughing slightly from the dust thrown up by the explosion. Turning to hear the hyena screaming, Gareeku narrowed his eyes. Contemplating giving the hyena a few hard knocks, the wolf decided against it. He had had enough excitement for one evening.
The hyena kept her snarling and growling up, against the comments and looks of the adventurers. Her look focused upon the panthress first though, as she was the first one to respond.
"It's not my establishment, you moron! I'll ge..." she began, and then stopped suddenly as a deep voice sounded from behind her.
"What seems to be the problem, Charlize?"
Out of the door a towering shape slowly moved, arch-necked and hunched down low as the door would not accomodate him. Slowly, he rose to a height of surely seven feet and more, while taking smooth steps toward the stairs down off the balcony, tall, slender, heavy and muscular, dressed in a formal suit of smooth blue and black, with grayish scales tinged with just a slight golden gleam under a black pattern, and flowing black-tipped golden frills between a pair of curved black horns. His deep azure, star-pupiled eyes were like awls over his pointed snout.
"Are you the ones responsible for this?" the dragon asked, his voice a melodious rumble that was as hard to read as his face. The only thing that hinted danger was the way his eyes glowed, and the continuous snakelike movements of his tail.
- -
Stygian sighed, and breathed another smoky cloud, slowly turning and standing, looking down as he took the cigar from his mouth and tapped the ash off the end of it.
"I appreciate your concern, as I do your candor. But it so happens..." the bat murred, and turned his face against Edge. He didn't even slide into stance before he suddenly appeared behind the feline. In fact, the Stygian next to Cogidubnus was still there, even, just fading out into shadow. Neither the cat nor the wolf had felt anything. There was just the slightest seething sound, easily missed in the rustle of the trees and the wind.
"I have an advantage here. A significant one," he murred, smoke slipping between razor teeth in his grin.
"Only by... refusing to simply lay down... and die, sir." Panted a voice out of the smoke and chill air. Somber limped into view of the inn. The adamantine plates she wore had actually been bent by the force of the blast. "Those who... came here to start.... the violence have been... felled by it. Un... unfortunately I... doubt... they're in much condition to... make... reparations." She said between gasps as she looked up at the dragon and coughed hard, spitting a mouthful of blood to the side. Her ear cocked as she looked to the side. "There might still... be one... around. You can... ask him... about the bill."
Gods she hurt. She fell on to hands and knees. She'd shielded Richard from the blast as much as possible and was paying for her good deed. At least evil's punishments were for deeds more fun. Complecating her bent armor was a demonic bone that had pierced right through the adamantite plate and was now lodged in her back, a few inches of femur jutting from the wound. "C...could you... l...lend me a hand... and... pull... that... out... sir?" She said as she coughed again.
Slash. Parry. Thrust. Dodge. An opening! Edge lunged forward to slice at the bat's midsection. His ears perked up and flicked towards the approaching danger, but his gaze remained fixed on the bat. This was not the type of opponent to take one's eyes off of. One good strike, and...
He leapt back at the last moment. A moment too late. The edge of the blast caught him across the side and spun him in midair. The wave of force continued unabated until it smashed into the fallen treetop beyond with a sickening crack. A shower of splinters and leaves rained down around him. As the dust settled on the clearing, his two fallen clones faded into nothingness. Had they ever been more than a mirage?
Edge swiveled into a ready stance to face this new threat. He relaxed only slightly when Stygian disappeared to speak with the wolf. He brushed the dirt from his hair and shook his arm as if to regain feeling after the numbing impact.
He froze when the bat reappeared behind him.
"What an interesting technique. I shall have to learn how you do that."
He called out to the interloper. "As you can see, your friend has the situation well in hand. Still..."
"...you thought that the infamous Stygian would need help against poor little me." Edge's soft voice floated down from behind Cog. But he was still standing out there with Stygian... wasn't he? "I must graciously accept the praise as offered."
The feline crouched like a gargoyle on one of the branches above the wolf--one hand curled around the bough, the other leaning his sword against his shoulder. The black on black panther's form was barely a shadow against the dark backdrop of the midnight sky. Only his moonlit sapphire eyes and pearly white Cheshire cat grin gave him away. He studied his new opponent intently.
"I don't understand why you're siding with this criminal, however." He leaned forward on his perch. "You do seem like a nice enough fellow. Surely you must know that your friend here is a notorious fugitive with a price on his head the size of--"
The brilliant flash of a not-too-distant explosion filtered through the trees. A second later, its thunderous report roared through the woods. Moonlight scattered across a cloud of smoke and debris rising above the treetops.
"Ah..." The dark feline glanced towards the direction of the blast. "I believe that would be Illat turning your partners in crime into small chunks of charred flesh." He sighed. "The idiot reptile has all the finesse of a sack of bricks."
Richard's first attempt at getting up resulted in his right shin snapping and sending him right back to the ground with a bellow of "Bloody idiot reptile!" After he'd managed to crawl his way over to a suitable tree branch thrown away by the explosion and reattached a few fingers he hobbled over in the direction Somber had gone.
"And if I may add to that?" The undead raised the hand that wasn't grasping his makeshift crutch to catch the dragon's attention, "Let me know if you see my tail anywhere."
Growling, Stygian stepped past the replacement Edge, and shook his head. He looked up at the feline with a scowl, promptly ignoring the one behind him. The cat was quick, but...
"You shouldn't speak too much yourself. You're ripping trails in the pattern like a blunt shear through canvas. Who taught you to twist the shadows?" he said, almost snarling but not quite. He was getting irritated with the feline. Sarcasm and criticism and even plain foolishness were all part of how even the most understandable people behaved, but smugness and imagined superiority...
The bat didn't bother with any more shadow clones. This time he just waved his hand to the side without even looking. And the oddest, worst thing about it, to 'Edge' at least, was the sensation as his duplicate was ripped up. It didn't look like it was, really. Rather, it just looked like it blurred, startling back, and then turned into black smoke, waved away by the bat's big hand. But the feline had felt it. First, the shadow in it had suddenly started crawling and stinging, and then the magic had been stripped asunder, piece by piece, as if ripped up by thousands of tiny claws and teeth.
"Games are not tricks. And when you don't play by the rules, you're not allowed to play," Stygian said calmly. His thoughts were heated though, as much as they were amused. Next, all he would need was to get the cat to try and run again.
And so, an eyeblink later, Edge was faced with the bat's face turned upside down as he swung from the branch above. He was snarling.
"So keep on the board, kitty!"- -
The dragon only waited a second, raising an eyebrow, before obliging Somber's request, slowly making his way down the stairs and slipping around behind her. He took a look at the piece of bone lodged in her back, and tapped it lightly with a clawed finger, then looked up to the hyena.
"Bring whatever medical supplies you can readily find, Charlize. The guests will hardly leave so soon now, I think," he said smoothly, and then went back to studying the lapine. He took a look over all of her, before focusing at the bonepipe again, and then examined it clinically. Then, very suddenly, he grabbed it with the tips of his fingers, and pulled it out quite easily and quickly. There wasn't so much as a rasp or a sound. And Somber herself hardly had time to react before he gripped her firmly, and pressed his large hand against her wound hard.
"It's not going to bleed through, but we will have to open it and see if there are splinters," he said, as calmly as if he had been talking about the weather.
Watching the arrival of the dragon by the hyena, Gareeku stood his ground; he was not one to be intimidated. Seeing him tend to Somber's injury, however, made it clear that he was not looking for a confrontation. Walking up to the two of them, Gareeku nodded his head slightly in greeting.
"I wish to use your shower to clean myself off." the wolf said, referring to the fact that he covered head to toe in the blood his fallen enemies. "Please."
Mel stepped off the roof peak, her large leathery wings and a bit of an air spell giving her a delicate, silent landing near the others. She looked at the big grey with a bit of a smile as she commented in draconian, "I'll present your bill to the authors of the violence when we find them." Then in common, "Since the demon is being tended, how are you three? Any healing needed?"
Cogidubnus scowled. The situation was becoming less than optimal - there was far too much teleportation going on around him than he was comfortable with. That was to say, hi stomach didn't sit so well when his opponent translocated and started staring at him from the treetops.
On the other hand, having an ally who could do the same wasn't so bad.
Cog called back to the assassin. "Help you? You tried to blow me up first, good sir. Your enemies are my allies and all that."
Shadows seemed to be the specialty of both the bat and the feline, which put him in a nice bind. He couldn't eradicate the advantage of his opponent without also disabling his ally – light, the usually weakness of shadow-users, was out of the question.
There were alternate routes he could take. Raising his hand, Cog uttered a short, sharp syllable and clenched his fist. From out the sky and seemingly nowhere, a thundercrack rent the air and echoed throughout the woods, a deafening boom that echoed through the forest. Cog began to chant, the mystic words burbling out of his mouth softly as the air began to increasingly smell of ozone and dirt.
Hearing as the others voiced that they were unharmed--mostly--Aisha nodded with content as she picked the last of the mud that had caked onto her clothing and embedded in the free strands of her hair. When the hyena called back after the panthress, she chose to ignore her...after being hunted and cornered into a massacre, she didn't feel at all like dealing with anyone overly-angry. "I'm fine, Mel," she answered back with confidence and yet a flat voice.
She couldn't ignore the next individual however, whom she regarded with a quirked eyebrow in surprise. A dragon, and a suspicious one at that, confronting the adventurers. The panthress couldn't help but become a little more respectful as the owner showed himself, and was about to answer his question when a rasping voice answered for her.
Somber, the only one who took a good amount of damage from the blast, it seemed, had answered his inquiry and was asking for help. There was a part of the huntress that felt a bit of satisfaction from the blood-covered demon's plight...but Aisha discarded those thoughts quickly. The lapine fought on the group's side, after all, and perhaps didn't deserve as much pain as a demon would have had against them.
Her gaze then wandered to where Illat's corpse lay strewn in two clean pieces before the explosion. Definitely not.
Aisha then sighed and stood with her arms crossed in front of the entrance, thinking that she too needed a bit of cleaning up. No sane adventurer walked into a town covered in someone else's blood. "We would appreciate it," she muttered politely.
Reorganizing her disarrayed and scrambled mind back into relative order, Keaton listened to Aisha snap angrily at the hyena who had wailed at them from the balcony with slight satisfaction, feeling too disorientated and too bruised to contribute to the verbal assault in some way. She made a mental note to personally applaud Aisha later...
Just as soon as the world stopped doing cartwheels, that was. Maybe she should take a nap. Yeah, a nap sounded really good at the moment...
Just as Keaton was about to oblige her body's commands and let herself close her eyes, Somber limped up. Keaton winced graphically at the size of the bloodstained bone jutting out of her mutilated back. That was certainly enough to jolt her out of her daze, if in a rather gruesome fashion. Glancing back up at the sound of a new, more thunderous--yet somehow melodious--voice, Keaton's ears lay flat as she saw a tall, bulky dragon storm out from within the bar, joining his hyena companion. So this was the owner of the bar. Somehow the epithet of the tavern made a lot more sense to Keaton other than just an artistic inclination.
Thankfully the dragon didn't seem interested in driving them all away or, even worse, exacerbating the situation by fighting them, but instead walked over and after instructing the hyena to deliver some medical supplies, extricated the bone noiselessly from Somber's back. Sighing with relief, Keaton let her head fall back again and was about to let herself sleep--or pass out, same thing--against the wall when she heard a familiar voice. One she wasn't too happy about hearing.
Mel was walking around, inquiring the trio on whether or not they needed to be healed. Keaton probably would've countered with a rather vicious retort if she could, but another, sudden abrupt revolution of the world made her consider otherwise. Perhaps she had hit the wall harder than she had previously assumed. "Yeah," Keaton said wearily, leaning foreward, "I think I need some help over here."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Predictably, Somber didn't cry out in pain. She just gripped the wall hard enough to leave eight claw marks in the joist as the bone was extracted. Her next breath had a sickening burbling noise till the dragon applied the pressure. Coughing more blood she spat it to the side. "Thanks. If it doesn't kill me in the next hour or so I should survive." Indeed the dozen nicks and scratches along her back and legs had stopped bleeding. "So, what's your name, tall dark and scaley?" She asked, forcing a smile as she tried to maintain her humor. Despite her brave face there was no question she hurt like hell. After all she'd been blown up twice tonight. There was only so much a girl could take before she needed a nice long nap.
Glancing over her shoulder, back at the woods, she asked, "Where's that bat and the others? I didn't see them near the blast..."
Edge's eyes widened as Stygian shredded his double. When the bat appeared in front of him, he wore an almost confused expression. By the time the snarling rebukes ended, however, his eyes had narrowed into slits. His lip curled.
"Oh, I see perfectly." Edge glared at the bat. "You are allowed to do as you please, but when I do it, it's a trick. That's what your kind calls playing by the rules."
He called down to Cog when the wolf replied, but his eyes never left the bat. "An ally, you say? When in doubt, follow the scariest one, I suppose. Nonetheless, it's not polite to interrupt a game..."
"Please, good sir," came an oddly familiar voice from the shadows. "Let's give the boys room to play, shall we?"
Cogidubnus--another Cogidubnus--emerged from behind a tree. "Your opponent is me. Or should I say... you." He charged the spellcasting wolf. As he closed the distance between them, he drew his katana and sliced upwards in a single motion. The blade whistled towards his twin with alarming speed.
"Now the teams are even. Is that fair?"
The figure crouched before the bat was no longer feline. Stygian might as well have been looking in a mirror, albeit upside down and backwards. Moonlit shadows twisted around this new "Stygian" in ways that defied physics. Razor sharp tendrils of inky darkness coiled around his body. Without further warning, they lashed out--midnight blades intent on removing the hanging bat's head from his body.
Mel saw that the cubi had not moved from the ground, she was still slumped against the building. "What's wrong, Keaton?" She knelt beside the jackal, neatly tucking the skirts of her coat behind her. The girl didn't need to answer, Mel could see the lump on her head "A bad headache, I'd guess." She brushed one slightly cool hand over Keaton's forehead, then around and between ear and headwing. The coolness of her hand seemed to linger for moments after it passed as the healing settled in. "While you look quite appropriately roguish with that burgeoning black eye I'm sure that you'd rather get rid of it." The hand moved down, gently closing the eye then almost immediately pulling away. "Do you hurt anywhere else Keaton?"
Having located his tail hanging on part of the Dragon's Grin, Richard slung it over his shoulder and hobbled over toward Aisha. He needed help too, yes, but doubted that anyone here had a needle and thread or any of the numerous other objects that would be found in what the baboon preferred to call a second-aid kit. He'd be more useful offering a hand anywho rather than wasting the healer's time.
"You looked like you knew what was going on out there," he said, inclining his head in the huntresses direction and shifting his grip on his makeshift crutch, "Think there's any of 'em left?"
Her arms crossed as she watched the scene unfold, including the dragon's calm way to oblige prying the piece of bone from out of Somber's back. For a moment Aisha wondered just how good it would be to even stay here for a little longer...with so many dead bodies around, it wouldn't be long before someone would come to investigate, especially if they were on the mercenaries' side. Her head hung slightly. Someone's going to be pissed, I just know it.
She quirked an ear however on hearing Richard coming around to where she was, tilting her head with a somewhat amused look at the undead's appearance before turning serious again. "If you mean more idiots to cross us, there are no more from what I could see. I think we might have finally been given the blessing of a break tonight."
The last part, however, she said with two fingers of her right hand crossed. She wasn't the superstitious sort, but at this point avoiding jinxing their luck was a good idea.
Seeing his own reflection attack him was unnerving if nothing else, and behind shaded lenses Cog narrowed his eye for just a moment before whirling into action. Even as the reflection began its draw, Cog shifted on his feet and prepared to dodge. As soon as he saw the sheath of the sword twist down, then a little further, he threw himself to the side and sucked in a breath of air as the blade whistled past his nose.
Trying to imitate his fighting style. Really.
Cog smoothly raised his hand as he finished his spell, and the ensuing lightning bolt tore from his hand to slam point-blank into his clone. It hit him with a wet sizzle, and threw the thing back several yards into a convenient treetrunk, where he lay still.
Cog blew some smoke off his hand. "I think not." he said, taking a brilliant golden coin from out one of his pockets and placing it on his open palm
The larger dragon just chuckled at Mel, giving her a warm sidelong glance while tending to Somber, and then turned to look over the rest of the party. Then, when he received the inquiry as to his name, he turned and looked down the considerable span in height between him and Somber, putting his arms behind his back, one large fist inside his other palm.
"Rauth Mörkesorm, miss. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I believe," he said, taking her hand. He could easily have fit three of them in his own. Now smiling just a bit, he looked to Gareeku, and then glanced to Aisha as well.
"I would gladly lend you a room for the night, if you were indeed attacked as it would seem. However, I will have to charge you extra for the damage that has been caused to my property." He didn't gesture, didn't look aside or even change face. He was just stating something that was clearly obvious to him. And there was no indication that he was about to start inquiring into their business. His eyes told that he would be prepared for any eventualities. His gaze was clear and deep enough that he might as well have known everything that had happened to them that evening, for all he gave sign of.
Without any further words, he turned toward the tavern, and started walking up back to it. The hyena wasn't exactly glaring at him, but neither was her look pleased with how he had dealt with the whole business. Her jaw was still set, and her cheeks flushed a bit, looking at the adventurers from down the balcony with stark disapproval.
- -
Stygian kept his mind level through the feline's almost petulant words. If he couldn't see further than that... His expression almost went back to smooth and disconcerned. But then, Cogidubnus' voice called out from below, and for an instant his eyes turned from the cat before him, narrowing dangerously. Then he looked back, only to see how the cat had taken on his own appearance. And his eyes widened again. The sheer insolence...!
He lost it. His calm seething away as his anger heated to the point of boiling, Stygian's expression froze, his dark eyes wide. And when the tendrils of inky blackness came lashing for him, the shadows shifted. The bat wasn't fast enough to escape an attack from so close, no matter his speed, and the barbed coils slashed through him as if he had been made of...
Shadow. It was only shadow. The bat before his 'twin' was ripped up like paper, splitting into quickly dissipating pieces of darkness, falling and crumbling and seeping away.
"I'm so flattered," came a voice from behind the false Stygian,
"Really. Please, go ahead!" Then came a hand, closing around the 'bat's' face, the grip hard as a vise. The fake felt something closing up behind him, grabbing those tentacles and ensnaring them, twisting them so hard that it felt as if they were about to rip apart. They were only a mimicry of the real thing, after all.
Over his shoulder, a face not dissimilar, but far more fearsome than the fake's own came into view. Disfigured into a middle-thing between a snarl and a horrid grin, this other Stygian's fur had paled to an unhealthy off-ivory color, and his teeth and mouthflesh contrastingly turned glistening, oily black. From the corners of his black eyes, now positively glowing in some manner hard to describe, thin lines of veiny darkness were creeping out.
The false bat's ears numbed as he heard the roar, a bestial one that could not have been uttered by any natural throat. He felt something tear into his back, and those tendrils of blackness were twisted and broken. Claws dug into his side as the grip on his face tightened, and then he was thrown around like a toy. He hit the trunk of the tree hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs and make his back go numb, and then he was ripped from there just as fast, tumbling into the ground headfirst.
Stygian took enough of a pause to rise to his feet, standing lightly on the branch from which he had thrown the cubi, glaring down at the figure sprawled down beneath. Shadows seethed and snaked behind him, slowly drawing in from having entwined all of the canopy around him, to form a shape that was almost like two great, dark, twisted wings, the second he remained still. Then, he dove, turning into a dark blur once again.
To Edge, the world tumbled around again as he was torn off the ground, and again his back met a hard surface rather violently. Cogidubnus on the other hand saw as the bat hit his double as if shot from a cannon, ramming into his duplicate, and then flipped over and gripped his neck, throwing him around as if the other had not weighed more than a child, smacking him into a tree and pressing him up against it.
"You can have that face if you'd like. But first I'll peel yours off!" Stygian fumed, his free hand slowly closing with the fake's face, black-tipped fingers with claws half as long as themselves playing through his fur.
"Maybe that will be a good lesson. I'll destroy your looks, and you'll have to wear mine. Forever!" Again, in that hideous manner, he grinned.
To Edge who was, unfortunately, still conscious through the beating, despite the pain and the several blows that came close to knocking him out, several sensations and thoughts swirled through his head. The first was that there was simply too much of that darkness. The second was that he could finally feel something from the bat. Rage. Indignation, hatred and spite mixed into it, but mostly just pure rage.
The grip on his throat was constricting. If it went much further... But the bat stopped. His grin went away, replaced by a scowl. Then, he drew his hand back, and a second later, everything was dark.
Cogidubnus saw Stygian take his hand away from his double, and lift him up. Then, he swept it into the fake's neck, right below where the spine joined with the cranium. Not as hard as he could have, but more than hard enough to knock the impostor unconscious. Slowly, the bat dropped the doppelganger to the ground.
Those wings, black as night, and much larger than a cubi's, came into sight again as the darkness snaking around the bat took form. For a second, the wolf thought he could also see something around the chiropteran's head, like an aura. But before he could take a closer look, both faded, the darkness seeping and crumbling away. Stygian's appearance once again returned to normal, save his eyes, which were still gleaming black as he turned to Cog.
"We're going back," he stated, just to have something to say in a normal tone. Then, he turned, reaching for 'Edge's' neck.
Perhaps most odd was that for a second, Cogidubnus thought that, though very faintly, he had heard music from somewhere.
Kiri couldn't help but smile as she walked down the road. Her baby sister was making friends at school, Kiri got her own room now that Shona moved out, and Kiri had high hopes of getting a new job. Her mother definitely wouldn't approve of a fifteen-year-old working in a tavern, but Kiri was old enough to work, and she'd feel like a burden if she just hung around the house all day.
The small brown feline sighed as she stopped to look at the glass half-sphere she wore around her neck.
"Hey dad? Can you hear me?" She whispered. "I'm gonna try to get a job again. For good, this time. No more screwing up." She turned to little glass pendant around in her paw. "I wish you were here to tell me what the heck this is. A charm? Doubt it."
She continued walking towards her hopefully soon-to-be job.
"A patch? Maybe, but what would you want to hi--"
Kiri stared at the mess in front of her. Outside of the bar the ground was covered in blood, broken windows, an angry hyena, and a dragon? There were some other beings too.... And creatures?... Exhausted and wounded sitting around. From a ways off you could hear some fighting still going on.
"What the hell...?"
Listening to what the dragon head, Gareeku nodded his head slightly.
"Thank you. I will of course be paying for some of the damages." the wolf replied, his voice calm, yet there was an essence of flatness about it. It was then, however, that Gareeku turned to see a new figure in the area. Upon first laying eyes on the figure, the wolf gripped his blood-covered sword. However, seeing that the stranger was a teenage girl who held no ill will, Gareeku relaxed somewhat.
"I believe I need to clean myself off." the wolf stated as he turned back towards the entrance to the inn, before heading inside.
"Um..." Kiri said to no one in particular, staring in shock at the scene around her. "Not that it's any of my business but..... Would someone please tell me what's going on?" Her shaky yet quiet voice hid what was going on inside her head.
Oh my gods, what happened?! Why is there all this blood?! Why did someone hurt them?! Oh gods, there's undead? Oh gods...
Darkness.The impostor fell. His form flickered. The body that crumpled to the ground was no longer a white-furred bat, but an obsidian jaguar once more. There was no sign of his weapon. His black suit, its once-fine material torn and frayed, offered mere hints of the damage that lay underneath. His tongue lolled out of a half-open jaw, dripping a staccato patter of blood and saliva onto the leaves below. A brief gust of wind picked them up and scattered them off into the shadows of the night.
+ + +
Edge!
Are you okay?
Wake up!
Please?
I'm scared...
Richard turned to the newcomer, nearly falling over. He never got the hang of crutches, and this wasn't exactly hospital regulation.
"What happened is that we're a bunch of people of the type your parents warned you about talking to, and we're in a situation you don't want to be involved in," the undead said, his words coming out half rasp and half gurgle. Another reminder to patch up those ribs soon.
Gareeku had just passed into the tavern, and the dragon followed to give him a key to a room, the hyena shifting her gaze between the ruined walls and windows, and the adventurers, clearly not intending to help out with serving them. Elsewhere in the main building, someone else was stirring. Toward the edges of the blast crater a few things were still smoking, and some trees and bushes were still burning. But mostly the place just seemed eerily still against the pandemonium of a few minutes earlier.
Then there was a bit of a rustle, and the sound of footsteps, carelessly not minding silence as they crunched through sticks and crackled on stone and gravel.
"Mel! I'm going to need your help here. This asshole needs a tune-up," Stygian said, trudging out from below a couple of trees and holding a badly beaten melanoid feline roughly by the neck, half carrying and half dragging him along. "I think we should get a room so we can interrogate the bastard too. Or has that already been taken care of?"
The bat glanced up against the hyena, and somehow, her face soured further, before she turned and walked hurriedly through the door and back into the tavern.
Aisha hummed slightly as she listened to the dragon's reply to their situation, nodding along with what Gareeku had said about helping to pay for damages. It wasn't the worst situation to be in at that moment after all, and she knew that saving money from her bounties would be good for something.
Her arms crossed, she had started toward the entrance of the inn when an ear swiveled to catch a new, unfamiliar voice. The panthress had to cringe just a bit. The newcomer sounded scared, coming upon a sea of bodies and a group drenched in blood...no doubt the kind of sight that would turn into dislike of the adventurer kind.
Glancing toward the felid, Aisha uncrossed her arms. "However rude it sounded, the corpse has a point," she smirked as if joking, but the emotion in her eyes was nothing but serious. "Wherever we go we are seemingly attracting some trouble. But you needn't fear us. Just keep out of our way."
With that, she stepped back into the inn to see about finding a room for herself, despite the feeling that she might not get that much sleep.
Cog silently put the coin back into his pocket and followed the bat back to the party. It wasn't much in his nature to leave enemies alive, but...the bat seemed to have it well in hand. Perhaps he would die after they asked him their questions.
They would see.
The rest of the party seemed to be somewhat worse for the wear, although the wounded seemed to be getting quick treatment. The demon-rabbit in particular had a ghastly wound - a dragon he hadn't seen before was tending it, however. She would survive.
In point of fact, he thought, they had all survived. He nodded to himself and brushed some dirt of his clothing before brushing past the bat to follow the barkeeper woman up the stairs. No point in staying out in the open, after all.
At the sound of the child's voice Mel stopped watching the dragon go up the stairs. She heard both the baboon and Aisha speak to the child in turn. "Perhaps the wrong one is being warned. Looking young and innocent means nothing." Her face, currently snow leopard, shifted just slightly until she seemed younger than the newcomer, then back to adulthood. "Someone make sure she isn't another assassin."
She had just turned to Somber to inquire about her injury when Ignatz's voice rang out. She called back, "The owner has agreed to let us rooms, at the unsavory customer price. And the demon is wounded. Who has priority?" Then she smiled at both the rabbit and the baboon, "We really ought to finish the introductions."
"Richard Trochoufski... Mel right?" The baboon smiled good naturedly at the ice dragon, hoping he'd gotten it right, "Good point. Alright girly," Richard hobbled toward the newcomer, dragging his broken leg along the ground, "Being the most expendable person here and all, I'll be making sure you're not out to kill us this evening," some manner of detection spell began to form in the hand not clutching the crutch, "Hands up, please."
Keaton allowed Mel to heal her without any notable reactions, other than a slightly surly gaze about her expression, even as the soothing, cold sensation started to ebb away at her injuries. Only when Mel commented on her black eye did Keaton's discourteous look falter, if only in slight shock. She hadn't realized the skin around her eye had swollen. With that burgeoning bruise removed and all traces of dizziness swept away from her aching mind, Keaton stretched slightly and inspected her body. No further ostensible injuries or adverse responses from her body. Apparently all of her wounds had been healed, although considering the state of Richard, who was finding pieces of him scattered about, and Somber, who had been skewered with a bone, she had got off lucky.
Common sense demanded that she thank Mel, putting away all traces of tense history. So she did, albeit somewhat begrudgingly, as Keaton climbed to her feet. "Uh, thanks," she muttered, turning around to stare at Catastrophe once she had finished looking over her glasses. The frames were dented and the glass about to fall out of the outline, but she assumed it would be easy enough to fix via magic. For now she turned to her mace.
It was still impaled right in the wall. Grabbing it by its elaborate handle, she extricated the mace after a momentary struggle.
A younger voice. Keaton's ears swiveled upright and she automatically glanced at the youthful, tawny feline female standing there. A kid? What was a kid doing here? Good thing the danger was already over (hopefully), otherwise Keaton would've probably went out of her way to try and protect the child from anything and everything remotely dangerous-looking. Cursed religious chivarly. As this passed through her mind, Stygian returned with Cogidubnus in tow, the body of a sable-furred feline dangling from his grip by the nape of his neck. Everyone else was leaving to either be tended to or to rest, so Keaton decided that she should as well.
Not that she needed to sleep. She just needed to digest what had happened and possibly repair her glasses. Because of her monochromatic vision in one eye, it would be rather cumbersome to walk around without them. Thanks to the bewitchment held over the glasses, she was able to saturate color into her vision.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"What? But I..." Kiri took a step backwards instinctively.
Do you have any idea how that makes you look either more suspicious, or like a stupid brat? said a little voice inside her. Kiri gulped, and looked at the undead. "I-if you have to check, that's fine. But I assure you, I am not an assassin and I have no wish to kill you." The small feline glanced at the hand of the undead baboon. "Um... how exactly do you plan to make sure?"
I really hope this doesn't hurt... Will it hurt? Oi, why didn't I pay more attention to those magic books?
Richard chuckled, "A little number for detecting anything on the subject's person that they think of as a weapon. You'll only get hurt if I find something. Now then, unless there's something you'd like to tell us beforehand, hands up," not waiting for her to comply he began passing his hand near Kiri, not unlike one checking the direction of air currents.
Having headed inside, Gareeku turned to see that the dragon had followed him in. A few moments later, he wanted handed a key to one of the rooms.
"Thank you." the wolf said with a slight of his head before heading off to the room that the key allowed his access to. After a little while of searching, Gareeku found the room that was to be his, and after unlocking the door, he headed inside.
Closing the door behind him, Gareeku immediately got undressed, and after dumping his clothes in the sink in the en-suite bathroom, climbed into the shower, taking his sword with to wash it while he was in there. Very quickly, the water that was originating from the shower head had turned a shade of crimson by the time that it had reached the shower floor, the blood that had been on the wolf's fur and the blade, as well as the sword's sheath, mixing in with it as it was washed away.
It was then as he finished his shower, however, that Gareeku's ears pricked up. Someone had entered the room. Quietly climbing out of the shower, the wolf grabbed a towel from the bathroom rack, wrapping it around him before grabbing his. Flinging the door open, Gareeku was then met with a rather startled woman; the maid.
"Oh! Um...g-good evening sir!" the maid stammered, a look of shock and apprehension as she eyed the katana in the wolf's hand. "I was sent to get your clothes to be washed."
Looking the maid up and down for a second, Gareeku then turned and reached for the clothes that were still in the bathroom sink, handed them to the maid who looked at the bloodstained clothes with a mix of worry and slight disgust. "Thank you, sir. Enjoy your stay..."
"Thank you." the wolf replied gruffly, before shutting the bathroom door behind him.
A few minutes later, Gareeku emerged from the bathroom with the sheathed katana, his fur now dry. Glancing at the bed, the wolf found that the maid had left some clothes for him to wear while his normal outfit was being washed. Upon closer inspection, Gareeku found the outfit to consist of a black t-shirt, a pair of blue denim jeans, and a pair of white sneakers, as well as a set of underwear. Putting the clothes on, the wolf found them to be a surprisingly accurate fit for him, though the t-shirt seemed to be quite tight, but from the looks of the design, that was intentional. Taking his sheathed katana with him as well as the keys he was given, Gareeku then headed out of the room.
"As if there was the need or the time..." Stygian replied to Mel, not stopping as he walked past her, still dragging the feline along like a sack of potatoes without any particular show of strain. He stepped up on the stairs before he turned his head to look back at her.
"Patch him up, so we can interrogate him. You can heal the bunny while we do," he said. To speak so brusquely, he had to be in a foul mood, though his face revealed little of anything such. He turned back just as quickly, and then made his way up to the tavern, the cat's shoes bumping over the steps after him. He did spare an odd look to Richard, who by all indications seemed to be interrogating a small feline girl, but hardly anything meaningful, opening the door and stepping in.
The bat passed the entry hall, and then stopped in the middle of the floor, gazing around as if searching for something. He looked decidedly odd standing as he did, before he took a seat in one of the chairs in the common room, waiting, all the while behaving absolutely plainly, as if he didn't have a limp man hanging in his hand. Occasionally, he moved his grip, or shifted his look elsewhere. Otherwise, there was no indication of any sort of activity from him.
After a while, a llama girl in a maid's outfit came scurrying down the stairs and went into the back. She was followed after a while by Gareeku, who had changed clothes, and Stygian looked up. He stretched his hand out and glanced over the keys, and the wolf threw them over. Catching them from the air, he looked to the cat in his hand, and then made a bit of a frown. Straightening, he then looked to the door, waiting for Mel to enter.
Mel nodded acknowledgement to Richard, both of his introduction and of his actions with the girl. Assuming that the rabbit would follow at her own speed Mel made her way back up the inn's stairs and inside where Ignatz was just getting keys from Gareeku. She followed him down the hall to a rather nice room. The unconscious feline was tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll. Mel immediately started work on healing lungs and other organs damaged by the shattered ribs, but she only partially healed the ribs themselves. Leaving them broken would keep him from getting too energetic during the interrogation. At the same time she was performing the healing Ignatz was searching the feline and muttering to himself. It sounded as if he was saying, ""Where are you, you little bastard? Come on... It's got to be there..." Mel managed to spare him a bit of a look as she concentrating on the healing. "What are you looking for?"
The prisoner lay unconscious, sprawled across the bed. His chest rose and fell with shallow but even breaths as Mel worked to repair his damaged organs. His ponytail had loosened. Locks of silky golden hair matted with blood and dirt fell across his face. The black feline sported boyishly handsome features and looked barely out of his teens.
His torn and battered suit, obviously custom work by a skilled tailor, offered no clues as to his identity or origin. It had no tags. The pockets were empty. No wallet, no ID, no cell phone, no keys, no hidden weapons of any kind... The feline was clearly traveling light. Aside from the golden rings in his ear and the band around his tail, he wore no jewelry, either. Not even a watch.
Stygian didn't stop the search, just kept scanning the cat's body, occasionally running an outstretched hand close over his fur, his look irritated and his still black eyes narrowed.
"Don't want..." he began, then made a face and spoke back to Mel, still not taking his eyes off the feline. "I'm looking for an Aci. If I'm right, then this guy is a cubi. He was doing some tricks out there that didn't make much sense. Which fits cubi on the spot. And they always keep one close, presuming they've learned that portion at that accursed colle..."
He stopped abruptly. Then, without warning, he pushed the cat over sideways ungently. In a flash of a movement, he had grabbed his tail ring, and roughly pulled it off, clenching the little thing in his hand.
"Gotcha, you lousy little critter...!" he snarled, his claws extended and his grip tight. "Now, don't you dare try something, or I'll peel you to pieces, layer by layer. And you won't go back to your comfy little home dimension after that..."
The captive stirred as Stygian shoved him over to snatch his tail ring. He rolled back onto his back with a soft thud. Wincing, he let out a light groan. A small twitch in his fingers made its way up his arms to the rest of his body--as if he was trying to make sure that all of his parts were present and accounted for.
The feline's deep blue eyes blinked open and darted about, scanning his surroundings. They widened in horror as he watched Stygian yell at the ornate golden band. Gradually, his expression softened into a more of a bemused fascination.
"While I do appreciate that victors are entitled to spoils, would you please be gentler with that particular item?" His voice was weak but steady. "It's been in my family for years--priceless sentimental value, you understand."
However much the feline managed a good face, Stygian was pretty certain of his suspicions. And while keeping up the pretense was the cat's only option in a situation like this, presuming he wanted to last, the bat wasn't really in the mood. His face went expressionless, while his eyes locked on the cat with a dangerous gleam. Then, slowly, he stepped over to the side of the bed. Very quickly, he reached down and grabbed the man by the neck, jerking him up and pressing his thumb in under his larynx, squeezing his airway, not to shut it but to keep him from speaking and to give him a seriously uncomfortable sensation.
"Let's get one thing straight first of all, kitten," Stygian hissed into the feline's face. His breath smelled of blood, acerbic and metallic. "I'm a guy who usually tries to keep things nice and polite. 'S why I don't just let Mel here rip the information we need from your head. That and some technical issues." He wasn't too sure how she did with cubi minds after all. "But that means that I expect the same courtesy from you. And bullshitting me isn't going to help you a single step."
He stopped, and then didn't open his mouth again. Instead, he spoke out with his mind, piercing that dead blackness that had been there before. The words and thoughts that came through were dark, pained and twisted, distorted in some way that made them seem more like nightmares than thoughts, but fully recognizable.
"You practically gave yourself away out there. I know what you are. And I can smell your fear. So unless you want me to work these a bit more," he thought, and jabbed a finger into the cat's broken ribs, "I'd suggest you level with me."
Abruptly, the thoughts cut off as jaggedly as they had sounded, and Stygian let go of the feline's throat, moving back a bit. His hand was clenching harder on that golden band now, nearly starting to bend and crumple it. But his eyes were firmly on the cat, waiting for his response.
"Bye, honey, good luck!" Laurel Carver had called that morning when Kiri had started down the road. "Thanks!" Kiri had shouted over her shoulder, than began jogging.
"Kiwi! Kiwi!" Emi shouted, running up to her sister, a fox beside her. "Linda an' me are gonna play hide 'n seek, will you count?" The older feline shook her head. "Sorry, Emi. I'm going out. " Emi and Linda, the fox, hung their heads sadly. "Well, will you at least tell us if there are still hornets in the shed? I can't remember." "Nope," Was Kiri's reply. "chased 'em out last week. I have to go now, okay?" She started walking again. "Have fun!"
Kiri sighed as she remembered what happened earlier that day. For some reason, it felt like a long time ago. She looked at the baboon. "Um... are you done yet?"
The spell winked out, finished. "Yeah, I am. Sorry about that, had a rather paranoia-inducing day," with that Richard turned and went inside, "Hey, Mr. Mörkesorm, what was that about a free room? More to the point, which one?"
As the panthress stepped further into the inn, the scent of death on the wind outside started to wane until finally it was only present on her clothing. In the hall she paused for a moment, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed in thought.
Not for the first time that night, she wondered where everyone was set to go from their point. Soon enough the bodies will be discovered, there were just too many to try hiding...and Aisha in truth didn't want them to be hidden. It would be a message to anyone else coming after their particular group...deadly and forthright, penned in blood.
She sighed and would have continued walking, but heard as Stygian and Mel came walking back through. The felid's gaze curiously passed over them dismissively, as they seemed to not wish to linger...and she quirked an eyebrow at the prisoner they had with them, near as melanistic as herself. A smirk formed. Well. Right now we seem to have the better hand.
Letting them pass without a word, nor even a spare thought of curiosity, she pushed herself from the wall and started forward again, nodding to Gareeku upon passing him in his new attire. With another quick pause, she went to find the dragon owner. At least there was enough peace left to also get cleaned up.
"I wouldn't so loosely use the word 'free'," she joked, coming up behind Richard and facing Rauth as well with a polite nod. "Spare a room key for me as well?"
Having resorted to more magical means to slay her enemies, Keaton didn't have any unsavory stains of blood on her clothing or fur, for once, but she found that the entire experience left her exhausted. A remarkable accomplishment, since she didn't need to sleep. Her clothing probably needed a good washing, too, as it had been pelted with gobbets of debris and encrusted with dust and dirt. Still rotating her glasses in her grip, Keaton trudged up the stairs to the Dragon's Grin, trailing behind Aisha.
Stygian, Mel, and Gareeku had already left for their rooms, the former with the body of their shadowy attacker in his grasp. Richard was still talking with the youngster, hopefully persuading her to go elsewhere rather than remain in their company. If they were being targeted by assassins, then she would be in danger as well. Chances were, though, that he was reinforcing their safety by checking to make sure she didn't intend them harm. If she did, however, and he was going to make any movements to attack, Keaton probably would've interfered rather violently. Nobody was going to hurt any children when she was around.
Though that was a worst-case scenario. Logic speaking, it likely wouldn't happen.
"I need a key too," Keaton said to Rauth as she walked up beside Aisha. "Got one?"
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Your thoughts taste almost like his did.
The captive's face was a strange mix of pain and euphoria while Stygian tortured him. His eyes half closed in ecstasy as he fell to the floor. The feline pulled himself into a sitting position with his back resting against the bed. He clutched his injured chest with one hand and looked up at his captor.
His gaze slid down to focus on the object in the bat's hand. For several seconds, he stared silently. The golden tail ring melted in Stygian's hand, slipping through the bat's fingers like smoke.
"You're a big meanie! Jerk!"
The wisps of darkness began to coalesce in midair. The dark mist came alive, surrounded by an aura of rich indigo. Then it darted under the bed.
The feline sighed.
"You'll have to excuse my counterpart. A little too much excitement for one day..." He chuckled softly. A mistake. He started coughing up blood.
He wiped his mouth. "My name is Edge, by the way, not kitten. Please forgive me for not standing, but someone appears to have broken my ribs, and it's more comfortable down here." He smiled but didn't risk laughing at his own joke again.
"Now, presumably, you desire more from me than my charming personality and winning smile." His expression turned serious. "What do you want?"
The dragon looked down on Keaton and Aisha as they spoke to him from his position, leaning leniently on the wall in the common room, a distance that seemed much longer than it really was. But then, his arched neck might have had something to do with that too. He raised an eyebrow and looked a little surprised even. Needless to say, he was not completely used to customers being so forward to him, on account of how he looked for the moment. But, he did smile.
"I suppose that you want separate rooms, yes..." he said, and walked the short distance into the directly connected reception, moving behind the counter. Unhurriedly, he ticked a few marks in a little notebook and slipped out some keys, and then went back to the girls, handing them over in a huge palm.
"Now, mind that you should press your friends. I'm not going to be unpleasant about this. Really, I've seen worse, though not much. But don't think I'll let you walk out without paying for the fasade at least," he chuckled with a gentle smile, and then turned, calmly walking away down a corridor. "The restaurant is still open though, if you want anything. Just ask Charline or Charlize," he called back to them, before gliding out of sight.
- -
As the Aci seethed through his fingers, Stygian's hand dropped by his side again, and the scowl he had been wearing melted away into a much more calm expression. The cat had taken that hint. Though he was still smug like a... well, a cat. It was much less irritating when he didn't treat them like idiots though. Slowly, the bat moved to the side and sat down in a chair, sliding his arms out of his coatsleeves and hanging it behind him. His eyes still gleamed slightly, as if moonlight was caught in the black, from beneath his blond bangs.
"I didn't ask for your name, though it's nice to know. Mine, I think you've heard. Though you can call me Lucian. It's the real one, after all..." he murred in that signature smooth tone, his speech and temper having settled a bit.
"And regardless whether I'm a jerk, I am not going to let Mel heal your ribs. Yet." At least that should keep that smile off his face, whether if it suited him or not.
He paused, and settled back into his chair. How to approach the cat now? Letting him live was not at all out of the question; in fact, he hadn't done anything yet to warrant death. He was just another mercenary. But keeping him would give them some trouble. He didn't seem like the very faithful sort, and he really had no chance to harm the bat himself. But he was concerned for some of the others in the party. It might still all have been a trick. And the sensible thing was to let Mel do what she did best. However...
"I want the name of the one who hired you, and any information on where to find him. Even better, I want you to help us get him, or her." That should put some hope in him. He'd be kept alive, and he would be valuable for some time. Enough that they might even 'forget' their quarrel with him. It was for appearances, really. But it did work out. And so long as they could keep an eye on him, not to mention so long as Stygian could be rid of his Aci at the snap of a finger...
"There's not much money in it, but more than there is in a failed mission and dying. And you'll get your ribs back in pristine order." He leaned forward, and this time there was a smirk on his face. One that made his sharp features seem even more predatory, especially with those fangs showing slightly under his lip.
"I might even not tell the others what you are and not give them a reason to cut you to pieces. Sounds like a fair deal?"
"Um... okay..."
Almost forgetting why she came to the inn in the first place, Kiri walked inside and walked up to the dragon owner. "Er... as weird as it sounds to ask this right now, I think I heard somewhere that you had a job opening here..."
Gods, that sounded stupid.
"A real name... I had one of those once. At least, I thought I did..." Edge sounded wistful. He didn't seem to be talking to anyone in particular.
His attention returned to the bat.
"Do I really strike you as the type who would betray a contract or backstab an employer?" The jaguar frowned and shook his head.
"Anyway, I believe you misunderstand the situation, Lucian. You're an evil dark mage credited with countless atrocities, you have a price on your head that could feed whole families for years, and--worst of all--you have a rather poor sense of humour." The twinkle in his eye returned. "Honestly, bounty hunters were lining up to take you out. I received a tip and met with two of them at a club downtown. A local businessman offered the muscle to keep your associates occupied and even threw in a small bonus pool of his own to supplement the bounty. My relationship with them was informal at best. Indeed, it was a continual reminder of the benefits of working alone. That hotheaded alligator turned a simple snatch and grab at the bar into a blazing inferno, a chase halfway across town, and a mad free-for-all in the woods."
The bounty hunter sighed and spread his hands. "And so here we are. I'm obviously no longer in a position to collect your bounty." He looked around. "Should I assume that the others are already dead or elsewhere receiving similar offers from your colleagues?"
The dragon's gaze dropped even further as he stopped to look at Kiri walking up to him. It was almost so that he pondered making his anthromorphized form even smaller, just so he wouldn't seem to tower
quite as much as he did at the moment. When she asked her question, he raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I do have a position that needs filling in the reception... however, don't you think you're a little too young to work here, miss? I'm not implying anything, but trying somewhere more 'close to home' might be beneficial..."
The dragon looked pondering for a while, and then sat down on his haunches, so that his face ended up precisely level with the little feline's.
"I wouldn't have anything against you helping me with tending to these customers for just a bit though. I have a few calls I have to make, and I think that both Liz and Line would be thankful for the assistance. And so I can see just how well you would do to work here."
The hyena passed the both of them, holding a very big broom and a shovel, and making her way out onto the porch and walkway. Both the reception and the common room and restaurant were empty, save for the people standing around.
- -
Stygian tilted his head, and looked at Edge sideways, unreadably. He didn't say anything for a short while.
"We didn't... Ah, well. I guess we did kill everyone," he said, and looked a little amused.
"But don't credit me with that. Were I alone, you would never have found me in the first place. And I don't kill menial soldiers for no reason. That, you can blame on the bunny and your 'friend', the alligator. Which brings us to the next point..." It was what he had pondered so far. The 'coincidence' of it all. Why they had all been gathered in one place. Why someone would throw dozens of ill-paid bounty hunters on them rather than hire a single professional. Why anyone would know he was around and be after him at all. It was all too damn suspicious. And the cat wasn't making it any better with his sullen attitude.
"You think that this all seems normal? You are lucky to be alive. Whoever threw you at us did so knowing that you would all be walking into a deathtrap, seeing as he knows me. If he wanted us dead, he would have seen the job properly and discretely over with." He smirked, gently but meaningfully.
"I think you were being used." Again, Stygian leaned back, and this time he looked both amused and pleased, his features easily displaying their handsomeness now that he wasn't snarling or grinning. He leaned his head into his large palm, and looked directly into Edge's eyes, his gaze as cold and deep as it was dark.
"You know what you strike me as? Just the kind of fool who thinks that so long as he won't get caught, he can go around doing whatever he wishes. Cubi in a nutshell. And not a particularly funny one; just pleasant to look at like this. It's why I haven't laughed yet." His bounties were as old as his reputation too, he hoped that the feline saw.
"You don't seem an idiot though, bad taste aside. So between a callous businessman who used you as an expendable tool, and a dark mage who actually has need of you, who do you trust more?" The bat's smirk deepened. He didn't find the
whole of the situation amusing, but he had laid his words right, and if they struck home...
After listening to the impressive dragon's statement, Aisha chuckled lightly and took one of the keys from his open palm with a nod of thanks. "The hospitality is much appreciated. Nobody shall forget their debt." At least I won't, she silently added, flicking the key in the air once and catching it again.
Watching the creature leave, she thought for a moment on getting some food from the restaurant, and then shrugged. After that whole ordeal, the panthress hadn't much of an appetite at all. Or at least, if she had a hope of getting it back, this horrid scent had to be removed from embedding itself in her nostrils.
She nodded briefly to Keaton, then started up a nearby set of stairs to where the rooms were to try her key on the unoccupied doors. Aisha didn't have too long to look, as the nearest door opened to quiet surroundings and a window opening to a view of the sea. Closing the door behind her, she couldn't help but stare out of it in slight awe at the appearance. It was the first sign of any true peace, however symbolic, that Aisha had seen for that night. Ending up alive to see something that uplifting was nothing short of a blessing.
She untied her cape and the golden collar which gave it the chameleon-like enchantment, turning the fabric back to its trademark crimson color, and placed them upon the bed along with the rest of her dark clothing, made darker by the stains and sliced up so much that it would take a few moments to mend.
I might need some good pieces of armor at one point. With a shake of her head, she stepped into the room's shower, just as she heard someone come in and announce they were taking her clothes to be washed. Aisha simply dismissed them and, with the flow of water from the shower head, started to drain all evidence that she had been involved in a most gruesome battle away from herself.
Richard grabbed up a room key and smirked at Aisha's comment, "Free enough for me; I'm not the one footing the bill. By the way, Miss?" he signaled to catch the passing Hyena's attention, seeing as the dragon was otherwise occupied, "I don't suppose there's a sewing kit, some formaldehyde, some cloth and perhaps a thing of duct tape lying around that I could use?" He probably wasn't going to get the chance to go home for a while, meaning it was time to make a few repairs.
"I'm fifteen years old, I think that's old enough to work." Kiri replied. She really hated being short. "And my family needs all the help we can get, so I'd be very grateful for a job!" She looked up at the dragon pleadingly (straining her neck a bit in the process). "Please?"
"Thanks," Keaton said openly to the dragon as she accepted her respective key from his palm with her free hand. "I owe you big for this one."
Juggling the key slightly, Keaton nodded her head gratefully and turned around on her heel, mace hefted to her shoulder. As the dragon left Keaton contemplated what to do. Not needing to eat or sleep, she probably just needed something to pass the time with. Maybe she could try and go to bed later after she took a nice, long shower...
Having decided on her course of action, Keaton ambled up the stairs somewhere behind Aisha, separating from her and walking to what she assumed was her door, passing a few maids on the way there. A quick glance to the number emblazoned on the key confirmed that it was indeed her room. Opening the door, Keaton entered, quickly shutting it behind her and leaning her mace against the wall. Her jacket soon followed, boots kicked into the corner, along with the rest of her clothes into the hamper, and wasting no time, she turned on the hot water for the shower and climbed inside.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
When the feline had thrown himself to the floor Mel had stayed behind him, out of sight, out of mind while the two males verbally danced. She sat on the desk, kicking her feet and looking nonthreatening until finally she could see that the cubi was too set on his fate to listen. "You must have one heck of a sense of humor, cubi-kitten, to be able to laugh at the setup you walked into. Pure murder on your boss's part. I'd be wanting to get some revenge if it was me." She smiled at Edge and offered, "Sometimes it's unavoidable to end up being a tool but the smart kitten at least chooses to be the tool of people who can advance his needs at the same time."
The panther rolled his head back, unable to suppress his hollow laughter. Tears rolled down his cheeks with the jolt of pain accompanying every heave of his chest.
"Yes, of course. That would appear to be my lot, wouldn't it? But a pawn with the privilege of deciding which master will sacrifice him..." He sighed. "The Fates must be standing around their scrying pool laughing at me. Why not laugh with them?" He made a warding gesture with his hand. The room was eerily quiet until he resumed speaking.
"I was watching you at the bar." His gaze returned to his captor, suddenly serious. "Many of your unusually skilled associates did not even care to shield their thoughts while they drowned the day's sorrows away. They were not expecting you any more than we were expecting them. If--as you suggest--tonight's entertainment represented more than a botched meat job, then its architect is already several steps ahead of you. A smart kitten might think twice about crossing him."
Edge carefully pulled himself up off the floor and settled down on the side of the bed, where he would be eye level with Stygian.
"And yet, I am now your best--only--link back to him until he strikes again. Perhaps you could extract something useful without my consent. Perhaps not. My mind is not a safe place for the sane to venture." He grinned knowingly. "Coming to a less painful arrangement would benefit us both."
He leaned forward slightly with his elbows resting on his thighs.
"If it is my trust you wish to earn, however, you will need to offer more than broken ribs and threats against my familiar." He cocked his head and pondered for a few seconds. "Back in the woods, you displayed an uncanny facility for tracking me. Reveal to me how you accomplished that feat, and I will deliver you the callous businessman. Quid pro quo, Lucian. What do you say?"
Stygian was a bit taken aback by the cat's sudden laugh. But when he saw the gleam in his eye, and felt the actual smell of amusement, and heard the cat's train of thought, his smile came back for a moment. He didn't mind that Edge had warded the room from sound - frankly, he had thought of doing so from the start, to see if the tavern had been shielded from that sort of minor magic as well. It seemed that it had not been. Another thing to mind.
"I shouldn't say that we're that dependant on you. Mel was so kind as to find us a starter lead. But still..." he said, tilting his head in his hand and almost absently looking to the roof for a bit. Not to mention that he could be gone in an eyeblink. "If we presume he is that many steps ahead, which we do, then catching up with him faster might be vital. So you do have a point, kitty."
Pondering the situation, and what the jaguar had demanded, Stygian hummed for a second, and nodded thoughtfully. Trust, he probably wouldn't gain from this one anyhow. But a sort of respect was already there, even if not for anything but his power, he guessed. The cat was trying to be clever, and that sort of comment would be meant for three things; to flatter him, to gain more power, and perhaps even more to gain knowledge about him. It wasn't a bad deal, but if there was to be any question of a deal in the first place, he had to make sure...
Slowly, a grin spread across the bat's face, and his gaze lowered to face Edge's head on. His look could have made a demon shiver.
"As much as I'd like to test... You really shouldn't press me there; sanity is not in my reputation," he said, just a bit distractedly. "And I'd have to hold your Warp Aci in custody, just for insurance." Then, if it was even possible, his dark gaze intensified even more. His voice was a low murr, smooth and murky.
"If you help us get to the bottom of this... I'll promise to teach you things that'll make your skin crawl."
Oh? Is mind-reading also among your many talents?
The feline nodded. He leaned back slightly and patted the bed. "Come on out, Ky."
The mass of glimmering darkness emerged from under the bed, revealing its true form for the first time. The Warp-Aci resembled an impish kitten with large, liquid eyes and a pair of tiny wings protruding from its back. A mysterious symbol--suggestive of a blade-fingered chiropteran wing or, perhaps, an evil eye--adorned its forehead, shimmering with deep blue-violet foxfire like the rest of its body. A long, sharp tail trailed behind it like a ribbon as it zipped anxiously through the air.
"You can't seriously be considering handing me over to that guy. He was trying to kill us not ten minutes ago!"
"Now, Ky, I'm sure you'll be safe with Lucian." Edge cast a quick glance over at the bat. "We'll be on the same team, after all."
"But we're a team. You need me out there watching your back!"
The panther sighed. "I think I can survive a little business meeting without you, Ky. Besides, this inn probably has net access. You could play that silly Creature Conflict game all day while I'm gone."
"Ch-Yah! Creature Conflict is not a silly game! It's the finest adventuring simulation since Demon Rampage V! You have no appreciation for..."
Edge cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.
"Fine. Go do your thing." The Warp-Aci waved him off in a huff. "Just don't come crying home when you get into trouble without me." It crossed its little arms and turned its back to everyone else in the room.
"Don't worry. It'll be fine."
The dark jaguar leaned towards Stygian with fingers tented and got down to business at last.
"The man called himself Roth Starr. Friend of yours?"
Stygian raised an eyebrow at the name but offered no comment. The bat remained silent, although his expression grew darker and more pensive. His smile vanished. An air of gloom hung around the room.
Edge continued: "No history of rampages, no eating anyone I know... I'd say he was pretty clean for a Demon that old. A little too clean. He's using an alias or likes to keep his paper trails very tidy. Then again, who doesn't?" He shrugged. "My due diligence on prospective employers doesn't usually extend to poking into their private lives.
"I'm supposed to meet him back at his club--the Red Sands--with proof of kills or news of failure. If your theory is correct, he won't be expecting to see me. That could be... interesting."
Only when Edge uttered his last words did Stygian look up at him. Now, he was scowling, but his look was a whole lot more businesslike than fearsome for a change.
"You're not going there alone," he said, very finitely.
"And not tonight. If I'm right, and I know I am, then we have nothing to rush for." Against all sense as that was, it was still true. Three names, all pointing in the same direction. Also, it had been a judge in the first case, and then a nightclub. Together, all those things pointed in one direction. And he certainly didn't like it.
The bat stood up, and looked toward the little Warp Aci, still floating in the air. He raised his hand slightly, and flicked a finger, and with a little yelp the creature was tugged back somehow, spinning through the air until it came to an abrupt halt beside him. There was something holding it now, as if some unseen force had tightened around it, not keeping it from moving, but still...
"Please heal him, Mel. He's free to go now, if he wishes," he said, tonelessly, and then looked to the feline on the bed.
"You've paid up. I won't be telling the others about you. Though, were I you, I would make sure not to upset them. Especially not the panthress." As much as Aisha disliked demons, she didn't seem too amused with cubi either. And that tailring and bracer would get him in no time, careless as he seemed.
"Come, Ky. I think that we should leave here. It's Gareeku's room, after all," Stygian said, and then calmly walked out, heading downstairs.
- -
The dragon kept a friendly smile as he looked at the cat, really a kitten still, and motioned his hands a bit in an aversive gesture.
"I didn't mean to offend, little lady. But we're really not in any
desperate need of work right now. I'm sorry to hear about your family, but..."
The dragon stopped, and looked both pensive and apologetic for a second. Then he leaned forward just a bit.
"Look, I'd hate to hire you on provision. And I wouldn't want a sweet girl like you to walk away disappointed. So, if you help me with this, I promise that I will consider it very much. And I think that I could pitch in some help for your family too." After all, he had much time and money to spare. And even if busy right now, he could always help on the side. "But I just can't make any promises right away."
Stygian passed them, walking down the hall, and the dragon stood up, giving him a glance and then returning to Kiri.
"Sorry, but that's just how it works, sweetie."
Having taken a seat on the steps outside of the inn's front door, Gareeku looked around at the sea of bodies below with a somewhat emotionless expression on his face. Looking up at the sky momentarily, the wolf knew that the one who had been captured was being interrogated. Hoping that it wouldn't take too long, Gareeku looked back at the sea of bodies, his eyes narrowing slightly at the thought of the way he had become in the midst of battle.
Edge watched Stygian leave with his Warp-Aci in tow--and without providing any further explanations. He turned to the snow leopardess on the desk.
"Thank you for healing me, Lady Mel. I suppose I'll have to stick around until Lucian decides to tell us what's going on." The jaguar sighed. "He did confiscate my transportation, after all. Anyway... since we're all friends now, please allow me to make your task simpler."
He slipped out of his torn jacket and then simply ripped off the tattered shirt underneath. A large pair of wings sprouted from his back in an instant. At first glance, they appeared to be the wings of an Angel, with iridescent sapphire plumage that shimmered in the soft light of the room. However, the bone structure of a Demon's wing was clearly visible underneath. In fact, his right wing looked like someone had rent the flesh right off and stripped the tips of two fingers nearly down to the bone. Both wings displayed evidence of injury, however, with broken feathers and bruising present all along the edges.
The dark feline offered a sheepish grin. "It's not quite as painful as it looks."
+ + +
As it didn't appear to have any choice in the matter, Ky simply allowed the unseen force to tug it along behind Stygian. It reclined with its arms still crossed and a sullen expression on its face.
Halfway down the stairs, it morphed into a shiny purple balloon with a frowny face design. Attached to the string was a little sign with the word "HOSTAGE" printed on it in large block letters.
The door to Aisha's room opened after a while, admitting the panthress out into the hallway with a tired stretch, dressed the casual attire that had been left for her upon coming out of the shower. It consisted of a pair of black trousers, a gold-colored shirt, and a dark red vest to wear over it, which was left open in the front. She had kept her enchanted tail ring on however, as well as the softly glowing bracer upon her right wrist. However peaceful things seemed to be now, Aisha knew better than to trust that it couldn't be ruined.
She paused in the hallway however, just noticing that the bat had gone for the stairs and keeping what she seemed to recognize as a very disgruntled Warp-Aci in tow. Aisha just shook her head with a slight smirk as she started down the hallway as well. Another 'Cubi among us. What next? I feel like the only Being in this interesting crew. It was decided that she wouldn't question things. Best not to if a hostage was involved.
Walking down, the panthress tried to gauge just how tired she actually was. The time of day was most certainly late, and the building was virtually empty. Whatever voices she could discern from her position were pretty much all familiar, those who were still inside. In a way as well, the thought of the group having scattered wasn't all too comforting. She couldn't get the previous battle out of her head...was the group really feeling so secure? Or was she just a little too jumpy? It was hard to know which to accept.
After a pause, Aisha made her way back to the restaurant. Perhaps some had gathered there, perhaps not...but it was never wise to sleep with an empty stomach.
Mel smiled and with an agreeable nod of her head hopped off the desk. "Why don't we start with those ribs?" Cool fingertips moved up and down the ribs, pausing longer where she found internal damage she had either missed earlier or was new from his fall to the floor. Once satisfied with that healing she moved to the wings. "I've never worked on cubi wings before, so if I go horribly wrong you'll have to tell me." Her chill hands gently straightened feathers and urged flesh to regrow and bruising to subside. After a bit she stood back. "That should be it, unless you can sense I missed something. Otherwise we should give Gareeku his room back."
The night breeze on the balcony felt delightful. Coat whipping behind him, Cog stared out at the night forest from high atop the inn, enjoying the wind. Gazing out from that high might be dangerous, considering what might be hunting them, but he was hardly worried. To his eyes, he could see quite well in the darkness, even from behind shaded lenses.
He'd always enjoyed the wind. He stood there for some time before returning inside. His face was slightly nonplussed - he'd have stayed longer, but the wind carried a strange chill to it here.
He returned to his room and began to ready himself for sleep, placing the sword carefully by his bed and disrobing. It wasn't long before he found himself drifting off into a light sleep, and dreaming of places far-off and long gone...
So the little thing didn't choose to hide? Well, at least it was pretty amusing. It was a strange sort of humor, but not a twisted one. And he could appreciate it. Though plainly, he would have thought it more convenient if the little thing had just chosen to hide instead. He had never considered getting a familiar for himself, simply because it seemed more of a hassle than anything.
While the others seemed to have made their way elsewhere, even the staff as he didn't catch any more maids scurrying around or movement in the other rooms, a few were still about, most notably Aisha, who passed him and headed into the restaurant and cafeteria. He himself walked by the reception and picked up a key, still catching evil eyes from the disgruntled hyena as she came in and tromped into the back. He kept a level face as if nothing was wrong, and just for the sake of it, he fished a twenty out of his pocket and tucked it under the bell on the counter. It was really the only way to get on a woman's good side; keep treating them nicely, no matter how much they looked down on you. Even then, one couldn't be certain they would turn around, but at least they wouldn't have a reason to glare. Then, it was all up to how they felt.
Still ignoring Ky as he floated behind him, Stygian turned and calmly walked toward the cafeteria, lazily looking around. Aisha was there, and a llama girl was fussing around behind the counter, but otherwise the place was just an empty view out over the sea. The silhouette of a lighthouse was a pinprick in the distance, the spinning light at the top flickering every now and then, and the frothing waves were nearly soundless against the shore below, their rolling shut out by walls and windows. But with his hearing, the bat could still hear a sort of breathing sound from the wind in the ventilation, and a whirling sound from the fireplace, even though the large chimney was probably shut. His steps heavy but silent, he walked over to the counter and spoke to the llama.
"I'd like a steak, if you have. As bloody as you can get it," he said, not minding the way she shied away from his gaze. "Some plain salad with that would be wonderful. And a glass of red, please." Then, he strolled over to a table, and eased himself into a chair, sighing and taking in the smells and sounds with closed eyes for a little bit. For just a moment, he let his senses focus on the panthress. Then he turned them, and his gaze, toward the sea instead.
"So. Was he telling me the truth up there?" he said, low and calmly. "Hey, I'm talking to you." He tugged the string of the 'balloon' over his shoulder, and brought it down to head level instead. "I'm used to working with difficult people, but the unpredictable ones still put me off. And if you don't mind, I'd say you've got your head on straighter than he has."
Vaporous plumes of steam exuded into the air as the bathroom door swung open, a silhouette draped in a pair of overly fluffy, velvety towels--one around her shoulders, the other binding her waist--striding across the polished wooden floors. Wet outlines of sable-splotched feet marked the figure's passage as she unceremoniously and carelessly flung the clothing she was grasping in her free hand (the opposite one was securing the towel looped 'round her waist) onto the spacious bed occupying the room.
Five minutes later Keaton was completely garbed in her previous apparel of lace-up armguards, jeans slit up the sides and kept laced together with crisscrossing bands of leather, a black shirt, and a jacket. Her wings remained fully blended into her body, along with her head-wings. Stretching her arms languidly over her head, she reached into her pocket and fished out an opalescent marble, then collapsed back on the bed, one arm folded behind her head and the other rolling the marble between her fingers, brown eyes half-lidded and lazy. Not from exhaustion, but from boredom.
Watching the orange light slide and dance off of the iridescent colors curling within the glassy globe.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Richard, somewhat miffed at his questions being ignored, hobbled upstairs and found his way over to his room for the night. A bit of poking around yielded a sewing kit that some previous patron had probably forgotten. He sat down on the bed and got to work on stitching himself up and making other repairs to hold his broken ribs and leg in place until he could get some calcium-based cement to fix them properly, grumbling to himself all the while. He usually didn't do this himself; it was a bit tougher than Marya made it look.
Edge got up and stretched out his wings one at a time to inspect Mel's work. With the damage repaired, elaborate violet markings showed up against the richer blue base of the feathers.
"You did an excellent job, thank you." He nodded his approval. "That's quite a talent you have."
He folded his wings around himself, and they melted into his body. A handsome young fox stood where the jaguar had been only moments earlier. The glossy raven black of his fur hadn't changed, and his eyes were as blue as ever. The bounty hunter's disheveled golden ponytail had been replaced with a shorter, more youthful and messier cut. The new form presented an interesting dichotomy: It was both distinctively "Edge" and an obviously different being at the same time.
"Whatever Lucian has planned, it wouldn't do for me to wander around with you in the skin of the man sent to kill him."
The vulpine Edge remained barechested, but his ruined trousers were pressed and pristine. A pair of comfortable sandals replaced his shoes. He picked his shredded shirt and jacket up off the bed, frowning critically as he turned them over. He bunched them together and began weaving them in mid-air with magically glowing fingers. Finished, he held up a purple polo shirt made from a soft, silky material. He pulled it over his head and tucked it in. The fitted shirt left little of his hard musculature to the imagination.
"There. That should do it. Let's head down, then. I'll treat you to--" His mouth hung open for a second before lifting into an apologetic smile. "Oh, right. Ky still has my wallet."
+ + +
The eyes on the balloon narrowed somewhat. Then it burst with soft pop, and streams of dark mist swirled down to the table. When they reformed, a small vampire bat sat before Stygian. The tiny critter--almost a caricature of the larger chiropteran with colours reversed--glared up at him with beady white eyes.
"Think what you will of my master, but he's no fool. And he only speaks the truth."It leaned back against a salt shaker.
"The look on your face up there said that you knew exactly who and what he was talking about, too. So, the real question is: Are you planning on letting us know what all this fuss is about, or will you also be--how did you put it?--sending him into a deathtrap?"
Not yet having taken Aisha's order, the serving maid scurried into the back and did something, and then peered out from the door every once in a while with some regularity. The kitchen hadn't been closed, but she was the only one there, so probably it would take a while to prepare things.
Stygian only raised an eyebrow when the little creature shifted form and retorted, with what he perceived as at least a bit of feistiness. Not too much, certainly not, but enough to make a point and to amuse. A slight smile spread over his face as he looked down on the thing, the tips of his fangs hinting under his lips.
"I don't think him a fool. I think him a very odd and skewed case though, judging from his sense of humor. Now, maybe that's throwing stones in glass houses, but still..." he said, making a decidedly odd figure of speech. "And I didn't promise to keep him safe and sound, now did I? I didn't even specify what I was going to teach him," he murred, folding his arms and leaning on them, looking at the little creature more closely. He chuckled, and then his face smoothed out.
"This situation is probably altogether deadly," he muttered, turning his gaze out through the windows, over the sea. "So making a promise like that would have been foolish. What had you expected? No. However, sending him into that deathtrap would be completely useless, and if I want to see..."
He stopped, and just looked for a few moments, then turned back to the little bat before him.
"But that's not what you were asking," he murred, smirking now. "I will teach him something before we part. And I will make his skin crawl. And I certainly don't waste anything on someone about to die in short time." After all, even as he were, the man was still intriguing in a way. And there was no telling how useful he could become later.
Kiri felt her heart sink at the dragons words. So much for that job. Her ears pricked up when the dragon told her that he needed help with something. "I'd be happy to help. Whatever you need." Please please please be something I can do...
Mel smiled, "I think I can pay. I haven't abused my expense account in a couple of centuries." She left Gareeku's room and descended the stairs to the lobby. Seeing no one behind the desk to ask about rooms she headed straight for the restaurant. It was empty but for Ignatz at one table and Aisha at another. There appeared to be no one around to seat people or take orders. "Is this place abandoned?"
As Aisha walked into the restaurant, her steps were slow and for once not altogether rushed. The place as she expected was certainly empty, save for the last employee hanging back and looking as if bored or exasperated perhaps...at least from where she stood. I guess we were an unexpected bunch, she thought to herself with a shake of her head.
The panthress took a table at random, crossing her arms in front of herself and staring blankly through the dark windows while the waitress went off to prepare things. She hadn't noticed until she actually sat down that Stygian and what she assumed to be the Warp-Aci were at a table nearby. All she gave them was a simple glance and nothing more. She still remembered the bounty on his own head, and wondered if that was one more reason to not be able to sleep.
As she awaited the waitress's return, not exactly in a hurry to eat anyway, Aisha considered what she felt like eating. Something with plenty of meat in it, that was for sure...but her concentration was interrupted the minute that she heard Mel appear in the room and inquire about the state of the restaurant. Considering previous events she may not have thought them both the best company. But there was little room in her mind for loathing at that hour.
"If it was, they might have chased us out by now," Aisha joked and gave a friendly wave, though the question might not have been directed at herself. That was when she also waved the waitress over. "Roast turkey, with plenty of rice on the side, if you please," she finished. Meat wasn't everything after all.
Placing his hand on her shoulder, Rauth looked gently at Kiri and spoke in a tender, considerate voice.
"I want you to take care of these unfortunate customers here. Right now, that means helping Charline in the kitchen. Can you do that for me, and I'll think of an offer for you, okay?" he said, and straightened, returning to looking down at her from high above, his frills almost touching the ceiling beams.
- -
The llama nodded to Aisha's request and then looked to Mel, visibly tense to get back in the kitchen but patiently waiting for her order. She was smoothing her skirts with her hands though, even though there was no need to, a sign perhaps of some hidden consternation with having them as guests.
Mel gave her order to a nervous looking llama and chose a table. Actually she wasn't surprised that the help was either in hiding or nervous, it wasn't every night you lost your front yard to a magic battle. If it wasn't for the owner wanting reparations they probably would have been chased off the property immediately, even though they were only indirectly responsible. She took off her long suede coat and slung it over the back of her chair before sitting. Too bad she wasn't in her natural form or she would have seen if any dragon favorites were on the menu.
The black fox strolled into the restaurant after Mel. He settled down into a chair opposite her and gazed wistfully out to sea.
"You know... apart from all the blood and violence, it's quite a nice night out. Back in my younger days, I'd sit out under a moon just like this one and listen to the surf with a fine rum in one hand and a fine girl in the other."
He grinned and glanced back to Mel. "A horribly misspent youth, I assure you."
+ + +
Another small bat fluttered down to Stygian's table. This one also had dark fur, but it sported a mop of short blond hair on its head and brilliant blue eyes. It landed next to Ky.
"It's nice to see you two getting along." The voice was Edge's. "I would have thought that Lucian would ask you to hide, but this is cute, too."
The white-eyed bat glared daggers at him.
"Anyways..." The blue-eyed bat held out a wing.
Some unspoken communication passed between the two. The chiropteran Ky rolled its eyes. It traced a line across the air and a patch of impenetrable blackness appeared, ringed by sizzling indigo energy. It reached inside and withdrew a black leather billfold, which it handed to its partner. The rift vanished.
"See? You're helpless without me!"
Stygian looked down upon the two little critters with a boorish expression. He was aware that bats were supposed to be small animals, and that he was an exception to the rule, but now those two were pushing toward the edge of being funny.
"That's very cute. Are you done yet?" he said, and was then interrupted as his meal arrived. The steak he had ordered was grilled, but just barely, which was excellent, and served with a plain salad and some feta cheese. A nice choice altogether.
"Leave the bottle here, please," he said as the llama poured the wine into his glass. Before she could leave, he slipped her a rather large bill. "And keep the change." Another courtesy that would smooth things out. Besides, he didn't really need to be tight with money.
In short order, Mel's and Aisha's orders were out too, and the llama returned to watching. Stygian ate his meat in a tidy fashion, though still somehow a bit discomforting. It was just the way he seemed to enjoy sucking out the taste of blood. Or perhaps it was the teeth. Quite soon though, he was finished and sipping his wine, sitting back and murring pleasantly.
"Think we should either plan tomorrow, or get to bed. Not really certain which..." he said, leaning on the table and apparrently studying the candle on it without any real interest.
Richard had no illusions about his ability to repair himself. Thus, it would be easy to notice him favoring one leg as he returned down the stairs. He neither slept nor really needed the room for anything other than privacy; nobody wants to see an undead stitching himself up. The handful of magical repairs he knew how to use were also not to be completely trusted, but he figured it was what he had. He decided to head to the cafeteria, on the basis that everyone else seemed to have already had that idea and if, by some blip on the far curve of probability, this place had meals catered to the undead he could enjoy himself a bit.
Naturally, the talking feral bats caught his eye.
"... Not gonna ask. So, how'd things go with the jaguar?" Richard willed himself to look away from the oddity and ask Stygian, "Guy looked almost worse than me when you carried him in."
Mel finished her tuna steak dinner in silence, enjoying the view from the bank of windows. The cubi, Edge, had entertained her for a while then flitted away as a little bat to Ignatz's table. Ignatz did not seem impressed. She wondered if he was one of those cubi who would give her a problem if he found out her race. He hadn't met the inn's owner yet, so she'd see how he reacted to Mr. Morkesorm. She was just pushing the plate away when she heard Ignatz give the option of discussing the next step now or in the morning. She crossed the space from her table to his. "I'd prefer to hear it now."
When adressed, Stygian turned his head slowly, first toward Richard and then Mel. He took a bit of a sip of his wine, keeping silent for a few moments. Then he set the glass down and leaned back in his seat.
"He's fine. Just fine. Which is more than can be said about you..." he said, setting his eyes on the baboon. Not that it was really possible to see where he was actually looking, with the both of them being all black, but... "Care to be rid of those stitches?" He wasn't too sure of how or why to explain what they were up against. But he had to be honest with them about the situation at hand, at least.
Richard looked down at the stitches. On the one hand, who doesn't want skilled repairs? On the other, he didn't know this guy too well and Marya was the only one who had ever repaired him. Bah, I can't very well go and see her about it tonight.
"Alright," the undead finally replied hesitantly, pulling up a chair next to Stygian, "But I don't want to find anything added or removed; I've seen too many people get stuck with messed up muscles because some necromancer was more exuberant than useful. The main damage is the ribs and leg. You need me to do anything? Make sure I'm not carrying cold iron, lie down, anything like that?"
Deciding that he had been outside for long enough, Gareeku walked back inside, making his way to where the others were dining. Sitting down at one of the tables, the wolf waited to be served by one of the waitresses.
Aisha nodded politely to the llama waitress as she brought her food. She was appreciative still of the hospitality at least, however uneasy it seemed. The panthress would make sure to leave a tip for later. She had enough coins to spare anyway...what she felt like most was just eating her food.
As she dug into the savory meat and the rice especially, Aisha watched with some relief as others started appearing in the restaurant. She glanced at Richard with a little amusement. The adventurer had never run into many undead, and if she did, they were never trouble to her despite the rumors. She wondered really how he could fit into the group.
Then she glanced up on seeing a few more wander in, among them a black fox and a bat, all soon converging on Stygian's table after Mel had. The panthress simply shook her head and continued her meal, though keeping an ear just slightly quirked to their conversation. She hoped that whatever would happen would wait until tomorrow at least.
The last individual she then spotted was Gareeku, whom she regarded with a nod from where she sat. Though still her friend, he was one of the more mysterious ones, now that she had time to think about the battle before. And a long time gone without a word...
Aisha allowed herself to finish her meal, then looked around for a moment. There was little for her to be involved in now (especially with much caution regarding Stygian still), and also little wish to fall asleep. With an inward shrug, she stood up and left payment and a tip on the table next to her empty plate, and strode over to the wolf's table.
"Waitress might take a minute, so I hope you don't mind my company, amigo," she chuckled and sat across from Gareeku, tilting her head. "You just looked a little pensive."
Immediately, the llama walked up neatly and tidily, up next to Gareeku and looked down at him.
"Umm... What can I get you, sir?" she said to the wolf, her hands folded together before her skirts. Both of her long ears were laid back over her head, together with her short, neatly cut hair, and a pair of small glasses adorned her pretty, though not quite beautiful face. Neat and tidy. Those seemed the perfect words to describe her, contrasting the hyena from before rather sharply, even if the both did wear the same outfit.
Stygian didn't wait or say anything, just reached out a hand and laid his fingertips on the baboon's chest. And something very odd happened. A feeling rushed through the undead, something that wasn't physical, but which he knew wasn't just a trick of his mind either. It was uncomfortable, and eerie, and pleasant all in the same. It was chill and discomfort, trickling into his mind along with some sort of darkness that made him feel burdened and gloomy, but at the same time... good, somehow, and stronger. And that was a very simple explanation of it all. For a moment, he could see something too, but it was too faint and passed too fast.
Quickly, the bat tapped Richard's leg too, and then turned back to his glass. The baboon couldn't really feel anything, but it wasn't imagination that he seemed somehow to stand straighter and more steadily. And a whole lot of that wear and tear from before seemed just to have vanished. In fact, he might even have passed for living, had it not been for the unnatural pallor of his skin and the raggedness of his looks overall.
"Ah, well... Now that people are here to hear, at least..." Stygian said. "We can tell the others later." He cleared his throat, and then settled with his hands folded before him.
"From the names and the name of the club, and judging from how this was all probably just a big distraction meant to convenience... It's clear that someone is trying to get our attention. My attention more than anyone else's, for the moment. Someone whom I know from way back." He made a short pause. "Her name is Astaroth. And I think she's set a trap for us all and we've sprung it. And we have no choice but to go right into it to have a chance to walk away alive."
Not a word of warning, nothing, the guy'd just reached out and suddenly he felt something. For a dead man this is strange to begin with. The feeling itself was a thing of paradoxes, both familiar and opposite unfamiliar sensations rushing into him as his ribs were repaired. There was less of a reaction for his leg, but still...
"Whuhh..." the baboon stood up, hearing the slight stretch and creak of newly repaired undead sinew, "That's not bad," he rolled his shoulders back and (had he a face that allowed for it would have) smiled at his voice being back to its usual rasp rather than that damaged gurgle, "That's not bad at all. Alright, not the previously mentioned type of necromancer. Been trying to fix whatever that was in my lower back that kept making that twanging noise whenever I leaned back for a while. Hell, this could last me all-"
Then Stygian mentioned traps, and charging into them, and an individual who could call up these sorts of forces for a mere distraction.
"-Week," Richard finished, slouching back to his usual posture and sitting back down, "If I'm lucky. There a reason she's pissed with you?"
"A few. Breaking her heart, killing her lifelong dream, leaving her in darkness and without the slightest hope..." Stygian counted off, rather indifferently, it seemed. "Of course, that's nothing compared to what she's done. And I did spare her life, for whatever that's worth." It had been a complicated situation, and in truth he would have killed her any other day. But again, his wanting to prove a point had ultimately proven a mistake.
"I won't blame you if you choose to take off, you know?" he said, now looking directly at Richard for a moment. "You for one still have a shot at getting out of this. As do you, Gareeku," He nodded to the wolf. "And you do too, Mel. You didn't come into this until after. And I doubt that Ash would have counted on me calling you up. She placed too many signs."
Mel shook her head. "If these ambushes were indeed a test then observers have already taken everyone's description back. I can easily shed this form and name but there is always a possibility of being traced. I don't want to find myself a loose end at some later date. As much as I hate this sort of thing I think I'd rather face it head on."
Waiting for a waitress to approach to take an order, Gareeku looked up to find that Aisha was taking a seat at the table he was sat at. Listening to Aisha speak, the wolf smirked slightly.
"Not at all." he replied, his voice low and calm. "Pensive...it's just who I am."
It was then that Gareeku looked to the side to find that a waitress had approached him.
"I'll have beef, with rice." the wolf replied in the same low and calm voice. The waitress would almost certainly take notice of the demonic eye that he possessed. The sight of it would no doubt send shivers up one's spine. Turning back to Aisha, the wolf smirked slightly once more. "I know what you're thinking. That I am different from before. Well I am. People change, Aisha. That's life."
It was then, however, that Gareeku heard another voice. Turning to the side, the wolf found himself being addressed by Stygian. Listening to what he said, Gareeku's facial expression was that of grim seriousness.
"I am not getting out of anything." the wolf replied. "Nobody threatens we without facing the consequences. Whoever is ultimately responsible for these attacks will pay."
As Aisha awaited Gareeku's reply, she leaned her arms comfortably at the table, though still keeping ears rather than eyes focused on the conversation taking place around Stygian. The eyes were on the wolf, watching his demeanor as he spoke to her, then to the waitress. She waited for her to leave, then listened to his words while taking note that she too recieved a shudder from seeing that eye.
"Your smirk didn't change," she smirked back and shrugged slightly. "You think I didn't know that? Life is nothing but change. But you certainly can't blame a feline for being curious of how you did," she chuckled. "Change or not, old friend, at least you're alive."
She put much meaning into that last word, for it was certain they all could remember back when that word could have meant nothing...
Suddenly she followed Gareeku's gaze to Stygian's table, also upon hearing the bat regard the wolf and the group in general about the option of leaving. Aisha quirked an eyebrow at that. For herself, she didn't seem to have a choice, unlike some of the others. But that was remedied...it was still her choice to keep going.
"Like their brothers and sisters with their blood painting the lawn outside, they shall pay indeed," Aisha said with a hint of danger in her voice and a glimmer in her crimson gaze. At this point and time she seemed to have lost her caution and could declare her opinion. The adventurers in the room were on the same side.
She glanced back towards Gareeku with a laugh. "Your determination didn't change, either."
Listening to Aisha's reply to what he said after he had spoken to Stygian, the smirk slowly diminished as he thought of what the feline had said.
"Yes...alive..." the wolf replied softly. "...How fortunate..."
Stygian regarded Mel's expression for a second. Firm and solid, just as he had expected. And as always, as cool as ice. Something to be appreciated, he guessed. The next few moments he spent his attention on Gareeku and Aisha, and their conversation, though his face didn't change, and if his eyes did move, it wasn't visible.
"Allright then. Maybe some of the others will have the sense to jump ship while they still can in the morning. For now..." he said, his fingers bunched and almost to his lips as he leaned forward. "For now, I think that I shall rest."
Slowly, he stood, slipping the cork for the bottle of wine in between his fingers and pressing it down a bit, and then took it. He looked around, and then set his gaze on Edge.
"Someone keep watch on him. And if you don't want to, send him up to my room. He won't run if he's too scared to move," he said, with the slightest bit of a smirk, and then walked off, heading for his room and bed.
The morning, Richard simply sat and thought. Should he stay, should he go? There were many reasons supporting either course of action, but which was actually a good idea? On the one hand, he wanted out before his name ended up on a hit list. On the other hand, it might already be there, which meant not seeing this through would put him and those around him in even greater danger.
"I'll keep an eye on him. Don't sleep anyway," the undead volunteered absently, half-lost in his own contemplations.
Mel tossed money on her table then wandered back to the reception desk to get a room. She hoped to find the owner and see if she could negotiate a deal on the room. She was trying to place his name, hoping it wasn't a family that Grandmother had a spat with. Not that she could keep up with the ever shifting ups and downs of the grand one and her relationships with other families. No one was in reception when she got there so she took a moment to look around. The building seemed built with taste and quality and to be well maintained. No wonder Mr. Morkesorm was a bit peeved to have his garden plowed up.
Once it became apparent that Mel preferred to eat her meals in silence, the black fox simply sat back to watch the sea, quietly sipping a mojito. Perks and twirls of his pointed ears betrayed his interest in the activity around him in the restaurant, however. The strange black-and-gold bat took off from Stygian's table with the wallet in its little claws and landed in his lap. Nobody saw anything further from it for the rest of the night.
When Mel returned from her conversation with Stygian to pay her bill, the vulpine Edge got up.
"Please. I did offer to treat you." He raised a hand and smiled. "I insist."
+ + +
Still in bat form, Ky flew after Stygian up to his room. In the absence of directions to the contrary, it located a comfortable perch to settle down for the night.
+ + +
After the others left, the fox sauntered over to the Undead, who had apparently volunteered to be his chaperone for the night.
"I don't believe we've had the pleasure." He extended a hand. "You can call me Edge. Your friend procured my services to... ah... help him get to the bottom of his little problem."
Richard extended one hand to the fox, "Richard. Lucky you; that friend procured my services by possibly involving me in his little problem," were it within his ability the undead's grin would widened marginally, "Nice to meetcha. So, I'm assuming you were amongst those involved in that fiasco outside?" Might as well learn something. Besides, might find out who was responsible for that damn arrow.
The fox wore a violet shirt and dark slacks--chic yet relaxed business casual with no visible weapons--but he had the poise and build of someone who knew how to handle himself in a fight.
"That's how it is, isn't it?" Edge chuckled. "To tell you the truth, I haven't had the chance to survey all the damage outside yet. He didn't bring me into the fold until after the fighting was over. I've had some past dealings with the man who hired those goons, you see." He leaned back against one of the tables. "But I suppose I didn't know quite what I was getting into, either. Callous businessmen are one thing. Women scorned are something else entirely."
He clapped his hands together. "Well, looks like we're stuck together for now. What say I buy you a drink before they close the bar?"
As Aisha heard Gareeku's soft reply to her words, she couldn't help but note the doubt in his tone, and it only made her all the more curious. The panther could only imagine what could have made his countenance so dark...but something told her that it was best left unknown for the time being.
She glanced back at Stygian as he spoke up again, and only gave him a curt nod as a farewell for the night, with a softer one for Mel as she too left. Aisha then felt a bit of relief as Richard volunteered to watch over the black fox, whom she presumed was their...prisoner of war, so to speak. Not that she counted their situation as a war...but at that time of night, a better term couldn't be thought of.
Once that was settled, she looked back to Gareeku again with a smile. "It is indeed fortunate. A chance at life--and especially one in which you have a greater degree of control, I'm guessing--is too precious still to be taken for something unfortunate. Take it from myself, yourself, and everyone else who sees death all too regularly," she finished with a sort of knowing sincerity.
After a moment, the panthress stood from the table, hiding a slight yawn behind her hand as she passed Gareeku and laid her hand on his shoulder. "I'll leave you to your meal, then. Night."
Starting towards the doors of the restaurant and trying to remember which room she had claimed, Aisha figured that perhaps sleep wouldn't be too difficult after all. At least she certainly hoped.
Richard's grin would have broadened. As it was, Edge's words seemed to have a noticably positive impact on a certain dead man's disposition, "I say 'yes, please.' Seems I'm meeting so many interesting people willing to keep me drunk. I should have gotten myself involved in the dealings of obviously dangerous thugs ages ago. As for the damage outside..." Richard shrugged, "People with firearms, irate spellcasters, and some bastard named Illat packing the apocalypse in a bottle, so the local real estate value's probably shot." A sudden look of dismay crossed the baboon's face, "Hope the car we took here isn't scrap, that'd be inconvenient."
Rauth was returning down the hallway where he had spoken to Kiri, when he looked up, or rather down, to see Mel walking toward him. Meeting her straight on, he noticed her gaze on him, and stopped.
"Yes? Was there something you wanted, miss?" he said, as gently as he had with Kiri. It seemed that was his way at all times. But he didn't exactly need a harsh tone to have a commanding presence.
- -
Stygian walked past doors, all of whom hid the entrance to rooms that he could feel anyway, heading into the left wing of the tavern. He passed a whisper of Keaton's unmistakeable scent, made clearer through moisture and warmth. Apparently she had taken a shower. Another, this one calmer and much cooler than the low, heated, almost boiling scent of the jackal, but with a different sort of edge to it, was much fainter from another door. He paid it no mind.
Almost at the end of the corridor, he found his room and slipped in. He would have showered, but saved that one for the morning instead. Setting his glass down, he slipped out a little notebook from his coat pocket, poured himself some more wine, took off the coat and shirt and reclined on the bed, getting ready for sleep, stretching his arms a bit every now and then.
Mel smiled up at the larger dragon and in her native tongue responded, "I was hoping to get a room as well as negotiate my part of the damages. Not that I'm responsible for anything but a bit of frost damage." She paused and smiled some more, "Of course the area I may have damaged was subsequently blown up, so I shouldn't owe much at all."
"Whose car was it?" Edge asked absently. "Ah... nevermind. I think that you'll find that dealing with dangerous people can be quite profitable. Or at least entertaining." He smirked. "And there won't be a shortage of booze. Come on. I'll bet that a nice inn like this one stocks the good imports."
The fox made his way over to the bar and a night of relaxed drinking.
Rauth smiled, and replied to Mel in turn, his voice a low murr.
"I think it's quite allright. And I know that you will be able to pay the bulk of the damage straight away. But let's leave some to your friends, allright? It's the principle that matters," he said, and chuckled. Discretely, he slipped his hand into his pocket, and then fished out a shiny silvery key attatched to a small metal clip with the room number on it. He took her hand, slipped it into it, gently closed it and then turned it over, kissing it.
"I will look forward to meeting you again, miss Icewing. Enjoy your stay," he practically purred. Then, he straightened with that same smile, and slid off, tail snaking behind him.
- -
The night passed quickly enough, though even if they had all gone to bed more or less early, they all seemed to sleep rather long as well, despite the sun inching over the horizon ever earlier as it was closing on summer. There was something with the wind and the sea air that just seemed so fresh and relaxing that it was impossible not to enjoy the early morning. The morning was cold, but not too cold, as even these lands were warmed by the sun, even if the ocean did not bring warmth until later in the year.
For Stygian's part, he slept in a bit as well, keeping the balcony door open to chill the room to perfection. After some pondering, he rolled over in the silky sheets, slowly inching out of them so as not to spoil the comfort of it, and then got out on the floor, closing the door, stretching and working out the stiffness in his limbs. A quick shower and some readying later, he got in order, still thinking about how well the evening before had turned out, in spite of things. He went out when the sun was already somewhat high, and slowly made his way down toward the restaurant.
As Stygian descended the stairs and entered the restaurant, he saw the black clad swordsman from earlier already sitting down and staring out at the dawn, a mug of something dark and steaming in his hand. He turned to regard the bat, and made a slight grin. "Morning, sunshine." he said, sipping his drink. He turned his attention back to the sun, already a little high in the air. He sat there quietly for a little while, drinking his coffee.
He seemed to murmur something under his breath, and then spoke again to the bat. "Coffee here is good, if you care for some." he said, suddenly standing. His cup was empty. As he returned to get a refill, he again regarded the bat. "I assume we figured out where we were going?"
The still vulpine Edge sat by the window, picking at a fruit plate and a sipping a mimosa to take the edge off the previous night's festivities. The black fox had exchanged his casual dress for a crisp, black-shirted white suit, ready to attack whatever business the day had to offer. He nodded to acknowledge Stygian's entry, then returned to his breakfast.
Walking over and leaning on the counter, Stygian squinted somewhat in the sunlight, his eyes somehow turning from the gleaming black of before into a rather normal dark bluish gray. He closed them and rubbed his temple a bit, shielding his face from the light for a bit and muttering something about polar opposites, before getting a cup for himself.
"We're going to a club. It's called the Red Sands," he said, after he'd filled his cup and added a hint of milk and sugar, lifting it to his lips and pinching his nostrils together against the vapors. "I hope you know how to handle yourself. And on the floor; not with a sword." He took a long draw and sighed, looking out against the beating waves and the nearly clear-blue horizon. Then, quickly, he turned and looked at the wolf, seriously but a little more pleasantly.
"That is, of course, if you are actually going. I won't say that it wouldn't be nice with a bit of backup in there, but if it's unneccessary to put anyone in danger, then..." he said, leaving the sentence unfinished, and returned to sipping his coffee.
Aisha awoke surprisingly peacefully the next morning, with the sunlight brightening the shadows of her eyelids and quickly warming her melanistic face. Her dreams had not been disturbing, nor were they even bordering on nightmares as what usually happened.
She blinked a few times to bring her vision back into focus, and laid eyes upon a room bathed in light and hope, as it at least seemed. The dawn rose over the ocean from her window's view in brilliant white-azure colors and a gentle-scented breeze.
The panthress's head hung in thought as she sat up and stretched. Contrary to her fears, her sleep had gone undisturbed, and she still had her life. Another night survived, another blessing to count.
With a yawn, she stood up and dressed into the clothes that she wore the night before, guessing that she would have to grab her adventuring attire after breakfast. She heard few sounds from the hallways, nor many from some of the rooms. Some were either downstairs or sleeping in, she discerned. But a silent morning was perfect for her.
She made her way back to the restaurant just as she heard voices beyond...though the panthress only caught the last of the conversation...enough to know where they were going next, at least. Her ears pinned back to her skull for a moment...then, Aisha simply shrugged and passed through the doors. She was still a bit tired and too hungry to argue with much.
"Well well, the early worms are here," the panthress smirked to the others with a slight nod of greeting and started to browse the breakfast menu.
Listening to Aisha before she left to head for bed, Gareeku said nothing, merely nodding his head slightly before finishing his meal. Unlike the others, the wolf did not go to bed, but stayed up for the night, drinking ale as he sat at the table where he had eaten his meal.
The next morning, Gareeku was now drinking a glass of water, having stop drinking ale for a few hours. Watching the others arrive, the wolf turned back to the glass of water, finishing it off as he contemplated ordering something else to drink; namely, ale.
Richard was at a table in the corner of the room already, not being an individual prone to the whole "sleeping" experience, and was already drinking breakfast (it had took some convincing, but eventually the young llama girl believed him when he said that as an undead he needed the alcohol to keep himself preserved. It was even almost true; he needed something to preserve himself, but not in cheap beer format and not first thing in the morning).
"You're assuming we're not already in danger," he pointed out to Stygian, "I'm guessing some of us were recognized. Wouldn't be the first time it'd have happened to me anyway."
As Cog carefully poured out a little bit more of his drink, he quirked an eyebrow and brought the steaming liquid to his lips. "A club?" he said, his voice incredulous. "Not that I don't like a little revelry, mind..." he said, turning. "But dancing seems a bit...pointless. Considering."
He shrugged. "As far as dancing, I know a few steps. I don't usually get much call for it." he said, sitting down again.
He sat there calmly, greeting the panthress as she came down the stairs and recommending the coffee to her, and listening to the comments Richard made. He nodded, with a sour expression. He sipped his drink.
"I do have one question, though." he said, turning and pointing to Edge. "I am confused as to why we haven't killed him yet."
Stygian quirked an eyebrow, and shot Cog a look that was so hard to read that it could have done for the research stuff for a degree paper.
"Don't let the caffeine make you jumpy. He's no threat, and he can help us get to the 'guy' behind all of this. I hope you didn't suppose I was just keeping him around for decoration," he said. His tone was only a hint of scathing. "If you wish to kill him, then go right ahead. I won't help though. And you pay the expenses." Calmly, he finished his coffee, and walked back to have another cup, this one a latte, and make himself a sandwich and get a slice of blueberry pie. He settled at a table, sighed pleasedly and ate. If they were going to think this wasn't serious and go badger each other instead of behaving, he wasn't going to be part of it, because frankly he didn't need to.
Cog bowed to the bat. "Nothing of the sort, sir. I'm as calm as can be. Don't get me wrong. I don't mean to sound cold." he said, with a nod to Edge. The vulpine disguise was off-putting, for a moment, but his smell was still unmistakable. "But it's bad form to leave enemies alive. They tend to stab you when you aren't looking. Or bring friends to do it for them." he said, his expression nonplussed.
"And as far as I know, he tried to kill us both last night. That seems to speak for itself, to me." he said, bringing his mug to his lips. "And I'm sure that you have your reasons for keeping him alive. Hence, why, haven't we killed him yet. Seems a reasonable question to me." he said, with only a hint of a grin. "Unless you know something else?" he said, taking a long gulp.
"Eventually, he needs to die." a voice suddenly said in a low yet blunt tone. If the others looked, they would find that Gareeku was looking straight at them, his eyes not being taken off of them even after he first spoke. "He is too much of a danger. He cannot be trusted."
Getting up, the wolf then made his way over to where Cogidubnus and Stygian were, taking a seat at their table.
"He will prove useful, yes." Gareeku continued, looking from Stygian to Cogidubnus as he spoke. "But as I said, once his usefulness has expired, he should be eliminated. I am sure you both remember what he was doing last night. Namely, aiding in the effort to kill us. Who is to say that he won't try it again? As I have said, he cannot be trusted."
"Ah, yes. What an excellent suggestion. Really. And I don't suppose that a bit of regular honor and dignity play in either?" Stygian said, bitterly, while chewing down roast beef slices. "Not to mention that saying something like that in his vincinity isn't the best move either." He sighed, and turned a bit, leaning on the arm of his chair and looking over at the others.
"Look, we don't need to. Besides, I've promised to teach him a lesson in exchange for his aid. I haven't said I will keep him safe, so I can't hinder you from breaking a thing or two, but if you're about to try and really kill him, then I'm afraid that I will have to step in." Neither his face nor his tone changed, but he knew that things wouldn't come to that. However changed, Gareeku was still a reasonable man. Or so he thought.
"Trust isn't an issue. Not in a situation like this. Neccessity is. He can only get out of this unscathed by going along with us, on our terms. I think he can see that much. And if he had tricks up his sleeve, I'm sure that he'd have used them during the night."
In truth, he wasn't sure at all. But he didn't care. Nor did he care much if he had to get between Edge and Gareeku, or if one just decided to walk out of there outright. They were not the main issue. He could easily do without either of them. But he had promised though.
Listening to Stygian's reply to what he said, Gareeku looked him in the eyes, a look of grim seriousness on his face as he remained silent for a few seconds, before a small smirk made itself apparent on his lips.
"Honour?" the wolf replied, raising an eyebrow slightly as he spoke. "I never thought you were one for that. Honour is not an issue. Watching our backs in a situation such as this is."
Gazing at the empty glass which was previously filled with water for a second before turning back to Stygian, the small smirk disappeared from the wolf's face.
"I will hold you to that comment." Gareeku continued, referring to Stygian's comment that he would not hinder him from "breaking a thing or two". "Should he step out of line, I will be the first to put him back in his place."
Bypassing greetings made by the others as she made her way through the restaurant's bar, Aisha took Cogi's suggestion on the coffee and poured some for herself along with grabbing a plate of pancakes with plenty of syrup and a side of bacon. She kept her hearing however upon the conversations had on the table behind her, where once again a discussion was started around Stygian about their captive, the apparent black fox standing nearby.
She added nothing yet, but her eyes narrowed at the differences in arguments. She much agreed with Gareeku, for even though she hadn't really seen or spoken to their new party member, the past involvement was still enough of a reason to not place much trust in him. But Stygian had a point as well...would he have done something the night before, if his intentions weren't so straight? She highly doubted it, with all of them outnumbering him...and with the risk of facing such dangerous powers as she knew her comrades had.
"Hmh," she hummed and took her plate to the table next to them, taking a chair where she could be near the conversation without really being in the middle of it. "I would think that it's a little early in this fiasco to be talking of treachery, anyway," Aisha pointed out calmly and dug into her food. Caution was a trait of hers, but so was focusing on present situations rather than too far ahead.
Cog raised an eyebrow at the wolf. "Come now, good sir. If we aren't going to kill him, then treating him with dignity isn't beyond reason. He's a foe or he's not, after all."
He leaned forward and put his head in his hand, speaking to Stygian. "If you feel he is indeed, an ally, then, so be it. You would know as well as I the risks involved. You understand why we are a bit paranoid, however. These things rarely turn out well."
He stared into Stygian's eyes. With his shades, it probably lost some of it's effect. "But, I imagine you know what you're doing."
Saffron sunrays streamed into the room in dazzling columns, slightly tinged with tangerine from the afterglow of the sunrise, flashing in dazed dazzles over Keaton's prone, slack face. For one who was so vicious and vindictive, the jackal was quite docile-looking as she slept--or did the Cubi, dreamless equivilent of somnolence. Her awakening was announced with a heralding, cheerless groan, Keaton's ears and head-wings snapping slowly back to life as she stirred and battled for clarity amidst her drowsiness.
Last night had occurred very uneventfully, spent playing with the marble which was currently stored in Keaton's pocket, up until she grew bored of that and decided to go to sleep--with the clothes that she wore yesterday still on. As a traveler in every sense of the word, Keaton wasn't entirely used to slumbering in something as comfortable as pajamas, unless she shapeshifted into them. Not being in the state of mind to do so last night, Keaton had instead just opted to sleep atop the luxuriant covers of the bed in her rather unconventional clothing.
"Motherf--" Keaton hissed between her teeth, sitting upright, her hair an askew bird's nest atop her head, her eyes half-lidded and lazy.
It didn't take long for her to prepare her hair and get her shoes on so she could trudge downstairs where the rest of the group was, her footsteps echoing loudly. Stretching her arms languidly over her head, Keaton adjusted the belt keeping her mace strapped to her back and ambled to where her companions were. They seemed to be in the middle of a discussion so Keaton didn't interrupt, remaining on the sidelines so she could subtly spy on them.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
That one did make Stygian's expression change though. And this time, there was a slight bit of amusement that trickled into it.
"Ally?" he said, on the verge of smirking. "You're oversimplifying things, mister. Grossly." He didn't smirk, true, but the way he held his mouth just slightly open, as if just about to speak, and his gaze straight at Cog, as if those glasses didn't exist at all...
"I know what I am doing. Oh yes. And you have reason to be paranoid too," he murred, picking up his fork and breaking off a bit of blueberry pie, stabbing it without looking and bringing it up to his lips. "But why are you treating this as if it were difficult?"
Gently, he put the piece of pie in his mouth, and closed it, chewing slowly, keeping his gaze right on Cog. That was, until Keaton entered.
"Good morning, sweets. Slept well?" he smiled at her, quite pleased.
"Difficult? I don't think so." Cog said, finishing the last of his second cup. "He's either friend or foe. In the case of the latter, well, we've discussed our options. If not, well, we've discussed that too. Standard, simple fare. Pie, as it were" he said, giving that same half-grin.
"Anyway, that answers my question. He's alive because he is useful. Fair enough. Good for him, I suppose." he said. He raised an eyebrow. "I'd have taken you more for a raspberry than a blueberry, though."
He rose and again filled his up with coffee. Apparently the stuff barely even touched him.
Mel, freshly showered, dressed in a nice dress and with her snow leopard illusion firmly in place, undid the web of wards and alarms she had spread around the room to make sure her sleep was secure. Moments later she was crossing the dining room. She was in time to hear the name of the club and the subsequent argument over Edge. She grabbed a couple pancakes, tossed some fruit on top then began searching. After a moment she found a small bowl with what looked like dirty sugar in it. She sprinkled a spoonful over her food. The establishment being run by a dragon she had found a dragon treat, finely ground quartz. She returned to the table and began eating, listening quietly to the banter back and forth.
Stygian's new feral bat "familiar" followed him down to the restaurant. It perched on the edge of a glass of grape fizzy drink, which it sucked through a straw while he ate. It grew increasingly alarmed as the conversation turned towards Edge.
+ + +
For his part, Edge displayed mild amusement at the topic of the conversation. He finished his breakfast while his new "teammates" discussed his fate in front of him. He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and folded it onto the table.
"If I might clear up a few misconceptions..." The fox stood. "My name is Edge. I have no particular affiliation with the people responsible for the... uh.. property damage beyond, perhaps, sharing the same target. I followed Stygian here to collect the price on his head--something the distinguished bounty hunters here can understand, I'm sure."
He cocked his head and folded his hands comfortably behind his back.
"At any rate, he and I have come to an agreement. Having fulfilled my obligations towards the man who arranged our meeting, I have no reason to kill any of you." He cast a sideways glance at Gareeku. "Not yet, anyway."
Listening to Edge speak, Gareeku's eyes locked onto him as he said the last part of his comments.
"I would like to see you try." the wolf replied, staring straight at him with a look of grim seriousness on his face.
Turned back toward the table, Stygian made a short sound, half of a sniff and half a snarl, and turned his pointed ears back. He took word, his voice the slightest bit deeper and coarser for the moment.
"Cease! Both of you," he growled, and looked sideways at them, his eyes black again for a second. "That goes for you in particular, Edge. I'm aware your sense of humor is... unique... But I won't take childishness and teasing." He returned to his meal, his face smoothing out. He gave no hints whatsoever that he was actually pondering upsetting the cubi for an effect. "You had better stay away from that sort of behavior altogether, if you wish to learn. That will be the first part of your lesson."
Slipping the last piece of pie between his lips and chewing it down, he stood, taking his plate and cup and walking over to the counter again. The wolf might have been set on downing more coffee, but even if he could, Stygian preferred tea for a finish.
Keeping to her own still rather than entering the conversation, Aisha seemed to be the only one who noticed that Keaton entered the restaurant, and she spared a quick nod to the jackal succubus while eating her pancakes. The coffee cup had been emptied already. While Aisha wasn't one for that kind of drink, she did feel some energy returning to her body alongside the filling breakfast.
But she couldn't help but return to glancing at the table while the others still spoke about the ebon fox, and what could be done about him, though she found it quite unwise as well to be doing so with the man right in the room. And on cue, he came towards the tables.
"Edge, huh?" Aisha quirked an eyebrow after hearing him speak, and hearing Gareeku's retort as well as Stygian's scold. Her own expression was still rather neutral, and like the others, bordering on suspicion...but unlike some, not bordering on hate; not without reason. "Well, hopefully we can make sure that there never is a reason to kill anyone here."
She smirked and turned back to her food, but cast a quick glance in Stygian's direction beforehand. "Besides. Just because we are gathered on this side doesn't mean that sides aren't divided."
Cog turned to the fox. "He speaks!" he said, leaning against the counter. "Yet, you do not inspire confidence with your words. Well, not a lot of confidence, anyway..."
He took yet another sip of coffee, sighing as he drank. "I'm sure you are a pragmatic man, sir. Understand, in this circumstance, we are as well, and as a bounty hunter, you surely understand that when killing someone, you better do it right the first time. Leaving people who mean you ill alive is seldom good advice."
He raised and eyebrow. "On the other hand, if as you say, you have no reason to kill us, I suppose one can't ask anything more. One is safe from random pedestrians for the same reason, after all. Still."
He narrowed an eye. "I'd be very, very careful to make sure you never have a reason to kill us." he said, letting his other hand rest across his sword hilt, his voice as calm as could be. Pushing off the counter, he approached the vulpine and offered his hand. "That being said, my name is Cogidubnus. Pleasure to meet you."
The resident dead man let a rattling sigh escape between his teeth; this sort of crap was why he didn't think much of adventurers. Yes, let's bicker more. Brilliant! Just when this was dying down, somebody always has to throw in another threat. For cynical, practical Richard the response to all of this was practically a reflex.
"Yes, he should avoid having a reason to kill us. Mebbe at least one person in the whole room should stop giving him more reasons. Threatening people scares them and begets more threats, and our welcome here is strained without hacking each other apart this early in the morning."
"Well. Your brain doesn't seem so dead after all," Stygian said to richard, and sipped his tea, his tone back to the normal low murr. "A lot of bickering for nothing. I'm really quite amazed that people aren't on my back for this yet," he continued, and made a short chuckle. It was his responsibility after all. Not that he liked it, since he was the one who was at the centre of it all at the moment. He had always hated being the leader. That would change, however.
"Look..." he began, and set his tea down on a table, "...can we get past this and on to more important matters?" He leaned forward on the back of a chair and looked around at them all. "Assuming you're all actually coming along, we're going to be walking right into a trap and probably spring it as well. I hope you realize that we need to prepare for this?" The question mark at the end of that sentence was rather emphasized, mostly by his slightly raised brow.
"Well pardon me for watching my back." the wolf snapped, shooting Richard a threatening look. "We barely know him. Hell, only last night he was trying to kill us."
Looking at Edge, Gareeku paused for a second before continuing. "As if you hadn't guess already, I don't trust you." the wolf said. "However, I will not argue any further, but I will be keeping an eye on you."
"Only last night, other people here were also about to kill Somber, who's now on your side, you yourself look like you're about to kill someone in general usually, and from what I've heard mentioned you don't always get along with that little ray of sunshine sipping tea over there," Richard jerked his head at aforementioned ray of sunshine, "Rather than watching your back, stop making people wanna put knives in it. Catch more flies with honey, all that."
"In case you hadn't noticed, Somber has not made an attempt on any of our lives. Edge, on ther hand, did so last night in the battle." Gareeku replied. "You do not know me, so don't tell me how to act."
Noticing that Stygian had realized her presence, Keaton openly approached, hands in her pockets and a surprisingly casual, noncommital smirk on her face. She had repaired her glasses last night, as they were perched once more on the bridge of her nose, linked to the piercings on her right ear. "Morning Stygian," she said, stretching her neck from side to side. "I slept alright. If you can call what Cubi do sleeping, that is..."
With a slightly miffed expression Keaton watched the comments pass back and forth between those assembled at the table. The topic was specifically centered on Edge, whose presence absolutely astounded her. Where the heck did this guy come from, and why did he seem of such importance? It was after a while that Keaton pieced together the puzzle, realizing that he was among those who had assaulted them last night, especially after Gareeku spoke last.
She would've opened her mouth with some sort of indignant protest, but everyone else seemed to have said their piece as to Edge staying in their party. They would be keeping their eye on them, and so would Keaton.
Keaton folded her arms behind her head. She subtly began to harvest the emotions in the room, having no need for breakfast of any tangible sort, absorbing them into her like a sponge. Agitation was starting to stem around Gareeku and Richard--not her favorite cuisine, but it would suffice, as there hardly wouldn't be any suffering or humiliation any time soon.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Edge raised an eyebrow but shrugged off the new hostility. He took the offered hand with a firm but not overpowering grasp. He nodded in appreciation to his new drinking buddy.
"Thank you. Look, the person I came here to kill also happens to be the one who recruited me into your little group in the first place. And I'll be quite happy to overlook the good sir Cogidubnus ambushing me during our little duel... so long as he doesn't make a habit of it." He winked at Cog.
"I'm not asking any of you to trust me... or even like me. I know as well as you do that those are rare and precious commodities in this business. A little professionalism shouldn't be out of the question, however. After all, we will be working together if you plan to join me and the little ray of sunshine at the club today."
He smirked at Stygian.
"In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I'm going to be the bait..."
Eyeing Edge sideways, thinking more about what his latest statement and gestures might have really meant, Stygian hummed, and then faced the 'vulpine's' smirk with a slightly boorish look.
"Actually, there's no need for that. I do think you can tag along though. More attractive prey," he said, his eyes level. "And besides, I don't think you'd want to be stuck with these people if they might cut you apart a bit for moving suddenly," he continued, and gave the others a short look over that while not special in any way still made its point. "Still, before we can say anything, we need to see the place in question." With that, he turned back, and got his tea, finishing it.
Aisha finished her food, continuing to listen to the conversation with a roll of her eyes, more to the side of amusement than anything when it got to the middle. Men certainly like to continue a banter. However she still stayed involved with little more to add, as every point had been said and just about every side had been accounted for.
When all was said and done, she let her fork fall onto the empty porcelain plate with a metallic clatter and turned around in her chair, regarding the others with a smirk. "Good plan. At least it's agreeable to focus on the journey at hand rather than casting suspicion on each other," she finished with a slight narrowing of the eyes to prove her point, then stood up from her seat, leaving the plate and a tip for the waitress. "And as for the walking into a trap thing you pointed out before," she glanced at the bat, "I'm sure we still want to come. Some of us are good at traps, whether dodging them or setting them."
With that, she nodded to the others, then to Edge. "I'm Aisha, by the way. Friendly company or not, it's still polite to know names. If everyone will excuse me, I'll be getting prepared to start this thing." The panthress then turned and started walking out of the restaurant, heading back to her room on the thought that her adventuring clothes had been brought back.
Edge smiled and nodded to Aisha as she left. He turned back to Stygian.
"Regardless of how attractive I might be or how deadly the company, I am scheduled to meet with a certain callous businessman this morning. I like to tie up loose ends. And seeing as how I'm already familiar with the place..."
The black fox shrugged. The tiny vampire perched near Stygian's teacup looked up at him, lost its balance on the rim of the glass, and fell flat onto the table. The fox sighed.
"I'm at your disposal until you leave. I doesn't look like I'll be going anywhere until then."
Mel silently ate her breakfast as the group argued. She preferred using the carrot to the stick and didn't understand what they hoped to accomplish by threatening one another. But she was a businessperson, not an adventurer. Probably just their way of establishing a pecking order. Finished, she placed her silverware across her plate and quietly asked, "Do you have any particular preparations in mind, Ignatz? You know the most about the situation."
Stygian turned, and tilted his head a bit at the feline, raising an eyebrow. What did he think they were talking about?
"Don't flatter yourself. The names were of import. You personally, are..." he began, but stopped, shutting his mouth. He kept his gaze on Edge for a bit. Then, he turned away and shook his head.
Mel adressed him, and he looked back at her. Her question was, thankfully, as sensible and pertinent as he would have expected from her, and for a moment he was relieved that she and Aisha were around.
"Not any particular, save us getting our things in order and scouting out the club in question. But for now it seems we won't be going anywhere at all. Where's Somber? I believe you fixed her yesterday, Mel. She did go to bed, yes?"
Cog sat back down beside Gar and Styg, and crossing his legs let the others speak. The others had made their opinions known - they saw absolutely no reason why Edge might be a threat at all. Or simply didn't care. It was disconcerting, but then, such was life. Cog wasn't out to argue - he was simply clarifying things. One didn't kill unless one had to, after all. Enemies were filed under a 'had to', however. But it had been made quite clear to him that Edge was not an enemy. And Cog would abide by that. So he sat, and drank, and starting listened to the others talk about what needed doing. From what it sounded like, they were in for an ambush.
Cog liked ambushes. It had been awhile since somebody had tried to kill him with one. But again, they probably hadn't heard of him here...
The hyena from before, dressed and done properly but with a hint of weariness that could not be made go away, no matter how neatly ordered her hair or how pristine her clothes, still present in her eyes, walked in and passed them on her way into the kitchen. It seemed that she had lost sleep, or was stressed somehow. Stygian didn't pay her any heed though, only ignored her and sighed, looking down.
"Bring her and get your things together," he said, just a hint of disappointment in his tone. Adventurers, he thought. Some were clever enough, but most seemed to expect things to happen by themselves or drop right into their lap. But, as it were, there were indeed some who mattered, and others who did not. He would focus on those who did.
"We are going to leave and go into town as soon as we can. Will someone check the car? I can take one on my bike, but if that's wrecked, we're going to be wasting some time."
Recalling the way the two had interacted together in battle and how efficiently they had defeated their foes, Keaton walked towards the staircase again. "I'll go fetch her," she volunteered, throwing her hair over her shoulder. "No skin off my back."
Without any further announcements, Keaton walked up the stairs, her combat boots clunking heavily against the wooden floors. She walked down the hallway where everyone's doors were located, searching intently for the specified door leading to Somber's room. Hopefully the hare was completely healed after last night's ordeal and ready to go. If not she was in for a rude awakening.
Keaton leaned against the door, pressing her ear to its surface and tapping her knuckles on it. "Yo! Somber! Time to get going!" No response nor any signs betraying movement from within. Still undaunted, Keaton knocked on the door again, gripping the brass doorknob. "Hello?"
She wasn't intending to stay there all morning trying to awaken Somber, as she wasn't in the mood, didn't possess the attention span, and couldn't keep her traveling companions waiting. "Okay, you've been asking for it. I'm going in." Noticing that the door was unlocked, Keaton twisted the doorknob and all but charged into the room.
Once she skidded to a halt in the middle of the comfortable, tidy room, Keaton realized that there was something greatly amiss.
There was no sign of the lapine Demon.
In the condition she was in Somber wouldn't have had the energy to get up and walk freely around, and if she did someone would've seen her, right? So that meant...
Oh shit.
Keaton turned tail and raced back down the hallway and the stairs, her ears perked and her pierced eyebrow arched. "Guys, I can't find Somber," she said urgently. "She's just... gone."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Aisha had made it to her room meanwhile, having found that her adventurer clothing had indeed been returned, cleansed of blood and mended back to perfection, as if new again. As she placed the collar bearing her cape back around her neck, she could hear footsteps going past her door. The panthress recognized the sound of the boots and the voice as that of Keaton's, as it stopped in front of what apparently was Somber's door further down the hall.
I hope the demon can keep up, she thought to herself while securing her weapons. The idea still didn't sit well with her to have one in the group, considering her hatred for the race...but this one had fought by their side at least.
Then, just as she turned to open the door, Aisha caught Keaton rushing past, too quickly for her to even call. Her curiosity quirked, she stole a glance down the direction from whence she came. Was it something that Somber had done? She never figured that anything scared the succubus...
Aisha followed after Keaton, taking the stairs two by two and catching up finally when she appeared to have found the others. The huntress caught her words just as she came up behind her. "Gone?" Her head tilted, but not out of concern, just curiosity. "As in without a trace?"
It was easy to reach the same conclusion. They would have found her easily if she had only just wandered off.
Richard simply shrugged when he heard Somber was gone.
"All the more fortuitous to say this now then. I went with all this the other night because I panicked. One night and a lot of booze later, it dawns on me that I'm really not involved. This chick's after Styg, not me or Somber, and on the off chance she does hear about our involvement I don't travel in such dangerous circles, so what's there to check out?" He stood up and started for the door, "I'll check on the car, but I'm washing my hands of all this when we get back into town."
Stygian looked to the undead and nodded shortly.
"Can't say that I blame you for that. Now, are we..."
Suddenly, his ears twitched, and swiveled in the direction of the corridor leading to the stairs. He straightened, his face turning into a frown, and then abruptly walked off. He stopped by the stairs, and almost glared at Keaton.
"What do you mean 'gone'? She may be a demon, but recently healed she..." he said, then stopped and muttered, looking away. He seemed to ponder for a moment, his eyes looking out into emptiness, before he sighed and muttered something under his breath.
"Please excuse me. And get your things in order. I just have to take a look," he said, and then hastily made his way up the stairs and out of sight.
Sitting there for a while longer, Gareeku listened as it became apparent that Somber was missing.
"Great. A missing ally. Just what we need." the wolf muttered sarcastically, before deciding to make his way up to his room, hoping that his normal outift was washed and ready.
Sure enough, when Gareeku stepped into his room, he saw his outfit folded up on his bed. A couple of minutes later, the wolf had the outift on, finishing strapping his sheathed katana to the side of his waist. Leaving a tip on the bedside table as a thank-you for washing his clothes (Gareeku may have been moody, but he knew when thank-yous were deserved), the wolf then made his way back downstairs to where the others were.
Mel heard the commotion about Somber and felt a moment's guilt about not following up with her on the healing. Then she realized that the woman had disappeared, not died. Everyone was running upstairs to either look at where the rabbit wasn't or to grab their weapons. Since she already had all her stuff with her she wandered outside to see if the demon had taken the vehicle. When Mel stepped off the outside stairs and faced the parking lot she saw that no one was going to be taking the car anywhere. It had been a casualty of the drama the night before, it's back end crushed. With a scowl she returned to the lobby and went to the courtesy phone she spotted last night. Just as she guessed, the directory outside a bar was already open to cab services. Fishing her own phone from her bag she dialed one of the numbers.
The fox shrugged at Stygian's response and followed the Undead out to the car... or whatever was left of it.
"If it makes you feel any better, I can assure you that the people after Stygian place you very low on their priorities list. At the very least, they probably won't pay the next wave of goons any extra to kill you." Edge scanned the landscape. "I wonder if anyone else survived last night..."
Looking back to Richard, he politely changed the subject.
"So... you're a musician, right? Ever played the Red Sands?"
+ + +
The chiropteran Warp-Aci followed Stygian out of the dining area. It flew beside him at around head height.
"If you need new wheels, I could teleport us to a rental place I know of near the docks. Their insurance rates are out of sight, but they're very understanding of the special needs of Adventuring types."
Richard ran his fingers through his white, wispy hair. The freaking car. Right. Of course the cool car. The whole fiasco had started unpleasantly, why not end that way? The great circle of crap was completed. It took some effort to yank himself back to the present, but it would be rude to ignore Edge.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I think..." He remembered telling Edge about his musical career, and his rants the previous night on the subject of goddamn, contract wielding fae bastards, "While ago. Dimitri got a booking there, and while the lot of us got boo'd out as usual they called me in particular back. One of those nice places that don't care if I'm technically breaking my contract by playing there. Nice joint, but I wouldn't go there myself. Kinda sleezy... lets just say I'm not surprised that whatever Styg's up to is bringing him there," he chuckled, "Not all bad though. Say what you will, the audience has good taste. Big on jazz, that sorta stuff."
"Thanks, but I don't think we need a rental. We can get around without it, and it wouldn't do us much good for just one day. Besides, Mel's already calling," Stygian replied immediately to the little creature, quite aware of the latter thanks to his hearing. "Now, please return to Edge for a while. I'd like to have a look alone." He waved his hand, and quite similar to how he had held the little thing earlier, Ky felt odd and somehow knew that he wouldn't be able to follow after the bat as he walked off, no matter how much he wanted it. It seemed that Stygian wanted privacy.
After having urged them all to hurry up, it was a bit silly that Stygian didn't come back down until nearly half an hour later. He didn't look ashamed because of it though, just bitter and angry. Unfortunate circumstances were just that, and it was understandable that he should feel aggravated, yet there seemed to be more than just that troubling him. He stalked through the corridors, over to the counter, returned his key and then walked toward the exit, nodding to Mel and stepping out through the door.
"It doesn't change a thing. We go, with or without her," he said firmly, walking up behind the others. "We've got more important things than the whims of a demon to take regards to."
The little bat somehow managed to look relieved and dejected at the same time. It disappeared in a flash of purple energy.
+ + +
You managed to fail as a hostage? I'm impressed.Ch-Yah! You got me back, didn't you?+ + +
Edge lounged around making small talk for half an hour. He looked up as Stygian emerged from the lobby.
"Ready to go?" He cocked his head. "So... do you have a plan in mind for when we arrive?"
Mel had already paid her bill so she followed Ignatz outside. The cab had arrived and it was a larger vehicle just as she had requested. No one would need to be cramped on the trip. As she walked down the steps she looked around to see who was around and who might have wandered off. "A good question. What are the goals of this scouting mission?"
"Very simple and elegant," Stygian stated, walking up to the Art Deco-esque solemn green, long coupe and opening the rear-hinged back door and standing aside, following the obvious 'ladies first' principle. "Ascertain the location, survey activity, locate possible entryways and exits, and plan out how to do what we are going to do as quickly, cleanly and efficiently as possible." That was always the plan, whenever circumstances weren't exceptional. And even if they were in this case, when things were planned out they worked smoothly anyway.
"It probably won't take long either. A quick execution should always be strived toward," he said, and looked at them seriously. Normally, he'd have been less serious and formal, but now...
The door opened as the dragon from before walked out, holding a cup and strolling leisurly out over the porch, leaning on the railing and looking at them inquisitively. Stygian looked back at him, meeting his gaze, his face a stony mask.
Cog sighed, and stood up, some of his joints popping. "It looks like it's time to go, then." he said, leaving his mug and a few coins scattered on the table leaving. He passed by a strange dragon as he left the place, tipping his hat to the fellow as he decended the steps to the car. The snow leopard was also there. So was The Stygian.
He heard them speaking as he walked toward the car, and made as if to circle around and get in. He frowned. The thing still smelled quite strongly of whatever had been thrown up in it last night. He called to the bat. "It all sounds so nice and easy, when you say it like that." he said, making as if to enter the car. "Let's hope it really is, eh?"
Edge took one look at the two powerful Creatures and hastily followed the others to the cab. Whatever business Stygian might have had with the Dragon, he certainly had no interest in intervening. He smiled at the cabbie as he inspected the vehicle, curious to know what their driver thought of the situation.
Aisha had stood back while listening as some of the group scrambled to find Somber, while the others (of which she wouldn't proudly admit that she was a part of) stayed back without much of a care given. However it was still a curiosity...she was either a runaway or the group's first casualty. The panther's ears pinned to the back of her skull. There had better be no more of those. While Stygian was upstairs, Aisha returned her room key to the front desk as well as her share of pay, which to her wasn't really that much.
Shrugging it off, Aisha made sure to shift her cape to a different color, as she'd probably make a habit to do that every time she went outside. They had lived during the night, but there was a little room left for caution. Or paranoia, as some would say...she rolled her eyes to herself as the cloak turned a blue-tinged color, perhaps only a shade lighter than her clothing was, but still dark. That was when the bat returned and the others made haste outside, with herself tagging along just behind and pulling the cowl back over her head.
Things had been cleaned up moderately outside, she noticed, with quite a few dire stains of red still upon the ground as reminder or clue to what had happened only the night before. The car they had come in was, as predicted, in shreds. The spacious cab would do well...whatever it took to just leave the scene behind only to face a new one later. The dragon owner was outside, and she too nodded in polite farewell and thanks for the hospitality as the conversation and plans caught her ear.
"Careful, you'll jinx us," Aisha smirked as she heard Cogi's remark, coming down to the cab and starting into a seat of her own on the opposite side. But gods let nothing hinder us, she thought on the side.
Richard simply made for the cab with the others, getting into the back seat and getting himself mostly out of the way (ignoring the cabbie pointedly turning up the air conditioning; he couldn't help smelling like formaldihyde).
"After the rest of 'em get in we're headed for Red Sands, with a stop at Third and Ac'Corris street on the way." He said to the cabbie as he buckled himself in.
Mel paused and looked back at the inn and it's owner. She bowed her head respectfully but cautiously. The fact that he had addressed her by her actual name the night before without having been told it was worrisome. He might have just researched everyone to find out where to bill the damages, but it still bothered her. She temporarily dismissed it with the thought that all dragons were nosy creatures. The pause was also to allow everyone to get in the car ahead of her as she hated getting stuck in the middle.
At hearing that they would be leaving regardless of Somber's absence, Keaton felt her face convult into something akin to a slight, disapproving frown. Nothing over the top to her reasons--she simply felt more comfortable with a fellow shadow-manipulator with her, especially when they fought side-by-side.
Burying her hands in her pockets, Keaton trudged behind the group as they filtered, one by one, into the car. Meanwhile, Stygian glared at the dragon who owned the tavern, much to Keaton's suspicion. Either those two had a history or Stygian was feeling somewhat worrisome after last night's events, although, to Keaton, paranoia certainly didn't seem within his character.
For now Keaton remained where she was, up until she sighed and slid into the car, throwing her bushy tail to the side and leaning against the seat.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Stygian held the dragon's gaze, his face clear of emotion, for quite a bit, untill nearly all were in the car. The creature turned away, and in turn so did the bat, instead walking over and straddling his motorcycle. He figured that no one would want to ride with him, so he started up and revved low for just a little, kicking off the stand and rolling over next to the car a bit. The driver, a stern-faced lapine in neatly pressed clothes, looked at him with moderate interest and then nodded back to Richard, seemingly unfettered by the smell, even though his nostrils were pinched.
The black fox adjusted his suit jacket and ran his fingers through his spiky, violet-tipped hair (didn't it used to be blond?) as he waited politely for everyone to enter the cab. When it became apparent that the leopardess preferred to be last, he stepped inside and made himself comfortable. He pulled his mirror shades up to rest on his forehead.
He raised an eyebrow when Richard gave the driver directions. A subtle illusionary effect muffled sound on its way to the front of the cab. The rabbit looked like a respectable sort, but Edge saw no reason to involve the driver in their conversation.
"I know you guys don't trust me, but I don't think it's a very good idea to waltz up to the front door. The cloaks and swords aren't exactly helping an effort to remain inconspicuous. If this setup really is a trap, then all the muscle in the place will have your descriptions anyway." He looked pensive for a moment. "In fact, one of them might be willing to reveal their standing orders regarding this group if we ask nicely."
The gleam in his eye hinted at what he might think asking nicely constituted.
Stygian didn't roll his eyes where he sat on his slowly purring motorcycle, but very nearly. It wasn't that Edge's observation was incorrect. But it seemed that he was very much into saying the more obvious things, rather than trying to search for those that weren't.
"Unless you've been paying attention, they either will be expecting us but won't do anything before they're sure they have us, or they will not expect anything, since the head man hasn't told them anything specific. They want us there, thus they will let us think that we can enter. The trick is to think two steps ahead of that. Now..." he said, looked at the fox meaningfully, and rolled over a bit closer to the door. "You should know by now that I and several of us others are hardly easy to detect. You should also know that you should not be questioning these things, because we know what we are doing. Wait and see, and before that, I suggest you just watch." That might have been sharper than intended, but he really did want the cubi to shut up and stop acting like he knew best all the time.
Seeing that everyone except Gareeku was seated in the vehicle Mel slid into her side and closed that door.
Cog sat down in the vehicle next to Richard, his sword out of his belt and resting beside him, the bottom next to his feet. He cracked his neck and coughed a second, before realizing he couldn't smell the vomit in the car anymore. Mostly because the smell of formaldehyde was overpowering his sense of smell. He regarded the undead sitting beside him, and shrugged. Better than rot, he supposed.
He flipped one of the vents to blow over his face, and leaned back into the chair. He peered at the undead from the corner of his eye. "So, I hear you're not going to be joining us. A pity. I saw you with that cold magic back there. Still. You want to die, it's your business." he said, looking idly outside the tinted windows. "You're kinda giving us the shaft, though. We're stronger together. And probably the shaft of anyone you know. It's not like they don't know who you are, already. Or won't find out. Still."
He settled back into his seat. "Your business, of course. I understand completely why exiting might be an...enticing option.' he said, his stare drifting over to a certain Bat revving a motorcycle. "Anything The Stygian is involved in is usually worse than it seems..."
Making a throaty growl and exhaling sharply, Stygian finally made that roll with his eyes and put his face to his palm for a second, clearly expressing his opinion of Cogidubnus' reiteration. He rapped the front window of the car and signed for the driver to go, and then quickly turned away before anyone else could say anything. Then, with a growl from his bike that sounded as irritated as he, he spun off, skidding and drawing a long line of black in the gravel before the snarling machine made its way down the road and out of sight quickly. The lapine driver looked after him with something between confusion and disapproval.
Saying nothing, Gareeku followed the others outside, waiting until the others climbed into the taxi before reluctantly getting in himself.
Finally, as Gareeku lastly made his way into the back of the cab, the bunny looked back to Mel for a second, and then slipped into first gear, rolling off in the bike's trail.
About five minutes passed as they went down the road, before a white and black car passed them, and the driver slowly brought to a halt. Up ahead one other vehicle was blocking the road, two tall and brusque-looking men who in their dark uniforms could not be anything save police officers standing beside it. One of them waved them in, while the other dropped a cigarette to the ground and adjusted his blue jacket's pinned lapels, leaning against the car, his hand lazily at his side where he most probably had one or two weapons. Of Stygian and his bike, nothing could be seen.
Richard scoffed at Cog's assessment of the situation, "I already died; wanting to has nothing to do with it. Everything I did back there was pure dumb luck; I'm a musician, not an adventurer. And best of all, I'm not involved in anything Styggy's up to nor have I ever been involved in anything similar. What're they gonna do, track some random undead they may have caught a glimpse of in that pandamonium by his band's crappy reviews?" He gave a short, cynical laugh, "You lot are more than able to take care of yourselves. I'm not cut out for this."
Then the car ride came to a halt.
"Eh? What gives?" Richard peered out the window at the two cops.
The first of the two, the shorter but also half again the broader, and not fat, rapped the cab's window with a knuckle. The back window. The second, a solid-faced German Shepherd, eyed the chauffeur boorishly, still leaning on the car and yet somehow making it very clear they wouldn't get past without his approval.
"May I please ask you to step out of the vehicle?" said the lynx, more a directive than a question. "We received a call about some disturbance at the tavern."
As Mel was beside one of the doors she opened it with a look of dignified irritation at the disruption. Swinging her high heel clad legs out, she held out her hand, obviously expecting to be handed out of the vehicle. In an expensive dress, high heels, and with a spoiled princess manner she didn't seem at first glance to be the sort to create a disturbance more drastic than a temper tantrum. "A disturbance, officer? How dreadful. But I suppose you have to deal with ruffians all the time."
The black fox in the impeccably clean and pressed white suit stepped out of the other side of the vehicle. He scurried over to Mel's side and helped her out of the cab.
"Tavern? Surely you can't mean the Dragon's Grin?" He looked up at the police officers with feigned concern that didn't quite succeed in hiding his irritation at the interruption of his day. "Who in their right minds would cause trouble at a Dragon-owned establishment?"
Aisha relaxed in the seat of the car with a sigh as the others finished filing in, with the exception of Stygian, and sat with her sword standing with the point of the ornate sheath between her feet. As usual she felt a little caged within such a machine, but it was at least a little roomier than the last one for this group. Aisha wasn't claustrophobic, but still rather enjoyed open air. Especially when closed air tended to sting the nostrils somewhat.
She enjoyed the ride in her usual silent way, her head hidden in the sheltering folds of her dark cowl. The panthress had the solemn appearance of any adventurer about her, though she was leaning back and it looked rather like she was sleeping while keeping her hands on the blade's rounded pommel. In truth she was very livid, her crimson gaze peering straight out of the darkness of the folds and watching the road around them.
So in fact, Aisha hadn't missed the fact that they were stopped by the police, who seemed to rather linger at the front where Mel and Edge played on distraction, and very well, she could add.
Though they were quite a mixed group when it came to being dressed. Well-dressed individuals in the front and dangerous-looking adventurers further back, with an undead somewhere in the middle, it all looked. Way to be nonchalant, Aisha smirked, and only hoped that they would be overlooked smoothly. She stayed in the car, and unlike a couple of the others would only exit if she herself were addressed to do so, still playing on the illusion of being inattentive.
The lynx looked somewhat surprised at Mel's demeanor, and then just eyed Edge sternly, and said again, this time more sharply; "Please step out of the vehicle. We're going to have to ask you a few questions." Obviously, he didn't think either of them particularly amusing.
That was when the dog suddenly stepped up and took Mel's hand, sidling in between her and his partner. With a look somewhere in between nonchalant disregard and amusement that was clearly practiced.
"I'm sorry, mademoiselle. My colleague is a professional man, but he has little patience or manner. Allow me," he said, leading her out in front of the flustered face of the lynx. The other man's consternation didn't last long though, as he turned and walked around the car, opening the door on the other side.
"Questions? Out here? In the middle of the road?" The well-dressed fox looked quite incredulous.
He rapped the top of the cab and eyed the dangerous-looking adventurer types with disapproval. "And just are we paying you people for, anyway? Shouldn't you be out here protecting us from," he gesticulated to indicate some unseen threat in the distance, "whatever hooligans these officers are talking about?"
He sighed and made a visible effort to calm himself as the more reasonable of the two officers intervened to assist Mel.
"I'm sorry, officer, but will this take long? If there's a problem, I'm sure my lawyers can find a way to expedite matters..."
He already had a cell phone open and was thumbing through the phone book.
Mel smiled at the canine. "Yes. I can see that you are obviously the superior officer." Delicately she probed at his mind even as her voice gained it's hypnotic tones. "You're clearly in charge here, and a very decisive man. You can see at a glance that we are just innocent tourists. Obviously not the ruffians you are searching for." She looked for signs that her mental suggestions were taking as she continued, "I'm sure you can see that we aren't who you want and are going to send us on our way. Just a bunch tourists you can forget all about."
As Mel spoke, the shepherd's eyes seemed to lose themselves. His ears fell forward just a bit, and he nodded slowly, acquiescing.
"Yes. I think that will be good. Wouldn't want to hold you up here," he almost mumbled, still holding her hand slackly. The lynx turned his attention toward the other officer and Mel, furrowing his brow deeply.
"Are you nuts, Alex?!" he said, failing to see the subtle signs immediately. "We need to be do..." he began. Then, his eyes widened with astonished realization, and his hand snapped down to his side to unholster his weapon. "Hold it right there!" he cried tensely.
Richard gave a rattling sigh and displayed exemplary face to palm coordination for an undead, muttering something along the lines of "Smooth, Mel. Real smooth."
The handsome young fox--armed only with a cell phone--raised his hands.
"Whoa, whoa! Nobody's going anywhere, officer. Let's not do anything we might regret, okay?"
Sighing from inside the car, Cog rubbed the bridge of his nose, his face somewhat soured. He silently thanked the limo company for the tinted windows as he slipped his sword back into his belt, somewhat impeding his ability to sit. He murmured at the undead beside him.
"We really don't have the time for this."
Cog shook his head and scooted out of his seat, maneuvering around until he managed to exit the car, on the same side as the now-frightened police officer. The cop swung the gun quickly towards Cog, who raised his hands peacefully and took a step back.
"Hey, now, calm down."
Cog kept his hands raised. The cop kept a critical eye on him. Cog slowly lowered his hands and made a practiced bow.
"Cogidubnus Mithlome, at your service, good sir."
Cog's tone and inflection were as calm and reasonable as he could make them. The cop raised an eyebrow but for a second, and turned to regard Tezcat as soon as he spoke, his attention caught. His eyes began to flicker between two felines and his partner a bit longer than they should have.
Straight from the bow Cog darted forward, and before the Cop had really registered the movement Cog fluidly drew his sword and struck, the blade a flash of a silver arc. The cop's head rolled from his shoulders, and a fountain of blood erupted from the severed neck.
As the head fell, Cog absently hoped Mel had a good domination of the other officer's mind. A rather good domination.
That wolf is fast, was Mel's first thought when Cogidubnus made his move. Her second thought was that the sight of the blood destroyed her delicate hold on the canine officer's mind. Quickly she grabbed for stronger control. He was trying to pull his hand from her grasp to draw his weapon only to find that she was much stronger than she looked. The moment of struggle was all she needed to put him to sleep. With a heavy thump he dropped to the ground. With a sigh Mel knelt beside him, "Now we need to tidy up and hurry along before anyone sees us here." With that she began the painstaking job of removing the memories of the last hour from the police officer's mind. "And someone might want to calm down the cabbie."
Edge rolled his eyes. He stepped forward and bent over the fallen lynx.
"You okay, buddy?" He acted as if expected a response from the headless police officer. The fox extended a hand. "Here, let me help you up."
+ + +
"Huh? What happened?"
The lynx stood, displaying a surprising lack of blood or headlessness. He looked a bit shaky on his feet and was rubbing his head. The well-dressed fox had an arm around his shoulder, supporting him. The officer straightened up and dusted himself off. Then he turned to see his partner lying on the ground.
"Alex! Are you--?"
"He's fine." The fox interrupted him. "Just fine. You both had a nasty fall, but my friend is attending to him now. Although if you happen to have a healer's kit on you..."
"Health kit. Right."
The lynx popped the trunk of the police cruiser and rummaged around inside. The fox leaned against the side of the vehicle, craning his head to see over the policeman's shoulder. The back of the car lowered ever so slightly farther than one would expect from a man of that size pressing down on it and, curiously enough, remained down even after the two men shut the lid and moved away from the vehicle.
"C'mon, Alex." The lynx squatted by his partner. "This isn't the time to be sleeping on the job. There's a report of a disturbance at a club downtown."
Tidying up the mind of the canine officer proved a bit more of a painstaking task than Mel had prepared for. Seizing it would have been hard enough for even a cubi in the first place, as he, like probably all policemen in the city, had been provided with a manner of mind-shielding. Fortunately, she was no cubi. This sort of work was her expertise, not just something that happened to be a natural ability.
When the lynx, whose name Edge happened to have divulged by then was Carl, came back from the back of the police car, or so it seemed, Mel was very nearly finished with her work, hasty as it had been. The man squatted down and looked at his colleague, and began speaking. He managed to finish his sentence, before an arc flashed through the air, much like the one from Cogidubnus' sword, but pitch-black. It ripped a long tear in the road and tore asunder the two men by the shoulders, missing Mel's face by a hand's breadth. Blood and guts spattered in a long reave, through torn fabric and fur.
"Too messy and slow," growled a disdainful and familiar voice from beside the other car. Stepping forward, Stygian bared his teeth and glared as he spoke, just the hint of something moving back up his sleeve. "We're getting out of here. Now! They'll already be making inquiries. Better to create a mess that's too hard to make anything from then."
Without waiting for the others, the bat moved the other car out of the way, by simply lifting the front end with an arm and throwing it to the side with an alarming creak from the forward suspension. He trailed a claw across the side of it, scratching the paint as he walked toward the back.
There was a dampened cry, and the slam of a door, as the chauffeur of their own car threw himself out in panic and ran, high-tailing it as fast as he could away into the woods.
Carl stood and turned to face his ambusher. The lynx had a long gash running across his shoulders and chest, but there wasn't any blood. Instead, the gaping wound was a dark crevasse sizzling with some kind of purple energy. He sighed.
"I really liked that car, too."
He fiddled with his belt and tossed his badge and handgun to the fox. Then he melted into a puddle of darkness and disappeared. An additional pool of blood reappeared near Cog, with long wet streaks in the asphalt appearing as the illusion masking them faded.
Edge turned the Being weapon over in his hand. The fox shrugged and tossed it aside.
"I guess we have to do it his way after all."
Sitting impatiently beside two of her comrades, Keaton sulked and occasionally threw an expectant glance or two outside the vehicle, hands fidgeting with the iridescently-hued marble she juggled between her black-furred palms. What was taking so long? Stupid police officers. If she could get her hands on whoever alerted the authorities to the commotion last night, she probably would've either thrown a world-class hissy fit or would've torn them to pieces. Depended on how irritated she would be at the time.
Fortunately she didn't need to do either of the two. The sickening sound of metal slicing through skin, muscle, and bone slid with almost soundless grace into the air, mere moments after the police officer's head went flying. Ears flattening, Keaton stared with disgust at the decapitated form as it crumpled to the ground, lifeless. While Keaton would never admit it, she found the sight of blood gruesome and slightly disturbing, and found it fortunate that in the heat of battle she would be too preoccupied to notice the foul fluid.
It seemed as though things were going smoothly enough after that, up until something far more dramatic and monstrous. Cleaving through the air, an ephemeral, sable arc materialized seemingly out of nowhere, slicing downward, bifurcating the remaining police officer (Carl?) by the shoulder and allowing the bloodied body to fall. Feeling somewhat sick after she saw the intestines strewn like tattered confetti along the ground, Keaton, who was originally peering over the lap of the one sitting beside her, withdrew slightly, stifling a wet, gagging noise.
Unsurprisingly, the chauffeur decided that it was best to evacuate, racing out of the car in an undignified lump and dashing off. She didn't even notice Carl rise, reanimated-albeit with an abysmal gash severing him--and throw the fox his badge and gun, until she dared to peek outside the car again. Just in time to watch the lynx liquify and melt into the ground.
Keaton groaned again at the sight of the guts, finding herself temporarily, for once, robbed of coherent speech. "I..." she stammered, "couldn't yo..." Finally she released a rasping, "GaAaAAah..."
Followed by a very small, "ew."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Still staying within the car while the conversation with the police went on outside, Aisha was beginning to get somewhat edgy and restless, and that was quite evident when she snarled with a bit of annoyance at Edge's comment to the adventurers. Granted they would have to keep playing on that, but still...
At Richard's muttered comment about Mel, Aisha glanced up and curiously glanced out of her window, which faced the side with the goings-on. It seemed Mel was trying to bring an officer under an influence of illusion, with Edge trying to keep the other one from shooting. The panthress gripped her sword handle with impatience. She'd have thought of going out there to help things along...that is, until Cogi started out first.
She watched the wolf curiously, wondering what he was bound to do...and widened her eyes when without a warning he managed to decapitate the lynx. Aisha was frozen with stark repulsion, and with a muttered curse she started out of the car just as the whole thing was stopped with a messy intervention by Stygian.
With a small attempt to keep the contents of her stomach intact, Aisha watched with a blank expression as their driver ran from sight, looked over the strewn blood and gore, listened to Keaton as she reacted as well as anyone would have...then she promptly hit her forehead a few times on the edge of her door in exasperation. It looked like it was time to do a lot more running, and soon. "Was all of that REALLY necessary? We can't always mow down every individual who tries to stop us!" She rolled her eyes and muttered beneath her breath, "Dioses nos ayudan ahora, por favor... (Gods help us now, PLEASE...)"
Stygian hissed and turned a scathing look to Cogidubnus, holding it for a few seconds and then lowering it into a mere glare, which he directed first at the fox, then at Mel. If they had wanted to hold them off, they could have done so properly.
"If we don't, we won't get out of here. Now, let's make a mess enough for the others to choke on..." he said, emphasizing the last part so that no one could mistake his opinion. And as he did, he flipped out his gun, then trained it, and let the shot echo between the trees.
The running lapin screamed and fell forward, clutching his spasming left leg and kept half crying out, half hissing through his teeth. Not minding the man, Stygian shot daggers with his eyes against Cog again as he stepped past him, and then threw the boot open with a loud snap from the lock. Throwing the headless body out of the booth and against a tree with a sickening wet thump, he grabbed the head and gave it a swift kick, sending it into the corpse's sagging middle. Then he bent forward and felt under the car.
"Still warm... but not..." he muttered to himself, walking around to the front of the vehicle. Then, abruptly, he heaved the front end of it up high and threw it into the same tree as the corpse. It crashed into it with a loud creak and the crack of glass, bending the tree down and crushing the body. Meanwhile, calmly, Stygian slipped another sort of bullet out of his pocket and into the revolver. It was hardly the best sort of gun for the task, but it would do.
Six more loud snaps, as he penetrated the fuel tank. Then, he fired the final bullet, more a roar than the others, and set the thing on fire. A quick spark came, then flames, and then the explosion as the oxygen finally breathed life into the mixture. Nodding, Stygian slipped the revolver back, and then promptly threw the last body into the wreckage.
"That will do for now," he muttered, the flames reflected in the black of his eyes.
"Well, then." Edge clapped his hands together. "Nothing kickstarts a morning like large explosions. We can only hope that the club will prove just as flammable."
He cocked his head and regarded the wailing rabbit with almost clinical detachment.
"Uh... would anyone like to drive? Or do we need to go fetch the bunny?"
Mel stood, producing a large white handkerchief from somewhere to wipe off splatters of blood. She stayed silent during Ignatz's cleanup of the scene, watching detachedly. Having the mind she was working on become abruptly dead was a disorienting and unpleasant sensation and she needed a moment to recover herself. Once the explosion flared she turned back to the car and slid into her seat. In flat voice she said, "I'm sure the baboon would like to drive since he has such strong opinions on how things should be done." The look that accompanied this came from eyes that weren't the least bit feline. Then she closed them against the headache that was threatening.
His face settled back into simple, cold disdain, Stygian eyed the burning wreckage he had caused. Then he eyed the road around and behind them. He shook his head, and then turned his sharp stare toward Cog.
"We'll mess up the tracks so it will look like the car didn't stop here. Now, perhaps you'd like to take care of our unfortunate chauffeur?" he said pointedly, before stepping over to the car. He'd let the wolf cut him up if he wanted, just to see what kind of man he was. Of course, he'd rather he not.
Things happened rather quickly after his sword-stroke. Cog was relived to see Mel able to subdue his next foe with relative ease, and with a circular blur he manged to throw the blood of his sword and return it to his scabbard, seemingly at the same time.
Mel seemed to have the other officer well in hand, and Cog was about to turn and get back in the car when he saw his opponent standing right behind him. Were it not for the simple factor of shock, and the absolute knowledge that he had just removed that guys head, he would have again drawn and struck - then, he remembered.
Edge. Clever cubi.
Cog stepped back, content to let those two do their work. He'd just about re-entered the car when a wet, slushy, and yet also crunchy sound ripped down the road behind him. He turned to regard the other officer quite dead, and Edge's clone very damaged, amid some ripped up asphalt. The clone seemed to flow back into blood after tossing Edge a gun, and Stygian re-appeared soon after that, just after their cabbie ran screaming from the scene. Stygian was staring daggers at the wolf. Cog kept his face carefully blank, merely inclining his head.
Cog kept quiet as the bat began to tear up the scene, throwing the car this way and that, and causing a few unexpected explosions. He'd just leaned against the car, prepared to wait a moment before he noticed the bat regard him again. Cog again raised an eyebrow.
"Killing an armed man is one thing. He," Cog indicated the cabbie, "is not a threat. I'm not killing a unarmed man as he bleeds out in the grass."
Cog opened the car door and called out to the undead inside.
"We need another driver."
After having said as he had, Stygian started walking away to where he had stood his motorcycle. However, upon Cogidubnus' retort, he stopped abruptly and snapped around, immediately closing with the slightly taller wolf, his face a sudden grin and not two inches away.
"Good!" he snarled enthusiastically, fangs glinting.
"Glad you have your priorities straight! Now, can you please fetch him instead then?!" the bat then exclaimed, his nearly toxic scent of blood, ash and something dark up in Cog's nostrils. He held his blackened gaze on the wolf for a couple of seconds, then sniffed and turned, pacing away.
"Give him to Mel or Keaton. Either can do fine what I cannot," he said, back turned and walking briskly.
- -
It was with a dull headache and a nagging feeling of being out of place that Somber awoke. Fortunately for her, she was in a bed and not strung up from head to toe. There was still the matter of it being the wrong bed though. The sheets she lay on were red and dark, dark green satin and silk; definitely not what they had slept in at the tavern. Looking around, she noticed that the rest of the room seemed to go in the same sort of theme. It was tasteful, neoclassical, but with a streak toward the harsh and rough, with wrought black iron bars over the windows and in the chandelier and dark hardwoods as some of the main elements. The bed she was laying in was at least eight feet across, the head of it overshadowed by a large painting of some sort of ancient game or festival, people more or less clad in long flowing sheets dancing down a paved street in procession between colonnades and tables, against a soldier-lined hall. One might have wondered at the meaning of it. But then, one was normally not kidnapped and waking up in an entirely different bed.
The quick movement in the corner of her eye might have been overlooked by a less attentive person. But she was demon. And so she just caught sight of a canine woman in a snug corset, frilled skirt and pantyhose, and little else, slip out of the only door into the room, which closed behind her with a muffled clack.
Things happened in a blur. Talking (going poorly). Disguises (crappy). Guns (aimed at us). Violence (The crap!?). Not dead... Wait, more violence (Oh my god!). Running driver. Gunshots. Right, back to the present.
"He just fucking killed them," Richard muttered, shocked, "Just cops doing their jobs and he..." Cog demanding his attention snapped him out of it. He got out somewhat shakily and switched to the front seat, buckling himself in and putting on the radio; some music to calm his nerves. He took a deep breath (it didn't help like when he was alive, but allowed him time to collect himself) and turned toward the rest of the group still in or close enough to the car. "I'll get you to Red Sands, and then I'm not fucking involved in this." He'd never admit it to himself, but he'd rather hoped to be proven wrong about adventurers by these people. He most certainly expected better of Cog, the relatively calm-seeming one. Then again, his behavior at the bar should have been a clue.
Cog coughed once after Stygian spoke with him, and waved his assent as he left. He heard the undead murmur something as he stepped into the driver's seat.
"I understand." Cod nodded at Richard, pushing himself off the car. His voice was understanding, and a bit resigned. Whatever may be said for the musician, he wasn't all that hard to read.
Cog pushed himself off the car and walked into the brush, retrieving the moaning, and now again screaming cabbie back to the car. Mel and the others hadn't reentered the car yet, so he set him down near the side an motioned for them to come over.
"We need to erase his memory. Probably heal him too. At least git rid of that bleeding." Cog motioned to the blood trail behind him, the fluid now pooling around the man's leg.
Edge nodded and bent down to rescue the discarded first-aid kit from the quickly expanding pool of blood on the road. He set it down next to the rabbit and flipped it open. Examining the contents, he cocked his head, as if not quite sure how to proceed.
He laid a hand on the rabbit's shoulder. "Sit still." His voice remained soft, but the authoritative tone left little room for argument. "Don't worry. You haven't given us an excuse to kill you yet."
The fox held up a utility knife. A few quick, surgical slashes removed the pant leg around the injury. He inspected the bullet wound.
"The bullet went right through. We could just patch him up and drop him off at the hospital on the way in to town."
They were never going to get into the city at this rate. With a sigh for her growing headache Mel exited the car. "Allow me." Kneeling by the terrified driver she quickly got to work healing the wound that Edge had already begun cleaning. "Please stay still. This is a just simple healing spell," she cautioned the lapine. But the first spell she used wasn't for healing, it was a sleep spell. The healing was a quick process and it wasn't long before she had turned to working on his memory. It wasn't hard, he had no special shielding and the memories were at the forefront. The last hour disappeared from his mind. "That should be sufficient. Are we leaving him here or dropping him somewhere else?"
Edge shrugged. He absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder as he watched Mel work.
"He won't remember anything?" He looked up at Mel for confirmation. "Unless we're planning to blow up this car as well, we may as well leave him with it. It is his livelihood, after all."
After he finished cleaning up the blood, Edge took the strips of cloth and wrapped them back around the rabbit's leg. After a few seconds of magical manipulation, the driver's pants were once again clean and intact. No evidence of the injury remained. The fox's suit had somehow managed to remain a pristine white throughout the ordeal as well.
Satisfied with his work, Edge picked up the rabbit, carried him over to the passenger seat of the cab, and buckled him in. The fox then slid into the back seat.
"Why don't you park a few blocks from the club, Richard? Given our track record, driving up to people who actually want to hurt us may not be such a good idea."
After her slight ranting was done with, Aisha ducked as soon as Stygian managed to clean things up, at least somewhat, with an explosion that left her ears ringing and probably caught the attention of people a few miles away...at least that's what it felt like for a moment. Then, watching as the chauffer was dragged back, healed, and had his memory taken care of, Aisha simply shook her head and climbed back into her seat while the unfortunate lapine was comfortably placed back in front and everyone was zipping back to the car.
The venture was starting off on an interesting note indeed. Aisha had been within a party of hasty and bloodthirsty types before, but something in her gut said that if there were any more mistakes to be made, the price would only be paid in blood...as it had almost been with an innocent driver...as it was already with many dead mercenaries and two enforcers.
"Mel is indeed good at what she does," Aisha muttered back to Edge, leaning on the seat in front of her with her arms crossed comfortably over it. "Those of us who know her guarantee that there shouldn't be need for blowing him up. As for moving, I suggest we do that quickly."
It was easy to see that the panthress was quite on edge for the moment...but the slightly patient tone of her voice suggested that it wasn't all too unfamiliar to her.
Not stopping to watch as they dragged the chauffeur kicking and screaming back, and looking as if he was just generally bothered, certainly not as if he'd just thrown a car into a tree, Stygian turned his back to the others and walked down the road a bit to where his motorcycle stood hidden behind a large rock and some bushes. Leading it up on the road, he started it up again, and drove off, not looking back.
The limp rabbit in the back seat snoozed with twitching eyelids and the engine still hummed, as the open road lay ahead of the group, the bat a small silhouette slowly turning into a pinprick on his motorcycle.
Cog let Mel and Edge to their work, and sliding his sword back out of his belt he stepped into the car, sliding over to the next available seat. Sighing, he pushed his hat over his eyes and leaned back, waiting for the others to get back in so they could get moving.
Richard drove off when everyone was finally done with what they were doing and back in the car, fiddling with the radio every so often. He didn't floor it this time, taking a more cautious pace until he was just a couple streets away from Red Sands. Letting his passangers out with a gruff "Good luck," he drove away, leaving the car in a supermarket parking lot with its real driver still snoozing. With that, he set about walking home to his instruments, his couch, the thing of oysters he'd been saving (an undead's equivalent to a beer or a pack of cigs), and Marya, who'd be pissed off with him for coming home late and not calling. Oh, I'm gonna have one hell of a time explaining that...
Unfortunately for the undead, he didn't have much more time than walk up to the entry to the building he lived in, before someone grabbed him. Hard. And though he could hardly feel it, there was something about the quick swishing sound and the low female voice next to him that told him that it would be a quite bad idea to try something rash.
"Don't say anything. One wrong move and we'll rip your head off," the voice said, steady and calm. He was pushed on. "And keep walking. To your place. We just want to have a chat. Do this right, and your ladyfriend will go unharmed too."
- -
Unsurprisingly, Stygian was apparently nowhere in sight when they stepped out of the cab near the Red Sands, a rather large and classy-looking club occupying the full northern end of a tall old building, five stories and roof of renaissance-style architecture with a bit of modern thrown in. The sign hanging in front though depicted a view out from some orient-themed temple over a red desert and sun, with a pair of barely covered serving girls standing on wait to each side. It was not regularly a jazz club, it would seem, but rather a large theme-oriented place for the partly privileged and the shady types who'd enjoy such a place.
Richard was surprised, shocked, horrified, and was to a degree kicking himself. Nonsense, you're a musician, who's gonna pay attention? Idiot. As he continued onward, he went over what he knew. They obviously didn't know TOO much about him. First of all, they'd called Marya his ladyfriend. She was, if anything, his unofficially adopted big sister. Second, they'd threatened her. He'd seen that woman deck a demon. For a mongoose, she made one helluva bouncer.
Then again, whoever this was could apparently decapitate someone quickly and easily. Please let her be working late...
He went up to the third floor and opened the door, which opened looking right into the living room (ratty couch, potted plants that had gone wild over by the large windows, bookcase). It wasn't a luxury suite, but it was home.
It seemed that Marya had not been working late this day. However, she also seemed to be strangely fine, considering the situation. As she sat in the sofa, cautiously watching, opposite to her and leaning back in a chair sat a moderately tall, well-built man with just somewhat long black hair and a coyote's sharp muzzle, drinking a cup of bag tea and speaking pleasantly. When Richard and the as of yet unseen woman entered though, his ear twitched and he immediately got up. Dressed in a stylish but sleek robe in red with lines and details in different shades of silver, ranging from close to onyx up to the polished metal itself, he moved smoothly with an almost regal posture, smiling a humble and earnest smile toward the baboon.
"Really sorry for all of this, but it seemed necessary. Ah, Ace... You can put that away now..." he said. Quickly, the swishing sound was heard again, and the figure who had stood behind Richard stepped to the side, revealing itself to be a slightly shorter female figure nigh-completely hidden beneath a dark gray cloak. Only her somewhat canine muzzle peeked out from within the hood, just slightly.
"I'm honestly sorry. We had to take precautions. After all, these were no ordinary troupe whom you were with last night," said the jackal, making a sort of conciliatory gesture.
First thing Richard did was make sure Marya was alright, not one hair of her fur's banded brown pattern out of place. He looked at that familiar stern face for a good five minutes before he was willing to concede that she was unharmed.
"Well, since you apologized so nice. You alright Marya?" Lets see what I can get away with, "The oysters are still at the back of the fridge?"
"Yeah. Hey, I left my bandanna on the counter, pass it here," Yeah, she sounds pissed. They probably haven't laid a hand on her. If they had, she probably wouldn't have spoken at all. Richard nodded, balling up the red cloth and tossing it over to her with his free hand and carrying a tupperware full of still-living mollusks with his other. Marya immediately tied the bandanna on over her hair, letting her thick cable of a braid (dyed toxic green, with three totemic looking ceramic hair clasps) fall out the back of it.
"Don't mind if I indulge myself?" Richard gestured with the tupperware, producing a rather soothing clack of shells, "Not the most common of vices, but still living things are the only thing I can taste and these are the most socially acceptable snacks I can get my hands on." He sat down on the couch next to Marya, shoulders hunched.
Both of them simply looked at the jackal and the canine and waited, neither ever looking at the same one at once.
Cog's faced soured at looking at the outside of the place, and after looking around a moment for the bat leaned against a handy wall.
From what he remembered, they were to scout it out first, and then go and prepare. He silently hoped that bat hadn't gone in without them - having to rescue him would make this twice as hard. He sighed, and placed a hand over the hilt of his blade, his arm draping over it. Best to wait for the bat to return, or the explosions to start, he mused.
His eyes glittered under his shades. He did so enjoy being 'ambushed'...
Keaton watched everything occur rather soundlessly from the car, her normally vibrant-yellow face still colorless and eyes still owlish as she found her eyes inexplicably locked on the corpse on the ground. Only after she heard a gun fire she managed to pry her gaze away from the gruesome mess on the ground, her eyes traveling over to the wailing, writhing chauffeur twisting and screeching a distance away.
Ow. Keaton had never been shot before, surprisingly, but that had to hurt. Shortly after incapacitating their unfortunate driver, Stygian quickly and efficiently disposed of the vehicle--rather spectacularly, at that, as well. Six gunshots penetrated the crumpled car, making it explode in a glorious blaze. Everything else, in comparison, was rather dull. Cogidubnus refused to eliminate the lapine, eventually leading to Mel healing him (resourceful, that one) and him being chucked in the backseat.
Staring at the rabbit from over her shoulder, Keaton edged her way to the side, allowing a moment of silence to pass as everyone climbed back into the car. Cogidubnus seated himself somewhere beside her. Keaton glanced back and forth, examining the residents in the car.
Then she sighed. What a fine day this was turning out to be.
---
Stygian was apparently absent once they reached the Red Sands. Hefting herself out of the car, Keaton stretched her arms high over her head and rolled her shoulders, removing all traces of lethargy from her body. It was rather cramped in that car, so she was rather thankful that they had finally reached the club after so many delays. Burying her hands in her pockets, Keaton appraised the club, absorbing every minute detail. A rather classy place in appearance, it was definitely cleaner than what Keaton originally envisioned and definitely more ornate.
"So!" Keaton said pleasantly, clasping her hands together as she turned to everyone else. Richard had apparently driven off. "Now what do we do, now that we've reached our destination, which is likely going to end up destroyed in one way or another eventually?"
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Making a little dejected but still as calm smile, the jackal turned and sat himself down again.
'I'm... sorry. As I said, we know who you were out with yesterday, and...' he began, then chuckled and looked down, setting the finished cup of tea down. 'Look, it would be much better for you if you helped us with this. It so happens that we think some very dangerous events are about to transpire here, and we need your help to do as much about that as possible.'
The canine woman didn't sit down. She just pulled back her hood, revealing short grayish fur and the distinct jaw and neckline of a wolf, topped with short-cut and ruffled black hair. Her yellow eyes glinted in her beautiful but harsh face as she returned the baboon's and mongoose's looks in full.
There was a sudden, frantic knock on the door, which just a moment later opened and admitted a somewhat short and youthful-looking but powerfully built otter, dressed in a vest and tough but loose pants, and carrying a rather menacing sword that landed somewhere between falchion and cleaver. He was visibly tense.
'He was here, just now!' he said, holding up a little vial in which a dark red liquid swirled, giving off a very faint glow. 'I didn't get a clear look, but it had to be him!'
The jackal gave him a blank stare, and then turned back to their hosts.
'It would seem we have attracted attention. Meaning that we have even less time,' he said calmly, settling his serious gaze upon them both.
- -
It didn't take long from the point where the woman walked out, before slow and calm steps began pacing up behind the wall and low voices could be heard, though they were too faint for even Somber to distinguish what was being said. They did seem just slightly heated though.
One of the sets of feet then turned, and walked back away. The other pair, for she was sure there had been two, didn't seem to move. So it was just a little surprising when the door, several meters away, opened with a clack and a slow motion.
'Dreadfully sorry to be kidnapping you, but I just had to take a look...' began a female voice, calm, low and strong.
- -
'We're no' really aiming fer that, y'know?' said someone behind Keaton. The voice, a bit coarse and deep and with a slight nasal tone, belonged to an old man, an albatross sitting on a bench right behind them in a rumpled gray coat, his hand holding a bottle in a brown paper bag. His creased face bitter and indifferent, he gave Keaton a quick look, much sharper than he should have even been able to, and then took a swig from the bottle. He hadn't been there when they got out.
'Just goin' ta lookit the place. Ge' the idea. Big place like tha' sure gotta have sum open spots where we can gettin, know? O' we coul' jes steal sum invitations or send those o' you she don' know,' he went on to suggest in that slurry accent.
They were surprised when the otter entered with that vial of what was probably blood.
"Here? As in they were near our house!?"
"I sure as hell didn't invite him! I didn't even know he'd followed me!"
"Richard, what the hell did you do now?"
"What's this now business?" both of them shot each other looks that should have by all rights left the other a charcoal outline and a pair of comically smoking boots. Richard caved with a sigh and turned back to the jackal.
"What, exactly, do you want? Their plans? Don't think they have any. Their location? For all I know, pluto. What is it you need from me?"
"Destruction can't possibly follow us everywhere," Aisha hummed as she got out of the cab and none-too-carefully slammed the door on her side, the colors of her cape shifting from dark blue to a greyish-black with just a whispered word. The ride was smooth, for that she was thankful, and the road roughly clean in the daylight.
Beneath the folds of her cowl, Aisha glanced over the club that they had stopped in front of, and found herself just as intrigued as Keaton was over its design. Tilting her head, the panther still kept note that no matter the fact that perhaps they were to walk right into a hornet's nest, she hoped that the group was prepared. Of course, Stygian had disappeared on them again, an assessment that made her ears pin against her head.
"Think we should probably just go in yet--" she said, but stopped as she heard a ragged voice addressing Keaton from nearby, or if not her, some of the group as well. Her eyebrow quirked at the avian and shook her head dismissively, taking quiet note that they hadn't notice him there before. "Sounds like he knows us," she muttered.
The albatross barked a short laugh, and for an instant his eyes were black as they focused on Aisha.
'Ne'er mind thinkin' jes' a li'l bit firs', no? Hehehe...' he said, and moved a bit on his seat. 'No, I'd say we need someone ta go in ther', an' check the place out.'
The old bird got up from his seat wobbily, and slowly began walking off, gesturing lazily toward the others.
'C'mon. Le's talk this over before we ge' to it. They ain't open yet anyway, sho...' he said tiredly.
- -
The jackal looked at Richard just a bit more sourly.
'I just want to know who they all were, and where they were going. That's all. I can guess much as to his plans, but... You are referring to Stygian, right? Of course you are,' he said, and looked away out a window. 'He's far from the only one here we should worry about. But if he is dealt with, then this situation is effectively neutralized. Do you understand?'
As he spoke, the wolf next to him narrowed her eyes, her gaze losing itself and a bitter streak showing around her mouth. The otter just stood in the doorway, looking at them all, still seeming a bit edgy.
Richard mentally sorted out a few things such as what to tell them, whose names to drop, and how the hell he was going to deal with this while still keeping those of the group he liked out of the proverbial soup. He slurped down one of the oysters to buy himself time, letting the taste slide down his throat. He resented the comparison between an undead's cravings and a drug addicts, but sometimes the calming effect wasn't too far off.
"Ahhh..." he dropped the two shells back into the tupperware with a clack, and looked back up at the jackal, "I didn't get many names. It wasn't any sort of official thing, just a bunch of people who ran in the same direction when the flames hit the bar."
"When the what did what!?" Marya's eyes widened, I THOUGHT I smelled burnt meat! Thank ancestors, it looks like you got out okay. Better than okay... Who patched you up?
"Anyway, I didn't catch a lot of names. Styg was the bat with the motorcycle..." Who would they already probably know about? Who seemed like a major player in all this? The wolf knew him, he didn't seem all that shocked... "Gareeku, that's the big wolf with the sword. There was a Mel... Her appearance changed hourly, don't ask me about her. And a 'Cogidubnus'. Think that was his name, anyway. As for where they were going..." Richard reached for another oyster, "They knew I was leaving and washing my hands of the whole thing. The hell makes you think they told me the truth? Styg mentioned charging headlong into a trap."
Mel slid out of her side of the car and stepped away to let those behind her exit. She gave a vaguely disapproving look at the club. But in her current persona of a rich matron she gave everything and everyone a vaguely disapproving look. She saved a particularly strong one for the drunken bird with the familiar eyes who dared speak to the party. She followed, but managed to give off an impression that it was all a horrible coincidence that they were walking on the same sidewalk. As a corner was turned subtle changes occurred. Minute, almost subliminal, changes to the color, cut, and fabric of the dress changed it from haute to department store knockoff. Other subtle changes turned the feline from uptown to uptown wannabe and altogether more likely to be on this street with this crowd. A few steps from the corner Mel spotted the motorcycle, and in the deep shadows beside a cafe was Ignatz.
Cog raised an eyebrow at the Albatross, staring at it for a moment before a light grin began to tug at his features. It was a good disguise. Under the smell of alcohol, however, the bird reeked of smoke and blood.
He didn't say anything, however, and merely followed the bird as they started walking to their destination.
Aisha blinked for a moment as the dingy albatross passed them by, suddenly thinking that she recognized the dark look in his eyes. A little late she recognized what the others had, as they walked along behind the bird as per his request, and gave a short shake of her head.
Into the hornet's nest we go, then, she thought to herself, pulling the cowl further over her facial features, hands and arms hidden within the folds of the cape. Briefly, she wondered where Richard had gone, before shrugging it off. The Undead always liked complaining, perhaps it was best that he had distanced himself from the group...depending on who looked at it.
She followed behind the others, not as close and yet not as far away, and whispered a short prayer of luck. Aisha wasn't one to rely on the far-and-inbetween promise of divine intervention, but it never hurt to ask.
'That wouldn't be like him. Not from what I know. He's the one who sets the traps. Still, it's never easy...' The jackal muttered, and then snorted, tapping the armrest of the sofa.
'Maybe we should get going?' the wolf to his side said, coolly but a bit impatiently. The jackal shook his head.
'No. We're out to see what this is all about, and catch those behind it. Patience is a virtue, Ace. We wait until they move tonight, and then we may get a full grasp of the situation. Of course,' he said, and then directed a smile toward Richard and Marya, 'we'd appreciate all help that we can get here. And I doubt that just a bit of direction would be that dangerous.' Somehow, he managed to be courteous, polite, charming, and still not make that a question.
- -
Stygian looked at the others of the group a bit boorishly as they approached, and then pointed a thumb in the direction of the entrance to the café.
'Some coffee would sit just right with me right now,' he said, and turned, walking over toward the door.
'We won't get into the club this early, this soon. So we might as well think a bit.' Casually, he swung the door up and strolled in, looking for a table.
Richard slurped down another oyster. Marya reached for one too (she didn't like them much, but she needed something to occupy her hands and mouth. Hard to yell things about fucking sleezeball canines getting out of your house and punching someone with a mouthful of mollusk and hands occupied opening said mollusk).
"Never easy at all," Richard nodded, his tone leaving no doubt that he was not referring to the Jackal's situation. He swallowed the mouthful of shellfish and sighed, "They had me drop them off by a club called Red Sands. That's all I got for ya."
Edge stepped out of the cab, slipped on his shades, and stretched out after the long car ride. He said his goodbyes to his new Undead drinking buddy and set off towards the club. As everyone else was dressing down for the club infiltration, he pulled off his tie and unfastened the top few buttons of his black shirt. Combined with the white suit and the time of day, his new look was a bit on the gangster side, but he figured it fit well enough with this motley group of adventurers.
Not wanting to attract too much attention by milling about outside, he turned into a magazine shop near the cafe. He emerged a minute later and strolled into the cafe with a newspaper tucked under his arm. Soon, he was seated at a table across from Stygian with a steaming cup of dark, vanilla-flavoured coffee.
The fox unfolded his paper and began reading as the others filed into the cafe. It was a local rag with a full colour image of a smouldering bar splashed across the cover. The headline read "DOWNTOWN DEATHTRAP!" with "Ten Killed in Bar Explosion" in smaller print underneath. The bottom of the page featured such gems as "Bask in the Red Sands: Haszal's Hottest Club" and "Trouble with your ex? Hire a Bounty Hunter today!"
The door opening with the tinkle of a bell, Cog and the rest of the party entered the cafe. Taking a deep breath of the sweet, coffee scented air, he found a smaller table by the window and sat, and contemplated getting another cup of the water of life.
On the one hand, it was the water of life. On the other hand, he was no stranger to these coffee shops. They made it not quite strong enough to eat through the cups. Considering he'd already had four back at the hotel, he wasn't too keen on any more. He didn't need to get wired, after all.
Instead, Cog leaned back and admired the city, and thought about getting a bagel, maybe. A bagel might be good. If they weren't going to leave anytime soon, anyway. He could always come back later. Might be a good motivation to survive the next battle, he reflected, and grinned sardonically to himself.
Ordering a caffé mocha, Stygian sat back and hummed, drawing a deep breath and looking around, waiting for the others to seat themselves before speaking. His mocha came in very nearly a latte, rather less strong than he'd have wanted, but he took it without fuss. A second glance around the room showed no signs of anything out of the ordinary. There was the waitress behind the counter, a feline couple discussing something over a newspaper at another window table, a mythos girl with intense red hair sitting and drinking a latte, holding her spoon above the counter, the hum of a refrigerator and the gnashing of a coffee grinder. Outside the windows, the sky was turning a light gray.
'Rumor and slander are things you spread, not things you read,' he said distractedly, stirring his coffee and not looking at Edge. He sat silent a few more moments, wondering about what to say. In the end, he couldn't find anything pleasant to speak of, so that left only business right away.
'We need to decide who are going to take a look at the place,' he said in a casual tone.
'And you're volunteering.' He set his eyes on the fox now.
- -
'Well, that certainly is a good start. I'd like you to come with us though,' the jackal continued, as calm and friendly as a sweet old grandfather. 'It would be most helpful.'
Marya nearly choked on the oyster she'd grabbed, "Alright you sonova bi-!" Richard's arm practically blurred as he clamped it over her mouth, holding her muzzle shut.
"Marya, I don't think that'll work here..." they both simply looked at each other a while. Finally, the undead took his hand off of Marya's mouth and she turned away slightly.
"You're going to get yourself killed."
"Too la-"
"Don't give me that bullshit!" Now Richard turned away, abashed.
"... Will I need to go armed?" He said, reaching for another oyster, "Or would that get in the way of what you have in mind?"
Aisha said nothing to Stygian as they found him near the café entrance...and with her face shielded none could really tell her expression. The panthress for the duration of this venture was going to keep it that way, as long as possible. The scent of coffee entered her nostrils as she came through the door with the others, a quick glance spared around the other customers of the morning. Perhaps they stood out as well as before, but for once it was nice to not have been given the time of day.
Her eyes caught the headline of the paper that Edge was reading for just a brief second, and it was confirmed...definitely nice to be ignored.
The panthress didn't order anything right away, instead seating herself at a table that was both nearby the group and also near to a window where she could keep a small watch. She was already wide awake, and never depended on drinks for aid in that aspect...the adrenaline rush on the road to the club was enough for that. Her ears scanned the interior, taking in the noises and conversation.
Stealing a quick glance at the dark fox as Stygian "volunteered" him for looking around the club, she had to smirk. Good as anyone but not one of us...
"Oh, you'd be surprised. Those sneaky journalists are always poking their noses where they don't belong."
Edge, apparently engrossed in his reading, didn't make eye contact. He pulled a page out of the middle of his paper and set it down on the table in front of Stygian. It featured a full page spread on the Red Sands, with a photo of a rugged but elderly leonine Demon surrounded by scantily clad serving girls. It looked like a serious article at first, except that it also contained a rough floor plan with such annotations as "Fire Exit" and "Roth Starr's Table" scribbled all over it. That, and the text of the article began: "Ever wanted to infiltrate the hottest club in Haszal? Then you won't want to miss this..."
The fox took a sip of his coffee. "The club's a big place. I only saw part of it when I met with Starr yesterday, and I had little time or incentive to go poking around in back rooms or employee areas. I'm supposed to report back to him today. Presumably, he's got some contingency in place to deal with survivors of the op, so it could be interesting to explore that avenue. He's either a middleman with the next link up the chain or your lady friend in disguise."
He shrugged. "At any rate, it's a safe bet that almost everyone here would be known to him, at least in their current forms. I know that, of course, because he received descriptions of the people who helped you at the bar. He was even nice enough to place bounties on a few of them." His tone maintained such casual disinterest in the subject matter that he may as well have been talking about the weather. He took another sip of his coffee.
"It seems rather silly to wait until the place opens to walk into their trap, however. The employees and any extra muscle will be there early, and they'll either be in the loop or sufficiently unimportant to serve as covers when the fun begins."
'Yes, very amusing...' Stygian muttered, and took a sip of his coffee. He paused for a bit, and then fixed his eyes very solidly on Edge's.
'Again, our senses of humor prove quite different. Firstly,' he continued, raising a finger,
'we're going to do it as silently and peacefully as we can. Secondly,' He raised another,
'we don't need to go in there early, and the more patrons, the more cover. Thirdly,' he said, and raised a final one, claw stretching,
'we still need to spy the place before we know where and when. And for that, I'd say only a few should go.' Satisfied, the bat went still and sipped his cup again, leaning back.
'Besides, you didn't think that the extra muscle might actually be bugged, or that they might be more sensitive to strangers than you might think. You're cubi, I know, but that only counts for so much. And Ash is a scary person. Honestly, I don't think that anyone here has much idea what we're getting into.'- -
The jackal looked nearly shocked at Richard's question.
'That, you may choose as you wish,' he said, after a brief pause and setting his face again. 'Of course we won't expect you to get into any danger. Heavens... We're not that sort of people.' Just then, his face lit up, and he shook his head with a sudden smile.
'Sorry. Where are my manners? I am Laertes,' he said, smiling pleasantly. 'This here is Ace,' he said and gestured to the wolf, who was still looking at them, 'and that is Carey.' The otter gave a slight smile and a nod.
Mel wasn't interested in coffee but picked out a fruit-filled pastry that she carried back to the table. "Who do you wish to go with you?" She looked at her watch. "The Hall of Records should be open shortly. Variations between what people report and what they actually do are often interesting. For example I've found the floor plans given to the city are often erroneous."
Not those sort of-!? I honestly think I preferred Ace threatening me. At least she's honest about it. "Richard. Sorry if the question seemed odd, but I've been caught helpless enough times in the last 48 hours. Where was that stuff from incident a year back, Marya?"
"Hall closet, under the coats," carefully avoiding sudden movements around Ace Richard stood up and collected a pair of cruel looking tomahawks from said closet. They weren't weapons any self respecting adventurer would wield. The blades were stone, and thus didn't keep a perfect edge. This made them no less dangerous, it merely guaranteed that they wouldn't make a clean cut. They were meant to mutilate or kill, a threat in physical form. He tucked the weapons into his belt and threw on a coat to hide them. Don't want to be scrutinized with those on the street, after all. Cops don't take well to such things.
"Well Laertes, Ace and Carey. Now what?"
Edge shrugged without giving any indication of whether or not he agreed with the bat's assessment. When Mel arrived, he finally lowered his newspaper to consider the others in the cafe. He looked back down at his oversimplified floor plan of the club and nodded.
"Well... who here is good at not looking like one of the people they're waiting for?"
Cog looked up from his contemplations, and made a small grin at the cubi, tilting his head. "That depends, of course. What do 'ourselves' look like? Black-clad wolf with a sword? A panthress in red garb, and a..." Cog looked at Mel, quirking an eyebrow, "An eternally changing feline? A disguise might not be so hard." Cog looked back out the window, tapping a finger idly.
"Any one of us might do. I've got a good nose, but we're not looking for people, really. I'll go if no one else volunteers." Cog propped his elbow up onto the table and leaned into his hand, looking at Mel from the corner of his eye. "Of course, some of us seem more inclined to intelligence gathering, perhaps."
Keaton followed the others into the cafe wordlessly, still slightly in shock that the Albatross turned out to be Stygian. The guy was a better shapeshifter than her, she realized somewhat reluctantly (Keaton winced at this blow to her normally impenetrable pride). Once they made it inside, Keaton immediately took a seat at a table, not bothering to order anything--especially not coffee. Keaton never liked the stuff, even after five hundred years of existence. To be honest, she quite obviously preferred alcohol, as demonstrated before, as unhealthy for her as it was. But come on, she was a frickin' Cubi! Certainly she'd have more of a tolerance to alcohol than most beings?
Well, it made more sense in her mind.
From then on she listened to everyone's conversation, surveying and contemplating. When the question of who could easily disguise themselves came up, Keaton was quick to respond after Cogidubnus, draping her arm lazily over the back of the chair and folding her leg over the other. "If you want a shapeshifter and an actor, you have one right here," she said proudly, pointing to herself with her thumb. She needed an opportunity to repair her ego. "So I'd be more than happy to volunteer."
Of course, there were several others in the group capable of shapeshifting. Like Stygian... and Mel... and this new Cubi fellow... come to think of it, quite a few of them could alter their appearances and put on quite the facade.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Aisha turned towards the others as Cogidubnus and Keaton easily answered the call to volunteer, and tried to consider an answer of her own while fingering the edge of her cape, the black-grey fabric nearly blending in with her melanistic fur. She had to admit that one point stood clear. The job of scoping the place out in the open belonged to the shapeshifters. However stealthy the huntress was, she did not have that talent. The next best thing was the enchantment of camouflage that her clothing possessed.
"The garb is red when I want it to be," Aisha smirked jokingly in reply to Cogidubnus as she approached the table where they were, pulling her cowl back a little and revealing a serious look permeating from the crimson orbs...business-like. "I couldn't volunteer for doing the job of the shapeshifters, but, if a back-watcher is needed, just tell me where to stand."
Then she smirked again. After all, she lived on waiting behind the front line...not inside of it.
Sitting back and just holding his cup, Stygian was conflicted. Some people were just plain out for taking along; Cogidubnus was possibly unknown to the others, but wasn't really a candidate for stealth so far. Gareeku's odd eyes and general behavior ruled him out as well. And Aisha was definitely not an option at this time. On the other hand, Edge was an excellent, if forced, choice, and Keaton might make a good candidate. The cubi had made a good point of Mel being better for information gathering purposes as well. Not to mention that Keaton wasn't involved in this particular thing, and he didn't want her to be. He needed confidantes, ones that could work elsewhere. And at this point, it was better to focus at them one at a time. Thus, Edge, whom he wanted check on, and Mel, who he knew and who was competent, but distant.
'Alright. Me, Edge and Mel go scout the club,' he said, firmly. If he was going to be the leader of this group, then he might as well do a good job.
'Isha, Gar and... Shades here; you're watch duty. If and when things go wrong, you start kicking down doors and cover our exit. Keaton,' he said, and then smirked toward the Jackal.
'You, I've got a special job for.' Sipping up the last of his cup, Stygian rose suddenly, stepped by the redhead and paid, and then came back to the table with a napkin and a pencil.
- -
The jackal, Laertes, looked up and just raised his eyebrows at Richard. He seemed pensive for a second, then spoke plainly and calmly.
'Now, we wait. Don't worry; I already have an associate who is following them. We just need you for confirmation. That is all.'
'I still think this is unneccessary, Les,' the wolf said, chill clinging to her words. 'We're wasting time here. Half of them have bounties on them, the others are probably criminals. All we need is
him, and this is taken care of.' Her accentuation on "him" was jagged, contemptuous.
'I've told you, Ace... He contacted the panthress and told her to kill him himself. He tipped the jackal about her sister, renewed his bounty, and I am fairly certain he called the wolf somehow too. Even more, he is leading us right to the Thirteen. Are you about to pass up on this sort of opportunity?' Laertes answered right back at her, composedly but as if he was disappointed with her for not thinking beforehand.
'That's what I'm saying!' she snapped. 'It's too much! I want
him, and I don't care what the Order thinks.'
"Oh," Richard replied, surprised, "Sorry then. You mentioned someone being here, figured you were in a rush." He nodded at Carey, "Just to clarify, who was here? I thought you meant the cheerful little flying plague carrier, but I'm pretty sure I saw him get out of the car." It seemed too obvious to ask about this Order or Thirteen, in a 'when we tell you we'll have to kill you' sort of way. Best ask the questions that nobody will care about too much.
Marya resisted the urge to snort derisively at Ace's outburst. It sounded almost pathetically familiar.
Keaton listened to Stygian's instructions with an expectant look on her face, ears pivoted upright and eyes locked intently on the chiropteran sitting nearby. Clearly, she was waiting for the moment when Stygian would mention her duties with an almost foreign amount of enthusiasm. When he did, however, surprise replaced the anticipation, her ears tilting individually to reflect her slight confusion. Special job? Now what the hell did he mean about that? She should've been suspicious, but instead, Keaton found that brief flash of emotion begin to be substituted with something akin to confidence.
"Special job? Alright," Keaton said, folding her arms and smirking toothily. "Whatever you have for me, I'll tackle it."
When Stygian left momentarily and returned with a pencil and a napkin, Keaton leaned to the side slightly, trying to locate an appropriate angle to view his devices from.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Stygian was quick to soften the smirk on his face to a content smile. He brushed the bangs out of his eyes, and chuckled.
'Don't be too cocky. Still, I'm sure you can handle it,' he said, and let the grin slip.
'I'll be wanting you to keep an eye on Richard, and anyone with him. If I'm right, then he's in a bit of a pinch right now, and we'll want him watched. As for the rest of us...' He handed the pencil to Edge and looked at the fox seriously.
'A layout. As simple as you can get. Or you can tell us. It works either way. We'll scout out the details, and then see what we get together. You others,' he said, and looked around,
'can take a break, actually. Let's meet up back here at five. I think we'll know what to do by then.'- -
The otter looked a bit confusedly at Richard.
'The bat,' he said plainly. 'Stygian.'
'You're acting much too rashly. I thought you said you knew him,' Laertes continued, his tone growing firmer. 'You've never taken him head-on, and he always keeps check of the situation. That's why we should be careful, and let him get deep in. He won't be able to escape so quickly if he's occupied.' The wolfess snorted.
'I've only ever faced him alone or nearly so. You can't outsmart him or outmaneuver him. He'll let you walk right up to him and then you'll find you've just stepped off a cliff. I'm telling you, the only way is to overwhelm him! Don't give him time to think!' Ace insisted back at him frustratedly.
'We are
not giving him time to think. We do not have anyone following us, and even if he has us watched, all he will think us is another factor to throw into the chaos. He will not expect us to act with determination, nor the backing we have. And what is more, we can follow him. We have the advantage, and we will use it, Ace! Is that understood?'
The jackal and wolf's eyes locked for a few moments that seemed minutes. Then, Ace sighed and broke away, and Laertes did the same only a second after. His face sour for a second, he exhaled, and then looked toward their hosts again, as if nothing had happened.
'Do you have more tea, mayhap?'
"See now, that's who I thought you meant. However, if he was HERE, as in nearby where we are now, that wouldn't be all that good because that brings the number of untrustworthy people who know where I live to four or more."
"Over in the kitchen, in the cupboard. It's to the left of the olives," Marya replied to Laertes. She wasn't about to get up to offer him any.
Aisha listened carefully to the bat's decision of layout while leaning over the table, and she couldn't help but notice how strategic it seemed. The panthress expected her position to be as such, as well as Gareeku's, and Edge's, as well as the others. The one that most needed to be watched was going to be so...everyone else, trusted to keep the watchers alive.
"Works for me," she said neutrally while leaning up from the table and looking idly about the shop, but glanced curiously at Stygian when he added that Richard might be in a bit of trouble, on a good guess. At this point, on the wrong end of the law in that city, anything short of trouble was possible.
With an exasperated hum, her eyes turned back down to the table again. She still didn't feel like drinking or eating anything...so for her break, she had to think of something to do until then. She was partial for staying with everyone...but on the other hand, there were probably shops that had some useful things to browse for whatever lay ahead. I'm definitely going to need some lightweight pieces of armor at least, she thought, the previous night's battle still lingering in her head...one of those memories never to be erased. At this point and time it was quite highly advised.
"I will be around close then," she simply said, then started out of the cafe when everyone was to be dismissed. At least acting seperately they wouldn't be suspected as a group.
"We can watch the door, yeah." Cog said, leaning back in his chair. "Walking into a sprung trap is always better than the alternative." he said, looking out at the city again. "
He stayed quiet until the bat mentioned taking a break, to which he raised his eyebrow, and shrugging he cracked his neck.
"Breaks are nice too. Five O'clock it is." Cog stood and headed for the door. "I need to get certain items recharged, if anyone wants to get anything like that. Or if anyone knows and enchanter worth a damn in this city."
The bell on the door tinkled as he left the coffee shop.
Edge regarded the napkin with a quizzical expression. He shrugged and copied out his map from the fake news page, this time simplifying the lines and substituting the clutter of colourful arrows for a neat legend at the bottom. This time, exits to the outside were marked "doors to kick down when things go bad", and employee areas were labelled "staging grounds to trap Stygian".
He sighed. "I could do a better job if I had some idea what we're looking for."
Stygian quirked an eyebrow.
'Looking for? We're being looked for, more like it. And that's why we're going to waltz in there, packing a lot of heat and capable of making an unexpectedly immediate exit. Just trouble, and all in order to get to know what it is that is really going on.' He smirked, and kicked back his coffee. When done, he put on a more serious face, and stood.
'Right then. Let's get going. No point in waiting for what has already passed by,' he said, and without waiting stepped outside. He shot a narrow-eyed glare toward Cog's neck before the wolf disappeared, and then waited, slipping out a cigarette.
- -
Laertes got up with a sigh and went to the kitchen. Pointedly, Ace stood where she was, and Carey placed himself leaning on the wall, where he could keep watch over all of the room. The jackal returned in a few minutes, blowing on his tea and murmuring.
'There should be nothing to worry about, mister Trochoufski. We will be gone quite quickly. And if I understand things right, Stygian wouldn't bother with coming after you.'
Was that true?
If events thus far were any indication, probably not.
"You'll forgive me if I don't take your word for it, but it isn't the first time I've heard someone say that there would be nothing to worry about," Richard replied, "Pardon my paranoia."
Mel popped the last bit of the pear pastry in her mouth and dusted off her hands before standing. She took a long glance at the map the cubi had drawn, in her mind overlaying it with the one from the tabloid, carefully noting differences. It would have been nice to have a minute to pop into the city records office to see what they were officially claiming for a floorplan, but life tended not to grant favors. She followed the others out, but not too closely. She paused and looked at a display of coffee mugs for sale. She puzzled over one that showed a young girl in front of a far too elaborate coffee machine for a moment before exiting the building.
The City was much like every city Cog had ever had the pleasure to visit, if only colored a bit grayer and colder. Not that it was drab - far from it. The place merely seemed...disconnected, almost. Dispassionate. Not the apathy of other great cities - it was not a place of unkindness, but rather of seeming boredom. The streets were far less full than he would have expected of a place like this, and the air seemed crisp even in the noonday sun.
Of course, Cog was a foreigner there. Everything he'd seen thus far had been strange.
Taking a moment to get his bearings, he asked a random passer-by for directions before heading off into the city. He made sure to remember the streets he passed, to make sure he got back in time.
It wasn't too terribly long before he found what he was looking for. Working mages were rare, and ones that lived in large cities were usually employed privately - but adventuring usually carried with it a high demand for magical items and such arcane services, and bigger cities always had such places for those with the coin. Cog passed under a sign to a place marked very simply 'Iggy's', the doorbell tinkling with his entry.
As seemed to be the case with the city, the interior was lavishly decorated, but...sparsely populated. Only one or two people milled about the store, obviously not interested in buying anything. One of them, some sort of feline by the look, gave him a narrow glance before returning her blue eyes to the shelves. Cog quietly ignored her and approached the main counter, manned by a reptile of some sort. The lizard had a bored expression on his face, and seemed to pay Cog little mind.
Cog tilted his hat to the reptile. "Good day, good sir." Cog said, putting his hand in his jacket and removing various items from around his body. "If you might be so kind, I need these things recharged, and perhaps a replacement for this one." Cog indicated a piece of twisted silver that had half-melted.
Edge drained the last his coffee as Stygian stepped out with the wolf. "Well, the plan certainly sounds silent and peaceful when he puts it that way." Smirking, he set down the empty cup and refolded his newspaper.
The fox got up, left the waitress a nice tip, and tossed the tabloid into the recycling bin. The newsprint smudged and faded when it landed on the other papers. He glanced up at the wall clock, then parked his hands in his pockets and strolled out the door after the others, whistling softly to himself.
Keaton shrugged in response to Stygian's comment about not getting too cocky, that ubiquitous smirk tugging at the edge of her lips. When she heard the details of her special assignment she listened carefully, ears quirked and eyebrow raised, smirk vanishing. A pinch? Great, what did Richard get himself into? It was a possibility that he was pursued by some of the same people who had assaulted them back at the Dragon's Grin, she surmised.
When Stygian stood up after completing his drawing of the layout, she followed suit, stretching her arms outward and exercising her body slightly. Ah well, it didn't matter that her mission wasn't as extravagant as she originally imagined it to be. She still had the opportunity to practice her shapeshifting abilities, as well as cement her usefulness. Humming to herself, Keaton followed the others, hands nestled in her pockets.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
When Edge came out, Stygian looked quickly at him and then back to the café until Mel came out to join them. They set off at a brisk walk back toward the club. As they passed through an alley, the shadows seemed to gather to the bat, making looking at him clearly hard, as when one is trying to see something clearly when it's too dark. It took a short while, before he reemerged, now in the form of a stoat with graying red fur and a pair of little round pince-nez.
'Corner of the building, several floors... And they've covered the windows...' he commented as they casually walked by, passing a clean and sharp but still brutish-looking equine bouncer keeping check of the back door, and turned into a bookstore. 'I'm sure they've got some barriers, but that sort of place mostly only inhibits certain types of spellcasting. Most like to depend on guards instead, in my experience. Mel?' He looked quickly to the dragon while flipping through a rather thick novel that looked like it was based on some adventurer's autobiography.
- -
The lizard looked up dully, as if Cog were a rather strange but uninteresting animal that had suddenly come and made some odd and disturbing sound while he was busying himself with more important things. He looked over the various items the wolf had extracted and then made a sort of coarse harrumph.
'Right. Not that I have many. I'll see what I can do,' the tired saurian commented, and turned, ducking into the back of the shop and vanishing for some time. Behind Cog, the feline exited with the tinkle of a bell and was circumvented by a woman in a long coat, who walked through the shop and stopped where she could look at some ornate magical daggers, close to Cog with her back turned. The same woman who had sat in the café earlier; there was no mistaking that almost scarlet red hair.
'Here we are,' the lizard said, returning from around the corner and placing his trinkets on the counter, along with a replacement silver piece. 'I had a little trouble with that one, but Iggy fixes. That he does.' He punched in some keys on an old cash register and gave Cog the price, a favorable but not remarkable one, and then returned to reading a grimy book while leaning in a chair.
- -
The jackal regarded Richard's comment with the same calm as before, ignoring it with a clear attitude of knowing better. He waved casually to the baboon as he sat down, wisps of steam rolling off his tea.
'Trust me, he'll be much too occupied and tied up to mind you amid of all of this. He has a group of people with him too, and I doubt they would all approve. Certainly not some,' he said, sounding entirely certain. Still, with an explanation like that one couldn't help but wonder. 'And even if things go amiss, that will only mean that he is more likely not to have the time and possibility.'
"I can't believe this..." Gareeku growled softly. Anger could sensed from his growls, and deep inside, the wolf was absolutely furious. "Thanks to some pure unbelievable stupidity, we now have the blood of a police officer on our hands, and for some reason which I will probably never understand, we ended up with the car in a fucking tree..."
It was only now that the events that had occured some time ago began to sink in. Gareeku had been stunned by what had happened, and that was no easy thing to do to a warrior who had seen it all.
"Pure stupidy...absolute stupidity..." the wolf continued to growl softly. "Someone needs to get their fucking head checked...and something about this isn't right either...I can sense it..."
As Ignatz pointed out the club Mel looked it over carefully. Lots of protection, but completely standard for any successful business. Nothing looked out of place. High quality, heavy duty but no customizations. "I only see the typical wards I would expect on a business that handles a lot of cash. But I'd hide the surprises inside myself." She eyed the hoodlum wannabe dressed cubi. "Any plans for entering?"
Cog nodded gratefully to the shopkeeper, paying quickly and securing the various items back in their various places. He took special interest in the piece Iggy had replaced, the thing nearly indistinguishable from his previous one. He nodded - the protective charm would hold, perhaps a little better than the old one. You had to pay dear for new equipment, but sometimes the price was worth it...
"Very nicely done. Thank you." he said, as they shopkeeper rang up the charges. Cog said nothing at the price, simply reaching into his jacket and giving the shopkeeper a handful of silver coins. Iggy accept them with a half-grunt, apparently immersed in his book. Cog turned without further comment, intent on leaving the shop and finding some other things he needed.
Or, maybe, he might stay - they were walking into an ambush, and he wished to be prepared. There might be something there. Cog scanned the shelves disinterestedly, looking between the alembics and eldritch lab equipment for something he could use. As he scanned, he found himself again attracted to the collection of magical knives, one of the blades catching his eye. To his left, however, was a woman with strikingly red hair - he thought for just a moment, the hair giving him pause, when Cog raised an eyebrow and turned, picking up a piece of chalk that was glowing blue in the fluorescent lights. He studied it a moment, seemingly interested, and set it down after some scrutiny.
He walked past the woman, inhaling deeply, and left the shop, the bell tinkling loudly as he left. He began to walk down the sidewalk, one hand casually leaning across his sword hilt and the other busy adjusting his shades, his steps quiet on the concrete.
Despite walking pretty much beside herself in a city that was surely after their heads, Aisha felt like taking a deep breath of fresh air, finally, after going out a little ways away from the cafe and into the district where the shops were. "Mierda..." she cursed beneath her breath, her voice hidden in the folds of her cape hood, still colored dark grey as she had willed the camouflage enchantment. She had to admit that the bit of magic had done well for her so far in the time that she's had it. Genius, Rynkura. It helped to keep a profile hidden away from recognition, however long it would work.
The panthress wandered the streets, keeping an eye out. She knew that Cogidubnus had also gone into that part of town, somewhere nearby. The others were busy with that plan of theirs. Aisha shook her head...she still couldn't believe the crew that had been brought together. Four adventurers that she recognized...one she hadn't talked to all that much, but was still a help...one whom she had once thought was dead, but only in some ways...and two who were once against them, now for. Plus a bunch of strangers.
"Adaptation..." she hummed. The word and the concept she was often familiar with. But suddenly, her thoughts snapped out of it as she spied the armory shop that she was looking for, bringing her out of darker imaginings for the future. After a brief look around, Aisha pushed the doors open, a little bell signifying her entry. She pulled the cowl away to reveal her face, just a friendly gesture to the one behind the desk. The walls were filled with quite a few displays of shields and steel plated things, perfect for what adventurers sought in battle and travel. There were even a few weapons she wouldn't have minded putting in her collection. The temptation was quite harrowing.
But, Aisha couldn't be wasting coins...she knew what she wanted. "Perdón...excuse me," she nodded to the storekeeper, a burly-looking ox. He looked up to see the cowled female jaguar, not the least bit intimidated by the surroundings, and definitely carrying the adventurer's poise. "I don't suppose you have a decent set of leather armor...or something equally lightweight here, perchance," she inquired. Aisha almost doubted it after asking. It was like the armor bandits wore that she was seeking. But they had to get it somewhere.
Uninterestedly but never veering with his eyes, Stygian flipped through the book.
'None very complicated. We, or you, go in under the guise of ordinary guests or workers. I bring something dangerous and explosive along through the back door, play them their trick back. We sit down, have drinks, I go talk to Ash and see what it is that she wants... Hopefully it's just me she's after, and you people can get out of there. I know how not to need someone to cover my back,' he said. The idea of him not coming out of there didn't seem to bother him much.
- -
The bull's face didn't change a hair. He switched the toothpick he was chewing on through his teeth, and looked her up and down. Then he simply asked;
'How light?'
- -
The noon rush was in full going, as Cog had to weave to move smoothly through the crowd. A few vehicles rolled down the streets, and quite a few bicycles darted past every now and then. The atmosphere was almost that of every other ordinary city of Haszal's size; businesslike, hard and quick. Most of the main streets were very clear save the moving of the mass, since no peddlers or hawkers were allowed to sell their wares anywhere but the squares. Even the back alleys were kept empty save for the shingles hanging above shops and pubs. And that was where Haszal differed. Every other city that large or greater would have been a little more rough, a little more diverse. The bustling, noisy but familiar feeling wasn't there. The greatly differing architecture or style wasn't either. The atmosphere was crisp and quiet, the buildings tall and clean. And there were no people who were visibly creatures in the crowd.
Thoughts like that were the perfect to distract a stranger, like Cog. It was, of course, hard to pinpoint the precise difference, but once one knew it was there, it was perfectly clear. It wasn't something that one should
let oneself be distracted by, of course. Just as he passed a crossing he saw, in the reflection of the large front window of a restaurant on the opposite side of the street, a brief flash of clear red.
Almost obediently Keaton followed the group, trailing a few feet behind Stygian as though in clear anticipation of when he would give send her the directions to Richard's house, where she would begin her Valiant Rescue Mission--as she had christened her assignment a few minutes after he had explained the details of it to her.
When they stopped Keaton remained vigilant, peering around while Stygian rifled through his seemingly uninteresting book. Even while he laid out the plans for their raid Keaton listened attentively for where she would come in, hoping that the opportunity for her to exercise her abilities would come soon.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
While she had waited for the shopkeeper's response, Aisha casually leaned on the front desk and eyed some of the gleaming blades and decorations adorning the walls. The hardy voice caught her attention again however, and she thought for a second on how to describe what she was looking for. But it was quite easy to picture at least.
"Light enough to move around in fairly easily, for the wearer to be quick and nigh undetectable," she said, a straightforward enough description, no waste of time. He could tell that the panthress knew what her trade required...bounty hunter was the perfect guess. "Yet tough enough to withstand a few nice blade slices if need be." The battle from before was still fresh in her mind. Next time it would have probably been her flesh to be ripped instead of her clothes.
She stood up straight again, fingering the pouch of coins at her side. The price couldn't have been too steep, but she more than likely had enough left over. "I wouldn't mind it also being in good condition," Aisha then added, nodding politely. "If you please."
The bull took a long, hard look at Aisha, scratching the stubble on his cheek, and then rose from his seat. He towered over her, his neck straining his tight shirt and his tree trunks for arms rippling.
'Come on. I wanna show you something,' he said, and opened the door to the counter before walking back into what had to be the storage. When Aisha followed, she found him hunkering over a newly opened crate of some kind.
'This is the latest stuff we have. Now mind ye, this ain't that fancy enchanted stuff you adventurers are so used to...' he said, before pulling a padded vest of some sort out of the packing. 'It's armored vests. New stuff that MarCo makes.' He slapped one of the pads for emphasis. 'Thin metal over a layer of weave, and then tiles. Nothing fancy, but it works wonders against a blade. Will stop a few bullets as well. But it's mostly made to be light. And there's no metal together, so it's soundless as a shirt.' He threw the vest to her and smiled. 'Try it on.'
- -
Stygian looked up briefly to see Keaton hovering over him. Of course. How stupid of him. He put the book back and resumed scanning between the volumes on the shelf in front of him.
'
Keats, why don't you go ahead? It's out the door to the right, and then right again. Not half a mile from here straight along that line. You'll see a movie theatre, and then a pair of tall, gray apartment houses with black roofs. Can't miss it. It's entrance number four,' he said, and then gave her a confident look. '
All you need to do is keep an eye out for who is there with him. You can come back when you know. Or you can take a look around.'
As Cog caught the streak of red flashing off the glass and narrowed his eyes. From the coffee shop, to the enchanter, and finally down the road. He carefully avoided turning around, or letting on he noticed at all, and instead breathed in, absorbing the scents in the air. He could smell the perfume she'd been wearing in the shop - lavender and cinnamon. His face reflexively soured, but he quickly calmed himself, and waited for the sign to change to 'walk'.
There could be no mistaking it, at this point. He'd have to lose her, somehow. And though he was certain she was a tail, killing her was out of the question. Not out in the open, and certainly not without making completely, utterly sure, first. And that would entail questions.
Besides. Cog mused. I've been a little on edge, recently. Less blood would be better.
As soon as the red sign changed to the little green man, Cog again began weaving through the crowd, somehow...unnerved, by the simple actions of the populace. Everyone walked upright, and though not apathetic, seemed coolly detached. They made way for each other. People threw their things in the trash, and carefully folded newspapers before discarding them. He hadn't counted more than two or three discarded cigarettes littering the ground since he'd gotten here. Things were clean. Organized. Not mechanical, and though the people came in great variety, there was an underlying sameness to them. It made Cog stick out like a sore thumb. He looked nothing like the natives, although by no difference in dress or appearance.
He could smell her, still following him. Hiding in the crowd wasn't working. He'd need to think of something else, quickly.
Taking the next right he came to, he ducked into a random Chinese restaurant, and walking past a rather taken aback canine waitress of some sort, walked straight through and into the kitchen. The head cook, a frog by the look of him, bellowed something in an unintelligible language at Cog and pointed back the way he came. Cog tipped his hat apologetically to the man as he walked by, weaving through waiters and waitresses and finally navigating through the kitchen to the back door of the restaurant. He exited quickly, the door thankfully opening into an alleyway. Cog closed the door behind him, and positioning himself right to the side of the entryway, began to draw his sword. It was halfway out before he stopped, eyeing a shovel the cooks had set aside for scraping the waste buckets out. He resheathed the blade with a metallic click, and picked up the shovel, swinging it around and above his head, and waited for the red-haired girl to emerge.
Aisha paused, watching the storekeeper's almost stern face for reply, then tilted her head with intrigue as she followed a few paces behind the massive ox. She stood within the doorway of the storage room with her arms crossed, her eyes soon laying upon the vest he pulled out of the crate.
Now that was something that she'd never seen, said the panther's face as her expression turned into an interested grin, hearing what it was made of...lightweight and could withstand bullets as well as blades...perfect for what she had to get herself into. And altogether the look of the vest wasn't bad either. Still there lay ground to verify the claims, and she was quite happy to try it on then.
"MarCo, huh?" Aisha hummed and caught the vest in midair with one hand, surprised that for its look it didn't drag her grip too far down. She looked it over, hands thoughtfully testing the feel of it, while being careful not to make a premature scratch with her claws, and testing the padding with a whack from the back of her hand. Then, the panther slipped it around herself, having took her cape off for a moment first. Taking a few tiptoed steps and lithe movements with the vest, Aisha was relieved to see that it was indeed quiet, for all she could listen in the uncrowded store. It even fit her well enough...she could move and breathe, a missing trait that was otherwise loathed sometimes in torso armor, in her opinion.
"Huh!" she chuckled finally with satisfaction, looking herself over and back. "Well, for not being that 'fancy enchanted stuff', it looks to still get the job done," she smirked back to the storekeeper and slipped the thing off while grabbing her cape again. "Fine design and function." She paused in thought, then gave a quick nod to herself in assention. She probably wouldn't find anything at all better for the time being. "How much?" she inquired, turning back to him.
The bull grunted and folded his massive arms across his chest.
'That one will set you back five hundred bucks, but it's well worth it. You might find it hard to find an enchanter who's ready to fix it for you though, but if you need something replaced a lot of dealers fix MarCo stuff pretty cheap nowadays,' he said, leaning against one concrete wall.
- -
It took a while, long enough that Cog began to doubt that she would even come, while he stood there holding the shovel, tense as a spring and ready to strike. Twice, someone walked by and he almost swung, but the absence of red alerted him. And then there she was.
The shovel was a rather clumsy weapon, odd and unbalanced unlike his sword, but Cog's swing arm was something mean and the little thing didn't weigh much. It traveled in a perfect arc around with the flat side against that fiery ruffle of hair, and then he felt a heavy strike and a firm and short sound that confirmed the hit. The figure next to him staggered.
It was only when the shovel was kicked out of his hands that he realized that she had not in fact gone down. She had shielded her face with her hand the very last moment, it seemed, and caught herself very quickly. Immediately, the wolf let go of his grip on the shovel as she threw it, and whipped his hand to his sword hilt, expecting to use the opening for a quick victory. But even though his execution was perfect, the blade out in a flash that was hard to see with the naked eye, he did not strike home. Instead, there was a sharp metallic strike as his blade was blocked. Reflexively, he drew back and flashed out in another strike. And he was blocked again, and pushed back against the wall. Strength, shock and astonishment held him in place.
The woman was only a bit shorter than he was, perhaps three inches, and one of the oddest creatures he'd ever seen. Set in a heart-shaped but strong and beautiful, very lightly furred face, two large gleaming black eyes with red irises faced him, surrounded by six considerably smaller ones, slightly shaded by her red bangs. A pair of fangs showed slightly over her rose lips. Her somewhat muscled arms were tense as she held him pinned with a pair of knives halfway large enough to be called machetes. And under her open cloak and shirt, he could see what had to be pads, and more knives in her belt. She looked at him intensely, yet strangely with neither of the anger at being attacked nor the cold murderous intent that he had expected. It seemed more like she was... focused on something.
Then, very suddenly, she backed up, Cog's soles fully touching the ground again, and stuck the knives back in under her cloak. Then, slowly, she raised her arms, standing still and looking straight at him.
- -
Finally, with a sigh, Stygian slapped his hands on his knees and straightened. He turned toward Mel.
'I know how good your memory is. And since you are probably all unknown to them, I'd like you to go in first. Alone. Can you do that for me?' he asked, his voice slightly tinged with concern.
Mel nodded, "I should be able to get something." She looked thoughtful, then strolled around the end of a case of books. Down the far side strode a pudgy beagle in a poorly fit blue suit and carrying a clipboard. Long ears rippling as she moved with a loud, clumping gait the glum faced canine crossed the street precisely between the crosswalk markings and down to the back door of the club. She didn't go directly to the door but stopped in front of the garbage containers. The beagle counted them, twice, managing to look even more glum. She wrote something on the papers attached to the clipboard before addressing the scowling bouncer. "Officer Joy, Department of Health and Sanitation. I am here to audit the results of your previous inspection," she intoned while flashing a badge produced from a baggy jacket pocket. Before he could comment she questioned, "Are these all your garbage receptacles? An establishment of this size should have a minimum of five garbage receptacles." She made a tsking sound as more marks were applied to the papers. "I will start with the kitchen and work outwards. Please inform the proprietor that as this is an audit I will not need his or her presence but I will need access to the copies of the paperwork and certificates of the previous inspection." She stepped up to the door and the bouncer with the confidence of a petty official doing her job.
Cog's eyes were wide in shock, one eyebrow clearly visible over his shades. Whoever this girl was, she was damn good - three strikes from Cog, and she hadn't even taken a scratch. And there weren't many at all who could see his strikes, let alone block them.
As he feet touched back to the ground and the woman backed away, putting her knives away and her hands up, Cog let his sword rest at his side in a low stance. It was a deceptively weak-looking position, and Cog respected her enough not to simply resheathe the blade. In his other hand, he fingered a small tooth that he'd attached to a chain around his wrist. It was ice cold, despite the warmth of Cog's hands.
He stared silently at the woman for a moment, waiting for her to speak. She remained silent. "Cogidubnus Mithlome, at your service." Cog said, inclining his head at the woman. He regarded her coolly for a second. "I would be much obliged to know why you are following me. Now was not a particularly smart time to do so."
Richard rolled his eyes at the jackals comment, As if Stygian was the only one to worry about. Honestly. He sat back down on the couch and reached for the thing of oysters he'd set down earlier. It was gonna be a long night.
In-between excitedly hovering over Stygian's shoulder (at least as well as one of her diminutive height could manage), Keaton's ears pivoted upright as she heard the chiropteran indulge the whereabouts of Richard's home. A sly smirk of wicked satisfaction crept over her muzzle.
"Now that's more like it," she said, dropping herself back onto her heels and walking towards the door. Mentally, she documented every word included in Stygian's directions, hoping hat she would recall everything he mentioned. "I'll be back before you know it with everything you need."
And with that she opened the door and exited.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Aisha had chuckled at the bull's reply as she started out of the storage room and back to the counter, the vest draped over one arm while the other hand reached for her coin bag. "That's a relief to hear then. Sometimes I wonder if I spend more fixing my things than I do buying any. As for enchanting," she mused, "the vest may do without it. Versatility doesn't always come through magic. And if it has to, I know a few people in the enchanting department."
Out of the door, she could be heard muttering, "five hundred..." The dark jaguaress took a moment or two to count the amount she had with her. Gods be thanked for making me a saver, she smirked and placed the money on the counter, which left her still with enough to survive on, she also thanked the luck. If it stayed on her side, she figured that the escapade would also be well worth the money trouble.
"There you go, no haggling needed," she chuckled and nodded towards the towering bovine, a polite grin on her features. "I thank you for the vest and your time, señor."
Her new bit of protection donned and her spirit a little more at ease for it, the panther made for the exit, wondering what to do next. Catching up with someone may be a worthwhile idea.
A small feral pigeon--black with a white torso and a smattering of blue on its head--hopped out of a nearby alley. It pecked at a few random specs on the ground, looked up, and took flight. Circling the building housing the club a few times, it finally landed on the club's brightly lit sign, settling into a comfortable perch over the breasts of one of the serving girls. It cocked its head and observed the encounter unfolding below at the door to the club.
+ + +
"Ah... the direct approach..." Edge looked up from his reading--a tourist guide of some kind. "I don't suppose you have a way of monitoring her progress inside."
His new partners in crime hadn't established any communications protocols for their afternoon's cloak and dagger escapade--not with him, at any rate. Then again, they didn't exactly trust him yet. The fox closed his eyes for a few seconds, silently feeling out the level of warding that the club had installed against clairsentience and remote scrying. Given Mel's entertaining choice of cover identity, it would be a shame to miss the show.
Without turning to face him, Stygian spoke to Edge, making sure to make his voice just a slight bit irritable and his face the tiniest bit sour.
'
No need. Mel is a professional. She knows what needs doing and I trust her,' he said, and slowly started walking toward the exit of the shop. '
She has photographic memory, so she's most likely to find something useful, though we might have to dig a bit. And don't prod around like that too much, or you're bound to be found out.'
Stepping outside, Stygian paused for a second to light a cigarette and make sure that Edge was behind him. Then he walked around to the back of the building, a large and mostly anonymous wall without so many windows as it was facing another building. A set of firescape ladders were mounted against it. As soon as they got into the shadow, the bat's outline shifted and his features began distorting, as if he were concealed by the darkness so much that he was difficult to see. The effect passed, but not before he had turned into a white and brownish husky in a plain white T-top, shirt and jeans.
'I won't say anything, but a cubi youngling sounding like that...' he said, slowly sitting down on his haunches. Cautiously he swept his gaze over the alley, then over to Edge. There was little but asphalt and stone around. 'You must forgive me for being so harsh on you, but sometimes I wonder... does he ever have any qualms about his actions, Ky? Ah...' He turned his gaze away again.
A large rat, probably big enough to give whatever cats might come around doubts about what to do with it, climbed lazily out from a drainage and into view. Calmly, as if it knew that it were too large and out of sight for anything to bother it, it began trotting down the alleyway. Then, Stygian raised his hand, and reached out in its direction. The rat stopped, sniffing the air and turning in confusion.
'I don't really have a problem with an odd sense of humor, but with arrogance. It wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't agreed to help you...' he said, and slowly began clenching his fingers. The rat tensed up and began clawing the ground, but didn't go anywhere. '...yet now I have, and though I know it's a typical cubi behavior and you're none too happy about the situation...' He continued closing his fingers. Edge thought he could see something else around the rat now, something murky and moving. The rodent had begun twitching and squirming. '...I want you to take it easy and be considerate, because anything else...' Rapidly, he clenched his fist, and with a squeal and a spasm, the rat crunched together in a bloody little mess. '...would be quite stupid.'
Again, Stygian stood, and then put his hands in his pockets and started walking over to what was left of the little rodent.
- -
The guard's eyebrows rose a hair or three when Mel, or "officer Joy" spoke up, and when she was finished with her tirade he looked a bit confused for a moment, before looking to the side and then at her again. He fumbled with his hand at his pocket for a moment before he spoke.
'Hold on a second, miss. I'll get the steward,' he said, and then turned and went in. He was gone only for a couple of minutes, before he showed up again behind a tall, lanky lizard-like mythos.
'Yes?' he said between a pair of tendrils that emerged from the corners of his mouth, making him look peculiarly much like a catfish. 'An inspection now?'
- -
Very slowly and cautiously, the girl, who had to be a spider no matter how one looked at it, though Cog had never seen an anthropomorphic one before, lowered her hands. Her gaze was dead steady facing his, or so it seemed. He thought he could see a hint of reddish irises, but it was hard to tell. And then there was also the fact that she had eight eyes. For all he could make out, the smaller ones might have been looking at his shoes.
Quite oddly, the woman did not speak. Instead, she raised her hand and made a slashing motion over her throat while shaking her head, and then walked slightly to the side to look around out of the alley. When she turned back to face Cog, she motioned for him to follow him.
It didn't take long for Keaton to reach Richard's apartment, having successfully remembered all of Stygian's presented directions just enough for her to approach it. Once she was standing outside of the building, Keaton flexed her fingers individually, feeling the joints crack and creak experimentally. According to Stygian's description, this was indeed Richard's home. Keaton glanced up at entrance number four, as Stygian had stated, and sighed. If people had invaded Richard's home, she would have to remain inconspicuous, especially since she didn't know if they could detect dark magic.
So she would have to call Xianxi.
White light started to encircle Keaton's hands in sweeping bolts, concentrating to a brighter and brighter focus until it was nearly blinding. Before her, a bright halo of alabaster energy began to form in mid-air, radiating like a harmonious miniature sun. In the midst of the white glow, something black began to form, ectoplasmic and elastic, steadily shaping itself until it changed from a clay-like mass to something resembling a recognizable body. Tapered ears extended; little black barbs sprouted like weeds about a lithe sable form; vacant, white eyes opened, and, flashing on both the forehead and in a larger figure on the back of the creature was the Jyraneth clan symbol, angular and archaic.
The light died down relatively, moonwashed ivory suffusing the outline of the black creature--the Warp-Aci--as it finished shaping itself and finally adopted the body of something akin to an anubis, a jackal quite similar to Keaton, only covered in little thistles and spines all over its strangely humanoid body. Paper-thin tail swept overhead, slicing down to a thin fork bifurcating the tip, and coiled around the 'Aci's body as it straightened itself, standing to attention.
"Speak of how I may serve you, mistress." It spoke in an ephemeral, stoic voice, like thousands of little whispers conjured into unison.
"Xianxi, there is a baboon Undead inside of that building. He is likely with several other people," Keaton said firmly, with a surprising amount of assertiveness to her tone. "I want you to fly over and remain undetected, then tell me everything you've heard."
Xianxi bowed his horn-crowned head slightly, eyes closed. "As you wish."
And with that, he spun around, levitating swiftly, yet silently towards the door indicated by Keaton. His tail cleaved sharply through the air for a second, briefly raveling around him as the white light constricted down, down, down, until it nearly vanished, along with his body, as it took the shape of a pleasant-looking, unsuspecting door knocker and fastened itself to the surface of Richard's door. Entirely unostentatious, entirely unassuming, save for the small, subtle Jyraneth clan symbol carved into its head.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Richard finished off the oysters, not noticing the flash of a warp-aci outside his window. They'd been sitting here awhile. Naturally, the greatest worry this brought to mind was that Marya was bored out of her skull. That and angry never mixed well with her, and she was almost always angry.
Well, always a way of killing two birds with one stone.
"Mind if I go practice while we wait for... whatever we're waiting for?" the musician asked Laertes, figuring he was if not the one in charge, the one who acted like he was and thus far seeming to be the most likely to say yes, "Didn't get the chance to yesterday, what with being shot at-" this provoked another grumble from Marya, "-and I don't want my instruments feeling ignored."
It took a moment for Officer Joy to look up from her clipboard at the query from the catfishy mythos. "No, this is not an inspection. This is an accuracy audit of the officer who did your inspection. Your file was randomly chosen from among the inspections of the period." It was unclear whether the dour look she gave the mythos and the business in general were because she felt that she would find rampant errors and illegal acts or simply a natural expression for the beagle. "If everything is in order this should not take long. I will start in the food service areas." She walked toward the door as if heading there directly. "And this establishment does not have sufficient volume of garbage receptacles. I will be issuing a warning for that."
Eyebrow quirking just slightly, Cog looked behind him and followed the spider-woman, sliding his sword back into it's sheath before emerging into the street. He kept one hand hanging loose at his side, but the other he kept quite firmly resting on his sword hilt. He made sure to stay just a step behind the spider girl as well, with the endcap of his sword just slightly crossing his center. It would take him less than moments to draw and get something between them.
He took a cue from her and stayed silent, however, merely keeping his ears and his nose open as he followed her.
The fox padded after Stygian like an obedient puppy. His form flickered--the type of thing one might miss if not paying close attention--and, suddenly, the man following the husky was a greasy-haired rodent who bore an uncanny resemblance to the small critter lying before Stygian. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn, faded jeans and looked upward, seemingly pondering the fire escape.
"Of course. I haven't forgotten that we're dealing with powerful Creatures who care little for the suffering of those weaker than them."
Stygian sighed and kneeled down by the little creature, looking at it.
'Still the wrong attitude. And "not caring" is much too optimistic. Try "loathe and viciously exploit and kill those weaker than them" instead,' he said. Slowly, he reached down for the corpse, until his hand hovered right above it. Then came the nasty part.
From his point of view over the Stygian's shoulder, Edge couldn't see too closely, however the black veins and crawling motions that spread over the man's hand, accompanied by something snaking down the inside of his shirtsleeve, it seemed, were hard to miss. Slowly, the blood that had run out from the many lacerations on the rat's skin began crawling and hissing as if it were boiling, flowing backwards.
Some sort of... thing split Stygian's skin and crept into sight, a shape of deep, deep black that seemed half something slick and steamy, like some very runny liquid, and half organic material. Like a horrid crossing between a centipede and a spider it moved over the rat. Then, quickly, it reached out with sharp tendrils under the rat's skin and crept into it, squirming. The rodent's wounds closed and it twitched. Then, its eyes opened. It blinked, looked around, and then hurriedly made its way over to the wall. Swiftly, it climbed up and out of sight.
'I for one hope that this will all just be about Ash trying to catch my attention. But things are almost never so well,' Stygian said, and stood.
- -
The catfish-lizard-man frowned and almost made as if to hinder "Officer Joy", but finally stepped aside and gave her a little gaunt, stiff nod. He looked less than pleased, but certainly not more than a bit irritated.
'I apologize,' he said. 'The two they took this morning haven't come back yet.' He pushed back the door, and the burly guard shuffled out of the beagle's way.
- -
The jackal, Laertes, looked up and beamed a smile at Richard.
'Oh, please. Go right ahead. It's your house. Personally, I'd love to hear some music,' he said, making a point not to bother with the others and their apparent mood one bit. 'I play a bit myself, in fact.' Ace made a groaning sound and moved over next to Marya.
'Sorry about this bullshit. Name's Ace. Want to get out of that seat?' she asked.
- -
Surprisingly, the spider-woman led Cog back to the same café that they had visited earlier, walking slowly and, though not apparently so still noticeable to Cog, keeping all those eyes watchful. She went over and sat down by a table, and patted the seat next to her, before taking out a backpack hidden under her own.
Marya blinked at Ace, "Marya. I'd say nice to meet you, but..." she shrugged, "Hell, I dunno. Most cortious home invasion situation I've ever heard of. Gah, I need a beer..." she stood up and walked over toward the fridge, "Don't suppose there's any chance of finding out the full story as to what's actually going on? I keep hearing all these things about explosions and some freak with a name out of some edition of the bible I haven't read."
"Right, cool," Richard stood up and strode over to his room, throwing open the door. Seeing as he didn't sleep, the room didn't contain a bed. And all his books were on the shelves outside of Marya's room. Thus, if one went to look, they would see a room containing a bench, sheets of music, and instruments of nearly every variety filling the remaining space, "Always good to meet a fellow musician. Whaddya play, Laertes?"
As mentioned, he didn't sleep. The undead had to fill those hours somehow.
Cog looked around the cafe carefully before sitting down, taking the seat the girl indicated. He watched as many hands as he could see, keeping his hand close to his sword, and the other casually laying on his leg. He didn't like this postion - he'd have to both stand and turn to attack or defend, but he really had little choice here. Keeping an almost-closed fist ready to let loose with a wave of force, he choose to sit in silence, as per his host, and watched her pick up some kind of bag and place it on the table. He checked around the place, to make sure no one was taking undue notice to their meeting, and tilted his head at the spider woman. The backpack she had produced was pitch black, and rather small - he looked at it for a moment, then back at the spider.
Officer Joy clicked her pen loudly and made a note on her clipboard. "I've made a note, but there will be a follow-up at your next scheduled inspection." She stepped through the door and into the kitchen, startling the staff by peering over shoulders and making glum comments about towel cleanliness, refrigerator temperatures, dishwasher gaskets, and blade speeds in extractor fans. Then, with one last observation on the excessively large mesh of the hairnets she was gone, off giving the same treatment to the pantry storeroom.
Popping back out of the storeroom before the catfish mythos could follow she commented, "All foodstuffs stored on the floor need to be moved to shelves or placed in approved containers." Again the pen clicked and comments added to her papers. "Where does this door lead?" was the next question, but as the canine was already heading through it an answer didn't seem to be expected. A short hallway, only a few steps, long led off in several directions. The inspector chose one and found herself in the bar. "Does this zone have it's own dishwashing area or are the items commingled with the dining items?" While waiting for an answer she was into the bar fridge, checking dates on the ingredients it held. "You have three open bottles of olives. That creates the potential for using expired product. I'm going to recommend food safety courses for all your staff." Then she was up and gone again, disappearing into the main area of the business. For a short pudgy canine she moved remarkably quickly.
The catfish-like man made a few unsuccessful to keep up with the beagle's tirade, before someone shouted for him to come and do something, whereupon he grunted and left with a look of annoyance.
While the outside of the club was unimpressive, the interior was, for lack of an adequate description, definitely not so. The bar area alone was large enough to accommodate a large house, and the large dance floor, lowered down along terraced sections of tables, chairs and sofas and even divans, simply didn't look like it could be crowded. The roof was four stories high and to each side of the great main stage were one other, smaller. Smooth pillars of alabaster stone, lengths of white cloth, exotic plants and blossoms and clinging vines, even a waterfall fountain that spilled out just a centimeter of water over a smooth stone floor. And the place was still brightly lit and empty. The staff hurried about the place, readying tables, moving furniture, bringing packages and doing a thousand other things. Most of them didn't look like they were staff, actually, as they wore regular clothing. But when one woman, curvaceous and graceful and probably hand-picked for just that, passed by Mel wearing only a few slashes of thin, silky white, she guessed that was for a reason.
The beagle's invasion of the bar led her to the knowledge that nearly the entire building was dedicated to the club, which also included a restaurant section and a pool area underground, as well as backstage loges and rooms. It was one of the most expensive pieces of property in all of Haszal. She encountered more than one place though, that gave her trouble. Doors were locked frequently, and she noticed that though she didn't see more than one security guard in the back, a good few of the staff, both men and women, gave her suspicious glances as she passed by. Glances too keen to be comfortable.
- -
The spider-woman leaned on the table a bit and looked at Cogidubnus, and then made a few deliberate hand gestures in his view. When she saw nothing but confusion in his eyes, she sighed, and then reached into her bag. She produced a pen and a sketching booklet, which she flipped open, and proceeded to write something down. She then put the booklet down on the table, and slid it over to Cog. The writing style was thin and cramped but exact. It read '
Sorry for that, but I think you and your friends are in grave danger'. The word 'grave' was underlined.
- -
The jackal got up and went along with the baboon, and as he stepped into Richard's room, still holding his teacup, he nodded appreciatively at the sight of the collection.
'A bit of piano, a bit of the organ. I sing a little too. Used to practice with the choir back in church when I was little,' he said, and sipped.
Ace however, stayed behind, sitting down tiredly beside Marya and grunting.
'His name's Stygian. A real bastard. And if he was in the bible, I think we'd be afraid to be Christians,' she said with a gruff air that clearly said how much she didn't like talking about it. 'I don't think that he blew up the bar yesterday, but I'm pretty sure he was the reason anyway. He and his friends. Your boyfriend there just happened to be at the wrong place the wrong time. Hey,' she said, suddenly shifting subject. 'You got any beer here?'
"Wouldn't've mentioned it if we didn't. Catch," Marya chucked a bottle over to Ace, taking a sip from her own as well as the fridge swung shut. Richard being called her boyfriend got a chuckle out of her, but no explanation. "Yeah, sounds like the sort of situation he gets himself into. So..." she collapsed back onto the couch with a sigh, "The hell's up with Laertes anyway? He always this... Well, this?"
Richard rummaged amongst his collection, looking for something in particular. "Used to do a bit of singing myself," he rasped. Took him a minute, but eventually he found what he was looking for; an acoustic guitar, "Any requests?" He asked as he tuned it.
Cog suppressed a slight laugh as he read the paper, looking back up at the spider, incredulous. He smirked, passing the paper back to the spider.
"Really? Whatever makes you think that?" he said, bemused. "We're probably in it up to our necks. But..." He turned, regarding the little spider, shades glittering. "More importantly, why do you care?" he said, his hand gripping the endcap of his sword. He watched her carefully, his eyes flickering between her face and the pad of paper.
Aisha wandered in and around the rest of the city for the time being, mentally putting down locations of landmarks and buildings and whatever was good for marking her trail, so she could easily find her way back to the meeting place. She couldn't help but marvel at the area's look along the way, grand and sprawling, and just as well, ever more dangerous. She kept the cowl over her features, view partially obstructed by cloth and the rest free to glimpse the roads ahead.
The jaguaress bypassed the line of shops, instead following the heavy scent of ocean salt in the air to where she could hear waves and water lapping against other surfaces. She found another tree in a small green alcove, this one higher than the one she was sitting in the other night, and from what she could discern, the ocean could be in its view. Having seen nobody else that she knew, the panthress shrugged to herself. We're all doing our own thing. I'm probably best out of their way for now.
Looking around, the panthress then gathered the strength in her legs and leapt for the lowest bough, claws catching holds in the bark. She caught the eye of just a few passerby doing so, whom only kept going with a slight mutter about felines. Aisha just laughed...heights were after all useful, and climbing was a psuedo-sport that she never grew tired of. And it was something well worth taking her mind away from past and future troubles.
At the highest bough that could hold her weight, the huntress stood up and gazed at her encircled view of a whole chunk of busy city on one side, and lighter areas on the other, with a wall of wood obstructing the small rest of it beside her. The breeze sometimes grew precarious, but she could never fall out of a tree if she could help it. It merely whistled past her almost harmoniously as she finally laid her eyes on a shimmering barrier on the horizon that was the sea.
How lucky for them, she thought with a smile, to have a sight which I long ago could never have imagined existed.
The beady-eyed rat slouched back against the wall below the fire escape. A scale model of the building materialized at his feet. It opened up to reveal dozens of tiny characters silently gyrating on a wide dance floor or milling about at a bar. The rodent stared down at the display with a furled brow and the intense concentration that a child might afford his favourite game. The almost hypnotic rhythm of the little actors died suddenly as tiny security guards and other, more recognizable characters burst onto the scene.
Chaos. Running in terror. Muzzle flashes. Sword slashes. Dark tendrils. Fire everywhere. A floor stained with blood. The horrific scenario played out soundlessly in miniature on the floor of the dark alley.
"Hmm... so is there a requisite number of pawns to kill off before you two can sit down to chat? This Ash lady knows that her hired goons pose little threat to you. If she truly means you harm, her home field advantage here must consist of something capable of taking you down--more powerful Creatures, perhaps, or traps of magical nature." He glanced up at Stygian and cocked his head. "You know her style. What can we expect? None of those options bode particularly well for those around you."
He sighed, but there was a sparkle of anticipation in his eye.
'You're just about getting ahead of the game here,' the dog said, suddenly sounding pleased and nodding toward Edge. Sharpness was to be rewarded. And that sudden gleam was certainly not lost on Stygian.
'Ash, or Ashtareth as she is really named, is a creature much like me, but much different all the same. We're going to have to expect some serious resistance, even if it's just her alone that we are talking about. Psionic, mostly. She's a mentalist, and a powerful such. Most likely she'll have one or two lesser creatures as bodyguards. She knows that I'm most resilient to her mind tricks, and that the same cannot be said of you others. So she'll be counting on using you against me, turning you hostage, that sort of thing,' he said, quickly and concisely. 'This of course means that I should face her head on, and keep her focused on me. Which I am counting on.'
The dog stood and watched the little illusory spectacle unfold on the ground before the rat, his face once again blank and his eyes lost in contemplative distraction.
'There are some others too, that you must mind. Adventurers.'
- -
The wolf barked a laugh at Marya's question, opened her bottle with a hard hand that while graceful was strong as wrought iron, most likely from training, and swigged deeply before speaking.
'Yeah.
Always. First time I met him I almost ran a sword through the guy, and he didn't even blink. If there's anything that can move that man, then I haven't seen it yet,' she said jadedly. 'Course, I ain't seen much like the things that he has. Or, at least the things he
says he has.'
'Anything you want. I'm not picky,' the jackal laughed at Richard and eased himself down on the bench.
Finding that she had traveled all the way around the building and back into the kitchen "Officer Joy" decided she had seen all that she was going to see. The catfishy mythos was there. With a disappointed look on her face she announced, "Your paperwork seems to be relatively in order. At your next inspection your inspector will be checking on the number of refuse receptacles, whether your staff have taken a food handling course, and on the strength of the table cleaning solution. It didn't appear to have sufficient disinfectant in it upon my appraisal." She held out her clipboard. "Please sign at the appropriate spot on the form that I have explained the deficiencies to you and that you agree to take the appropriate measures before your next inspection." She looked glumly around while the mythos inspected the document, as if hunting for some reason she could invalidate her results. When the paperwork was returned she tore off the top sheet and handed it to the mythos before exiting the way she came. The sturdy beagle clomped down the street but when a shady corner was turned a young zebra wearing a gaudy shirt over jeans continued down the sidewalk and into an ice cream shop where she purchased a cone of lemon sherbet and sat to wait.
"Things like what, exactly?" Marya asked, curiosity piqued.
Without replying, Richard quickly got to playing, warming up on the usual scales before continuing on to something that sounded rather like 'Feel Good Inc.'
The rat digested this new information about their opponents. A new scene began playing out in the little model club at his feet.
"Some of the others were without even basic mental shielding. We might want to rectify that before going in to face her. Strong defences will be difficult to install on such short notice, but anything that slows her down should give you an edge during the fight." He scratched his chin. "You may also have a brief opening if she tries to get into my head. Even more powerful and experienced mentalists rarely expect... people like me."
His ears perked up and he turned towards the road. A black and white pigeon flew across the alley's entrance.
"Ah. Our building inspector is back."
The wolf lowered her voice slightly and looked at Marya meaningfully, holding her beer just below her smile.
'Oh, religious stuff. Angels, Devils, that sort of thing,' she said, and took a slow sip. 'Won't say that I don't believe him, but the guy seems to have been around a lot.'
- -
Upon Edge's words and mention of Mel's return, Stygian just grunted and put his hands in his pockets, walking past.
'Don't be presumptuous. When I say powerful, I mean powerful. That's something that I want you to keep in mind,' he said gravely, and stopped for a second, looking over his shoulder at the rat. 'She is unlike anything you've ever seen before. I know that for a fact.' For a moment, his eyes went black. 'Just like me.' He stared Edge out for a while, until he finally turned back and began walking toward the shop.
Edge shrugged and turned to follow the husky out of the alley. The illusionary building faded into the nothingness from whence it came.
"We'll be in the line of fire anyway. Hampering her attacks to help you take her out faster seems a reasonable way to mitigate damage." The rat paused and held Stygian's gaze meaningfully. "She's about as strong as you, right? Is she just an unusually powerful Creature telepath, or has she already evolved into something... more?"
Aisha hadn't been sitting in the tree for more than a short while, but while she leaned her back against the trunk and easily balanced herself on the high bough, it seemed like she was lost in time. Her eyes scanned the horizon ocean's silvery and reflective surface with contemplation, and her ears caught the wind's symphonic whistling encircling in the loose leaves. Her mind wasn't on anything in particular, but was simply taking in what serenity could come from an otherwise noisy city at her back.
She was never too far out of reality, however. The panther kept an ear out as a snaking black tail swung behind and beneath her, a shining emerald tail ring in plain sight like a strange metallic green amidst the tree's natural colors. An ear suddenly swiveled behind her as she could hear a slight scrabbling sound on the bark, followed by her tail tip brushing over something. She was still, contemplating this noise, until she nearly felt a grip on the ring.
Then in a flash, she gripped the branch she was on and swung down over it while hanging on with her claws, executing a brief arc through the air before bringing her foot back to kick something hard as she swung back down. She heard a thump as the individual she had sent from the tree, a raccoon in dark clothing, sprawled there.
Letting go of the branch she was holding, Aisha landed on a lower bough and sent a glare to the small would-be thief (his expression confirmed the thought), until he got to his feet and made a chance for a hasty run. Now I wonder just how tight the law is around here with a pickpocket, the panther grimaced and leaped to the ground. At least the ring hadn't been stolen. But what cheek to have attempted that in broad daylight...
Aisha dismissed it. With one more glance out towards the ocean, she sighed before making her way through the streets and back down to the shops, eyeing the ice cream parlor before stepping into it with a shrug and a slight chuckle to herself. Never stay in a town without comparing their mint-flavored ice cream to everyone else's. Tradition, chica.
The bat slowed his walk, and then stopped, looking back at Edge yet again, his face serious but not really grave.
'To be honest, I don't know. She's... like me, yes. Something more. But which of us is the stronger?' he said, and smiled slightly and shook his head. 'I have no idea. And I am glad that I have never had to test it.' He faced Edge's eyes for a long time now, neither harshly or mildly but simply with an earnest directness that contrasted his previous behavior so sharply that it was confusing in itself, before turning around again and walking over to the shop, answering no more questions. He sat down next to Mel, not ordering any ice cream for himself, silently exhaling and leaning forward on the counter on his elbows.
The zebra just kept eating her cone and swiveling the counter stool in a bored manner. When Ignatz was ready to see what she had seen he'd let her know and until then there was nothing else to do but keep the cone from melting onto her hand. Only a moment behind the husky and rat a very familiar cloaked figure entered the shop. "Was that planned?" Mel asked.
The husky looked up and back at Aisha, then shrugged and turned back.
'Not at all. But it's not a bad thing. Did you find out anything crucial? I would expect that Ash keeps to the backrooms most of the time. Though if I am right, she would also like to be directly involved with the business. She enjoys it that way...' he said, before looking at the panthress again and patting the seat next to him.
'Sit down, Aish. We'll have plenty of time to talk,' he said.
- -
The arthropod woman's look neared irritation when she looked at Cog, clearly telling him not to look a gift spider in the mouth. But she kept on scribbling, and soon handed over a longer piece of text to him.
I cannot tell you who I am, it read,
but I am familiar with Sebastian and with the ones waiting for you in the club. I know what is going on and I wish to stop it. It is most disturbing. You have to take the others with you and leave as quickly as you can, or this will be a disaster. The words were strict and exact, and her insistent manner strengthened them.
Aisha had barely paid attention to the husky and rat who had jumped in just before her, the door to the ice cream shop signifying their appearance with another little bell ring. It seemed that the place was also fairly empty enough, just like the pub had been, bar for a zebra girl occupying the counter and the newcomers going to join her.
Soon the panthress would be thankful for that after they had started conversing, but for the moment she hadn't realized whom they really were...not until after she ordered her mint-flavored ice cream. An ear turned the other way at the conversation taking place, followed by the fact that the husky who had arrived invited her to sit down...as well as having known her name.
For a quiet moment she regarded him with a confused look, quirking an eyebrow, but then a quick glance at a slight little glow from her tail ring and assessing the topic of the conversation gave her the clues that she needed...Stygian, Mel, and she guessed Edge was the last one. She jokingly rolled her eyes with a quick sigh of relief. Damn shapeshifters...
With a slight chuckle through her closed mouth, Aisha set a few coins on the counter and strode to join them with slightly narrowed eyes, taking a taste of her cone. "I'm guessing the lot of you are playing it safe," she quietly observed of their disguises and, with hesitation, took the aformentioned seat with one elbow resting on the counter and her other hand resting near her belt. "So what's been found out?"
Mel first cast an illusion spell over their group so that it would look as if they were just chatting and eating their treats. For the second spell a miniature of the club building appeared on the counter. "It is a big business. The club is sprawled over the entire building." The miniature neatly dissected itself into the various floors and laid itself out in an orderly row. Any areas the "inspector" had not been able to visit were filled with white fog but everything else was clear and detailed down to the pattern in the carpet. "The lowest level is not storerooms, as might be expected, but full of a series of pools and related sorts of areas. The second floor is mostly the club itself, excepting the kitchen and drink prep areas and a few smaller rooms. Pretty much the same for the higher levels; private party rooms that look across the hollow core into the stage, working areas hidden behind the stage. Lots of nooks and crannies and doors to pop out of. Lots of people." Images of the people she had spotted started flashing in the air in front of her, in case anyone looked familiar to the others. Not that it was likely, look at how often this group changed their faces.
Cog read the paper over a few times before looking over at the spider woman, and then read it one more time before he slid it back. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and leaned back into his seat. He continued to stare at her from behind the black walls of his shades.
"I see." he murred, contemplating both what she said, and thinking about possibly getting something to drink. Coffee, or maybe something cold. "Sebastian, you say? Mm. Well. You have perhaps chosen the wrong person to abscond, I fear." Cog said carefully, and then halfway grinned. "I doubt I could get the other to listen to me, really."
He stood. "Would you excuse me a moment?" he said, standing and approaching the attendant at the counter. He handed him a coin and nodded at the menu, and the clerk disappeared for a few moments before handing him a mug of something dark. Cog nodded, and after messing with his drink for a few moments he returned and sat back down beside the spider.
"Apologies." he said, sipping his coffee. "As I was saying, I don't think I can simply make the others come with me. Although, it might be easier to persuade them were I to know exactly why you are so worried." he said, looking at her from over his cup. "I already know we're in for a hellaciously rough time of it, walking into an ambush and whatnot."
He set his mug down and looked out the window, pausing for a moment. He let his gaze slide back to the arthopod, steam curling from his cup in front of him. "I'll tell them it's a bad idea, if you want me to, but..." he shrugged. "I think we already know that."
The husky glanced the illusion, turing his head to look at it from several directions, and then sighed. Settling his head in his palm and tapping his temple, he licked one of his fangs and then snorted.
'Well, that isn't neccessarily all bad. If we presume that the place will be rather full, then we'll have a lot of cover and potential exits,' he said calmly. 'Ash doesn't care much for common people, but she wouldn't just kill a crowd like that for any reason I can think of. And even if she focuses on our minds alone, we can still get around that.' He sat back up again and looked at the little display of the building as if he were gazing right through it. 'So we hopefully won't have to bother with any guards she might have along with her that much.'
- -
For a while, the spider just sat there eying Cog seriously, not moving an inch. Then, she took back the booklet and wrote something very quickly. She slid it over to him slower the next time, as if for emphasis.
Laertes is here, it read.
Cog took a sip of his drink and looked down quickly at the booklet. It was only a few words, but Cog stiffened as he read them, and he set his mug down a little harder than he should have. He took a deep breath, silent, and gave a sharp look at the spider girl.
"Yes. I know." he said, his voice carefully soft. "That's why I'm here." Cog narrowed one eye and carefully let his hand drift over to his sword. "And you knowing that brings up all sorts of questions." he said, just a bit of menace in his voice.
Cog started at her. Someone entered the cafe and sat down, and another person passed their table on the way to the counter, getting another mug of something to drink. A cloud briefly passed over the afternoon sun, and a sudden silence in the room left only the sound of percolating coffee, the popping noise oddly loud.
Cog mulled for a moment, and let his hand slip from his sword, and set it deliberately on the table. "But I don't think you want to kill me. Which makes me suspect you aren't one of his. Still." he murmured, picking his mug up again. "How you know Laertes is here and how you know I care is a mystery to me, but..." Cog narrowed both of his eyes. The light from outside glittered off his shades. "What does that have to do with this?"
Cog passed the notebook back to her, muttering something under his breath.
It took a moment, the spider looking as if she was listening to something else, or perhaps thinking, before she fixed her eyes on Cog again, and this time looking at him with such unhesitant seriousness that it was hard not to flinch. She wrote, without looking down at the booklet. At least not with her two main eyes, that was.
After a few seconds, she passed the little notebook over to him.
I am traveling with Laertes, it said.
I know what is between you two. This has everything to do with his dedication. He has come here because of power and Sebastian can lead him to it.- -
For a while, the husky sat there, just pondering it seemed and out of touch with what went on around him. Then he looked back up at the others.
'Well, I can not gain any better knowledge from my eyes inside, so I say that we proceed as such; we approach from within the crowd in disguise, keep close to the second exit here,' he said and pointed to one end of the little illusion, 'you stay behind with the others, Mel, and you go in with me, Edge.' He fixed his eyes on the rat. 'She knows you, and she won't expect anything sudden. Now, whether or not we could have something up our sleeve, we can discuss. But for the most part, let's try and see this one through calmly as we can, allright?'
After Aisha had joined the group, she felt the urge to keep her head down in case what they were talking about would be picked up on...but her hand fell away from the edge of her hood just as she could see and sense the one whom she now knew as Mel casting an illusory barrier over the bunch of them. Then she quirked her eyebrows as an image of the club's interior appeared on the table; a pretty good one at that.
The panther's eyes wandered over the map before them as she finished eating her ice cream, while also listening to the disguised Stygian go over it and the plans that he had formed. Her ears were pinned over her skull with a thoughtful hum. If the place was going to be fairly full, the shapeshifters should theoretically have little problems walking in.
As soon as Aisha was sure that she memorized the copy of the layout, just in case, she glanced to the others for confirmation. "That still leaves us at the door then? Me...Gareeku, wherever he is," she paused with a concerned glance outside, hoping nothing had happened to him, before turning back. "And...what's-his-face. Cogidubnus. The back-watchers." She smirked and cautiously ran a finger over the edge of the blade at her belt. After all, if there was a job doing, it was worth doing right.
Cog took a deep breath as he read over the little booklet, a scowl forming on his face, and he slid the little papers back over to her. He resisted the urge to look out at the cafe, and instead kept his eyes on the spider. She was with the Jackal. He picked up his mug again, and began to drink, staying silent for a long while.
Minutes passed before he spoke, steam curling up from his cup. "I see."
Cog murmured something under his breath, and set his cup down. "Two things. If he's focused on this Sebastian fellow, perhaps he isn't focused on me. He may not even know I'm here. Does he?" Cog asked, looking at something over the spider's shoulders. "And who, exactly, is 'Sebastian'?" he said, taking a drink.
The spider blinked, sudden confusion dashing across her face. It passed in the blink of an eye, replaced immediately with boorish realization. For a second she looked pensive. Then she smiled, and bit down with her upper lip so that her fangs came into view, and folded her hands, putting them up by her head so as to mimic a pair of large ears. The resulting imitation was rather comical.
- -
From her point of view, monitoring the ones inside the apartment, Keaton could find out much but still surprisingly little useful. Richard and Marya's 'guests' were mostly calm and watchful, the tension between the two parties clear but very muted now that they had all settled. Through the music she could hear talking, most of which was obviously just to pass the time. Still, both of those responsible for most of it, the wolf who had introduced herself as 'Ace' and Marya, were giving off subtle vibes that were in stark contrast to the lightness of the conversation. Especially Ace seemed quite on edge, a sharp edge of irritation and wariness cutting through her emotions like a blade. The otter, Carey, who had declined a drink stood around, pretending not to notice, listening to the music and looking out the windows.
The most worrying point though, was Laertes. Even though he smiled, having slipped back the sleeves of his flowing shirt to reveal his large and strong hands and arms, clearly hardened by much exercise, and placed himself at the drums in the corner of the room, there was something unsettling about his very presence. Keaton could sense no emotions from him whatsoever, and that made his apparent unshakable calm seem all the more like a mask over something else. It was hard not to wonder why adventurers like him and the other two would just stop to socialize with a pair of strangers right in the middle of things like that.
Cog looked at the spider woman out of the corner of his eye, quirked an eyebrow, and jerked suddenly, laughing as he leaned forward. A bit of coffee dribbled off his chin, the wolf wiping it away quickly as he swallowed and smiled, baring long, white fangs. He turned and looked at her, still grinning.
"Oho. Well then, that does change a few things." he said, setting his cup down. "Well. I suppose he does know I'm here, then, if he's watching the bat. Still. If he's - "
Cog stopped, the grin falling from his face, suddenly quieting. He sat silent for a moment, and making a face he reached for his cup.
"Does the bat know Laertes is here?" he said, taking a sip. "From what I've seen of the bat, Laertes could be very bad news for him. People who depend on darkness magics seldom last long with him. Abilities like that Jackal's are very rare and seldom expected. And rather effective. For someone like Stygian...well." he said, making another face and sipping his drink.
Mel acknowledged her assignment with a nod, continuing to casually swivel her counter stool around as she finished her treat. Her eyes stopped on Aisha. "We have some shopping to do before it opens." She hopped off the stool and stepped to the feline's side. "Nothing against your outfit, Aisha, but the doorman will never let you in unless you are dressed to party. We'll find a boutique and get you a dancing dress."
As the husky's eyes turned toward Aisha, he raised his eyebrows and looked almost surprised for a moment. However, when he saw the reaction Mel's comment brought from the panthress, his eyes narrowed and he smirked. 'That sounds like an excellent idea,' he said. 'We should catch up with Keaton and the wolf before things start up here too. Not that we are in such a hurry, but...'
The dog slipped off his seat and stood. 'I should like to see to my inventory, and to find some new threads. I've been on the road for a while,' he said, and looked to Edge. 'And you?'
As Aisha awaited an answer to her inquiry, though it sounded more or less rhetorical, her ears swiveled quickly as Mel came up to her side and offered to take her shopping for a dress. The huntress's eyebrows quirked incredulously...needless to say, she wasn't expecting really to be joining in the club's frolic. She wasn't at all for formal.
But after a pause, she just shrugged with a chuckle and nodded to Mel. "Well, that's generous of you," Aisha assented. After all, it was only polite to take it, and especially if there was nothing better to be done. Maybe if things weren't going to be hectic, it would be something of a comfortable change out of her battle gear.
"Dancing it is," she laughed with a snort and swiveled in her seat, making a bit of a graceful leap from the cushion. With a smirk, she added, "See you boys in the fire, then." The irony of the statement was too good to pass up. Then she gave a nod to the disguised dragon. "Let's go shopping."
With Mel leading the way she and Aisha walked a few streets over and a few blocks up until they were in a shopping district. Somewhere along the path the zebra in the jeans and tunic became a pale grey vixen in a business suit. Seemingly at random the vixen chose a shop.
Inside was the sort of plush and perfumed establishment where the attendants sneer the more timid into retreat. Mel gave the nearest clerk a quelling look then quietly stated, "My friend needs a really nice cocktail dress for a party tonight. Please show her what you have suitable." To Aisha she added, "Have fun," before wandering off to look at a display of scarves.
Aisha waved farewell to her comrades in the ice-cream parlor and followed the zebra that was Mel outside towards the shops again. The panthress noticed briefly as, beneath the notice of any passerby, her illusion shifted from zebra to vixen without a blink of an eye. Still, she kept her own composure as well, with a bit of an ironic smile. Just how many image-shifting friends do I have now?
By the time they walked into the clothing store, Aisha had already gotten just a few incredulous looks...padded armor, cape, weapons on her belt...considering all of that, she was looking quite ready for war. And as per the events of the last day, she most certainly was. But at least some of the sneering, overly-posh looks that some gave them couldn't match an adventurer's neutral scowl, and they weren't bothered.
That was when they ran into a clerk, a very golden-colored cheetah with king-pattern stripes along her arms, whom she could hear Mel quietly talking to. The clerk's eyebrows seemed to rise incredulously as she looked the black jaguaress over, as Aisha did in return. "Yeah, sure thing," she smiled at Mel while she watched the disguised dragon go off on her own.
Sighing, Aisha straightened up and gave her own polite smile. It was funny how more comfortable she was buying armor than something formal. "Well, yeah, you heard her," she chuckled. "Perhaps nothing too revealing, and for the love of GOD, nothing pink."
Mel sighed. She had been hoping that the salesclerks would behave themselves and try to be helpful, but the candy-colored fluffiness they were parading before Aisha was ridiculous. Mel's wandering path through the racks brought her up behind the cheetah. "Cute. Now that you have hauled out all the dresses that you could not even sell to sixteen year olds on their way to the prom we can all have a good laugh while you go get the dresses for adults. Something easy to move in and sexy without being too revealing. And no ruffles."
Aisha probably looked like someone worthy to have a bit of a laugh at in the store, and the huntress was quite aware of it.
She walked along with the cheetah clerk and the rest of the other somewhat high-brow individuals under her word as they pulled a few outfits out for her to look at. Because the tomboyish panthress wasn't much of a judge for fashion, she expressed a bit of disdain at all of them shown (which pretty much annoyed the clerk, it was seen), wishing that Mel hadn't been so quick to leave her there.
But that thought didn't stand for long, as she quickly came back to assess the situation, and Aisha gave her a quick smile of relief...along with a sporting laugh. "Are you all really sure I'm supposed to be inside the club? I hate to look like such a nitpicker." She turned her head slightly, looking at the selections. And I'm not sure I can dance, either.
The cheetah gave Mel a vicious look but with a nod from her the ruffled monstrosities disappeared and three dresses were presented. All met the criteria of being relatively modest and not too restrictive. The first was emerald green silk about knee length and v-necked, the shoulders tying in soft bows that trailed down the arms. The second was a deep wine red make of velvet and chiffon, with a corset style top in velvet contrasting with the chiffon straps and skirt. The last was gently shimmering bronze. The bodice of striped silk satin shone in contrast with the two layers of chiffon making up the skirt, calf length in back but climbing above the knees in front. "Would Madame care to try any of these on?"
As Aisha stood, nearly exasperated with the excursion, she watched as the clerk finally took Mel's suggestions into account and gave the panthress a choice of three last dresses. The colors were the first things to catch her eye, especially the red, though the sparkling quality of the bronze came into a close second. The emerald wasn't bad either...her tail ring wouldn't look out of place, with that one.
She nodded to the clerk with a slight smile, hopefully looking more satisfied under the eye of the impatient cheetah and the other clerks. "Sure, I'll try these on," she assented and took each of the outfits into the back dressing rooms.
It was a funny thing in itself to view the mirror; her reflection standing without the look of a feminine warmonger. In each of the dresses, she looked herself over with a slight snort of disbelief that she could look even slightly formal. Meh, why not. I'll just hurt whomever laughs.
It was just a few moments before the panther came back out in her regular outfit, carrying two of the dresses on her left arm and the chosen one on the right: the bronze, satin silk dress, which had taken a fit of indecision to finally choose. "This one's perfect," she told the cheetah clerk, who looked satisfied enough.
Mel smiled a bit at Aisha's choice. The tomboy who didn't want to dress up had chosen the flashiest one. But she would look good and quite in keeping with the style of the club. She handed the saleswoman her own choice, white with a beaded bodice and a chiffon skirt. More revealing than her normal style but since it wasn't her actual form she was wearing being looked over seemed more like an elaborate prank than anything. She was as much of an illusion as anything in that club. The dresses were paid for and carefully wrapped in tissue paper and boxed before being handed over. Mel checked her watch, "That did not take very long at all. Us there anywhere else you need to stop?"
The little rat sat at the counter with the others, watching Mel's illusionary presentation. He filed away information about the parts of the club he hadn't seen previously, all the while quietly attacking a scoop of coconut sherbet. Just as the others got up to leave, he finished it off and wiped his hands on his jeans.
"Hmm... what will I wearing tonight?" He looked up at the husky. "I'm sure I can come up with something appropriate for the occasion. Or did you want to coordinate? Matching suits, and all..."
The spider cocked her head to the side and looked quizzically at Cog, starting to write again as she did. Evidently she had quite some practice to her hand coordination, because she was not the least bit slower or off in her writing. She slid the booklet back over casually, putting her chin in her clawed hand.
I would not bet he doesn't know. And don't underestimate him either, it read.
I'm sure he has some ulterior reason to go through this. Otherwise he would just have disappeared. Her look was less grave than before, but there was an expectant intensity to her eyes. The final row of text read;
And if you have any sort of honor, you will help me stop him.
- -
Stygian raised his left eyebrow a slight bit and smirked at Tez. 'If that's what you wish. I wasn't just going looking for clothes though, even if I'm feeling like some variation,' he said, and stuck his hands in his pockets. 'Maybe I can offer you a few tips.'
Cog read the notebook with one eyebrow raised, and then narrowed his eyes dangerously. He tilted his head, regarding the spider with not a little bit of malice.
"Honor?" he said, silent a moment. "If you need my help, you don't need to try and manipulate me." Cog took off his glasses, glaring at her. "And if you knew half of what you imply you do, you'd know killing Laertes is about as honorable as I could get. And if the bat can help me do that, by distraction or directly...well. But you haven't quite said that, now have you?"
He put his glasses back on. "Still. What, exactly, do you want me to do about it? I doubt the bat is going to care if I tell him 'A little spider told me not to go'. What's more...well. You don't have to tell me why he should stay away, certainly."
His shades glittered. "But it would certainly make me try a little harder, maybe."
The spider frowned, then grinned. She scrawled something in the open booklet, upside down, another difficulty she seemed to handle without much effort.
Then you stay away yourself, along with your friends. As for why, not only would it be the right thing to do, but I would bring you Laertes for it, the message read.
- -
Without waiting for the rat's response, Stygian sauntered off out the door and into the street, picking up a pace and heading off in the direction opposite to where the girls had went.
Cog frowned at the notebook, and settled back into his chair. He didn't speak for quite a long time, instead sipping his drink, lost in thought behind his dark shades. He finally made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, and regarded the little spider warily.
"Mmm." he said, running his tongue over his teeth. "The right thing to do. Well. That is always a good reason. And yet. You're still not telling me -why-."
He narrowed one eye. "First, you tell me you're interested in keeping whatever is going down in that club from happening. Now, it's okay if the bat goes, just not the rest of us." he said musingly. "Now...this is at least the third time I've asked you why. And you still won't say."
Both his eyes narrowed. "And you work for Laertes. Or with him. Despite not trying to kill me, that's not in your favor. So." He leaned back. "You're either hiding something, or you don't know. Forgive me if I don't think it's ignorance."
"And you offer me the one thing you know I want." he said, smiling softly. "Prudent of you, if nothing else." Cog inclined his head a little bit. "Forgive me if I sound rude. I truly do not wish to be. But, you tell me nothing, and I simply can't believe you. I have no reason to."
Cog sat back in his seat, a slightly sad expression on his face. "You have been kind to warn me of danger. And you were also kind to not kill me in the alley. But...this is the last time I'm going to ask. Why do you want the bat to stay away? If you can't tell me that...I have no reason to stay away myself, and no reason to believe you'll hand me Laertes. Even if you could."
Aisha chuckled to Mel as she helped to pay for her dress and took the box containing her dress. At least that was over, and all that was left to look forward to was a club dance...which would be fun or tense, depending on the outcome of the excursion. I swear, if another building burns down...
"Mm, I can't really think of anything else I need, really," she answered, quirking her eyebrow in thoughtful silence as the adventurer started making her way out of the shop. "But now I'm wondering just how everyone's going to hide their weapons, if we're gonna be dressed pretty equally, and trying to be conspicuous," She laughed suddenly. After all, if it took a bit of improvisation to get this far...
For a moment, the spider's face soured, and she sat there just looking at Cog as if he were completely hopeless. Then she seemed to suddenly sadden. She took the booklet and scrawled something down, then slid it over to Cog and looked at him plainly and solemnly as the grave.
Because I have to kill the bat, the note read. Because I want to see this at an end. Underneath those two sentences was a third, that stood out to Cog. Because it's what Giles wanted.
Marya was of a somewhat more tribal religion herself, but something about the way Ace mentioned the Jackal's collection made her pause. "Don't believe him about what? He claim this collection of religious knicknacks contains the holy grail or something?"
Richard simply kept playing music, focusing on nothing else in particular.
After a check and retrieval of his motorcycle and his pocketbook, Stygian took a quick detour past the train station, a great old building with tall glass roofs. Walking into a side hall where they kept safety deposit boxes, he slipped out a single key from his pocket. Only minutes later he returned, straddled his bike and took off.
Truthfully, the bat was glad that the others hadn't decided to follow along, but only partially.
Didn't actually want Edge to miss this, but he's cubi. I guess he got bored. Was prepared to give a speech and all... Ah, well... He swerved across a couple of lanes and cut off a car to get down to another road, heading toward the industrial district of the town.
Guess I'll pay a visit to the smith myself. And then... He wouldn't be back until after the others gathered.
- -
The canine waved her hand and took another swig. 'Well, more or less. I think he's more hooked on the Old Testament things, actually.'
Mel and Aisha's slow stroll through the shopping district brought them back to the area of the coffee shop. A check of her watch showed they were a bit early for their five o'clock meeting. "Would you like to wait for the others in the coffee shop or have a snack at the outdoor cafe across the street?"
Marya quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward, "Assume I'm not that religious. What sort of Old Testament stuff? All I've ever heard about it was all the crap it's used as an excuse for."
Richard sighed and put down the guitar. "'S good for now. Besides, one can only stand so much alternative rock before you need something classic to balance it out." He looked his hands over once and tsked. "Think I mighta messed up my callouses a little. Why don't you play something for a bit, I'll see about fixing my hand up."
Aisha took her time as she walked, making sure to stay in step with Mel while her eyes scanned the surroundings of the city. There were small moments when her ears didn't catch much of what the dragon had said, but instead were listening in large part to her own mind and taking some of the more under-appreciated beauty. Through all the running, escaping, and scheming, it was hard to just, even for a few seconds, play the tourist.
Except, there were probably a few tourists who were killed in their escapades...
A slight shudder brought the thoughts to a sudden halt as she did hear Mel's question about where to go next. Aisha quirked an eyebrow and hummed. "I didn't realize we'd killed so much time, but there's still some left?" She tried to think. She got her shopping done...wasn't all too hungry...
She shrugged. "Well, if you wish, we can go back to the coffee shop and wait. At least that's where I will be," she chuckled and started toward her destination. "Whatever you wish to do, Mel, you can. And also, I thank you for your help on finding my dress; however thankful I didn't look," she smirked again. It was hard to believe that with the events a previous time, she wouldn't have thought more of Mel than an opposition.
Latched to the outside of Richard's door, Xianxi listened with enhanced hearing to the conversation which was going on within the apartment, his form not fluctuating for a moment. If he hadn't been discovered within the first few minutes of his transformation, he assumed it was a safe bet to surmise that those inside were not going to notice his presence. While not endowed with an Eidetic memory like his "sister," Xanthe, Xianxi was still an ideal espionage unit, especially for accumulating information. It was why Keaton bothered with so many Warp-Aci--she viewed them not as meaningless novelties to keep around, but as soldiers to collect knowledge and transport whatever she desired. They couldn't fight, yes, but Xianxi was still unnaturally strong for a Warp-Aci. His original owner had to be a moron to summon something which was beyond their control.
From afar, Keaton studied the apartment. Why was this taking so damn long? She wanted answers now. Inaction infuriated Keaton like nothing else, doubly so when she could be smashing people to pieces. Stygian's instructions had been specific, however, and she was to merely gather knowledge about the intruders, not come barging in with guns blazing. Too risky, apparently. Shunting her impatience off to the side, Keaton decided that, ultimately, her task had been fulfilled. She snapped her fingers.
Although the sound was nearly nonexistent, Xianxi responded to it as though it had been amplified a thousand times more than its original state. Uncoiling his body and jolting out of his inanimate state, Xianxi rocketed himself away from the door, again moving with swift and efficient stealth as he levitated over to his mistress. He settled onto the hand proffered, accepting the rewarding scratch behind one of his tapered ears.
"That'll be enough, Xianxi. Tell me everything you know," Keaton said.
With that, Xianxi divulged everything he had learned in explicit detail--about the descriptions of Richard's visitors, about who was in the apartment, about their apparent motivations. Keaton listened attentively, then grinned. More than enough information had been gleaned. "Good boy," she said, allowing Xianxi to climb onto her shoulder. "That's perfect. We might as well head back..."
"Ah, but mistress," Xianxi asked in his ethereal, faraway voice. "What of the Undead and his companion?"
Keaton went silent, then pondered deeply. She gestured upward with her hand, Xianxi floating with her motion and beginning to encircle her. The prongs bifurcating his tail fused together into one, flat, paper-like shape, billowing behind him with empyreal white coalescing off of its outline. Alabaster energy continued to engulf him until it entirely encompassed his form, trailing behind his body as he spiraled upward, upward, and they vanished in a mute flash of white light.
"He can handle himself for now."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Cog read the note, standing quite still, and them seeming to nod to himself for a moment before sitting back in his chair, sucking in a breath. His face turned ugly for a moment before looking at the spider sharply.
"I asked you before. Stop trying to manipulate me." he said slowly, his words stiffly formal. "Giles is dead, and if you gave a damn about what he wanted, well. You would not be working for who you do, now would you?"
He regarded her for another moment, taking another deep breath. He inclined his head, giving the spider an appraising look. "I have no more reason to trust the bat than I do you. But then..."
He seemed to consider for a moment, the sounds of the cafe seeming to suddenly grow louder. Cups and dishes clanged and the general murmur of conversation pressed in as Cog grew quiet. Behind his shades, the wolf's eyes glittered.
He took the notepad and scribbled a few lines down, and with a large gulp finished the last of his coffee before standing. He tipped his hat to the spider before walking away, the tinkle of the doorbell signaling the end of their conversation.
Sal took the notepad, a little irritated at the wolf's sudden dramatics, and read three short lines, written in cramped, flowing handwriting.
"I have no reason to trust you either.
I'll think about it, but
I still remember Torval"
A while had passed since they had arrived in the town. Ever since they had crashed the car, Gareeku had been absolutely furious. How could have they been so God-damn STUPID? Those fucking idiots have just made things ten times worse than they were before... the wolf thought to himself furiously as he snarled angrily. Shooting Cogi and the others a look that, if looks could kill, would be committing genocide.
"I'm going off for a bit. I'll be back later." the wolf growled to the others, before walking off and disappearing into the crowds of the town.
Since then, Gareeku had not been seen by the other members of the group. Where had he got to? No doubt he was probably somewhere secluded, ranting to himself and about stupid he thought people had been, people were likely thinking, and they would be partly right, too.
However, eventually Gareeku returned, arriving at the café where Aisha said she was going to. However, he also had bought something with him, too; a suit to be exact, only Gareeku had not opted to buy a tie, as he had always found them somewhat restricting. Instead, the wolf would be opting for the slightly more casual option in having the top buttons of his shirt undone once he would put the suit on. Looking around, Gareeku assumed that at least some members of the group would be here, drinking coffee or something similar. Deciding to grab a cup of coffee for himself, the wolf walked to the ordering area while he looked around, before ordering his coffee and taking a few sips.
Mel, still in fox form, nodded acquiescence to Aisha's choice of the coffee shop. "The coffee shop it is then." Crossing the street they returned to their starting place. "It appears we are not the first to finish shopping," she said with a nod in the direction of the wolf and his new garment bag with the name of a men's store emblazoned across it. "I hope whatever you picked looks well with bronze silk beside it."
Hearing the familiar voice behind him and he finished taking another sip of his coffee, Gareeku turned and smiled slightly. It was a smile that would be familiar to them; a smile belonging to the old Gareeku.
"I'm sure it will. Besides, it will be the wearer who will be looking the best." the wolf replied back, before taking another sip of his coffee.
As she entered the coffee shop, the bell at the door ringing to signal the arrival of herself and Mel, Aisha toyed with the collar that held her cape. The shopping trip had been quite uneventful, and after a while in the city she felt a little less afraid of being connected with everything that had happened so far. The only trouble that she encountered was that young bandit.
So she left her cape's color the way it was for the time being, listening to Mel and idly tapping her fingers on the box that held her dress. As she looked up while walking in, the panthress spotted Gareeku sitting at the table with coffee in his hands, and let out a slight chuckle. "Does a vanishing act and is here before us with his shopping. Impressive, amigo," she smirked jokingly and waved a greeting. It was certainly good to see her old friend's smile again, however long or short it may last.
She had to tilt her head slightly however at Mel's statement about his suit looking good next to bronze silk. Aisha hummed a laugh. "Spying, dancing, and being stylish while we're at it. That'll be fun." The dark jaguar then watched the door for the others, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.
Standing at the door to the ice cream shop, Edge watched Stygian stride off down the street without looking back. He shrugged, shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and started off in the opposite direction. After a few blocks, he stepped into the shadows of a graffiti-splattered alley.
And then he was gone.
+ + +
A series of quick pops and sizzles sang out to nobody in the empty stairwell. A naked light bulb flickered, and the dirty, off-white paint showed signs of peeling in the corners. A soft violet tinged the walls when the invisibility field--standard practice in case of observers at their destination--dropped to reveal a short rat standing by the door and a glowing Warp-Aci floating above him.
Ky spun in midair, performing a complete revolution to ensure that everything was in order. Satisfied, it floated down to alight on the rat's head. The Warp-Aci curled its body around the short, greasy hair and willed itself to change. In an instant, the glowing otherworldly entity was gone, the walls had returned to their previous drab shade, and the rodent now wore a colourful purple bandana.
The rat opened the door and stepped into a hotel hallway. It smelled faintly of cheap carpets and cigarette smoke. A fly buzzed around fluorescent lights set in the popcorn-textured ceiling, but the place was otherwise quiet and deserted. He strolled down to the end of the hall and stopped in front of Room 213.
Edge placed a hand against the door, silently examining the wards he'd hidden throughout the room. He nodded. Nobody had been inside since their last visit. This hotel didn't have much in way of maid service. They'd paid in advance in cash, and the hotel staff apparently figured that that spared them from having to lift a finger until this customer left. It was just as well--indeed, one of the reasons Ky had selected this establishment for one of their safehouses on this mission. Apathy and anonymity could provide as much protection as heavy security.
The bandana flopped off the rat's head. As it fell, it dissolved into liquid darkness. The indigo aura returned, and the Warp-Aci hovered by the doorknob in its vaguely feline base form.
Ky flicked its long, thin tail forward and grabbed it in its paws. The tip began to twist into a shape that had earned Ky its name. It remembered the pattern from last time, and this way required far less energy than opening another portal to where Ky had deposited the real room key. Of course, the Warp-Aci's master wouldn't have one. Edge disliked carrying any physical objects that might interfere with rapid shapeshifting. Clothing represented a notable exception--he couldn't hide his clan symbol through personal metamorphosis--but then he'd inherited a natural talent for magically weaving cloth and could now reshape it almost as easily as his own body. Ky poked its tail into the lock and turned.
The lock clicked.
The cramped hotel room was as they had left it. The blinds were closed, but the afternoon sun filtered through the translucent veil. Ky flipped the light switch as Edge secured the door behind them.
The rat's stood in the open space between the lone double bed and the television stand. His clothing came apart at the seams and peeled away from his body. An inky black tendril, wreathed in the same indigo glow as Ky's body, scooped up the pieces and deposited them atop the plain brown bedsheets. Then, it winked out of existence. The rodent's body writhed and grew.
Mottled grey fur turned black as midnight. Dark, greasy hair flowed out into soft golden locks. His pointed muzzle thickened into the fanged grin of a jaguar. A large pair of sapphire-feathered wings erupted from his shoulder blades--angelic at first glance, though the tops featured clawed thumbs and a covering of soft black fur instead of feathers.
Even in his base form, his headwings remained absent. Ky hadn't seen that evidence of its master's Cubi heritage in over a year, dedicated as he was to his new identity as Edge the Bounty Hunter. His back wings, on the other hand, rarely stayed hidden for long. Bound so closely to his shapeshifting powers, they could take damage when he fought--even when morphed. And wings, of course, had their uses too. Ky orbited slowly around the jaguar, inspecting his body for signs of injury.
"You're hurt."Edge stretched out his left wing and folded it in front of him to examine the damage. A patch of broken blue feathers ringed the outer finger. Ky knew that the flesh underneath must have been painfully bruised.
"Ah, yes. That would be Lucian's little stunt with the police officers." The blade of darkness had cleaved a Being in two. "It's not so bad. I'm getting used to the kind of darkness he uses."
Ky shuddered involuntarily but went to work rummaging through the stash of healing supplies. The Warp-Aci retrieved a jar of light amber cream and began rubbing it into the injured wing. Ky frowned upon feeling the extent of the damage. The regenerative balm accelerated the Cubi's naturally rapid recovery, but he had to be at full strength within hours. He'd need a systemic. Ky pulled out a potion vial and handed it to the feline.
Edge held the flask of pale greenish liquid up to the light and frowned. "Apple again?"
"It's lime. They were all out of grape when I stocked this room. Now drink up."Edge shrugged. He drained the vial in one gulp and handed it back to Ky. Through their link, his familiar could already feel the magic going to work, repairing his body from the inside. His wings shrank--flesh and bone sucked back into his body like liquid until he wore the skin of a mere Being once more. A purple glyph across his right shoulder blade--the same symbol that adorned Ky's forehead, though at an angle such that its shape suggested a skeletal wing rather than an eye--provided the sole hint of Creature ancestry. The Mark of Kh'rono. Even among Cubi, few would recognize it as anything more than a curious tattoo, perhaps vaguely familiar thanks to classes in ancient history. But the lost clan had old enemies with long memories, and Edge preferred to keep it hidden.
Ky nodded and repacked the health kit.
"That should do it." The Warp-Aci arced through a lazy backflip to hang upside down, eye-level with its master. It crossed its arms.
"Are you really going through with this?"Edge met his familiar's gaze and grinned. Ky sighed.
It was going to be a very long day.
+ + +
A light chime above the door announced the coffee shop's newest customer: a familiar golden-haired black fox, still dressed in the same slick white suit. He scanned the room for other members of his adopted party, nodding in acknowledgement when their eyes met. He then sauntered over to the counter to order and returned a minute later with a glass of frothy masala chai latte.
'
Just make sure you never stop taking it seriously.'
The voice that materialized was not more than a few steps away, just enough behind them that they should not have been able to see its source. Leaning upon the counter just behind Mel was Stygian, returned to his original form. He was dressed in a sharp new all-white suit with black lining and a black shirt and tie, and his typical wrappings under it. And something else too. A pleasant smirk that would have been at perfect odds with his mood when they had left him.
Looking over them all and almost giving a little pleased nod, the bat spoke to no one in particular. '
I trust you're ready. Has anyone seen Keaton or that wolf?' he asked. Then his smirk and gaze turned toward Edge. '
And before you say anything unnecessary; no, I don't like doors. And I'm not going to disguise myself. I figure she wants to talk to me so bad she'll let me waltz in just like that. It will be a good distraction either way.'
- -
The sonata had gone on for so long that the floating, skipping and dancing notes seemed to drift away, and both the occupants and the residents of the apartment no longer heard the notes themselves but rather the
music. Whoever Laertes was, he was a
most excellent piano player. And that's why the emptiness seemed so hard when he slowly let his fingers drift downward along the keys and ended with a soft but swift finale.
The jackal stood up from his seat and folded down the cover over the keys, then turned to Richard. 'Let's go and see what your friends are up to,' he said.
Richard nodded along with the music. The jackal wasn't half bad. He stood up and followed as Laertes started on his way out.
"Whatever gets you people out of my house."
On the boundaries of the city, just behind a building, there was an acrimonious flicker, beginning as a white spark, but quickly spreading until it bifurcated the air itself like a crescent of alabaster electricity. Wind swept around in a circle, igniting with pale fire and spiraling upward in a sinuous trail, framing a gently palpitating core of white light. Sparks began to flash around the center of this levitating orb of concentrated energy, orbiting faster and faster, burning brighter and brighter--
There was a flash of ivory light, illuminating the alley with a monochromatic glow. Vestigial flickers of alabaster crackled and churned overhead, floating away, away, until they faded, ghostlike, into the daylight, as though they had been assimilated into the sun itself. A slender black figure encircled the area, disintegrating the remnants of teleportation spell with a snap of its tail, restoring the fork to it and reverting the electrically-charged surroundings back to its unassuming self.
Keaton, dimly-highlighted by the glow of her Warp-Aci companion, glowered disapprovingly at Xianxi. "Did you have to make it so conspicuous?"
"My apologies, mistress. It will not happen again. Are there any other ways I can serve you?" was Xianxi's automatic response, as though this particular incident had been rehearsed mechanically for months.
Sighing and rolling her eyes, Keaton extended an arm, gesturing again with her finger in a curling, beckoning motion. "Just stay with me in case," she muttered.
Following this wordless command, Xianxi bent inward, tail furling up like a party favor until it had fully encompassed his form, then he seemed to liquefy and automatically draw in a shadowy puddle towards Keaton's arm, where he reformed in the shape of a pitch black armlet ornamented with a moonwashed Jyraneth Clan symbol. Dusting herself off, Keaton immediately rushed out of the alleyway, running down the street, but then decelerating to a brisk amble when she entered the more densely-populated areas.
---
Finding Stygian took a little bit of effort. She couldn't entirely recall where their designated reunion location was, but once she finally found it she triumphantly jogged over, opening the door to the cafe and entering with a victorious grin on her muzzle. "Hey!" she said cheerfully, approaching everyone assembled, then casually taking a seat at the nearest table. She then spoke in a slightly more subtle voice, out of the paranoid notion that the walls would suddenly sprout ears. "Guess who just retrieved loads of information?"
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"Distraction?" The black fox raised an eyebrow. "Are you not supposed to be the main event?"
The jaguar sat down at the table. Wait... jaguar? The transition had been seamless and instantaneous. The change was surprisingly subtle despite him being a completely different species. His eyes and fur remained the same colour, and he'd elected to keep the shorter, more youthful hairstyle.
"Here I was contracted to bring you in, and you decide to just waltz in on your own." Edge chuckled. "I wonder if I'll still get paid. You are slightly less dead than originally intended."
He leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. "So... should we expect your old friend to use deadly force the moment you step through the door, or will she have the good manners to allow us a drink and a dance before springing her little trap?"
+ + +
You're just begging for another lecture from the scary bat guy, aren't you?
What? It's a valid question. Based on Lucian's description, she may be a mentalist in Veia's league. Personality quirks are among the few weaknesses of such old and powerful Creatures.
Ch-Yah! If you haven't already lost your mind, you can kiss it goodbye fighting someone like that. This isn't a training exercise, you know.
You worry too much, Ky. It won't be that kind of battle, and you know that my minds aren't so fragile. When have I ever jumped into a dangerous situation unprepared?
Alphabetical or chronological order?
Quiet, you.
+ + +
Edge took a sip of his latte and licked the froth from his whiskers. He set his glass down when the enthusiastic Succubus burst into the shop and inclined his head to listen to her news.
Having still a few preparations to make, the wolf spent some time walking about the city. Even in such a large town, certain items could be difficult to find – it was his luck that only thirty minutes or so later, he was ready.
* * * *
The door bell tinkling ahead of him, Cogidubnus opened the door and walked into the coffee shop that was their agreed upon meeting place. He smiled, Aisha and Mel seeming to have returned from their trip, and Gareeku as well, the wolf now seemingly in better spirits. Cog shook his head, and setting his cane down next to his chair the black clad wolf took a seat across from the other wolf
Stygian had returned too. Cog looked at him from behind his glasses, being careful not to move his head. He wondered if the bat already knew. Cog noticed that he was wearing a suit of white, over the cloth wrappings the bat seemed to favor.
Cog would talk to him in a moment. He didn't much feel like explaining why he was here to everyone if he didn't have to.
Keaton seemed to be in the middle of explaining something, and Cog leaned forward, listening attentively.
Stygian smiled warmly at Keaton as she returned, another odd reaction coming from his side. But perhaps not, considering the two of them and their familiarity the other evening. 'I had no doubt you would. We'll get to it, in due time.' The bat walked around and leaned with both arms on the counter. 'One mocha latte for me please,' he ordered. As he did, he casually let his hand drift down, its shadow crossing Keaton's as it slowly shifted, defying the light and darkening further at the point of intersection. It was a subtle maneuver, too subtle to be seen other than incidentally.
Suddenly, sensations and emotions that seemed to come from nowhere, gloom and pain and strange dark pleasure, filled Keaton's senses. And then, as if she were hearing the thoughts which had previously seemed nonexistent, Stygian's voice echoed in her head, stronger than the wailing sounds backdropping it.
Don't say too much yet. Speak generally. We'll talk outside.
The voices and the emotions faded as quickly as they had appeared, and taking his coffee, the bat turned back toward Edge. 'Tch. I thought you'd already figured that out.' He took a sip, then grimaced slightly when it proved still too hot. 'If not, we wouldn't be going into that club at all. Though if it's money you really want, I think I can offer you some compensation. Not that I know what a cubi would do with it, but...' He smiled again, then passed a look over all the assembled. 'Either way, I think we are all ready. Any questions?'
Not much longer after Aisha had started watching the door, idly standing with Mel and Gareeku, before her ears caught the chime of the bell above the entrance. The first one to have arrived was the blackish fox. What was his name? Edge? The panthress recalled, dismissing it with a shrug and giving him a nod of greeting. And not long after came the bat's voice, which made her turn her head a little quickly in surprise that it had come from behind. He was already dressed up sharply. Heh, another on-time disappearing act. That's five, she counted those showing up so far.
Oh, wait, six. Then it was followed by Keaton, the succubus looking quite excited and with energy in her steps, which somewhat amused Aisha. So far the spirits of the group had lifted somewhat and things seemed to be going as planned. A quick and mental prayer of luck, and she started to listen in with the others as the jackal would start to relay her information. Before she could start though, Stygian had chimed in.
"No questions from me, hombre," Aisha commented to his query. "People might be as ready as they can be." She looked over the others, only pausing to notice that where Edge had sat was now a figure more feline. An eyebrow quirked at this, but by now she was used to the prospect of appearance-shifters in the group, and shook her head. How weird is THAT, adventurers of all ages.
Although Keaton was associated with Stygian before, she admitted to herself that she had thought the warm smile he cast at her was oddly uncharacteristic--rather, unexpected. Whether or not it was a particularly good thing was beyond her, but hey, it wasn't likely that he was going to kill her, and she had done nothing wrong, so it couldn't be anything malignant.
This reasoning was interrupted once she felt that sudden, palpable amalgamation of emotions suddenly surge within her body, filling her with an ominous invading presence which nearly startled her into screaming. Instead, she twitched unpleasantly at this, even when Stygian's unheralded voice entered her head. Mind-invasion. Wonderful. He could do that, even when her memories and thoughts were thoroughly fortified and protected. Hopefully he wasn't into poking around her more "interesting" memories, but this paranoia faded.
Keaton leaned back, pretending not to be startled, although it was clear she had received the message. For now she just idly allowed her eyes to wander, giving into the compulsive and spontaneous attention-lapses that Cubi suffered from. When Stygian directed a question to everyone, Keaton thought for a minute, then shrugged. She at first wasn't sure about what to do with her weapon, Catastrophe, but she could either store it in a pocket of shadows or have Xianxi warp it someplace.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The jaguar finished his drink and stood. He straightened his jacket.
"Would anyone care for a mind shield before we enter the lion's den?"
Mel tapped Aisha on the shoulder and pointed towards the ladies room. "We'll be ready in a moment, Ignatz." The pale grey fox picked the box with her new dress off the floor by her feet and preceded the pantheress into the room. While it was large for the size of the coffee shop it was still a small room. Not that it mattered; they didn't need luxury accommodations or a ton of room. Quickly her jacket, blouse, and trousers were tossed into her belt bag and the glittering white dress dropped over her head, it's strings tied in neat little bows behind neck and back. She spent the most time creating the illusion of an elaborate hairdo. Done with her own preparations she picked up her belt bag. With a gesture much like setting it on an invisible shelf it disappeared from sight. "Need help, Aisha?"
Stygian nodded, blew on his coffee and then sat down. 'Right. So long as we are prepared to go.' He coughed and took on a little bit more serious look, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot. 'While the girls are fixing up...'
The bat glanced over the group. Cog had seemed about to say something but held still, Keaton he would talk to, Edge seemed oddly silent and apprehensive for a cubi and Gareeku was his new, perpetually partly agitated self. The important part was that none of them seemed more conspicuous than any other group of adventurers or jumped-up streetlifers who acted tougher and sometimes were tougher than they had the smarts for. And if he just kept attention on himself and Edge...
'Alright. They probably won't let anyone with weapons in, so if you have anything that you can conceal, that's perfect. Non-magical, please. What you have on you, you either have to hide elsewhere, or you can't go in.' He looked Cog and Gareeku over. The two would be very hard to keep from going at each other if they were left alone outside, but if they covered the exits... 'Edge is coming with me. That's obvious. Keaton, if you like I would want you in there too. Anyone who can shapeshift without detectable magic is valuable. Mind shields probably will not be necessary, as they probably keep most magic and mind-reading suppressed in there, but slap some on just for safety's sake.' He darted a look toward the ladies room again, and then back to the others. 'The plan is basically that we go in, and see what happens. And if things go wild, we pull back out as fast as we can.'
He paused, waiting for whatever questions might come up.
Aisha had nearly jumped, a little bit in thought, and thus not expecting a tap on the shoulder from Mel. She glanced at her with a bit of incredulity, and then her gaze followed to where she had pointed. Already? her eyes seemed to say, but the panthress had little room to argue. With a quick nod to excuse herself, she followed Mel to the restroom while carrying her box.
As she changed her clothes, Aisha wondered where she indeed was going to put her weapons. There was no elaborate way that she knew of to disguise them for a formal dance. Maybe there's a safe around here, or something, she thought, shaking her head while putting on her dress and fixing herself up.
In about as much time as Mel had to prepare, Aisha was looking at a reflection in the mirror that once again seemed hardly as herself. A dark ebon feline with the easily-seen strength of an adventurer with a silk dress of bronze encompassing her figure. She smoothed it out, feeling slightly uncomfortable without her battle clothes. She had untied her long black hair from the braid it was normally in, instead making it a loose ponytail. The way some strands of hair still framed her face made her look a little more casual, anyway. Still it felt just as illusory as Mel's fox body.
"No, I'm fine," she answered the dragon with a nod, placing her clothes in the box. "Let's get this over with, then," there was a sort of a snort-laugh after that as she stepped out of the door.
Brushing a bit of dust off his pants, Cogidubnus grabbed the cane leaning on the table next to him and stood, carrying the stick in one hand while the other worked at the black cord attached to his sword and tied to his belt. His nimble fingers worked quickly to untie the knot, and looping the cloth around his fingers he pulled the sword out of his belt.
Cog let his blade simply hang in his free hand. He nodded at the bat's words, and tilting his head he opened his mouth. He paused just a moment, closing his mouth again, and then continued, letting his glasses slide down his nose just a bit. He gave the bat a strange look.
"Odd folk we have in this city." He said, locking eyes with the bat for just a moment before looking away. The wolf coughed and changed the subject suddenly. "Alas. Pardon my forgetfulness, but I don't seem to remember where you wanted me. Guarding something, I think...?"
As he waited for a response, his eyes passed over Edge, Cog raising an eyebrow for a moment as he adjusted to the Incubus's new form. He nodded at the black fox, keeping his face carefully neutral. "If we are trusting you when we go in there, no point in not trusting you now. If you are providing assistance, it would be most appreciated."
"Ah, trust... that most rare and valuable of gifts..." Edge smiled. He pulled a chair away from the table and motioned to the seat. "Step into my office, if you please. This won't take a minute."
The black jaguar waited for Cogidubnus and then extended his hands, holding them out with palms facing on either side of the wolf's head. There were no incantations, glowing hands, or flashy light shows. Either this particular enchantment did not involve such displays, or Edge chose to hide them through illusions or metamagic. He raised his hands and clapped them together.
"There we go. Our main opponent for the evening is apparently a mentalist of considerable power. This ward will not keep her out should she truly desire access to your mind, but it will guard against casual scans and lesser enchantments."
He paused and looked around to see if anyone else would take him up on his offer.
Staying quiet as the others talked and observed, Gareeku then decided that it was time that he changed into his appropriate outfit. Disappearing for a few minutes, the wolf then remerged dressed in his suit. As mentioned before, Gareeku did not possess a tie, instead leaving the top buttons of the white shirt undone. Waiting for the others, the wolf finished his coffee and pondered what he would do with his sword.
Stygian raised one eyebrow, and glanced sideways at Edge, continuing to nurse his coffee. 'Nobody's trusting anyone. That's why you are coming with me,' he said, and grinned. 'I'm the one being called out here, and I have the most to lose. That's the only reason I expect you people to follow my guidance on this.'
For a moment, the bat looked over them all, and though he continued smiling, there was something in the hardness of his dark eyes that told them precisely what he meant by doing so. I mean this. And consider it closely, they seemed to say. Then, the brief moment of seriousness was over and he chuckled, sipping his latte.
Mel followed Aisha out of the ladies room with a swish of her currently fluffy fox tail as well as an experimental swish of the floating chiffon skirts of the dancing dress. She watched Edge's mindshield technique with curiosity, but made no comments.
When Stygian mentioned mind shields, Keaton self-consciously wondered if her current protections were insufficient. After the incident which had resulted in her being expelled from SAIA she had been quick to review and restore her mind-shields, reinforcing them tenfold, but it had been a while since she last renewed them. Well, at least it was relieving to hear that the club had restrictions on mind-reading and magic. If someone attempted to scan her mind she didn't want to fisticuff them.
Ah, but attire. Keaton hated formal dressing, but if everyone else was doing it... bah. It would be too out of place and tasteless not to "dress" up. She'd handle that when she organized a proper disguise when shapeshifting. She thought she would try her favorite Being disguise, but maybe something drastically different from her ordinary appearance would suffice. Gave her an opportunity to exercise her slightly rusty transmogrification abilities. From afar Keaton watched Edge perform the rudimentary, yet unusually less-flashy fortification of Cogidubnus's mind, noticing Mel and Aisha depart from the ladies' room. Hearing Edge's remark about the specialties of their next opponent, Keaton's concerns were revitalized, and she raised her hand.
"Hey. Think you can give my mind-shields a one-over?" she asked. She left it at that.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
'Depends on where you think you'll do most good. However, things considered, covering an exit would be most convenient,' Stygian answered Cog with a half-boorish smile, before the girls entered. Quirking an eyebrow, Stygian made an appreciative smirk and a content hum at the sight of Mel and Aisha in their new outfits. He wasn't so sure about Mel fitting as a fox, even though she could be sly enough for one. Nor was he as comfortable as he seemed with acting like that toward Aisha while Gareeku was in the same room. But it seemed fit for the situation.
'Neat,' he commented, and reminded himself to ask Mel about Edge's work, since mental magic and psionics wasn't exactly his field of expertise. If anyone should be laying protection like that on them, then it was Mel. And while the incubus didn't seem so stupid as to be tampering with their protection in plain sight, he had seen dumber things in action. 'Remind me to take you somewhere more fitting if we pull this off just as planned,' he said, and grinned at the 'vixen'. However professional their relationship, he was familiar enough with her that it would be a fun time. And he'd had too little of that lately.
Edge raised an eyebrow. Keaten felt a light pinprick in the back of her mind. It grew into a sensation akin to being circled by hungry, feral wolves searching for an opening to strike. Then it was gone.
"I don't see any obvious holes in your mental defences. As for whether they'd keep out a more forceful intrusion..." He shrugged.
Seeing as how everyone else had assembled, the dark jaguar fiddled with the collar of his shirt, opening it slightly to show off the gold chain around his neck. He ran fingers through his golden hair until it was perfectly mussed. He then adjusted his white suit jacket once more time, caught a reflection of himself in the window, and smiled with a gleam in his white fangs that seemed a little too sharp to be natural.
"Looks like we're good to go."
Staying quiet as the others entered the café, Gareeku then decided that it was time he changed clothes. Finishing his coffee, the wolf then slipped into the café's restrooms. Emerging a few minutes later, Gareeku was now dressed in his suit. Holding his shirt blazer over his shoulder for the time being, it was plain to see that the suit was a perfect fit for him. With the top buttons of the white shirt undone complementing the look, it gave the wolf a look that said smart, yet not overly so.
There was a pause, during which none of them spoke. Stygian just looked, first at the others, then for a while longer at Edge. Then he shrugged. 'I guess,' he said and stood, walking over toward the dark windows. 'Just take it easy. And if you don't stay together, at least work together.'
The bat pushed open the doors and exited the café, walking like a beautiful, strange white ghost out into the black evening.
"Thank you." Cog said, inclining his head at the fox incubus as he stood. He moved a bit to the side, nodding at the Bat's comfirmation.
"Sounds like a plan, then." the wolf replied, walking up to the door and leaning next to it, his back against the wall.
Cog exhaled, not looking at anything in particular, and waited for everyone to get ready, his arms hanging limply at his sides, a sword dangling from one and a cane from the other. As the bat suddenly turned and made for the door, however, the wolf's ears perked, and as Stygian exited the wolf caught the door with his foot and followed.
He took in a deep breath, his eyes passing over the crowd around him as he followed the bat. He narrowed his eyes.
He didn't see her...but then, he hadn't seen her before.
The wolf breathed deeply, and took in the smells around him. Almost overwhelming, but then, perfume was usually easily told apart.
Upon feeling the pinprick sting at the back of her head, Keaton quelled all nervousness and concentrated, revealing the walls of her defenses for inspection. She was rather thankful when the circling feeling which indicated Edge's examination ceased--such a clinical sensation made her feel rather exposed--and even more thankful to hear that there weren't any flaws in her mental security. Wonderful--as paranoid as Keaton was about people invading her mind, she doubted the person they were confronting would do such a thing. What would she have that would interest them?
Gareeku returned from the restrooms in a new, smart-looking outfit around the time Stygian left. Remembering that he wanted information, Keaton stood up, then buried her hands in her pockets, meandering casually after him, while humming something under her breath. Her index and thumb curled around the spherical object nestled in her pocket, unconsciously fiddling with it.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
As Aisha walked out of the bathroom with Mel, she couldn't help but feel quite out of place, even when the others were dressed just as formally. Still she glanced over the group, giving a complementary smile to each individual. "Well, we all look handsome enough," she commented, giving a sideways glance to Gareeku as she did so. Then she leaned back on the counter, having observed Edge offering mind shields to those who'd need it. The panthress didn't speak up, feeling like she didn't; she was quite good at keeping any thoughts away from those who'd pry, however bold one would think the action was.
Then, the word was given to leave, and she cast a glance out into the evening. It looked peaceful enough. But behind the scene lay a deceitful background. Here goes nothing... The bat had walked out of the shop first...Aisha started meandering along just a close enough to the group, the dress she wore shimmering bronze under what lights were on outside...admittedly beautiful, she thought. But still something to get used to.
Early spring meant that Haszal was as dark as midnight, even though it was barely six in the afternoon. Leaf-strewn streets and looming, classical buildings, with only the light in the windows and a few streetlights for illumination gave the city the dreamlike and moody aura that it was famed for. But in the dark night there was something else as well, standing out against the dreamlike ambivalence of the environment, something hard and powerful.
Stygian strolled a bit before them, hair rustling slightly in the wind and his hands in his pockets. The shadows seemed to almost slither over his nearly luminous white form. He kept his stride slow, seemingly unconcerned and detached. It only took about half a minute after they exited before the first streams of smoke and the pungent smell of tobacco drifted back from him.
As Aisha reappeared from changing, Gareeku's jaw dropped as he looked at her. In that dress she looked truely stunning, and it took a lot to throw the wolf off like that.
Wow... the wolf thought to himself as he looked at her. ...Beautiful...
Suddenly realising what he was doing, Gareeku snapped himself out of it, looking away slightly as he softly cleared his throat.
However, when Gareeku looked at her again, he could see the pantheress glancing at him while complimenting people on their appearence. Hearing Aisha's comment, the wolf's cheeks turned a shade of pink as he looked away again. It was probably somewhat amusing to see the usually grumpy-looking wolf act like this.
It was then, however, that Gareeku saw the signal that it was time to leave. Thinking it wise not to take his weapon with him, the wolf gave his outfit and sword to the member of staff behind the counter, slipping them some money while he did so. Knowing what this meant, the member of staff nodded and went to store away his items of clothing and sword. Realising that aisha was most likely in the same predicament, the wolf then slipped some more money the member of staff's way and asked them to offer to take care of her things while they were out.
Edge left the comforting warmth of the cafe and stepped out into the gloomy night and chill northern winds. He set off in the direction of the club. As the giant neon harem girls of the Red Sands loomed before them, he fell into step behind Stygian.
"I suppose you want to do the talking at the door?"
As if he had noticed neither the mood of the surroundings, nor the presence of the jaguar, Stygian stood humming for a little while. The tune was almost cheerful, a bounding, part-syncopated jazz that would have gone with subtle riffs and strings.
'Lovely... Never, ever change... Keep that breathless charm... Won't you please arrange it...?' he hummed, his smooth voice pleasurable and well-tuned. Then he looked at Edge. 'Certainly,' he answered. 'But don't mind if I listen to the others first while we get in.' He made a quick look over his shoulder back at Keaton.
A deceptively peaceful breeze swept and encircled Keaton as she ambled casually behind Stygian, muddy-blonde hair draped leisurely over her shoulders rustling and billowing slightly in the wind. Solitary ring-shaped piercing festooning her earlobe jostled slightly with each one of Keaton's swaggering steps, seeming to punctuate each movement of her body. Regardless of the current time, the town was draped in the darkness Keaton thrived in and derived her powers from, putting her in a strangely and uncharacteristically calm mood. Stygian seemed to be the same way, reminiscent of his own abilities, although judging by the tune he was humming he was much more actively content than she was.
Now was as good a time as any. Nodding affirmatively to herself upon Stygian's silent, insinuating glance, she gestured for the predatory bat to follow her into a nearby alleyway. Slanted, sinuous shadows cast over them by the protective surface of the buildings flanking them concealed them from prying eyes, fortunately, making their appearances quite safe. Once she was certain, Keaton decided to take action.
Already her body began to coalesce, as though something were rippling beneath her skin. Goldenrod-yellow started to drain from her body, sinking further and further down in flowing spirals of saffron as the atramentous darkness of her markings encroached further on her form. The yellow oozing away seemed to adopt a tangible, syrupy texture, easily becoming swallowed up by the monochromatic jaws of her markings until there wasn't a speck of light on left on her pelt.
"So," she stated, reaching up to massage her ears, "I take it you wanna hear what I have to say."
Ears shortened and shaped into a less broad, tapered structure and her tail shed its voluminous fur as it withdrew into a blunt length. Ginger spots started to materialize, at first in intermittent dapples coating her back in splashes of dusty brown, maroon, and amber, but then manifesting in other exotic, speckled patterns on her muscular body.
"I'll tell you everything once I've finished this."
When the transformation was complete there was hardly anything recognizable about Keaton's appearance--she had fully transmogrified into a pretty Doberman, curvaceous in form and not at all consistent with her former visage save for the white angle on her hip and the vague similarities in their hairstyles. The armlet which Xianxi had transformed into was still resting on her upper arm. Almost as an afterthought, Keaton fished into her pocket and removed her marble, then transformed the remainder of her current apparel into a classy dress slightly modeled after Mel's attire--she wasn't familiar with such formal design, so she had to experiment slightly with one of their clothing choices to create something relatively within the club's standards. Her clan marking was still exposed, but people could still probably mistake it for an exotic tattoo, if she was fortunate. Jewelry sprouted from her ears and wrists, taking the form of silvery bracelets and earrings.
Now she was finished. Keaton gave an experimental twirl, making her dress swirl and flourish, and then grinned as she looked at Styg. Facial features were still angular, like hers, but slightly more rigid, befitting of such an animal. Keaton slipped her marble inside of a pocket on her armlet, which seemed to open up and accept the object as it transformed into a shape that better accentuated her attire.
"Okay," Keaton said pleasantly, clasping gloved hands together. "Let's cut to the chase."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Just before Aisha had left the shop, she indeed also wondered what she was going to do with her weaponry...she had her things tucked beneath one arm as nearly everyone started out the door. Watching Gareeku, though, she noticed that the wolf had left them with the store. Why not, she shrugged. It's as good a place as any.
When she was to do the same with her weapons, prepared to pay for the services, the clerk surprisingly told her that she was already taken care of as well, that the white wolf had paid for it. The panthress turned back to watch him start to leave, curiously regarding him. She couldn't get it from her mind either how Gareeku had looked at her when she came out with her dress. Who'd have thought. I guess the dress was a good idea, she thought, blushing slightly to herself as she had rushed to catch up with them.
The night turned out to be quite an early one, and once again the city took on a whole new appearance than from when it was daylight. Lights peered down at the group from every angle, and surely they had caught a few wandering night eyes, dressed the way they were as they came upon the looming sight of the Red Sands. There they paused nearby, noticing that some of the group were breaking off to briefly talk of their plans. Keaton, Stygian, and Edge, specifically seemed to be speaking among themselves.
Aisha felt like waiting for the others before she'd enter it herself, her arms crossed as she looked up to regard the shimmering neon sign of the club. "For a mission this looks quite like fun," she muttered. Then, her eyes turned briefly to Gareeku again. "I hope that vanishing for a while hasn't let you forget how to dance, amigo. That is unless you never knew anyway," she joked, a playful smirk on her features.
Unexpectedly, Stygian grinned at Keaton. For a second she almost thought that it was because of her transformation, and she would have been right. As cute as she was in her regular form, she had a talent for picking tasteful alternatives it seemed. Then he dispelled that notion.
'If you are about to tell me that there is a jackal named Laertes after me, I already knew it. I also know about his friends Carey and Ace,' he said, smiling knowingly. 'They're not an issue. In fact they have been trailing me for a while. I was hoping that they would come so I could sic them on Ash in the confusion.' His smirk dimmed a little, and he looked down, taking an accentuating pause. 'Actually, I was rather depending on them. To keep things in check, if not under wraps.'
In-between narcissistically adjusting her slightly aerodynamic hairstyle and experimenting with the bangs' shape and style, the newly-transformed Keaton overheard Stygian laugh, then state almost every tidbit of information that she had accumulated without batting an eye. Involuntarily, Keaton jerked slightly, then stared in utter bewilderment at Stygian, hazel-hued eyes looking slightly owlish in her confusion. Realizing that she probably looked a lot like a dehydrated goldfish at this point, she regained her composure and set back to changing her hair into a shoulder-length mane of wavy curls the same hue as her black base fur color.
"You, uh..." Keaton didn't bother altering her voice or her dialect--they weren't within the club, after all, and not under any scrutiny. "You're familiar with these people, Styg?"
Keaton spun around to look at Catastrophe, which was leaning against the brick wall of the nearest building. She made a sweeping gesture with a flick of her wrist, and the wall itself seemed to ripple, almost as though the darkness coating it was just a layer of syrupy substance. Diving inward to form a strangely hollow indentation reminiscent of a gaping maw, the shadows seemed to draw Catastrophe inside of it, then with another flamboyant movement of her hand it had sealed off again, restoring everything to its formerly innocuous appearance. Keaton dusted her hands off and looked back to Stygian. Catastrophe would be safe and sound for now, and she could draw it back out of the little pocket of darkness she had stored it in whenever she needed it.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
'Somewhat,' was the bat's direct response. 'At least Ace is very well known to me. And I am intimately familiar with the order to which Laertes adheres. Carey is just a pirate and a raider, and little more.' The bat's unflinching declaration of things still left one thing out though. 'I assume that they noticed me, somehow? That was intentional. We don't have to worry much about them. They're just adventurers,' he said, and smiled wickedly at Keaton again, a glinting fang just visible and making the winning charm into something more predatory upon examination. His eyes followed her mace as it flowed out of sight, taking in the details of its hiding method and place. Not that he was unfamiliar with storing things in that manner, but because he had always wondered why someone like Keaton would bother with such a weapon.
A small, smiling sigh, and then the bat closed on Keaton, standing behind her back, leaning down and speaking in a lower tone and voice. 'Don't worry. It was for confirmation. I also wanted you to get a feel for things. And more importantly, I wanted to make sure nothing had changed.' He patted her on the shoulder. It was strange that the girl should enjoy praise from someone as he, rather than fear him, but he had seen it before. 'You've done a good job. Now, shall we get going?'
Not waiting for a response, Stygian turned and walked back out of the alley, giving the others a quick look before heading up the street toward the club.
As Stygian further elaborated on his explanation, Keaton shuffled where she stood and clinically inspected her appearance, spontaneously adjusting anything which inched even a centimeter outside of her perfectionist standards. It had been quite some time since she modified her physical appearance outside of simply concealing her wings and head-wings, so she was afraid that she had grown rather rusty. That was the price one had to pay for becoming confident, she supposed.
Keaton inclined her head towards Stygian, feeling intimidation spike up her spine. Although she was familiar with the bat and his mannerisms, he still had an air of unpredictability and could easily unnerve the normally unflappable jackal. Once his hand had rested on her shoulder she felt herself involuntarily ease up, and she couldn't help but smirk slightly at her accomplishment prior.
"Alright," she said casually, giving her disguise one final appraisal. Finally satisfied, she followed Stygian close behind, the remnants of her combat boots disintegrating and warping into high heels as she ambled after him.
Into the club they went.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Making sure to keep his footfalls soft, Cog walked just a little distance behind the Jackal and the Bat, both of the wolf's ears perked. Though neither of them could see it, his expression darkened as they continued to talk, eventually settling into a simple, neutral expression. His thumb tapped the hilt of his sword absently.
Keaton's transformation drew his gaze, no matter how much Cog tried to keep his eye out for the spider woman. The Cubi's metamorphosis was both stomach-turning and morbidly fascinating at the same time. She eventually settled on her appearance, clacking away with high-heeled shoes as she followed the bat.
Cog hung back for a moment, thinking, and then started jogging, catching up with the two for a moment.
Both of them already knew about Laertes. He supposed it wouldn't matter so much.
Coming up beside Stygian, Cog tapped the bat's heel with the end of his cane and turned his head. He regarded the bat silently for a moment, and then coughed and spoke, his voice low and serious.
"Are you aware a spider-woman is trying to kill you?" he said, his eyes watching the bat carefully.
The bat blinked, and nearly missed a beat in his step. The hesitation was minute, but it was there, and Cog perceived it.
'A spider, you say?' he said, his tone suddenly devoid of that leering note and much more cautious. They were nearing the club, but he was walking at a calm pace. 'You don't see many of those. In fact, you don't see them at all, really.' He considered for a moment, wondering how he might lead the wolf on. Then he looked directly at him, his face somewhat relaxed but his black eyes hard as stone.
'And? What did she say?' he said.
Cog looked away for a moment, taking another deep breath. "She didn't say anything. She did write quite a bit, however." The wolf said, looking over his shades at the crowd. "But, she did want me to convince the others to not go to the club. As something terrible was going to happen." he said, looking again at the bat. "She's also working with Laertes. But you seem to know him."
Cog tilted his head for a moment, looking in the distance at the lights of the Red Sands. "She's going to try to kill you. Possibly all of us. And if she isn't as fast as I am, she has enough arms to make up for it." Cog's cane clacked on the concrete, and he looked at Stygian out of the corner of his eye.
"I thought you might like to know. Or, perhaps, you would know why the hell she -didn't- kill me, and told me all of this." Cog said, his face carefully neutral.
At Cog's words, Stygian silenced for a while, turning his gaze forward and down again. Right before they came up to the entrance to the club he stopped, and looked back at the other members of the group, a bit behind them.
'I am glad you chose to tell me. Thank you,' he said, and turned his eyes to Cog. 'I am not sure whether if you know precisely what is going on, but yes. I know Laertes. I know her as well.' He stopped and bit his lower lip gently. 'If they are working together, however... She didn't kill you just because you might help her, I think.'
Again, the bat turned his head, this time to gaze up at the tall entry of the Red Sands at the top of the front stairs. He seemed to hesitate for a moment.
'My... I think this changes things. Why she would want to kill me, I do not precisely know. But I have my hunches. It doesn't alter anything right now though.' He seemed to pause, almost as if considering his own words for a second. Then he took a step, and walked slowly up toward the entrance.
The line and crowd gathered outside the Red Sands was long and large, all sorts of fashionably dressed individuals gathering before one of the town's most popular clubs. Not content with simply waiting, most were standing smoking, talking and doing various little things like chatting in cellphones or even the odd magical trick for amusement. There was no sign of anyone being let in, but as Stygian approached the lone bouncer, a hard-lined and muscular fellow in an immaculate black suit and with a lone golden earring, the tiger looked down the low stairs at him and moved one post of the rope barrier bordering off the line to the side.
'Mister Donovan,' the big feline said, his voice coarse but businesslike. 'We have been expecting you.' Stygian in turn only nodded and proceeded up the steps and in, into the low, shifting light and the music.
Listening to Aisha's comments as he walked, Gareeku smirked slightly.
"I've never been one for dancing." the wolf replied gruffly, glanced towards the pantheress for a moment. "But that doesn't mean I don't dance."
It would only be a few minutes later before the group arrived outside of the club. However, it would soon become apparent that apart from Stygian, none of them were allowed inside.
"Great. So I spent that money on this suit for nothing." the wolf muttered as he watched Stygian head inside.
No sooner had the bat disappeared than the tattoo of high heeled shoes on pavement sounded. The sound of annoyed privilege carrying a little silver fox up to the door. The vixen had a body language that said she mostly got what she wanted. "I see that you have begun letting people in."
Mel knew what a typical bouncer looked for when choosing clientele. First was ability to spend a ton of money, which was why she had insisted on real dresses rather than illusions. Even with an ability to detect magic he would see that the dress and jewelry were real and high end. Second was decorative value, so her fox disguise was much better looking than her accustomed nondescript and forgettable illusions. Third was how much of a magical tantrum were you risking by turning someone away. One didn't want unhappy fae or angels blowing holes in the front of your business or turning your customers into trout. She let a little bit of magic leak out, just enough to show a hint of frustration. She just hoped that the feline was a typical bouncer and that she had struck the right balance of looks, money, and magic.
Contrary to Gareeku's words and expectations, the large feline still stood to the side, watching Cog and then down the street with a sort of muted expectancy, gazing over the street with his yellow eyes, searching for something. Then he looked back to Cog again, raising his brow just a bit. 'You are with him, I presume?' he asked.
No sooner had he asked than Mel stepped up to face him. A few of the waiting patrons shot them confused and angry glares, others just passed a jaded look over them, knowing that some guests were always favored no matter what they paid for in drinks and service. The tiger shrugged off their looks, completely unconcerned. Mel's apparition seemed an event on a different continent.
While question didn't so much as shift the guard's face, the vixen's mannerisms and slight magical aura at least made his left eyebrow climb a hair. 'Mister Donovan and company. I assume you file under the latter, miss?' he said carefully. 'I was told to expect five.'
Edging her way leisurely to her companions, Keaton slid into place smoothly beside a slightly irked Gareeku, looking quite appropriately smug. She didn't see a reason not to be--her disguise was perfect, she had accomplished something useful, and--well, that tangent deteriorated out of her thoughts soon enough, especially when she noticed how jerkily matters were proceeding. Stygian had no trouble entering the club, but there apparently needed to be some form of verification before the rest of them could enter. She wasn't sure, she hadn't heard the conversation. All that mattered was that they could enter, they should've entered, and now there was some sort of barricade in the way. Hilarious how the agitation rising off of some of those waiting in line was almost the soundtrack to her impatience.
Sighing in a rather unladylike, irritated manner unbefitting of her elegant subterfuge, Keaton leaned off to the side, quirking her newly-curvaceous hips (fortunately, the one bearing her clan marking was thrust out of sight) and eyes combing over her fingernails. As she waited, partially listening into the exchange between the vixen (she assumed that was Mel, attributing her illusionist skills and how casually she interacted among them), she formulated a false identity for her to use in case someone queried her on her name.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"The plot thickens. Does anyone around here not want you dead?"
Edge leaned against the corner of the alley entrance with his arms crossed, waiting patiently while Keaton and Stygian finished their little talk. He wore a faint smirk that just barely revealed one of his fangs. Brightly painted grafitti above him proclaimed: Come Kill Stygian (Line Starts Here). It faded and morphed back into a more mundane tag as the pair exited the alley.
The smartly dressed young jaguar strolled up to the club entrance after Stygian, his pace leisurely and his hands clasped comfortably behind his back. He nodded to the bouncer, briefly wondering if the tiger remembered him from last night or expected to see him alive again. And then he stepped into the lion's den.
Quite unceremoniously, and somewhat embarrassingly, Stygian reappeared at the top of the stairs, hands tucked in his pockets and suddenly looking a bit flustered. He gave the trio at the bottom of the stairs a sharp look, and then raised his eyes to look at Gareeku and Aisha further down the street, bowing slightly forward and making a mocking gesture that practically spat out the words 'Shall we go then?'. He held in place, waiting for the others to catch the drift. Meanwhile, the bouncer took one look at Edge and then ignored him, simply letting him pass by. Most likely he did remember the man, but had been instructed just to admit him and nothing else.
Keaton noticed Stygian's appearance at the top of the stairs, and wasted no time in analyzing the look on his face. Its meaning was clear enough. Sighing and tucking a ringlet of curled hair behind her tapered ear, Keaton walked abruptly into the club upon Stygian's instructions, practicing making every one of her steps as exaggerated and graceful as possible just to flaunt some unseen opulence, and possibly piss off a few impatient people waiting in the culminating line behind them. There was no real reason behind this other than to toy with their emotions, and possibly harvest some smoldering irritation blistering off of their forms.
Either way, she didn't get the opportunity to savor it. She was already past the bouncer and inside the club, hiding a smirk.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Cog nodded absently at the bat's words. They had reached their destination - perhaps not the best time to be discussing such sensitive things.
Although, if what Stygian had been saying was true, it wouldn't matter much what the people in the club heard. They were about to find out.
Taking a moment to let the bat pass though, the wolf stepped aside for just a moment to let the bouncer speak, nodding his head at the tiger and taking a hesitant step forward. He didn't really frequent clubs very much, and the wolf felt a bit recitent.
"Yes." he responded, meeting the tiger's yellow eyes with his own. He tapped the sword he was carrying in his left hand on the ground. "I assume someone can take care of this for me, while I'm in there?" he said, walking past the bouncer.
He supposed he would be stopped if he was supposed to give it to him. He entered the club slowly, looking for some sort of check in, and brushing past a returning Stygian as he walked in.
As she stood next to Gareeku, hearing his statement about dancing, Aisha couldn't help but chuckle. After all, things seemed to be looking rather smooth, maybe...
Then she glimpsed the scene in front of the club and nearly groaned with frustration. There was quite the line of people awaiting entry, and the bouncer at the door looked rather like he wasn't going to let just anyone in anytime soon. For a moment she had the same idea as Gareeku, wondering how in the world they were to get in, or why they were even there. I'm not sitting out in a dress all night if this doesn't work...
But by the time the rest of the group had caught up, Stygian was on the stairs again, giving the not-so-subtle signal that it was time to head inside...much to the chagrin of the people in line, which made her snicker just slightly. As the others started, so too did she, glancing to the white wolf in the process. "Guess it wouldn't be a waste," she smiled, and turned back forward. Ignoring a few curses from the line their way, she entered the atmosphere made nearly completely of light, music, and life.
When Cog entered the foyer, a comparatively sparse though decorated room with counters that lead to wardrobes and facilities on each side, he was approached by a woman dressed in a robe-like vestment, flowing and silky red and cream white, a gazelle whose like had to be hard to find.
'May I take your coat, mister?' she asked in a voice even smoother than the clothes that while full-length only accentuated her slender, shapely form. The quick glance she gave his sword told him just what else was included in the meaning of 'coat'. Stygian walked silently past up to one of the counters, muttering something and taking his guns out, laying them down heavily on the polished stone top. After a raised-eyebrow look from the serval girl behind the counter, he pulled out a knife that looked much too large to be hidden anywhere, smiling as if he had just forgotten it. While the feline rolled her eyes and took Stygian's things, the bat turned and placed his hand on Cog's shoulder to divert the wolf's attention from the attender's more outstanding features. Nodding against the entry to the club hall, he then turned and walked down the stairs, while a bare-topped golden jackal not much less built than the bouncer approached Keaton with a warm smile.
The club which the party entered into was so different from what Mel had lain eyes on before that for a moment it was easy to doubt whether if it had been the same room. But there was no question that it was the Red Sands at its fullest. Hundreds of guests crowded the terraced hall, sitting at tables or in booths along the walls or higher up, on the higher floors. Many were dancing down on the main floor, and some even on the surfaces beneath the artificial waterfalls covered with a thin skin of running water, thin clothes clinging to fur and droplets of water spraying about. Exotic scents both fresh and hot were thick in the air; water and mist, alcohol and perfume, spice and a pervading warm scent like sun-baked stone and sand. The music being played by the live band on its sidestage, actually more of an orchestra, thumped and reverberated throughout the fire- and lamp-lit locale, a sort of modernized rock version of typical Egyptian thematic music with a few pop and dance influences, and even a few complex harmonies thrown in, a wailing guitar replacing the flute as the leading instrument and strings in the background. Everywhere barely clad attenders moved with practiced fluidity and grace among the crowd, each one apparently hand-picked not only for their beauty but also for being of some desert or savanna-dwelling animal species. Already when entering the scene was so powerful that it threatened to overwhelm the senses and mind.
From his vantage point near the top of the stairs, Stygian looked down at the throng and smiled jadedly, taking off his black-lined jacket and throwing it over his shoulder. Not ten seconds had passed before a comely servant, a leopardess, appeared by his side with a tray of clear-hued drinks. 'Mister Donovan', the voluptuous feline said, making a little bow. 'With compliments.' Stygian snatched a drink from the tray and then strolled slowly down the stairs, eying the place deceptively calmly.
Edge casually removed an object from under his suit jacket and set it down on the counter of the "coat" check. The lacquered black wooden scabbard held a blade nearly long enough to be considered a short sword, its hilt bound in intricate patterns of black and gold silk. He winked at the girl and stuffed a large bill into her tip jar before making his way into the club proper. He wore a bright smile as he followed Stygian down the stairs into the throng, his tail swishing in time to the beat of the music.
Only twitching slightly when Stygian touched his shoulder, Cog diverted his attention away from the gazelle and to the bat, nodding in affirmation to the bat's subtle gesture. Turning his attention back away from the Stygian, Cog tipped his hat to the gazelle woman, making a slight bow as he did so.
"I fear my coat is too coarse to be handled by hands so lovely." the wolf said lightly. "But this," he said, indicating his sword with his head, "Grows a bit heavy. You wouldn't mind if I left it here, I suppose?" Cog grinned at the woman, and turned to approach the counter.
He paused for just a moment in front of the counter, leaning his cane against the wall as he used both hands to tie the string attached to the sheath of his blade into a knot, wrapping the cord around the black-lacquered scabbard. He tugged on it, tightening it, and set the blade on the counter horizontally.
The serval girl returned from sequestering Stygian's accouterments, and the wolf paused a moment to regard her. He let his shades slide down his nose just a bit, his eyes narrowed.
"I haven't been apart from that sword for longer than you've been alive." he said softly, meeting her eyes. "Should anything happen to it..." he said, leaving the rest of his sentence unspoken as he glared. He took a single deep breath, and with a final glance at the blade he grabbed his cane and turned, walking off towards the entrance to the club proper.
Despite the deep unease that was starting to gnaw at the back of his mind, Cog found himself stunned by the vista that greeted him inside the club. He stood stock still for a moment, absorbing the sights and the sounds of the place, the smells and the music seeping like a fog into his mind. You could get lost in a place like this, he thought.
The wolf shook his head slowly, turning to find a seat or a table near the entrance to the club. He needed to watch the door.
Watching might be all he could do. The music, the smells...the wolf was fairly overwhelmed. He continued to search for a seat, his cane clacking on the floor.
...Keaton the Black Jackal:The pounding, the pulsing, the beating, the gyrating, the music, the lights, the electricity; all of it was alive, all of it was wild and in her face and
absolutely wonderful. Initially Keaton had envisioned the interior of the Red Sands to be no more than an ostentatious, polished pretense of a raver's ardent fantasies, but once she stepped foot inside of the club and gazed with utmost surprise upon the lurid celebration overflowing the hall all her suspicions simply disappeared, floating away to evanesce in the swarm of heat and steam permeating the air. Simply said, the Red Saids surpassed Keaton's expectations tenfold.
I love this place.Unconsciously, Keaton felt a grin more characteristic of her normal, base form tug at the edge of her lips. Sooner or later she had to return to reality, after all, she still had an elegant composure to maintain. At heart many Cubi were impersonators and actors, and Keaton was no exception to this stereotypical legacy of masquerades, even when her shapeshifting abilities were slightly neglected. Of course, as thorough as her transformation was there was nothing she could do about her prosthetic eye, which remained abnormally blank in comparison to her opposite, vivid hazel iris. In order to allow her to see in color she had to keep her glasses on, although she had given the chain and frame a sleek silver sheen in order to match the rest of her jewelry.
A golden blur hovering at the edge of her peripheral vision caught Keaton's attention as it floated reluctantly down from nirvana. The jackal-turned-Doberman turned around towards the approaching figure, coming face-to-face with the bare-chested individual and his elusively sweet smile. On other occasions Keaton would've laughed aloud at the irony behind the fact that she, a jackal, who was disguised as another canine, was being confronted with another, but fortunately she curbed this instinct.
Probably one with flirtatious intentions. Why else would someone be coming over to her? Ah well. Seeing she couldn't personally rob everyone who looked at her chest's soul, especially not in a public area occupied by hundreds, and which was gradually being filled, she forced a smile which looked, for the most part, surprisingly genuine.
---
...Deirdre Donnachaidh:Under warm orange lights produced by flickering flames and gyrating, hypnotic music flowing seamlessly into the intoxicating air, another one was closely admiring the environment and ambiance of the club from the comfort of their table. Sulphur-hued eyes partially blinded with membranous, immature cataracts struggled to fully absorb all the lights and sounds palpitating in the electrified atmosphere as they flickered occasionally up from the drink that their owner was gradually nursing. Since the declaration of her "lumpy little problem," as the Gryphon had affectionately christened her virulent glioblastoma multiforme, the doctor had advised her not to guzzle any alcoholic beverages. So far her condition was asymptomatic, but it was best to be safe. Thus, the Gryphon was limited to something relatively soothing and which wouldn't result in a drunken daze.
The Gryphon was garbed in traditional apparel--or as traditional as she preferred. Black formal suit and tie--fortunately with an opening in the back to allow her feathery wings to flex freely--with a white button-down shirt and black pants encompassing long legs which were folded informally over one another beneath the table. Gender was kept as ambiguous as always--hell, numerous people within the club had addressed her as
sir--and her manner of preserving such masculinity was notably thorough, although to begin with her figure was androgynous; lanky, gangly, and lacking any curves.
Folding her arms behind her head, the Gryphon leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes contentedly, something which was probably impossible considering the liveliness of the club and the volume of the music. Atmosphere exuded adrenaline. Packed as it was, she was almost distantly reminded of another, grotesque case involving a nightclub which was caught ablaze due to arson, but for once it didn't touch any overprotective, paranoid Adventuring instincts. She wasn't here to defend. She was here to enjoy herself.
Cheers, Deirdre.~Keaton the Black Jackal
A dead man watched the party enter the Red Sands...
He was in an alleyway across the street, that damn otter from before keeping a close eye on him. He'd passed of that vial of something to Laertes as it had started to react, who went off with Ace somewhere. On the plus side, they left Marya back at the apartment. Richard thought. Admittedly, they hinted (not threatened. That was what really got to him. This Laertes guy wasn't honest enough to threaten someone outright) that any attempt at contacting the authorities could end badly for all those concerned. So he sure as hell couldn't expect a rescue. Then again, my little chaperone's bored out of his mind... The undead glanced again at the otter, who kept looking from his charge to the club and back. Richard gave a rattling, mocking laugh.
"Aw, wossa matter? Wanted to go play secret agent in the club with the other two?" There were probably ancient dragons who wished they could sneer that contemptuously, "Pissed that you're sitting here instead of going after the glorified gothic Rorschach blot you people are chasing?"
It wasn't quite enough to disappoint her, but certainly enough to make her blink when the jackal stopped a step from Keaton and made a polite little bow. 'Anything you wish to be relieved of?' he said. She thought she could feel amusement from his direction, probably a reaction that he experienced at all those newcomers overtaken by the club's, intermingled with the excitement and the alertness.
Inside the club, Stygian strolled around, taking a long, appraising and appreciative look at the place. The exquisite if excessive taste and theme was definitely Ashtareth, though the sheer overwhelming aura of the place was something much closer to what Azel or Samuel would go for.
Or I, he thought.
The place is even getting to me
. Stygian let his eyes wander across the stage, studying the scene with something else than just his eyes, as far as he could. The cacophony in the place was almost total. But as garish and lurid as the place seemed, numbing senses in the way that only a full-blown rave like this or a very good concert could, he could neither see nor feel anything odd or suspicious about the place save a certain dim energy to the waiters' and waitresses' and attendants' auras, easily attributed to protective enchantments they must have been wearing. Places like the Red Sands were tight with security like that.
The bat wove through the crowd on the second terrace from what he could sense at his side. But a sudden bump against something caught him off guard and he stopped, head swiveling down and his black eyes searching. Beside him, a ferret woman had been knocked to the side and almost into the loincloth-clad young Adonis carrying a platter of grapes and chocolate behind her, spilling a bit of her drink in the process. He had missed her, probably because of her shortness.
'
I'm sorry, miss,' Stygian said, pinching the folded black silk handkerchief tucked into the breast pocked of his jacket and carefully moving over to her. '
Dreadfully sorry.' His words were a bit hard to hear in the commotion, but the apologetic smile on his face spoke for him. Just for a moment he turned his head around, looking for the others, before he hunched down a bit to look at the woman.
- -
Snorting, Carey crossed his arms over his chest and gave the baboon a derisive look, feeling his teeth with his tongue. 'No, I'm pissed that I get stuck babysitting a stiff while those two go off to do "grown-up stuff". What's it mean to you?' he said, and gave Richard another look. 'If you're thinking I'm about to let you up you're fooling yourself. And I don't know shit about any Rorschach. So unless you have something useful for me, can you please keep what's left of that mouth of yours closed so I don't have to hear it?'
"If they're the ones doing grown up stuff, how come I'M the one who needs babysitting?" Gears turned in Richards head, grinding the information before him into a fine, sifted plan... "Some random undead who was dragged along with that lot, who doesn't know shit about what they're doing or where they're headed?" He laughed again harshly, louder this time. "Don't you get it? For @#$%'s sake you little idiot, I'M the one babysitting! The only reason they'd pick me up is to keep YOU from getting underfoot! Think about it," The zombie leaned forward, sunken eyes staring hard into Carey's, "The most use I was to that pack of lunatics was as a damn driver and, as you can see, not a perminent one. I'm guessing Ace and Laertes' little party also needed a temp," He laughed this time, softer, "But then the temp wouldn't go away. So how do you keep some untrained little twit you didn't need or account for from lousing up your scheme? You make up something far away from anything that might be important," Richard leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, "'Mommy and Daddy have to go to work, Carey. So do Mommy a favor and make sure the funny man doesn't go anywhere. You be a big boy while we're out and do that for me.' Really, kid, the parallels are pretty damn obvious."
Walking through the club in somewhat a daze, Cog found himself wandering up to a bar set a little distance from one of the waterfall-glazed dancing floors, the mist from the falling water just barely palpable from the barstool seats. The roar of the water kept the music -just- somewhat at bay, and the seats offered a good position to watch the door over the barkeep's shoulder. Taking a seat on one of the vinyl chairs, the wolf waved a bit to catch the bartender's attention as he got ready for a long night of watching, and probably a bit of terror.
The sound of the water wasn't so much to make speaking difficult, and as the wolf opened his mouth, he saw the words 'FULL SERVICE KITCHEN' written in script on a board tucked just in range of sight along one of the shelves behind the counter. Cog stopped for a moment, thinking, and then grinned, looking at the barkeep sardonically before speaking.
"Six cubes of crushed ice, one-half shot of triple sec, shot of brandy, a shot of cherry herring, a half-shot of sour mix, a third shot of grenadine, three slices of orange and six ounces of champagne in a highball glass and a basket of fries covered in gravy and cheese....if you please." the wolf said, drawing out the last bit and giving the barkeep a slightly amused expression while he kept one eye on the door.
* * *
There was nothing wrong with a good time, every now and again. Taking a slow drink of deep, red wine out of an almost bulbous wine glass, the the red-robed black Jackal took a slow look across the crowd from the second-floor balcony. The energy of the place was almost palpable, and although he disapproved of...several of the club's tendencies, he couldn't deny the invigorating feeling brought on by the atmosphere. A little excitement every now and then, certainly nothing wrong with -that-...
Laertes sighed, feeling the odd rush that always came before these sorts of things, and letting his strangely blank, violet-glowing eyes settle on a Doberman coming through the entrance to the club.
At least, she wanted someone to think she was a Doberman.
The succubus was giving a languid grin to another Jackal, the being obviously unaware of the other's true species. Odd, in some ways. Two Jackals - one a black-backed one, a rather rare sight. Especially after...well. The black Jackal finished the rest of his wine down, savoring it slowly, and set the empty glass down on the wooden edge of the balcony as he made for the stairs, his curiosity piqued.
Taking just a few moments, the Jackal descended the stairs gracefully and navigated to the front of the club, avoiding dancing patrons and waiters alike with equal ease. He reached the front in short order. He coughed, and tapped on the Jackal-pretending-to-be-a-Doberman's shoulder.
"I don't know why, madam, but I feel like I've seen you before." Laertes said politely, making a small bow. He turned to the other Jackal, tilting his head. "I do think the lady is fine, Chaimaki." he said, turning his head back to the succubus.
"Have we met?"
As Aisha entered the club, she followed along with the others, and nearly bypassed them when they were stopped at the foyer and asked for things to hold like weapons and coats. She hung around, however, observing the mannerisms. Colorful appearances, she noticed of the workers, clad in festive garments and friendly gestures toward their guests.
Outside of her range of vision, but well within hearing, she could hear the music beating across the walls and through doors. It was like the building itself had a pulse; the party, its heart. At least nobody seemed to bother herself or Gareeku...their weapons left elsewhere, they were more than prepared to go on ahead...he with his suit and she with her dress. Still, just out of courtesy, Aisha waited for the others before entering the heart of the club.
And what a sight it was. It wasn't the music that she had to get used to more than the appearance and feel of the grandiose place. Not much wonder why there are people still in line, she thought with a smirk and eyed the scene. It was bigger than she expected, as was everything in the city. Already, the group was overwhelmed by the atmosphere, the outside disappearing behind them while entering into a vivid, alive world rippling with dancing and a mix of peculiar scents.
Lively and impressive as it was, Aisha suddenly felt more comfortable staying somewhere within eyeshot of the exit, though she watched some of the others fan out at their leisure. How long will THIS festivity last...?
The small woman glared up at Stygian, plainly annoyed, although she made no move to stop him dabbing at the wine stain splashed on the shoulder of her dress. Her appearance was... odd to Stygian's eyes: like, but not quite like a ferret, although her scent was about right and definitely female. Short and thin, with vivid chestnut brown fur, a bright white blaze running down from her muzzle and throat before vanishing down the neckline of her green silk dress. Even her tail wasn't quite right for a ferret, longer and bushier with a black tip. The woman wore some jewellery, mostly silver: a brooch on her dress with a large inset amethyst, a few bar clips around the edges of her ears, and bracelets, all intricately engraved. She seemed to have no actual hair on her head, just a thicker growth of slightly darker fur. Large purple eyes reflected the flickering light in the hall. Her expression shifted suddenly to a mischievous grin, her sharp fangs gleaming briefly.
"No harm done, my good sir," she said, her voice high-pitched and quick, with an odd accent, "although I have had more original introductions. Kerya is my name, perhaps we may meet again later tonight...?" Her dress now as dry as a quick mop-up could manage, Kerya winked up at Stygian and, before he could reply, she turned towards the row of booths lining the wall of the huge room. Before he lost her in the crowd, Stygian thought he saw something surrounding the woman, almost like a barely visible heat haze. Or perhaps the flickering lights were fooling his eyes.
...Keaton:
Much to Keaton's eternal relief, the golden jackal wasn't present to flirt with her. In fact, far from it--according to the polite gesture he made and his words, he was merely an attendant there to take her coat. Expertly concealing her ephemeral gratitude, Keaton was just about to open her mouth to tell him that she, "regretfully," did not need any assistance, but simultaneous to the moment the first syllable left her mouth she heard someone else speak.
Tapered ears swiveled upright as Keaton's head pivoted towards the sable-furred jackal standing nearby, her expression nearly contorting as that familiar amusement played at her when, for the second time, irony struck at her. Apparently jackals were more frequent outside of her clan than she had imagined.
But this... this was just a bizarre one. While her group had arrived dressed formally, he was robed in sanguine, and his eyes were almost glass-like, empty and vacant, made lively only by the strangely ethereal purple glaze which flickered over them. Was she the only one who noticed that? Or--
In a flash, Keaton recalled the description Xianxi had given her of one of those who were interrogating Richard.
A black jackal.
Fuck.
Keaton was able to keep the anxiety from her face, still retaining that look of serene grace uncharacteristic of her real demeanor. If this was the jackal who was with Richard, she needed some confirmation first.
"...I'm afraid not," Keaton said, using a voice drastically unlike her own. Husky, almost smoky, yet accentuating the limber frame and stature of her Doberman disguise. "I could be wrong, though. May I ask what your name is?"
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Standing straight again, Stygian blinked and then looked after the little woman as she walked off, confident and remarkable in a way that put all height aside. His hands folding his kerchief together and tucking it back on their own, the bat made a little dark leer. An aura of some sort hinted after her, even through the two people who passed behind her before she vanished into the throng.
Don't get your hopes up, he thought sarcastically to himself.
But it would be a pleasure. Biting his lip slightly with a fang, he turned, and seated himself at a table in wait for the others.
The band ended the finale stylishly with a variant chorus and then four quick riffs from the bass guitar. The silence lasted only an instant, before applause broke out and the musicians standing bowed quickly. The lead guitarist then played a quick few notes, and then leaned forward to the microphone.
'
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to our little event,' the leopard said with a smirk, his voice echoing throughout the locale. '
We hope you've enjoyed these humble beguilements.' Another cheer from a few in the crowd. '
And now we'd like to present you with a little special we've saved for tonight.'
A pretty antelope waitress appeared not half a minute after Stygian had seated himself, and he quickly ordered a Satan's Whiskers. When he stuck a bill in the rim of her sparse garb and nipped her bottom with his claws she only giggled and skipped a little, giving him a coy look and then vanishing quickly into the crowd.
So they know how to behave even, he thought, still smirking.
Kerya left the bat behind, the strangely dark-eyed man looking slyly after her. Had it not been for his species and that white suit one could have taken him for one of the attenders. She had only to enter the booth at the wall before one of the serf-like waiters, a boyishly pretty and trim desert hare approached her and bowed slightly, hands behind his back. 'Good evening, miss. Will you have something?' he asked carefully.
'
Tonight we have the pleasure of introducing to you,' the guitarist and speaker continued, '
the woman who we all have to thank for this relief from the dark and the cold boredom. She took the hand of the City Council and the arm along with it. Let's give it up for the midnight mistress, the goddess of the Red Sands...' He struck an arm out toward the center stage. '
Sekhmet!'
Darkness fell over the club. And then the slow, alluring and complex tune of a reed flute rose in the background as a warm, dim light spread along the stage...
- -
The otter whipped his head around and opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to say something but just couldn't come up with the words. Then he sighed.
'Fine. So? What with it?' he hissed at Richard. 'I can take you in there, but if you think I'm letting up watch over you...' He put two fingers into a pocket and then pulled out a handcuff. 'And if you think of doing anything strange, then just watch. Just 'cuz you can't feel anything doesn't mean that losing a part of that rotting body won't be a bad thing.' He grabbed one of the baboon's hands and slapped the cuff on his wrist.
"Laertes." the Jackal said kindly, giving the 'Doberman' a warm smile as he made a slight bow. He kept his eyes locked with the succubus's own, the violet light fading from his orbs as they turned a vibrant silver, losing the dead, flat look they had before. He gave her a friendly look as the music starting coming to a crescendo, tilting his head somewhat.
"And your name is...?" he said politely as he stepped aside, giving the Jackal succubus a bit of space.
Red lights descended upon the stage, and turning his head, Laertes's face darkened for just a moment as he viewed the stage. There was something...unnerving, about the Jackal's displeasure. The look disappeared almost as quickly as it came, the Jackal turning and giving Keaton a surprisingly genuine smile.
"I'm not quite certain, miss, but you seemed almost a bit different from up on the balcony. Perhaps I have mistaken you for someone else." he said, only the must subtle hint of knowledge at the back of that statement. "Still, I can't shake the feeling that I've seen you somewhere before. Perhaps," the Jackal paused, tilting his head, "You have an apartment in the city? I just recently took up residence here myself..." The Jackal trailed off, looking at the succubus appraisingly.
...Keaton:
"Laertes."
Ah fuck. Well that just cemented it. At this point Keaton was finding it increasingly difficult to hide her anxiety, composure be damned, especially as she frantically tried to recall where Stygian or any other capable fighter had went. Considering Stygian seemed rather familiar with Laertes, informing him first would probably be paramount. Unconsciously, Keaton grated her heel against the floor, relieving what pent-up stress her body contained through that singular motion.
Oh wait. He was asking her name. Shitshitshit, what was her pseudonym again? Thankfully, Keaton was able to recover that memory in almost a split second of uncertainty, in which she immediately responded, "Cassandra."
She assumed it was an appropriate name.
Out of the corner of her eyes, a flash of red lights had illuminated the nearby stage, casting about it like a sanguine halo. Averting her eyes, Keaton stared with artificial fascination at the opening presented on the stage, praying that it would thoroughly distract the other jackal, but upon noticing the unpleasant metamorphosis in his expression these hopes were soon dashed. When she thought it couldn't get any worse, it got worse. He was dropping hints about her eavesdropping on his conversation with Richard. He knew. He absolutely knew. Why else would he be talking about this?
"I..." Keaton reached up, fidgeting with a ringlet of hair. "No, I'm from out of town. I'm just visiting. Can you... excuse me for a moment?"
She gave no excuses. Right now she couldn't come up with an alibi. She just wanted to get the fuck to Stygian and tell him.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya turned to face the waiter, indicating her nearly empty glass. "Another glass of wine, please." She raised the glass to her muzzle and lapped quickly at what was left after her collision with the tall bat. The other occupant of the booth, a white-furred rabbit with fashionably styled short blonde hair and wearing a black skirt and red blouse that seemed too plain and businesslike for the club's usual customers, looked curiously at Kerya and raised one eyebrow.
"So," she asked in a low, husky voice, "did it work to your satisfaction?"
Kerya finished the last of the wine, smiled and nodded. "It did indeed, m'lady Crys. We have a deal, then, as soon as we agree on exactly what each of us may wish to trade." She held up one hand, as if inspecting her claw polish, and performed what seemed to be a one-handed cat's cradle. Faint sparks of light danced among her clawtips, and she made a little hmph of satisfaction. "Much as I enjoy the novelties of this place, I —"
Suddenly the lights faded away to near total darkness. Kerya had been half-listening to the music since she arrived, swishing her tail to the beat at the parts she'd liked, and had barely noticed one of the musicians making an announcement. "Later..." she murmured to the rabbit as a thin, breathy whistling started up again and the lights slowly brightened on the stage. It seemed some special event was about to begin.
Ignoring the remarks coming from the crowd as they moved to enter the club, Gareeku did not bother to look at anyone else, merely looking straight ahead as they entered, not appreciating the look that Stygian had given him. Once inside, the noise and atmosphere immediately hit the wolf. However, he was swift to put that impact to the side. Looking around, the wolf observed the club from his position, watching the others fan out around the club.
"I need a drink."
"Of course. Cassandra." The Jackal said, giving the succubus yet another warm smile. He made a small bow, turning from the hidden Jackal and walking away slowly - although his expression still seemed warm, his eyes glinted with an almost amusement.
He declined another glass of wine from a passing steward, no longer walking towards the balcony, but headed for a small alcove in the back, beneath one of the waterfalls. Completely at ease, it took him but a moment to navigate through the crowd.
As he turned to walk along the pathway that ran to the sides of the pouring water, he turned in a seemingly arbitrary direction, giving a warm smile and a bow to no one who was immediately apparent before he turned and disappeared beneath the falling water.
* * *
Cog took a absent sip from his drink, his eyes narrow and dark beneath his shades. He was looking over the shoulder of the bartender, only absently nibbing at his food - the bartender was giving him another one of those sour looks, shaking his head at what seemed to be a heart attack in a basket, but Cog paid him little mind. The wolf's focus was on the front of the room.
Right there, just outside of the entry hall. That bastard. Cog's eyes fairly smoked, and the wolf twitched as his hand grabbed at empty air where his sword used to be. By force of will, the wolf set his hand back up on the table, although his eye kept dodging back to the cane leaning against the bar's counter. He ground his teeth, and took another sip of his drink, watching Laertes and Keaton speak.
Cog's ear twitched. The Jackal had said something - Keaton's face was composed, but the succubus was becoming increasingly agitated, grinding her foot against the floor and playing with her hair. The red-robed Jackal seemed to have gotten what he wanted, and making a small bow walked away, heading for one of the waterfalls. Cog kept his eye on him.
As the Jackal reached the waterfall, however, he turned and stared straight at the wolf, smiling and making a small bow at Cog before disappearing into the water. Cog snarled, almost standing up before he caught the bartender looking warily at him, and sat back down. He pushed his drink away, turning and sliding off the barstool and grabbing his cane.
"Sorry. I'm a mean drunk, and I can't hold my liquor." the wolf said, leaving the bar and looking for the bat.
This needed to end quickly.
The fluid and dim light of torches lit up the center stage, shadows moving at its back. And then, calmly and gracefully as the feline she was and more, a lioness strode out from them. The music slowly rose, as langorously and seductively as she moved, that single flute climbing and swaying as she slid into the light.
She was gorgeous, yet in an almost intimidating way, a slender but well-muscled shape only barely hidden behind sleek silk and decorate gold jewelry. Tall and strong yet impossibly graceful, she exhuded beauty and power to such a degree that it sent a shiver up the spine of all those present. The only ones who carried on without looking toward the stage were the attendants, using this moment of lessened attention to slip away and take care of smaller things. Stygian seemed the only one who didn't just stare. His face instead was one of contempt.
You bitch, he thought.
The lioness sauntered up to the microphone, grasped it like one would a lover before kissing, and began to sing in a murky, luscious voice with trembling microtones.
'It's cold outside... and it gets to you... The empty, lonely chill it draws you out and seeps right through and through...' Her voice was almost hypnotic, as powerful and seductive as her looks. 'But let me warm you, poor stranger, let me take you in... 'Cause there is warmth for you near, a fire glowing here! A temptation within reach, a sensation so dear, all here within my palace of sin...!'
The guitar wailed along with her voice as the intro ended, and then came the beat and the riffs, hard and strong but dancing. Dancers slowly moved out behind the lioness, taking position along the stage and equally slowly beginning their routine.
'Kindle the flame baby, watch as it consumes. Throw away your worries, let them burn to dust! Open up your senses, take a deep breath from the fumes, let doubts and fears be overcome by lust...!' she sang, swaying with the beat as the dancers swung and stepped in tune.
Stygian listened to the music, tapping his foot slightly, though his expression remained unimpressed. Why do you do this, you bitch? he thought. There has to be a reason.
Richard couldn't help but chuckle a little at the singer as he sat at his table toward the edge of the room. As promised, Carey had brought him inside and as promised, Richard hadn't done anything strange. Seeing as the attendants had just waved the two of them on in, taking the handcuffs in stride (Feh, probably got that all the time. Weirdos.), he figured he'd gotten the better end of the arrangement. He simply sat and tried to see if he recognized anyone through the throngs of people. Over to his left was some Gryphon, effeminine looking sorta guy dressed to stand out in this crowd (that is to say, fully clothed) and to his right was Carey. Richard simply say and observed, ignoring nothing but the handcuffs on his wrist under the table.
The little arctic fox delicately picked her way through the crowd to the bar. Ordering a drink she admired both the help at the bar and the effortless efficiency of the way in which each customer was attended to by staff of appropriate gender. She appreciated the effort as the bartender turned to reach for something. Nice set of back muscles for a non-winged creature.
Drink in hand she wandered to a spot where the fine spray from one of the waterfalls cooled the area, uncaring of the effect on her white dress. While the feeling of desert heat was in large part psychological it still had a depressing effect on a creature of glacial fields. She tried to pick out the location of the other members of the group while admiring the beautiful people. The entrance of the singer riveted all attention in that direction, making the odd movement in other directions easier to pick out.
Cogidubnus stood still amongst the dancing, thronging crowd a moment, lost.
The sudden presence of Sehkmet on stage seemed to have invigorated the club, everyone there either watching in awe or dancing in some way to the lioness's sultry voice and seductive movements. Cog glanced at the stage for a moment, his shades reflecting the dancing feline, his face seemingly expressionless. He looked down a moment later and around the crowd, searching for the bat.
He took a moment to find the entrance, and tried to remember where the bat had walked off to. A moment later he caught sight of him, sitting by himself in a booth off to the side, and looking rather nonplussed. Cog navigated through the crowd quickly, ignoring the lilting sound of the lioness's voice and the wailing of the electric guitar behind it. A few moments later he reached the bat's table and slid into a seat, not saying anything for a moment before looking over at Stygian.
"This needs to end quickly." the wolf said, catching the bat's eyes. His face was dark. "Laertes knows we're here. He's already found Keaton."
...Keaton:The instant she was granted permission, Keaton whipped away from Laertes and trudged rapidly away from the jackal, attempting to mask the panic in her formerly graceful and willowy posture. Undermining this seemed to be the clockwork tattoo of her heels against the floor, each drumming
tap,
click, or
tick emphasizing her urgency to escape. Soon, as the lights further dimmed and all sources swiveled in concentrated columns toward the stage, torches igniting in sulfuric stems and fires billowing and blazing, she seemed to vanish under the cloak of darkness. The dark coloration of her dress and fur only aided this chameleon-conversion, combined with how deliberately she swerved away from the punctuated shiftings of incendiary light.
Up on stage was a powerful-looking lioness, simply gorgeous and only accentuated by the extravagant golden jewelry and ornaments festooning her muscular, mighty body. Her voice was entrancing and strong, but Keaton remained distanced despite the chills creeping up her spine, eyes still skimming over the various patrons seated at their tables from behind her bizarrely-shaped glasses. Gaze swept towards the golden-white blur sitting nearby, accompanied by another familiar shape--that of Cogidubnus, she presumed. Picking up her pace, she headed over, stopping beside the two.
"Styg!" she snarled, dropping her fake voice. "Laertes is here. I think he recognizes me. He keeps dropping hints about the apartment, and--gah! He knows it's me."
---
...Deirdre:Unsurprisingly, even Deirdre was among those captivated by the dancing lioness's performance, her fingers knitted like a steeple beneath her rigid, bristled chin, ears perked and tilted forward to listen to the music radiating from the stage. Having a deep appreciation for music and possessing a singing voice herself, Deirdre was more than enraptured with the display, not to mention the stature of the singer as well. Some of her beauty was garbled by the cataracts, reducing some of her features to indistinct blurs, but from what she could tell, she was breathtaking.
This is more than worth the bull I had to go through to come here, she thought, humming slightly under her breath.
To her side, she noticed a few other figures entering. An Undead and two other odd fellows, it seemed. Ah well. Considering... well, how she was, Deirdre sure as hell wasn't going to judg--wait, what was that on his wrist? Her eyes narrowed for a moment, struggling to make out the silvery length she saw hooking their wrists together. Were those... handcuffs?
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"Who's Laertes, anyway?"
Edge appeared at the booth carrying a goblet of red wine in one hand and a bowl of cashew nuts in the other. He set the latter on the table and slid into one of the seats. He cocked his head and eyed Cog and Keaton curiously, but his attention eventually drifted away to the figure on stage.
"Entrancing even without her powers..." The dark jaguar took a sip of his wine. "I have to say, she's much better looking as a chick."
As he watched the lioness's performance, his gaze became distant... unfocused. Behind him, his tail continued its rhyrthmic oscillation in time to her song.
+ + +
A black fox emerged from behind a column. In a satin-sheened blue suit that matched his eyes, he was dressed to kill. Or at least, to hunt. He prowled through the jungle of music and light amid throngs of well-dressed wildlife. An unexpectedly familiar figure at a side table caught his attention. He weaved through the crowd of dancers and slinked off to the edge of the club to come up behind his target.
"So you showed up after all. And it's not even jazz night!"
The fox was almost leaning over Richard's shoulder so as to be heard over the music. He waved an attendent over and then helped himself to an empty seat at the table before anyone had a chance to reply. It didn't escape his notice that the baboon and the otter were "holding hands" under the table. He grinned.
"I'm not... uh... interrupting anything, am I? I'll buy a round, and you can introduce me to your friend."
"Oh hey, fancy seeing you again," Richard replied cheerfully (tip off the first that there was something wrong), "Nah, not interrupting anything. Now pay attention Carey, this is the better class of company to fall in with. The kind that you can get free drinks out of," the undead chuckled and drummed his fingers on the table, "So, what brings you to a dive like this? After all, you get some disreputable folks in places where the staff dresses like this. Thugs, adventurers, monsters, mafiosos... Undesirables of all sorts. So what's up?"
From the first words sung, Kerya was entranced. She sat there staring wide-eyed at the lioness, barely moving. The rabbit looked curiously across the table at her, but after a minute or so it was clear the little stoat was completely enthralled — whatever hold the singer had on most of the people in the hall, the effect was much more extreme on Kerya. The rabbit snorted in annoyance and glared at the lioness for most of the song, then her expression grew more calculating and thoughtful. As the song ended she looked sideways at Kerya. The smile twisting her muzzle now had a sinister cast. In the dim lighting of the booth, far from the brightly lit stage, the rabbit's eyes began to glow softly.
For a while, Aisha took on an easy role as a wallflower amidst the crowded party, virtually unseen while people passed her without much of a glance. Any glance that she did get would perhaps have been quickly discouraged by a distant, distracted look on her face...narrowed red eyes frequently catching the light against black fur, expression seemingly dour and uninterested at the atmosphere and the goings-on. Were this nothing more than a party, the panthress would have probably joined in the festivities. Already a couple of her friends had chosen to make a beeline for the bar.
She wasn't completely out of the party's influence, however. After a moment, she lost focus on trying to keep an eye on her friends and dazed out somewhat, just trying to make herself relax and blend in while listening to the music...after all, being quiet and insociable in this place was probably enough of a grounds for suspect. Her tail swished in time with the melody, and one foot tapped on the floor, while her eyes wandered over the crowd and the club's workers...all festive and tuned to liven up the already heated feel of the air.
Aisha smoothed out her dress and had decided to meander into the dance floor to loosen up, when suddenly the main event was introduced and all eyes turned to the lioness on the stage. She listened curiously to the announcer, then to her singing, as everyone seemed to be entranced by her. Would that be the one then? Hm, I wonder if I can count down the seconds before this chapter closes.
The hunter shook her head dismissively and practiced a few dance steps of her own; somewhere a little more away from larger throngs of people and back into her own mentality as per her practice. She hadn't practiced dancing for quite a while, it could be seen, but only temporarily. The panthress was quite graceful when she tried...as agile and fleet of foot as if she were sneaking, and as accurate to the music as she was to aiming at a target.
After the second verse the lioness fell into another chorus, and the music rose in intensity, taking on even more hard rock-like qualities.
'
The sand glows red in the dark, in the night, the fire draws you out...!'
Stygian snorted and had another swig of his own drink. '
Someone who's after me. What else did you expect?' he said, part gruffly part unconcernedly. '
I'm counting on him to mess this meeting up for me so we can get out earlier. If only that old crone hadn't decided to put on a show!' He hissed the last words, and it was plain to see who he was talking about.
The lioness got past the bridge and into the finishing chorus, beginning to move along with the dancers as the music rose for the crescendo, before Stygian kicked back and got out of his seat, putting his hands in his pockets and turning.
'
Let's go, Keaton,' he said. '
I've had just about enough of this.' Then suddenly he stopped, and blinked. His head swiveled away from the direction of the dance floor where Aisha was moving better and better, to the other end of the second terrace.
'
Ah, shit,' he said, quite unexplanatorily. Then he started off in the exact direction of the otter, fox and baboon.
- -
When Edge, or what must have been one of his copies, as if it really mattered, entered the conversation, Carey glared up and almost hissed at him. He settled himself quickly though, listening to Richard's words and then making a discontented little sound.
The problem for Edge though, was the difficulty of pulling of his casual little pretension act. For while he could remain shapeshifted inside the building, it was as if something was putting pressure on him while he did, making it much harder than it should have been to simply try and assume another form. And the extra magical component he was using to manifest and control the extension of his 'clone' was already under too much strain. He wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.
Suddenly, as if having appeared by the same eye-defying means as the fox, a slender but statesteque zebra was beside them. Strangely, though he were as picture perfect and sparsely clad as all the other attenders, he was not smiling or seemingly content. Rather, he looked somewhat serious and grim.
'Is everything to your liking, gentlemen?' he said, giving the fox a sideways glance. It might have been a trick of the fiery light, but for a moment there seemed to be a hint of a glow to the equine's eyes.
...Keaton:In the background, Keaton could hear the spellbinding swelling and oscillating of the music, the heady air almost swaying along with the lioness singer's hypnotic movements. The audience was thoroughly captivated by the performance, probably to the point they didn't recognize nor concern themselves with the possibly suspicious gathering of people--one which was added to by who she assumed was an also-disguised Edge's arrival. Shapeshifting. Was there nothing it couldn't accomplish?
Well, since she had apparently been exposed by Laertes, there
was, but that was beside the point.
Something Stygian said hit a chord with Keaton, however. The jackal-turned-Doberman arched an eyebrow in that skeptical manner commonly characterized with her standard form. "Old crone? Wait, are you saying that lady over there" - she jerked her thumb toward the crooning lioness - "is actually an ol--"
Before she could continue Stygian was already up and walking away, commanding for her to follow. Keaton cursed ungracefully under her breath and strutted after him, skidding to a halt when he unexpectedly froze in his tracks. He was staring over at Aisha. Cursing again, with a slight increase of volume, Keaton began to pursue him.
---
...Deirdre:No longer bewitched with the lioness's demonstration, Deirdre leaned casually in her seat and toyed with one of the feathers of her wing's plumage, keeping an ear quizzically quirked in the direction of the baboon Undead (who was now talking rather enthusiastically in response to the black-furred, golden-haired fellow who had joined them). Deirdre was an Adventurer in the past. Not a particularly belligerent one, but an Adventurer nonetheless, and she was far from stupid. She understood when something was amiss. Almost a sixth sense, if you will.
The Gryphon blinked again, then her gaze snapped back to watch the monochromatic figure approaching them. A zebra, working for this establishment, appropriately clad, though with an uncharacteristically grim countenance about him, walked past her and towards the table. Walking somewhere behind him were three other figures, blurred by her cataracts, but distinguishable by color--one shape a very pale creamy white, another gray, the third outline black but crowned with blond, and a sleek black frame splotched with a subtle dab of white on his or her hip.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
'An old hag, yes. Old as this city twice over and more,' Stygian replied, pacing forth quickly and decisively, weaving through the still dazzled people. The music ended with a stylish, exquisite and trembling finish, the lioness holding out a single note wailing and then letting it fall along with the guitar. When she stopped, there was a moment's silence, and then a riot of applause and whistling from the crowd, people toasting and cheering. She made a deep, cleavage-dominated bow and then blew a kiss and winked to the audience, and then swayed out back together with the dancers.
Stygian stopped up by the table next to Edge and Richard, and when Carey looked up the otter almost jumped out of his seat. The bat glanced down at him disregardfully as if to say 'yes, there you are, did you think I didn't know?' for just one second and then looked to Richard.
'What are you doing here? I thought you wanted nothing more to do with us,' he said, slightly irritatedly.
"I don't, but you know how this sort of business can be," Richard replied, applauding with his hands as close to fully visible as Carey would let them be, "Just keeps dragging you back in. Believe me, there's few other reasons I'd be caught in this sorta club," Judging by Carey's reaction, there was no longer any point in trying to be subtle or hide behind misleading small talk, "Hey, you know the singer? Don't think I've seen her around before, she's got talent."
Kerya was still spellbound as the lioness built her song up to a climax: she had barely twitched an ear or a whisker for several minutes, and at times seemed to be barely breathing. The only thing existing in her universe seemed to be the lioness, Sekhmet. The rabbit looked around at the nearby tables in a shifty-eyed manner. No-one was looking at them, and none of the delightfully-nearly-dressed attendants were approaching their booth.
She scooted around the table to sit beside Kerya, lay one hand on her head and quietly muttered a few words. A tentacle, its smooth skin coloured a buttery yellow, rose from somewhere behind the two women and gently stroked the side of Kerya's muzzle. The rabbit blinked and looked from the diminutive stoat at her side to the statuesque lioness down on the stage as she made her flamboyant exit. She made a noise that, if it could have been heard above the sudden thunderous cheering of the audience, would have been an incredibly dirty laugh.
As the applause died back down, the rabbit returned to the other side of the table, her eyes no longer glowing, with a very satisfied smile on her face. Kerya slowly turned, stiffly, as if her rigid body were a lodestone shifting to a new north. Her fascinated gaze found the rabbit and stopped.
Deep in Kerya's mind, sentience returned. Ow. Head hurts. What...? That lioness, she started singing, what did she DO? Why is Lady Crys just sitting there smiling? I can't move! I don't like the way she's smiling at me... oh scat, I think I've fallen in it up to my neck again...
...Keaton:As Keaton struggled to keep up with Stygian while at the same time composing her countenance so to not look suspicious, she repeatedly and internally cursed every little cumbersome circumstance or inconvenience which hindered her. She cursed how voluminous her dress was, she cursed how fast Stygian was moving, she cursed Laertes for exposing her, and most of all she cursed the fact she was wearing
high heels of all fucking things, all while liberally illustrating her love affair with the long-reviled "F" word.
All things considered, she didn't think it would be a concern about observing the appearances of those they were bypassing, especially since their targets were, in fact, Richard and those imprisoning him. A black fox nigh-identical to the one they had been conversing with had languidly begun to speak to him, making Keaton twitch. What did Edge think he was
doing? This could compromise the--
In the midst of that irritable, infuriated tangent, Keaton had allowed her gaze to wander deliberately off to the side, towards Deirdre's table, where the Gryphon herself was watching with a wary and skeptical expression. Instantly, Keaton's mind pieced together the defining characteristics: androgynous figure, an amalgamation of goldenrod-ginger-tabby patterning and colors to her pelt, wrapped in formal clothing intended for men and crowned with a scruffy, windswept style equally masculine. She could see the pricklings of facial hair around Deirdre's chin, but it seemed to be fake...
No doubt about it. It was Deirdre Donnachaidh.
Fucking
hell.--
...Deirdre:Deirdre had watched the ongoing exchange between the unexpected newcomers who had recently arrived at the table, each individual shape she had mentally described and categorized by color before now revealed, although slightly blurred. One was a tall chiropteran with alabaster fur tinged with slight accentuations of gold, another a gray wolf garbed in black, and the third a slender and curvaceous Doberman who was looking at her with what she believed to be stunned disbelief.
Deirdre was more than used to staring, but in this manner? It just unnerved her. Not to mention it was just plain rude. Fidgeting with her chair, Deirdre craned her body around, then looked, deadpan, at her scrutinizer. "I'm sorry, but can I help you?" she asked in a husky voice surprisingly feminine for her ambiguous gender.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Mel kept her place by the waterfall. There were fewer people there since not many cared for the fine spray of water and the noise of the falls limited enjoyment of music or conversation. The disguised dragon cared about neither. The spray kept her cool and she didn't need to hear to keep track of her companions. She might not have the hearing or sense of smell that others did, but like any high flying creatures dragons could see fine detail over long distances. Too bad the interesting gathering at the table had not had the courtesy to arrange themselves for her lip reading convenience. The body language didn't look too alarming as yet, though. Just then one of the servers got between her and the group, breaking her concentration. They were really starting to give Mel a creepy feeling. Their consistent perfection was not normal.
Stygian closed his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. It was one of those situations where it was just a waste of time trying to explain anything. 'Yes. No. Yes,' he said, not mentioning what he was referring to. Then he sniffed, and turned his head toward Keaton, who was standing and staring at a gryphon at another table. His gaze swept over the figure, and he quirked an eyebrow, before sighing as he realized that it was yet another thing that would be wasted time regarding.
The bat let his left arm fall and put his other palm against his forehead in a gesture of hopelessness. Then he drew his fingers back through his long hair and let his hand rest on his neck. 'Keaton, take care of this, will you? I'll go see if the side entry is open. Follow me when you're done...' he said dispiritedly, and then simply walked off against the side of the club hall, leaving the others to straighten things out.
The end of the show had set the band to playing some lower key music in the background and made the rest of the club come alive again, with patrons all ordering new drinks or things to eat at once, and Stygian had to go slow as he passed between all the attenders, tables, tall-legged chairs and people. It's a club, he thought, idly snatching a drink from a platter and placing a large bill on it. A very good club even. Maybe there will be some fun in before you have to do the inevitable and see her? He made a jaded smile and snorted as he strolled in behind the columns holding up the balconies of the floors above, walking along the booths set against the wall. Yeah. Sure, why not?
Caught up in his moody thoughts, Stygian almost missed the ferret-like girl from before when he passed the booth where she was sitting with a lapine of some kind. Stopping just past the next booth, he caught himself and wondered. Had there been something going on there? Faint as instincts could be, his were fine-tuned, and mostly he grasped the moments when instinct was all one had to lead oneself. Or he was just lucky. Either way, something told him to stop and investigate.
Calmly, as if he had meant to all along, Stygian turned, and sipping his drink sat down in the booth next to where the stoat and rabbit were, his back right to them. The other occupant of the booth, a plump lynx girl, looked up at him with irritation. 'That seat wa-' she began.
Stygian's dark eyes met the feline's, and for a heartbeat the world stood still. Her voice faded mid-sentence, and with an unsteady look she returned to her own drink while looking anywhere else but at the bat, who calmly turned his head and attention in the direction of the two women behind him, listening in on them and sensing them through the commotion of the club.
The dark jaguar popped a cashew nut into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Stygian and Keaton had left him back with the only other member of the group to have seen him fight. They weren't trying to kill each other at the moment, at least. He leaned back, absentmindedly swirling his wine around in the glass.
"You sound like you have personal experience with this Laertes character." He looked up at Cog, finally breaking the silence. "I've seen enough of the bat's abilities to know that even those who don't worry
him may still present challenges to his... uh... entourage."
He reached for another cashew.
+ + +
"I came here for her, of course. Tonight's main attraction." The fox gestured towards the voluptuous figure making her way off stage. He leaned forward. "I've worked for her in the past, but I'd like to think that a night in a club like this won't be wasted on business."
The zebra momentarily out of mind, the vulpine Edge quietly observed the odd interaction between Keaton and the Gryphon while Carey's discomfort grew. Even with Stygian gone, the tension around the table remained thick enough to cut with a knife. Delicious. But not very productive.
He clapped his hands together.
"I'm sure all our problems will look better after a few drinks. What's everyone having?" He looked around the table, smiling, and then glanced up at the statuesque attendant looming behind him. "I'm buying."
...Keaton and Deirdre:In response to the Gryphon's skeptically queried question, Keaton quickly felt her inflated tension pop, aloof facade dissolving along with that penultimate burst. Any instantaneous or misguided efforts to conjure up a plot or an excuse faded, perhaps to make way for the equally clumsy attempt for her to forge an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't" - Keaton struggled to find the words, trying not to sound as suspicious as she likely did - "mean to stare. My apologies."
Deirdre still looked apprehensive, ears quirked forward and a nonplussed expression adorning her beaked face. Again, the Gryphon scanned Keaton over for a petrifying few seconds, air bristling with tension, before her sulphur-hued gaze swept over to Stygian. He was speaking irritably to the Undead before he withdrew, apparently in frustration over something. Over the restarting of the music in the background as the momentary silence following the conclusion of the lioness's performance ended, she heard him mutter something about side entries. Once, the name "Keaton" had come up.
As though this were some sort of catalyst, Keaton froze and cursed subaudibly under her breath. Something akin to recognition flashed over Deirdre's features. "Keaton? Excuse me... but do I
know you from somewhere?" she asked, adopting an attitude which was more befitting of an interrogator rather than someone purely curious.
Deirdre was aware of the fact she likely came across as rude and this would be infinitely awkward if the "Doberman" wasn't affiliated with her, but at this moment she was just becoming intimidated. However, almost as though she hadn't heard her, Keaton had turned around and was walking away, leaving Deirdre with nothing to do other than just blink and stare at her retreating back.
At this point Deirdre felt her resolve peter away into nothing but a dejected spark, sputtering hopelessly on its wick, but still alive, incarnated into curiosity that was only feverishly fueled by the sight of the archaic white marking resting on Keaton's hypnotically moving hip.
Rigid, angular, and shaped slightly like a bladed scythe of alabaster. Looked so familiar, but Deirdre wasn't going to act on it yet.
Almost reluctantly, Deirdre withdrew, prying her gaze from Keaton, and slumped. Fantastic.
---
...Keaton:Keaton sighed, wiping invisible perspiration from her brow. That was a close one. Immediately, she scanned the crowd in search of the distinctively colored chiropteran, locating him at a booth nearby a stoat and a rabbit. She quickly walked over, heels drumming out its same, repetitively rhythmic tattoo against the floor.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Gwah!? Hey, the head psycho said to take care of this! I'm still handcuffed! THIS has yet to be taken care of! Richard thought, nearly getting out of his chair to follow as the doberman Stygian had been giving orders to vanished into the crowd. Damn.
"They have any drinks potent enough to catch fire?" he finally asked the fox, figuring it couldn't make his day any worse, "I'm having twelve of them." He glanced at the lioness diva for a second, thoughtfully. Music was, after all, somewhat of a thing with him, "She was off a bit on one of the chorus', but still, damn impressive. You know her name? Stage name? Anything?"
Stygian made himself comfortable in the booth, facing away from Kerya and the rabbit... as if that would make any difference to his senses. Kerya faced him, on the far side of their booth, but the rabbit's back was turned to him. All he could tell about her was her expensive taste in hair styling and ear-fur grooming. The two women were surrounded by a rock-hard mind shield, and they were silent, barely moving. In fact, Kerya seemed to be barely breathing, and she only blinked at an unnaturally slow rate. She had to have seen Stygian, but her frozen gaze never moved. Every now and then the rabbit's head tilted, or her shoulders or ears shifted, as if she were having a silent conversation with Kerya. Stygian raised one eyebrow in a surely-she-isn't-that-stupid gesture, one corner of his mouth twisting up in a wry smirk. His attention focussed on the rabbit's throat, carefully feeling... there! With an extremely light touch, he could sense her throat buzz faintly with subvocalised speech. Not perfect by a long shot, but if he could at least listen in on one side of the conversation...
... might be a high-and-mighty "master mage" where you come from, my dear, but here? You were caught by that silly little song so easily, it was cub's play to take over the bindings when they released you ... Oh, what a tongue you have, little kit, have a care to keep it in your muzzle, or I might just do something to silence it ...
The "voice" was gentle and teasing, but Stygian could hear the threats behind the words.
... Oh, of course I'm going to kill you, eventually, perhaps. But we have the whole evening before us, and who knows what may happen ... Trust me? Heh — you can trust me if you like, but I'll not insist on it ... Sit back and relax, now, and later I'll start asking you questions, about the principles of your kind of magic, and how different mine is ...
Cog's eye shifted over to the panther sitting next to him, his shades masking his gaze. He stood still for a moment, his posture and face giving him a decidedly nonplussed look, and sighed, turning his head for just a moment at the exit he was supposed to be keeping an eye on, and back at the waterfall where the jackal had disappeared.
Nothing.
The wolf sat back, his frown deepening, and taking another deep breath the wolf nodded at Edge.
"Laertes Melanthious the Obsidian." the wolf said, his voice odd. "Usually just Laertes Obsidian. He's a cleric." Cog looked up, his glasses sliding down his nose just a bit as he regarded the panther. "I've never seen him fight, personally. But he is a very powerful priest." he said, shrugging. He paused for a moment, thinking.
"I've been trying to kill him for almost as long as I can remember. This is the third time I've ever seen him in person."
Cog grew quiet after that, simply waiting for whatever it was he was supposed to be waiting for. He stared at the waterfall for a moment, transfixed, and without warning turned his head back to the incubus.
"Are you going to eat all those cashews?"
The black and gold fox laughed.
"I hadn't noticed. Did you miss the introductions? She goes by Sekhmet now. This is her club, you know." He wagged a finger at Richard. "You could have that kind of success if you would just ditch that awful manager of yours. What was his name again? Dominic? Dimitri?"
Edge waved it off as unimportant and looked up at the attendant.
"You heard the man. A dozen of your strongest, if you please." Having spent the previous night drinking with the Richard, Edge knew enough about the Undead's alcohol consumption to take him seriously. "Heck, make it a lucky thirteen."
He turned back to the table.
"What about you, Carey? You're not designated driver, are you?"
The fox spent a moment sizing up the otter and then winked conspiratorially at Richard.
"This otter boy's quite a find, Richard. I didn't know you liked that type, but it's really sweet how you two have been holding hands this whole time."
The fox leaned forward with his elbows on the table and chin resting on his hands.
"So... How did you meet? Is it serious? Do tell!"
+ + +
The panther blinked and appeared slightly flustered for a moment. It seemed to take a few seconds to register that Cog had spoken to him again.
"Huh? Oh, sorry! Where are my manners?"
He pushed the already half-empty bowl of cashews out to the center of the table within reach of the wolf. He smiled sheepishly and spread out his hand in offering.
"A night for meetings of arch-rivals, indeed..."
His voice trailed off, and he left it at that, gazing off into the crowd once more.
The sound of approaching footsteps through the commotion Stygian would have filtered out, but their speed and the sensation of someone familiar closing with him caused him not to. It was Keaton who was coming closer, he realized, and sighed. It was good that she was ready to go, but she seemed flustered and that never meant good.
Had it been just an incubus about to trap and exploit some insignificant being, Stygian would not have cared the slightest. He might have taken a step or two to keep her from devouring the girl right then and there. But the rabbit's words prickled his interest, and in the bat's philosophy some things were simply worth doing. And one of those things was definitely denying some lowly, sadistic succubus power. Had she really been dangerous she would not have been caught in the act so easily anyway.
The bat got out of his seat, passed Keaton a silent look which let her know that he knew she was there, and then moved, silent as the night, over next to the lapine girl. She didn't even hear him until he leaned down and spoke, his head just perhaps a foot from hers.
'
Excuse me,' he said, '
but there seems to be a problem here.'
- -
The zebra looked, still plainly unamused, at Edge for a second, almost as if warning him not to do anything unadvisable, and then nodded. Clasping his hands behind his back, his stiff manner loosened and he looked between the people still at the table, completely ignoring the handcuffs linking Richard and Carey much the same way as the otter was ignoring them all, staring after Stygian. It was only when Edge addressed him that he turned back, looking at them all as if he'd never seen them before. The fox's words brought a blush to his cheeks.
'I'm...!' he started, then shook his head. 'I... think I'll have something. Just... something. With rum.' He looked shameful.
As the singing wore on, Aisha found herself seemingly carried away by the mood of it all. But she kept her concentration on dancing, paying attention to where she was going while trying not to get within eye shot of too many in the large group...thankfully, all eyes were on the lioness, until her performance drew to a close. The panther hadn't noticed, only pausing when the music stopped, wiping a bit of perspiration off her forehead when her swishing steps halted.
But when she looked around, for a moment the adventurer felt sheepish, briefly. First she was one of the more cautious upon entering the pretty much literal lion's den as part of the backup. And now here, she had been the only one of them to let loose on the dance floor...if she were one of the others, she'd call herself a fool. But instead she gave herself a shrug, mentally and physically. Call it exercise. However, Aisha was still flushed and just took a rest, combing her fingers through her hair and glancing over the situation. Only a few of her comrades were in sight...and not even her sensitive hearing could pinpoint any voices from the missing others in the throbbing music and heavy voices of the crowd.
I guess I'll rest and have a drink, she decided, sauntering towards the bar. But on the way, on a table nearby, Aisha thought she caught sight of a familiar Undead. There weren't many around here that she knew, thus. Richard? Now what...? Huh. Guess he couldn't be away from the fun either. The panther shook her head and sat herself at the bar, near to the others, resting the weight of her body on her arms, crossed over the table. "Just, something light, whatever you recommend," she murmured to the barkeep.
"And a double vodka and orange, as well. I'll pay." a voice suddenly said to the side of her. Standing there was Gareeku, finishing off what looked like a gin and tonic. Looking at Aisha, he smiled slightly. "I see you were having fun out there."
Glancing back out at the crowd of the club, Gareeku wondered what was going on with the others, partly concern, partly curiosity. He, however, had ust decided to saty out of the way at the bar and drink, as per usual.
"Then it may be wise to fetch that with the rest of the drinks," Richard replied shortly to the Zebra, "Yeesh, service around here. Anyway, you think I haven't tried ditching Dimitri? At this point I'm considering sneaking cold iron shavings into the ponce's mineral water to make him stop being my problem. Thank god he doesn't know about this place, or he'd have Sekhmet too." He shrugged and threw in a dismissive wave of his own. "On to better topics. Carey here?" he gestured to the young man who he was dead set on making regret every aspect of his current duties, "He just kinda showed up at my doorstep. Then again, he tells it better," Like most undead, the musician didn't consider sexuality a compelling motivator in his existence, and thus had been granted a whole new option for making Carey's life hell. It was like Christmas coming early. "Go on sweetheart," The zombie rasped, "Tell him."
After she ordered her drink, Aisha quirked her ears in surprise and looked up to see who had spoken next to her. She smiled when she saw that it was Gareeku, and chuckled at his statement about her having fun out on the dance floor...though she wondered if the fact that her face was warm was really due to her being slightly flushed from the exercise. So he was watching me...
She flicked her sweat-ridden bangs out of her eyes and smirked. "Heh, it's indeed fun, if you like being on your feet." That was when the drink was set down next to her. She gave a nod of thanks to the barkeep and took a sip, the cool liquid feeling quite good in her throat. "Thanks for buying, I owe you one next time," she grinned to the wolf and followed his gaze out to the crowd.
It seemed like a waiting game now for those who didn't have the swift and dangerous parts. And after everything that's happened, if this club went up in flames as well, the adventurers wouldn't be seen in the town alive again, were they to be identified. She shook her head with a hum. "If all goes well, I hope we won't have to rush to get our weapons from storage. And I thank you for taking care of that for me too, by the way," she added and took another gulp of the liquid.
'Excuse me,' Stygian said, 'but there seems to be a problem here.'
His words, apparently coming from almost in her ear, had an electrifying effect on the rabbit. She gave a muffled squeak of alarm and jumped as if she'd been dunked in ice cubes. Her eyes almost popped out of her head — and something else actually did. A small pair of wings, batlike and buttery yellow in colour, sprouted from her short blonde hair, flaring out as her ears lay back flat against her head. The rabbit 'cubi turned to face Stygian, her fur fluffed up and her eyes wide. After a moment her expression and pose radiated surprised innocence, but not entirely convincingly.
"P... p... problem? Wh-why, there's n-nothing wrong here," she stuttered. "I was just enjoying a drink and a talk with my friend here. You know, clothes, boyfriends, magical gossip, that sort of hrrrkglh..."
The rabbit's words were abruptly cut off as a narrow band of fur around her throat lay flat, then squeezed. She raised her hands to pull at the constriction, but there was nothing solid for her fingers to grab hold of.
"What. Did. You. Do. To. Me?" Kerya's voice, low-pitched and boiling with fury, came from the briefly forgotten far side of the booth. With the rabbit's concentration disrupted, her hold on the little stoat had crumbled. Kerya sat back in her chair, glaring across the table, one hand raised in front of her and apparently clutching empty air. Her other hand reached into her sleeve and pulled out what looked like a twig, about the size of a toothpick. Kerya muttered a few quiet words, and the twig grew, expanding in just a few seconds into a slender ornately carved staff only a little short of her own height, decorated with silver inlay and end caps.
The furious little stoat repeated her question through tightly clenched fangs, shaking her grasping hand. The trapped rabbit's head bobbled back and forth, her headwings fluttering wildly, and her nosepad and the insides of her ears turned a variety of unhealthy colours. Some of them were even visible on certain parts of the rabbit's face, where her white fur was particularly thin.
The rabbit's initial reaction was entirely satisfactory to the bat. Flexing his claws, he calmly readied to perform a little number of dark magic that would put her out of commission for the rest of the evening with a few educative side effects. However he didn't get so far, before something appeared around her neck and began constricting her.
A swift look between the two girls told him everything he needed to know, and for a moment he was relieved. Perhaps he didn't have to intervene after all. That thought was swept away when he realized the volatility of Kerya's reaction though. In a moment, things became much too dramatic and flashy for his liking. He immediately responded.
The bat's move was simple. He simply swept his hand down in front of the rabbit, and though she couldn't feel any magic from his side, Kerya felt her grip on the lapine's throat dissolve somehow, melting away in a split second. Or rather, it had felt as if something were eating away the magic, like acid. Not a pleasant sensation.
Dark eyes faced her under a slight scowl. 'We are in a club, miss. I will ask you to mind your manners,' the bat said quickly. Then, he turned back to look at the rabbit again. 'And so will you. I shall not report something like this even if I know the owner of this place. But I know something that will be even better.' He placed his hand on her shoulder, another subtle maneuver.
A jolt seemed to pass through the succubus, and her eyes widened and pupils narrowed to pinpricks, looking out into nowhere. It lasted only a second, but when she looked up again into the bat's wickedly smiling face she was breathing twice as fast and shaking, her face as if she was on the verge of tears.
'That's right,' Stygian murred. 'And you can't do a thing. So you will sit and behave. And pray I do not come for you later.'
As if everything else had simply stopped mattering, the bunny slumped into her seat, hopelessness on her face, while Stygian stood up again and smiled.
Kerya chittered in surprise and ducked back when Stygian disrupted her spell. There was a faint sound of something invisible sliding against something else invisible, then a distinct thump, and a palm-sized dent appeared in the wall behind her, as if it had been hit by a padded sledgehammer. The little stoat shook her hand and looked closely at it. Not a strand of fur was out of place, and her claw polish wasn't even scuffed. She stood up and looked at Stygian, her ears perking up as she recognised him.
"Peace, then, for now," she agreed with a grudging nod in reply to the bat's comment. "If she crosses me again, though, she may beg the Lady for Her mercy — in person — for I shall have none."
Kerya watched Stygian with interest as he did something that left the rabbit a shivering nervous wreck. "My thanks for the assistance — I told you we would meet again!" she said with a quirky smile on her face. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she continued, "May I ask my benefactor's name? Or shall I just call you "tall, pale and gruesome"...?"
Again, the girl's frankness took him a bit by surprise, and Stygian raised his brow and tilted his head by the slightest degree. Then he smirked, placing one hand behind his back.
'
Call me by whatever name,' he said. '
Though most would say Sebastian.' He made a small, formal bow, mostly just a nod. He wondered at her quickly shifting moods. It was seldom that he met someone who changed their outward expression as quickly as he. But she seemed an interesting one, all the more for the comments from before. It was sad that he didn't have the time to speak to her immediately.
'
I'm trusting you can take care of this thing on your own now,' he said, making a meaningful sideways glance toward the rabbit, who didn't even seem to notice. '
I have some business to attend to. But perhaps we shall talk later?' He made a quick, outwardly unnoticeable check to make sure that Keaton and Edge were near, and hopefully on their way.
- -
The otter had blushed before, but the redness that hinted under his fur now was purely from anger. 'Stuff it you morons!' he snarled, eyes dashing back and forth between Richard and Edge. 'Like you know what you've gotten yourselves into. You just hope that you can walk quietly out of this one!'
Finishing her drink Mel moved away from her spot by the waterfall. She took the long way to the bar. As the little silver fox walked past the booth where Ignatz and Keaton were interacting with some strangers she paused and quirked an eyebrow at the distraction before continuing on to the bar where Aisha and Gareeku were relaxing. "You seem to be enjoying your dance."
"He's just grouchy because he knows who's really the lucky one in this relationship," the undead whispered to Edge, a scrap of decaying matter falling off the edge of his jaw and fluttering down to the table, "I just felt so bad for him. Anyway, what's this YOU crap?" Richard held up his (and thus Carey's) arm, showing the handcuffs without a care now, "You better hope that WE can walk quietly out of this one. So why don't you tell me..." the zombie's voice lowered somewhat, his glowering at Carey that same way he had out in the alleyway, "... What we have gotten ourselves into?"
"And you, my dear, seem to be enjoying yourself far too little." Cog walked up behind Mel, his eyes occasionally glancing back towards the entrance of the club and the waterfall, and then back to the morphed dragon. He raised an eyebrow, peering over the tops of his shades at the fox.
"I'm drinking, the Incubus over there is lounging, and these two are indeed cutting a fine rug," the wolf remarked, leaning up against the bar, "But even watching the door it's hard not to notice a fox just standing all by herself next to a waterfall, getting her nice dress all wet from the spray, and staring at everyone else." he said, and looked out of the corner of his eyes at Mel. "Not that it's particularly noticeable, but it'd be a shame to have more eyes on us than necessary before...whatever we're here for goes down."
The wolf looked at Mel for another moment, and then grinned. "And more than that, you look much to pretty to be standing off by yourself. So, my lady, in the interests of keeping a low profile," Cog said, pushing himself off the bar, and turning towards the fox he made a formal bow, then extending his hand towards the dragon.
"Would you care to dance?"
Mel laughed with genuine humor and took the offered hand. "I am honored, Mr. Mithome. I would not want to look out of place." She grinned at him, "I warn you, I may be unable to avoid enjoying myself. I hope you do not think that too unprofessional of me."
Taking the silver fox's hand, the wolf kissed it just once and gestured to the dance floor, leaving his cane next to Aisha and Gareeku. "Far be it from me to disapprove, my lady." Cog said, also grinning.
The music that the band was playing wasn't quite the quick, fast paced rock and roll that it had been playing before, but a continuation of the music that the lioness Sehkmet had been singing and dancing to before. Cog turned, his coat swirling softly about his ankles, and with a smile maneuvered himself around the transformed dragon, one hand grabbing the fox's other, and his other hand coming to rest at the small of her back.
"I'm afraid I don't know very many new dances." he said, tilting his head to the side. "But you strike me as the type who might not either. Just a hunch." the wolf said, again smiling.
"Pretty kinky..."
The fox wore a bemused smirk and a raised eyebrow. He sighed dramatically.
"Alas, poor Richard, chained down to a boyfriend who has his heart set on another man. Even with you next to him, Carey couldn't take his eyes off the scary bat guy." He fixed his eyes on the otter and wagged a finger. "You don't know how lucky you are, Carey. Take my advice: You should hold on to what you have instead of chasing things out of your reach. No offence, but that guy is way out of your league."
+ + +
"It's so nice to see you making friends, Lucian."
The jaguar had his hands in his pockets and a smug grin on his face. He nodded warmly to the stout. He sized up the headwinged rabbit with a detached disinterest that didn't merit a second glance. If the disguised Incubus felt any sympathy for his kinswoman, it didn't show. He cocked his head and looked up at Stygian with an expectant gaze.
...Keaton:
Upon receiving Stygian's confirming stare, Keaton sighed and continued to approach, up until his attention was seized by another phenomenon in the form of a lapine Succubus and a stoat seated nearby. For some reason Stygian's interest had been piqued by these two, something Keaton wasn't particularly concerned with. He could do what he wanted, as long as they didn't get in trouble--and she doubted that he would do anything which would endanger their clandestine secrecy. Flicking her tail to the side, Keaton surreptitiously took a seat at the booth, occasionally and furtively casting her glance between Stygian, who was confronting the rabbit Succubus, and the tabby Gryphon far away.
She couldn't see much in regards of the Gryphon's activity, but Keaton knew that she was suspicious. After all, she had done a piss-poor job at keeping herself incognito, so it was no wonder that she was apprehensive. As time passed Keaton steadily realized the increasing pressure which was leaning onto her shapeshifted form, making it more and more difficult to continue assuming her disguise. She would have to take refuge in a bathroom or somewhere equally private nearby if her subterfuge dropped.
From afar Keaton analyzed the panicked expression of the lapine as Stygian did... something which she couldn't detect, and had stripped away her defenses. After so thoroughly frightening the Succubus Stygian was now getting comfortable with acquainting himself with the stoat, making Keaton roll her eyes and her attention drift towards the dance floor. Cogidubnus was dancing with Mel now. Edge was talking with Stygian. And all she could do was lace her fingers beneath her chin and fight against the strengthening pressure on her shapeshifting, hoping that the Gryphon wouldn't see her outside her disguise.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Aisha hummed into her drink as she watched the goings-on in the club...though the activity in front of the bystanders' respective gaze was still going on strong and colorful as well as lively. She kept her eyes half-lidded, due to the constant motion and lights. She was content at least for the moment, trying to cool herself down. It was after a while of doing so that Mel showed herself, after seemingly having hidden for a while, doing the same things that the panther had done; mostly staying out of influence.
She only had a smirk on her face when Mel also commented her on dancing. But as she began to open her mouth in reply, Cogi had come over to the disguised dragon and asked for a turn on the dance floor. Aisha spared a nod farewell for the moment, leaning back on the bar and watching the pair with a smile. "Cute," she commented about them, ears perking and tail swishing as she heard the music cut to a slightly slower tune.
Again, the panther then wondered what had become of their other comrades...or mutual acquaintances, more like. It hadn't been for too very long that they had been in the club; but the waiting alone was enough to make one tense. She took a deep breath and banished the anxiety from her mind in an instant. Even if it was rather in the interest of keeping a low profile, as Cogidubnus put, it was also a chance to enjoy things while they could, as he and Mel were demonstrating. And Aisha did indeed like to keep on her feet.
Finishing her drink off with a slow sip, she glanced at Gareeku for a moment. She knew it was his own way to stay out of the way of things as well, especially now. But, who knew...perhaps she could try bring a bit of his old self out. Perhaps she would be taken as a fool for wanting herself and everyone else to loosen up. But there was no harm in trying.
With a barely audible gulp, she set her glass on the table and stood up, stretching her arms in front of her. "I don't think another dance is a bad idea," she turned to the wolf with a soft but challenging grin. "I don't suppose you'd want to join me, tough guy."
Kerya nodded. "Very well, Sebastian." She tucked the staff into the crook of her left arm, rather than a walking-stick grip, raising her free hand to make an odd, clawing gesture over her chest. "I am Kerya, accredited Master of the Four Rings School. You have an... odd style to your Art. Perhaps it is one of the things we could discuss later, after you complete your business. I shall remain here for a while longer, unless that —" the little stoat narrowed her eyes and indicated the rabbit still sitting numbly at the booth, "— chooses to try herself against me once more. Until later, then."
Giving a small, polite bow to the bat, Kerya strode off in the direction of the bar, nodding briefly to the grinning jaguar who seemed to want to talk to her new acquaintance.
It wasn't until she was passing a nervous-looking dark-furred canine of some kind sitting at a nearby table that she paused and let her face slip a little, showing immense relief, and just a hint of worry. In the Names of the Lord and the Lady, she thought, that was another close one! If Sebastian had not intervened... Her fur shivered down the back of her neck for a moment, then she continued towards the bar. Perhaps she could find something close enough to her favourite brandy.
'Oh, and in whose then? Yours?' Carey hissed back, then looked away and as the zebra came back to deliver their drinks quickly grabbed his and kicked it back hastily. The equine stayed for a moment, then turned his chiseled back to them and retreated slowly and gracefully. Somehow though, it still felt as if his attention was still with them.
The glass smacked as the otter put it down, looking a bit haggard. 'You've blown up one bar already. And no one's linked it to anyone. Should give you an idea of what these people can do just like that,' he muttered.
- -
Stygian gave Keaton a short, pleasant look, and then backed up and straightened his suit just when Edge arrived. He looked back at the jaguar a bit nonchalantly and then to Kerya, giving her a last smile before she left.
Looking back to the two incubi, the bat sighed. '
Well then. We're going,' he said, then turned and began pacing along the wall against a door at the far end of the booths, guarded by a slightly more formally dressed male attendant, a young lion who looked as hard as a bag of rocks. Before the bat and the jaguar and jackal even reached the door, the lion looked up, and then placed his paw on the door, pushing it open and bowing his head at them. Stygian entered without giving him a second glance and examined their new surroundings.
As could be expected, the door led into a corridor connecting to the backrooms of the club, red-walled and decorated with an exquisite golden board and red carpets. And as could also be expected, behind the stages it was almost as lively as in front. Special guests were treated to their own rooms, serfs scurried holding platters and plates. The place even seemed to have its own bathhouse as a pair of figures that walked up a stairway and past them were still dripping, a picture-perfect, topless desert cat giggling and leading on a much larger wolverine who grinned and held his hands around her as they hurried on by, strewing droplets of water that stained the smooth carpets. Stygian raised his eyebrows, then gave a derisive snort, before another girl stepped up by them, as immodest as the soaked feline had been.
'Mr. Donovan?' she said, and Stygian looked down at her, nearly frowning. 'This way, please.' The bat nodded harshly, and she hurried on, walking ahead.
'
Don't say anything,' Stygian discretely said back to Keaton and Edge as they walked. '
That goes mostly for you, Keaton. Don't try and draw her attention.'
Richard shook his head, reaching for his drink, "Well, it's only been a day- gah, not the point. Listen up, kid, we didn't blow up any damn bars. That was the other guys. So why don't you tell me what's going on so I can tell when this one's gonna go up. Because lets face it," he sighed, his face that of one who'd been dragged into the 'adventurer's' life too many times before. He drained the first of the potent intoxicants the zebra had brought and reached for another immediately, "it's gonna happen. If I know these people, and I've been starting to hope I don't- No offense, Edge- Then this place will be looking at a stampede of scared furrae trying to get the hell out in an hour, tops." he rattled the handcuffs again, "And I'm not gonna bite through my own arm to get out of these if you feel like being difficult." Richard added a bit more rasp to the last sentence; it was within his abilities, but he didn't want to actually do it.
The music to which the morphed dragon and the wolf danced was too quick for formal dancing, of course, this being a club and not a ballroom. But both of the dancers were deft, and both knew the steps, and a little modification here and there managed to keep their movements in time with the meter of the music.
Mel's white dress swirled in contrast with Cog's own black attire, the grey wolf and the silver fox moving gracefully, if not wildly, across the dance floor. The pace they moved at suggested more of a swing dance, or some sort of tango than a waltz or a foxtrot. Even so, they didn't look out of place amongst the crowd of the Red Sands - considering some of the patron's mode of dance, and state of attire, there were many other things far more interesting to watch. Two people dancing a semi-formal swing dance were certainly not even on the radar.
The black-clad wolf and the white-clad fox, strange though the sight might have been, did indeed hide in plain sight - out of all the strange things that occupied the Red Sands, they were certainly one of the least strange ones. The plan was a success.
Cog grinned. At least, that would be his story, and he was sticking to it...
...Keaton:
Keaton was more than happy to follow Stygian to the other room, even when she had no idea where they were going. Frankly, any opportunity to walk away undetected was a good enough incentive for her alone. Without complaint Keaton unfolded her slender legs and stepped off of the stool, brushing her dress off and following Stygian and Edge as they approached the door guarded by the lion. After giving them an analytical stare he had bowed his head in respect and pushed open the door for them.
Inside, the walls and floors were garbed in luxurious decorations, a contrast to the carefree nature of some of the guests which sprinted through the corridors half-naked. Keaton blinked at the unusual sight of the wolverine and cat-girl, but shrugged it off relatively quickly when Stygian was confronted casually by another girl. An attendant, most likely. After nodding to her Stygian mentioned something, which made Keaton pout involuntarily. Her? Why her? Edge was more likely to get in trouble, all past behavior considered.
Either way, she decided to not question his judgment. Probably had a good reason for saying that, she decided. Sighing, Keaton brushed some curled ringlets of hair out from her face and followed Stygian close behind.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Edge followed Stygian into the private areas of the club. With his hands resting comfortably behind his back, the jaguar's posture indicated relaxed confidence. He displayed no particular interest in the surroundings, which had changed little since his visit the day before. He took a moment to size up each new person as they appeared, but his gaze didn't linger, even on the pretty ones. His eyes remained focused, sparkling in anticipation.
He nodded in acknowledgement of Stygian's request.
"Of course. I am, after all, just a delivery boy." He grinned. "I'm sure you two will have a lot of catching up to do."
+ + +
I want to go on record saying that this is a bad idea.
Ky, it's hard enough to juggle two conversations at once without a peanut gallery interjecting.
I'm serious! I don't like this at all.
You had no objections when we came here yesterday.
That was just a meeting with a client.
This
is just a meeting with a client. The same one, in fact. Well, maybe with better legs...
Ch-Yah! That
meeting didn't end in bloodshed and mayhem. This
one almost certainly will. And don't deny that your combat abilities are limited in here. Even I can feel the wards. I wish you'd left the fox outside like we planned.
What? Abandon a comrade in need of rescue?
If that's your excuse...
+ + +
"At least I'm good looking enough to have a shot."
The fox rolled his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and then brought it to rest in front of him, pausing to inspect his claws.
"But I'd appreciate not being lumped in with idiot pyromaniacs who blow up bars full of people. That sort always gets what's coming to them in the end."
He held his drink up, nodding a toast, and then kicked it back in one gulp. After he set the glass down, however, he seemed to lose interest in the otter. His gaze wandered out to the other denizens of the club, among whom more dangerous troublemakers might be hidden...
The girl led the three sharply and quite contrastingly fully dressed through the back of the club, up a narrow round stairwell and then through the corridor of the top floor to a door at the very end of it, then stood to the side and looked down, holding her hands before her yet not blushing in spite of her immodesty. 'She's waiting for you,' was all she said. Stygian walked past and opened the door, and stepped in.
The room was quite large, easily the size of a small apartment. One part of it was elevated, a short set of stairs leading up to a floor where a large four-poster bed hinted behind a set of semitransparent draperies. Paintings and decorations adorned the walls, and most notably a rather large pair of tasteful, whole-piece statues of Anubis-like creatures in what seemed to be black marble were set to the far corners of the room. An obviously magical timepiece, a huge timeglass atop a complex golden clockwork mechanism through which some red liquid ran, stood to the other side of the room between two windows. The room was somewhat dimly lit, accentuating the golden and red tones of most of the furnishing perfectly.
And there she was, sitting lazily in a sofa to the far end of the room, holding a golden goblet in her hand and already having changed into something more formal, a deep red, backless dress that clung to her sand-colored form perfectly. She grinned.
'Please, do come in. Have a seat,' she said, her pleasant voice almost a purr. 'Something to drink? It's been far too long for comfort, Lou.' She raised the goblet to her mouth and took a long sip, them placed it down on the red-glassed table with a languid movement, gold jewelry clinking slightly. 'The bounties that still stand are all I've had to go on lately. I've been worried about you.'
'Not long enough, Ash. And I'd rather not,' Stygian said, slowly walking over. He slipped into one of the armchairs opposite to the sofa, never taking his eyes off her. This close one could see that she was probably taller than the bat. 'I won't stay for long.'
The lioness chuckled softly, a strangely pleasant sound. 'Don't be so cold. It's been, what, six hundred years? And then you show up at my doorstep. The city still remembers.' Her eyes shifted between Edge and Keaton, one at each side of the bat. 'And then with these people in tow. Not the companions I would have thought for you. But good taste, nevertheless. Especially the girl.' She gave the succubus a long, veiled look. Her eyes were a deep, reddish brown, matching her short and well-trimmed, spiky hair.
Mel was amazed. Dancing was not one of her top ten skills, particularly not with her wings hidden and her balance a little bit off. She put the success entirely down to the graceful swordsman. Of course such luck couldn't last. The music swept to a close and she took one step backwards, intending to compliment Cog on his dancing skill. Instead she said a rather rude word as she slipped on an ice cube escaped from some drunks drink and ended up in a rather undignified heap on the floor. She sighed, "It figures. The dance curse continues unabated."
As the others came over and chatting, Gareeku said nothing, choosing instead to sip more of the drink in his hand. Like Aisha, he too thought of where the others were.
As long as they're not getting into trouble... the wolf thought to himself while taking a sip of his drink. Watching Mel and Cog walk off into the crowd to dance, Gareeku then turned to Aisha as she spoke to him. Finishing the rest of his drink, he looked at her, a slight smirk on his face.
"Is that a challenge?"
Taking the pantheress by the hand, the wolf led her into the crowd, where they danced in a fashion not too dissimilar to Cogi and Mel; graceful and smooth, both of them moving together with fluidity and finesse. He may have been a warrior, but he also knew how to dance. Twirling Aisha around occasionally, Gareeku then held her close to him for a moment, his eyes looking into hers. It was in that moment that time itself seemed to slow down. He couldn't tear himself away from those warm, crimson eyes...
It was then however, that he realised the music had ended. Looking up and around, the wolf rubbed the back of his head slightly. However, if one were to look carefully, it would become apparent that those normally white cheeks had turned a slight shade of pink.
As she observed Gareeku's response at her offer to join her on the dance floor, Aisha held a smirk on her features as well; it was a challenge, though a light-hearted one, and she knew that the wolf would take it. However, her look softened to a smile as he took her hand within his own. This time, the both of them wandered into the crowd...into the heated world in which the music created for the patrons of the club. The panthress now felt more at east with someone dancing along with her, and thus she could move with a lot more fluidity and grace.
While they moved, Aisha wasn't at all bothered by the crowd, either...it was just herself and Gareeku, and the hypnotic music leading their steps. At times she let the wolf lead, and at times she led herself, falling just into the natural rhythm that they shared. Their steps were synchronous, their movements fluid, and again her pulse thundered. She enjoyed every moment of it.
Towards the end of the dance then, she let herself be pulled close to Gareeku, one hand within his own and the other resting on his chest. Aisha softly caught her breath a few times in that pause and gazed into his eyes as well. With the atmosphere, it was hypnotic, being caught in his presence...those eyes, one the soothing, gentle blue that he always had, and the other as that of his other side...she didn't know what made her blood rush more...the dance, or his strong gaze. The look it had was different, and yet...the same.
But she was soon snapped out of her trance when he was, the music stopping and the dance floor simply mingling and once more out of rhythm. She turned her gaze away for a moment, her face flushed with warmth...one could swear that in the right light, there was a red tint under the black fur. She turned back to see he had the same sort of look to him, which made her smile softly.
With a chuckle, Aisha playfully flicked a few strands of hair from his eyes. "Heh, see, I knew you could dance, and quite well, too." There was a quiet murr to her voice. "I'm glad you joined me."
As the music came to a close, Cog came to a stop slowly, and took a single step backwards, almost bowing to the graceful lady. He had always thought that simply moving gracefully without a sword might be considered dancing, but watching the Mel's moves had shown him quite how wrong he was. As he smiled at the silver fox, however, Mel suddenly slipped, an ice cube whizzing past the wolf's head as she fell into a heap on the ground.
"Mel!" the wolf said, his eyes somewhat wide. Rationally, of course, he knew that the fall hadn't hurt Mel any more than being hit with a strong gust might do to him - she was a dragon, after all, and was in reality bigger than the space it took her to fall.
As he bent over, however, the dragon's sudden comment made him glad for his shades all the sudden. He could suppress a smile, but the amusement in his eyes might be a bit difficult to hide. He 'helped' her to her feet.
"Curse, huh?" he said, tilting his head. "Ice cubes aside, you were very good. Perhaps next time I'll watch my tongue and leave out the smart remarks about dancing ability." he said, smiling slightly.
He nodded to the bar, where he cane was lying next to the bar. "But I'm afraid such a graceful partner has tired me out, a bit. Would you care to sit?"
As she walked around the edge of the dance floor, out of the corner of her eye Kerya spotted Sebastian going through a door to one side of the hall, followed by two other people. They looked familiar: she was sure they had been close by when she left the bat, and one was almost definitely the jaguar she'd seen.
Once she reached the bar, she perched on a tall stool, propping her staff against her leg. For what felt like the tenth time that week, Kerya explained to yet another barman what kind of glass she wanted — wide and shallow, so she could comfortably put her muzzle in and lap up her drink like a civilized person. Finally satisfied, she settled back with a good quality brandy and amused herself for a while people-watching.
She couldn't help noticing several of the dancers, and some of those sitting at tables, were of species she'd never considered to be someone she could talk to. Some were lizard or bird types, which struck her as downright odd, and some appeared to be a mixture of species, or at least ones she'd never heard of before. Thinking about that one had the potential to really make her head hurt.
The band built up their music to a climax, and one elegant pair of dancers caught Kerya's eye, a grey wolf and a silver fox going through more stately, graceful steps than many of the other dancers. Then the vixen rather spoiled the mood by slipping on the last beat of the music and falling flat on her tail. The ice cube she'd stepped on flew across the dance floor, coming to rest right in the middle of a yellow-furred woman's hair. The little stoat doubted if the ice cube had been noticed, that hair was a towering confection of blue curls taller than the length of her own tail. She snickered quietly as she wondered how long it would take for the ice to melt, and lapped up some more of what she'd discovered was really quite excellent brandy.
The otter just snorted and took another hefty swig from his glass, looking more bitter by the moment. He didn't speak or say anything as a response to the others' questions. Instead, after a while, he fumbled out the key to the handcuffs and reached down to unlock them with a clicking sound.
'There,' he said, reaching down and somewhat disgustedly removing the cuff from Richard's rotting wrist. 'You can just beat it. Get out. I know I don't stand a chance, bu...'
A smooth, pleasant, almost mocking female voice sounded from behind them all. 'Is everything to your liking, gentlemen?'
'Damnit, I'm not...' Carey growled and looked up, then stopped short, staring.
The woman was a wolfess with silken gray fur and short, slightly ruffled but styled and spiked black hair. She was dressed in a red outfit quite like the ones worn by the girls at the wardrobes, but more styled, elaborate and covering. She seemed to be some sort of stewardess.
'You arrived with mister Donovan, no?' she smiled at them.
- -
A bit of silence followed the lioness' statement, Stygian simply eying her coldly, something she seemed not to notice. She picked up her goblet again and took a short sip, sighing contentedly.
'
As for you, I did not expect to see you again,' she said, first as if at no one. Then she looked at Edge. '
At least not accompanying him. But you couldn't do that courtesy, could you?' She giggled unexpectedly and looked back at Stygian. '
Really Lou, it is humorous to see how low you've fallen.'
'
The issue,' Stygian snarled sharply, before lowering his tone, '
...is "why are we here"?' He glared at the woman. '
"Astrid Rothe". "Roth Starr". A judge freeing that demon from his sentence. And this place. Since when do you own a club here?' He paused, gaze rock-solid. '
You called me out. Why?'
Richard inspected his wrist, rubbing at the marks the cuffs had left to see if they were likely to fade away. "Thanks Carey. I appreciate it," he honestly did. The guy would probably catch hell from his comrades for this. If the opportunity arose, the undead would probably return the favor. And then, of course, there was the wolfess.
If this is another chaperone... "Mm, it's possible. Depends," what was left of heavy brows lowered as the musician shot Edge a look, "What did he do?"
The fox's ears perked up at the wolf's arrival. He turned from the dancers to study her, as if trying to place where he'd seen her before, but said nothing for several seconds. He finally spoke up before Carey had a chance to make a fuss.
"Hmm? We did not enter the club with Mr. Donovan. But he hasn't tried to kill any of us today." Edge chuckled. "That would make us best of friends, no?"
+ + +
Edge instantly quashed any annoyance at the distraction and the strain of spreading his consciousness over two places at once. Given Stygian's assessment of their host's abilities, sensing emotions would be well within her power. Regardless of whether she was currently employing such an ability, he preferred not to risk sending the wrong impression. He maintained his pleasant smile and calm compsure throughout the meeting.
Following the invitation to enter and be seated, the dark jaguar took a seat to the right of the bat. He crossed his legs and clasped his hands over his lap, resting with a slight forward lean that made him seem relaxed but attentive. He seemed torn between the imprudence of injecting himself into the conversation and the rudeness of ignoring the lioness after being addressed directly. She had as much as admitted that it was she who hired him the day before.
"My apologies. Delivering him to you dead proved... slightly more challenging than anticipated." Edge allowed himself a sheepish smile.
He inclined his head.
Leading him here seemed the most appropriate option. As it appears to meet with your approval, I shall consider my obligations under our contract complete. He let his thoughts float above the surface, just over the top layer of his mental defences.
...Keaton:
Blatantly ignoring the immodesty of those surrounding them, Keaton trailed dutifully behind Stygian, keeping her posture dignified and elegant as an attractive accentuation to the sophistication of her disguise. Hazel eyes, one paler than the other, were locked unmovingly forward during the group's ascension of the stairwell and as they approached the door they were guided to. Nodding her head affirmatively to the topless catgirl, Keaton accompanied Stygian and Edge inside. The room itself was impressive in design, pleasant to the eye and luxuriously opulent, rather befitting of the resident inhabiting the gold-bedecked chamber. Unwillingly, Keaton gave an appraising stare to the pair of Anubis-esque statues resting in the corners of the room, just barely avoiding giving a smirk. Jackals seemed to be an occurring theme throughout this club; understandable, considering the atmosphere.
The lioness who had been performing before was reclining in the sofa, regarding them lazily. After Stygian took a seat Keaton followed suit, perching herself within an armchair and keeping her face schooled into a professional, stony mask. She remembered Stygian's instructions. No more no less--though she couldn't help but quirk her ears in a curious fashion when the lioness called Stygian "Lou." Keaton probably should have become accustomed to the fact Stygian had multiple identities--hell, she did as well, once going by the name of Alexandra, next as Diana, and yes, even the name "Keaton" was a sobriquet--but it was nevertheless hard to keep track of.
She became rather aware of why Stygian had ordered her to remain quiet when the lioness addressed her in a sultry manner. Still remaining expressionless, Keaton exhibited no ostensible signs of tension other than the silent drumming and petrification of her fingers against the armrests of her chair. Fortunately the lioness's attentions shifted to Edge, next, granting her some form of relaxation now that she was spared from her gaze. Having no comment, for now, Keaton just sat and listened attentively, absorbing all new information and resisting the pressure against her disguise.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The lioness quirked an eyebrow at Edge and studied him coldly for a short while, before taking another sip from her goblet. A metallic, somewhat spicy smell hung in the air. Then she turned her face and smiled at the bat. 'Come now. Don't play dumb with me, Lou,' she said. Her tone had gotten just a shade darker, her gaze just a hint more veiled.
'I'm asking you. You know me,' was Stygian's simple reply, still somewhat irritated.
'I know what you do!' Ash snarled back, suddenly and sharply angry. 'You're not an idiot. And you can't lie to me.' She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Providence aside, that you would bring two potentials right to my door is either lunacy or planned action.'
Suddenly, the lioness' attention was back to Keaton. And this time her gaze was piercing. The 'cubi could feel something strange, a slurry sensation accompanying the heaviness of the pressure on her transformation. For a moment she thought that maybe those drinks in the bar were a bit stronger than they seemed. Then she remembered that she hadn't had any drinks.
Making a disdainful snort, the lioness stood up and walked around them, over to the timepiece against the wall. The muscles on her back moved visibly under her luxuriant fur thanks to the open part of the dress. 'Time can't change all things,' she said, looking out the window between the red and golden draperies. 'It won't go away just because you refuse to see it.'
'I'm not looking for anything, Ashtaroth,' Stygian said. He was standing, all of a sudden, walking slowly to the side of the sofa and looking awls at her. 'And I don't want anything to do with you ever again.' She turned around and gave him a hard glare.
'You can still save yourself, Lou,' she said. 'You do realize that with little... Katherine here, we can make you redundant.' She chuckled. 'And with the other girl out there...'
The sudden mention of her real name snapped Keaton out of the almost drunken feeling that had overcome her. And what was more, a feeling made her look at her hands. Somehow, she had shapeshifted back to her normal form, wings and everything. What had come over her?! The lioness grinned, and suddenly the jackal got a very unpleasant feeling.
'The seal is broken,' Ashtaroth continued, grin slowly fading into a sinister smirking glare. 'And it's do or die for you, Lu. You have nothing to lose.'
'I will never give up my power,' Stygian replied harshly.
'I'm afraid that's not one of the options,' the lioness broke in. 'Because if you won't work with us we'll tear it from you.'
Something, a sudden change in her tone, made Stygian raise his eyebrows a notch. 'Us?'
The lioness grinned again. And this time there was something to it that really made hackles rise on Keaton and Edge's necks. 'Maybe you are an idiot after all. Don't tell me you haven't sensed it.' She chuckled, and took a step closer, still swirling the liquid in her goblet slightly. 'The others are here. They are coming.'
Stygian made the smallest of gasps, the first sound of breathing that either Edge or Keaton had heard from him, and took a step back. His face was a mix between terror and fury, dark eyes wide open.
Looking back at Aisha, he smiled softly; the first time he had done so in a very long time.
"I never said I couldn't." the wolf replied to the pantheress' first comment. "I'm glad I joined you, as well..."
It was then, however, that the smile faded from his face as he looked away slightly. She had been looking at his eye...that evil-looking, demonic eye that he now possessed...looking back at her, the wolf had a look on his face which clearly displayed his self-loathing, especially that eye.
"I...uh...I need a drink. I'll buy you one, too." Gareeku muttered, before beginning to make his way to the bar nearby.
Mel laughed as they returned to the bar area. "In is a well known fact in certain circles that some sort of humiliating fate awaits me whenever I tread the dance floor." She looked at Aisha and Gareeku and they passed them, lost in a world of their own. "Others do not seem to have the same problems."
As she saw Gareeku's smile, the panthress felt her heart leap. This was the wolf she knew, her comrade and friend. From the fun they've had while dancing, Aisha thought that she'd seen his old self again...even if it had been for but a moment, the happiness lingered.
But it was a moment that passed somewhat quickly, as she observed the smile fade from his face and his gaze turn away for a moment. The look on her own face slowly faded as well, replaced with one of curiosity and, more so, concern. As he looked back, a look of loathing in his expression, he would see her head tilted. But she heard his mutter, and made a slight nod, walking beside him as he went back to the bar. "That would be great, thank you," she relayed with a soft voice...though her countenance contained the same worry.
As thoughts passed about his eye, she also thought of how he fought the horde of marauders back at the inn...so drenched in his fighting, dark and merciless, that she had to block his attack with her own sword to stop him. Questions arose...but he was more withdrawn than the panthress had seen him. How many he would answer, she didn't know.
As Aisha sat at the bar with him, awaiting their drinks, she was silent for a moment, unknowing of what to say...and then with a deep breath, she turned to Gareeku and laid her hand softly upon his shoulder. "So...will you tell me what's wrong? I'd very much like to know what's happened to you since...since I last saw you." Her eyes were curious and full of frightful concern, yet surprisingly gentle, trying to search for understanding. "If you don't want to say right now, that's fine, but...I would like to know sometime before our paths might separate again, at least."
As the lioness's cold gaze fell on him, Edge simply returned her eye contact with that same sheepish smile on his face. He shrugged, apparently unsurprised and unperturbed by her failure to find his personality quirks amusing. For some odd reason, the old ones rarely did.
He raised an eyebrow at Keaton's transformation, a faint feeling of disgust welling up at the evidence of mind control. He hadn't noticed the attack, but then he'd been preoccupied with his own defences. Apparently, Keaton's mind shields had proved inadequate after all...
Despite the abuse of his fellow Cubi, the situation had not yet escalated into violence. That gave him time to prepare an exit on the other side. A confrontation on this level would demand all of his attention, so for now he simply watched and waited for the two powers to collide. Only a slightly more energetic flick of his tail betrayed his growing excitement.
Let someone else make the first move.
+ + +
The fox stood suddenly and slid out of the booth, placing himself between the table and the wolf. He smiled pleasantly at her.
"Richard, the others are over there." He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. "Please let them know that their night is about to get
interesting."
Having ordered them more drinks, Gareeku stayed silent as Aisha took a seat beside him. Saying nothing as she spoke to him, the wolf looked downward somewhat as the pantheress voiced her concern.
"This darkness within me...it's stronger than ever before..." Gareeku replied, before looking up at her. "You saw what happened that time...when..."
Stopping for a moment as his mind thought back to that fateful day, the wolf sighed.
"I'm all alone...and I don't know what to do..." he continued. The look in his eyes was once again that of a sad, lonely person. "This...thing inside me has changed me...I feel darker...and now I have nothing left..."
"Interesting sounds about right..." Richard got up only a tad stiffly, "Don't do anything cocky Edge. Look after yourself, Carey." With that, the zombie looked in the indicated direction, dead eyes scanning the area. Lets see, if I know them they're about as subtle as a flock of drunk seagulls... He spotted a minor commotion and knew it was one of them before he even picked out the details of Cog and some woman he didn't recognise dancing. Figures... He started toward the bar, eyes on the swordsman...
Aisha hadn't noticed when the drinks arrived...her eyes were on Gareeku as he answered her concerns, her feelings saddening with each word he uttered. The darkness within him was certainly nothing to be trifled with, yes...but if it was as strong as he had said...to put it accurately, it scared the panthress, though it couldn't be seen in her expression, as she kept it soft. Nor was she scared for herself...but for him. Like she had been since...
She too remembered, all too vividly...and from that memory, there was understanding when it came to Gareeku's situation. But as she witnessed his face, heard his disheartening words, it was hard not to keep a tear from trying to breach her own eye, however she tried to hide her worry from him while they had been running in the city...after all of that time. But with the sadness, the concern and the fear, there also came something else...a familiar determination.
Aisha shook her head. "No. I won't let you talk like that. Listen to me." She gently took his chin in her hand, keeping her eyes locked on his...even though the demonic eye was unsettling, her expression and voice were steadfast. "You haven't lost everything. As I put before, you at least still have your life, and that's something to be more than grateful for. Thus you have a chance to find a way to take care of this darkness." Her gaze softened. "And you have friends. You have me. I made a promise back then to do what I can to help you, and dammit, I will still stand by it. Now that you're here."
The panthress let go of his chin, her palm and fingers brushing his cheek, before she let her hand fall slowly. There was still a tinge of warmth on her face...perhaps she had let her worry slip after all...? But she had her familiar smirk, as she reached for her drink. "I ain't afraid of no darkness. Push me away if you want, I'll just come back."
"That's unfortunate, as you aren't so bad." the wolf said, his eyes also passing over Aisha and Gareeku. He smiled as he continued. "And you are very nice to brave such dangers, then."
He continued watching Aisha and Gar for a moment before grabbing his cane and shaking his head, his gaze returning to the entrance of the club.
"Those two wouldn't fall if the floor was grease. They're much too high in the clouds."
The fox clapped his hands together. He nodded to the wolf.
"Well, I had a wonderful time at this club, but it's been a long day." He looked past her towards the dance floor. "It seems I'll only have time for one more dance tonight."
He reached into his pocket and extracted a wad of bills, which he tucked under his empty glass. Evidently, he was a
very generous tipper. He turned to Carey and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You're a good guy, Carey. Sorry things didn't work out between you and Richard," Edge smirked, "but there are many more fish in the sea. Just don't forget who the
real bad guys are."
He winked and pressed a folded cocktail napkin into the otter's hand. "Keep in touch, okay?"
+ + +
The atmosphere in the room had changed. Was that
fear on Stygian's face? Edge still couldn't quite sense the bat's presence empathically, couldn't quite drink in the sweet terror, but that facial expression alone was vicariously delectable.
It did not bode well for his survival, however.
With the tension between Stygian and Ashtaroth on the verge of boiling over, the jaguar stood, his heart beating in anticipation. The relaxed confidence he'd radiated upon entering had been sublimated by a mixture of excitement and concern. A touch of fear lay under the surface, buried so deep that it barely escaped his aura, but his face now bore a worried expression.
He stepped over to Keaton's chair. The Succubus didn't seem to be in control of her own body.
"Keaton, are you all right?"
Are you all right? Edge projected the thought directly at her, at the same time discretely probing the shields he'd examined barely an hour before, searching for any evidence that a psychic intrusion had been responsible for her current state.
There seemed to be nothing wrong with Keaton's mind shields at all at a first glance. Her shields didn't even seem to have been disturbed. There was the slightest hint of an opening in them, like the distance between two papers put on top of each other. But that was not something that didn't normally happen with shields and protection of that kind. This of course meant that either the jackal had made some sort of slip-up herself, or the lioness was even more skilled than she was powerful.
'
You brought them here?' Stygian said, incredulity in his voice. '
You're insane, Ashtareth.' The lioness responded with a barking laugh.
'
Things will work to our end, no matter what you do. It's pointless to resist, "Stygian",' she snarled at him, mocking his adopted title. '
You can't hide forever.'
The bat growled and turned. '
I'm not planning to hide. Not after this,' he said, and started for the door.
Something, a sweeping, fleeting thing, a distortion in the air like a ripple on water, swept out like a whiplash from Ashtareth's direction and past the two 'cubi, pushing them back. Stygian was hit by the thing at full force, and thrown face-first into the wall behind them, cracking the wallpaper.
- -
'Don't rush,' the wolf woman said all of a sudden, and something caught Richard by the leg before he could take another step, stopping him dead, no puns. 'I'm sorry, but I wasn't finished,' she continued, and angled her smile toward him. And when he saw the fangs he recognized her.
Ace.
The black fox almost stumbled when he was caught in a similar fashion, knocking a man with his elbow and making him spill his drink slightly. He started around angrily and was just about to say something, when the fox suddenly felt something sharp against his back, right under his scapula.
- -
In the shock that followed both Keaton and Edge seemed stunned somehow, dazzled by the suddenness of the attack. Things seemed hazy, almost unreal. Neither of them seemed to be able to move when Ashtareth stepped closer and raised her hand. Another wave passed through the air and Stygian was twisted around, pressed against the wall until it made an imprint and raised off the floor.
'
You're not going anywhere!' the lioness snarled, walking closer. She was flexing her claws. '
I've waited for centuries for this! The others might want to keep you alive, but I still have time to make you pay for what you did to me!' She passed a look between Keaton and Edge, and then grinned. The dizziness continued. And then, frighteningly quick and terrible to feel, a sensation like something crawling hit the both of them. It was as if something wormed itself in under their mind shields, burrowing through them like maggots, and right into their heads. Sickening at first, the sensation was quickly overwhelmed by a sort of numb, drunken pleasure, washing every coherent thought from their minds.
'
Step away, and I'll deal with you later,' Ashtareth said. And to their unwitting, part-conscious horror, the both 'cubi simply did, hardly hesitating. They just simply couldn't disobey, knowing somehow that no matter what they
had to. That they
would. And that their own personal opinions didn't even matter. The lioness simply grinned. '
This wi-'
A terrible, inhuman roar interjected, breaking her off. Something black took form, pushed back and rippling by the waves through the air, but still pressing forward. And then it rushed forward, knocking the lioness back. Another roar came, and Edge and Keaton realized that its source was Stygian, who had dropped to the floor. The bat's face was a horrid mask of fury, his fur paler, whiter somehow, but his eyes and teeth a deep, glossy black. He snarled, the knife-like teeth in his mouth parting, and then lunged.
Before Keaton and Edge knew what was happening, they too were leaping, trying to grab Stygian somehow. The bat threw them off like ragdolls, facing the shockwaves that were blasting him, one of them shredding his jacket as if it had been torn apart by claws.
'
You miserable...!' the lioness screamed. Then a black something swept out against her at a move from Stygian, while more things rushed around her, grabbed her, snared her legs. And then the bat was upon her, grabbing hold of her. The air was alive with ripples, black waves and a feeling and sound as if a hurricane was blowing around them.
'
You're dead, Ashtareth,' Stygian snarled in a split, horrid voice, knife-like teeth and a black tongue close to the lioness' face. Then he clasped his hands around her head.
For a second everything went dead still, and then something blasted out, throwing Stygian back yet again and harrying the room with doubled force. The windows were smashed out while the air rushed around and around like a tornado. The both 'cubi found themselves in control of themselves and uncomfortably sober, while glass shards flew, furniture moved, draperies shredded and a sound in their minds like a jet engine up close, except it was a scream, tore at them. Ashtareth was howling over it all, fallen to her knees on the floor and holding her bleeding head, crying and screaming, while sending out shockwaves that threatened to make the room collapse.
'
MOVE!' Stygian screamed at the both 'cubi, and ripped the door out, sending it flying and rushing past into the corridor.
- -
In a moment, things went from pleasant to total panic in the club. One second the band was playing, the guests were lounging and the only thing that the adventurers had to worry about was the wolfess who had intruded upon them. The next instant almost every single one of the attenders either grabbed their heads and sunk to the floor or began screaming and started running somewhere, knocking people over and aside. A pair of guards hurdled down the stairs and over the dance floor, heading for the back entry.
'What the Hell...?!' Ace began, and Carey stood up, tripping his chair.
Suddenly a table was hurled aside and a booth exploded as someone hurled a fireball. A shock passed through the crowd, and the next second everyone was screaming and heading for the exits.
Richard jerked to a halt. He tugged his leg once, twice-
"Don't rush," That voice... The zombie turned around.
Yeah. Ace.
"Fuck," he sighed, and reached for one of his unfinished drinks, "Shoulda known. Damn," He glanced down, quirking the half a left eyebrow he had remaining at the sight of the raised heel of her shoe firmly planted on his own foot, "Crude, but effective. Hope you don't screw up my muscles, that'd be a bitch to repair." He didn't look away during the clink of Edge spilling a drink and being accosted. Ace had his full attention. "Don't suppose I can finish my drinks first?"
And then the club went mad.
With a quick, sunken-eyed glare about his surroundings to get an idea of what was going on, Richard took advantage of the confusion to try to jerk his foot out from under Ace's, with mixed results. Damn, that's probably gonna need sutures later. Wanna keep that sorta thing to a minimum... Rather than use his newfound freedom to make for the exit, he took two smart steps back and was soon concealed by the panicked moving mass of the crowd. Wouldn't do to just leave Edge, would it? Wisps of fog curled around one hand as he tried to ready a spell...
Back in the dance hall, Kerya was considering her next moves. First of all, she had to talk to Sebastian again, after he finished his business. There were quite a few things she wanted... no, needed to ask him. That rabbit — what were those people with wings on their heads? How dangerous were they? Would she be attacked again if she met another one? And the very nature of magic was subtly different here: the local flows and pools were difficult to detect, but she could still touch and tap them to build up her own reserves of power. She had an alternative, of course, but that might have been considered impolite.
After a while, the little stoat noticed a certain tension in the air. Not far away, and therefore not nearly far enough away for comfort, something very old and very powerful was stirring. It made Kerya slightly nervous, even if it didn't feel like one of the Lesser Powers. She didn't even know if the banishment ritual would work here: she'd never tried it, for the obvious reasons. That was one spell she hoped never to see turn back on its caster. For that matter, she hoped she would never need to cast it herself. The tension continued to build, winding Kerya's nerves tighter and tighter, until...
... suddenly the hall full of people went completely mad. Kerya could hear screaming in her head, and she was almost sure it wasn't her. Some of the crowd collapsed, some ran about randomly. The little stoat swore and grabbed her staff, then jumped up onto the bar to see what was happening. Her lips moved silently for a moment, then a bubble of swirling colours surrounded her, the random iridescent blotches like a spattering of oil drops on a soap bubble. When the colours ran down and disappeared, Kerya stood there in a ready pose, clutching her staff in both hands. There seemed to be more light glinting off its silver decoration than the stage's spotlights could account for. Among the chaos in the middle of the hall, someone tossed a fireball. It sailed up in a lazy arc, then came down right on top of a booth, demolishing it. Kerya swore again. It was just a little too far away for her to cast a fire suppression spell: hopefully nothing would start burning too quickly.
The ballroom was in chaos. The fireball itself only exacerbated the panic: things rapidly went from bad to worse. People started flooding the exits, the panicking crowd trampling and pushing in a desperate attempt to get out. The bottlenecks became readily apparent, large knots of people stuck as the sheer mass of the rest of their fellow patrons kept them from getting out, getting safe. The general murmur of the crowd had long since risen into a roar, the horrific and deafening noise of a lot of people in a panic, punctuated by high-pitched screams.
Smoke rose from the remains of the booth, the handiwork of some overwrought mage. The smoke twisted and writhed high into the air, an acrid fume of burning paint and plastic that threatened to make nauseous anyone who breathed it even for a moment. It rose slowly, fanning out and heading for the ceiling, dissipating before it got to high, but rising higher every moment. The throng was too busy running for the exits to really pay attention to simple -smoke- rising into the air. Far more pressing concerns were distracting them. The desire to get out, the gut-wrenching and insidious feeling of mob panic was beginning to set it, and the cacophony grew louder.
This was a mistake. Someone was most certainly watching them. He breathed in the smoke without so much as flinching, his breathing slow and deep.
The general ambiance grew louder, the volume becoming painful to listen to. The crowd grew more aggressive, starting to push and to shove, when with incredibly and eerie clarity, the single snap of fingers permeated the Red Sands. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once, audible throughout the entire complex. It was...somehow loud, louder than even the murmur had been, although it still seemed soft in comparison to the harsh voices of the panicking people.
At that exact, moment, however, dead silence fell over the club, every one of the patrons struck dumb. Literally – a force, invisible and intangible, had shut the mouths of every person present. Some of the patrons rubbed their jaws, their mouths closed with a bit of force, and one man was trying to make a noise as he cradled his mouth, a bloody pipe clenched in his hands. The silence was palpable, and simply weird. The Red Sands was a place of noise and revelry, of music and dancing and drinking and energy. To see it suddenly rendered silent was almost more terrifying than the fireball had been. Despite their panic, everyone in the club stood still for a moment, confused by this sudden turn of events.
The next sound that they heard, though, sent chills up every one of their spines. High, and with hideous clarity, a single soprano voice cut through the silence, singing a single, high note that flowed and twisted in the air, a liquid voice that carried with its notes and words a sound like angels. It was like a knife in the still air, and the song carried with it a feeling of almost...sacredness, a stark contrast to the mostly sparsely-dressed patrons and scantily-clad servers. It seemed to make the air itself vibrate for a moment, the crystal tenor of the notes reaching a crescendo.
And suddenly it stopped. Everyone in the room jerked at once, reflexively, and then began searching for the source of the music. No-one seemed readily apparent.
They weren't looking in the right places.
"Good Evening!"
An amplified voice called out high above them, and as one the crowd's necks snapped upwards.
Laertes lowered a gold-glowing hand. The jackal stood upon the railing of the balcony, looking down upon the crowd, with the wings of his angel heritage spread out fully behind him. His hands seemed to ripple with a golden distortion, gold-colored energy running down each of them like a viscous liquid, even going to the point of dripping off the Jackal and splashing onto the floor. Gold-colored liquid ran down his wings as well, his entire form seemingly to rapidly suffuse with the stuff, and over his robe and even over his face the jackal's body spiderwebbing with the flowing, liquid stuff. He tapped a rod gripped in his left hand onto the marble railing.
Attached the rod was a scythe, large, wicked and black as sin, the edge glimmering and the tip dripping golden energy. Raising it up and whipping it to the side, holy magic flicking off the thing like lava erupting from a volcano, the Jackal looked over the crowed with an almost wicked grin as he let pulled the scythe back into a ready position, the glow on the Jackal intensifying by the moment.
"I AM LOOKING FOR STYGIAN DON'CHEL" the Angel said, his voice magically amplified. His eyes took on the same, golden tint as the rest of the energy around him. "YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE TO LEAVE. IF YOU ARE STILL HERE, IT WILL BE ASSUMED YOU ARE WITH HIM."
There was dead silence for a moment as the crowd started at the glowing image of death in front of them, the angel that dripped holy magic. There was silence for a good five seconds before the first person screamed.
From there, it was real panic.
...Keaton:As disarmed as she had been when she was stripped of her disguise and flung back into her standard form, and as shocked as she was when she saw Stygian thrown across the room like a haggard ragdoll by that wicked lioness, Keaton still found herself inexorably frozen in place where she was; bones petrified in icy blood and muscles of stone sandwiching jagged veins like tree roots in her thunderstruck form. Only did Keaton react when she was commanded to step backwards, her body unwittingly responding to that succinctly-barked order, Edge following suit beside her--but even then she realized at that moment that no action of her body was voluntary.
She was a prisoner in her own body, mind locked in stunned stasis as her physical form obeyed Ashtoreth's demands like a marionette, pouncing upon the transmogrified bat only to be shunted away and knocked off to the side, where she rolled and rolled until she regained control of her form. Wide eyes watched with indignation and shock as the once-handsome bat had transmogrified into a bastardized brethren of his former self; alabaster draining from his body in a strange, monochromatic mixture of exsanguinous ivory and wretched ebony. If she weren't petrified by shock as things spiraled uncontrollably out of her grasp, Keaton would've been appalled.
But instead she saw liberation when Stygian, through a sequence of events shifting too fast for her to comprehend, reduced the room around her into a spiraling, razorbladed dervish of wind and floating furniture. Formerly expensive and luxurious designs and decorations had been upended, dumped and strewn across the shredded floor, chunks of the jackalesque statues were tossed about the room, and the four-poster bed was just a collapsed skeleton. Nothing was left spared by this whirlwind other than Keaton, Edge, and Stygian himself, perhaps with the exception of Ashtoreth, who was crying and clutching at her bleeding head.
Good fuckin' riddance.
Keaton knew better than to dismiss Stygian's order. Once he had liberated the door of its hinges and swept it away like an errant leaf, Keaton wasted no time in running out of the room.
---
...Deirdre:First thing Deirdre was aware of was her intermittently rearranging her attention to and away from the suspicious characters seated behind her, their banter never ceasing despite the frequent reappearances of the zebra. In order to keep her eavesdropping from being too conspicuous, she continued to gingerly nurse her quickly-depleting drink until she was suckling away the meager dewdrops clinging to the interior of the glass, self-consciously observing the light shimmering off each individual spore of fluid from the acrid lighting. Adventurers weren't probably renowned for their stealthy tactics, but for what Deirdre lacked in that sort of department she compensated for in basic common sense.
Then an equally suspicious, seductive lady joined the fray; a sleek wolf who strutted right by with an air of both sensuality and grace, a countenance maintained even when she was casually regarding the Undead, the fox, and the otter. Deirdre raised an eyebrow slightly, wondering why other people weren't concerned by this increasing gathering...
But that thought petered out of fruition when she saw the attendant walking nearby scream and drop to his knees, clutching his head. Before Deirdre could vociferate her surprise at this she realized, from the sudden crescendo of moans and groans, that the same had occurred among the rest of that attendant's cohorts. Reminiscent of a swarming disease being whisked throughout a barren, scathing desert, the same utter discord swept from person to person, corrupting every inhabitant of the club: those who were jovially conversing with one other were now abandoning one another as they scrambled for safety amidst the stampeding throng, those who were dancing were now on the ground, and the bandmembers who were thoroughly entertaining their audience had succumbed to the same invisible madness which had stricken the Red Sands.
It was absolute insanity.
"What the
HELL?!" Deirdre screamed, leaping from her chair.
No longer did she care about the mysteriously familiar Doberman from before or the handcuffed Undead. Right now her instinctive Adventurer training combined with her altruism grappled bodily with her animalistic urge to
flee the havoc which had gripped the chamber, although this mental wrestling of those fractions didn't last for long. She, too, had noticed the fireball arch through the air and explode upon a booth, reducing it to flint and tinder within an upswell of spiraling fire.
This wasn't the first time Deirdre had been trapped in such a chaotic situation. It wouldn't be the last. But that didn't make this any less horrifying.
Punctuated by the crystal-clear snapping of fingers, there was silence, absolute silence, eerie and yet strangely less preferable to the writhing panicking mass that the once-ostentatious club was in its death throes. Then came that hauntingly sonorous chanting, that utterance of divine devotion, as its harbinger spoke from atop the balcony, voice resonating throughout the hall. Sulphur-hued eyes widened like electric-yellow discs in Deirdre's skull as she observed that who he was from afar--she couldn't see much of him, her vision being restricted by those accused cataracts, but she thought, for the span of a second, that she could see
wings spread from the sable-furred blur.
Were Deirdre in any way a religious person, she would've assumed, in her panic, that it was the work of God.
But the words he spoke were far from pious. Threatening, terrifying. Deirdre cursed loudly as the first person screamed, the rest reacting in clockwork order, each individual screeching aloud before they began their tumultuous tidal wave towards the nearest exits. Considering the natural state of panic, nobody bothered to remember anything about safety procedures or protocol. All that mattered was life, death, and survival.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Howls of rage echoed throughout the jungle, raining down from everywhere at once. In the dark, starless sky, a shimmering rift of crimson and violet watched over the land like an unblinking eye, bathing it in eerie twilight. Perched atop a pyramid of polished obsidian, six shadows in jaguar form felt their master's anguish and added their own voices to the chorus.
She dares trespass here!
Like a thief in the night, the bitch had slipped through his shields and bypassed his traps to commit the ultimate, unforgivable crime: She had stolen his free will. Find her. Eliminate her.
The shadows raced down the pyramid and scattered into the forest. Hunting. Where they stepped, indistinct figures of Beings and Creatures--faces locked in silent screams--flickered across the black, mirrorlike surface of the temple. Tezkat reached out to caress them, comforted by the warmth of their soul energy. Brilliant indigo auroras danced across the sky as he drew upon their power to reinforce the walls guarding his minds.
+ + +
Edge blinked, reeling from the psychic assault. The jaguar had reflexively rolled to his feet and into a combat-ready crouch after the bat tossed him off. Whatever Stygian did to Ashtareth had severed her control over him. Edge allowed himself a brief smile. Her pain, far too intense for him to absorb, was nonetheless deliciously well-deserved.
He still couldn't move. Though his body and mind were his own once more, he stared transfixed at the tantalizing display of power. Every one of his senses focused on the awesome play of magic and energy cascading through the room.
+ + +
The fox froze when the blade touched his back. Quite unexpectedly, he simply went limp and collapsed to the ground. He lay motionless for a while, staring lifelessly into space.
Without warning, he sprang back to life. He leapt to his feet faster than any Being--indeed, most Creatures--should have been able to move and spun to face his assailant. Twin blades of pure darkness wreathed in a misty purple aura extended from his hands. No sign of Edge's cool, calm intelligence graced his eyes. They were dark, feral, and suffused with a killing intent tangible even to non-empaths. Like a wild animal, he looked ready to lash out at anything within reach. Licking his lips, he cocked his head and regarded the two Adventurers with a frighteningly hungry expression.
+ + +
"MOVE!"The jaguar blinked. Stygian's voice jarred him back to the reality of his situation. He moved. Blurring into motion, Edge cleared the entire distance to the hallway in a single bound. He skidded to a halt, ready to pounce again. His eyes darted left and right, on guard for anyone foolish enough to block their escape. He rose, and...
Suddenly, he gasped and threw his head back.
Ecstasy.Droplets of dark mist bled from Edge's body and pooled in midair. They coalesced into a serpentine form that circled around him, slicing through the air to shield him from the buffeting winds and debris. Club warding be damned. The emotional background had been energizing before, but this much concentrated panic and terror felt like being plugged into the sun. It flowed over him. Through him. It begged to be used.
Edge stood in the eye of the storm and turned back to the suite.
"Your jackal friend made his move." His voice carried clearly over the wind. "Are you going to finish her?"
+ + +
The wild-eyed fox blinked. The feral glaze began to drain from his eyes. He looked down at the shadowy blades protruding from his hands, almost as if surprised to see them. He laughed out loud.
"Bloody mentalists." He shook his head. Then he glanced up. "Oh my, Carey. Is that your boss? Someone should tell him that it isn't nice to blow up bars full of people."
Instead of a direct answer, the 'cubi received a raking swat to his left cheek, Stygian's black-clawed hand a blur in movement and his still twisted face snarling. Black, veiny lines were just slightly visible around his eyes.
'
Snap out of it you bloody thing!' the bat growled at him, and then twisted around, dashing down the hallway at an unnatural speed. One of the muscled guards they had seen before turned a corner and ran against him like a charging bull, a massive weight of rippling muscle and tendons, holding two large, curved blades in his hands. He leaped against the bat, graceful as an athlete in routine as he swept the blades around, and was then hurled heavily into a wall by a black burst of something from a sweep of Stygian's hand, as the bat dove to the side and under him, passing him with speed. The lion dropped listlessly to the floor, bleeding profusely from the chest.
'
We don't have time to finish her! We have to get away!' Stygian snarled back at Edge and Keaton, his voice hurried and distant. More people were hurtling toward them down the corridors, and they could hear screams from everywhere. '
Before the real danger starts!'
- -
The wolfess and otter both stood and looked at Laertes' shining apparition before and above him as if they couldn't quite believe their eyes. At least Ace looked as if she thought the jackal must have gone insane. She brought her guard up at the sight of the fox's moves and his look, then was confused when he so quickly changed behavior. And in the maddening chaos around them, it was all just too much.
Snorting and growling with irritation, Ace grabbed the table just as Carey vaulted over the railing down onto the terrace below, and swept it out and around with frightening speed, knocking the others over and hitting the fox head on, sending him sprawling. In her free hand she was already holding an alarmingly large knife, produced from out of nowhere.
Another fireball hit the floor, though fortunately it missed roasting any panicked guests. Flames were already starting to climb along one of the walls from the blasted booth from before. The next second a body was hurled across the room like a champagne cork by a surge of magic, and then three guards, one a scarcely dressed but muscular wildebeest and two snakelike mythoses were advancing on the adventurers, magic crackling at their fingertips. One fired a venomously green bolt of some kind against them, sizzling with malevolent energy.
The crowd was already dispersing as Laertes dripped with energy and nearby mages powers ran amok. Richard stepped forward again, his flash freeze spell ready in one hand that he slapped to Ace's shoulder...
Whereupon the spell fizzled and died with a puff like the smallest piece of dry ice. Some sort of magic immunity. For a split second, all the zombie could do was stare in shock.
"Well damn." Then, realizing the element of surprise didn't last forever, he changed tactics and aimed a punch at the woman's stomach.
Kerya still couldn't see what was happening in most of the hall clearly enough to decide what to do. If anything, the chaos was getting worse, people running in all directions, the din of screaming and crashing of collapsing furniture filling her ears. She ran along the bar, hoping for a better vantage point. There were still too many damnably tall people in front of her...
snap
Her ears flicked back as some influence gripped everyone she could see, clamping their jaws shut and cutting off any noise they could make. Her own muzzle ached: she'd been just about to shout a question over her shoulder to the bartender. Then the... singing, for want of a better word, started. It sent a shiver through her body from whiskers to tailtip, and something about it reacted with her shield, causing the bubble of iridescent colours surrounding the little stoat to reappear faintly. In the silence after it abruptly stopped, she gasped and stuck a finger in one ear, wiggling it about. A golden gleam caught her eye from high up in the hall, just before a thundrous voice spoke. Kerya bared her fangs in a silent snarl as the glowing jackal — with wings? — made his proclamation from the balcony. Stupid, she thought, unless a massive panic is just what he wants. What could he be wanting to distract attention from? Sure enough, moments after the jackal stopped speaking and flourished his scythe panic erupted all over the hall, worse than before, as everyone figured out his threat.
Mount that idiot! Kerya thought furiously. What in the Other's name does he intend? She made a throwing motion towards the exits, and a constellation of glowing spheres flared from her clawtips. They flew across the hall, brightening as they went, then went into crawling follow-me patterns over the doors. Even if the lights went out, at least everyone would still be able to see where to go to escape. Then... to the hells with impolite. She reached out to one of the pools of magic she'd noticed earlier with a transference spell, and drained a portion of its essence into her staff. If this situation turned out as badly as she feared, she'd need every bit of power she could scrape together. Whoever this Stygian Don'chel was, he might need help.
Mel and Cog had just arrived back at the bar when life got back to normal. The bar exploded into sound and motion with screams and dashing about. Then a fireball whistled past. Mel had to force her panic down. She hated hated hated fire. Just as she threw up a shield big enough to cover both her and Cog standing beside her a freakish silence descended and a scale-rufflingly high pitched music began. An angel popped up on the highest balcony and made a dramatic display of himself. "Showboater," the dragon muttered as a panicked crush clogged all the aisles to get away from the glowing mage. The magic users in the stampede began throwing spells about in a careless manner, making the club even more of a deathtrap.
As the few not running the bouncers easily singled their group out. A mythos tossed a nasty looking poison-green spell at them. While she had an idea what it was Mel had no urge to find out if she was right so she returned a spell of her own. A cone of magic encircled the globe of green, allowing the energy of the spell to only return back into the face of the caster and his two companions unless he negated it. As Mel threw her shield back up in case the spell was stronger than she believed she noticed a little mage standing on the nearby bar.
Richard didn't feel anything. But he could still judge that his punch had hit. It threw him off balance how quickly it had stopped though. It was all he managed, before Ace spun around and delivered a kick to the undead's chest that sent him flying backwards.
Suddenly the magic suppression field encompassing the building wavered, something seeking it out and draining vital components of the spell. While it had been held in place by a physical object, notably the 'timepiece' contraption in Ashtareth's room, that certain item was now almost destroyed. Kerya's intervention was just enough to break the fractured contraption.
Something in the air snapped, and the ferret felt a violent backlash as the magic leaped out and toward her grasp, while simultaneously the whole anti-magical field was obliterated, leaving nothing but wild curdles and surges alive, like shattered pieces of a stained glass window leaping out and melting mid-air. The spell that Mel had rebounded against the mythos guard was wrought completely out of shape, and the man didn't even have the time before the globule of light struck him. He twitched and glowed for an instant, emitted a slight flash, and then turned into a fire hydrant that fell rolling to the floor. Curls and twirling, ghastly glowing bands of distortion swirled in the air. The other two guards stopped and watched the proceedings, gaping.
Then there came a violent smash from the other end of the room. A door flew out, knocking a woman over and toppling a table. Stygian emerged from the back entry, his white jacket a torn mess and stained red with the same blood that was dripping from his now almost foot-long black claws, and gazed around at the chaos. His eyes were immediately drawn to the hovering angel above.
Laertes grinned.
The jackal could care less about most of those who had gathered to simply enjoy the festivity of the club. He certainly had no interest in killing any of them, one minute time limit or no. But they were certainly accomplishing their purpose. The crowd was already clogging the entrance, making a quick escape nearly impossible, and those who weren't running stuck out quite well. The priest raised an eyebrow, his eye passing over the little wolf – finding him in Haszal had certainly been a surprise, although he wasn't quite sure how that changed anything. He was sitting inside a bubble of magic next to a spellcasting silver fox – he wasn't quite sure if that changed anything either.
He saw Ashtareth's errand-boy snarling out at Ace, who was busy sending that undead musician person, Richard, flying with a kick. Laertes grinned again, shaking his head. Bits of holy light shook off of the Jackal as he did so, the flecked, golden energy sluicing off in little droplets.
Although deceptively still-looking, the holy energy was always moving, creating ever-changing patterns upon the angel's body. It ran in lines and then runes down the angel's wings, dripping off the pinion feathers and coloring the black things a mixture of black-and-gold that was always shifting places. It ran down his body as well, flowing over his red robe and what was shown of his upper body, creating strange symbols and patterns that constantly changed. It seemed to give the angel a constantly moving appearance, even as he stood still. The only portions of the priest that were completely covered by the energy were his hands, gloves of holy energy covering them.
His eyes scanned around the room, the orbs again glowing that glassy purple when he finally saw him. Bursting through the door to the private rooms and fairly covered in blood was that...heretic. That corrupter of what was rightfully God's, that usurper of divine power. He stumbled into the chaos that was the main room of the Red Sands, looking a bit worse for the wear, and a bit tired.
Which is what the Jackal had hoped for.
The Angel brought the scythe to his side, and with a light tap on the balcony railing with his foot he floated just a bit into the air with almost surreal slowness. With a flap of his wings, he seemed to level off, pausing in midair, and with yet another flap of his wings he rose, truly flying. Flecks of magic flew off the jackal as he did so, splashing as they fell to the ground. He rose until he was out of arms reach from the balcony, using both his wings and levitation to stay there.
Laertes grinned again, baring startlingly white fangs.
"Abomination." the angel said, his voice low. He stared at the bat silently a moment before grinning even wider, and laughed to himself. He brought one gold-covered hand forward, palm-up, and in that same high, soprano voice began to chant again. At first, it was only the angel's voice chanting, the arcane syllables rolling smoothly off his tongue. As the jackal continued, however, the syllables began to echo – the Red Sands was certainly not designed for such acoustics in mind, and as the Jackal continued, the volume only seemed to increase, until it sounded like dozens of singers chanted along with the angel, the sound cacophonous in its dissonance and volume. Above Laertes's palm, a blue, static ring formed, and then another, both of them linking together like a chain before being joined by yet a third and a fourth, the rings multiplying rapidly above the priest's hand into a fair ball of blue, glowing rings.
The Jackal stopped, the noise dying instantly, and crushing the rings in his palm he reared back and thew them, the angel slowing right at the apex of his swing before the twisted and broken rings shot out of his hand. Mid-air, they simply transformed into a distortion of air, the sound of the chanting immediately returning full-force as a concentrated blast of sound clawed its way towards the bat. Even at a distance, it made cups and bottles rattle, and the skylight above, as far as it was, made an atrocious noise as the glass vibrated violently against its iron frame. Nearer to the wave, glass simply broke, bottles and glasses breaking, and a light fixture hanging from the ceiling simply shattered as the wave flowed through it.
The cone headed for the newly-broken doorway, straight at the blood-covered bat.
Even as his spell flew, the Jackal rested his scythe on his opposite shoulder, the polearm weapon crossing his body as he wrote in the air with a gold-wrought hand, letters of liquid light taking shape as the priest began his next spell...
Ace's kick knocked the wind out of the dead man. Fortunately, he wasn't really using it anyway. Richard crashed into one of the few as of yet undamaged tables and scrabbled back to his feet, not noticing as the magic suppression field dissolved under Kerya's skillful interference. Alright, she can probably beat me hand to hand, the musician thought, thinking hard about what few experiences in this sort of thing he'd had, And magic didn't work. So...
Guess I'll have to wing it. Richard grabbed up a nearby chair and took a swing at Ace with it, his usually grim features twisted yet further into a snarl. He needed her down so he and Edge could stand a chance of making a break for it.
Listening to Aisha's words, Gareeku looked into her eyes as she spoke to him, feeling the soft touch of her hand on his chin. Every word she said seemed to take a bit of the pain, the loneliness, away. Hearing her declaration that she would be there for him no matter what, the wolf smiled slightly.
"Thank you, Aisha..." he said softly as he looked at her, while unconsciously his hand softly touched her cheek. "I don't know what I would do without you..."
Then, it happened. The barman suddenly clutched at his head, crying out in pain as he fell to his knees. Snapping out of his gaze, Gareeku turned his attention towards the barman, raising an eyebrow as he observed what must have been the absolutely incredible pain that he was going through.
Nor was the barman the only one that seemed to be suffering, either. Looking around the club, the wolf saw that all the members of staff that worked in the building seemed to be affected by the same condition, clutching at their heads and screaming.
And then, the utter chaos set in...
Screams of terror suddenly filled the club, transforming the atmosphere from what was one of ecstasy and exhiliration to one of panic and fear. Terror-stricken people ran in all directions, frantically trying to escape the sudden madness that had swept across the club. Everywhere he looked, Gareeku could only see the expressions of terror on the varied faces in the club.
Then, as sudden as it had began, the screams of terror were silenced. Not a sound was made as Gareeku looked around, thoroughly confused. It was then, however, that the angel made his appearence. Looking at the figure with narrowed eyes, the wolf went to reach for his sword, but then realised that he did not have it with him.
"Fuck." the wolf cursed. Backflipping up onto the bar, Gareeku looked around at the pandemonium in the club, trying to figure what the hell was going on.
She didn't know what impact her words would have on the wolf...whether he would accept them or not...but when his smile returned, even if it was a slight one, she couldn't help but be happy again. His words reached her mind and made her face warm once more, and she cast a smile back. It was true; she would be there for him, always.
It was a mind-shattering scream that suddenly broke through their concentration...and then it happened, faster than anyone in the club could hope to register. The attenders and workers fell to the ground, clutching their heads. The guests, distracted from the music, were stricken with confusion and horror. Aisha pinned her ears, looking out as she wondered what was going on. The hell...?
And then a fireball hurtled through the air, striking one of the booths. That was the switch to start the chaos. The guests exploded in a fury of fear and panic in an instant, all rushing to the closest exits. "Shit!" Aisha growled as she jumped out of the way of the runners, landing on the bar top and tossing a few glasses off in the process. She shielded her head as people screamed and rushed, and things were thrown. And all the while, there was a scowl on her features. I knew it! I KNEW it! She inwardly cursed. Does EVERY bar we visit have to be attacked? Aisha by now was starting to thoroughly regret being associated with Stygian's plan. It was easy to assume he was a part of it.
Much easier so, in fact, when they observed the crowd suddenly go into a dead silence. Aisha thought she caught the sound of snapping fingers...and then they craned their necks up to see...an Angel? The panthress also had a look of thorough confusion. But she clenched her teeth at his announcement. Stygian. Dammit. And that's when chaos broke out again, magic thrown in various places and people running, threatening to once again make another building crumble.
Aisha growled, her pulse rushing. There was more than likely going to be another fight...and neither she nor Gareeku had their weapons. Aisha felt quite uncomfortable again, especially because she could not cast magic of her own. Should they stay and condemn themselves? Leave and let Stygian solve his own problem? The latter option was looking better by the second. But...
"Gareeku!" She hissed through the noise. "We should get the hell out of here, at least to get better prepared. I'm going to get my blades back. I can get yours, or you can come with me." The panthress peered out of the bar over the slowly dwindling amount of rushing people...she hoped that their friends weren't too caught up in this chaos, wherever they were. And then, she jumped out among them, rushing for an exit.
Edge rubbed his cheek and made a pouty face. The glowing black serpent dissolved into a fine mist around him.
"Aw. You never let me have any fun."
But the bat was already halfway down the corridor back to the main hall. The jaguar smirked. For someone intent on avoiding danger, Stygian was certainly running in the wrong direction. Edge took one last glance at the injured lioness.
+ + +
Don't even think about it.
I know. I know. But it was such a waste to leave her. The things one could do with soul energy like that...+ + +
The fox crossed his arms to block the table as it impacted his body and sent him flying. In mid-air, it occurred to him that he had missed a chance to slice through it and strike at Ace while her guard was down. He tucked into a roll just before hitting the ground and then extended his arms to cartwheel up onto the terrace railing.
He squatted, balanced on the railing, and watched her send Richard flying with a kick. The wolf girl had skills. While he'd have no problems matching her speed, the fox would need the attention of Edge's keen tactical mind to dispatch her efficiently. Nonetheless, if it came to that, he was expendable. Some of the earlier bloodlust returned to his eyes. He launched himself at her.
+ + +
They're fighting in the main hall. Edge thought out loud while Keaton was close enough to overhear.
Edge needed a safe base of operations. In its current condition, this building didn't fit the bill. The shattered windows of the lioness's suite offered the shortest path to the outside, but Ashtareth was still conscious and, therefore, still a threat. Until he could figure out how she had breached his minds and develop an appropriate counter, approaching her again constituted a pointless risk.
The panther took off down the hallway. The bat had conveniently cleared the way for them, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. Edge recalled the layout of the building, mentally positioning himself with ease. By now, the exit doors would be clogged with fleeing patrons. While they would provide cover, he needed efficiency more than stealth.
He stopped in front of a door to private rooms on the outer edge of the building. They would have windows. Or, at worst, walls. A shimmering blur of violet and black lashed out of his body. The razor-sharp tendrils came to rest after a network of crisscrossed lines appeared across the door's surface. It shuddered and fell to the ground in dozens of small pieces.
+ + +
Did you feel that?
Ch-Yah! It's like the club's warding field just came crashing down.
Does that mean you can warp in and out now?
I... I think so.
Well... that gives us a few more options. The others didn't exactly bother planning a proper exit strategy.
+ + +
Sailing through the air, the vulpine Edge had only a split second to analyze the situation. The wolf was fast, skilled in close combat, and had a very large knife. The fox had blades, too. Not quite the style that normally fit his disguise--they'd been a reflexive response while he'd been preoccupied with Ashtareth--but it was a bit late to worry about that. Besides, they looked magical enough to get away with a few tricks.
The black fox flipped over and planted a shadowy blade into the floor, instantly halting his flight and converting its momentum into a spin. His other blade--almost an extension of his hand--snaked out into a dark whip several meters long. It sliced through tables and chairs without slowing. The characteristic crack of its tip breaking the sound barrier shrieked out as it curled back, threatening to take the wolf's legs off at the knees.
For a second the wolfess only stood, very nearly taking both attacks head-on. But there was something to the slight angle to her knees, the coiled look to her stance. Tendons strained for a short instant. And then she made a maneuver that seemed almost impossible. Kicking back and around with a foot, she threw her hand out and blocked Richard's chair, which shattered upon impact with her clenched fist and wrist, and simultaneously performed a backwards gainer flip without any preparation at all, making the fox's attack miss and only nick the edge of her dress. And then, quite alarmingly, when she came down she had a sword in her free hand. A sword
quite too large to be hidden in that dress.
The acrobatic oddity and the suddenness of it all shocked both Richard and Edge, and things certainly didn't become better after that, as the wolf threw the knife like an arrow against the undead and then leaped to cut off the black blade from his hand, and then move against him.
Then, suddenly, the clone copy, for that was surely what it was, was summarily beheaded by a rather huge spinning blade from the side. While 'Edge' had been distracted by Ace, Carey had taken the time to activate a rune on his own weapon, a four-bladed cross, almost like a giant shuriken, and retrieved it magically. Spinning the weapon expertly around his hand by the ring in the middle and then halting it instantly, the otter dropped to his feet in a ready combat stance, smirking.
- -
The door held up for a second because of the perfect fit of the pieces. But then it toppled top down, and fell like a shattered jigsaw to the floor. In the room behind, three sets of confused eyes met Edge's. One woman, a parrot and obviously a guest, was standing by a window and seemed to have just turned around, covering her bare top with her arms with a look of shock on her face. The other were a pair of attendants, a woman and a muscular guard, both of whom seemed as confused.
'What...?!' the bird began, and the female attender started on an irritated scowl. Then, suddenly, her face grimaced as if in pain and her eyes rolled back. Something pressed out between her teeth, forcing her jaws apart and then making them snap as the tendons gave way and her throat and mouth stretched to grotesque proportions. A colorless, almost transparent shape of something pushed out between her distending lips as if her face were some sort of rubbery mask. She raised her hands halfway to her head, shaking uncontrollably and sagging down on the floor, while the thing emerged from her as if from a costume and with snaking movements began taking shape.
The thing that faced the shocked Incubus finally settled on a humanoid, vague and floating shape with tendrilous ends to its extremities and a swirling mane of tentacle-like 'hair'. It was entirely transparent, save the slight glow it seemed to give off, and its contours and the way it bent the light through it like thin glass or water, and its eyes which were a pair of flaring azure points in its face. These narrowed as the ghostlike creature, whatever it was, opened its jaws to reveal needle-like teeth and make some sort of almost singing sound. Leaving the discarded body of the attending woman behind, it floated against Edge, reaching for him. The guard next to the panther dropped his sword and gave a most unmanly cry, backing up against the wall.
- -
On the other end of the floor, Stygian looked up at Laertes with a grimace of despise as the Angel floated against him. '
Hypocrite,' he hissed in response to the jackal's taunt. But the man had already commenced some sort of holy spell, and before Stygian even had an attack plan he was forced to defend himself. In an instant, a shadowy burst of something tore out from his back, and then formed two large black wings that immediately changed shape and flowed out before him, forming a semispherical, shield-like surface of the utmost dark with tendrilous edges.
The violent vocal spell hit the bat hard. Stygian clasped his hands over his ears, roaring. Though his shoes were rough-soled he was pressed backwards across the floor, scraping it. Yet he didn't seem to strain against the spell. In fact, in the middle of it, the bat himself raised his voice, and split the sounds around with a howling note of his own. It harmonized with the jackal's, before the bat stretched his hands forward, and more darkness flowed out over them. The black shield struck through and broke the shockwaves, and was then turned into a huge, maw-like shape, a wyrm-like head with flaring points for eyes and rows upon rows of jagged teeth, heading for the Angel. More darkness spewed out to the sides, taking other grotesque and feral shapes as they flowed like water against Laertes, their teeth glistening and eyes burning.
Richard swore as the hurled knife buried itself in his chest. Muttering about how it was his favorite shirt he yanked it out with a shredding noise-
And then, insofar as the senses could ascertain, Carey killed Edge. Probably the one individual still around who he'd taken any sort of liking to. The zombie clutched the knife until his knuckles cracked.
"So, magic weapons..." Richard looked at the enemies before him... Lets see, a shurikan and a sword. Never fails, they're so damn loath to modernize... "Hell, not even the blades themselves are enchanted I'll bet, it's just a summoning spell to get around security." The dead man cackled to himself, "C'mon, Carey, you're coming after me with fucking Power Ranger weapons? Pathetic." Go on, I'm making you mad, here's hoping you stick to the script and do something appropriately stupid... The musician readied a spell behind his back, and held the knife ready to fight with. It wasn't an entirely unfamiliar weapon.
A ruffle in her fur was the only warning Kerya got, as she completed the transfer of power. A magical field permeating the hall, that hadn't been detectable before, suddenly flared and twisted, a line of distortion leaping through the side wall and plunging straight towards her. The little stoat barely had time to concentrate on stiffening her shield before its entire front face blazed with rainbow light as the distortion hit. She flew back through the air, flattening the bartender who'd been edging nervously away from her, and the back of her shield smashed across the display of bottles and odd little concoctions laid out on glass shelves behind the bar.
"Ouch... A reminder, Ker, don't do that again," she muttered as she scrambled dizzily to her feet among the wreckage, propping herself up with her staff, and looked over the edge of the bar. A short distance away, the silver vixen she'd seen before turned out to be another mage. She'd deflected a spell thrown at her, but Kerya couldn't see what happened as the virulent-looking green haze corkscrewed back where it had come from. And the vixen wasn't the only one not running like headless lizards: the wolves and jaguar accompanying her also stood their ground. They seemed to be unarmed, though. Kerya hoped they had some sort of plan, or hidden weapons, or something useful up their sleeves.
A flash of white caught her eye from the far end of the hall. Something had crashed through one of the doors back there, something that turned out to be Sebastian, rather the worse for wear and spattered with blood. The winged jackal tossed a disruption spell of some sort down at the bat, its screeching racket audible even over the noise of the panicking crowd. Sebastian's counter was even more painful to her ears. Kerya scrambled on to the bar and ran back towards the vixen and her friends, although she noticed one of them, the jaguar, had vanished.
"You three!" she called as she came close enough to be heard. "Are you with Sebastian, or are you just standing about with targets on your backs?"
Listening to Aisha talk to him through the noise of the crowd, Gareeku grimaced.
"I know!" the wolf called back. It was then, however, that Aisha suddenly disappeared into the crowd. "God-damn it! Aisha! Wait!"
Suddenly a voice called to him from the side. Looking to see who it was, Gareeku found it to be that of a stoat; namely someone who he hadn't met before. Hearing her mention the name "Sebastian", Gareeku assumed that she ment Stygian.
"Unfortunately, both." the wolf replied, turning his attention back to the chaos, before suddenly leaping into the crowd, trying to make his way after Aisha. "...Fucking hell..."
"Agh! Dammit!" Aisha swore loudly, her voice easily lost in the crowd's ear-shattering voices. She thought that she had found a spot to easily go through, the people dwindling, but apparently there was still a lot of shoving to do. She was jostled between several bodies, which she was forced to shove out of the way while she followed the raging river of people to an exit. The panthress hated to be in the middle of such a rush, especially if there was a chance of being trampled...but if it meant leaving, so be it. The people were only acting on instinct.
At one point, an exit did come into view, marked with glowing letters. However, much like she figured all of the doors were, it was cramped with people, often climbing over each other in an escape for their lives. While looking for a good way to go herself, someone had jabbed her in the back. She growled, and eyed the now-open exit between the rim of the door and the level of heads. Alright, there's no time for courtesy.
Then, one of Aisha's elbows jammed into the midsection of the guy who had last pushed her, causing him to double over. In a swift movement she jumped on his back, used it for a spring, and sailed to the door, gripping the edge of the narrow rim and swinging outward, her feet held up so as not to kick anyone else in the head. However, while she was in midair, by chance she caught one familiar voice shouting her name. Gareeku?
The panthress landed hard on the concrete outside of the club, ducking out of the way as more people rushed out. She stood against the wall, catching her breath, until she caught the owner of the voice rushing out of the door.
"Hey!" she called, grinning toward the white wolf, somewhat apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't think there were so many left." She then started scanning about for the direction that the coffee shop lay in. They had to get their things back, quickly, and hope that the building wouldn't be burned down in the process. "We should hurry."
Mel watched the angel jackal call up and release a complex shockwave spell against Ignatz and the bat's response. She simultaneously realized that Aisha and Gareeku were taking off for the cloakroom and their weapons. She wished them luck getting through the crowd near the exits where the cloakroom stood.
She decided that the most immediate concern was the angel. He was concentrating almost entirely on Ignatz. A pale blue glow over her hand twisted and sparked and formed itself into a shape much like a lance that glittered as if covered with prisms. A faint fog fell off it as glacial cold met the overheated club air. With a seemingly gentle movement the lance flew as if thrown by a champion spearman towards the hovering angel.
Her spell cast and her next begun Mel spared a glance to the stoat on the bar, "What was the question again?"
The wave of sound broke upon the bat, Stygian's wings of darkness shielding him from the blast and deflecting it to the sides of him. The wave tore into the ground instead, leaving little paths of destruction on either side as the bat roared. Stygian's howl harmonized with the shockwave, and simply shrugging off the blow he launched his darkness at the Angel flying above. A dragon with a gnashing maw and tendrils of darkness snaked for the jackal, intent on plucking him out of the sky.
As Laertes watched his attack upon the demon break to seemingly no effect, the Angel grinned a bit wider, and when the bat sent his dragon and his darkness at him, the Jackal's grin turned savage. His purple eyes practically danced as he continued to write in the air, the symbols and flowing runes written with nothing but liquid light. With a final dash the angel finished, the golden letters forming two lines of script in total. He passed a golden hand through them, the runes flashing solid for just a moment before disappearing completely.
The effect of the Jackal's spell wasn't instantaneous – the snarling dragon and those dark tentacles were practically upon him, one snaking appendage even managing to wrap itself around Laertes's ankle. Upon touching the liquid light that ran down his body, however, the tendril of darkness seemed to vibrate a moment before fragmenting into smaller pieces of shadow, passing through the angel's ankle and reforming on the other side.
It was to no effect – with starling speed an arc of the clearest crystal-blue was shorn into the air in front of the Jackal, creating a horrible tearing sound, and another blue arc extended beneath that one, and another after that. A circle of arcs was drawn in the air in front of him, long lines that crossed and even penetrated into the darkness coming for the hovering angel - longer lines curved out from in-between the first arcs as the circle suddenly spun. The lines had formed in the middle of the crawling dragon and tentacles, and as they turned they sliced, a whirlwind of crescents separating the crawling darkness from the rest of the main body of shadows. It wasn't enough to stop what had already reached the Jackal, of course, and the simple momentum of the darkness carried severed bits and pieces towards Laertes. The severed head of the dragon in particular was still quite alive and snapping.
The Jackal raised one gold-dripping hand in front of him, grinning, and held his scythe off to the side. The teeth of the dragon clamped down on the hand of the priest, and for just a moment seemed to pause on the glowing hand. The dragon bit down anyway, the gold only making it pause as it sank fangs-
Laertes's palm flared out, lances of light bubbling out of the dragon's head. The head started to fade away, disintegrating into smaller pieces of darkness before diluting into the air. Hand dripping blood, the gold around the priest's arm glowed almost white before fading - the Jackal's blood dripped down his arm, the priest content to simply let the injured appendage rest at his side as small pieces of darkness hit and fell off him.
Laertes gave a feral grin – the blood dripping from his hand slowed, however, the appendage once again encased in light. The arcs of blue still hung in the air, and with a surprisingly quick motion he bought his hand up and back, drawing a curved line of light – the air cracked, the line of light disappearing instantly as the arcs of crystal blue exploded into motion. They flew outwards, the circle simply exploding, and each spoke that had made up that wheel turned and twisted in the air to reorient themselves. The lines left streaks in the air, and simultaneously each one wheeled towards the bat, lances of holy light.
The Jackal again gave a feral grin, and he hefted his scythe, intent on his next spell...
In his lust to kill the demon, however, Laertes had left himself open, and didn't even see the streak of ice coming for him. With surprising speed and accuracy the javelin flew for the Jackal, and moments after Mel had thrown it the spear hit true, piercing into and through both of the Angel's wings.
Laertes's eyes widened and the Jackal screamed, blood flowing freely down the black feathers and mixing with the gold droplets as he fell. His wings weren't the only thing keeping him aloft – levitation magic kept him from plummeting into the ground. Even so, he hit the stones of the balcony hard, the jarring fall making the priest grit his teeth again. He lay still for half a moment on the ground, his white teeth bared.
Wings were always a particularly sensitive spot on creatures who had them. Mel's arrow had the good fortune of splintering a bit of bone along with the wing-flesh, adding to the excruciating pain of both the injury and the extreme cold of the lance. Laertes stayed still for only a moment, however – with surprising dexterity, he flipped his scythe behind him and hooked the middle of the spear with the blade, the gold-glowing edge apparently warm. It sliced through the ice with little resistance, and the tapered bolt slid out, the narrow ends too small to stay in the now-large wounds.
The Jackal hissed as they did so, and snaked his head around to look into the crowd. His purple eyes could trace the path of the spell, the flight of the spear leading his eyes to that damned stupid wolf again and the...fox? Laertes's eyes narrowed – the spell's path ended at her, but something else was strange about the vulpine.
Laertes stood, dripping blood, and gritting his teeth began a quick rhyming cadence, the air around him glowing a faint blue as he chanted. The blood pouring from his wings staunched, the flesh already beginning to reknit and bones shift, and the priest turned his attention from the little silver mage and back to Stygian. Thatwas the main threat right now, not his little helpers. Laertes brought his blade forward, the black scythe trailing gold into the air as he brought it up. Flight was out of the question, for a moment, but it didn't mean he'd lost -all- advantage...
* * *
Cog gripped the silver cane in his hand with white knuckles, almost completely ignoring the rest of the club as he stared at the Jackal above, the priest engaged in trading blows with Stygian. Holding the cane in his hand awkwardly, his left hand gripping it just below the head, he barely even acknowledged the others until he saw Mel start spellcasting, throwing a lance of ice up at the distracted priest.
Cog almost laughed as it hit the Jackal, the priest falling out of the sky as if his strings were cut, and almost started forward, instead stopping and turning to the dragon beside him with a strange, fierce grin.
"I'd dance with you a thousand times for that Mel, curse or no." he said, smiling again, and looking past the dragon he seemed to finally take note of the club. The place was in utter chaos. Cog's grin faded, replaced by a scowl. He heard a voice call to him from the bar, and almost distractedly Cog responded to the little voice.
"Both. Or just kill him." he said, pointing up at the recovering Jackal. "Either way."
The fox stumbled backwards. His head flipped over, barely connected to his body by a thin flap of skin. The now vacant eyes stared straight down at Carey with an almost accusatory glare. He wouldn't be buying this otter any more drinks.
He continued to fall. The glowing black weapons evaporated into nothingness. A fountain of blood arced across the floor, pulsing in time to a still beating heart. The fall's momentum caused the nearly-severed head to flap back and forth in a most disconcerting manner until he finally hit the floor. Sprawled out and staring up at the ceiling, he might have been lying down to rest were it not for the gaping emptiness separating the two halves of his neck.
The well-dressed fox who had followed Stygian's little band of misfits since late last night looked quite dead. Richard would have to make do on his own for now. At least they couldn't make him much more dead than he already was.
+ + +
"Well, this is annoying."
The jaguar winced at some of the damage inflicted on his other half. Acting out his death was always a pain in the ass, no matter how many times he'd had to do it, but he could turn it to his advantage often enough. Considering the circumstances, he thought he'd done a decent job of making this one look convincing. At least he wouldn't have to maintain the illusionary blood for long. Few would notice the disappearance of a little makeshift gore in the darkness and chaos of the club. Reintegrating the wayward fox back into his body, however, now posed a bit of a problem. It wouldn't do to have the "dead guy" get up and walk out the door, but perhaps he could find a convenient opportunity for the body to disappear and slip away under another guise or illusionary cloak. If worse came to worse, he could just sever the tendril and allow it to regenerate--very painful and inconvenient, but hardly life-threatening.
The strange Creature now approaching him, on the other hand...
Edge leapt out of reach. He momentarily tuned out the fox's sensory feed to focus on his new opponent. He didn't recognize its species. Some kind of Mythos, perhaps? Or maybe an extradimensional summon? It certainly had a clever way of circumventing the club's anti-shapeshifting wards. Given the guard's reaction, it didn't come standard issue in the Red Sands.
One end of the hall led back to a very angry, if badly injured, Ashtareth. The other led to a devastating crossfire between Stygian and the jackal Angel that he could still somewhat follow through the fox's peripheral vision. Unless he wanted to risk warping out of a potentially unstable warding field, going through this ghostlike entity seemed the least of three evils.
Edge wondered how its soul would taste.
The four glowing, serpentine shadows coiled protectively around his body. Two of them broke away and passed through the shattered doorway to flank the entity on either side. Their shapes twisted and warped into hideous parodies of the strange creature they faced. Whereas the ghostlike monster was all but transparent, these two mockeries remained impossibly black, absorbing all light but their eldritch purple auras and glowing eyes. Behind his barrier of undulating black tendrils, the panther crossed his arms and cocked his head.
"Well, then. You don't look very friendly. Let's see if you bleed."
The two faux-entities attacked in unison, lashing out with seemingly boneless limbs that ended in razorlike strands of otherworldly darkness.
Growling as he tried to push his way through the crowd, Gareeku saw Aisha use one of the fleeing club-goers as a springboard, jumping and grabbing onto the exit doorframe to launch herself outside.
"Good idea." the wolf muttered to himself. Like Aisha, he too jammed an elbow into the person who had last pushed him, before using the poor sap as a springboard to get above. However, instead of jumping to the doorframe, Gareeku instead chose to, quite literally, dash over the other fleeing club-goers, using their shoulders as stepping stones as he way his way towards the exit. Luckily for the fleeing club-goers, all they would have to show from the experience was a slightly sore shoulder, as the wolf moved too fast to do anything more.
Finally reaching his goal, namely the exit, Gareeku swung under the doorframe, before flippin off to the side. Landing on his feet on the hard concrete in the slightly cooler air of the outside, the wolf turned to Aisha, who was right by him when he landed.
"Remind me to keep you on a leash next time." the warrior muttered, before looking around as he tried to remember when it was that the coffee shop was located in relation to the Red Sands club.
"No shit." Gareeku muttered in reply to Aisha's last statement. Getting his bearings right as he remembered where it was, the wolf dashed off to the left. "This way!"
Breaking out into a full on sprint down the street, Gareeku's eyes were constantly scanning either side for the road for the café where they had left their weapons. A couple of minutes later, the wolf had spotted it, coming to a stop outside the shop which was, surprisingly, still open.
"Hey! We need our stuff back!" Gareeku called out as he dashed through the front doors of the shop. "Quick! Hurry! This is an emergency!"
Not wanting to piss the wolf off, the feline stop assistant immediately ran out the back, emerging a minute or so later with the weapons and clothes in his hands.
"Thanks." the warrior said, fastening the black belt of his outfit around his waist, before fastening his sheathed katana to it in turn. Waiting until Aisha was ready, Gareeku then dashed out of the door, taking his normal outfit with him as he dashed with the pantheress back up the street. He may not have needed his outfit right then, but it was peace of mind more than anything, especially in case they needed to make a speedy exit from the town.
A couple of minutes later, Gareeku and Aisha had arrived back outside the club. However, there were terrified club-goers still trying to get out. The main reason why there seemed to be so little movement was that club-goers who had already gotten out were hanging around outside, clearly in a state of shock as they stood around in apparent bewilderment.
"Fucking hell..." the wolf cursed once more, walking up to the people who wee hanging around outside. "Hey! You! Get away from here now!"
Hearing Gareeku call to them, the people looked at him, starting to ask questions about what was going on and why those things inside the club were happening. Quickly growing angry with this, Gareeku growled audibly. HE and Aisha didn't have time for 20-questions. They needed to get back inside.
"I SAID GET OUT OF HERE NOW!!" the wolf roared at them, a look of fury of his face as his demonic eye see to glow slightly. Noticing the look on his face, the club-goers decided not to argue, choosing instead to move away from the entrance to the Red Sands club and make their way down either sides of the street.
"Right! Now go! Go go go!" Gareeku called out as he turned to the other club-goers who had not yet gotten out of the building, helping them out of the entrance and instructing them to move away which, considered his angered reaction that they had observed a minute or so ago, the club-goers kindly obeyed.
When it looked like most of the club-goers had made their way out of the building, Gareeku turned to Aisha.
"Show time." the wolf said to her with a quick nod of his head, before turning back and heading inside, the effort made a hell of a lot easier now that most of the club's customers had escaped the building. Once inside, the warrior quickly looked. It seemed like that angel who had decided to make such a dramatic scene had been stabbed through the wings; a most painful thing indeed, though Gareeku couldn't help but smirk with satisfaction.
Unsheathing the katana at his side, the wolf held the shimmering blade in a tight grip. Waiting for an opening, Gareeku kept his eyes locked on the angel, while his ears swivelled around to keep a look out in anyone else decided to try their luck. One there was a opening, then Gareeku would take the opportunity with both hands...
...Keaton:"Fucking
shit!"
Yelling profanities in a rapid-fire stream, Keaton scrambled gracelessly past the door to Ashtareth's room, at first moving frantically as the sound of the lioness's pained cries echoed in her head, but then regaining her posture halfway through her mad dash to safety as her feet adjusted and she pushed her body into motion, flails turning into loping, bounding strides. Even with her composure restored Keaton still cursed her circumstances, continuously demanding to herself why she hadn't expected things would go so horribly wrong. Almost the instant she skidded outside of the door she was greeted with the sight of utter pandemonium, of people rushing to and fro in utter bloodcurdling shock and the Angel levitating above it all. The instant her eyes locked on those trademark feathery wings Keaton grit her teeth and snarled, feeling her prejudice swell up even in the current situation.
Fucking Angels.
Chocolatey irises narrowed as Keaton shunted aside these emotions, rapidly switching her gaze from event to event occurring nearby. From afar Richard had endured a knife to the chest, which he removed painlessly; Stygian was snarling and hissing at the jackal-Angel--who Keaton identified as Laertes, much to her infinite surprise. Laertes was an Angel?
Fuck. Regardless of Stygian's strength the two appeared evenly matched, exchanging blows and insults and attacking one another with everything in their arsenal. Keaton couldn't see where Edge was, but that was the least of her problems at the moment. There were too many things going on at once, and she didn't know what to do.
At the very least, she could provide some form of assistance, she reasoned. Maybe take down Laertes, maybe alleviate some of the opponent's forces. If she couldn't summon Catastrophe she could, hopefully, still use her wing-tentacles. Concentrating, Keaton hunched over briefly, the knobs and bumps which made up her spine convulsing as the skin atop her shoulder-blades extended and expanded, stretching outward like giant, groping claws. Each individual point spread as the membrane of the leathery wings formed themselves between the skeletal frames, the 'forearms' of the wings sprouting their two-fingered claws and black spirals etching across the yellow skin.
Elongated tendrils formed themselves from Keaton's wings, not adapting the jackal heads which were customary of her clan, but transforming into razor-sharp blades, subtly curved and outlined with sharp sable. Glaring around, Keaton searched for her first target, the whites of her eyes gleaming with pulsating ivory light.
---
...Deirdre:At the heart of the chaos Deirdre was still staring at the blurred stampede of people charging to escape the club, filtering through every possible exit, the Gryphon's ears plastered flat and her eyes wide. This was a nightmare. These people were here to have a good time, and now everything had fallen apart. Retired or not, Deirdre would have taken action upon hearing the Angel-jackal's threat, but several factors prevented her from attacking: for one, there was the anti-magical field which restrained her ample elemental proficiency. Second, there was her lack of weapon. She had put her longsword into storage, much to her dismay. Utilizing unarmed combat against a magical entity would just be plain foolish, she knew this for certain, but she couldn't let someone like this incite such a horrible riot...
Then Deirdre noticed, over the heads of the group of people, the collection of blurs assembled at the nearby bar. Unsurprisingly, they also left, although for some reason the Gryphon doubted that they were in the same panic that controlled the retreating group of people. In fact, in comparison, they seemed rather... composed. Knowing better than to be suspicious, Deirdre glared over to the Angel, expecting to still see him aloft--
--but instead she saw the arrow that Mel had launched pierce him through the wing. Deirdre's membranous pupils pinpricked as she watched the Angel's countenance jostle, then his attention be diverted to the presence of some--some--barbaric alabaster beast of some form, who he wasted no time in assaulting. With each passing second the situation just seemed to be exacerbating, especially with each unexpected arrival of some new monstrous creature or--
fuck, Deirdre couldn't think straight! Everything was moving too fast for her, and she couldn't--fucking--stop it! But she had to do
something, because who knew what these creatures would do after they were done ripping each other apart? She may have been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor, but she was far from useless.
For now, however, she fled. She had to retrieve her weapon. And when she came back, she would fight.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Only answering the "leash" comment with a "hrmph", Aisha ran to keep pace with Gareeku. I had better benefit from this exercise... the panthress thought to herself while they ran, quite winded by the time they reached the shop, still not far from the chaos happening around the club. She could still hear the screaming and the shouting even from that far away...it was doubtful that anybody couldn't. But, there was no time to be distracted.
Nor did she even take her time once she had her weapons back, also placing her own belt around her waist with the scabbard of the Dragonblade and the handle of her boomerang attached to it. As an afterthought, the panthress tied the loose ends of her dress so that they wouldn't hinder her while fighting. The thing was expensive, it would probably be destroyed...but that was the glorious life of an adventurer. She nodded to Gareeku once she finished and dashed out of the shop behind him...more than likely the two of them leaving the staff quite bewildered.
As expected, by the time they reached the crowd again, not very many of them had run further than a hundred yards of the club, surrounding it like a curious mob as none of them seemed to have the courage to run back in. "I give it about a half-hour before the police arrive," Aisha muttered as they started to push through, the wolf leading the charge quite efficiently with his intimidation. "Go on, you heard the man, GO! CORRAN! (Run!)" she added while they ushered most of the rest of the innocents out of the building.
Then, hearing his comment, she nodded back with a dangerous grin and drew her boomerang. "Finally."
And finally without a crowd to hinder them, Aisha and Gareeku were back among the ranks, most of their friends finally out of hiding and nearly surrounding this Angel, who was already downed with a pierced wing. Standing at alert, the panthress's eyes shifted back and forth between all corners of the space, and back at the Creature, and up again. Juuuust try to come at us, whoever the hell you all are.
Kerya blinked and twitched her whiskers as the white wolf snarled a reply she barely heard and ran off into the crowd. With a sigh and a mutter that might have been less than complimentary if it hadn't been lost in the surrounding noise, she returned her attention to the vixen and the other wolf, chittering in dark amusement at the grey wolf's reply. "Like that, is it? Well, any friend of Sebastian's is a friend of mine — you have my aid if you need it." Just then Sebastian's counterspell reached its target. The whirlwind of blue blades conjured up in reply by the jackal dissipated the attack messily, then turned to plunge down at the bat. She snarled angrily: there was nothing she could do at this distance to disrupt something like that. The caster, on the other hand...
The vixen's ice lance attack drew a nod of professional admiration from the little stoat. She watched as it brought the hovering jackal crashing back down to the balcony. It didn't kill him, but he was obviously hurt. Kerya ran quickly through the list of her attack spells she was fairly sure wouldn't backfire on her. How about... no, too far. Maybe...? NO! Not indoors again! Ah, let's try this... She thrust her right arm out in the jackal's direction, sighting carefully along the end of her forefinger. Fat sparks ran down from her shoulder, then gathered together around her extended hand. A single screamed word came from her muzzle, then her claws flared brightly and a bolt of lightning lashed out, crackling through the air in a direct line for the jackal as he raised his scythe once more.
Laertes' attacks and his recovery were both speedy enough to challenge Stygian. Fortunately, in his hateful zeal the jackal was too intent and focused on destroying the bat, a target he should already have had doubts about attacking head-on. And he was not in a tactically advantageous position. These two thoughts flashed through Stygian's head for a very short instant before he formulated his own tactic.
Bright, bright lances of streaming light and energy cut through the air against the bat, slicing through the darkness that was already dissipating or returning to him. Stygian had seen the attack coming; he was familiar with the patterns of a few such techniques, and the charging time for them was fortunately just long enough to time in a response. Another burst of darkness behind his form ripped out into a pair of wings behind him, and then Stygian swept his hands forward. Dim, bluish-purple glyphs trailed his hands, and then the darkness blasted out before him into a part-visible shield, distorting the light going through it. The beams of light struck it, bounced off, and blasted the ceiling, walls and floor asunder instead.
Laertes was struck by Mel's lance of ice, leaving a trail of mist and freezing crystals behind. Stygian immediately seized the moment.
'
Flammae petii nos; permissum is non successii in suus concupisco...!' the bat chanted. His voice rose melodically, as if to some music. Contrasting to the jackal's, it was a clear baritone, forceful in its strength. '
Attonare...!' he sang, and drew out in a rising note. Voices seemed to chant in, as he struck out his hand. And then, a shock of blackness struck out, making the air ripple as it drew inwards in a sphere, and then blasted the balcony into pieces.
His stance shaking a bit, Stygian looked to the side and back to Keaton and Edge. He spared only a second, before he set off at a run against the other members of a party, nearing Kerya. The air seemed still alive somewhat with the voices and the tension, as if some distant, dramatic music were playing.
- -
For a second, the ghastly creature stopped, seemingly confused by this turn of events. It swayed as it hovered, a bit of dust on the floor blowing outward under it as if it were hovering on a pillar of air. Then it made a sound that despite its clear, melodical quality sounded most hostile, and started forward towards edge. It raised its 'hands' or whatever the tendrilous things were, against the attacks directed toward it, and struck out with strange rippling blasts that seemed to disturb the darkness. To Edge it felt as when a limb painfully goes asleep, a stinging sensation that caused the darkness to quiver and then dissolve as it numbed beyond his control.
The thing clearly was not entirely solid, for it passed through the arm of the first of the dark copies the panther had made without any resistance. Only when it hit the main body of the second did it slow and stop, gradually like a wooden ball that falls at speed when it hits water. The thing grabbed around his fabricated guardian and sent its tendrils into it, causing more of that stinging and numbing sensation to surge through the Incubus and greatly disturbing the construct.
The haunting melody of the bat's deep baritone echoed in the Jackal's ear, the low notes singing out in a call to the darkness. It responded, the umbra warping and twisting underneath the balcony on which the Angel stood, and with a feral grin Laertes began a call of his own, his clear, high notes cut short as a lightning bolt slammed into the scythe he held above his head.
The bolt slammed straight into the blackened blade of the sickle. Leartes felt a bit of a charge flow down from it – though the haft of the weapon was wooden, the bolt was very powerful, and wood isn't a perfect insulator for something that strong. The scythe was wrenched out of his hand, the lightning bolt throwing it in a lazy arc into the farthest wall. It became stuck there, the blade penetrating the stone walls like butter.
Laertes was launched to his side, falling on his still-healing wing with a snarl. It was still quite tender, and almost instantly the Jackal sprung to his feet again, intent on countering this new threat-
Too late. The bomb of darkness went off beneath the balcony, shattering and collapsing the thing beneath the Jackal's feet. The sound was tremendous, and yet even for all its magnitude the hushed tones of the bat's spell continued, whispering in the Jackal's ear. Laertes cursed as the floor gave way, and it was only the quick rhyming of two syllables that kept him from being crushed underneath the falling rubble. His fall slowed, the levitation magic again taking effect, and the blue aura still surrounded his wings. Laertes wasn't a second-rate priest – they were healing very fast. He repeated the syllables again, the light words rolling of his tongue quickly, and with a small, tentative flap of his wings managed to alight on a small shard of the balcony still sticking into the far wall, as of yet uncollapsed.
The Angel's face was dark, the grin washed off his features. The blue glow finally dissipating as the the last feather of his wings grew back, the angel extended a golden hand towards the scythe buried in the wall. It shook for a moment, wrenching itself free of the stonework, and then tumbling end over end it flew for the Jackal, making three full revolutions before being caught, the Jackal grasping it by the end of the haft. He glared at the bat, and then at the mustelid who'd conjured the bolt. Three spellcasters at once.
The Angel made a face, shaking his head, and he lowered the scythe quickly, crooking it in his hands. Letting it rest there, Laertes exhaled, and with a strange sort of serenity began to chant yet again. The holy magic about him reacted, the liquid seeming to move faster somehow as the Jackal spoke – the chant grew louder, and the priest fell into a regular rhythm.
The golden glow about the Jackal wasn't simply there as a weapon – it was a secondary effect. The more holy magics the priest was channeling, the more and more of the stuff would appear on him. It had its own effects – it was extremely resistant to darkness, and could, in that manner, be used in a weapon in it's own right. The stuff could burn to the touch, and if he so desired the Jackal could use it in other ways, even to power other types of spells directly.
The Jackal had been glowing since long before the battle started. The anti-magic field, no longer in place, was simply less of a hindrance, and with a few last, rolling syllables, the Jackal stopped, whispering something else under his breath...
The Red Sands -shifted-, somehow, a sharp crack penetrating the air as the golden glow on the Jackal began to fade. The structure itself seemed to change, somehow, the mood strangely stifled, and emanating out from behind the Jackal was a sensation that could only be described as holy. The ceiling seemed higher, the shadows darker, and the light much, much brighter. Light streamed in from the skylight above, although from no visible source, and the air itself seemed to twist around it, diffusing at the edges and visible until it hit the floor.
Laertes continued to chant, the feeling growing stronger and stronger, and a small, iridescent halo of light was cast behind the priest, small and faint but palpable still.
"Abstergo impuritiae saniei, Dies irae, dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla..."
The light intensified, and without warning the portion of floor that was caught in the beam of light caught fire, the flames pure white and spreading quickly. Sentient in their movements, the fire rushed for the bat and the group around him, more mundane fires springing up where the flood of white flame brushed...
While the extremely odd transformation of their companion had been a deterrent, the two guards had time to recover, and as they saw the direct firepower of the competition, they immediately dashed off in two directions and took cover. The first pulled out a rather menacing submachinegun, while the other conjured up a fireball and hurtled it into the roof above and between Mel and Gareeku to cause some collateral damage. The other one took this as a cue and ducked out of cover, firing off a salvo upward against the adventurers.
Then, from the side, another pair of guards pushed through the crowd still moving toward the exit from the upper right side of the hall, coming down from the floors above. One of them threw up a magical shield, and then they advanced on the group, pulling guns.
- -
The jackal just wouldn't give up. Stygian sprinted, leaping over railing and tables to get closer to the others. The guests had evacuated the main floor, but there were still some at the exits, and he doubted the building was fully cleared. Flames were starting to build in the locale. And in the background there was the tension, that building sensation that signified a much greater threat approaching.
Flames erupted in a bright, terrible torrent and rushed toward the bat.
The idiot's really trying to kill me right now! Fuck! he thought.
Well, there's complete chaos anyway. Aw, what the Hell... He threw himself back and threw his hands forward, the veiny blackness creeping up his forearms. A blast of living darkness shook the floor as it ripped forward from him, taking hound-like shapes and growing and ungrowing maws and eyes as it went, and Stygian immediately swept out with more of the dark on the sides. It looked as if several sets of wings formed and spread out forth, before paling and fading off, leaving only the shockwave that threw both flames and tables away. It was enough to keep the fire at bay, for just a bit.
Stygian could have chosen to bring the fight to Laertes at that point. But the guards had not let up, the group still had Ace and Carey at their back, and destroying the Angel would be hard and tiring. They didn't need a battle. They needed to run.
Casting a glance over his shoulder at the others, Stygian growled and thrust his hand into his pocket, fishing for something. He took out a little glass vial, a simple thing with a metal top and seal, holding what seemed to be some pitch-black liquid. He considered for a second, then threw it into the floor.
There was a small blast, and then, with a palpable rush, a thick, complete darkness filled the room.
Richard could see what was going on around him. Stygian, crazy git, fighting Laertes from the ground as the other hung above the clubgoers like some obscene ornament. The occasional bright arc of a sword over near the bar, and glimpses of what could only be Aisha, Cogidubnus and Gareeku. That gryphon from before, a fox on the dance floor, some mustalid over by someone who looked like Gareeku (that is to say, it was a white and angry looking wolf).
Ace, surprisingly enough, was the first to charge. Should have expected that, she's the one with the close range weapon. He dodged out of the way only a little after the nick of time, catching a scratch along his back from the end of her sword and coming only some very quick reflexes away from getting Carey's shurikan buried in his leg. With speed that others had often found surprising in an undead he was quickly back on his feet and charging Carey. The shurikan clattered along the floor, returning to Carey's hand in another flash. They were about to collide, Ace already moving to try to intercept the rampaging zombie. Knife and shurikan clashed with a narratively satisfying 'clang!' And for a moment the two struggled for control. Then, of course, Richard used that spell he'd readied earlier. The younger furrae was quick, he managed to avoid the brunt of the chilled blast, and then Ace was right in front of him.
I can't keep this up against her with just a knife... Richard attempted to stop the wolf from sending her sword right through him, managing to deflect the blow into his shoulder instead, Hell, I probably couldn't keep this up with a damn tank, nothing seems to harm this woman! He backed away, knife held out as though it were more of a talisman than an actual weapon. Carey's shurikan, again! The undead dodged to the side, knocked over a table to put something between him and Ace. How the hell am I going to...?
And then the room went dark.
Richard blinked, expecting his dead eyes to adjust quickly. But no, it was as though someone had their hands over his eyes... But he could still smell those two living bodies directly ahead of him.
He grabbed the table in front of him and SHOVED. It didn't crash into Ace as he wanted it to, but it got her out of the way as he kept charging, his cover before him promising that anyone who wanted to stop him wouldn't want to for very long. He dropped it and took off, following the scents of those who had been running for the exits earlier. Briefly, he thought he heard Carey curse.
Casting another spell to cover the floor behind him in clear, pristine ice to further dissuade pursuit, Richard couldn't suppress what for him passed for a smirk.
Mel completed the spell she started after the ice lance. A quick teleportation spell and an item balanced across her hands. "Will this help?" she asked the wolf beside her as she handed Cog his sword, retrieved from the cloakroom. Suddenly it seemed like fire was all around her. Fear overriding strategy she attacked the flames rather than the caster. A ring of swirling magic that sucked all the air from it's center. She threw one at the overhead fire, hoping to smother it before sparks rained down, but she didn't know if she was successful because the lights suddenly went out.
Cogidubnus's eyes narrowed at the sudden attack by the Jackal, the wolf having almost started forward before being pushed back again by the approaching fire. He snarled, his hands starting to move in passes of their own, when the dragon behind him tapped him on the shoulder.
"Will this help?"
Cog stared at the fox incredulously for a moment before looking down at what she offered. His sword, tassel still perfectly tied and all, sat in her hand. Cog's eyes widened, and the wolf gave Mel a fierce grin as he took it.
It was only a moment later, however, when they were all plunged into total darkness. Cog cursed, and with deft fingers undid the knot on his sword blindly. He'd done it enough times that he didn't need to see it to get it right anymore, and likewise he shoved it through his cloth belt. Securing it, the wolf started feeling his way backwards, his sense of sight totally gone.
"
Very annoying."
The first of the fake entities fell back, numb and quivering, with patches of darkness bleeding off of it in thin wisps. The second tried to pull away from the creature's painful paralyzing assault.
Edge frowned. So his enemy wasn't damaged by dark or physical attacks. That eliminated a good chunk of his combat repertoire. He could expect more pain while experimenting with ways to hurt the insubstantial yet dangerous creature. Fortunately, Stygian and the jackal had just widened his options.
"Okay, so you don't bleed. Let's see if you burn."
Elemental magic was not Edge's forte, but he had learned a trick or two in the past century and a half. The jaguar chanted a short string of arcane power words. His body burst into flames. The plush red carpeting at his feet turned to ash, kindling veins of fire that licked at the floor around his body. The shimmering violet auras surrounding his dark tentacles and strange black monsters now blazed with tongues of matching blue flame.
The construct that the strange ghost was attacking--now a freakish marriage of elemental fire and shadow--advanced again. Its sizzling form reached out, spreading like black oil spilling through the air to surround and immolate its enemy in a fiery embrace.
Searing pain.The soft blue flames flared to incandescent white. Intense heat rippled off the black forms in waves that scorched the air around them. It was but a shadow of a reality that might have been, but weak minds often failed to tell the difference.
+ + +
Time to pull a disappearing act.
The fox's corpse was on fire, moving swiftly and unnoticed under cover of Stygian's unnatural darkness. Now little more than a flaming shadow, it bobbed and weaved through the hall, seemingly unbothered by the blindness. In his mind's eye, the talented illusionist retained a near-photographic recall of the hall's layout. The few unexpected obstacles--a smashed table here, a patch of magical flames there--failed to impede its progress towards the still-lit backroom corridor where the jaguar waited.
...Deirdre:Once she leapt outside Deirdre instantly dashed across the pavement, deliberately avoiding the enclosed packs of people who were escaping the club as well. By now most of it was probably evacuated, but she wasn't entirely sure. Did the place have fire alarms or something? Still cursing the stupidity that cursed pandemonium, Deirdre continued her mad dash towards where she knew her weapon was stashed, cataract-clad felid eyes raking to and fro in search of the familiar arrangement of blurs. Across the street she noticed those characters from within the club who were assembling their own weapons, saturating her with a strange form of relief. Adventurers? Or, a more paranoid part of her suggested, enemies? It didn't matter. Right now she needed to find her--ah!
Deirdre all but cheered when she neared the alleyway she had deposited her swiss longsword, instantly snatching it up with cat-like reflexes and sweeping it out of its protective scabbard. Moonlight glinted off of the fine, fine blade in shimmering spades, suffusing the entirety of the sword's length with silver. Keeping her sword low, Deirdre rushed back towards the club's entrance just as a panicked kangaroo burst past, nearly knocking her over.
Fright or not, Deirdre couldn't help but feel indignant, but such a feeling faded when she entered the club and saw the conflict occurring between the alabaster monster and the Angel. Skirmishes between powerful Creatures were common, yes (hell, Deirdre was a Creature herself, after all, and had seen her larger brethren become entangled with angry encounters), but she hadn't--not in her life--seen something of this magnitude. Now how was she supposed to intervene? Just as that thought registered the room was engulfed in blackness, completely hindering her sight. Deirdre barked out an obscenity, scuffling around. Wonderful, just wonderful. What the hell was
going on NOW? Where were those Creatures going to go, and--
Oh fuck, there were footsteps coming right for her. Really fast ones.
Before Deirdre could move to get out of the way she felt something heavy barrel into her side. There was a loud shriek of a curse and a thud as Deirdre was thrown to the ground, and then she heard more footsteps scramble past. Over the periphery of her foggy vision Deirdre could see a silhouette sporting leathery wings burst out through the door. Snarling even more curses under her breath, Deirdre grabbed her sword from the ground and pursued, knowing it wouldn't be wise to fight in such darkened conditions. The most she could do was hope that she could take down one of the offenders when they were exposed.
---
...Keaton: As the flames crept nearer Keaton struggled to find a way to fend off the fire, at first wondering if she could smother it with a tapestry of solidified darkness, but then remembering such utilization of Dark-oriented magic was restricted in the magic-proof surroundings--that disabled a great deal of her skills. Perhaps she could use Xianxi to warp herself out? But what if Warp-Aci were also confined? Goddammit, this was far too difficult--far too nerve-wracking. Panicking, she glared about, trying to keep her attention on the approaching fire, but too many things were going on at once. Too many battles being fought, too many people to be concerned about. All she needed was just one more distraction to grate her nerves--
Then utter darkness drenched the club.
Keaton cursed.
Escape! Instantly, she whirled around and blindly searched for the exit. A distraction maneuever.
Excellent work, Styg, she thought dryly. Couldn't even see the goddamn FIRE. She could run right through the flames and burn herself beyond recognition and she wouldn't even see it--fuck. That meant she'd have to rely on her sense of hearing. Still chanting insults and profanities under her breath, Keaton rushed forward, deliberately avoiding the places where the sound of roaring flame originated. Occasionally she felt something hot creep up her pantsleg but she ignored it, leaping and bounding across the floor in great bounds.
Keaton's success thus far was jolted when she felt herself collide with something--perhaps a person, but not someone whose voice she recognized. Regardless, it came as a dreadful obstacle to her as she fell to the ground, landing in a crumpled heap. She flailed briefly, trying to get back on her feet, then snarled, leaping over the person on the floor like a vaulting horse, dashing out through the door.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The darkness descended quickly and completely, a bubble of shadow and black that drained the light from Laertes eyes and blinded him to the world. The Angel cursed, baring fangs, and proceeded to chant a dispelling hex, black wings spread wide as he sung high, lilting notes. They echoed throughout the ink-like shadow, chilling and distant.
The Angel could still see the bat, and the flames, the potion not disabling his second-sight. All the magic in the room was visible to him, but other than the silhouette of the bat himself, there was frustratingly little detail. Until the darkness receded, no more fire would be produced. Not that any more was needed, but...
He was going to get away. The angel clenched his fist and continued his chant, unable to speed up the slow, specific cadence of a divine dispell...
* * *
The wolf kept both hands on the hilt of his sword, listening carefully as he moved backwards for any sort of hint that something might be behind him. His steps were slow, and he stopped as soon as he felt the heat of the holy fire fade. He incanted three slow, complex rhymes under his breath, the words alien and difficult, and moving his hand invisibly in mystic passes he held up with his free hand one of his silver charms. It flared in the darkness, unseen, and outside the sky rumbled ominously. A bit of ozone penetrated the room, and if the party could have seen outside, the flash of lightning would have given it away.
The sky threatened rain.
The only one left knowing left from right in the locale was Stygian, and the bat was not late to take advantage of the situation. Blasting Laertes right in the face with a silencing shockwave, and then creating a tangle of living, crawling darkness right before him, he sent the Angel flying to impact with a wall and to be held there. Only a second after, Mel and Gareeku and Aisha and all the others in the group, and also Kerya, felt things tugging at them, and voices hissing in their ears, conspicuously like the bat's own. '
Follow! We must get out!' they said, pulling them along.
The hapless adventurers were dragged out and up some stairs leading to the second floor. Rather than taking the direct way out, Stygian merely sent a pair of constructs of darkness, resembling some horrid crossing between a wolf and a shark, through the throng of guests trying to get out, plowing them aside and inciting more panic, to make it seem as if they had taken that route. The darkness in the hall would only last seconds, and he wanted no pursuers, nothing to tell where they were going. Especially since that tension, that telltale sign of the approaching danger, was growing stronger by the second. The bat smashed in a door and stormed into a corridor leading to the backrooms, and then into a room behind that. One by one the others emerged behind him.
'
Drop everything. We have to go,' he said as the others were tugged along out of the darkness. The things pulling them, sinuous shadow-things with mouths full of knife-like teeth, crumbled and dissipated. The bat walked over through the open room and to a window, knocking it open. Outside, the back alley hinted.
- -
For a moment, the thing hesitated and pulled back yet again. Edge thought that he could feel shock and irritation past the fear of the guard to his side, and the screaming panic of the other woman, who had backed up against a wall on the other side of the room. Yet if the thing was thinking and had emotions, then they were mostly alien to him. It seemed to be a clump of energy and thoughts and will, very strange but somehow familiar in another way.
The brief pause offered by the thing's hesitation was cut off when it directed another blast at the panther's remaining copy, tearing it up, and then advanced on him. The flames didn't seem to scare it the slightest. It was as if the thing wasn't physical, as if it were simply a manifestation of something that could interact with the material world as it wanted.
The thing advanced on him very quickly, and its 'fingers' were merely inches from his face, stretching through the fire, as he caught a passage of its thoughts. '
Take you...! Have... you...!' it chanted.
For a while, the tension and chaos were centered on the two individuals in the room, who it was recognized was the strange black jackal, despite an injury, and Stygian, both in a wild and whirling array of prowess. Again the others were scattered in the backdrop of a club that looked to soon be falling apart, with fire flung in every direction and the crowd gone bar for a bunch of adventurers and guards. It was apparent from Aisha's perspective, alongside Gareeku and with Mel and Cogidubnus not far away, that the Angel wasn't their immediate target.
The guards seemed to be. The adventurers were dodging and weaving just to get out of the way of the chaos and look for whatever might get them next...having come in a bit late before, Aisha especially didn't know what to expect. Her tail ring was flaring and pulsating an emerald hue that was lost in the luminescence of the club, and partially of the glowing magic. And as they were, a blast of magic suddenly answered them, hitting between the white wolf and the disguised dragon...but probably having aimed for either of them. Followed by several individuals with guns cocked all around. "Ah shit..." Aisha muttered at the sight. And she had forgotten to put her vest on.
But before anyone could fight back more, darkness enveloped the entire club, so suddenly that it came as a wave. It blocked out her tail ring...the magic...even the fires. All that could be discerned were voices, all confused and heading in too many directions. It was confusion in the purest sense. All Aisha could do was rush. "Gareeku! Mel! Anyone!" she called out to the others, with her sword held up above her head for defense. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable being a feline blinded even in the dark.
And then, through the yelling, she finally felt something leading...unfortunately, it tugged at her. "Hey!" she growled...she was pushed around in a crowd enough already, any more pushing was getting her quite pissed. She struck out with her claws, but didn't seem to hit anything...the dark was misleading. Until she heard the familiar voice, that of Stygian, along with the tugging. "Jeez," Aisha muttered, just hoping that the others were in the same frame. And by the time they could finally see, she figured that they indeed were...at least those she could see.
"Not dropping anything," the panther muttered and took one last swipe at the shadow thing that tugged her, before looking around...they had rushed up stairs, that was certain, and now on the second floor... "Someone can please tell me what the freakin' hell that was about?" She half-muttered, crossing her arms.
Kerya barely had time for a muttered "got him" — she hadn't aimed specifically for the jackal's scythe, that spell was always a little unpredictable in what it actually hit — before Sebastian's return spell blasted the entire balcony to pieces. She barely flinched as a chunk of debris bounced off her shield. And when the smoke cleared...
That damnably smug jackal still stood there, much less badly injured than she'd thought, perched on a stub of the ruined balcony. He'd even retrieved his scythe from where it had stuck into the wall. He glared in her direction for a moment, then returned his attention to the bat below him.
"Shave it!" Kerya snarled in exasperation, "What will it take to stop him?"
The panicking crowd was finally beginning to clear, and as she glanced around she saw Sebastian running across the hall towards her and the others. The clearer view also let her see two groups of what were obviously guards advancing from another direction. One threw a fireball into the ceiling somewhere above Kerya's head, the others attacked with some sort of explosive weapon.
Before Kerya could do more than notice the vixen standing nearby, in a near panic, cast a spell up at the flames on the ceiling, every bit of light in the hall vanished. She chittered in frustration, looking towards the brightly lit exits, then the fire above her, then the places across the hall that she knew had been on fire — nothing. She couldn't see beyond the end of her snout... in fact, she couldn't even see the end of her snout. She created a small light in the palm of her hand. Still nothing, even when she brought her hand right in front of her nose. She could feel the miniscule drain of the spell, but that was all. She let it dissolve, then tried casting about for a scent of anyone nearby.
Suddenly something tugged at Kerya's sleeve. She hissed and swung her staff round, but didn't hit anything. More touches and pulls came, and she heard Sebastian's voice telling her to follow. With few choices left — her nose still worked, and some of those fires were getting too close for comfort — the little stoat scrambled blindly down from the bar and let herself be guided along. Not without some muttered commentary, however...
"Ow! That's me, not my dress! Aah! My tail! Hey, hands off — not there!"
Not one to offer lengthy explanations at a time such as that they were in, Stygian threw his head and made a feral growl, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 'Terrible things are coming, and we need to get the fuck out! What's there to not understand?' he snarled, then looked toward Kerya as the ferret dropped out just as the darkness grasping the hall began withdrawing. The shark-like thing holding her let go and then turned into flaky black dust and then even smaller particles that vanished into thin air. 'Sorry for the rude treatment, but I'm not going to leave you in a burning building,' he leered suddenly toward the little mustelid. 'Might be an uncomfortable exit though.' He looked out through the window and toward the container-dumpster on the other side of the alleyway. The club had tall stories, it seemed.
Richard was the last one to emerge into the room. Stygian would have been content to leave the undead behind to struggle with the other guests and the police. The club was supposed to be off-limits to his kind. But something had told him not to.
'We're going to have to jump out. If you would be so kind?' the bat said, and indicated the window with his right hand, making a little mocking bow to the company. He gave Kerya a quick look. She didn't look capable of jumping out a window on the first story of a house. 'Don't worry. I'll take you, if you would allow me.'
Suddenly, something like a shockwave passed through the room, probably the entire building, and as one the entire group felt something like a ringing in their ears, and a migraine-like pain starting to build in their foreheads. Stygian straightened and tensed, turning his gaze as if looking through the walls for the source of the shock.
'That's Ash coming back. Let's go!' he said, and without ceremony stepped over, grabbed Kerya around the waist with his hand under her legs, and dashed, jumping out the window.
Richard finally found his way out of the dark, in time to hear Stygian's proposed plan. Jump out a window? The man suggests we jump out a damn window to escape? And, with a hint of resignation, These are the people I need to help with whatever the hell it is they're up to to keep anyone else from coming after me? Again, that basically low opinion of adventurers. They'd proved him right once, after all.
The group seemed to have aquirred someone new; that girl who looked sort of like Marya, but not. The rest of the group was their usual disreputable self. Gareeku, Cog... "Hey, looks like the whole gang," he rasped with a nod, "Aisha, Mel, Cog. Good to see you."
There was a rumble, the resident threat on her way. Stygian charged out the window in a manner that reminded one that he probably did that sort of insane crap often. The dead man sighed.
"One of these days, remind me to ask him why his plans tend to suck when it comes to these sorts of details."
With that the dead man charged after Stygian, a spell crystalizing around his hand as he leaped. A blast of ice creating crystaline hand holds in the wall that he grabbed, and then released and cast another spell, dropping down the the ground bit by bit until, predictably, he landed on some discarded trash at the bottom, slipped, and fell on his ass.
"Dammit!"
...Deirdre:"Ow-"
"G-God dammit-"
"Owowowow-"
"My fuckin' head-"
Both Gryphon and Succubus stumbled out from the club, the adrenaline-fueled stamina which had accelerated them before having petered out of their bodies like fluttering tufts of steam. The taller of the two, the Gryphon, keeled over temporarily, her energy momentarily lapsing but hardly diminished, hand still gripping the pommel of her sword with an unnatural amount of confidence. Confidence not illustrated in words or expressions, but in the mere tension and the way the knobs of her knuckles hiked up against her skin, lifting the fur and feathers and draining away the ginger. Taking a deep breath, Deirdre struggled to recompose herself, standing upright and staring back and forth resolutely, as though expecting for more of the Creatures to burst through the door. No such indication happened--was this one just another inhabitant of the club?
The winged, saffron-sable canine swaggered a little, also catching her breath. Raking her hand through her disarrayed dirty-blonde hair, she turned her head around just in time to see Deirdre lift her sword and point it at her chin. "Y-You," muttered Deirdre, "Stop right the--"
The jackal's pupils contracted into thin brown slits as she stared down the length of the sword, at first with something akin to surprise, then with revelation, and concluding with frustrated resignation. Up in the darkened sky, Deirdre heard a distant rumbling churn the clouds, that gravelly sound quickly spreading between the branches of fog. The Gryphon's ears flattened briefly as, for the first time, she pieced together everything which had occurred.
That tattoo, swinging back and forth on the Doberman's hip.
How nervous she was.
One eye paler than the other. Couldn't be remedied, even with magic.
Almost penultimately, Deirdre felt her features contort into a snarl. "You," she stated.
"...Fuck," the jackal muttered.
---
...Keaton:"You!" Deirdre continued, rambling, "Oh my GOD, I can't believe it. Of
all the goddamn places... it was so
BLOODY OBVIOUS, I should've KNOWN it was you..."
Snapping her gaze back and forth, Keaton sheepishly fidgeted, looking more embarrassed than anything else, as though she were caught off-guard by a severe inconvenience. Rather like a person encountering an "old friend" while on their first date, instead of an admittedly dangerous Creature being cornered by a Very Angry Adventurer. "Great, just great. Of all the places and opportunities in the world, she just had to run into
Deirdre motherfucking Donnachaidh when she was in the middle of a fight at a burning club which her companions were still trapped i--
Oh.
Oh fuck.
That presented a whole new problem, didn't it?
"FUCK!" Keaton suddenly screamed, leaping off to the side and running back towards the club, feet rapidly propelling herself towards the door. Deirdre was instantly pursuing her, face still fixated in that uncharacteristically nasty snarl.
"Get the hell back here!" Deirdre shouted.
"Listen!" Keaton snapped back without looking toward her, ambidextrously opening up the long-sealed over pocket of darkness beside her in mid-stride and flinging Catastrophe out of its maw. Inch by inch, her wings sunk into her spine until they vanished altogether from sight, making her back appear no different from an ordinary Being's. "We'll take care of this
later, right now I have to go--"
Before she could continue, there was a loud curse, the sound of ozone sizzling and swelling in the tepid and electrified air, and suddenly Keaton yelled as she forced herself to duck out of the way of a concentrated burst of ice magic. The plume of energy instantly crystallized as it hit the wall where her head once was, freezing over into spiky layers of rigid, bristling ice. Standing back up, Keaton stared at the block of ice, then glared back to Deirdre. The Gryphon was standing there with customized sword leveled in one hand and the glowing vestiges of her previously launched spell dancing along her fingertips, fury in her eyes.
The jackal forced a strangely resonant, hoarse laugh. All bitterness, no mirth, just reflective of how spiteful she was of the unfortunate circumstances. "No fun and games, huh?" she asked, leveling Catastrophe. "Listen, bitch, I'm being really nice and letting you go. That should be enough."
"You are
not getting away this time," Deirdre retorted firmly. The once-empyreal, diaphanous spades of white light wafting from her palm tensed, then flared outward, encompassing her fist with fire. "You're
not."
"Lovely," Keaton sniffed, then scoffed, crudely gesturing to Deirdre's sword. "And what do you think you're going to do with that? Overcompensating for the dick you don't have?"
Light seemed to blaze in the back of Deirdre's membrane-caked eyes as she swept her sword around in a wide arc, the blade slicing cleanly through the air. She bounded forward, keeping her stance powerful, commanding,
ready to fight, attempting to swipe at a part of Keaton's body which would hopefully distract her and then allow Deirdre to incapacitate her. Moving fast, Keaton swiftly brought Catastrophe up, angling the shaft so that way the blade of the sword clashed off of the ebony surface of the handle. In response Deirdre merely spun back around and aimed another attack, this time having defused the spell so she could safely use both hands to maneuver the weapon.
It looked like they were going to be there for a while.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Mel was suddenly blind to the world around her, but she could still hear the approaching fires. One spark even met her shoulder, making her yelp. But before she could grope her way more than a few feet down the bar she was tugged in the opposite direction. She tugged back until Ignaz's voice urged her to follow. It seemed like quite a long time before her guide pulled her into the light. She stood still for a dazzled moment, not having a third eyelid to protect her from the sudden light in her disguised form. She took the moment to put her disarranged dress back into place and brush the ash from it.
When Ignatz informed them they were exiting via the window Mel's wings reformed on her back. At the same time her fox form subtly morphed to the snow leopard form she had worn when she first arrived and the short white dress turned foggy and shimmering. When the fog solidified it was in the shape of her sturdy grey suede jacket outfit. Properly prepared her step from the window was a pleasant hop to the ground aided by wings and flight magic.
Cog took a stumbling step forward, and then another as the bat's tether pulled, dragging them all out of the darkness. He tripped over a broken piece of table, taking a few hopping steps as he regained his balance, and then managed to keep at a run, exiting the darkness with the rest of them.
Stygian informed the rest of them that they would be jumping out of a window to escape. Cog looked back a the receding bubble of darkness, narrowing his eyes, and pausing for a moment took a slow step back towards the bubble. His hand tightened on the hilt of his blade.
Before he went back into the darkness, however, the wolf stopped again. His eyes flashed behind his shades, a gleam entering into his eyes, and with a small nod he turned from the bubble and back to the window.
Cog wasn't in possession of anything that could help him make such a fall, and staring down at the concrete pavement of the alleyway for just a moment, marking how strangely small the dumpster seemed to be, he jumped.
The fall was a bit long, and when the bat's feet hit the ground it even took a bit of the air out of Kerya's lungs. But Stygian seemed to have no trouble with it whatsoever. 'There we go,' he murmured as he released his grip on the stoat and stood back up, moving out of the way to make room for the others to land. Turning quickly, he was just about to break off at a run, when he heard a yell from further down the alleyway. One that sounded familiar. Frowning, the bat dashed off.
Fire flared up in the gryphon's hand, and blows were exchanged, the both combatants leaping in a deadly dance. Stygian cursed, and for a moment he stopped outright, watching them. They were quite close together, and if he pulled them apart they would only struggle. What he needed was shock and awe. Because stopping the fight there was no question about. At least, neither of them seemed to have noticed him.
For a split second, Keaton and the gryphon moved a bit further apart, and Stygian took his chance. He swept his hand forward, and another wing-like sweep of darkness seemed to burst out from his back and along the side of his arm. Then, with an audible crack, the thing lengthened into a pitch-black lash that rushed down the alley, ripping up the ground as it went, leaving a purplish-black streak behind it for a moment. It whipped right between the two fighters, spraying them with tiny pebbles of pavement and hitting Deirdre's sword with a hard metallic clang, knocking it from her grip, just as it almost made Keaton hit her own head with Catastrophe.
'What the fuck is going on?!' Stygian snarled at them both, walking closer out of the shadows as the black streak vanished, his face a thunderhead.
The jaguar bit back a curse as his enemy casually destroyed yet another of his extended limbs. He was down to half strength--with injuries that could take days, if not weeks, to regenerate and nothing to show for his efforts. Even with his level of mental discipline, the pain had become difficult to tune out. He extinguished his flaming aura and sprang back to evade the grasping fingers. His remaining tendrils, useless against this opponent, withdrew and melted into his body.
"I really don't have time for this shit."
Edge barked words of power and extended his palm towards the entity blocking the door to his exit. Shockwaves rippled from his fingers. The atmospheric distortion passed right through the insubstantial monster with no effect. But the creature hadn't been his target. The windows in the room beyond shattered, raining thousands of tiny shards onto the alley below.
And then a second, significantly more intense shockwave rocked the building. That one wasn't him.
The panicked crowd had moved far enough from the club that Edge could feel his own fear under the tidal wave of their terror. The delicious sensation strengthened him. Sharpened his senses. Edge enjoyed taking risks--he loved the challenge and potential rewards--but he knew when to cut his losses. This monster wouldn't be here without Ashtareth's blessing, and he had little desire to face her again under these conditions.
The panther matched the ghost's surprising speed and lured it farther into the hall. When it finally cleared the doorway, he blinked out of view. A brief rush of air marked his departure, and then he was gone from the club.
+ + +
We're clear. Where to, boss?
Anywhere but here, Ky. Anywhere but here.
...Keaton and Deirdre:
Blow after blow swept through the air, blade and club uniting again and again in a cacophony of shrieking collisions, sparks leaping from where Deirdre's sword occasionally grated against Catastrophe's crown, yet the sword never seeming to dent in the slightest. Its edge was probably magically reinforced or just extremely durable, not to mention the way it sliced through the air was impeccable; as though it were perfectly made for gliding and lashing with swift efficiency. The Gryphon handling the weapon was relentless, recovering from each singing strike, her face a schooled mask of determination as she observed Keaton from behind the flicks and swipes of her customized blade. Grunting slightly, Keaton twisted the handle of Catastrophe and thrust it forward, deflecting an attack, then took advantage of this momentary break in composure to swing it around in a wide arc, aiming deliberately for Deirdre's side.
Either fortunately or unfortunately, the Gryphon noticed the attack and jumped out of the way, keeping her wings folded against her back. One of the spikes encrusting Catastrophe's head grazed past her front, cleaving a jagged line through her shirt and jacket on her abdomen and barely opening the skin underneath. Encouraged by this almost-successful attack, Keaton grit her teeth in a barbaric smile and lifted her hand, which surged with red and purple electricity, preparing to conjure up the shadows behind Deirdre as she raced at her--
The two were so engrossed with their battle that they didn't notice Stygian arrive. Not until something--something too fast for either one of them to see--barreled past them, knocking both weapons upright and jostling the combatants' postures. Deirdre yelped and struggled to maintain her balance as she swaggered and watched with shock as her sword was went flying; Keaton growled indignantly as Catastrophe jerked and nearly, uncontrollably hit her in the head.
Then both women heard Stygian roar at them.
Two pairs of eyes, one membrane-caked and the color of sulfur, the other mismatched and chocolaty, swiveled simultaneously around to stare at the bat. In spite of how intimidating he looked, Keaton felt her face break out into a wild grin, the meaning of which was obvious. Stygian had made it out of the club alright! Not to mention everyone else probably did too, she hoped, but right now she desperately needed someone to deter this messy confrontation. She had no qualms with taking down Deirdre, but it was too inopportune for her liking, not to mention the Gryphon was surprisingly and disarmingly aggressive in her fighting style. Not like how she remembered...
Meanwhile, Deirdre's eyes widened in shock as Stygian advanced, looking thunderstruck. The bat from before. The one in the club. He was the monster. Deirdre glanced, horrified, between Keaton and Stygian, then, disregarding her normally tame language, cursed. "FUCK," she hissed.
"It's about time..." Keaton exhaled gratefully.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya came out of the zone of darkness with an irritated scowl creasing her muzzle. She swiped her claws at the shadow-things as they dissipated, then took a moment to smooth her ruffled tail fur. Her grip on her staff tightened when Sebastian picked her up and led the way out of the window. I really must find out what is wrong with my Levitation spell, she thought just before their landing knocked the breath from her lungs. Oomph... one more thing to ask Sebastian about later. Then she paused for a moment. Had she really seen the white vixen sprout a pair of wings, then change into a white leopard and fly down to the ground? She looked around at the others: the vixen was certainly gone, and the party now included a snow leopard who hadn't been there a moment before. A wingless snow leopard.
The little stoat gave herself a quick shake. Worry about it later. She followed Sebastian and the others around to the front of the building, arriving just in time to see the bat break up a fight between an odd, birdlike winged creature with an implausibly long sword, and one of the people who had gone into the back rooms with the bat: she wielded an equally hefty mace as if it weighed nothing. At least, she wore the same dress and had a similar expression: on a second glance, Kerya realised she'd turned into a jackal.
She strode forward, to a point just behind and to one side of the bat. "Sebastian, do you wish this... big angry turkey... securely bound for a little while, so we may flee safely?" she asked. She held her staff in the crook of her arm again. Her other arm was pulled back, as if to throw a punch, and small streamers of multicoloured light crawled over her clenched fist.
The bat glanced sideways at Kerya for a fraction of a second, then returned his glare to Keaton and her surprise assailant. He was fairly sure he had seen that one inside the club earlier. He closed his eyes and shook his head. 'I'd have done it myself if I thought it necessary. We can't mess around,' he muttered, and then directed his pitch-black eyes at Keaton. Deirdre could just catch the slightest glint off his hidden pupils. 'We need to go, Keaton. Come on.'
The bat turned on the spot and started jogging back toward the other part of the alley and the others.
Aisha had an incredulous look on her face, regarding the window. "Jump. From two stories up." Her voice turned into a mutter as she held her forehead between two fingers, glancing at Gareeku to see his reaction to all of this...however, the club's apparent quaking beneath the feet of the group was quite the incentive to leave. The others were jumping, and certainly, the panthress wasn't one to be left in the dust. When it was her turn, she sidled toward the window and peered down with narrowed eyes. Peh. It's a good thing I've leaped from trees that were higher. Just a little harder landing. She had her boomerang in one hand then. And then there's more creative approaches.
One foot on a quaking sill, followed by the other, the panthress crouched and seemed to take on an appearance in the darkness like that of a feral jaguar. Had it not been a dangerous undertaking and a fight that they were running from, Aisha would have worried about her dress catching on something...one can decide for themselves whether it was good or not that the fabric ended a little short for that. With a whip of her arm, the boomerang flew through the air...and with another whip, came back and struck the side of the building just a bit below the level of the window. It made for a relatively short platform to aim for.
With that, the panthress leaped, bounded quickly enough from the edge of the trinket with one foot that the weight wouldn't stress it, launched toward and bounded off of the opposite building with the other foot, and landed with less-than-perfect grace on the garbage and dust-strewn ground. She called the enchanted saw-edged blade back to her grip.
While doing so, Aisha looked around at the others gathered, among those a stoat, a snow leopard that had to be Mel, the once-temporarily-absent Undead, and somewhere nearby she could hear the voice of another stranger. The panthress leaned against the wall, indignantly brushing the edge of her dress down again while everyone gathered. "So I guess we have more poor saps stuck with us," she said, a smirk on her face to denote she was joking, while replacing the weapon on her belt.
Poor saps sounded about right to Richard as he brushed himself off, grumbling. The clamor down the alley caught his attention briefly. With the way things had gone so far, it was probably more trouble.
"You folks seem to attract poor saps. I miss anything interesting?" He double checked his tomahawks, Yes, still tucked into my belt loops. Thank god. Marya woulda killed me. "Manage to blow anything up on the way here, kill anyone famous, stuff like that?"
Mel turned and saw Ignatz had broken up the noisy fight and was returning along with Keaton and the little mage. If it weren't for the chaos of the burning club they would be the main attraction of the milling crowds. "Ignatz, any specifics you would like to share for Plan B?"
Silenced by the bat's spell and trapped by darkness against the stone walls of the club, Leartes roared silently and invisibly as the bat made his escape. The priest wrenched his hand, freeing it momentarily from the grasping darkness, and used what little free movement he had began to hack at the paralyzing shadows. The light on the blade of his scythe flared invisibly as he cleaved at the darkness.
In the back of his mind, the Jackal could feel the oncoming rush of...something. Some presence was coming, and despite his...loathing to leave the bat, he couldn't fight all of them at once. Even the bat, who had proved far more resourceful and resilient than he'd thought, was running.
Laertes pried himself off the wall in short order,scything his way through the darkness and then out of the receding bubble of umbra. Taking a moment to stare at the darkness, he let go of his scythe, the thing fading into the air, and began to cast his own recall as well. A few short moments and mystic passes later, and the Jackal simply disappeared.
* * *
Cog leaned against the wall, his face neutral. He raised an eyebrow and turned to look down the alley, pushing himself off the wall to see Keaton and some gryphon fighting in the middle of the street. Pausing for just a moment, he started forward, a sigh on his lips.
He stopped, Stygian and that ferret woman from earlier breaking Keaton and this strange avian up. Cog leaned back against the wall, his face blank again, and behind his shades he looked around, taking count of the party.
Aisha, Mel, Stygian, Keaton...uh...Gryphon, Ferret, Richard...hm.
"We're missing the other Cubi." the wolf stated, his voice calm. "And the other wolf."
...Keaton and Deirdre:
Aside from their previous exclamations, both women were utterly paralyzed as in how to react to Stygian's appearance, if only for a little bit in Keaton's case. Resiting the urge to grin maniacally at this favorable turn of events, Keaton swept Catastrophe around in an elegant arc and tucked it behind her back with one arm, smirking offhandedly at Deirdre. The Gryphon was too stunned by Stygian's arrival--and their increasing audience of ragtag adventurers and assorted Creatures--to react, initially petrified, but soon thawing as she steadily began to observe her options.
More people. Apparently allied with the jackal. Excellent odds, that--excellent. Deirdre hadn't taken on so many adversaries at once before. She was, after all, only one (retired upon the doctor's insistence) Adventurer. Despite her meditative state, however, she couldn't help but feel indignant at Kerya regarding her as a "big angry turkey," which was immediately reflected in her appalled expression.
"What?!" she demanded, outraged.
Keaton laughed hysterically, flashing Deirdre an arrogant grin which further riled the incensed Gryphon's ire. "Seems they have you down pat," she smirked. When Stygian stated that they had to leave, Keaton's grin vanished altogether and she nodded affirmatively to him. Darkness slipped in thick tendrils onto her body, then knitted together to form a holster for Catastrophe to fit snugly into, which she quickly occupied. Once unarmed, she dusted her hands off.
"Right! Understood! Just one minute!" Keaton called over, then spun around to face Deirdre, a surprisingly placid smile on her face. For understandable reasons, Deirdre didn't like the look of it one bit--it was clear that something was wrong. Unconsciously, she groped for her belt, only for her to realize all over again that the bat-monster had unarmed her.
She realized it just as Keaton's fist came flying toward her face.
There was a hideous, crepitating crack and a cry of pain as Deirdre went flying backwards with force almost disproportionate to Keaton's diminutive frame, limbs not even reacting in the slightest until the moment she hit the ground, side-first, a few inches from her discarded blade. Agonizingly, she took a shuddering breath, twitching, then went limp--not dead, but subdued. Quite efficiently subdued. Looking just the slightest bit satisfied behind the thick layers of grim, fatalistic calm, the aftermath of the once insane look which hellishly illuminated her face during the impact of her fist against Deirdre's face, Keaton fanned her hand out, flexed the knuckles, and turned around to face the others.
She didn't even stop to look at them when she bypassed the group, following Stygian.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Adressing Mel, Stygian spoke hurriedly, slowing down to a marching pace when he came closer to the rest of the group. 'Get the Hell out of here, basically. The city. I will get my bike, you jack a car and then we can catch a ship, perhaps,' he said, then seemed to think the better of it. 'No, a train would be better. Faster.' He headed toward the other exit of the alley, when suddenly something drew his gaze and he stopped.
At the very end of the alleyway, a figure was standing, somehow standing out against the background though not apparently odd in any fashion. It seemed to be the lighting, somehow. It was a man, a canine, dressed in strangely old-fashioned clothes, staring around confusedly, slightly hunched and tense as if expecting to have to run at any moment. When he turned around to look at them, and they could get a look at his haggard face, his eyes widened in shock as they fixed on Stygian. For a short second he seemed to flicker, somehow, and then he opened his mouth, letting out a terrible cry of fear that seemed to travel worlds before it reached them, and turned around. His figure glowed like flame, became almost translucent, and then he ran right through the wall behind him, disappearing.
Stygian didn't even flinch, but his eyes traveled instantly to the sky, already darkened somehow. Something cracked red up there, and the bat gritted his teeth.
'Too late.'
The ground shook, and a crack formed right down the alley. The surroundings seemed to darken and grow dim, slowly but surely. And then the end of the alleyway caved in, dust blowing and stone crumbling and clattering. A pair of roof tiles fell to the ground next to Richard and shattered. And even as the shaking stopped, scraping noises were still heard from the hole that had formed in the street. The voices from behind them, coming from the club entrance, rose prominently.
'Back the other way! Go!' Stygian shouted, and spun on his feet, breaking off at a run as a shadowy form began rising from the rubble.
Richard turned his attention toward the fiasco at the other end of the alleyway, catching the end of the discourse between Keaton and... that gryphon from inside the club? A look of surprise crossed his face at Keaton's out-of-nowhere strike. He looked away and pulled his coat closer around his neck. Bah. Probably none of my business. Just because I didn't run into her inside the club doesn't mean she isn't one of probably numerous employees of Stygian's ex. Why else would Keaton attack her?
Briefly, he considered the multitude of possible answers this group was likely to give to that question up to and including 'I like the feel of broken beak on my knuckles.' He sighed and turned around, passing by Stygian and Keaton wordlessly. Damn, this is just too goddamn sappy. You know what? Our heaviest hitter got shrugged off like he was nothing to Laertes. We can't afford too many more enemies. That's why I'm doing this. Yeah. Rationalization; a tricky process for a misanthropist.
"Hey," He reached out to Deirdre, "Need a-?" Wait. A man who hadn't been there at the other end of the ally a second ago was attracting attention. And then he screamed, and things went to hell again. "Gah!" the undead jerked away from tiles falling from the roofs, the ground split, everyone charged toward him.
The dead man blinked once and groaned, grabbing the gryphon's shoulder as he turned to run. "Aw fuck, what'd they do now?"
Kerya let the spell in her hand dissipate and turned to follow Sebastian. She kept an ear cocked for any sign of further trouble from the bird-creature, but something made her turn her head just in time to see the other fighter, the jackal, flatten the creature with a single punch. She perked her ears at that — the jackal didn't seem to be that strong — then resumed walking back down the alley towards the others.
The situation chose that very moment to take yet another turn for the worse. Something happened at the other end of the alley, that she couldn't see because of the people in the way. She heard a scream, then the alley was split in half by a long fissure in the ground and the rumble and crash of collapsing masonry filled her ears. Kerya turned and ran, right behind Sebastian and keeping an eye out for anything falling from the roofs on either side.
Before Stygian had taken even half a dozen steps past the others, a horrid shrieking sound, not shrill but terribly cruel and loud, rose from the pit, soon followed by another. The shadows at the edge of the hole looked up, and gained eyes, scrambling out with hissing breaths even as a larger form rose behind them. The air seemed thick and heavy around them, shadows deeper and lights sharper and more lurid, as if they were watching a dream. It was the same feeling that they had perceived on their way to the club, magnified several times over.
...Deirdre:From on the ground Deirdre remained eerily and moribundly still, the disarrayed and limp locks of her now-disheveled, boyishly-cropped hair concealing her face in tufted clumps. To the untrained eye she looked dead, but in reality she was just recuperating, stunned; and most certainly battered after her impromptu cranial introduction with Keaton's fist. Richard's first attempt to rouse her was met with initial failure, though a second later the Gryphon erratically stirred, twitching and stretching. Wearily, she lifted her head, exposing the thin trickle of blood oozing from her nostril. Appearing rather unfocused, Deirdre reached up shakily and clutched at her head, moaning incoherently. Her other hand groped for her sword, which lay a tantalizing few inches beyond her arm's reach.
Finally her fumbling hand's digits furled around the pommel of her sword just beneath its pappenheimer and she attempted to lift it. Mind was caught between swaggering drunkenly and attempting to conjure up intelligible thought, her thoughts and actions still sustaining an air of prolonged and emphasized dizziness to them, but such deliriousness vanished the instant the ground quaked and split open and the tiles rained from the rooftops. Instantly Deirdre was jolted out of her sluggish state, pupils pinpricked and body hastening to scramble to her feet as she was eased back up by Richard, momentarily stumbling on her heels but recovering a second later. Just in time for her to glare about, shocked.
"What the hell?!" she exclaimed, clenching her grip on her sword. Deirdre, despite all instincts yelling at her to fight, abandoned her aggressive Adventurer methods and pursued the others.
---
...Keaton:Keaton had caught up with Stygian a moment or so after she deserted Deirdre's battered body, briskly jogging within his range and staring, concentrated, about, scouting for any potential threats or menaces. As he listed the ways that they could escape Keaton kept her brow furrowed, teetering in and out of focus as the rain pummeled at her side. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep herself latched onto this current subject, and natural 'Cubi lack of attentiveness wasn't just to blame. No, that never came into play when their asses were on the line.
All attention was directed to the ghostlike hound standing at the other end of the alleyway, and the melancholy, horrific cry he emitted. That hideous shriek seemed to be the harbinger of the catastrophe--the groove which suddenly split the concrete-laden earth and the thundering in the clouds suspended overhead, the sudden pandemonium that raged and rampaged throughout nature itself, manipulating all logic and reason to achieve its frightening design. Stygian yelled at them to run, and Keaton knew better than to disobey, spinning around with a look of horror on her face as she whipped Catastrophe from its holster and dashed in the direction he had commanded for them all to run.
As the myriad of wicked voices and sounds swelled and gradually became more and more cacophonous, Keaton found her senses start to become overwhelmed by the bombardment of howls and whines and weeping cries. All horrid. But there was no time to stay and to marvel. All that mattered was to keep running.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The pavement, cracked and rent with this sudden...presence, and this sudden infestation of things and shadows terrible and frightful to see cast a decided pall on the otherwise unremarkable alley, the mood changing from immediate, sheer terror, to sudden disarray and then back to terror, ominous and dark. Shapes and forms moaned in the darkness, broken and eerie hands rose up out of the shadows, followed by yet more terrifying apparitions attached to them. Dead or living, Cog wasn't sure.
He could hear the crack of Keaton's fist on the strange newcomer's skull, and the proceeding thump of the avian's fall. Keaton's quick steps away were quickly followed by Richard's efforts at helping the Gryphon back to...its feet. A few drunken, or possibly stunned paces later, it began chasing after the others. Cog took a step back as well, his eyes peering into the darkness.
The wolf, still strangely silent, took another step back and then turned, quickly following the retreating Stygian.
Skittering claws sounded through the alley as Stygian ran past Deirdre and into the street, looking back and forth. He needed to get to his bike, but the others...
'Get a car!' he shouted back over his shoulder. His call was almost smothered as panicked people ran past him. Something was clinging to the wall of the club, holding a poor thrashing and screaming captive by the head with a clawed hand way off the pavement. Red light cracked in the thick clouds above and voices and screams were thick in the air.
The things that had emerged from the hole behind the rest of the group were closing in, apish figures nearing them in front of some horrid, arachnid-like thing clawing its way out of the ground. It was strange that it should be so dark, especially with fire blazing out of every window of the club. Yet the one thing they all saw clearly were the yellowish glowing eyes of the nearing abominations.
Before anyone of them could reply, Stygian had thrown himself through the commotion and past a screeching, honking car in the street, heading away.
...Deirdre:
Any numbness or disorientation Deirdre felt after her valiant struggle to rise to her feet had evaporated altogether when she realized the calamity that was unfolding around her, her body instantly lurching into motion and clumsily forcing itself into relatively graceful motion--and failing. Mobility was gained, but at the personal expense of any and all stability in her posture, though at that moment Deirdre didn't give a rat's ass about whether or not she looked like a competent Adventurer or a moron. All that mattered was surviving. She was not going to die here. Not now, not even when she was teetering on the precipice of Hell itself.
As she fumbled with her sword she instinctively reached behind her as she ran and snatched Richard by the sleeve, dragging him along with her during her mad dash for freedom. Deirdre assumed it would be appropriate--after all, the Undead had bothered to assist her, so why couldn't she assist him? She relinquished his arm, shouting, "Come on! You helped me, I'll help you. Get your ass in gear!"
In the midst of that conclusion she stared around, frantically in search of her destination. There was no hope of fighting all these--things. Her only option was to escape.
Trying desperately to ignore the screaming of the stampeding people and the hideous sounds the creature terrorizing them was eliciting, Deirdre continued her search until her membranous gaze landed on a familiar red blur parked nearby. Immediately, Deirdre's expression brightened. Her car. Perfect. Running up to the vehicle, Deirdre quickly scooped her scabbard off the ground from where it was resting against the bulky car's wheel and sheathed her sword, then rummaged through her pocket for her keys. A second later she resurfaced with the key in hand, and unlocked the car doors with a press of the button on its activation pad.
Hopefully the Undead would've followed. Deirdre scrambled around the side of the car and leaped into the driver's seat, throwing her sword onto the chair beside her. She closed the door and prepared to rev the engine...
---
...Keaton:
Another escapee amidst the chaos was none other than Keaton, the jackal losing stride sometime after Stygian had sped past her, shouting for them to get a car. Despite the severity of the situation, Keaton felt her expression fall almost hopelessly, a dreadfully fatalistic thought creeping into her head. Wonderful. A car. She didn't know how to drive a car--well, okay, she did, but not very well. At most she would probably crash it a few feet from where she had pulled out, but that was irrelevant. Where was she supposed to get a car? Their last mode of transportation had been decimated, along with their driver...
Then she noticed the Gryphon running past her, much to her irritation. What was that trannie bitch doing up so quickly? Keaton's eyebrow arched, facial features contorting into something akin to distaste that Deirdre hadn't remained as thoroughly subdued as she wanted her to...
But those thoughts quickly faded after she saw what Deirdre was running towards.
A car. Face brightening, Keaton's almost mad grin returned to its customary position on her face, and she gestured sharply for her companions to follow her. "Come on!" she shouted. Quickly, she formulated a plan. Deirdre would never let her drive. Especially not after she had suckerpunched her and--well, those memories were insignificant. So there was no other option than to take advantage of the chaos and Deirdre's lack of time. Questionable reasons for possessing such a large vehicle aside, the car was quite large, and could probably house all of them, if they all sandwiched close together...
After Deirdre jumped into the car and prepared to start the engines Keaton jerked open the door and bounded into a seat. Instantly noticing her, Deirdre's eyes widened, then narrowed, her beak baring indignantly as she glared virulently at the intruder. "YOU!" she growled, "Get the hell out! NOW!"
Keaton didn't even bother feigning a laugh. She kicked open the door and skidded to the side, making sure to leave enough room for the other potential occupants. With any luck, the missing Incubus and Gareeku would arrive in the nick of time. "Save your bitching for later. We need a getaway car. You have one. Drive."
"You punched in my face. Piss off," Deirdre hissed. "Or I'll make you."
"Oh please, do you think you have the time to fight me?" Keaton asked, trying to keep herself from sounding mocking. She had to strike some chord of reason within Deirdre's brain, and as tempting as it was to infuriate her for her sick entertainment, Keaton knew that wouldn't be prudent, given the circumstances. "Besides, these guys have nothing to do with you. Do you really want their deaths to be on your conscience?"
Ouch. Now that was a good way to stab at Deirdre's altruistic instincts. Tapered ears of mismatched hue flattened at first as though discouraged, then lifted a centimeter as determination flared in Deirdre's features. Her chest puffed out briefly, then she exhaled, scowling at the people who piled into the car. "Fine. I'll let you all come with me," she stated, "But if any of you attack me while I'm driving, I'd like to see any of you take control of the car as it goes off a cliff." Almost clinically, she turned back to the window, nervously fidgeting and wringing at the steering wheel. "Where to?"
"When everyone's showed up, follow the bat," Keaton explained. "You, and all of us, are as good as dead if you don't."
And you're as good as dead when this is over, too, she mentally added.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The sudden split in the earth of the alley and subsequent onrush of beasts got Mel running towards the front of the building but she was blocked from going any further by the screaming crowds dashing back and forth in the roadway in front of the club. Ignatz disappeared into that crowd, shouting back at them to get a car. They couldn't even get out of the alley, how were they supposed to get a car? Mel gave the few nearest a discrete blast of stinging ice to get them moving in the correct direction. The griffon dashed into the gap she had made and towards a red car. Keaton followed despite their recent fight. Mel followed followed both.
Richard ran alongside the gryphon, stumbling every so often as she tugged on his sleeve. He knew he wasn't moving at top speed, what with Ace sending her stiletto into his foot, but the tugging threatened to trip him. "Yessir getting ass in gear sir!" He yelped, lurching out of the way of some other horror. What was really unsettling was how, even in all the light of the burning Red Sands, one could discern no details of these creatures other than that they were violent. Something that ate and ate, even consuming whatever light tried to touch them.
Ye gods, but he hated them. They were like a child's impression of the worlds problems, simply occurring from nowhere to do harm. Ugly caricatures of true problems, trivializing what they were based upon in their display of brutality.
For the most part, this just made him run faster. He staggered around a fallen bystander, about to be finished by some other beast. He almost slowed, stopped, tried to do something... But there was no time. He always got confused, when he felt bad for people. He didn't trust them as a whole, and the ones who he actually liked could probably be counted on one hand. So why did he feel so shitty, then, about not being able to save them?
The musician snapped out of it by the sound of keys scrabbling into the lock. He clambered in with a yelp of "Thanks," and was soon assaulted by another problem. This problem, unexpectedly enough, was Keaton. He'd somewhat expected better out of her; she had also struck him as one of the less dumb members of this little expedition, and then he found out that not only was the person she'd slugged their best ticket out of this situation, but that she still persisted in pissing them off WHILE THEY HAD THEIR HANDS ON THE WHEEL. I must not strike her. Must not. C'mon, Richard, you've never believed in cruelty to the retarded before. The undead pressed his forefingers to his brow as he composed himself, sighed...
"Gryphon, ignore what she says save for the actual advice. It's pretty useful, although delivered inexpertly. Keaton," the zombie then turned toward the succubus, sunken-eyed stare as serious as the grave as his gaze bored into her eyes, "I know I shouldn't be asking favors after trying to wash my hands of all this, but I really need this from you. As a matter of fact, if you do this before me I think I just might never ask anything of you again. Keaton..." Richard paused, closing his eyes briefly as he arrayed his words in his head.
"I desperately, on a deep and personal level as well as a professional one, need you to shut the hell up."
While she had waited in the alley, looking around at both the current company and the newcomers that would soon be with them, Aisha was getting somewhat worried. The chaos hadn't died down, especially according to the argument her ears had picked up from the alleyway. She watched the window that they had jumped from, hoping that Gareeku would join them soon. A couple of people from the group were indeed missing, now that Cogidubnus had pointed them out. All in all, it was quite a mess.
And that was when the bat returned with Keaton, and she looked up, listening to him answer Mel's question on what to do next...doubtfully she believed it would have something to do with getting out of that town, and quickly. Her eyes widened at hearing what they had to do though. I honestly do NOT think that some of us would approve of stealing a car...but...if it had to be done...
Then, courtesy of a stranger across the alley who turned out, due to the extreme disbelief in Aisha's eyes, to be a spirit, things went completely awry once more. There suddenly came a feeling in the air...something she couldn't quite describe other than encompassing, sickening darkness... pervaded her senses. Right after she noticed her enchanted tail ring flash blinding emerald, the ground had virtually split open...admitting shadows from the ground. Rubble was raining on them from the sky.
Her heart started to race, and she had started to run with the group, completely confused about the whole ordeal. She wanted to know what the hell was going on...and hopefully they would know soon. But in her field of hearing, she could hear Stygian ordering them to rush out of the alley, as fast as they could. But Aisha stayed in place, her hand on her sword, insistent. "I'm not leaving without Gareeku!" she roared. After all, she promised, and if he would come out after this hell...
But the insistence that they just run was too overwhelming to ignore. The creatures were swarming the alley...the feeling was intense...somehow she just sensed that these were things that they just couldn't fight. Even when the best fighters were running...
There was no choice. She couldn't stay. With a cry of frustration, Aisha ran after the group just as they noticed Stygian rushing off himself, and the crowd now dispersing from the club and running in sheer panic. Aisha clutched her head, wondering what they were supposed to do. Dammit, dammit... Then she heard Keaton's voice, beckoning the group to follow her. Looking in that direction, she saw why. There was a car, a good size hopefully for everyone to just scrunch into somehow.
Aisha took one last look in the direction from whence they came...and thought she saw a familiar blur of white. "Gareeku!" her voice rose over the panic. "Hurry, this way! We can't stay and fight them! Let's get out of here!"
Hoping the wolf had heard her, Aisha waited for him before dashing across to the car, where Keaton was already "negotiating" with the driver. Winded, the panthress nodded to the strange Gryphon as she arrived, next to Mel and Richard as well, while looking for somewhere for them to sit. "We'll be grateful for the help," the adventurer addressed the stranger, with sincerity, and waited for the others.
Things got even worse as Kerya ran along the alley behind Sebastian. The noises behind them suggested something was following — something nobody sane would want to be caught by. It didn't help that as they came out into the main street, they were all held up by a panicked mass of people running back and forth. Sebastian vanished into the crowd, using his size to brush people aside as if they were cubs.
After a moment, a gap opened up. The little stoat had no idea where she was going, but if these people thought they could escape, following them as they rushed across the street struck her as a good idea. She came out the other side of the mob only slightly ruffled: her staff had seen some use as an "encouragement" to give her a little more room. The others were crowding into one of the carriages she'd seen all over the city while she'd been here. As the jackal held a door at the back open, she dove in, angling her staff so it wouldn't knock anyone senseless. The seat was already nearly full, so she wriggled onto a shelf behind it. There was barely enough room to lay her staff down: Kerya herself only fit if she curled up against the window at her back.
"What now?" she asked, with only a little nervousness in her voice and scent. They were still far too close to the burning building, and now that she could see some of the... things... crawling over and around it for the first time, she only wanted to get away.
People were starting to disperse, scattering with that surprising speed that can sometimes be mustered from anyone when pressured or frightened enough. A few cars sped off, tires screaming, watched by prowling forms on rooftops around. People shoved into the group as they came into the street. And then there was Deirdre and her car.
Richard had just finished his speech to the aggravated jackal when a sudden tug jerked out the driver door and a man with a desperate look on his face grasped and grabbed at Deirdre, trying to yank the gryphon out of her seat, obviously intending on taking the car. Before she could respond with more than a kick though, something heavy hit the roof of the overmotorized vehicle, reached down and ripped up the man's back, hurling him off. A pair of glowing eyes in an all too sapient but horridly fiendish turned toward the others, and the crouching thing hissed, baring long fangs and a hanging tongue. It reared and then lunged at Mel, the first one in immediate reach.
The wolf walked forwards quickly, pausing only to stumble rather unceremoniously on a pothole situated right in front of him. He hobbled for a few steps, getting his weight back under him, and managed to stride out into the main street.
The gryphon that Keats had been beating on apparently owned a car - stumbling around in a rather unsettling way for only a moment, she centered in on a red-colored vehicle and pausing only to fish out her keys and open the door jumped inside. That zombie from before, Richard, practically leapt in after her, and Keaton followed shortly after that. A person stepped in front of him, however, and as a crowd suddenly passed by Cog lost sight of the car.
The throng of people was thick, and they ran and moved in a downright panic - trying to get through them was nearly impossible, and held the danger of possibly getting trampled. From the sounds emanating from behind him, though, staying was simply suicidal. The wolf took a step back, bringing his arms together, and taking a step into the crowd pushed outwards in an almost swimming motion, creating a small gap for him to wedge into. Pushing forward, the wolf made some headway to the other side of the street, catching glimpses of the red car as he got closer.
After much jostling and almost tripping several times, the wolf managed to get through, and had a clear sight of the car. Cog's eye narrowed. Someone had the driver's door open, and was trying to pull the gryphon out. Cog, still silent, simply grabbed at the sword at his waist and began to briskly walk towards the fellow. He stopped suddenly, however, his eyebrow raising as a large....ghoul, of some sort, fell without warning on top of the car.
It threw the man off the car with ease, shredding its back in the process, and turned it's attentions towards Mel. It lunged at the cat, long fangs bared.
Cog ran towards the car, breaking his silence and muttering a curse under his breath. It didn't seem like anything was ever simple with this group - he held onto the hilt of his sword as he ran, trying to get close enough to kill it.
Mel was standing beside the car when a desperate escapee from the bar shoved her aside, trying to pull the griffon from the vehicle. The disguised dragon was about to yank him backwards when something did a much more efficient job of it. Unfortunately it turned it's attention to her, grabbing towards her with long arms. Instinctively she jumped, up and backwards at the same time, wings reforming simultaneously with the leap. In her leopard disguise the wings were feathery, but larger than those of an angel. Now higher than the car and the monster she slashed outward, three pulses of air, each like a baby tornado if a tornado could be flattened into a disk as thin as a razor blade and thrown.
Seeing the approaching attack, Gareeku dived out of the way, before everything went dark.
"Fucking great." the wolf muttered. Suddenly however, he then felt pulled by something as voices whispered around him. Before he knew it, he and the others were standing by a window. Watching the others climb out into the street outside, Gareeku then searched the room. As far as he was concerned, if there was anything that would help to explain what the hell was going on, he would be glad to get his hands on it.
Realising after a little while that there was nothing, the wolf then jumped out in the alley below. Noticing the others had gone, he then made his way into the crowd.
Cog danced backwards, the dragon in front of him suddenly sprouting wings and leaping up into the air - and with a few deft movements called to the winds, sending three whirling discs of wind at the creature. Glowing faintly with the influence of magic, the discs made a slow zigzag through the air before coming together at different points on the ghoul's body.
They paused for only a short second, encountering the sudden resistance, before sawing completely through the body almost instantly. The wind, moving at such incredible speeds and narrowed to a razor-edge through the use of magic passed through the flesh only a little slower than it did the air. With a spray of blood and barely a scream, the zombie fell to literal pieces, the whirling discs separating its head from its body, and then its lower legs from its suddenly-divided torso.
Cog raised an eyebrow, looking up at the dragon floating overhead. A deceptively powerful spell - not to mention her earlier attack on the Angel. Cog nodded, grinning. She seemed quiet and meek, but the dragon definitely knew her way around spellcasting.
The car, however, was getting full - to his surprise, however, the shotgun seat was empty. Running around the vehicle quickly, Cog opened the door and only barely caught the sheathed pappenheimer-esque blade falling out - Cog raised an eyebrow, the inner swordsman in him noting the strange design for a blade with a pappenheimer hilt, and almost took another second to pull the thing from the sheath and examine it when he remembered where he was. Maneuvering the thing so that he could crawl and sit under the sword, the wolf practically lept into the front passenger seat, the blade resting over his shoulder.
He gave a momentary glance to the gryphon seated in the front seat, and then to the others in the back, noting all of those present. They still needed Mel, but that should take care of itself in a moment. He looked at the gryphon again.
"You have interesting taste in swords, good sir." he said, tapping the leather sheath.
Richard barely had time to finish impressing upon Keaton the utmost importance of tact in a "we're gonna die" situation when something ripped the door off the car. For a second he had the impression that the man trying to yank Deirdre out was the culprit, and then something threw him. Before the undead could so much as kick the thing away it took an interest in Mel, who dispatched it.
Meanwhile, more people had entered the car. They acquired a few more, and thankfully the more level headed members of the group he remembered. At least, he corrected himself mentally, I thought they were level headed. By comparison.
He watched the pieces of the beast on the roof fall away as Mel killed it. He moved about a little, noticing they were running out of space. This close in, the smell of all these people around him so tense, so mad...
So alive.
Alright, calm down Richard. Mind over matter. I'm better than my... The musician shut his eyes as tight as he could, wiped the corner of his mouth, Urges. He happened to glance at Kerya and brought himself under control, the fear evident on her face bringing him to his senses like a splash of ice water across the brain.
"Don't worry, they're not getting in here," he rasped, nodding toward her, "Just stay calm."
More ghoulish figures hinted at the corner of the street, closing on them, and it only took seconds for the killed to be replaced by a new one. This figure seemed different though, somehow. Much less ragged, though its hissing and snarling and sharp fangs and claws were unmistakable. It was only when it pounced on and grabbed Aisha that the difference was noticed.
'Oh, God...! Help me!' the thing foamed, its voice horribly distorted, moaning and panicked. The panthress looked up into the mare's face, twisted in terror and by blackish veins, spreading under her skin. Her eyes glowed a fiery color, and for a second Aisha thought she could somehow see another face behind the horse's, snarling. 'It... hurts! HELP ME!' she shrieked, lifting the huntress off the ground with impossible ease, her fingers closing around the feline's neck.
Quite suddenly, something rumbled behind them in the street, and then a red flash of lightning split the sky, reflecting off the thick clouds high above and for an instant illuminating the looming, steep-roofed buildings. They seemed not beautiful or tasteful any longer, just dark and jutting, wedge-shaped forms cutting the sky. A shudder went through the ground, and they heard a sharp crack. Up ahead, water sprayed out of the road as a pipe was broken.
Aisha had stayed near the car for a while, watching and waiting for the others through the chaos of the crowd having to disperse around them. She became more concerned...Gareeku didn't seem to hear her calls. It was hard to discern where he had gone...she just hoped that he had escaped the creatures.
But seeing the recent disturbance had brought her out of those thoughts. Someone from the fleeing crowd rushed in and tried to force the gryphon from her seat, intent on taking the car...and before anything could be done, he was taken care of by one of the most hideous things she'd probably ever seen, before it picked a target: Mel.
Aisha was knocked back slightly by the force of the magic that she had sent against it in retaliation...the creatures were getting closer, and everything was getting more and more overwhelming. They couldn't take much more.
The panther was intending to just hurry to the others and tell them to get the hell out, before she was promptly knocked over and grabbed. The force of the attack was quite unexpected...her Dragonblade was shaken from her grip, and she let out a loud roar. Shocked, Aisha stared wide-eyed up at the face of the strange equine who was screaming in pain, begging for something to end...there was a presence she couldn't pinpoint...
All concentration was gone then as the mare gripped her neck. Unable to reach her boomerang from that position, Aisha just tried to pry her grip off, kicking at the creature with outstretched claws on her feet. All around them, the sky was conjuring an unholy storm, and water spewing into the sky signified the very earth was losing it. They others had to move!
"Get...going...don't...!" she managed to gasp to the others, growling with insistent urgency as she swiped at the possessed mare's face. Her own expression was twisted in a grimace of choking anger, feet kicking as she was lifted...if she could just find a way to reach her boomerang...
Kerya was beginning to reconsider perching right at the back of the carriage. Her view out of the window behind her was only of a narrow slice of the street, and the doors blocked off most of her view to the sides. And someone's head was in the way when she tried to see who barged in at one of the front doors. She could see the snow leopard jump up (and not come down again), but that was all.
One of the people who'd found a seat turned to give the little stoat a few reassuring words, but that only added to her worries. He was tall and thin, white-haired with greyish-brown fur, and yet another species she didn't recognise. Even in the dim light inside the carriage, though, she was sure she could see... pieces... missing from his muzzle and throat. He seemed friendly, and uncannily talkative for a zombie — if he really was one — but still, it made her uneasy. The noise of another struggle just outside came from somewhere out of view, and she wriggled about to try to see what was happening.
What kind of people are Sebastian's friends, she asked herself, not for the last time that night, she suspected. And where is he?
From her aerial view the dragon could see the onrushing water and the onrushing zombies. The ground was shaking like an animal trying to rid itself of a plague of pests. Aisha was down but in a moment the car would be beyond escape. "Drive. We will meet you," she shouted to the griffon behind the wheel. With a sweep of an arm a strong blast of wind made a momentary clear spot in the road in front of the vehicle. "Go!"
...Keaton and Deirdre:
Both Gryphon and jackal were momentarily jostled from their exchange of insults and threats at Richard's interjection. Deirdre reacted with absolute surprise as she craned her head around to stare, wide-eyed, at the Undead primate, with ears quirked upright and eyebrow arched to the top of her finely-sculpted forehead. Meanwhile, Keaton appeared nothing short of indignant, maybe even enraged, her expression exuding infuriation. Brandishing her fangs, the jackal was just about to snarl an angrily-fired insult, probably regarding Richard's sterility, when Deirdre released a bloodcurdling scream.
Chocolate-hued irises swiveled towards the door, which was wrenched off of its hinges by the ghoul on the other side, and watched with shock as Deirdre attempted to scramble backwards, fending off the ghoul with her feet as she groped for her sword. She didn't caste any spells. None of them were ideal for using within a car--fire would ignite the gasoline in the tank, obviously.
Fortunately that tension didn't last long, as the ghoul was dispatched thanks to the whirling discs Mel fired. Cogidubnus entered the car, seating himself beside the shaken Gryphon and remarking on her choice of weapon. Deirdre normally would've responded in kind, but at the moment she was just in shock--regardless, she knew they couldn't stay any longer. She fumbled for her keys, twisting them in the ignition. Gripping the gear shift, she was about to slide it into position when Aisha was seized by another, shrieking mare.
Keaton screamed out a vicious curse. "FUCK! Aisha!" she shouted. Mel yelled something from above, then proceeded to clear the streets with another powerful gust of wind.
"Drive! We will meet you."
Deirdre stared reluctantly back at Aisha, clearly not wanting to leave the melanistic feline behind. Whether or not she was affiliated with someone she loathed, she didn't want any unnecessary blood shed. Keaton herself looked just as horrified at the idea of abandoning the feline, but, there was nothing else they could do. Stalling any further would just cement their doom. "Gods dammit!" Deirdre snarled. Inhaling shakily, she quickly prepared the car, engine roaring to life, and floored it, the tires whirling against the concrete as she sped off.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Every so often a flash of white could be seen in the crowd, there one second and gone the next. The exact identity couldn't be told, but it kept moving from one place to another. A pair of eyes scanned the area, looking for a way through to relative safety. Everywhere there was absolute chaos, with people running in all directions.
Then, he saw it. Held above the ground, Aisha seemed to be in the grip of an equine woman. It didn't take a genius to work out that something was clearly wrong. As the pantheress struggled to break free of the equine's grasp, as large flash suddenly lit up the surrounding area as she would feel herself become free of the equine's grip; a large blast of magic had thrown the seemingly possessed equine away. Aisha would then feel someone catch her in a pair of arms.
"You okay?" Gareeku asked as he looked at her, concern clearly evident on his face as he spoke. "I think it goes without saying that we need to get moving. I think there's a train station not too far from here. A mile or two maybe."
The many ghoulish creatures as well as the crying bystanders spread throughout the street, and were suddenly accompanied by more voices, distant and spectral like that of the man from before. Ghastly apparitions hinted amid the pandemonium, moving effortlessly through solid matter and air alike, forms shifting between corporeal and wispy, fiery forms.
When it seemed as if there was no easy exit, all passages blocked by the chaos or the destruction, finally the ground split. Flames gushed out, and something more; black and deep blue and purplish-hued tendrils, billowing amid the flames, as something rose from them. The other creatures backed up, avoiding the thing that came howling up from the underground.
If death could be given a face, then the unfortunates still standing outside the club were fairly certain that it would be something close to what they saw then. Wreathed in billowing darkness that seemed like a cloak around it, the thing rose and towered over the poor bystanders. The parts of its flesh that were visible were crumbling and decaying before their very eyes, gray and black flesh in a tall and gaunt physique with holes eaten in it. It had no face, just an off-white skull-like mask with dark openings for eyes. And in these glowed deep, dark purplish fires, flaring yet icy as they fixed on Gareeku and Aisha from above. The thing made a howling, mournful sound, bone-chilling and hollow, and stretched its bony, claw-like fingers for them, advancing on the adventurers.
Then, the creature's moaning was split by a louder, and far more steady sound. An engine revved high, and then came a metallic thump and a break in the roaring sound. Something flew from the side of the street and over a standing car, almost into the black monstrum, then hit the ground and skidded sharply around. There was a metallic clack as the white-clad figure on the black, sleek machine swung a large, dark gun at the wraith's face.
The sound of a short-barreled shotgun is always as characteristic and striking, but the explosion of the solid shell that followed was quite surprising. The black, hooded wraith let out a bone-jarring howl as the explosive slug ripped its mask and head asunder, and it shredded and crumbled into thin air. Stygian didn't spare it a second glance, but simply turned to eye the truck standing on the other side of the street, into which a pair of figures were right then trying desperately to break into, and then snapped his head around at Gareeku, Mel and Aisha.
'Holy shit, will you get in the car already?!' the bat snarled, then pulled back full on the throttle and burned around and off, tires screeching, in pursuit of Deirdre's escaping vehicle before too many of the remaining abominations could react.
Above the chaos, Aisha could hear tires screeching from all around, from those escaping. The atmosphere had grown darker, hellish, with ghouls rising from several breaks in the ground. However, that was hard to concentrate on...the panther was slowly choking from the equine's grasp around her neck, and fear was slowly setting in. But just as she thought everybody had left her to die, a flash of light filled her vision and she was able to take a deep, gasping breath as she was let go.
Expecting to feel the impact of the ground as she fell, she had her eyes closed...and unexpectantly had landed softly instead, thrown straight into someone's arms. Opening her eyes again, she was only partially surprised to find that it was Gareeku. There was just a pause, before her face registered a quick smile of gratitude, and she threw her arms around him. "Anyone ever told you that you are brilliant?" She chuckled. "Thank you."
Listening to him, however, she nodded her quick agreement and let herself down, picking up and replacing her weapons. "Yeah, we'd better..."
The sound of thunder and screeching interrupted the panther's speech. Looking around, there was panic, and more monsters ravaged the people around them. And above was quite possibly the most fearsome apparition, like a reaper, headed straight for the two stragglers...three, she recounted after a moment. Mel was hanging in the air, blasting a way out for the car, which now seemed to be too full to include them. There wasn't time to think or run from the thing then before Stygian suddenly appeared and shot at it, rendering it dead.
He roared at them to get in the car...just moments after said car dashed away from the scene, the bat following swiftly after them. "How the HELL can we do that?! None of us can drive!" Aisha roared back, clearly aggravated...the streets were covered with beasts, evil-made. But that was when she spotted a couple of other people fighting over a car, just trying to take it out of there. "Dammit..." she growled, turning her gaze between Mel and Gareeku, and drawing her boomerang. "I'd rather not have to help steal, but the situation doesn't call for morals. Come on."
After a moment, one of the two frightened car thieves, having managed to unlock it, would suddenly be roughly grabbed by the collar of his shirt and slammed against the side of the vehicle, a bladed dagger-like thing at his neck and an angry, red-eyed black jaguar in a dress with a sword at her hip. "Out of the way," she growled, and shoved the nervous guy off...at least they only looked like panic-stricken citizens, unarmed but for a lock pick.
She called out. "Gareeku, Mel, hurry! Ride!" She looked the both of them over, sighing. "I don't suppose any one of you does know how to drive. Else I'm going to fetch one."
Mel landed beside the truck. "Drive? I read a book about cars once. I understand the principles of how it works." She looked to the wolf but he didn't appear any more confident than Aisha so it looked like she was elected. Wings tucked away she slid into the driver's seat and looked down to find the first problem. Her book had shown three pedals; left for forward, middle for backwards, and right for stop with a lever to change the left to fast forward. She touched the dash with a hand, a jolt of electricity started the engine without resorting to the crank. Moving the lever one place to fast forward she pressed the leftmost of the two pedals to have absolutely nothing happen. Experimentally she pressed the remaining pedal. The car jerked backwards with one harsh jump. She pulled her foot off in surprise and the truck slowed. Experimentally she moved the lever another notch to no result. The third notch and the right pedal did the trick. With the truck moving forward she smiled bravely at her two rather nervous looking passengers. "I guess cars have changed a little more than I guessed in the last 150 years."
By the time Mel realized how quick the car could go if she changed into second gear, Kerya could see and hear Stygian as he came up behind the car ahead and swerved around them, pressed close to the tank on his large bike. He had stuck the shotgun down between his leg and the air filter, an awkward position as he swayed the motorcycle's tail up before them and around the cars on the road. There seemed to be fewer of those creatures around, but the sky was still dark and the surroundings just as inexplicably dark. It seemed that the whole town was under the effect.
Navigating the hectic traffic seemed more the problem than finding the way. So long as they were actually going away from the club, things were improving. But it didn't help that Stygian was basically doing eights around them, and that Deirdre with her cataracts was far from the best driver they could have picked, and was trying to dodge the bat as well.
A screech from above called Stygian's attention, and he looked up. The next second he was forced to pull hard out of the way to avoid a screeching winged something diving down for him. It clipped his ear and raked his cheek, nearly loosening the glasses he was wearing against the wind, then tumbled past and into the car instead. The windshield cracked as it struck, and thrashed all over the hood, blocking what little vision Deirdre had.
Cog felt himself press into his seat shortly after Dierdre slammed on the gas, the wolf glancing over at the panicked gryphon as they sped off. His head turned slowly back to the road, the wolf's ears suddenly standing on end and his hands suddenly digging into the armrest as they managed to just miss a car parked on the side of the road. He cringed again as they managed to somehow make it over a somewhat gaping pothole, and the wolf looked back over at Dierdre. His glasses fallen haphazardly down the bridge of his nose, the wolf looked at the gryphon with wide eyes.
"Are you sure you've driven this thing before?" the wolf said, glancing between the gryphon and the road. Gripping the armrest, the wolf chose a spot to stare outside the passenger window, and kept his eyes glued there. He studiously ignored the sudden and jarring jerks and swerves that occurred when least expected.
Cog twitched again as Stygian came up alongside them, the white-clad bat armed with a sawed-off shotgun as he drove. He began to simply figure eight around them, and Cog began to instead follow the bat with his eyes, his expression falling as he saw the creature fly out of the sky and attack the bat. His expression darkened yet again when the creature simply grazed Stygian, tumbling through the air straight at them.
He tried to crawl inside his seat, a deathly grimace painting his features. "Shit! WATCH OU-"
He cut short, the creature cracking and slamming into the windshield - Cog cursed, reaching for the button to roll down the windows. Dierdre wasn't the best driver under normal circumstances, and if he really couldn't see...
Richard nearly lurched onto his face as the car roared away from the source of the pandemonium, the Red Sands. If his stomach still worked properly the dead man would probably have regretted grabbing at the side of the car and keeping his head level with the window. Instead, he just regretted looking out the window. Deirdre was doing her best to keep dodging everything in their path, true, but that everything included shadows, discarded pieces of trash on the road, and the occasional leaf fluttering by. While he was impressed that the gryphon had avoided all these obstacles both real and imagined so far, the odds of her continuing to do so well were poor indeed and sooner or later he was certain she would end up colliding with something that was actually there.
The odds didn't improve when Stygian started doing tricks around the vehicle. It was probably best that Richard wasn't driving this time, as it was his opinion that when bikers start doing that the only logical conclusion would be to run into them. After all, they were the ones in the smaller, lighter, easily pushed over vehicle; only made sense for them to be the ones who got out of the way.
However, driving conduct was a tad vague on what to do when a large raptorlike THING slams into the windshield. Thus, with a yelp of "Ohfuck!" the zombie improvised as best he could. He nudged the back of the drivers seat, muttered "You may wanna lean forward or something," and reached forward to press the window switch down. With any luck, he could grab one of the things wings or something while it was flailing and yank it off the car.
More things moved past, catching up with the car at an unlikely speed as they made a turn, drifting wildly over the road. A spectral form passed right through the car and through Kerya, making the stoat go numb all over and then shiver painfully, the image of the screaming face caught on her retinas.
Outside the car, Stygian slid back behind the car to avoid being forced onto the sidewalk as it skidded, watching Richard reach out and grabbing the thing flailing and ruining the paintjob on the engine hood, starting to tug at it while it dug its claws into him. As they turned into a long straight street, the final one before the station, more of the things dove down against them. Hitting the clutch, Stygian let go of the accelerator and swung up the shotgun, firing as accurately as he could while driving with his left hand only. He ducked under one shrieking, winged thing, and hit the other in the chest and sent it tumbling into and over the car. Then he caught sight of what was ahead.
Of course they would, you idiot! the bat snapped to himself. Shit! This is going to suck. He stuck the shotgun in between his knee and the tank, and then accelerated past the car.
A long way down the street, about a kilometer or so, a man stood. Towering and grim in looks he was wreathed in mist, hovering around his shape and blurring the outlines of his coated form. His eyes dimly glowed an icy blue-green, fixed unerringly down the long street as he scowled at the approaching vehicles. He snorted.
People were still around the station, but most of them expressed quite some confusion and fright. They could see, if not directly sense, the strange shifting in the sky and the sudden darkness. Many lights had gone out in the whole town, for some reason. And a few were also staring at this imposing figure, standing right out in the middle of the street for no apparent reason and shrouded in mist. Most were moving away or inside.
The man reached behind him, and grabbed a handle sticking up over his shoulder. Still as a statue save for his arm, he swung a long, heavy mace, cruelly studded with spikes, down to his side until it almost touched the ground, the mist swirling around his movements. For a short instant, thunder cracked in the sky, and the light cast a shadow of wings that weren't there on the street below him. And then the first few drizzling drops of sudden rain started trickling down, another peal of thunder hitting closer this time.
Looking on as the others got into a car, the wolf grimaced. It seemed that they were travelling by car every five minutes. Getting in the car that Aisha and Mel had obtained, Gareeku held on as Mel got to grips with driving, grimacing slightly from the jerky ride.
Kerya was taken by surprise when the carriage suddenly lurched and shot forwards with an incredible amount of noise, a loud roaring and an earsplitting shriek. She realised there was still some room on the seat in front of her, no-one else had climbed in after all. Another sudden lurch made up her mind, the seat had to be more comfortable than sliding back and forth on the shelf. She wriggled back down and settled herself more comfortably, pulling her staff down as well and clutching it firmly against her shoulder.
She wondered briefly if the lurching and bouncing was normal. After all, this was the first time she'd ridden in one of these carriages. The others' reactions, though — shouting, clinging to their seats, flinching and closing their eyes — convinced her that her first thought had been right, the birdlike creature directing the carriage was completely and utterly insane. Then Sebastian appeared at last, riding an even noisier ridiculous-looking two-wheeled machine. What finally made Kerya curl up on the floor, though, was a winged monster crashing into the front window. That was actually a little better for a few moments: she could still feel every bounce and lurch, but not being able to see the obstacles they (hopefully) hurtled past was less nerve-wracking.
Then, as they do, things got worse. Wraithlike figures appeared from nowhere and flew around the carriage. The little stoat squealed and froze, body arched like a bow, then she collapsed in a shivering heap, sprawled half off the seat. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the wraiths float up through the roof: it must have passed right through her body. She stared wild-eyed about her, gasping for breath, her heart hammering in her chest, and squeezed herself into the corner between the seat and the door. Nothing worse than the rough ride happened over the next few minutes, and her fright gradually faded.
With haste, Aisha watched Mel as she approached and fiddled with the truck. Listening to what she said, the panthress had almost the same kind of grimace that the wolf had, while trying to find a way to fit in the vehicle. Her weapons were the only thing that hindered any kind of seating, so she placed them on her lap and hummed, trying to put something in her mind to quell the nervousness. Funnily enough, the first thing she thought about was, I wonder when I'll get to finally change out of this dress. All this running isn't good for it.
Then, when Mel got the thing moving, her claws latched on to the back of the seat. It was hard finding a way to fit a seatbelt. Having not been familiar with operating cars herself, though she has seen enough of them, at least someone had gotten it moving. It was a matter of moving it out of there.
"Maybe I should've threatened someone to drive for us," the panther muttered with a snort, and looked to the path ahead of them, hoping that it would be clear enough for them to be cooped up for two miles.
The clouds began to swirl above, and the rain began hitting the streets hard. Thunder struck once, twice, and the road began to slick unnaturally fast. Stygian skidded with the last turn past a car up ahead, racing out of sight of the ones behind. If I can just get him to follow me...! the bat thought.
There was a sharp crack as a lightning bolt struck right next to the motorcycle, ripping up the road and spraying sharp shreds of asphalt. Stygian swerved, and then dodged another flash that made a car jump and its tires explode. He reached down for his gun. Two shots left. This is going to be...
His thought was cut short as a crack ran through the road and down under him. The water lines! No! His grip slipping, he fumbled as he tried to turn out of the way, leaning dangerously. And then, from the end of the road, a blasting shockwave rushed forward, a thundering rush of water and crushed stone that flew up as the street was split in two. Stygian jerked and threw his bike around, skidding straight down the road, hoping that it would absorb the shock.
Richard managed to pull the thing blocking the view off just in time for the ones in the car to see the motorcycle being hurled up in the air, spinning around its length axis. Another form was flying next to it, tumbling like a thrown toy, amid the crushed stone that was rushing right toward them.
Richard was getting a far better look at the winged creature than he wanted, horrible limbs flailing and clawing. Oh gods, how he hated these things... With a final tug he managed to dislodge it from the windshield, smiling as the car jerked with the "thwump-BUMP" of the beast's last moments. Serves it right!
Another illuminating crash of lightning, silhouetting various shapes against a sky otherwise too dark to see them against.
The first, a furrae figure flying as though god had decided that, for a few moments, what he really wanted was a hackysack that could yell.
A motorcycle, spinning almost gracefully, and giving a useful hint as to who the first shape was. Crap!
The rest of the shapes? Nothing interesting. Just rocks.
"Ohhh..." The musician slumped back down the back of Deridre's seat, turning away and bracing himself. "... No." Really, it was all that needed saying.
...Deirdre:
Over the screeching of the tires, the screeching of those in the car, and the screeching of those outside of it, Deirdre was uncertain if she could even think straight. Amalgamated with her cataract-clad, blurred gaze and the raucous, riotous pandemonium raging in the beseiged city as it was overrun by monstrous demons and apparitional abominations, it was doing numbers to her normally carefully-constructed stability, pushing her dangerously toward the brink of breakdown. Despite all her impulsive urges which hadn't been smothered by her more predominant Adventuring instincts, Deirdre remained frighteningly resolute, or at least as resolute as one could possibly be in such a situation. She still looked terrified. But at the very least she wasn't breaking down. That was the very last thing they needed.
In the back, Keaton was relatively subdued, clinging to the handle of the door and uttering curse after curse under her breath, occasionally punctuated by a yelp when they swerved or pivoted too haphazardly around an obstacle or just barely skidded out of the way of an incoming projectile. A loud bump and another obscenity signified Deirdre to the fact Keaton had probably hit her head when she jerked the car to the side, making all occupants sway in their seats.
"What the FUCK, birdbrain?!" Keaton exclaimed, "Can you even DRIVE THIS THING?!"
Bitch. Deirdre would've liked to see her doing better. And her without her glasses... they were in such a state of panic Deirdre hadn't grabbed them from under the dashboard. It was far too late to grab for them now. Cogidubnus, while far more polite, had echoed similar questions about Deirdre's driving abilities, making the Gryphon grip the steering wheel tighter and glare at the contorting atmosphere looming before the glassy barrier of her windshield, so ripe with demons and so horrifying. Deirdre didn't say anything--
--Though she did in fact scream when the flying creature had plastered itself onto her windshield, obstructing her vision. Deirdre instinctively released the gas pedal the best she could, attempting to maneuver the car in a manner which would fling the unsightly beast off out of her eyesight, or at the very least pry it. Otherwise, for the first time, she actually seemed to be breaking down. She was breaking down. It shouldn't have happened to a former Adventurer. It shouldn't have. But in a way, this tangent of paranoid reasoning was almost understandable. Now she was totally helpless. They couldn't see where they were going. They were going to die if something didn't happen--
Breath after strangled breath escaped her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them wide, just in time to see the monster barricading their sight be pushed off by Richard's ministrations and the almost palpably electric shockwave coalesce toward them, throwing vehicles and detritus into the air almost in an immense, synchronized wave, as though the darkness itself were opening its very maw to welcome Deirdre inside, to swallow her whole and drag her kicking and screaming into the abyss.
Behind her, Keaton was peeking around the seat and letting out a stuttering gasp uncharacteristic of her previously abrasive nature. Even she had been shellshocked out of her last few words, only capable of murmuring a handful of quietly diminishing profanities as she watched Death itself approach. Deirdre didn't see her, but if she did, she would've realized how remarkably similar their expressions were, how their eyes widened and their ears flattened and how they both thought, at that moment,
I'm going to die.
Deirdre's hands, locked in a death-grip on the ribbed rubber of the steering wheel, clenched tighter and tighter to the point the cheap material squealed and her knuckles bulged beneath her skin. Screaming aloud, Deirdre twisted the steering wheel around, whirling it on its axis and forcing the car in a sharp turn which its mechanics probably couldn't sustain, tires grating and grinding against the chipped concrete. Foot collided with the pedal as Deirdre put as much force into that turn as possible, hoping against hope that this last-ditch evasive effort would work.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Mel's progress with the unfamiliar technology was uneven and jerking, but with the addition of a shielding spell to the vehicle it was rather more fearless than it perhaps should have been for a driver of no experience. Mel refused to look at any of the less likely creatures beside or in the road, nor at the vehicles she shared the road with and kept the truck going in a very straight line at a moderate pace, no matter how big the thumps and bumps against the shield were. The others had to be at the train station by now judging by the pace they had set. Mel hoped they could catch up and she pressed a little harder on the forward pedal.
The car managed to steer to the side, but only enough that it dodged the main part of the wave. The shock still hit it hard though, tearing into the right side of the car and making it bank sharply, before it too was thrown to the side. The rear right wheel was stripped of its tire, and smashed completely as stones and water flew in through the windows. The hapless occupants felt as the machine did a slow roll through the air and then hit the ground sideways, spinning on end. Screeches and honks were barely audible over the grinding of metal. Sparks flew as the machine went round and round, before finally it made a slow crash into a car standing parked on the side of the opposite lane, and then stopped, balancing on its left side.
The motorcycle on the other hand made a long, low arc through the rain, and then hit the ground, rolling and bouncing along the veritable trench that now ran right down the middle of the street, spraying bits of metal as it tumbled. When it reached the end of the scar in the asphalt it was moving slowly, and then it was stopped solidly by a huge boot.
The man gazed, still frowning hard under the cover of the rain, which seemed not to hit him so hard as the rest of the surroundings somehow. His eyes made a long, careful sweep from side to side, searching. For a couple of seconds, the only sounds were the smattering of the rain, and the thunder above. His eyes focused when they found the white-clad form, and he took a step.
The smacking, hard sound of the blast was clearly recognizable. Metal smashed into metal, and then the motorcycle exploded in a fireball across the street, completely swallowing the man in it. Thunder rolled above, and cracks and steam spread outward through the ground from the explosion. Staggering to his feet, bruised and scraped raw and soaking wet on top of it, Stygian approached the devastation, holding his shotgun high.
'You fucked up my bike,' the bat snarled. 'You fucked up my bloody bike!'
Cog groaned a little bit as rain started to patter on the windshield, his eyes reflexively closing and then looking at the only-slightly blind driver next to him. He seemed to be keeping it together so far, squinting violently, and Cog let himself relax just slightly as he looked back at the road.
A man with a massive mace stood in the center of the road, and shortly after Cog found himself staring at a massive shockwave heading for them, tearing into the highway and throwing the detritus of the road straight at them. The wolf's mouth opened slightly, both of his eyes opened wide, and with the small squeak of leather his claws dug into the armrest beside him.
"Oh, shi-"
Deirdre swerved, and the next few moments were simply a series of unintelligible, fragmented images and the sound of screeching, tearing metal and impacts, the wolf slamming against the roof of the car and then the door, and then back against the roof as the car began to flip through the air.
The car slammed into the ground violently, smacking Cog into the dashboard, and with a few more unwanted collisions they slowly came to a stop next to another wrecked car, leaning up against it sideways.
Cog was still for a few moments, plastered up against the windows, before letting out a small groan. He pushed himself up, his slightly bleeding nose leaving bloodmarks on the glass, and blinked slowly as he twisted his neck to look up at the others. His hand started trying to find a latch, or something to get out of the car. He doubted the mace-guy would sit in the middle of the road forever.
"Are be stobbed yeb?" the wolf said, a line of blood running down his muzzle as a dull thud echoed out from the highway to the car.
The truck turned the last corner onto the street with the train station and Mel brought the vehicle to a halt. The street was in the midst of a heavy rain and thunder storm of decidedly magical overtones. Fortunately there was still enough visibility to see that the road was too ripped up by the same forces to continue by car. "End of the line, I'm afraid. But the train station is only a block from here." Mel looked at the rain then at Aisha in her thin dancing dress. "You will catch pneumonia." The dragon unfastened her long suede jacket and shimmied out of it. "Put this on."
...Keaton:
The instant Deirdre jerked the steering wheel and the car swerved perilously to the side in a last-second effort to evade the incoming shockwave, Keaton once more felt herself being flung in the opposite direction, plastering her briefly against the window of the car before she pried herself off and scrambled for safety. Or, in this case, relative safety--considering the size of their impending destruction and the proportionate size and structure of their car, they didn't stand a chance. At least Deirdre's quick maneuver would prevent the car from sustaining too much damage, or from them being obliterated on the spot--
But gratitude was irrelevant. Keaton's first instinct was to duck behind the seat which was in front of her, hoping it would suffice as a shield.
It didn't. Cacophonous shrieking and wailing, the protesting squeals and screams of shredding metal and rupturing stone, and then Keaton felt herself being thrown about while those hideous noises continued their caterwauling. Keaton couldn't even hear her repeated cursing over the violent racket. The car's occupants were thoroughly rattled while the car somersaulted through the air, sailing for a few, gloriously horrifying moments before its unhappy reunion with the ground, thunderously jostling the interior. There was another scream, piercing just above the wailing of the metal. Keaton heard the glass over her splinter and break during one of the car's many revolutions as something pierced through it, the cold fragments showering her body--fortunately on her back, where she wasn't as sensitive. More abhorrent sounds, then the car skidded to a stop, balanced on its left side.
Keaton thought she was dead at first.
An exhausted moan reminded her of her continued existence, but given how dizzy Keaton was at the moment she could barely comprehend anything close to gratefulness. Twitching, she tried to adjust to the suddenly disproportionate positioning of the vehicle, groping around in the darkness of her closed eyes for anything. Once or twice she grazed past a few dusty shards of glass, then her eyes opened, and she struggled to register the current angle of the car. At the moment Keaton was slumped against the door, flattened, her head aching and spinning wildly, but otherwise unhurt. Keaton let out a slightly insane laugh too delirious to be sincere, then tried to lean upright, just enough for her to get a proper perspective on the assorted locations of her companions.
She heard Cog moan something--that was enough of an indication that he was alive. What of their driver, though? Ah well. She'd find out soon enough. While inspecting her body for injuries, Keaton wearily spoke up, "Alright, who's dead and who's not? Sound off."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Even a pounding heart and lungs gasping like a demented smith's bellows could only sustain complete terror for so long. After a few minutes, Kerya began to take notice of what was happening around her again. It was sheer bad fortune that the first thing she noticed was the jackal and the please-by-the-Lady-don't-let-him-really-be-a-zombie sharing her seat staring out of the front window, struck with horror. She peered over the back of the front seat and saw a mass of rocks and debris rising like a wave along the street. The carriage lurched and swerved to one side, but not quite far enough to escape the destruction. Kerya was thrown across the seat as something smacked into the door at her back, then the carriage flipped and twisted, bouncing and spinning along the road with a horrendous screeching of tortured metal.
The next few moments were little more than a confused jumble for the little stoat. She remembered bouncing off the roof at least once, and she landed on each of the others at least as often as they landed on top of her. Something thumped against her ribs, and she heard sharp fangs snap together just behind her left ear, along with a gasp of pain as her elbow rammed into something soft. Eventually the wild ride ended and the jumbled mass of bruised fur and flesh settled against the side of the carriage.
Kerya moaned and opened one eye. A drop of freezing cold water promptly splashed into it. More water splashed onto her muzzle, and as she blinked her eyes clear she could see the far side windows, now above her, smashed and letting in rain from outside. Somewhere behind her someone laughed, then asked a question she was too dizzy to hear properly. So they weren't all dead, then. In her own case, Kerya counted that as a pleasant surprise. She dug her claws into what she hoped wasn't someone's pelt and tried to pull herself up. "What happened?" she asked unsteadily. "Are we there yet?"
Closing on the wreckage, Stygian lowered his gun. However when the steam had cleared and the burning wreckage was exposed, only shreds of a coat were left of the man. His body was nowhere to be seen. Which of course means that he's not very hurt at all. Bloody tactician, the bat hissed in his mind.
Knowing that danger was imminent and that there was little he could do to avert it, Stygian spun around and dashed off toward the keeled-over car. 'Hey!' he shouted, glaring at the undercarriage and the broken rear axis. Reaching the vehicle, he went around and peered in through the opening where there used to be a rear window. 'Status?' he asked, scanning the occupants. They seemed thrown around as dice in a beaker, but other than that...
It was hard to tell whether or not it was fortunate that the scenery on the outside of the truck was horrendous enough to distract from the nervousness of being cooped, with a somewhat inexperienced driver, and speeding up quickly. She could tell that Gareeku wasn't too happy either, but perhaps everyone had the same mind...so long as we get there in one piece. The panthress, digging her claws further into the seat fabric, couldn't help but wonder how the others were doing.
But finally, after a long view of the city as the streets were being ripped by unnatural storms and quakes, and squelching a fear of being rained upon by rocks, Mel had stopped the truck and called the end of the line...looking ahead, the road was just too torn up to continue safely. Rain fell from the sky as red lightning continued to pierce the gloom of the clouds.
"Two blocks? Brilliant," Aisha sighed with a bit of relief, but also with just a bit of haste to get there. At Mel's offer of her jacket in the rain, however, she only just remembered through the intensity that she was wearing something that wasn't cut out for such weather. "I'm a jaguar, rain doesn't bother me," she pointed out...but after a second, she took the jacket with a grateful nod. "But cold rain, everyone hates. Thanks."
Water pelted Aisha's head as she opened the door to the truck and looked out ahead. The huntress thought that she could spot the train station, or at least a sign. With the panic still behind them, there was haste to be made. She waited for Gareeku as he got out of the truck as well. "You'll be alright?" she asked...the wolf wouldn't be as prone to cold as she was, but it felt right to ask.
As they started for the train station, the girl rather eager to find shelter while waiting for the others, she couldn't help but cast more nervous glances around. "The hell is this, the apocalypse?" she growled.
With the car finally coming to a stop, Gareeku let go of his grip on the seat and climbed outside. It seemed that the others in the other car had not come to a normal stop like they had, what with their vechile lying upside down on the road.
"I'll be fine." the wolf replied. Looking around, his eyes narrowed at the destruction. "Well people will know where we've been from these wreckages."
Judging by how the car had stopped spinning about, Cog figured that they really had come to a complete stop. Pushing himself off the door and sniffing, then hacking as sucked up a deal of blood, the wolf spat out the copper-tasting stuff and shifted himself onto his feet, now standing on what used to be the door.
He heard Stygian outside the rear window, and adjusting his glasses so that sight was again possible he sighed, a fleck of blood bubbling out from his nose.
"I beel like shib." the wolf said, gently trying to get his limbs in motion again. He managed to move all his of his respective body parts without any blinding pain, and aside from a bloody nose he seemed to be alright.
Now the more immediate problem of escaping this cage of twisted metal. He could crawl over the seats, and get his hands nicely cut by the numerous shards of glass as he clambered over, or he could try getting out from the opposite direction. The windshield had already splintered quite nicely, and it wouldn't take anything more than a heavy tap on the spiderwebbed glass to shatter it completely.
Smashing it with his foot would be awkward in the enclosed space, and running a hand over his slowly-clotting nose he took a deep breath, making a tiny flicking motion towards the windshield. A tiny wave of force emanated from his hand to strike the glass- to his surprise, rather than simply shatter, it simply cracked a bit more and tumbled forward, the entire windshield detaching from the car and sliding down the hood.
Sliding his body up over the dash, the wolf managed to slip his boots through the newly-made hole and out of the wrecked vehicle, sliding out and landing on the ground roughly, right next to the now-shattered windshield.
Stygian snorted and rose to his feet again, examining the wreckage. The car was fortunately a sturdy, heavy piece, meaning that it had worked like a shield to the occupants. Wouldn't be surprised it it's got a concealed rollcage inside either, he thought. Which makes this a lot better.
Watching Cog get out and hearing the others move, Stygian walked around to the other side and put his hands against the undercarriage. Finding an oily grip, he tugged gently, feeling the machine move. 'Everybody still! I'm going to flip this back,' he called out, and then pulled.
The machine's solidity and heaviness was a bit of a blessing even in getting it back on the right end. Straining a bit, he slowly lowered the car until he had to alternate his grip, and then couldn't hold on much more. Swearing as he cut himself on a torn piece of the bodywork, he finally let it slip and bump the last few inches into the ground.
With the vehicle down, the bat spared no time in wrenching the right back door open and looking in. 'Everyone alright?' he asked. 'Sorry, but we've got to move.'
As Mel squinted through the driving rain in the direction of the train station one of the many flipped and crushed cars looked familiar. With the precise distance vision granted to high flying creatures she could pick out the white shape rolling the familiar vehicle back onto it's wheels as Ignatz despite being a city block away from them. "Damn. I hope no one is seriously injured," she wished as she set out at a run for the crash.
...Keaton:
Outside the car, Keaton overheard Stygian's voice, something she didn't quite register at first because of the vestigial delirium which came with being tossed and rattled about in their cartwheeling vehicle. Appearing rather dizzy, she craned her head around in every accessible angle in search for where the chiropteran was, only to resign and clutch onto something--an unfastened seatbelt--for support. She wasn't entirely sure what Stygian was planning, but it was best to take some precautions in case something went horribly wrong. Unpredictability was this bat's forte.
In actuality he leveled the car with surprising gentleness off of its askew angle, actually lifting it. Keaton herself didn't see this--all she realized was that the car was being lowered, gently, to the ground, back on its wheels, by some unseen force. Throughout this process Keaton continued to wring and twist at the seatbelt she was using as her unofficial stress relief, expending as much pent-up tension and anxiety as possible through her hands and knuckles alone. The ultimate drop was a little bit jarring, sort of unexpected, but when she was certain the car's tires were on solid ground again she shakily relinquished the seatbelt. Adjusting to the new angle she was at, as she stumbled and groped her way to the agape windshield, not wanting to waste any time. They would be expected to move quickly, she surmised.
On her way, Keaton bypassed the driver's seat, where her attention was captured by a quiet moan. Blinking, she turned her head over toward the occupant of the seat, clinically examining the Gryphon. While anchored in place by her seatbelt, she was clearly battered, probably teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. In addition to the blood streaming from her nostril she now had another bruise on the side of her head, probably from smacking the side of the wall.
Keaton wanted to leave her there. But she had already punched Deirdre out, forced her into driving their getaway vehicle, and now knocked her unconscious and was planning on deserting her for all her trouble. At the very least, she reasoned, she could drag her out of the car. Give her some dignity... and if she woke up she could be useful. Turning against them to fight alone would be unthinkable in their surroundings, so she would have no choice but to ally herself with them. Reaching over, Keaton retrieved Deirdre's sword, still sheathed in its scabbard, from somewhere on the floor of the opposite seat, then threw it onto the hood of the car. Unbuckling Deirdre's seatbelt, Keaton hooked her hands under Deirdre's arms and bodily lifted her out of her seat, dragging her the best she could through the gap left in the windshield.
At the very least, for all this effort, the bitch had better be grateful, she thought angrily.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya was relieved to hear Sebastian's voice outside. She vaguely remembered catching a brief sight of his two-wheeled contraption flying through the air when the wave of rock and debris hit them. Then the wrecked carriage was gently pushed upright, and the bat wrenched one of the back doors off. She crawled along the seat towards the opening, picking up her staff — undamaged, but it would take more than a little rough handling to shatter it — along the way.
Clinging to the edge of the doorway, the little stoat gingerly got her feet under her and stood up, leaning unsteadily against the side of the carriage. She hurt from whiskers to tailtip, but nothing seemed to be broken. "I am all right, I think, Sebastian," she said, "A few — ow! — small cuts, but mostly I am only bruised... all over." She winced as she discovered one of her ear-clips had been ripped off leaving the edge of her ear a little ragged, and some minor cuts on her right arm and leg left smudges of blood on her torn and ragged dress.
No matter, that could all be dealt with later. Kerya half-closed her eyes for a moment, tiny sparks crackling from her staff and up her arm as she drew on some of its stored power to renew her strength. She took a deep breath and stood up straighter, her eyes now bright and clear. There would be time later to fall over from exhaustion... she hoped. "Is everyone else all right?" she asked as she looked around at the others crawling out of the wreckage.
Richard clambered out of the wreckage of the car, surprisingly intact. He was facing away from the vehicle, still double checking his damages and muttering things about never, ever letting the gryphon drive ever ever again, when Stygian rolled the car back over. He tensed up with a creak of overworked dead sinew. The sound of a car moving on a part of it other than its wheels should not be something that has to catch me by surprise. Slowly relaxing with a couple more creaks, he sighed and turned back toward the car.
"I'm fine," He glanced over at the rest of the group, face taking on what was probably a quizzical look when he saw Keaton helping Deirdre out of the car, "Now then, what the HELL just knocked us over? Lightning typically doesn't pull that sort of crap with taller targets around, and it isn't big on shockwaves either."
Frowning over his shoulder and looking at Mel, Gareeku and Aisha, Stygian rubbed his oily hands idly and growled before answering Richard's query. 'An old acquaintance of mine. Who is not out of the game yet, by the way, so we had better get a move on.'
Seeing as all the others seemed alright, the bat turned on his heel and jogged over the street to the opposite sidewalk, to meet up with the others. He waited in the trio, speaking up as soon as they got within talking range.
'We have to get out of here as soon as possible. I have cash for tickets, but if anyone of you have anything else you need with you, you're going to have to leave it behind,' he said, setting a brisk pace. 'Haszal's about to become a disaster zone.'
...Keaton:
Struggling to drag Deirdre's body safely out of the bruised, dented, and battered wreckage of her car, Keaton nudged the sword she had thrown onto the hood of the car off of its edge with her foot, then laid the Gryphon against the hood so she could take a momentary breather. Resting her hands on her knees, Keaton sighed deeply, catching her breath, and then stretched upright, arching her back. Her shoulder-blades began to ripple and writhe violently, as though something were squirming under her skin, then once more her wings emerged from her back, stretching their membranous widths to the most their span could offer. This would make matters much easier.
Morphing both wings so that way they all sported a triad of tentacles, Keaton gently scooped their claws under Deirdre's body and leveled her to the ground from the car's hood with elastic ease. All during this process she muttered and grumbled curses and expletives under her breath, mostly consisting of how "the bitch had better be grateful for this" and threats regarding Deirdre's health if her generous assistance went without appreciation. Once the Gryphon was safely on the ground, Keaton leaped off of the hood and landed on the ground, dusting herself off with a few flaps of her wings.
Stygian mentioned something about tickets and leaving Hazsal. Keaton couldn't help but feel relieved about this, considering how the city seemed beyond salvageable and overrun by monsters. "Wonderful..." she sighed. "Let's just get the hell out of here."
For a moment, Keaton appraised Deirdre's body, contemplating what to do with the Gryphon. She had assumed she would be of some use, but now there wouldn't be much of a point to carting her around if she was so thoroughly knocked out cold. Besides, it would spend too much energy and labor her to an unnecessary extent. History aside, she had no qualms about leaving her there, but she was uncertain about everyone else's opinion.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
A hurried, irritated shout from Stygian seemingly settled Keaton's dilemma. 'Hey! Stop dawdling about and move your asses!' he snarled, running up around a car. He passed them again, heading along the enormous tear in the road, and gave the jackal Cubi a hard look, which then shifted between her and the gryphon.
'If you don't want to carry him, just say so,' he said gruffly. 'But if I were you I would be a little hesitant to leave someone who just lost his car to help you in the middle of the road.' He shot Keaton a final look as a pointer, and then turned, marching off in the direction of the station.
...Keaton:
Keaton's head snapped in Stygian's direction as he shouted towards her, her expression momentarily suspending in one of quizzical shock before her features sunk, ears falling flat, eyes narrowing, and her mouth twisting in a thin line of discontent, reflecting her reluctance the most she could, but not arguing aside from her immaturely belligerent expression. Sure, she had been weighing her options regarding what to do with Deirdre, but she didn't like being ordered around. Reverting her scowl to a more neutral gaze, Keaton turned her attention back to Deirdre, then struggled to lift her, using her wing-tentacles for most of the muscle work. On her own Keaton was in excellent shape and was rather strong, but she couldn't lift someone who was five inches taller than her, no matter how lanky they were.
Once she had balanced Deirdre in the grasp of her wing-tentacles, Keaton used a final wing-tentacle to snatch up Deirdre's sword. For a moment she skeptically eyed the adorable, pink cat hanging from a thin chain off of the pommel of the sword's pappenheimer, then she sighed with resignation and continued following the group.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
A metallic clatter drew Kerya's attention to the front of the carriage, where the jackal was dragging the birdlike creature out of the wreckage. The jackal's sudden transformation took her completely by surprise: even in the rain that was plastering her rapidly soaking fur and dress against her skin, she managed to fluff up. None of the others seemed to be taking any particular notice, however. Another thing to ask about later, she told herself, the people here have Transformation magics the Empress herself might have envied. Shrugging her fur as smooth as she could considering its soaked state, she followed Sebastian along the side of the street. She kept a fascinated eye on the jackal's broad black-bordered yellow wings as they grew tentacles and hoisted the bird-thing smoothly off the ground.
She was saving up a lot of questions for later, she realised. Hopefully there would be time soon to ask some of them, and maybe get answers.
Mel continued to dash down the street towards the train station, not shivering despite the fact that the cold rain had plastered her blue silk shirt to her body. She ignored the Bat's comments about abandoning anything they hadn't carried with them. One advantage of being a magic user was that she could always carry everything with her. "Everyone mobile?" she asked Ignatz as she eyed the wreck on the other side of the street. Mobile was all that was required at the moment.
Shielding her head from the rain with one arm and keeping the jacket closed over her upper body with the other, Aisha looked out over the destruction of the street while she and Gareeku awaited Mel and the others. It was a complete disaster zone, so incredibly different from the town that they had wandered into just a day ago, along with running into the others. Speaking of whom, it took a moment for Aisha to notice that the overturned car on the other side looked quite familiar...the reason that she could see Stygian and Mel looking through it.
"...Oh shit..." she muttered, craning her head to try and see what was going on. But her impulse to try helping was taken, the minute it was seen that everyone who had been in the crash was more or less together in one piece. The bat and Mel led them across to where the panthress and wolf were standing. Looking over everyone, especially the shaken newcomers (one unconscious and being carried by a not-very-happy Keaton), it was going to be a hell of a time trying to survive this particular adventure.
Aisha hummed when she heard Stygian say that he had money for tickets, and his suggestion to everyone on leaving things that probably should be left behind. "I have nothing that I can afford to part with, and I am able to carry all that I have," she reassured. Between her weapons and her pack, carrying her adventuring clothes and the vest that she would swap for the clinging dress when she had the chance, the adventurer was as always quite prepared. "My condolences to the unfortunate," she sighed, and though it sounded sarcastic it was actually a rather solemn prayer. With that, she gratefully picked up pace with the others and on the way to the station.
Cog spat out blood again, brushing a stray bit of glass off his shoulder, and reaching into his jacket only momentarily, started following the bat. He paused when Stygian turned to speak to Keaton, admonishing her to bring the rather helpful gryphon along with them. Cog wiped a hand across his nose, the blood almost completely dried up now, and looked sourly back at the city. The sky overhead swirled darkly, eldritch and unnatural.
"Destroyed, eh?" he said, thinking about that stranger from the coffeeshop. Pausing only a moment to wonder if she would make it out, he shrugged, and turned, the mud clinging to his boots as he started towards the train station.
'Mostly, it seems' the bat called back. 'No time to worry about that. Get running and grab those who aren't!' he growled.
There was only a short bit left to go, and the station's tall glass roof was already visible from a distance. Gleaming a dark mixture of watery green and red reflected off the sky, it vaulted over the large structure, beyond the large white dome that was the cupola over the entrance and underground engine stalls. Tall, decorate glass doors were all over the large, white-painted many-storied front of the station, admitting a steady stream of people in, and a somewhat lesser amount out. There was one thing out of place with the scene though, apart from the obvious worry and agitation on people's faces; able-bodied staff that looked quite much like security officers in their flat-topped combination caps and green uniforms. Not to mention their batons and sidearms.
Coming to a stop at the corner of the nearest building, Stygian motioned with his hand for the others behind him to stop, and then looked back. When he caught sight of Keaton, sprouting tentacles, his eyes widened. He almost went over to grab her.
'For Hell's sake, get those in!' the bat hissed, half looking around at the people still in the streets. They were giving Keaton some rather intimidated stares. 'This place isn't friendly to creatures!'
...Keaton:
Keaton trudged without complaint behind her companions, being too engrossed with the whirlwind panic of the situation than her personal concerns. Deirdre remained cradled in her arms, completely unconscious and disarmingly vulnerable in her weakened state, appearing too masculine and gangly to be delicate. Despite the discontentment in her expression Keaton remained strong in her steps, mostly with the intention of preventing herself from trailing behind the group and exposing herself to further assault by any malevolent entities.
Fortunately their trek went uninterrupted. Exhaling in relief, Keaton gripped Deirdre a little tighter with her wing-tentacles, closing her eyes. Before she could relax for even the slightest moment she heard Stygian snap at her again, forcing her eyes open and an irritable glare back into her rigid and pallid features. When she was about to retort with a nasty comment she noticed the stares of those who were standing, petrified, in the streets or bypassing her, then cursed loudly.
There wasn't much of a point in hiding her wings since they had already been seen, but it was best to undo the damage the most she could. Resting Deirdre's sword against Deirdre's belly and switching the aforementioned Gryphon's body into her arms, she fused her wings back into her spine, their membranous forms vanishing without a trace. Looking rather stiff, yet nervous, Keaton looked back at Stygian, then glared back and forth. Hopefully the problem had been rectified, at least somewhat.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Unfortunately, the damage seemed already done. Two of the guards had spotted them, courtesy of the gaps in between people and the steps leading up to the station entry. One of them had unholstered her weapon, while the other was looking between her and them.
Stygian growled over the commotion. 'Great. Just stick together and let's do this smoothly,' he said, walking over to Keaton and taking Deirdre from her. Lifting the gryphon up into his arms he walked over toward the stairs and the entrance, dodging bustling people as well as he could.
...Keaton:
Keaton nearly screamed aloud every vibrant and virulent obscenity in her vocabulary when she noticed the nearby guards, her chocolaty irises locking instantaneously on the weapon clutched in one of the guards's hands. Fantastic. Just fantastic. The shit had hit the fan, and it was all her fault. This gave her a lot to feel "proud" about, that it did...
In-between these sanguinary musings, Stygian relieved Keaton of Deirdre's unconscious body, leaving her to grip the sword, which she momentarily pondered discarding. It would only get in the way and be cumbersome, but, as self-conscious as she was about creating anymore problems, Keaton didn't throw it away. Gripping the scabbard slightly, Keaton dashed after Stygian, hoping that she would lose the attention of the guards amidst the throng of bustling people.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Richard followed close to the rest of the group, zipping up his coat to hide his tommahawks. 'Threatening' wasn't what one aimed for when dealing with as of yet nonviolent guards. He'd been living here a while, he knew how guards acted and how to not piss them off. Just seem friendly and a little scared and you were fine. It helped that most people had trouble reading his facial expressions. Better that Stygian had taken the gryphon off of Keaton's wings; cops were often more worried when you were doing something that they, as a species, couldn't. Walking up with the tentacles out would have taken care of the last of their already frayed nerves.
"Good thing you did back there, helping with the gryphon," He muttered to the cubi, eyes still straight ahead. It was probably the closest thing to an apology for snapping at her in the car she was about to get.
Walking along on the edge of the group, Kerya didn't quite catch what the others were saying, she'd been paying more attention to the street around them and noticing the nervousness of the people passing by. Which in return did her own nerves no good at all. Up ahead she could see the tall, white glass-roofed building Sebastian was heading for, the bird-thing now held in his arms. There were guards at the entrance, and at least one of them began paying close attention to the approaching group.
"I do not like the look of this," Kerya muttered quietly to the others. "Those guards, are we likely to have trouble from them?" Working quickly and without making it obvious, she prepared certain defensive spells for immediate use. She didn't want to hurt any of the guards, but she really wanted to get away from this place before anything worse happened.
As Mel slowed to a quick stroll her disguise morphed very subtly. Her features read younger, sweeter, more innocent than they had a blink before. And she obviously wasn't hiding weapons anywhere in the outfit clinging soaked to her frame. Just a college girl fleeing the city. No one the guards would look twice at unless they thought a victim needed to be rushed out of harm's way.
Running up the steps, Stygian was immediately interrupted, fortunately by the officer without a firearm in his hand. The large dog simply stepped into his way, and the bat stopped. He didn't want anything to bother them. Not there.
'What's all this about?' the canine asked, not really scowling but frowning and shifting his glare between the bat and the gryphon in his arms. The rat over by the other door kept close watch on them both.
'He's hurt. A car drove into us,' Stygian said, feigning a very convincing mixture of concern and stressed irritation. 'We're a traveling party. We just need to pass through.'
'If he's hurt, you're better off taking her to a hospital. The city guard don' appreciate unsolved things,' the dog said, looking over his shoulder at the rest of the party.
'He's going to be fine. We have a healer with us,' Stygian said. 'But we want to leave.' The canine opened his mouth, but the rat interjected.
'Didn't you get what we were saying? Stay put and wait!' she snarled.
'Henderson!' the dog barked, shooting the rat a glare. He held it for a few seconds before looking back to Stygian. 'Can I see your passport?' he asked. Stygian looked down at his shredded clothes, and then back at the dog, who made a face.
Mel stepped forward, mentally noting that she had made the wrong choice when altering her disguise, old and respectable would have been better. She handed the guard an appropriate identification card, naming her as Melinda White, college student. She faked a shiver as she looked bedraggled and scared, "Please sir. I am a healer and if we can get him somewhere warm and dry I can heal him." She didn't try to take over his mind, she had learned from their earlier experience that taking out just one partner didn't work well. But she did radiate honesty and trustworthiness at the canine. "Will you please let us inside?" she asked as a particularly large raindrop dripped off her nose.
The dog kept frowning, and the rat's eyes twitched between the four standing on the top of the steps, and then went to Keaton, and back.
'I don' think we ca-' the dog began, when Stygian, who had been fumbling with his back pocket, interrupted.
'Here!' he said, handing the passport over. It was missing one corner, but seemed otherwise fine. 'Sorry, just... What she said. We want to get out of here. Things are looking pretty bad.'
The canine eyed the passport scrutinizingly. 'I wish they weren't. This looks fine, but I'm not saying I like it.'
'We just want to get by. There's no reason stopping us.'
'I'll be the judge of that,' the dog said, and then looked in Keaton's direction. 'The Cubi?'
'She's with us,' Stygian said, and now his look wasn't so harmless any more. 'We're just passing through. Stop us if you want to, but it's not going to do you any good.'
The dog turned his face toward the bat a bit, grumbled, and then backed up to let them through.
Standing still through the whole ordeal, Cog kept his eyes on the two guards silently, his shades glittering the red sky of Haszal back at the two. Taking just a single step to the side of Keaton, and letting a hand rest on the hilt of his sword, he absently scratched at his nose as the others spoke.
At the dog's comment about passports, Cog scowled, baring a single white fang. He looked over the guardsman's shoulders to the red sky behind him, and then at the train station to the side. Cog muttered something inaudible.
To his surprise, the bat actually had a passport on him, and to his yet greater surprise the officer stood aside to let them through. Raising his eyebrows, the wolf gave a blank look, his expression slowly changing to one of bemusement.
As he passed the officers to walk into the station, he gave them a two-finger salute, his boots thumping softly on the somewhat-wet floor. Another hand went to secure his hat from the wind.
"Thanks, officers." he said, just-almost sincere enough to sound respectful.
As the impressive glass dome of the station came into light, Aisha released a sigh of relief and caught up with the others. She was beginning to tire of the rain, and moreover of the storm raging all around them. The panther muttered a quiet string of curses in her own tongue, shaking her head free of water and looking around at the others. A ragged party, it looked like, and one could only imagine what people all around were thinking of them.
That became more apparent, in fact, when Stygian suddenly rounded back on Keaton and hissed at her to hide her tentacles, with which she was helping carry the unconscious Gryphon. Aisha's eyes widened slightly. Suspicious of Creatures...great. That's what most of us are. And looking ahead, before she could even hope that nobody would notice after the jackal recovered, there two guards stood blocking their path; a canine and a rat, both with quite suspicious looks on their faces as they stopped Stygian.
Aisha grimaced, staying behind with the group as the bat and the felid Mel tried to negotiate with the police. Ears craned forward, she could hear little of what they were saying. If the story was bought, hopefully, things wouldn't end up like the last police officers that they encountered. No more innocent blood to be shed.
But, after Stygian found his passport, they moved out of the way and let the adventurers ahead...a rather pleasant change. Aisha sighed and moved on ahead, sparing a brief nod of thanks to the officers. She hopefully looked just about as suspicious as the others had...another feline who was having a bad day, to say the least.
As the group made their way to the train station, Gareeku kept quiet, choosing instead to listen to the others talk amongst themselves as he observed the looks on the bystanders' faces as they passed them.
Fucking great... the wolf thought to himself. I can't go anywhere anymore without having disaster and carnage follow me whereever I go.
As they approached the station, Gareeku cursed to himself quietly as a couple of guards confronted them. After a little while, it seemed that they were allowed to go through, the wolf giving the guards a nod of appreciation as he passed them. Hey, he may have been a grumpy asshole, but he wasn't stupid. He knew when certain things were required.
If the company had thought that the station looked large on the outside, it was nothing compared to the inner view. While the several floors arranged over the reception hall cut off the view at first and took up a great part of the space, the sight as they entered the domed hall with shops and a bank and post office beyond was very impressive, a sort of testimony to modernization and industry. Classical-styled pictures of historical events throughout Haszal's history, most of which were tied in to some sort of new development, were all over the roof of the dome, and sculptures of scholars and great businessmen and inventors stood in the alcoves set into the dome walls. Beyond the huge archway at the far end of the domed hall they could see the platforms and trains, all strange and dreamy-looking in the swimming lighting of the vaulted glass ceiling and the lamps on walls and walkways.
When they had walked in a bit, Stygian looked around and then spoke back toward the others without facing them. 'I'm going to get us those tickets. The question is; where do we leave for?' He fixed his black gaze on a large brass-decorated announcement board, displaying train types, arrival and departure times and destinations. From the immediate look of it, they had only three choices if they were to leave within the nearest half-hour; Dachon, a demon city many miles east; Eisporz, far to the north on a great peninsula; or Jann's Cliff, much farther to the south, close to the sound of Mediemunda. Either way they would be traveling a fairly long way.
'I know someone we could talk to, but we would have to reach her fast. In either way Eisporz seems too far. Unless we want to take a ship across the ocean or go seal hunting, that is...' Stygian said bitterly, adjusting his grip on Deirdre.
Following Sebastian and the others into the train station, Gareeku looked around at the interior of the buildings. The architecture was certainly very impressive, his eyes glancing from the statues in the alcoves to the decorated ceiling as they made their way through the interior of the station.
When Sebastian began to talk to them, Gareeku's eyes lowered to look at him, the wolf listening to what he said. As Sebastian finished speaking, Gareeku noticed his gaze fix on the noticeboard. Turning to look at the train times as well, the wolf frowned somewhat as he looked at the names. There were a few that he didn't recognise, but there was one that he did...
"...Jann's Cliff...I know that place..." the wolf said as he continued to look at the announcement board. "...It's a trading town. I went there once, but it was quite a few years ago. From what I can remember they get all sorts of customers through there, so we should be able to move around the town without much of a fuss. They're about as tolerant as you can get, which is useful considering the vast majority of us are creatures."
Kerya almost gasped aloud in relief when the guards stepped back to allow them inside. For one thing, at least now they were out of the rain, which was beginning to make her feel rather chilled. And she dripped, and her sandals squelched, when she walked. The little stoat looked down at herself, her ears and whiskers drooping slightly. She could do something about her dress once they were safely under way, but right now it was a soaked, stained and torn mess. And since her hotel room, with her spare clothes, was at the other end of a city they were fleeing before it was destroyed...
Then her ears perked up as she noticed one particular shop among the row at the far end of the hall. She poked her fingers down the back of the sash around her waist, nodded in satisfaction, then walked quickly up to the bat's side and tapped his arm to catch his attention. "Sebastian, I will return in just a moment, but I must get some things before we leave here." Before he could even turn to look she dashed off across the hall and vanished into a souvenir shop. In a minute or so she reappeared, a bulging bag (printed with the message "VISIT SUNNY HASZAL!" in garish colours) gripped firmly in her hands. She still dripped and squelched with every step as she rejoined the group, but she looked a little less grim.
When the guards decided to wave them on Mel smiled at the canine then hurried inside before they found a new reason to retain them. Inside was large and a demonstration of the technological advantages of the city. Hearing Ignatz question as to a destination she looked at the board. "Well, my personal preference would be Eisporz, but closest to my home is not a good reason to make a choice, despite greater access to allies and information." She shrugged noncommittally at Gareeku's comment, "Jann's Cliff should have anything we need reasonably available."
The little mage excused herself and ran into a tourist shop, of all things. Mel gave her a confused look, wondering why she would need a souvenir to remember this vacation.
The train station was a lot nicer than what Cog was expecting. A grimy, concrete and purely functional structure, he had expected from a place like this - Haszal had seemed rather utilitarian in nature. The architecture should have tipped him off, he supposed - the interior here was no less grand than the architecture of the buildings outside.
He wrapped his coat about him a bit tighter, and tried to place the names and faces of the statues that dotted the station. He found that he really didn't know any of them - he guessed they were more local heroes, or some such. Even so. At the bat's comments about available locations, the wolf looked up at the board proclaiming times and destinations and shrugged. He'd been through Mediemundus to get here, but he'd never been to nor heard of any of the locations listed. One was as good as another, he supposed.
Cog found a bench to sit on and waited, adjusting his slightly-wet hat, and wiping the moisture from his glasses. He watched the little ferrety-mage person run off towards the tourist shop quickly, and Cog absently wondered what she might possibly need there. Snowglobes were nice and all, but they probably had more pressing business...
She returned rather quickly, her bag full with the soft bulge of clothing, and Cog nodded. That made a bit more sense to him, although he'd probably have saved his money. They were liable to be clothing stores wherever they ended up going.
Watching Kerya skitter through the hall into a shop and out back with a bag in her arms, Stygian shook his head and then looked down, a bitter focus coming over his face. He made another glance toward the annoncement board, then to the floor again.
'Jann's Cliff would be further than Dachon, but not through the mountains... And we should remain on the continent,' the bat muttered. He looked back over toward the others. 'I say Jann's cliff. I have someone we could go to after that. If you come up with any other ideas, let me know.'
Abruptly, Stygian turned and walked off, heading toward a wall and then putting Deirdre down on a bench next to a statue. He proceeded to locate and enter the lavatories, entering. When he came back, after a few minutes, his suit was entirely mended, and the blood and scrapes he'd had were washed and cleaned off. He still looked mildly disheveled though, his jacket over his shoulder and his claws combing hastily through the wet bangs of his hair. Noticing that the gryphon was still out, he picked her up once again before he approached the others with a look that suggested he thought they should have made up their minds about then.
...Keaton:
During the guards' scrutiny over them Keaton remained uncharacteristically silent, a sour yet undemanding expression on her face, as though she were secretly debating on whether or not to facially vociferate her discomfort. No matter what the circumstances were, Keaton hated being the source of new conflicts and problems for those she actually considered worthwhile to associate with, or the select few she regarded as friends, so her attitude was obvious. Hopefully the guards wouldn't misconstrue her expression as a poor excuse for concealing any vicious intentions and exacerbate their situation.
Fortunately the guards' countenance seemed to alleviate when Stygian brandished a passport, something Keaton was lacking. During her many years of living she had never adopted a consistent identity for public functions, instead selecting false pseudonyms alluding to the middle names of her siblings and family members. She had an ID to use while in the bar, but she presumed she had dropped it, not to mention the guards would likely reject anything proffered by a publicly-witnessed Cubi. They stepped aside, and Keaton followed her companions without hesitation, deciding right there and then that this incident would go unmentioned.
Once they entered the train station, Keaton stopped to observe the list of eventual departures and entries emblazoned nearby. One particular name caught her eye: the city of Dachon, which was a demon-populated city. Considering their party consisted mainly of Creatures, that was a wise option to choose. Gareeku's suggestion about Jann's Cliff also sounded preferable to their current situation. At the moment, though, Keaton was concerned with matters other than escaping the city, as her gaze wandering back and forth to Deirdre draped in Stygian's arms indicated. As he rested her on the bench, Keaton pensively leaned against a nearby wall adjacent to the souvenir shop, her face grim and speculative. They were supposed to make up their mind. What were they going to do?
"I think we should go to Dachon," she muttered. "There'd be a better reception there."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The interior of the station came as a surprise to Aisha. As soon as she calmed her irritation down enough to pay attention to their surroundings, her eyes took on a look of appreciation for the impressive architecture. Just as impressive as the city had been, it seemed more reminiscent of a small airport section of an airport than a train station. But, always taking a liking to traveling on foot rather than with crowds, it was just the slight unfamiliarity of it all for the panthress. Whatever got them all out of there, she figured.
She set her small, wet travel pack on the floor next to her and looked up as Stygian addressed the group. She crossed her arms, tilting her head as the question was assessed on where to go from there. And then everyone followed his gaze to the announcement board, where there were three possible places...Aisha could swear that she heard two of the names somewhere before, vaguely...but the third one she was somewhat familiar with. Jann's Cliff. During her early adventuring days she had passed through the place once or twice. Judging by the map she had in her head, it would be a little closer to familiar territory as well, which was more than fine by her.
"I agree with Gareeku," she nodded. "It's not that bad of a place, and if I remember, Creatures and Beings of all sorts stop there." Anything to get us far out, she silently added.
While the others were pondering and agreeing on the destinations, Aisha had noticed that the group was splitting to take care of things like clothing...the panthress decided it would be a good time as well, and excused herself to find a bathroom. A few moments later, she came back in the attire of an adventurer, warm and long-sleeved navy trousers and shirt with her cape securely fastened once again in a golden collar. The cape's color was crimson, for the time being.
She gave the long coat that Mel lended back to the disguised dragon with gratitude and leaned against the wall, listening to the others. She quirked an eyebrow at Keaton's remark about Dachon, while she worked her wet hair into a braid again. "Why there, moreover?" she inquired, curiously.
Kerya sat on the bench beside the others, placing her bag carefully so that it didn't lean against her wet leg. None of the places they talked about meant anything to her, of course, so she waited until the discussion of where they would go next began to wind down. Then she leaned forward a little and cleared her throat. "Now that we have a moment of peace to gather ourselves and groom our tails, Sebastian seems to have forgotten to introduce me," she said with a hint of humour in her voice and one ear cocked in the bat's direction. "I am Kerya, accredited Master mage of the Four Rings school. Who do I have the honour of accompanying on this venture?"
Richard simply stood and tried not to look at anyone in particular. On your average city street it was easy to avoid notice, but in a train station people were a lot more likely to take note of the people around them, lest one of them become curious about their luggage. He could almost feel himself being stared at, given a wider berth than would normally be afforded one who walked in with a pack of creatures and adventurers. People worried about undead, thought you could be infected by a glare... He shot a glare at an old woman who'd substantially slowed down to look. She looked away hurriedly and moved on.
He didn't have much to say about where they were going. One place was as good as another, although he'd have to call Marya and explain where that place was. He wasn't particularly worried about her having trouble with the havoc that was consuming the city; every time he'd been dragged on something like this before she'd been right beside him, the mongoose was quite capable of looking after herself.
"A bunch of damn unlucky S.O.Bs..." Richard muttered under his breath to Kerya's question. A bit louder he added, "Name's Richard. Charmed, I'm sure."
Mel received her coat from Aisha with a grateful smile. While the cold rain hadn't bothered her at all the warmth of the station was starting to annoy her and her heavily enchanted coat would return her to her preferred cool state. With a quick snap the sodden coat was returned to a pristine state of dry and soft suede. She pulled the coat on quickly and was fastening up the row of silver clasps when the small mage introduced herself. The dragon paused in refastening her belt pouch to give a formal bow. "I am most often known as Mel. A magic user claimed by no particular school."
Aisha had finished braiding her hair and simply leaned back on the wall, awaiting an answer to her question, when she heard the ferret speak up and introduce herself, finally. The panthress gave a polite head-bow back when it was her turn. "Kerya...good to meet you then. Aisha deCabre, bounty hunter." She smirked. "And I'm also not particularly affiliated with a school that'd be familiar around here."
In truth, though, Aisha was quite protective of her place of training and the people that went there. There was saying things, and then there was the likelihood of saying too much.
"Cogidubnus Mithlome, swordsman of the school of Eishin, descended from the Shinmei Muso school." The wolf said, leaning back onto the concrete wall, and tipped his hat to the little mage. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance." The wolf's voice was sincere.
He looked back up at the board proclaiming destinations and times, and scratched his chin, wondering absently where they were going to end up. Jann's Cliff seemed to be the majority vote so far, but anywhere that wasn't Haszal suited Cog. He took a deep breath and waited.
The sudden rush of introductions, something that could well be called pleasantries, made Stygian snarl and roll his eyes, glaring back and forth between the assembled. 'The subject? At hand?!' he insisted. 'The train for Jann's Cliff leaves in less than ten minutes. I'd rather be on that train before our pursuers find their way here.'
...Keaton:
In response to Aisha's question, Keaton merely shrugged her shoulders and said, "Demons don't normally make cities, but if Dachon is anything like Zinvth it shouldn't have any objection to us showing up in the first place. I trust it more..." She folded her arms adamantly beneath her bosom, voluminous tail sweeping behind her. Honestly, she didn't mind debating with Aisha about their future destination; it almost distracted her from Deirdre. Almost.
"Depends on how far away this place you guys are talking about is..." Keaton trailed off, cupping her chin and examining the list of departures again. Again her attention was grabbed by Kerya stepping forward and introducing herself, stating the name of an academy Keaton had never heard of. Blinking, the jackal quirked her ears individually and stared after the little stoat. Despite her skepticism at this Four Rings school, she decided to be courteous, and shunted aside her curiosity. "Good to meet you, Kerya. I'm Keaton, token unpleasant bitch of the group."
When Stygian demanded they return to the previous topic, Keaton sighed and resigned. "Alright. I'll change my vote to Jann's Cliff. Probably not much point in sticking with the minority vote..."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Mel looked around, and spotted the ticket counter. It had almost disappeared behind a wall of frantic people trying to flee the city. As she started towards it she asked, "How many tickets? Anyone planning on abandoning our happy traveling circus?"
Casting a distant glance over Mel's shoulder, Stygian hummed and frowned. 'Well, I know one who won't show up right now, at least,' he said, clearly referring to Edge. Bloody Cubi. If he didn't chicken out he's stalking us. I've got to find some way to make sure he can find me, and vice versa. Without... complications. Part of Stygian was relieved that the jaguar was gone, but certainly not the part that liked to be aware of all circumstances. The best way, of course, would be to go through the others... he thought.
Getting back to the issue at hand, Stygian readjusted his grip on the gryphon to slinging her over his shoulder, just slightly more comfortable a stance at the moment. 'Distance is not a problem. The more we put between us and here and faster, the better. Time though is a problem. We need more of it. We need to think,' he said. 'But we can't allow ourselves to slow down too much.'
"Demon city..." Aisha said with a sudden grimace as she heard Keaton describe the destination that she had preferred. Now the panthress felt slightly adverse...though she could imagine the better feelings that the Creatures in the group had to traveling into a more Creature-oriented town, she couldn't think of being too comfortable in such a place. Especially with the fact that it was centered around a race she despised.
She shook her head and was about to say something, when Stygian interrupted with the urgency of getting on the train to some destination...to which, even Keaton decided that Jann's Cliff was the one, to stay with the group. Nodding in satisfaction, she watched as Mel started toward the ticket booth and nodded at her inquiry. "Sí, I'm going. Considering things outside, there seems to be little choice in the matter."
At least she hoped that all the rushing would stop soon. There was often nothing more irritating than feeling that all you had to do was run.
Kerya nodded and murmured a few polite words as everyone introduced themselves, although it was only with an effort to keep her face and ears impassive that she hid her discomfort with Richard. He might not be the same kind of walking dead she had been trained to deal with, but that training ran deep, and it wasn't easy to ignore its demands for action.
In contrast, Keaton's reply drew a raised eyebrow and a cocked ear from the little stoat: judging by the twitch in her whiskers she might have heard something funny, or perhaps what she'd heard was not quite what the jackal had said.
Sebastian's remarks about running out of time spurred Kerya into action. "That is a good point, Sebastian," she said as she hopped down from her seat and picked up her bag, careful to hold it away from her wet dress. As before, she held her staff in the crook of her arm. She nodded towards the archway leading to the platforms. "Perhaps we had better head over there now while someone gets our tickets. I have known carriage drivers who delight in leaving someone in their dust who arrives only a moment late."
'What she said,' Stygian said hastily after Kerya spoke, turning to the side a bit as if he were about to step around and leave at once. 'They won't wait for us. And we're standing out in the open here. So...?' He gave them what he hoped was a rousing look-over and then began walking over toward the ticket check-out under the large archway leading to the platforms.
Mel, who was halfway to the ticket counter, kept walking straight towards it despite the seething crowd. As she did the air within an arms reach of her became bitterly cold, the patterned granite of the floor taking on frosty traceries of lace at each step. She didn't push or shove like the panicked beings before her, but the way neatly parted ahead of her as only the most frightened or hardy of their fellow travelers resisted the urge to move away from the skin burning cold wrapped around her. The disguised dragon ignored the dangerous mutterings of those displaced, they had bigger problems than unhappy refugees.
It only took a minute for her to make her way to the front of the line. The ticket seller gave her a sour look similar to the one the guards had given Keaton upon realizing she was a cubi, but as he had no proof she had done anything abnormal he quickly answered her questions. She turned to Ignatz, who was nearby and asked, "Two family cabins adequate?"
The bat raised his brow, then nodded. 'That should be perfectly adequate. If you get the tickets I'll pay you back later,' he said, ignoring the very surprised stare at the gryphon over his shoulder from the spectacled raccoon woman behind the ticket counter. 'We just have to make sure to get on that train. That's enough.'
Mel dropped a handful of glittering coin on the counter and waited for the appropriate pile of papers to be produced. As she waited she glanced at the large, gilt-hand clock prominently stationed in the center of the lobby. They only had a few minutes to cross the station and find the correct train. She could faintly hear the first call warning passengers to get onboard. Everyone in the party had better be prepared to run. The ticket agent pushed the papers across the counter and Mel snatched them up. "Got them, let's go."
...Keaton:
Standing from afar, Keaton observed all the proceeding events rather indifferently, anxiously shuffling her feet and glancing about the station. Once Mel had all the arrangements organized and properly prepared for their departure, Keaton was quick to gather herself and pursue the rest of the group, running as fast as she could from behind them.
Since she had morphed her sleek and sable high heels into her favorite combat boots keeping up was rather easy, although she didn't like the extra effort that had to be put into their mad dash. For now, she couldn't wait to relax in the relative safety and comfort of their cabin.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya joined the mass rush towards the platforms, her short legs covering the distance surprisingly quickly. She still dripped and squelched with every step. Once we are safely on our way, she thought, I really must get myself properly cleaned up and groomed, I look terrible.
Snatching a pair of tickets from Mel, Stygian rushed through the archway and through a crowd out into the great boarding hall, the many platforms therein running out from the floor and stretching out on all sides. A faint fog hung in the air and clouds of steam drifted up from the engines, massive metal beasts of pistons, tanks and boilers and wheels, covering the signposts that indicated the different platforms slightly. Shifting his gaze between the ticket and the many platforms, the bat kept his pace while searching, hoping they were heading in the right direction. In Haszal they made efficiency a principle, and thus you could count on the trains running dead on time, which left little margin for taking your time.
Just as Stygian had gotten his bearing, a voice cut through the air from before them. 'Last call! Dalos, Jann's Cliff and Westedge! Last call!' The bat sprinted, Deirdre shaking on his shoulder, and caught sight of their train, a long, dark silvery steam turbine juggernaut trailing a host of green- and red-painted cars. The conductor, looking incredibly small next to the massive machine, was waving in the last of the crowd on the platform, while station personnel were loading in the last pieces of luggage and other articles into the rear cars. Stygian reached the last passenger car and hopped up on the steps into the train, grabbing a brass handle and putting his other arm over Deirdre and leaning back out to look for the others.
With startling suddenness, it was time to go. Kerya and Keaton dashed up to the dragon to grab tickets, the parties destination suddenly decided, and Cog followed suit, taking a ticket and thanking the dragon before dashing off after them. Stygian was in front of all of them, and the wolf kept the bat in sight.
A huge train of red-and-green cars seemed to be the one they were looking for - through the crowd, Cog could see Stygian leap onto the back and turn. He jogged after them, the loudspeaker's words of haste echoing in his ears. He managed to reach the train in short order, and grasping the brass bar climbed up the stairs and onto the car's back platform.
Aisha's mind, much like some of the others, was standing on the precipice of impatience. Once the introductions to Kerya were over with, she glanced up as Mel made her way to the front of the ticket line...and with a pretty effective method to it as well. She heard her ask Ignatz about how many cars there would be for all nine of them.
The panther made a head-count just to be sure...yes, nine, and some of them were individuals that had replaced people who had started on the adventure and just disappeared instead. She wondered what happened, and just shook her head. Condolences to them if they are lost, fie on them if they are just rude. Time was lost on the large party now.
And that was when her ears pricked, catching the announcement that the train was boarding, followed by a quickly-rushing Mel, with the tickets snatched up. The group sprang to their feet, and Aisha was quick to spring as well, hoisting her pack, grabbing a ticket, and catching up with the others in one swift move.
It was just a mad dash now...to the outside, to the platforms, to the sleek cars that were warming up just as the last call was made. Stygian at the forefront had leaped to the passenger car, and it was time to follow suit. The panthress grabbed the handle to the stairs and jumped onto a platform, sighing with relief that there wouldn't be more running for a little while. "Vamos, people, let's go!" she called out to those who had yet to hop on.
Kerya swerved in her run to intercept Mel, picking up a ticket from the snow leopard as they both rushed for the platforms. Her first sight of the hissing, clanking metal monsters almost shocked her into slowing down. She picked up speed again, though her eyes were wider and her ears laid a bit further back than usual. She lost sight of Sebastian for a moment in the swirling mass of people, but then she spotted Aisha's dark red cloak and followed her through the crowd until the black leopard jumped on board one of the carriages. Kerya grabbed a handrail and scrambled up right behind.
Along with the rest of the group Mel ran. A bit of magic cleared a path through the crowd. It was a good thing they weren't staying or she'd develop a rather antisocial reputation. Through the steamy, smoky atmosphere of the platforms their train appeared before her. The conductors were pulling away the steps, it was later than the last moment. But a jump and a grab got her inside the car before it pulled away.
A loud, fluting sound split the steamy atmosphere of the station hall, the engine driver signaling that they were departing. Helping Mel up inside the car with a hand, Stygian leaned out and called back to the others, still running toward the train. Keaton was ahead, followed by Gareeku and then a visibly unsettled and much-hesitant Richard at the rear. 'Come on! Get on, or we're leaving without you!' the bat shouted. A shudder rocked the train, as the engine switched into gear and began pulling forward.
- -
The burning chaos of the club was quite far behind them already, but Ace had no problem hurrying to put more distance between herself and that scene. It was, as she remembered, a quite expected result of this sort of thing, and most of all of pushing Stygian into a trap. She blamed that one for it all. She knew full well that in the end he was most likely the one source and cause of this sort of thing. Not that her irritation was limited to the bat.
'What the Hell were you thinking?!' the wolfess growled at the jackal running beside her, the exceptionally trained man still having some problem keeping up with the other canine's pace. 'You should have waited for it, and we could have gone in the back if you hadn't rushed off so bloody early!'
Laertes was having to keep up a good trot to stay with the canine in front of him, and although Ace was running just a bit fast, but even so, the Jackal's face was serenity itself. At her words, however, the Jackal merely raised an eyebrow and looked to the road in front of them, somehow speaking calmly while running.
"I underestimated him." the Jackal said simply, his words truly contrite. He paused for a moment, his eyes glancing over the wolfess in front of him. Although calm, they had just a slight edge to them. "But to go in the back would have been foolishness itself. You do not fight in close quarters with him."
He held the wolfess's gaze for a moment longer before continuing. "I waited until it was prudent to wait no longer." he said humbly, and doubled his stride. "And through my actions he was unable to escape without the most extreme effort."
He grew silent, musing, and doubled his stride. "I should have expected it, really..."
Nodding slightly at Kerya in greeting, Gareeku stayed silent as the others talked. When the tickets were obtained, the wolf ran with the others to the platform, jumping onto the train and helping people in if they needed it.
Richard hadn't been surprised at Kerya's discomfort; he knew what he was. He clambered onto the train with the others and threw himself into a seat. It was one of those times that never getting exhausted helped.
So, here he was. Over the course of two days he had been pried from his comfortable life, been attacked, fought mercenaries, and was now on a train getting away from the city he'd lived in with Marya for who knows how long. Marya... Oh goddammit, Marya... He wasn't worried about her getting attacked by the beats the city was infested with; he knew this woman. He almost felt bad for the monsters. Almost. However, he didn't let anyone else repair him. Didn't trust anyone else to do it. He'd only barely allowed Stygian to out of necessity, and didn't want the bat's powers messing with him too much. It was strange and, like many other things that had happened since that first burning bar he'd driven away from, was most likely dangerous.
He kept to himself as the others filed onto the train.
Finally shutting the door and walking back into the corridor through the first car, Stygian walked for a bit before turning toward the others. None of them save Richard really looked tired, but everyone seemed disoriented and on edge. Most likely they had no clue as to what was going on. He was going to have to do something to change that, soon. As for now...
Taking his ticket from Mel, who'd caught it while he was carrying Deirdre, the bat hastily checked their cabin numbers, and then took another long look at the others. He sighed. 'Right. You may want to sit down or catch a bite. I'll be in the first cabin,' he said, and then walked off.
The cabins they had paid for were situated in the next car, two cars back from the restaurant, and were rather more spacious than one might have expected, due to the size of the train itself. Decorate sofas that could be converted into beds were set against the sides of the cabin, while the middle contained an extendable table. Stygian walked in, and then shut the door behind him, beginning to move the unconscious but slowly wakening gryphon over in the small area. Putting one hand beneath her buttocks and the other up under her neck, he moved down on one sofa, placing her on his knees while aiming to prop her up into something nearing a sitting position. And now you got saddled with another adventurer, he thought. A bit too many people other than the immediately involved in on this, don't you think?
...Keaton:The jackal had caught up to everyone easily and had leaped aboard the train before it lurched into motion, still gripping Deirdre's sword. After the exerting events which had occurred prior to them boarding the train, Keaton felt genuinely relieved that some form of reprieve had been granted, as was evidenced through the relinquishment of the tension in her posture and her disintegrating countenance. Some distant, relentlessly logical fraction of her mind attempted to remind her that the train probably wouldn't be sufficient defense against a bombardment by a monster, only for Keaton to effortlessly snort in retaliation. She just wanted to enjoy the moment of silence.
She still had Deirdre's sword. It probably wasn't wise to give it to Stygian. Instead, slinging the scabbard over her shoulder by its strap, Keaton trudged behind the rest of her companions and decided to make herself comfortable in the cabin. She felt she deserved some sort of break.
---
...Deirdre:Deirdre's head hurt, and for a split second she thought it was the cancer. Almost as though the tumor dwelling in her brain had inflated ten times its size and had devoured her mind whole.
Unconsciousness wasn't a very good place for rational thought.
From where she was draped like a sack of potatoes over Stygian's shoulder, our classically-clad Gryphon cross-dressing heroine stirred slightly, too imperceptible to be noticed, and since she had went limp amidst her struggle the next second there was nothing to indicate her awakening. Even then, undetected, her tapered ears tilted and angled themselves as she tried to force herself out of the darkness; tried to reclaim her body and seize control over her movements again. Deirdre tensed slightly as she felt herself move involuntarily, making her come blindly to the realization that she was being handled by someone else.
But who? The last moment she remembered was her being in the car, and that massive shockwave coming right at her, and her head impacting the wall, and everything going so, so dark. She thought she was
dead. She thought the tumor had burst in her head like a balloon and--fuck, there went her rational thought process again. She was panicking. Deirdre had to move. Who knew what was happening, and--
Membrane-coated eyes wearily opened just in time to steadily absorb the figure holding her. Alabaster and velveteen in coat, of indistinguishable species--hell, everything was a blur, even moreso than usual--although reminiscent of the bat-monster which she vaguely recalled assaulting her during her encounter with Keaton in the alleyway. He seemed to be holding her in a rather awkward position, and--
Oh.
Fuck.
His hand was on her buttock.
Whether she was prepared or not, or if she had full function over her body, Deirdre felt herself react. Life seemed to surge back into her formerly limp limbs as her fingers clenched and her knuckles popped outward against her skin, the plumage on her back bristling agitatedly. That horrid headache which she only just realized was there intensified in pressure as she felt her terror escalate, and then, quite possibly to the shock and/or discomfort of all parties involved, released a very feminine and very indignant scream.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Stygian's rough handling of Deirdre was cut short, when she opened her eyes and looked at him, blurry eyes slowly and groggily spreading. Sure looks damn pretty for a guy, the bat thought for a short moment, and he was about to comment on 'his' awakening when he noticed Dierdre's features tense. The next second, the gryphon let out a high-pitched shriek, ear-splitting to the bat. Stygian closed his eyes and snapped his jaws open, throwing his hands up to cover his ears, his claws slicing through and pulling on the gryphon's clothes with that hasty movement. Deirdre felt a stinging as her skin was cut, and the bat almost threw her away.
When Deirdre's scream came to an end, it was taken over by the feral, monstrous snarling that Stygian emitted, until he stopped that short as well. He clenched his teeth hard, oversized fangs bared, and glared at her, still growling somewhere down in his throat, before he erupted into snarling speech. 'Hell damn it, what the fuck is your problem?!' he fumed.
Mel trailed along the narrow hallway of the train until they reached the cabins. She thought she should offer to look at the griffon in her healing capacity. He had been unconscious quite a while. As she approached the doorways she wondered which cabin Ignatz had chosen to deposit the unconscious creature. Then a high scream echoed through the car, harmonizing with a low growl that could only be Ignatz. She poked her head into the appropriate cabin. "I take it that the patient is now conscious. How are you feeling?"
Aisha watched from the rail of the train as the others behind made haste to catch the stairs before they left. Kerya, Mel, Gareeku, Richard...counting the others, all nine of the group members made it onto the giant snaking machine with little problems. When the whistle sounded, the panthress could breathe a sigh of relief. Everyone could. They were going to leave a town decimated by gods-knew-what behind them.
Stygian's assessment of the group was quite correct...on edge and uneasy, the evening air carrying with it a foreboding. But they were all together, and they were safe for the time being. Provided that they ran into nothing else on the train ride, Aisha looked forward to a good rest.
The huntress spared a quick nod to the bat as he left to tend to their newest and probably unwilling party member, the gryphon. She walked to a cabin and peered inside, before turning to the others. "I dunno about you, amigos, but the first thing I'm gonna do is grab my seat. Then food."
An inner part of Aisha rolled its eyes at her as she strolled to the cabin and placed her stuff next to a window. She was as confused as the rest of the group, and intimidated by what had happened. But, that wasn't going to stop her from trying to be at least a little comfortable.
Standing with the others, Gareeku took his ticket from Mel. Listening to Aisha talk of getting a seat and then food, the wolf nodded his head in agreement.
"Good idea. I think we could do with a little relaxation for the moment." he commented. Watching Aisha disappear into one cabin, Gareeku stayed where he was for a minute or so, before deciding to follow her. Entering the cabin, Gareeku then put his things to the side, where he would return to retrieve them after eating before going to a cabin of his own. "Hope you don't mind me joining you."
As Aisha looked about the cabin that she chose, impressed with the size and the space that it offered, she glanced out of the window and into the dark landscape...she shuddered as the clouds didn't seem to be dissipating. Let this trip be peaceful... she thought, almost in prayer.
That was when the panther heard footsteps from behind, followed by Gareeku's voice. She turned to face the wolf, noticing that he had placed his own things in the cabin. A light smile crossed her face. "I don't mind at all." As she stood up and walked back to the door, she put a hand on his shoulder and looked up at him. "Truth be told, among the current group and circumstances...I can think of no better company than you."
With a sincere grin, and a tinge of red hidden in the black fur on her face, she let her hand slide from his arm and looked outside and around. "What say we see what things they have to eat on this big chunk of metal, then?"
Looking at Aisha as she replied to his comment, Gareeku felt her hand softly on his shoulder and smiled. It wasn't a smirk, but a warm smile; something that hadn't been on his face in a long time.
"That's good to hear..." the wolf replied softly, gazing into her eyes as he spoke.
Listening to Aisha speak of finding somewhere to eat on the train, the wolf smirked.
"My thought's exactly." Gareeku replied, the soft smile returning in place of the smirk as he stood back from the doorway to allow the pantheress through.
Cog followed the rest of them inside the first car, his ticket in hand. Stygian carried the gryphon to the next car, and the rest of them started filing into the train, starting to make themselves comfortable. Cog could feel the train accelerating through his legs, and being careful to keep his balance he turned for just a moment, staring back at the city.
If what the bat said was true, the entire city would soon be gone. A disaster area. The wolf made a small sigh, his eyes drifting towards the hideous, scarlike spiral in the sky, and shook his head at the ground before turning back to the inside of the cabin.
His first sight was that Cubi, and one of Cog's eyebrows raised.
On Keaton's shoulder, he noticed that strange sword again, with the curved blade and the Pappenheimer hilt. He took a step forward, and then paused - the succubus looked rather tired. He paused, a pained look on his face, and with almost a reluctant movement walked towards the Jackal Cubi. Swordsman's curiosity won out over considerateness, but even so, when he spoke, his voice was soft.
"Excuse me? Ms...Keaton?" he said politely. "I truly don't mean to bother you, but...might I see that sword you have there?"
'Conscious and loud,' Stygian commented, frowning hard at Deirdre's confused and shocked face. 'Excuse me!' he said indignantly, before putting his hand under the gryphon again, and his other on her back, and before she could protest, lifted her up and promptly dropped her next to him in the sofa.
The bat paused for a second, straightening his pants with large hands, claws still a bit too long out. 'By the way, thank you for letting us borrow your car so we could all evade certain death,' he said, his intonation painfully easy to catch.
...Keaton:Amidst her stride towards the opposite cabin, Keaton was only vaguely aware of Cogidubnus's comment. Ears pivoted upright as she turned her head around so she could directly look at him, her eyebrow raised. What did he want? Something about a sword? The weight leaning against her back suddenly reminded her of the weapon dangling from her grip. Not having any respect for Deirdre's blade, she had preferred to hold it in a more casual manner, though she would certainly catch hell from the Gryphon when she finally woke up. Ah well. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it.
Besides, if the wolf was interested, she had no qualms about passing responsibility for safeguarding Deirdre's sword to him. Grasping the scabbard, Keaton walked over and dropped it into Cog's hands, then stretched her arms upright, folding them behind her head. "Knock yourself out," she stated leisurely. "I'll be in the cabin. Keep the sword as long as you'd like. I'm getting rid of this crappy dress."
And with that, she walked off toward the cabin, humming lightly to herself.
---
...Deirdre:Halfway through her high-pitched scream, Deirdre felt the strong hands which were holding her upright suddenly give away as they swept up and grasped at their owner's ears, shielding them from the sound which resonated through the cabin. She flailed briefly, unaware of the lacerations which were created in her outfit, as though it would have some effect on her descent, only for her to land in an unceremonious heap on the floor. Instantly, she scrambled away from Stygian's feet and skittered to a safe distance, heaving and gasping. Fuck. FUCK! Where was her sword? Why couldn't she find her sword? Did she lose it when her car was decimated? Fucking hell, she needed her sword, and she didn't think she could cast magic because her head hurt so fucking much and she couldn't risk it going haywire in the middle of
a goddamn train cabin or wherever the hell she was, and--
Oh fuck, someone else was entering. Deirdre's head snapped in Mel's direction, her ears falling backwards. God dammit, she--she--
"What the
HELL IS GOING ON?!" Deirdre demanded, sounding absolutely hysterical. Before she could truly start panicking, however, Stygian picked her up and deposited her right next to him, on the sofa. Being so close to someone who was ferally growling at her unnerved Deirdre, but then he mentioned something--in rather odd intonation--about her letting "them" letting her borrow her car. That shut her up.
Them? Who was them? Oh wait, they meant--they meant Keaton and her strange new accomplices. Deirdre clenched her beek shut as all that had happened came flowing back once more. The city. It was going to be destroyed. Those monsters would spread everywhere, and utterly eviscerate the city. People would die, and--sighing with frustration, resignation, and some other unpleasant carrion emotions, Deirdre slumped her head in her hands and moaned. "Shit. I--you--" Finally, she lifted her head from her hands and stared with sunken, cataract-clad eyes at Stygian and Mel. "What's going on?" she repeated, although in a much more reasonable volume.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Cog took a step back, his face uncertain for a moment, and then nodded to the Cubi and took the sword. The dangling kitty-charm that hung from the hilt distracted his eyes for a moment, and almost made the wolf stop then and there and start looking over the sword, but he simply took the blade in hand, bowing his head at the succubus in front of him and holding the sword lightly at his side. The hilt touched the ground, slightly.
"Thank you - my apologies for bothering you." he said to the tired succubus, his voice contrite, and waited just a moment before turning and walking into the relatively open area in the first car.
He situated himself out of the way, or at least as much out of the way as he could in a cramped train-car, and set the sword on his lap, simply looking at it. He seemed to bore holes into the scabbard and hilt before gently taking the handle of the blade in-hand, and deftly and smoothly removing it from the scabbard, pulling the sheath off rather than drawing the blade forward. The curved blade sparkled in the dark, stormcloud light for a moment, dully reflecting the cloudy sky, and the wolf brought the blade up close and smelled. Was it oiled, or perhaps she used magic to keep it well-finished...
He continued to examine the blade, curious about the strange configuration of the western-hilted, curved sword. He examined the blade and the edge itself, peering closely at the edge and trying to determine the quality of the forging. Curved blades could be exceptionally hard to make. He even delicately swung it a few times, testing the balance, and shook the hilt in his hand to test the blade's fit.
It was some time before he slid the sword back into the sheath, nodding softly to himself.
Kerya followed Sebastian as he led the group through the train to their cabin. She wasn't quite tired yet, but the last hour or so had been quite eventful, and it was beginning to wear on her. Once in the cabin she almost sat down, before she remembered she still needed to dry off. "Shave it," she muttered, "if we don't have time to relax now, we never will." She propped her staff against the wall and put the bag down on the floor beside it.
"I am about to get myself dried out, at long last," she said as she stood in the far end of the cabin, out of everyone's way. "If any of you are still feeling chilled, stand about an arm's length from me."
The little stoat raised one arm above her head and made a graceful swirling gesture, accompanied by a quiet word or two. The air surrounding her began to stir, a breeze quickly building into a brisk wind, then powerful gusts twisting back on themselves, warming up until Kerya stood in the middle of a comfortably hot miniature cyclone. She basked in the heat, turning this way and that, keeping the spell running until the last handsbreadth of her dress and her underpelt was thoroughly dry, and the last of the chill thawed out of her bones.
The entire process had been quite noisy, though, so she never heard the loud, feminine scream of outrage that echoed from the other cabin, where Sebastian had carried the unconscious bird-thing.
The shriek startled Richard out of his rest. Pushing his other concerns to the side for a moment he got up and made his way over to the cabin Stygian had deposited the gryphon into. If the fiasco with those cops was any indication then he really didn't trust the bat alone in there with the poor guy. The musician heard muffled babbling through the door as he approached, and leaned next to the room to listen in. Just in case anybody did anything... Untoward.
Knowing that a long and complicated explanation would be useless, Stygian opted for stating the facts in the simplest, most brutal way. 'We're on a train inbound for Jann's Cliff. We're going there to escape, as Haszal is basically under attack. Your car got wrecked in a crash, and you were knocked out, so we carried you with us,' he said, and gave the gryphon a hard, though no longer angry look. 'I am sorry if that will prove to be a mistake, but I thought it only proper, and we have a healer with us.' With that last statement, he nodded toward Mel.
Aisha smiled back to the wolf as he allowed her first through the entryway, nodding her thanks. It was certainly softening to her heart, to see Gareeku's smile once again...a rare and comforting familiarity, just as it had been when they were dancing together before. For a few moments, it felt like her heart refused to cease its rapid pounding...
Before she started, however, she heard a slight commotion going on back toward the first car. Peering around curiously, the panthress and wolf could catch sight of a few of the others as they claimed their cabins...and some curious about where Stygian had taken the Gryphon. Her ears pinned to her skull. She thought that she heard an unfamiliar scream just moments ago too...her hearing was good, but not too precise, and Aisha nearly wrote it off as someone outside.
But at least the train was moving away from the trouble...and things were getting to be rather quiet now, believing that whatever had caused it was under control. There was a pause, before she shook her head and glanced back up at Gareeku, one hand caressing a slightly aching forehead. "For once I wouldn't like to deal with trouble today," she remarked with a slight roll of her eyes, and led the way back towards the food car.
Mel bowed politely to the gryphon. "You were unconscious quite a while. I imagine you are feeling sore at the very least. Will you trust me to heal you?" The dragon disguised as a leopard looked at the newest addition to the group closely for the first time. Male to all outward appearances that scream had sounded very female. Not that gender mattered to the healing. Mel could see a bent beak and a big lump on the side of hir head as the most obvious and outward injuries.
Stygian took a short pause, rubbing his temple and leaning back against the seat, his ears still tense and twitching from the screaming abuse. Having another adventurer along was good for safety reasons, and seeing as how 'he' was entirely unknown to everyone save Keaton there would probably be no following 'him'. That might be convenient, if they wanted business done that they could not do themselves. The question was, would 'he' bring some other sort of trouble with him?
'I am sorry for the inconvenience, really,' the bat said, and looked over at Deirdre. 'I can pay you for the ticket back, or anywhere else really. But for now you're on this train with us.' He took his eyes from the gryphon for a moment, before he remembered something and looked back. 'Oh, yes. And Keaton. Is that... an issue?'
...Keaton:Keaton entered the cabin shortly after she left Cogidubnus behind with Deirdre's sword, the surface of her dress seeming to ripple and melt off of her like a syrupy, black ichor, each dollop and droplet retreating into the darkness that reached towards her form. Seizing the excess magic which composed the flowing hem of her dress, Keaton swept the remainder of the rippling gown around like a cocoon, encompassing her body with the shadowy fabric. The instant it touched her skin it melted away, flowing and reshaping itself into the form of a comfortable, black sleeveless top and equally leisurely pants secured with a sable belt, baggy and loose. The rest of the shadows oozed off onto her arms, forming a pair of voluminous armwarmers, also fastened to her upper arms with smaller belts.
The transformation had occurred within the span of a second, quite to Keaton's appreciation. Dusting her new attire off, Keaton strolled over to recline in one of the nearest seats, hopefully to release some of the tension which still gripped her bones.
---
...Deirdre:
'We're on a train inbound for Jann's Cliff. We're going there to escape, as Haszal is basically under attack. Your car got wrecked in a crash, and you were knocked out, so we carried you with us. I am sorry if that will prove to be a mistake, but I thought it only proper, and we have a healer with us.'In response to this realization, Deirdre's expression only seemed to weaken under the weight of Stygian's words, her head falling back in her hands, face-first. That fucking headache was really making matters worse for her escalating stress and tension. Try as she might, Deirdre knew she couldn't drive it away on her own, and it was unwise to continue to do so. Something so intangible, yet palpably pounding away at her skull, couldn't simply be pried off and flung away. She needed a healer's ministrations. Magical inclinations or not, Deirdre knew no healing spells, and could only accept the offer from Mel.
Sighing, she canted her head in Mel's direction, exposing the tumescent bump over her eye. Precisely where she had struck the side of the car. "Alright," she admitted, "Heal away."
As Mel approached her upon receiving her confirmation, Deirdre redirected her gaze towards Stygian. At the mention of Keaton's name she flinched quite graphically, then narrowed her eyes. "I don't know what your business is with her, but it'd be a very bad decision to travel with Keaton," she stated. "I don't know if you know about her, but back... back when I was Adventuring, I fought with her. She's a vicious, coldblooded killer."
A pause. Then Deirdre tentatively continued, "Doesn't... doesn't that mean anything to you all?"
~Keaton the Black Jackal
For a few seconds Stygian merely stared at Deirdre, not a muscle in his face moving. When he spoke, his voice was unemotionally boorish. 'I'm sorry, do you think you're telling me something that I don't know?' he asked. He didn't wait for any sort of response. 'My dear, I am a cold-blooded killer, and I can safely say that I hold Keaton for better than myself. Because honestly I think she has her good sides as well, whereas I... don't.' He didn't add anything to that. No grin, no intonation, no gesture or hint that might have led one to believe that he were anything but serious.
At the gryphon's acquiescence Mel approached. Very delicately her slightly chill fingers searched out the edges of the hematoma amidst the feathers before starting the healing. Once the obvious injury was dealt with her magic roamed further, dealing with concussion and the dented beak. From there she went outward to search out all the little bumps and bruises the car wreck had generated. When she, a fact confirmed during the healing, asked her question the disguised dragon just shrugged. "If one limits their acquaintance to saints they will have a very reduced social circle."
...Deirdre:
Even amidst the gentle suffusion of Mel's healing magic, Deirdre's expression mirrored nothing but absolute disgust. The bump swelling on the side of her head was steadily decreasing as Mel's chilled fingers massaged it, soon disappearing into her scalp, then the bony dent in her beak started to adjust itself, assisted by the magical acceleration. Unconsciously, she tested her repaired beak by drawing air through her nostrils, no longer finding that nasal passage clogged with mucilaginous blood, and then she analyzed Stygian's expression for any sign of sarcasm. She found none. With trepidation, she realized that the bat was serious--truly serious.
This was insane. She had been rescued by, and was expecting to travel with, murderers? In spite of the intimidating presence the bat emanated, Deirdre narrowed her eyes virulently at Stygian, then emitted an unladylike and acidic snort. "So I suppose you've killed fifteen Beings and had supposedly stolen their souls as well, not to mention were involved in several other disappearances? I doubt that's something being really, truly nice, if you squint your eyes hard enough, deep, deep down inside can excuse!" Another derisive growl, and she glared at Mel. "I'm not asking for saints. The average saint will tell you that, despite the fact I've contributed twelve years to Adventuring, am going to Hell. I couldn't care less if someone has their minor deep dark secret or skeletons in their closet, such as that time they cheated on a math test when they were seven or secretly wants to get enough implants to cover their stomach with tits. I don't live in some fantasy world where everybody's perfect. But it's when somebody ends up killing another person and laughs about it afterwards that you cross the goddamn line in my book."
With that tirade finished, Deirdre took a deep breath, her ears fell backwards, and she dropped her head back in her hands, almost as though her migraine had returned tenfold. It hadn't, but since she supposed that her outburst would not exactly be applauded by the chiropteran and his cohort, she savored what reprieve she had and braced herself. Breaking the silence, she spoke up almost cordially, although with a voice too flat to carry any sarcasm. "So, are you meaning to tell me that everyone in this group of yours is a murderer, one way or another?"
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Most people couldn't tell when Richard was smiling, but he did anyway. He even chuckled a little, although if anyone asked later he'd say it was a cough. Good news. Well I'll be damned. The other two adventurers in the group seemed capable of forgiving an atom bomb, the dragon didn't get fazed by nil, Cog was Cog and the new girl was just strange. He was sick of being the group's sole voice of reason. Good news doesn't happen to me too much, gonna have to mark my calender for this.
Stygian leaned back in his seat, and almost put his hand up to rub at his temple yet again. She was going to be troublesome, this one. Some adventurers had the good habit of not being so judgmental, and of having a bit of self-distance, not to mention the foresight and control to keep themselves under wraps in the presence of powerful creatures. Not this one, it seemed. Still, her assumption as to the extent of his 'sins' amused him a bit.
'I don't exactly keep a kill count. Mostly because it would be too much of a bother to find out,' the bat said, voice still neutral. 'I'll say that I've mostly left beings alone, save a few towns and revenge cases, and some property damage. I have killed quite a lot of creatures though, and laughed about it. I think you must be able to relate to that.' He made a very subtle smirk and passed the gryphon a glance. 'I'm not sure whether if you are to call me a murderer or an adventurer for that. And really, you can divide between the moral and the practical aspects of it all. I am an arms dealer though, if you frown on such things. And a bounty hunter.'
...Deirdre:
In spite of the hypocrisy behind the situation and her former profession, Deirdre looked rather affronted when Stygian had hinted at the idea of her laughing at some of her former "assignments." Deep down, she actually was offended. The ethics behind being an Adventurer were flimsy enough, especially when some jobs required for her to actually eliminate her foe, and the last thing she wanted was to be grouped in with the barbarians she had dealt with.
"You know, I'm actually not like those braindead neanderthals who hack and slashed their way through the Adventuring academy just because they wanted to make something bleed," Deirdre said with a steely amount of flatness to her voice, "The world may be filled with morons, but I'm not one of them." There was a strange amount of finality to her tone, as though she was utterly confident with where she stood. "I've dealt with enough idiots as it is."
Deirdre extended a taloned finger. "Second, I don't care if you're an arms dealer. I'm not that much of a tightass. I'm surprised you would have that much business though..." True, technology wasn't exactly ample on Furrae, as far as Deirdre knew. Some variations of Creatures she had encountered tended to shun technology in general. That couldn't be accounted for the entire population of Creatures, but she supposed Beings composed the majority of this bat's customers. "As for the bounty hunter... hell, that's not much different from being an Adventurer, I guess, but I--I didn't start adventuring for money or for attention or anything ridiculous or absurd like that. Especially not for bloodlust. The Adventuring business has become watered down with asses like that. I didn't kill anyone for the hell of it."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Perhaps to Deirdre's surprise, Stygian stopped smirking and just nodded. 'Good. Then you probably understand why I started making guns. Not just because it's something I do well, or just for economic interests, but rather because in this world, beings need guns. Among other things.' He looked at her seriously. 'And I've never killed anyone for the hell of it either. Though, as for bloodlust...'
Realizing that he wouldn't really get anything across, and thinking he'd made at least a small point, the bat sat back again, and folded his hands across his chest, letting Mel tend to the gryphon. 'I think we should take a break, before we all have a talk,' he said to no one in particular. 'There are some things we definitely need to go through. Oh, and by the by,' he continued, and turned to Deirdre again. 'No attacking anyone in our group. Well, not without knowing you can get away with it, anyway, which you won't.' He grinned. 'We already have one demon huntress with us, and she knows to stay in line.'
Dierdre's sword sitting across his lap, Cog was lost in thought, his gaze somewhere outside in the passing scenery. They hadn't gotten too far-off yet, and the outside of the traincar was mostly what you'd see on the early outskirts of a city. A few buildings, a lot of scraggly trees and sparse growth, and hovering ominously behind them the reddish scar in Haszal's sky.
The wolf blinked. People were speaking in the next room - he supposed that the Gryphon had awoken at last. He spared a glance at the sword resting on his legs, the well-crafted and highly enchanted piece of metal, and holding it gingerly in his left hand he stood and walked to the next room.
He walked in the car shortly after Stygian said something about a demon huntress, and his mind drifting towards the yellow Cubi in the room he stood off to the side a bit, maneuvering around the others to an out-of-the-way spot.
He wasn't quite sure where to set the gryphon's sword, and simply contented himself to wait for an opportune moment to ask.
...Deirdre:
Indeed, the Gryphon was quite surprised at Stygian's next remark, not to mention his change in demeanor, although she found herself struggling between deciding to be repulsed or stunned at his comment about bloodlust. Normally she would try to be more flexible in terms of examining situations from others' perspectives, but Deirdre wasn't in a philosophical or thoughtful mood. However, she understood what he meant about Beings needing guns--it made sense to her. Creatures viewed Beings as cattle, apparatuses for their convenience. That was why the Adventuring business was established.
This brief understanding didn't change the problem at hand, though. She was still in the company of unscrupulous characters, and now she was being expected to just sit idly while Keaton frolicked--freely--about their group, killing and doing as she pleased--the idea disgusted her.
But there wasn't much she could do. She had nowhere else to go, and her car was destroyed. What was there to do? She probably could just leave when they reached Jann's Cliff, but... for now she had to acquiesce to their guidelines. Deirdre schooled her features into a somewhat dry, yet otherwise neutral mask. "Fine. I still think you associating with her is a big mistake," she said, but said nothing else regarding that subject, "But I'll do what you want for now. Assuming you have taken my sword, I guess you'll be keeping it until I cooperate?"
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Surprised, Stygian raised his eyebrows and looked back over at Deirdre yet again. 'What? No. I just didn't stop to take that one. It should be with... I don't know. Someone. We had it with us, I am sure.' He didn't want to say that last it had been Keaton who had handled it. 'I could ask, if you don't want to do that on your own.'
- -
'Well, they were here,' Ace said, walking back from the booth and back to the middle of the floor of the station hall, to the waiting otter and jackal. 'They are on a train running for Jann's Cliff. Full-length tickets. And if I'm right, they'll go as far as they can.' She passed Laertes a serious look. 'I think we ought to follow their example, the way things look.'
Cog coughed, taking a step forward. He'd picked a good time to enter the room, apparently. He maneuvered himself so that Dierdre could see him easily, and giving her a slight wave held the sword in his left hand up high, clearly visible to the recovering gryphon. He put it down quickly, setting it in a chair positioned behind him.
"Whenever you need it." he said, giving the avian a slight bow. "A very fine and interesting blade. You must have been a very good or very rich adventurer for such." Cog smiled.
He paused. Looking outside the windows suddenly, he leaned against the wall of the train, feeling the tracks hum underneath them. He looked at the bat, his eyes obscured by his shades.
"What now, Stygian?"
* * *
The Jackal slowed from a jog to a walk, and finally stopped next to Ace, only just a bit out of breath. The train station was some distance away, and after that fight with the creature, he wasn't feeling in top form anyway. He stood there with his arms hanging at his sides for a moment, glancing at Ace, and then staring up at the board proclaiming the trains and various times of departure.
The next train to Jann's Cliff was in a few hours. The Jackal scowled, and scanned the board again - if he could just remember...
Auraze, fishing and trade town of no great importance, save the favorable drift of oceanic currents that brought cold-water crab there in droves almost every year, was only fifty miles from Jann's Cliff. And the train heading there left in only ten mintues. Laertes reached into a pouch at his side, producing two large bills of Haszal currency.
"Three for Auraze." he said, handing the bills to Carey, the otter standing behind the both of them. A connecting train and a cab would be the next steps. It would be a little while yet, but...
Laertes smiled, showing just a bit of teeth, and proceeded to wait for his train.
Like Aisha, Gareeku had heard the scream, and had seen the others seemingly wondering where the bat had taken the gryphon. Narrowing his eyes as he looked off into the direction where the scream had come from for a moment, the wolf then turned back to Aisha when she spoke of keeping out of trouble.
"Agreed." Gareeku replied, before following her back towards the food car.
With the healing finished Mel stepped away. She didn't bother arguing with the gryphon. It was her experience that adventurers had a big blind spot regarding their own activities. Their kills were justifiable executions but creatures couldn't even defend themselves without being labeled as rabid killers. It was an odd sort of self delusion but the dragon supposed that it helped them sleep at night. She settled herself on the opposing seat and pretended to watch the city disappear behind them.
The last buildings blurred by the train, as its acceleration slowly began to come to an end. The tracks were only a minor humming element now, as the speed and weight of the suspended carriages made it seem as if they were floating along. Lights gave way to moonlit night outside the windows.
For a minute or two, the bat merely sat leaning against the wall and gazing out the window, pondering Cog's question. He responded slowly. 'Now... we stay together and alert. I can't see much option save escaping and taking the fight to somewhere where we can actually win,' he said, hand on one raised knee. 'But there are... certain things that I will have to find out. Because, truth to tell, I don't know too much of the situation as it is. And I must speak to some people about things first. Things that I'm not sure I can tell everyone at once.' He sighed, then shook his head slowly. 'In the meantime, I think that we should gather strength. Jann's Cliff is a good place both as a traveling crossroads and as a contact point. We'll take a day there, and see what we can find, and then we press on. I know someone who will be glad to help us.' Or something... he mentally added to that.
There was half a minute's pause after that, as the bat leaned his head back, before he sniffed and his nostrils flared. The scent had grown gradually, but he hadn't really noticed it while thinking. Recognizing it instantly, Stygian looked down at his claws, and then over at Deirdre. The side of her jacket and shirt was ripped.
'You've got blood on you,' he stated, sitting up and moving over. 'I think I cut you. Sorry for that.' He reached out, and pulled the gryphon's jacket aside, inspecting the white shirt underneath.
...Deirdre:
The healing was concluded with a disintegrating fluctuation of fading white light, leaving behind a soft and soothing balm which bathed the center of Deirdre's once-abused and bruised brain. Deirdre tested her newly-repaired head by inclining it to the side, realizing with pleasure that her headache had been entirely banished. Much to her surprise, shortly after she had brought up the location of her confiscated sword, Cogidubnus entered the cabin and presented it to her. Quite to Deirdre's relief, it was still sheathed in its scabbard and safe, despite Stygian's ambiguous explanation about its whereabouts.
A little taken aback by the polite mannerisms of the silver wolf, Deirdre accepted the sword and unsheathed a portion of the sword's blade from the confines of its scabbard. She had no intention of attacking anyone with it; she just wanted to examine its blade. Sure enough, it was in good condition, and, satisfied, she re-sheathed it and nodded affirmatively to Cogidubnus. "Thank you," she said, then turned her gaze back to Stygian, who was staring pensively out the window.
Then he noticed that she was bleeding. Deirdre blinked, staring down at the blood oozing from the lacerations in her chest. She hadn't realized--she had felt pain, when Stygian had accidentally scratched her, but she had no idea she was bleeding. The cuts were not serious, most likely. When Stygian approached her and started to peel back her jacket, she resisted, however--not violently, but spoke up with a strange amount of fierceness in her tone. "Wait, there's still something I have to tell yo--"
Too late. When the jacket was pulled back it exposed the white shirt torn beneath, the cuts in the fabric slightly marred with blood. It was hard to tell, but there were some traces of shredded bandage underneath her shirt--bandage wihch had been used to bind Deirdre's chest and keep it as flat as possible.
The Gryphon's face was slightly pink with blush beneath her ginger-hued feathers. Firmly, she nudged away slightly, shielding the cuts with her hand. "....Now you know," she muttered reluctantly, embarrassment in her voice. "Yeah. Might as well get this out into the open. I'm female."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Stygian blinked, looked slightly up at the rumpled part of the gryphon's shirt, a tiny hint of a bulge that even the bat himself had because of his pectoral muscles, but which in Deirdre's case now proved to be something entirely different. Then he raised his eyes, and seemed to look closely at her features, nearing her face. He sniffed once, twice, and slowly drew back his hand. Then he grinned, baring sharp teeth. 'Well. If that's not a pleasant surprise...' he said, and barked a gravelly laugh.
It soon became easier to walk on the moving train; the bodies of those who were sitting had gotten more used to the speed than those who were standing. But at once the large transport had moved out of that wobbly acceleration, and to a steady pace. Outside, the dark sky gave way to a more natural black-blue hue, with the moon clear out of the window and giving the illusion of keeping pace with the steady passengers.
Finally a peaceful sight, Aisha thought, smiling in appreciation as she caught sight of the bright celestial orb through a window. They reached the dining car without further delay, not even catching the sounds of anyone else behind. The interior of the car was just as impressive as any of the cabins, if not more so. Like a formal 19th-century restaurant, built lengthwise and stretching across from them in a long corridor with enough space to walk through without feeling too cramped. Seats lined the windows, four or two to a table made of lacquered wood and draped with ornate tablecloths and soft lights set above them. Equally decorated were the comfortably-padded seats, some of which were more like booths than tables. There were a few people already enjoying the food at some locations--the place wasn't that crowded--and the succulent smell of different meats and things drifted from somewhere far past them in a kitchen portion.
The waiters tending to the passengers, well-dressed and formal, made Aisha wonder if perhaps the exhausted-looking adventurers would even be allowed in the car...though Gareeku still had his suit from the club on, And the panther her adventuring attire, bar weapons. But the quick notion was put to rest when one waitress, a demure maned wolf, bowed to the new customers and allowed them in to choose a table.
"I wonder if the others will be joining us or going to bed right away," Aisha commented with a chuckle, smiling to Gareeku as she loosened her cape, placing it next to her while she sat down and poked through one of the menus that were set in front of them. "I wouldn't really blame them if they did."
Nor would I mind if they did, she added silently.
Kerya looked up as Keaton entered the cabin. She'd just opened her mouth for a polite greeting, when the jackal's dress... flowed away was the only description she could think of. Before she could blink the jackal's clothes had changed into something completely different. And the little stoat still couldn't detect any kind of illusion being used.
"Ah... Keaton, is it?" she said after a moment of collecting her wits. She nodded out of the window. "We seem to have escaped clean away, although I think I can see a fire in the middle of the city somewhere behind us."
...Keaton:At first oblivious to Kerya's stunned glance to her metamorphosis, Keaton cheerfully stretched her arms outward and individually flexed her muscles, feeling rather grateful to be back in apparel she felt comfortable with. Only when the stoat spoke up did she realize her presence. Keaton's ears pivoted upright and she glanced to the smaller creature, blinking. This was the newcomer, right? She had never met her before, but she seemed to have happened upon them by chance alone. No more, no less. Quite unfortunate. Keaton supposed that she owed her some relative effort at politeness.
"Hm?" Keaton canted her head, then stared outside the window. Outside, she could barely make out the distant, foggy silhouette of a cloud of smoke mushrooming from the besieged city. Damn, there
was a fire going on. She wondered, morbidly, how fast the rate of destruction was spreading through the city, and how many casualties and survivors there were going to be. Were any authorities going to get involved, so to isolate the devastation? Surely Hazsal wouldn't go unnoticed...
"Yeah, we have," Keaton said in acknowledgment to Kerya's remark. "Lucky us, huh?"
---
...Deirdre:Although Deirdre had braced herself for the bat's reaction by considering every possible response to her cross-dressing ever conceived, from outrage to indifference to mockery to sheer disgust to understanding, she found her expression shifting from embarrassment to--even deeper embarrassment, laced with befuddlement, after witnessing Stygian's reply, regardless of preparation. The sniffing, at first, she attributed to something meant to provoke her. Belligerent, yes, but Deirdre seemed to expect the worst from him. The laugh, however, completely disarmed her.
Ears flattening, Deirdre's membrane-glazed eyes stared awkwardly away from Stygian, narrowing in a viciously dangerous way which was reflected through the tension of her hands on the scabbard of her sword. What was the bat laughing about? She hadn't taken him for a lecherous character. Instead he just seemed genuinely amused. Despite what he was possibly amused about, Deirdre unconsciously brandished the talons on her hands, looking indignant.
"I'm sure this is
all very amusing," she said, throwing her virulent glare about the room's occupants. While she didn't give a damn about what people thought of her, she still didn't appreciate what she perceived as heckling. "But may you all at least hold off any remarks about me being a dyke or asking which bathroom I go to until I get these cuts patched up? They're rather" - snarled through her beak - "
uncomfortable."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The sudden revelation that, despite the masculine clothing, bits of facial hair, and otherwise completely androgynous figure, Dierdre was in fact a woman made Cog's eyebrow raise. Just fractionally. He paused for a moment, not quite certain what to say.
At her next words, however, spoken with such verve and acidity that the wolf almost had to take a step back, Cog's other eyebrow rose to join its brother. He tilted his head at the gryphon for a moment, appraising, and then grinned, showing a mouthful of fangs. The wolf shook his head, laughing softly, and then tipped his hat to the lady.
"Please. The right sort of skirt, on occasion, can be quite refreshing."
Putting his hat deftly back on his head, the wolf gave a shallow bow and walked out of the room and out into the main hall, intent on finding the dining car and a good cup of coffee, and then sleep.
Mel, who had been startled out of staring at the scenery by the commotion on the opposite seat, blushed a little. Just because she had been a bit out of sorts at the moralizing of an adventurer was no good reason for sloppy magic. She stood and bowed quite formally to the gryphon. "Please pardon my less than complete job of healing you. If you still have faith in my ability I would finish what I started."
'It's just the scrapes left,' Stygian said, inspecting his claws. Sitting back, he licked the black crescents with an erroneously long, tapered tongue. The taste soothed the tension that had come over him at the scent of blood a little. 'And I never saw a claw scar that wasn't beautiful.'
The bat took a short pause, putting his back to the wall, before he directed a look toward the gryphon again. Of course, it was hard to see, due to his eyes. 'I didn't catch your name,' he said. 'Feel free to add any titles, if you wish.'
...Deirdre:
In spite of her previous apprehension, Deirdre was quite pleased--and stunned--to witness the collective reactions of the others assembled in the cabin. Cogidubnus had been relatively indifferent, and Mel was more concerned about any sloppiness in her healing magic, something Deirdre was highly grateful for. Where she had expected ridicule, apparently that was not her newfound traveling companions' intentions. Rather reluctantly, Deirdre peeled the lapels of her jacket off to the side so her cuts were exposed for Mel's convenience, allowing the dragon to work her healing spells over them. In short order each individual cut was closed, although blood still dappled the white fabric of Deirdre's shirt. She'd need to replace it.
Sighing, Deirdre shook her head, then tugged her jacket closer to herself after nodding her thanks to Mel. At hearing Stygian's remark about beautiful scars and seeing him lap the blood away from his wicked claws, her face seemed to fall flat again, although not in a particularly vehement way. Instead, she just glanced down self-consciously at her body, then said, as she redirected her gaze back up, "You must've seen the lucky ones, then." Stygian asked her about her name. Ears drooping, Deirdre sighed again, in resignation. "I guess it wouldn't hurt... my name's Deirdre." There was some bitterness to her voice in the next statement, "I also go by the name of Miss D, Deedee, and several homophobic slurs, because people seem to be particularly fond of that last category."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
As the train ceased it's acceleration, the wolf found it easier to walk as he followed Aisha down the train towards the food car. Looking out of the window, he too noticed the sky outside, and the bright moon that came with it.
Reaching the dining car, Gareeku looked around and grimaced slightly.
"Great." the wolf muttered in a light growl as he observed the clothes and mannerisms of the people already in the restaurant. "Aristocracy."
It was safe to say that he had no time for the more affluent people of the world, mainly because of the he expriences he had had whenever he had come across them. "Let's just find a table."
As if right on cue, a waitress approached and guided them to a table. Sitting down, Gareeku listened to what Aisha said and shrugged his shoulders.
"It's up to them." he replied. "Personally I need a break."
As Aisha picked through the menu, periodically being indecisive about what she felt like eating, she perked her ears upon hearing Gareeku's rough voice. Listening to his reply to her statement, she laughed softly. "Trust me, you don't know how true that rings, especially for me..."
Settling on an item, she set her menu down and waited for the waitress to arrive. While doing so, she glimpsed about the restaurant's surroundings. While things looked somewhat proper, the presence of some people who were dressed even less formal then they were showed that the dining car went for an air of quiet and comfort, rather than any kind of higher status. The prices were also reasonable...a good thing, as Aisha was never too comfortable in that kind of setting.
Her gaze had ended at the window, and then set back to Gareeku again, who seemed somewhat uncomfortable himself. There was a pause, before the panther leaned an arm across the table and rested her hand over his own. "I think that rings true for everyone else, too. But at least we're safely away from the town and the chaos, and well on our way to figuring things out." She smiled. "We'll have our break, if I have anything to say about it."
That was when the waitress returned, asking them if they had chosen anything. Aisha nodded. "The steak for me, please."
The last comment made by the gryphon caused Stygian's one eyebrow to twitch. 'Oh. Charming,' he said, not expressing particularly much more on that topic. He hadn't been sure from the start on that one point. Not that it was something that mattered much, but the bird being a drag king suggested she were homosexual in the first place. However, it did not make it certain. It was fairly amusing, but not interesting or outstanding enough to discuss at this point. Well, not interesting or outstanding enough to Stygian, that was. When it came to that sort of thing, trying to get disapproval out of him was as likely to happen as making a stone dance Flamenco by asking it nicely. He had a very clear definition of the things that he wanted to, or thought he had the right to criticize, and women merely dressing up as men and hitting on other women was not one of them.
'Well, in that case, pleased to make your acquaintance, you aberrant slut,' the bat said, and stretched out his hand. 'My name is Ignatz Donovan, royal Asshole and Despicable Monster. Or so they call me.'
...Deirdre:
Even further disarming Deirdre from further defensive commentary was Stygian's next statement, leaving her only capable of lifting her eyebrow and staring with a great amount of skepticism at the proffered hand. At least these folks weren't going to heckle her; that was a decent start. Perhaps this acquaintanceship would be tolerable after all, even when Deirdre was going to be forced to be sociable with Keaton. This was something particularly unthinkable, considering her abhorrent tendencies and their past history.
Personally, Deirdre didn't mind being called an "aberrant slut." At least it was (what she assumed to be) sarcasm, not to mention it was more creative than the insults she had heard in her life. Rolling her eyes, Deirdre grasped the hand extended and shook it, trying to ease her body out of hesitance.
"Charmed, Mr. Donovan," Deirdre stated dryly, brushing some errant strands of hair out from her eyes. As time had passed, her hair had become rather disarrayed, somehow granting her more tomboyish femininity than her clean appearance did before.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya sighed and nodded her head, ears and whiskers drooping, still staring pensively out of the window for a moment before replying to Keaton. "I hate having to run like this, with our tails between our legs, but that — whatever — back there is just too powerful. Even if I were at my full strength, and able to use my full range of spells, I think I would be swatted like a newborn cub by that thing's least effort. Did you find out what it is? I thought I saw you in the club, going into the back rooms with Sebastian, then the next I saw you were fighting that bird-thing outside in the street."
The steak, when served, was supple and juicy. The wine was rather good. And outside, the night and passing landscape were dark and cold, but the lamps and atmosphere inside were warm and comfortable. The only thing that perhaps Gareeku could complain about was the critical look the waitress had given him and Aisha for their disheveled appearance at first. Yet that had not returned. It was hard to think that things were going too smoothly at the time, really, as they were on the move, and the moment of relaxation and non-hostility was so fitting.
- -
As much as she was intriguing in herself, and as fun as he thought it was to speak to the more intelligent sort of adventurer, Stygian could find no more reason to linger and speak to Deirdre. They had tended to the gryphon and explained the situation to her. Now he wanted to see to their own business. And perhaps gain some more information on the adventuress at the same time. Not to mention that there were others he had not spoken to yet as well.
As if to answer that last thought, the bat heard Kerya in the cabin next to theirs, speaking to Keaton. There was some background noise coming from the wheels and tracks below, but Stygian's hearing was likely the best in the group by far, and he could hear most of what they were saying. So he rose and excused himself, stepping out and over to the entry to the other cabin. He rapped the door with his knuckles twice, before sliding it aside.
'It was an old acquaintance of mine. And I'm sure we'll hear more from her,' the bat responded to Kerya's query before Keaton had a chance to. 'We're only running for the moment, because we don't have a grip on the situation.' He walked in and sat down.
For a few moments, Stygian merely looked at the little stoat, not gravely but not without some seriousness either. There was a curious hint of a smile to his features, but only just enough to soften them up. His black eyes though remained as hard and bottomless as ever.
'I will apologize to you as well for dragging you along with us like this,' he said, after a short while. 'There just seemed like little else to do.'
Cogidubnus slid into the dining car softly, and slid into the first booth in the car. It was situated in the corner of the compact, long dining-room, and although the space was limited, the large windows along the sides made the atmosphere feel large and open indeed. At night, away from the city of Haszal, the stars above were clear and cold, as was the waxing moon, pale in the dark sky. The leather seats underneath the wolf were icy, and a feeling of frost emanated from the pane glass windows beside him.
He held a hand up to feel the cold radiate from them when a voice interrupted. The wolf turned, setting his hat on the table and looking up at a very plainly-dressed mouse girl waitress. She had the smile of someone who had been on-shift too long, but wasn't feeling grumpy for it.
"Coffee, please." the wolf replied, and nodded his head. The waitress scribbled for just a moment on her pad, and promised she'd be right back before she ran off to take care of something else.
Cog turned his gaze back to the outside, and the almost crystal quality of the air outside the city. Something the wolf had always loved was the feeling and the sheer beauty of the night sky - something that had almost been robbed of him once, but despite the horror he'd once felt at the looming gaze of a full moon, he'd never lost his love for a cold, distant wind under a dark sky. The wolf took off his shades, setting them on top of his hat, and shutting his eyes for a moment to let them adjust to the sudden brightness looked back out at the darkness undimmed. He leaned into his palm, resting his chin, and suddenly grinned. The train rolled by a lake, of some sort, and in the almost icy-clear water the waves reflected the night sky. He reached out to touch the window.
"One coffee!" the waitress said, making Cog jump. "Is that all for tonight? Can I get you something to eat, maybe a dessert?"
"No, thank you." Cog said, looking away from the window and up at the mouse. "I'm fine."
"Well, holler if you need something." the waitress said, and strode away briskly. Cog sat still for a few moments, his eyes not-quite looking at anything before picking up the steaming cup of coffee in front of him.
He took a sip, and steam curled around the wolf's head.
Richard kept his eyes open as Stygian left the room. It hadn't sounded like anything bad had happened, and at least now he knew the newcomers name and actual gender. Really, other people's business was the only kind worth minding. It was fun, useful, and at times extremely relaxing. He leaned around the door frame to check on Deirdre for himself.
"Hey. You doing alright then?"
Kerya looked up as Sebastian entered the cabin. "There is no need to apologise, Sebastian," she replied with a smile, "coming along to help is the least I could do after you helped me with the rabbit who attacked me back in Haszal. Besides, I hardly think I would be safer back there, even if we had never met."
Her ears perked up as a thought occurred to her. "I just remembered — Sebastian, that rabbit, what was she? I have seen it is not unusual for people here to have wings, but I have never known... wait, let me show you."
With a few efficient gestures, the little stoat created an illusion in the middle of the table: a half-sized image of a white rabbit, blonde haired and wearing a businesslike red blouse and black skirt, sitting on a chair. Another gesture, and the illusion cycled through three different views of the rabbit. The first leaned forward, reaching out with one hand, her eyes glowing and a predatory grin on her face. The second sat frozen, her back arched in mid-convulsion, both hands clawing at her throat where something invisible throttled her with considerable force. Her eyes were wide and bulging, and her tongue had turned an unhealthy shade of blue. Just above and behind her ears, a pair of small wings stuck out of her hair, batlike and buttery yellow in colour. The third rabbit slouched low in her chair, arms hanging at her side and a look of utter horror and despair on her face. Her ears, and the wings that still stuck out of her head, drooped limply.
"There, that is what she looked like," Kerya said with satisfaction as she looked from Sebastian to Keaton. "Her name was Rhuddion Crys of Caerbannog, or at least that was the name she gave me. She is certainly no ordinary rabbit, but is she a monster of some kind? I could not sense if she was wearing an illusion, though. And am I likely to be attacked again if I were to meet another with wings on her head like this?"
Stygian sat back opposite to the mustelid, crossed one leg over the other and folded his fingers together, looking at her seriously over them. He seemed not so much the professor about to give a lecture as a professional about to divulge something confidential to the uninitiated.
'She was a succubus. That's the female form of the specific race that we commonly call 'Cubi'. I'll take it that if you ask such a question, you are not aware of some basic distinctions that we treat as self-evident,' he said, almost peering under his brows at Kerya. 'There are Beings and Creatures in this world. Beings are ones that do not possess any inherent magical or otherwise extraordinary abilities, as part of their genetic heritage. Creatures, however, do. There are many categories; Angels, Demons, Mythos... Cubi are just one of the most unpleasant and long-lived types.' He smirked, and then directed his eyes toward Keaton after that comment, giving her a look that suggested he was most pleased with himself. She was aware of his opinion on Cubi long since, but still it had never managed to settle with her entirely, something he found amusing. What was more, the whole truth of things and his past exploits and history, all of which she were unaware of, made it even more amusing. If only the jackal knew what experience he was speaking out of...
'They are not all bad, of course,' Stygian continued, looking down a bit before raising his obsidian eyes to meet the stoat's again. 'In fact, quite a few are peaceful. They feed on emotions, and they have the ability to shapeshift to varying but extensive degrees, why they can adjust to pretty much any society or social situation. This makes it easy for them to blend in, and live as any other. However,' he proceeded, emphasizing markedly, 'they possess considerable magical power, and the inherent ability for thought-reading. They are also, as a racial trait resulting from their abilities, emotional and temperamental, power-hungry, disrespectful and capricious.' He ended this statement with a heavy, serious tone, seemingly adding weight to the statement that it were a fact.
The healing of Deidre's scratches complete Mel resumed her window seat. She listened to the odd introductions quietly then watched Ignatz leave. If she had been willing to guess about anything the bat was up to she would guess that he was checking on the others. Silence having fallen she made a seated half bow, "I am Mel." At that point Richard poked his head into the cabin to inquire into the gryphon's health and if she had been about to add anything the moment was now lost.
...Keaton:One would have feared that Keaton would be offended by Stygian's almost caustic summarization of the Cubi race, particularly his emphasis on the less than admirable characteristics her race was renowned for. On the contrary, Keaton's expression reflected nothing more than analytical amusement, especially as her eyes rested on the illusory caricature of the rabbit Succubus that had menaced Kerya earlier. Hilariously (or at least in Keaton's mind) enough, if Kerya were actually a resident of this world an impromptu attack from a Cubi wouldn't have been considered remarkable in a jaded Adventurer's eyes.
Stygian's opaque-obsidian oculars drifted her way once or twice, if only to confirm the mostly humored look on Keaton's face, or to display his pleasure. Keaton rolled her eyes at this. She was well aware of Stygian's perspective on Cubi, and it no longer bothered her. After all, it was no different from her distinct loathing of Angels, although in her mind she had a perfectly justified reason behind her prejudice. As Stygian concluded his explanation, Keaton couldn't help herself--she clapped her hands together a few times, as though applauding Stygian's presentation, albeit with prolonged slowness.
"Bravo," she said cheerfully, "But you seem to keep thinking that those last qualities guarantee a
bad thing."
Keaton inclined her head in Kerya's direction, gazing down at the stoat. "But it is true. Cubi are all of those things. They are emotion-eaters, temperamental and short-fused sunsabitches. The grand majority of them are jerks, through and through, and are quite proud of it," Keaton recited all of those off with the flamboyancy and expertise of a master poet, not even flinching at how she was lambasting her own race. Pausing, she lolled her head back upright, then tapped her fingers to her temple, a smirk coloring her muzzle. "And while we're discussing Cubi at the moment, I guess I might as well throw a skeleton out of my closet for the sake of it."
A bit of concentration and Keaton felt the magically-composed shield restricting her head-wings splinter as it was breached by an invisible force, its imperceptible folds peeling back to herald the emergence of the two, leathery bat-wings from her scalp; the diminutive duplicates of their back-wing brethren. Individually, Keaton stretched each one to their full spans, cream-colored membrane pulling taut within their structures before she leisurely folded the head-wings into a more comfortable position.
"You see," Keaton said loftily, "I'm a Succubus too."
That look of smug satisfaction on her features, Keaton reconstructed the magical shield once more, each particle and iota of her head-wings beginning to fade and vanish altogether as they were encompassed and returned to their masquerading form. At first their sketchy outlines remained as the color drained in molecules, dissipating into nothingness, but then in almost an eyeblink that imperceptible mirage disintegrated with the remainder of any trace of her head-wings. There was no actual point to revealing her heritage so soon other than to toy with Kerya's reaction, but Keaton had reasoned that there was equally no point in being secretive about something she harbored no shame about. Besides, it was already painfully obvious she was a Succubus due to her previous exhibition of shapeshifting before...
Jovially, Keaton clasped her hands together, then looked to Kerya once more. "Any questions?"
--
...Deirdre:On the other side of the door, Deirdre had taken advantage of the bat's departure to stand upright and assess her bedraggled and slightly bloodstained appearance, particularly the lacerations in her jacket, shirt, and bandages. She rested her sword on the seat behind her as Mel introduced herself respectfully. In response, Deirdre offered a small smile, trying to be relatively polite.
"Deirdre," she noted her name in response. "Nice to meet you, Mel." Okay, well, the circumstances behind their meeting considered, that was a bit of a lie. Couldn't hurt to be polite, however.
Scowling a little, the Gryphon fidgeted with her apparel slightly, attempting to find a momentary repair which could effectively conceal her slightly-exposed femininity, only for her efforts to be interrupted by the arrival of Richard.
At first Deirdre exhibited nothing but apprehension, but when she realized it was the Undead simian she had assisted prior to her incapacitation, she couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. Good, it wasn't Keaton or any unwelcome guests. Deirdre wasn't too familiar with the Undead fellow, but he was at least one of the ones who was grateful for the fact her car had been used as a getaway vehicle. Not to mention he had helped her to her feet after Keaton had belted her... that was something Deirdre wanted retribution for, but alas. Such vengeance would not occur yet. Besides, it was a visceral desire, something repentantly barbaric.
"Eh? Oh yeah, I'm doing alright," Deirdre said with a sheepish grin. "All things considered."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Watching Dierdre try to fidget clothing no longer fit to be anything but dust rags into something she could wear in public Mel felt a flash of sympathy. Being more than a bit of a clothes horse a lack of appropriate clothing was something she could understand, and something she could cure. Reaching into the small purse on her belt she somehow pulled out the red camisole and pinstripe suit she had worn the night before when she had met up with the group at the Dragon's Grin. "While this is not exactly what you would choose for yourself you might find it preferable to what you currently have on." With that the disguised dragon held out the pile of fabric to the gryphon.
Kerya listened intently to the information Sebastian revealed. She nodded in acknowledgement, ears twitching as she considered her reply. Keaton's slow handclap and sardonic comments drew her attention before she could say anything, and the jackal's revelation of her own headwings left a stunned expression on the little stoat's face for just a moment before she visibly fought to bring her emotions under control. She took a deep breath, then let it hiss out slowly between tightly clenched fangs.
"My thanks, both of you," she replied, "that is useful to know. You may have guessed already, I am... not from around here. I found myself in Haszal by accident several days ago, and for the moment I am unable to return home. My magic works somewhat differently than the kind people use here. Some of my spells work, some do not, and some have... unfortunate consequences if I attempt them. I needed to talk to a local mage, perhaps trade information if I had to, and find out how to adapt my spells so that I could use them safely. But that —" she nodded at the third illusion-rabbit, staring despondently at a point over Keaton's shoulder, "was the first I met. I think that was part of what she wanted from me. She had discovered, from reading my thoughts I must assume now, that certain of my spells would be extremely valuable to her. She... spoke in my head — a most unnerving experience — and demanded the secrets of how my magic operated."
Kerya turned her gaze directly on the bat, then the jackal, an expression of grim resolve on her face. "I was taken unawares, I admit it. Even the most powerful Four Rings adept may be caught in such a way. Once. If there is a defence against this... "thought-reading", and I can learn it, there will not be a second time."
She gestured at the illusion, and the cycling stopped, showing the second rabbit gasping for breath as she was throttled. "I must thank you again for intervening when you did, Sebastian. I was very angry and in some haste when I did this; the spell is an assassin's weapon, which I do not like to use. But when needs must..." She crooked a finger, and the invisible something around the rabbit's throat abruptly shrank, squeezing even tighter.
Crunch.
Pop.
The rabbit's head leaped from her shoulders like a cork from a bottle, sailing across the cabin, headwings fluttering, trailing a spray of illusory blood. Just before the head would have landed in Keaton's lap, the entire illusion faded and vanished. "When needs must, I will." Kerya said with a steely glint in her eyes.
The bat gave an almost irritated little look to Keaton. Not for her first comments; those he had expected, but rather upon her somewhat careless and abrupt revealing of her heritage. His thoughts on appropriate manner that followed were interrupted by Kerya's reply though. He tilted his head, and looked pensively at the little mustelid, as she explained herself and then demonstrated what she had been about in the club. And, Stygian noted, also making a clear point, practically stating that 'if you threaten me, this is what I'll do'. Of course it was only good manner that he regard this and respond properly.
'Yes, well... Not everything is solved best by such means, and indeed not all Cubi or creatures are hostile,' Stygian said, his tone leveling out to neutral and careful. 'And there are far worse things out there than Cubi. Things like myself, for instance.' He gave Kerya just a hint of a smile. 'Really, it's always best to be attentive and careful.' There. He didn't need to threaten her or give her any sort of information, but merely suggesting things often went a long way. Hopefully the stoat would see, and look at things critically. And keep her cute little butt out of tight spots and in shape, he mentally added.
Mostly satisfied, the bat leaned back once again. 'Anyhow, the only way is to adapt. I think you'll catch up on things quickly enough. Though, if you want protection from certain things,' he said, and gave Keaton another look, before turning his dark eyes to Kerya once more, 'I would suggest you speak to Mel. I take a... different approach to that sort of protection. One that is not easily imitated.'
"Good to know, I didn't take being shanghaied by these maniacs anywhere near so well." Richard snickered, "It's far beyond good to have another sane person around here, Deirdre." It occurred to the undead that she'd never told him her name herself. "Sorry about that, couldn't help hearing a few things," He lied.
...Keaton:The look on Keaton's face was rather unreadable as Kerya demonstrated what she would do if someone threatened her. Specifically, using some sort of magical application of pressure, she had decapitated the magical doppelganger of her assailant by making its head pop like a balloon, sending its cranium sailing through the air. Just seconds before it was about to land in her lap, the illusion's head disintegrated. Keaton stared for a long time at where the head had vanished, her ears flat and her expression still locked in that suspension of disbelief.
Well, now that was one way to shut her up. The little stoat had a lot of spunk in her. Keaton could admire that.
Then, against the awkwardness of the situation, Keaton forced an indifferent grin on her face, one which wasn't entirely sincere. "Point taken," she said, folding her arms. "I'm sure you're pretty damn capable. That's good..." In response to Stygian's dark eyes shifting in her direction again, Keaton returned the stare, her chocolaty irises narrowed in thin brown halos around her pupils. For a moment, she looked offended, defensive. Keaton spoke up, "Hey, don't look at me like that, Styg. I'm not gonna do anything. I'm just breaking the ice is all. I swear. Figured there wasn't much use in hiding away my head-wings if we're discussing Cubi."
---
...Deirdre:Deirdre was more than surprised when Mel unexpectedly produced a brand-new set of clothing for her to wear and offered it, as was evidenced by the look on the Gryphon's face. In-between busily adjusting her shirt and tattered bandaging, she managed to achieve some form of stability to her appearance so she could hesitantly accept the proffered bundle. Upon further inspection, it appeared to be some sort of pinstriped suit, which Deirdre was pleased to notice--she rather appreciated those variations of fashion.
"Hey, thanks," she said, checking to see if the suit was her size. Quite surprisingly, it was, even though Mel was seven inches shorter than her. Deirdre flashed Mel an appreciative grin. "I really needed this."
She turned back to address Richard, then rolled her eyes; the membrane-caked irises rotating in their scarred sockets. Methodically, Deirdre continued to adjust and keep her hairstyle neat and tidy. "Eh. I'll probably end up freaking out a bit later," she said with a flap of her hand. "Especially if there are some less than agreeable folks in this group..." Particularly, she was referring to Keaton, but she decided not to elaborate on that. Better to keep her grudges in the closet, for now. Richard knowing her name came as some surprise to Deirdre, but he then explained that he was eavesdropping on her conversation with Stygian and Mel. "Aha. No worries. I did scream rather loud, huh? Just about the only feminine thing about me."
A pause, then Deirdre sighed. "So, you heard everything?"
~Keaton the Black Jackal
As Aisha looked through the restaurant's menu, Gareeku was looking out of the window, watching the scenery race by as the train continued on its journey. Hearing Aisha speak, the wolf's eyes looked to the panther and, noticing that she seemed more or less decided on what she wanted, thought that he had better start looking through the menu as well.
As Gareeku looked through the variety of meals that the restaurant had to offer, holding the menu with one hand, he then felt something rest on his other hand, which itself was resting on the table. Looking away from the menu, the wolf blinked a few times as he saw that Aisha's hand was upon his. Looking at it for a few seconds, a dull shade of pink began to make itself present on his cheeks, visible beneath the white fur.
"And you sir?"
"...Huh?" Gareeku uttered as he looked up, seeing that the waitress had arrived to take their orders. "Oh...I...uh..."
"Don't worry about it." the waitress replied with a soft giggle. "We get couples all the time."
"We're just friends." the wolf grumbled back. "I'll have the steak as well."
While the waitress came to take their order, and Aisha giving hers, she had almost forgotten that her hand was still resting on Gareeku's. She observed his mannerism, and the blush spreading across his face...though it was barely seen on the void that was her own fur, just a line of black-red, she felt her own face flush with warmth as well. She said nothing to the waitress's comment, but slowly took her hand away while the white wolf ordered, and nodded to their server as she smiled and walked off.
Somehow, food takes forever to come when one waits in near silence. Aisha had also soon set her gaze to the darkness out of the windows, rather easily seen through the softly lit atmosphere of the dining car, only briefly glancing to the door to see who was coming through. Seeing it was Cogidubnus, the silver wolf hardly noticing them, she turned her head back out into the darkness the train passed...through a largely clear sky dotted with stars, and the light from the moon casting an ethereal line of white-gray over dark clouds nearby.
"Beautiful..." she whispered, her face resting on one palm. Though it appeared her concentration was on the scenery, the blush on her face lingered as forcefully as her thoughts. What's gotten into me lately? I don't think I've ever felt so...soft, around him. Was I really that worried when he disappeared? Or...
But soon enough, the smell of the succulent meat and the sound of footsteps brought her back to reality, along with a fierce growl in her stomach, breaking the silence. The maned wolf waitress returned with their plates. Aisha rolled her eyes self-consciously. "Heh, finally. Let's eat."
Still the questions in her mind didn't cease.
After he had ordered his food, Gareeku walked the waitress walk away, before turning to look out the window. Observing the peaceful scene, the wolf watched as the landscape continued to rush past the window, while the moon above shone with a bright light, softly illuminating the edges of the nearby clouds in a soft silver, while stars in the otherwise clear sky twinkled. For a moment, Gareeku's eyes turned to look at Aisha, before turning back to look outside once more.
Turning away from the window, the wolf then looked around the restaurant from where he sat, observing the other customers in the restaurant as they ate and talked with one another. As he so, he thought back to what had happened recently, or to be more precise, how he and Aisha have acted around each other. He had seen her for years, not since what happened that fateful day, and not even 24 hours after he sees her again, they begin to act strange around each other. For years he had put up a cold front to everyone, but somehow she could see right through it. And now, now that the darkness within him had even affected his normal state of mind, she still was this way with him. Why?
These thoughts, however, soon disappeared from his mind when the scent of freshly cooked meat reached his senses. Turning to look around, the wolf saw that the maned wolf waitress had returned, a plate full of food in each of her hands as she walked up to the table, before setting them both down in front of the two warriors and walking off. Wasting no time, Gareeku immediately tucked in.
Chin in his hand, the bat glanced skeptically at the jackal. 'Mmm-hmm. And I'm sure that your fondness for shocking people didn't play in at all,' he commented. He sighed, then turned his head back, and put two fingers to his temple in that way he had for a habit, tapping it. So where to from here? he thought. Obviously things are going as well as one could wish, what with Ash responding to 'treatment' just as I had hoped, yet I hadn't counted on this little thing showing up...
Kerya had provided a demonstration, but they had been the ones to hand out really useful information. Thus Stygian thought it the time to take the conversation elsewhere. 'Of course, don't expect us to help without anything in return. Caritas in omnibus and my will to do Creatures harm aside, it is we who have provided thus far,' he said, and leaned forward once again, almost smirking at the stoat. 'Which brings us to you. You have explained your situation, and I think I know a little of what to expect. But what were your intentions? Feel free to ramble.'
When Deirdre accepted the suit Mel stood. "I am sure you want a quiet moment to put yourself back together. I think I will see how the others are doing. Our second cabin is opposite." With a small nod to the gryphon she slid past the undead standing in the doorway, giving him a look that was all hint as she did. One step had her at the other door. She knocked and asked, "Everyone getting settled in?"
Richard rolled his eyes at Mel's look, it taking a second for him to realize that it was because Deirdre was changing. He was dead; such things weren't exactly still within his realm of interests. However, he didn't want to make Deirdre uncomfortable (even if he wasn't sure what she meant by unpleasant individuals; wouldn't be the first adventurer to see undead as traitors. The idea that someone had no problem with him never even crossed the dead man's mind). Bah. If she says anything I'll look away.
"Yeah, all of it. Keats did all that, huh. Didn't have her pegged for the-" the undead blinked, "Then again, guess I did have her pegged for the type to do something like that. Kinda shocked she actually did it, though." Assuming you can prove it, but it doesn't seem too far off. "I'm still getting used to that myself. So... Adventuring?" Richard quirked a barely-still-attached eyebrow, "Always figured that was a job that involved more armor, mebbe jeans and a t-shirt, than fancy suits."
...Keaton:Still wearing that smirk on her face, Keaton casually shrugged and lolled her head to the side, peering lopsidedly at Stygian. "It could have, yes," the jackal acknowledged without a noticeable amount of begrudgingness. Walking over to the wall, Keaton leaned against it casually, folding her arms and tilting her ear in Kerya's direction, listening attentively to her testimony. Normally she wouldn't be so interested, but her attention span was petering out, and she needed something for her to latch onto.
---
...Deirdre:Surprisingly, Deirdre seemed unperturbed about Richard's attendance in the room while she changed, although secretly she felt slightly uncomfortable. Ah well, weren't Undead sterile? Meant he wasn't getting sick kicks out of being a voyeur, and he
did have the courtesy of averting his eyes. Mel leaving the room granted her some privacy, so she wasn't entirely offended when she, turning around so her back was facing Richard, removed her jacket, unbuttoned her dress shirt (disconnecting the clasp in the back which allowed her wings some room), and deftly stripped herself of the garments. Underneath, the entirety of Deirdre's chest was bound in thick bandage, keeping her chest almost perfectly flat, and effectively hiding anything that would reveal any awkwardness, save for the cuts cleaving through the durable material of her bandages. Mottled scars of various shapes and sizes tarnished Deirdre's feathered pelt, the most prominent scars diagonally crisscrossing this way and that about her chest, disappearing mid-length beneath the layers of bandages, while another notable scar was a halo of pockmarks carved into her shoulder. Other injuries were quite visible from her front side, but due to the fact she kept her wings spread so she could shield herself, Richard couldn't see most of them.
"Yeah, she did," Deirdre said, picking up the pinstriped suit. There was fortunately a hole in the back, as well as for the crimson undershirt, but putting it on would've been more convenient if she had some sort of patch or charm to conceal her wings. "Cut me up real bad, too, when I was sent to bring her in." Deirdre brushed her fingers over the horizontal scar crossing over her cataract-marred eyes. "Probably one of the worst cases I had ever taken care of."
Suddenly becoming self-conscious that their current line of conversation was going to make Richard uncomfortable, she gladly ducked to his next comment in-between slipping on the silky red undershirt (with some difficulty) and putting on the pinstriped jacket. "I'm not an Adventurer anymore, though," Deirdre shrugged her shoulders as she started buttoning the shirt, and then the jacket. "Retired a month ago, after... well, after I was diagnosed." Tilting her head in Richard's direction, Deirdre smirked at him, then turned around to face him now that her outfit was assembled. "Trust me, I normally choose more conventional outfits for Adventuring. Though I like the fancier suits otherwise."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Aisha wasted no time digging into her steak either, each bite of the meat sating some of the hunger and fatigue settling in her stomach that came from running and from worrying. There were very few times that the warriors could actually settle in and relax, and moving quickly on the spacious train certainly seemed ideal.
But with each bite, enjoying the night and the whispered silence and near-solitude of the dining car, there was still some silence between the wolf and panthress...though there was a lot of noise in her mind. Her eyes sometimes slowly looked up to Gareeku, and then darted back down again to her plate. In her mind the past and recent events kept playing...the fighting, his changes, her worries, the dance...
He must be wondering what's wrong with me.
But he's one of my close friends...he has the right to know. To know why and to know that someone cares.
And he'll think I'm a fool.
And I've already told him that I care enough to be there for him. And I'm tired of arguing with myself. Say something already. Break the silence.
...Alright.
"You know, amigo," Aisha said with a light smile, after swallowing her mouthful of steak. "I never did get to tell you exactly how glad I was to see you again...with all of the running and fighting going on." Her voice was quiet...it was certain nobody else could hear her. "Ever since that day...well, there hasn't been a time that I haven't wondered about you. If you had died..." her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and continued. "...Or just gone. After all of that, to say that I was worried would be something of an understatement."
She looked back up at Gareeku. "I hope I don't sound strange, or something, but...I missed you, my friend."
"My intentions?" Kerya said with her ears perked attentively. "At the moment, I intend nothing more than to help all of us come through this situation still alive and in one piece. It is something of a tradition for mages of my School: when we are judged by the senior Adepts to be worthy of the rank and title, we go out into the world for a year, to see what we can make of ourselves. I have studied our history, and it seems the School's founders intended their students to avoid becoming a typical mage cloistered in a lonely tower researching the whichness of the why."
She leaned against the table, tapping her claws on the tabletop thoughtfully. "It has its agreeable and disagreeable aspects. In one of my first ventures, I defeated a rogue mage and... ah... acquired much that has been useful. One of his spells, though, is the one that left me in an alley in Haszal with my head in a bucket. I must find the time to take that spell apart again and discover what is going wrong with it, before I try it again."
Kerya paused and looked up as someone knocked on the door.
Stygian tilted his head a bit, looking quizzically at the stoat as she explained her situation. 'You tested something new and volatile on yourself? Or am I misunderstanding the situation?' he queried. 'Forgive me if I say, but you're being too dire-'
The bat was interrupted, and his ears perked and swiveled, as there was a knock on the door. Mel stood outside, and spoke to them. He pondered letting Keaton get it, but knowing the jackal he thought better and stood up, pushing the door aside. 'We're just fine, thank you. You were mentioned,' he said, and stood aside, inviting the dragoness inside. 'It seems that our new companion does not have a proper mind shield.' He seated himself again, glancing a bit at Kerya. He knew exactly what it was like to hear others' thoughts, and just what things might come up, even in a world that was used to psychics like Cubi. He could only wonder what Keaton was overhearing of Kerya's thinking and interpretation of things going on.
Richard kept his eyes locked on the ceiling until Deirdre turned around, nodding at the appropriate points. He was already under the impression that Keaton was dangerous. Most of the group was, although he was withholding judgment on the ferret girl. She looked fairly harmless.
"Retired?" this one caught the musician by surprise; he'd only been dragged adventuring on the 'guest diploma' (a fancy way of saying that he'd joined an adventurer's party, or in those cases been drafted, without actually having any training or permit) and didn't know much about adventuring as a profession so much as something that happened to you, "You guys retire? I always figured you just, y'know, stopped."
The disguised dragon stepped into the cabin. "No shielding? I thought that was the first spell everyone learned." In the quiet of the cabin Mel realized the little mage really was unshielded. It hadn't been obvious in all the crowded locations they had previously met.
Initially Mel moved to just place the shield on Kerya, then paused. The mage would be better served by learning the spell. Unfortunately it would be impossible for the stoat to learn the spell the dragon generally used; components of the draconian language were lower than the normal range of hearing of most of the smaller species. Searching her memory she pulled up a shield used by Being mages. Performing the spell slowly and directly in front of Kerya Mel held the completed spell suspended for the foreign mage to examine for incompatibilities with the magic she used.
Kerya glared at the bat for just a fraction of a second. Perhaps only his sensitive ears could have picked out what she very quietly muttered to herself as Mel entered the cabin. "... think I have not the sense the Lady gave to a new-born cub? I made sure that spell was working before I dared to pass through it myself — three times I have gone over it with a flea-comb, and I still do not know why by the Names the Other-loving thing went so badly wrong when I sneezed..."
Her face was all friendly smile, though, by the time Mel offered to show her the mind-shield spell. She stared intently at the space between the snow leopard's hands, as if she could see more there than any of the others could.
"My thanks, Mel, this is a completely new type of spell to me. None of the Schools, or even the Guild themselves, have knowledge of anything capable of affecting the mind directly. Hmm. It does not seem to be related in any way to my normal physical shield spell, but I think I see... ahah!"
Ears and whiskers perked up, the little stoat reached out to where Mel held the spell ready. She poked at it with an outstretched claw, tracing a path in loops, tiny spirals, twists and turns, while her other hand, held out to the side, traced out a similar but not quite identical path. In this case, her clawtip left a trail of light in an increasingly complex structure that grew to resemble a large, complicated knot. Several of the loops and curls were fringed by something that could only be called scribbles; they looked like the result of a drugged bird chasing a drunken worm through a bottle of rainbow-coloured ink and then across a page. Kerya muttered to herself as she worked, only sometimes clearly enough to be heard. "... and a loop here... twisting to — what colour is that?... and braid under... knit one, purl two... and greenish-yellow purple... and I think that is it!" she said at last, as her colourful construction flared with light, then faded away and vanished.
Leaving Mel's original spell alone, now she went through several sequences of two-handed gestures, her lips moving slightly, although this time no sound came from her muzzle. The first sequence almost looked as if she were weaving a cat's cradle, but the next ones were shorter and simpler, until at last she ran through a quick one-handed gesture. She cradled a handful of — apparently — nothing, and held it up for Mel's inspection.
"There, that is the best I can do quickly, I think," the little stoat said, breathing a little heavier than normal as if she had just run up a flight of stairs. "Before I try it out on someone —" for an instant, almost too quickly to notice, she grinned toothily and glanced sideways at Sebastian, making a tossing motion in his direction with her tail, "— does this look to you as if it should work, Mel? I was forced to make a change or two, but it seems to be doing the same things as your spell."
Mel peered thoughtfully at the spell, mentally dividing it into the various components that she had been taught the spell needed and inspecting each piece for it's own strength as well as it's fit with the other parts. After a long thorough stare Mel ventured, "That should work just as well as the original. I am guessing that the points of difference are where it has to mesh with your other defenses?"
It seemed that Stygian had almost turned to peer out the window at the landscape running past outside, but he did notice Kerya's teasing gestures, why he stared back at her. To him, her explanation really had only said that the spell had not been new, but still volatile. When Mel's next comment came, he couldn't really ignore the opportunity to return the pass she'd made.
'She doesn't really have any other defenses, Mel. Not what I can sense,' the bat commented. 'Although she seems to throw some mean magic bolts around. Because I don't think it was you who turned that poor man into a valve.' He smirked cruelly, ears tensing and shifting a bit where he leaned on his hand.
Kerya blinked and looked at the bat with a genuinely puzzled expression as she allowed the spell in her hand to dissipate. "What do you mean, Sebastian? I cannot even use any of the transformation magics, only the strongest of our Adepts can control them. Something else that I see is very different here." She shuddered briefly from whiskers to tailtip. "I would not even if I could — those spells are so powerful and unpredictable, they frighten me. We have legends, cautionary tales, of what happens when — not "if" — they go wild."
A vivid image flashed through the little stoat's mind, one that had given her nightmares many times over the years. A woman, a chimaera, no two parts of her body belonging to the same species, raising her arms and calling on all her power, and all her fury, and all her will, to demand that the gods themselves grant her desire. She wore the shredded, half burned rags of what were once richly decorated robes. Kerya forced the image out of her mind before it ran to its conclusion; the one that always left her shivering in horror.
Again, Stygian's eyebrows shot. They were doing that quite a bit too much lately, he realized. But then, the little mustelid was not previously known to him, and not part of any of his knowledge or calculations. Still, he had to find out more about her, more of what she really was and what she was really after. More of what made her tick. The way things were, he could not let some minor little stone like her get in the gears of his machinery...
The bat smirked at Kerya. 'Unless I am mistaken, you were the one who repulsed that poor Mythos' spell and turned him into a fire suppression access. Or a fire hydrant. You know, big, red metal thing?' he said. He hoped it would come as a shock to her. 'I'm honestly quite impressed. Even though the mass is somewhat similar, a transformation like that is highly unlikely.'
...Keaton:As the discussion inclined away from the awkward subject of what Creature had attacked Kerya and toward her painfully-nonexistent mental defenses, Keaton leisurely lolled her head to the side, lazily observing the stoat from another angle. Even though she was not the sort to go about rampantly invading peoples' minds and desecrating their private memories and thoughts, Keaton couldn't help but feel the insistent tug of temptation pull at her curiosity. She had no interest in dissecting Kerya's mind, but she wanted to inspect the stoat's mental defenses on her own. Surprisingly, Keaton's motives were rather innocuous--if she had noticed something amiss she would've alerted the stoat to it, and maybe volunteered to set up a mind-shield. Of course, Mel was more of a capable candidate to handle such a task, but Keaton had an almost obsessive need to establish herself as useful at least
once in front of a new person she actually considered an acquaintance.
Discreetly, Keaton extended her mental influence, hoping to investigate Kerya's defenses in a way which wouldn't alert anyone to her devices.
Unfortunately, even Keaton's
good intentions didn't end well for her, at times.
The first thing she was smacked with was a particularly vociferous mental image of some sort of horrid monstrosity, vaguely feminine, but mostly resembling a demented caricature of sorts, a barbarous hodgepodge of various creatures melded into one abomination; emboldened by how particularly abhorred this concept was by its creator. Keaton yelped and swiftly backpedaled out of the periphery of Kerya's mind, hopefully undetected, then withdrew, attempting to look away and appear as inconspicuous and unsuspecting as possible.
---
...Deirdre:Deirdre seemed to find Richard's incredulity at the fact Adventurers could retire amusing. Still methodically adjusting her jacket, tucking in every minuscule offending detail which seemed out of place until she had achieved a more desirable appearance, she turned her head over so she could address the Undead simian.
"Pff. Oh yeah, it happens all the time," Deirdre laughed. "A lot of Adventurers retire. Most of 'em die rather young in their careers... usually around their early or mid-twenties. Since I'm thirty-four and retired two months ago, I was probably one of the lucky ones."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"Big red metal thing...?" Kerya asked in complete bafflement. "I saw something like that, I think, back at the club just before the lights went out. Let me think... Mel, you were there, some guards attacked and I saw you deflect a greenish spell I did not like the look of... then I think about then I found a pool of magic nearby, I drained some of it to replenish my power reserves, then... everything went berserk and something knocked me down. Did you see what happened, Mel?"
Just then, Kerya felt a very slight tickling sensation behind, or possibly between, her ears, that had been there for a few seconds, suddenly vanish. Keaton made a stifled yelp of surprise, and she turned towards the jackal to see what was wrong.
In the murky lighting of the cabin and against the dark, it was very hard to spot and distinguish anything black against the background. So the others could not clearly see if Stygian's eyes shifted or not. His suspicious frown and the sudden perk of his ears though made it seem that way, as he looked up from his seat and over toward Keaton. He might not have been able to sense what was going on, but what had happened, he could guess in just a couple of seconds. The topic was right there, and he knew the Jackal, after all.
'Oh, for Hell's sake, Keaton...!' he began, then moderated his tone and looked at the 'Cubi less angrily. 'What did you feel? If you're going to prod in someone's head you can at least show the courtesy to share it with us others.' He turned his face to Kerya, taking on an apologetic look and tone. 'I'm sorry, but if the damage is done...'
Mel looked puzzled when Ignatz mentioned someone getting turned into a valve. When he clarified that he was speaking of the chaos and odd magic in the club the pieces of that mystery clicked into place in her memory. "Ah, that was you. Amazing. I've never seen anyone rewrite a spell in mid-execution before. Turning that poison fog spell into a transformation one in that split second must be a very precision operation."
But before Kerya could answer Keaton gave a little squeak that distracted all attention to the jackal despite her attempts to appear nonchalant.
As the two of them ate their food, silence had once again fallen between Gareeku and Aisha. However, while the pantheress was worrying about where Gareeku had been for the past few years, the wolf was busy stuffing food into his mouth. Typical male, one might say.
Hearing the pantheress speak, however, snapped Gareeku out of his eating and into the realisation of how Aisha had been while he had been gone. Swallowing the mouthful of food he was eating, the wolf listened as the pantheress expressed her worry for him when he had disappeared. Hearing this, concern for Aisha immediately made itself apparent within him as he set down his knife and fork.
"Well I'm here now." Gareeku replied softly, looking her in the eyes as the slightest hint of a smile could be seen at the corner of his mouth. "I have missed you too, Aisha."
Richard smirked slightly at Deirdre's choice of words. "Lucky until you fell in with this group. Fell in with them by accident two days ago and I've been shot at, taken apart, kidnapped, had my house broken into, stabbed numerous times, and I'm now skipping town. Luck isn't the word I'd use." Of course, it IS a weird turn of events that a retired adventurer with a connection to Keaton was in the club Stygian was headed for on this night... The undead chose his next words carefully... Compared to usual, "You know anything about what went down at the club? That Laertes jackass, those monsters..." So far the bat's keeping the plan to himself save for whatever we're doing in the immediate future, and I don't trust that at all. Who else is he gonna 'accidentally' pick up, and why?
It seemed hard for Aisha to expect just what kind of reply she would get to her statement. Her stomach carried enough butterflies for her to temporarily lose her hunger...that almost never happened to her. She wondered about this. She had elbows on the table and her head resting on two fists, and glanced to her nearly-finished plate. She wondered...perhaps it was possible that she cared for him more than she thought...
But then she heard the wolf speak, and looked back up to see the hints of a smile tugging on his lip. The panther returned his gaze, and a smile of her own, hearing him say that he had missed her as well. The butterflies subsided, but her heart thundered. "I...thank you. I'm glad to hear it, Gareeku," she replied quietly, laying her hands on the table. "And you are here, true, which I'm all the more glad for. I never gave up on the possibility that you were alive, and...it was true."
She paused for a moment, and then reached across to lay her hand upon his own again. "Just make sure that if you have to leave again, you let me say goodbye," she chuckled softly. "I doubt I could take losing anyone I care for."
Aisha then released a sigh to release the last of the tension, slowly pulling her hand back. That was when the waitress passed, asking how everything was, before putting the check in front of them for when they were finished and walking off. Aisha smirked, cutting into the last of her meat. "I'll take care of that, if you'll permit me. You payed for my drinks at the club...and saved my neck on top of that. It's the least I could do."
Listening to Aisha speak, Gareeku felt her hand rest upon his on the table once more. This time, however, he took his other hand and placed it over the top of hers, not even thinking about it as he did it as he continued to look into her eyes.
It was then, however, that the pantheress released a sigh and pulled her hand away. Secretly, the wolf didn't want her to, but didn't say anything for fear of sounding somewhat stupid in his opinion. No sooner had Aisha pulled her hand away, however, that the waitress passed them and asked how everything was for them, before leaving their check on the table and walking off again. Listening to Aisha speak once more as she resumed eating, Gareeku shook his head.
"No. Let me pay. I insist." the wolf replied, before picking up his knife and fork and cutting into the last of his own meat. "You do not need to pay me back or anything like that. I did what I did because I wanted to...because I care."
As Aisha bit into the steak, she listened to Gareeku as he replied, insisting that he pay for the meal. The panther looked as if to argue, but instead, she withdrew her voice with a soft smile upon her face from his next statement; that he, too, cared. The warm way that she felt right then, the panther was more than happy to accept the offer, nodding in response. "Thank you then, Gareeku...I appreciate it all. And you know, I don't care how much you say you've changed...you're still the one I've always lo--...known. Noble and true," she said, her voice and countenance sincere. Still she pondered over missing a beat with what she was almost going to say, her face suddenly warm.
The last of the meal seemed to pass in the peaceful silence that filled the dining car. Some of the customers had already left, leaving it nearly empty for the night. With the plate finished, and the feeling of a full stomach taking her nerves, the panther stretched in her seat. "Hmmm, from all the rumors I've heard about food on a train being untasteful, it was rather good," she commented.
Aisha glanced to the lingering darkness of night passing by out of the window, and then grinned back at Gareeku. "Dios mio...I don't know about you, but I might be ready to try sleeping. So long as nothing else goes wrong to interrupt." To avoid jinxing from the statement, she knocked a few times on the wooden table and rolled her eyes, grabbing her cape and standing up.
...Keaton:As she recuperated from inadvertently reading Kerya's mind, Keaton suddenly became aware of the daggered glare she was receiving from Stygian, who did
not appear amused about her fidgeting around with the contents of Kerya's thoughts. Although the bat himself did not ostensibly radiate any immediately detectable emotional energy, Keaton could practically feel the intensity of his gaze prickling and blistering on the back of her neck. Sighing, the jackal brushed her hand over her forehead, toying with the strands of dirty-blonde hair draped helter-skelter about her face.
"What?!" she demanded defensively when she noticed that not only Stygian's eyes were on her, but just about everyone else's were as well. When Stygian asked what she had seen, a slightly flush-faced Keaton sighed irritatedly and folded her arms under her chest, looking very embarrassed at the fact she had been discovered. "Fine. I saw some.. weird... monster. I don't know what's going on in your head, Ker, but that was one fucked up monster there. Didn't look like any Creature I've seen in Furrae, either."
--
...Deirdre:Deirdre's expression reached a more quizzical, darkened angle when Richard asked her if she was aware of any connections between Laertes and Stygian. Blinking, her feather-tufted ear twitched rapidly, thoughtfully, then she answered, "I don't even know who this Laertes guy is, to be perfectly honest with you, Richard," she said with a shrug. "I really just had entered that club because I needed some time to unwind. The whole situation was just..." she sighed, then chose her next words carefully, so not to offend. "Bad luck, I guess."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya cocked her ears slantwise at Keaton's words; she knew exactly what she had been thinking about just a moment ago. Her tail twitched once and fluffed out slightly, then a sardonic grin came on her face. "So, you saw the old Empress in my thoughts, did you? Good luck getting her out of your head again: the Lady knows, I have been trying for years. That foaming, shaved monster is... one of those cautionary tales I spoke of. And that is all I will say for now, the full tale does not make for comfortable listening, or telling, this late at night."
She turned back to Mel with a sigh. "That was none of my doing, Mel, I cannot rewrite someone else's spells either. I do not understand what happened there. I am missing something, I know it — something obvious..."
Thinking back to the discussion just before the jackal's interruption, Kerya was becoming very confused, a state she did not enjoy in the least. She wished she knew how Sebastian and Mel had misunderstood what she was capable of. Normally she wouldn't mind all that much: a little extra mystery and aura of danger usually did a mage's reputation little real harm, and could in the right circumstances be helpful. If what Sebastian had said and implied was true, though, and that burst of wild magic had transformed someone in an uncontrolled fashion... she was getting queasy just thinking about it. And a horrible suspicion was creeping into her mind, that the random burst had come immediately after she drained what she thought was a natural pool of magic, free for anyone to use. The two thoughts had not come together yet, but they were now close enough to wave to one another.
Before, Stygian had only expressed a sort of mild surprise at some of the points brought up throughout the conversation. Now though, the bat's features seemed to darken as he looked down, pressing his back further up against the back of the seat and drawing up a knee to lean his elbow on. Getting the peculiarities of Kerya's speech had been easy enough. Now, getting what she was saying...
Something seemed to bode ill, when the corner of the bat's mouth drew upward. 'Well, if that is the case... If I understand things right, and you say that... heheee...' he said, and peered at the stoat. For a second, the little mustelid thought she could see a deep, cold glint of blue in his obsidian eyes amid all that dark. 'You seized, and wrenched the magic out of shape. Most curious. Was the club's protection failing your fault as well?' He grinned, and not just on the outside. If the little thing had such powers, she might indeed be useful. Tearing magic apart or corrupting it was something that he was familiar with, yet keeping it intact through the process, or draining it as this Kerya seemed capable of, was something new to him.
Kerya's ears perked forward as she gave the bat her full attention. "What was that, Sebastian? There was a... spell of protection of some kind in the club? I could sense nothing of that nature when I entered the building, although the style of magic people use here is just different enough from my own that sometimes I do not... notice..."
Her voice trailed off as two particular thoughts in her mind came together with what she was saying, leaving only one possible conclusion. "Shave and mount it, I did do it!" she whispered in a shocked tone. "That was no pool of free power I drained, that was the protection spell! I took away half of its power without taking it down cleanly, so of course it went wild — it was the backlash from the spell collapsing that hit me a moment later and knocked me back on my tail!"
Kerya's eyes grew wider and her ears dipped lower as she realised that, accidentally or not, it seemed she might be at least partly responsible for the transformation. And with no obvious way to reverse it, and no guarantee the victim would still be alive anyway... She moaned and clamped her muzzle shut with one hand, clutching the table edge with the other as she staggered dizzily from the motion of the train. Her eyes darted about the cabin, then she made a diving leap past Mel and out the cabin door. As she landed there was a quiet snap and something clattered to the floor at her feet. She nearly tripped over it, then scrambled along the corridor towards the bathroom at the end of the car. First the cabin door, then the bathroom door, slammed so hard they bounced half open again, and the sound of the little stoat being violently ill could be heard clearly over the clattering and rattling of the train's wheels. In the cabin doorway lay the object she had dropped; a sheathed dagger on a leg strap with a broken buckle.
And so the truth finally came together. Most of the others seemed shocked. However, Stygian's face remained neutral, up to the very point where Kerya threw herself out of the cabin, dropping something and scrambling for the bathroom. The bat grinned then, viciously in his darkened face as he sat back. Oh, yes. Curious indeed, he thought. And useful, I am certain. Though we shall have to guide and help her, or she won't last a day in this world. Getting caught by a Cubi as she was is proof of that...
Though caught up in his thoughts, the bat couldn't help but notice the item the little stoat had dropped though; a simple, ordinary dagger with a bit of wear and tear to it, it seemed. Yet that she should wear such a thing, when it clearly was not decorate... A memento, most probably. Whatever the case...
The bat's eyes still fastened on the knife, something moved under his jacket and then crept out from beside him, a half-liquid tentacle or something with slightly blurred contoures, made of the deepest black. Snaking forth quickly, it slithered over the floor, before its end changed shape and split, growing three jointed fingers, each ending in a long, curved claw. The thing carefully pinched the dagger into a grip, and then lifted it, bringing it up to Stygian's hand as he stretched it out, and then proceeded to creep back up under the white of his jacket again, vanishing. Gingerly, the bat looked at the knife, spinning it between carefully touching fingers.
It was three or four cups later when the mouse waitress came back with a pot of coffee, and the wolf waved it away, and thanking her anyway. Raising her eyebrows and grinning, she simply shrugged and walked back, leaving a check for the coffee on the wolf's table. He fumbled for a few coins, leaving two or three on the table as a tip, and standing quickly donned his hat and glasses before walking back out of the dining car and back into the main hallway.
As he walked through, he heard the sound of gagging in one of the rooms - raising an eyebrow, the wolf walked back into the main cabin, where Stygian was idly flipping a seemingly ordinary knife in his hand. The wolf took a seat, feeling the cold night emanate from the glass behind his head.
"Didn't really take you for a knife guy." the wolf commented idly, leaning back on the bench seat.
'That's because I'm not,' Stygian replied, still twirling the knife between his fingers. 'What I can't do with my claws... well...' he continued. 'Firearms do a better job at what I need any weapons for.' He tossed the knife up into the air for a bit, spinning it, and catcing it between the fingers of his other hand. Tipping it from side to side, he looked at it for a while, then just put his hand down. Ambivalently, he stared forward, looking pensive.
"I see..." the wolf said, eying the knife that Stygian then set down and raising an eyebrow. He wondered what the bat was doing with a knife, if he didn't use them - perhaps it was more for utility than anything else - it was rather small, although the thigh strap made him give the bat yet another odd look.
He sighed, leaning back again, and then yawning.
Mel looked thoughtfully at the door the stoat had exited. She shook her head, that would have to work itself out piece by piece as she learned to accommodate her magic to this dimension. She took a seat and addressed Stygian, "Anything you care to share about the moments before everything went bad?"
Just after Mel spoke, Kerya reappeared in the doorway. She still looked queasy, and her face and muzzle fur showed signs of being quickly washed and not properly dried. "Urgh... my apologies," she said as she walked in and sat, or rather slumped, in the corner. "That was one shock too many, after everything that has happened tonight. I will be all right now, I think."
The suddenness of Mel's question drew Stygian's eyes up, and one of his eyebrows cocked in turn as he looked at her sideways. He had really hoped that he could save the lengthy explanations until later, to earn a little pause. But to say that he hadn't been ready to go through things would have been an outright lie. Still, he wanted the initial shock of things to settle. It had been less than half an hour before they left the station. So the best compromise right then was to take things one at a time.
'Things went... badly, I guess. But not as badly as some things that I had predicted. And it seems that we evaded the by far greater part of mayhem and disaster,' he said, hoping that this explanation would make them ponder how things could have unfolded.
Stygian's latter thought was supported by Kerya's statement when she returned, having made a rather quick transition from looking neat and pretty to merely small and somewhat haggard.
'I hope you will be,' the bat stated, truthfully. He extended his hand, holding her knife. 'You dropped this. Now... As for other things, I think it would be suitable that we all discussed the situation together. Not that I won't explain things to you now, of course. But please bear with me if I'm rather short.' He looked at Mel seriously, and then between the rest of the ones present. 'I met with a very old acquaintance of mine; a business partner if you like. Her name is Ashtareth, or Astaroth or Sekhmet or any other of a number of names, whichever you prefer...' He said that last thing as if it were just a minor detail. 'She has stated her intentions to have me and other members of our party captured or killed. And she has support from a number of other creatures like her. Powerful creatures.' He looked between them all again. 'Creatures much like me.'
Kerya stared bleary-eyed at the dagger in Sebastian's hand for a second or two. She jumped a little, put her hand on her inner thigh, and blinked as she felt nothing under her dress except leg. "M' thanks," she muttered fuzzily, "someth'ng must've snapped, di'n't feel it go." She leaned forward and took the dagger, slipped it through the sash around her waist, and leaned back again with an "I've got a really bad headache, so if you value your tail don't bother me" look on her face.
She sat up again though, all business, a moment later when the bat mentioned one particular name. "Sekhmet — you mean the lioness who sang in the club? Before we finish here tonight, Sebastian, I need to know what else she did besides sing. The moment I heard her voice I was... captivated. That rabbit, the 'Cubi, said something about the song helping her beguile me so easily — grasping control of Sekhmet's bindings as they released me, I think she said."
The little stoat then turned to face Mel with a frown of concern. "And I hope my new mind-shield spell is an effective defence against this. It was a most unnerving experience — at least, when I was once more capable of thinking." She hugged herself and shivered, although anyone paying very close attention to her face and scent, or eavesdropping on her still unshielded thoughts, might think her reaction was not out of fear.
Perhaps... longing? Desire?
Mel looked as if she was about to say something to Ignatz when Kerya asked her question about some sort of hypnotic in the singer's voice. She paused for a moment then answered, "Truthfully, I have no idea. I was not touched by the spell to know how it was shaped. Whether the protection was my shielding or the fact that I was standing beside the waterfall and could barely hear the music I can not say. Unless Ignatz knows something more specific about his business partner's powers you will have to adjust on the fly."
Looking between Kerya and Mel, Stygian snorted, and then wished he had a cup of tea or a drink to sip so he could down his eyes a bit while he thought of a comment. Instead, he looked out the window a bit, voice somewhat murky and distant as his eyes caught the landscape.
'I can assure you that it would be hard enough to analyze, even if you were affected by it, Mel,' he said. 'That one has had far too much experience, even with alternative ways of influencing the mind. Sometimes I say that you are the best mentalist that I have ever met, Mel. Well...' He sighed, and then looked back to the dragonness. 'That's sort of a lie. You might be the most powerful one, but not the best. Ashtareth outstrips you there. By a good deal.' He kept looking at her seriously, even somewhat apologetically, for a while, before turning his gaze down and resuming. 'That's what's earned her the name. Aberrant. Or, you might know her by some other pantheon name; Delirium, for example.'
...Keaton:
In the face of Kerya's explanation regarding the chimera-creature she had seen, Keaton merely remained in her sullen, sulking position, glaring irritably at the far wall. There probably wasn't a logical explanation behind her agitation, but Keaton simply hated the idea that she had been discovered lurking about Kerya's personal thoughts. It made her feel ostracized, even if that quite clearly wasn't the case. Hypocritical, considering her isolating tendencies, but she preferred to be alone by her own volition--whether she had left peacefully or chased everyone away. That thought trailed away when Stygian said something--something about a protection spell and the club--which made the stoat violently ill and forced her to retreat for the nearest bathroom facilities. Distracted from her rather contradictory musings, Keaton watched uncomfortably as Kerya sprinted past, then eyed Stygian, wondering why he looked so accomplished.
Ah well. Stygian's agenda wasn't exactly something Keaton wanted to intimately analyze. Someone could get hurt.
When Kerya returned, retrieving the knife which Keaton hadn't seen her drop from Stygian, Keaton looked sympathetically at the stoat. She was no stranger to losing her lunch so violently, having drank her way into borderline sickness countless times over the course of her life. It wasn't fun. Her wordless sympathies passed on, Keaton redirected her attention to Stygian, who was beginning his explanation about the enemies they were facing.
At the moment, she was most fascinated with the lioness they had encountered within the Red Sands. She had reversed her shapeshifting and had read her memories. There was no explanation behind her knowing her real name. It was infuriating. Just thinking about it made Keaton smolder silently.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Without any apparrent concern for the particular thoughts or musings of the others, the bat kept going on. He was going to summarize things as concisely as he could, as they would have plenty of time going into the details later, when they had their questions worked out. Because he did not doubt that there would be quite a few.
'Besides Ashtareth, there are four more. One, we faced before the station. Probably the strongest in direct combat of them all; don't be fooled by this escape. He was only caught by surprise, and had to wait in the others. His name is Lehvithan, or Pandemonian, or Destruction...' He waved his hand a bit as he said the names, and his tone indicated that he could go on a long exposition there. 'And besides him there is also Viceful, Marred and Imperious. Although they may not all like those names.' He grinned, and went on, still looking nowhere in particular. 'They are creatures, or entities even, perhaps, old and terribly mighty and all part of one and thesame group. A sort of covenant of power-holders, rivals yet not because they compete but on different territories and aid each other in certain agendas and to certain purposes.' It was only now that he glanced back up at the others, his undefinable gaze slowly shifting between them. It seemed so hard to tell just by that dim gleam in all that darkness exactly who he was looking at, until one was caught by his gaze. What made Keaton feel that his eyes had stopped on her was as much the angle to his head, as the sudden, chilling feeling she got. It was like the prickling at one's mind when being watched by something from out of the shadows, something that can't be seen or heard, but that one knows is there. The whole of the cabin seemed shadowed and murky, true. But the feeling that the bat's blackened eyes seemed to convey was a darkness much deeper than that.
'Needless to say,' Stygian continued unfettered, 'they have vast resources, and so we are going to have to move and work in secrecy.'
Kerya nodded and muttered agreement to Mel's reply. It wasn't the most reassuring answer the white leopard could have given, but it would have to do for now. Besides, she had examined the spell carefully as she was adapting it. She still wasn't sure how, or for that matter why, it operated, but what she had noticed were several points where the spell could be adjusted. Presumably these were what Mel meant.
Her attention returned to Sebastian as he continued his little speech. None of the names meant anything to her, of course, so she glanced sideways at the others from time to time to see if she could be guided by their reactions. She returned the bat's gaze calmly and confidently when she was sure he was looking at her for a long moment. Inside the hoped-for privacy of her thoughts, she was more honest with herself. I am beginning to have a very bad feeling about all this...
Cog had almost fallen asleep before the conversation had really started in earnest, and keeping his eyes closed and the wolf simply leaned back and listened as the bat described what the hell had exactly gone on back in the club.
His ear flicked as the bat went on, describing this pantheon of figures that had seemingly taken a dislike to all of them. From the sound of it, none of them were to be taken lightly, although they seemed to have made it back from Ashtareth's lair alright.
Cog paused, musing for a moment. This -could- be useful... he thought, wondering exactly how strong Laertes was. He doubted that the Jackal was as strong as all of them - perhaps he could somehow twist this situation to his advantage.
Cog coughed, shaking his head slowly, his eyes still closed.
"Son of a bitch."
Stygian almost hesitated as Cog interjected. He knew what the man meant, but it really was a bit needless. Instead, he opted for some sort of relief, this time by humor.
'That's alright. I don't mind,' the bat said, completely seriously, lowering his eyes and waving aversively and distraughtly with one hand. 'But in regards to the deal at hand, we must be quick about things. I have a few connections in Jann's, but not too friendly ones. Either way, we should try and find our way from there as fast as possible. And on our own; not by some traceable means. There are a few places we could go, but only a few cross my mind as good. Haven, for example. Getting lost in the crowds. Or D'Asir. I know some we could go to, but...'
Placing his hand on his chin, the bat turned his gaze out the window for a bit, scratching his jaw and neck, before turning back to the others, looking at them yet again, though this time with a somewhat more friendly air.
'I'm sorry. Perhaps we shouldn't be thinking so much about escaping as finding out just precisely it is what our foes want. That's what you're thinking, right?' he asked. Regardless whether if anyone of them had thought so, he went on. 'I think I have a clue, that's true. But we will need to find out more. And there are very few ways and places for that. That is why we are running, right now. To buy time.'
The wolf considered for a moment, opening his eyes invisibly behind shaded lenses. I don't think any of this started -after- we met him... he mused, scratching his chin. They must want something to do with the bat. It wouldn't make any sense for them to want anything we have.
He paused. Perhaps they just want to kill him, and us by extension.
He adjusted his hat. "So, you don't think it's just a homicidal dislike for you then? They...want, something?"
Cogidubnus' comment seemed well-thought, but it also caused the bat to develop a sour expression and direct his eyes in the wolf's direction, the other man getting a full taste of that narrow-eyed and icy glare. Couple with the landscape outside, it made it hard not to shiver.
'I have eluded them for quite some time. They have power and resources, and if I gave off hints, then I would be dead if they wanted me that way. But we have not even met in a long while,' he said, taking the wolf's words partly as a comment on his abilities. 'They know my opinions on them, and what I've caused them before. If it were not something they wanted, they would keep the Hell away from us all.' He looked away again, a bit bitterly. 'And of course, since it's them and this way, it must be something considerable.'
Mel filed away but didn't take offense when Ignatz stated that his business associate was a better mentalist. Even with a very long lifespan one could study and practice just so many things. "Just how fast is their information gathering? Since I did not join the merry band until the second bar fight and Kerya here until the third and neither of us are exactly local, how quickly will they get us worked into their machinations? Is it long enough to be of any sort of benefit?"
Kerya's ears flicked back and forth as she thought about something. Finally she spoke up, after Mel's question. "I notice, Sebastian, you have not mentioned that winged jackal with the scythe, the one who started the panic in the club with that little performance of his. Is he not part of this group hunting you? He is certainly powerful, I hit him with a lightning bolt — not at full strength, admittedly — and it only seemed to annoy him."
Suddenly Kerya's ears perked up and her eyes widened. She stared at the bat with a surprised, almost amused look on her face. "Wait... Keaton called you "Styg"... Stygian? You are the "Stygian Don'chel" that idiot jackal was looking for?" Now she did giggle a little, fast and high-pitched like most of her speech. "I remember wondering if "Stygian" might end up needing help as well..."
Mel's question did not come as a surprise, although it was not as easy a one to answer as the others. 'Fast. Fast enough so as to be almost immediate compared to that of most others. But I don't think that they will take regards to you and other circumstances unaccounted for. They have probably already worked out what they want and how they want it. So I would not count on that for some sort of relief.' The bat was about to say more, before Kerya cut in, and he turned his gaze toward her, frowning slightly.
Almost sighing at Kerya's response and near-immediate mood-shift, Stygian made an admitting gesture with his hand and a single nod. 'Yes, Stygian. He was referring to me. Though I wonder what sort of "help" you mean...' He shook his head and adjusted his position a bit. 'Regardless, his name is Laertes. The other two who were with him are called Carey and Ace. They are another part of the equation though. Hunters. They will probably pursue us, though their chances at succeeding at their task after having been drawn into this...' He made a nonchalant gesture and stopped.
"Laertes Melanthious the Obsidian, fifth inquisitor of the Church of the Martyr's Blood, a religious organization that's quite prominent in the West." Cog said, not really looking at anyone, although his eyes were looking at Stygian from behind his shades.
"You remember our conversation, before we entered the club, yes?" the wolf said, now looking directly at Stygian. "I have another question, now. What does that Jackal want with you?"
The way Cog spoke, it was apparent he knew the priest in some fashion, although he wasn't volunteering any information in that regard.
He paused for a moment as well, thinking, and then spoke. "And when do you think we'll arrive?"
'If you had checked the timetable, you would see that the train runs for eleven hours to Jann's cliff. We have to pass through a few valleys,' Stygian said, rubbing his temple. 'So we're sleeping here. As for Laertes...' The bat sighed, and shrugged. 'I can only imagine that either I have offended him, or more probably he is the one the church has assigned to chase me down. I posed as a cleric for a few years and delved into not a few of the Martyr's Blood's secrets. Not without aid, I will admit, but...'
"My apologies. I must have missed it when we were running to board." Cog said, pausing a moment and then raising an eyebrow.
"My apologies, but you...posed as a priest? Really?" Cog stared at the bat for a moment, and smiled slowly, amused at something.
"Perhaps we do know why he's trying to kill you, then." Cog said, smirking slightly. "If only for slander." Cog's voice was amused, and he looked away from the bat to stare outside the windows. "Truly, though...they take heresy seriously in that church. If you know something you're not supposed to, they aren't generally nice about it."
Cog paused, seemingly staring into the sky, and then spoke again. "Do the rest of these...'powers', know about him?" he said, turning to look at the bat again. "I doubt either of those parties would like each other. Getting caught in a crossfire is marginally better than getting hit by both of them at once."
Kerya hmmf'ed noncommittally at Sebastian's reply, looking thoughtful. Her ears perked up when Cogidubnus added some more detailed information about Laertes. "So, there were actually two attacks, neither connected to the other?" she asked, more talking to herself than to anyone else. Her eyes and ears flicked between the wolf and the bat for a few moments, then she grinned wryly. "A pity that we cannot do as happens in all the worst bard's tales, as you suggest, Cogidubnus, and trick this Laertes and Sebastian's foes into fighting one another, and perhaps weaken both of them. Somehow I doubt they would be so obliging, or so stupid, as to allow us that."
After a moment's pause she added, not entirely seriously, "Or would they? Of Laertes I could well believe it, after his grand fanfare of an entrance — literally, if I remember. He may have power to match the grandeur of his titles, but such arrogance can be a weakness that we may have the luck to turn to our advantage, if we dare."
Chuckling at the stoat's suggestion, Stygian shook his head a bit, and then leaned on his hand again, bent forward so that he looked at her a bit closer.
'A very good suggestion. Unfortunately, it is me he wants. Not to mention that Ace definitely wants only me. And the others, I think would have to be hard pressed to expend any of their efforts on a fanatic and a simple, unremarkable bounty hunter or two,' he said, not disregardingly or overly dismissively, but merely pessimistically. 'I am not saying we can try. But I wonder just what good it would do, save buy us time which we already should have better alternatives for than coming near them.' The bat sighed, and sat pondering for a good while. The discussion had already taken time, and not really surmounted to anything. They were going to need more information. And this when right then they were on the move. He would have turned to Mel in normal cases, but he happened to know that few, if any Dragons or even Fae could know about the threat they were facing. Unbelieveable to some, but a special precaution that could be, and had been taken, he knew for a fact. Because so very few knew and understood what was actually happening that it had been enough to keep things secret through personal channels, the only way that anyone could have found so much as a hint.
Finally, the bat put his hand down and slumped a bit, breathing slowly before he sat back up and looked toward Kerya and then Cog. 'I'll think about it. Thoroughly. Right now though, we need to escape. And if they are not on our trail already, they will be quite soon. Which of course means that we shall have to depart from Jann's Cliff as soon as we can.' He looked around between the others. 'So I suggest that we all think of the best ways to move stealthily. Jann's Cliff is a coastal city by a sound, but it is high up at the same time, and there are hills and mountains and fields wide around, but few forests. Land, sea or air. What is sure is that we can't resort to walking all the way at least.'
Mel nodded a little with everyone's points, but didn't have anything constructive to add. "I think that being rested when we arrived at Jann's Cliff is probably be the best immediate plan. We should probably sleep while we can since it is uncertain when the next chance will be."
"Probably the best way to pass eleven hours." Cog said, nodding his head. He sighed and rubbed at his temple and then stood, brushing a few stray hairs out of his eyes. A long-suppressed yawn escaped him. It really had been a rather long day.
Cog sat, waiting until everyone was situated correctly before trying to pull out the sofas or any of the other fold-ups into a bed.
At Cog's words, Kerya cleared her throat and glanced at Mel and Keaton. "I too may be retiring soon," she said, "it has been a long and eventful day for me. Before I do, though, I am about to essay that mental shield spell. Mel, if you would, can you watch the spell as I feed it power? I do not wish to discover the hard way that it reacts... poorly to being fully activated. And Keaton —" she turned to face the jackal 'Cubi with an almost entirely convincingly innocent smile on her muzzle "— I give you an invitation." The words this time were not spoken aloud, but nevertheless hung there clearly at the end of the little stoat's statement. "Would you try yourself against my shield, once I have it stable? Give it a buffet or two, see if there are any weak points that may require shoring up or reworking."
...Keaton:
Keaton remained uncharacteristically silent throughout Stygian's explanation and description of their antagonists, instead transferring all heightening anxiety to toying with her fingernail. Gritting her teeth together, the jackal apprehensively eyed Stygian over her fingernail, which she was gnawing on rather viciously, her ears flat and her expression generally tense. Unlike Cogidubnus, she didn't seem as obsessively engrossed with any particular individual, even though her vendettas lingered mostly on Ashtareth.
At the end of Stygian's presentation, Keaton merely nodded, finding herself bereft of any commentary or questions, for once. Just for once. All that she could register in that moment was that she had a horrible headache, the result of digesting that day's events and the afore-described information all at once. Running her index and middle fingers over her temple, she irritably mumbled something about getting a drink under her breath, then started to turn and leave when Kerya confronted her. Blinking, Keaton turned her head around to gaze down at the stoat.
An... unusual request. Keaton hummed nonchalantly to herself and nodded her confirmation. The stoat's slightly insincere smile was a little unsettling, but the jackal couldn't see any immediate problems with testing her mind-fortification. It wasn't like Kerya was going to drive her insane. Just in case, Keaton answered, "Sure. I can do that..." Keaton lifted her index finger helpfully. "Provided you don't think up any freaky monsters like that.. whatever-you-call-it from before."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"That's very well and good, girls." Cog said, suppressing another yawn and standing. "But unless you want to see Richard half-naked, I suggest that you go and get him before he beds down in your cabin."
"Unless you want to sleep in the same cabin as him." Cog said, nodding his head towards Stygian. "In which case, I am going to go to sleep in the dining car."
The bat himself had been just about to comment about something, possibly the image of Richard half-naked or, more probably, the wisdom in having Keaton check one's mind-shields. He was broken off before he could start though, by Cogidubnus' statement. One that quickly made a devious smirk spread over his features. It seemed that the wolf had taken a few things to mind since their first meeting some time ago.
'What?' he said, with mock incredulity, and then turned his face to Kerya. 'Honestly, I have no idea what he is talking about. You must forgive him.' He chuckled, and then glanced over at Cog, sharp fangs glistening in a wicked expression and cold eyes glistening. 'Really, don't you have more faith in me than that, puppy?' he said, using a name for Cog that he was aware was quite effective at putting the latter off.
The wolf looked over at the bat, a bit of a nonplussed and sardonic look on his face. He tipped his at to the bat.
"You are a man, sir, that I would and have trusted with my life. But perhaps not with my wife." he said, giving him a short grin. "So, no."
"Of course, I don't mean to be a bore or anything. I can still go to the dining car."
Ignoring the banter between Cog and Ignatz, Mel nodded acknowledgement she had heard her request to the smaller mage. The disguised dragon pulled up spells that she thought might be helpful if something did get out of control, but wasn't really sure how much help they would be if some sort of strange synergy happened between the two different magic styles. Focusing her vision upon Kerya she nodded a second time, signaling she was as ready as it was possible to be when one was pioneering new magic.
Kerya nodded back to Mel, leaned over and picked up her staff from where she'd left it before her hasty exit. Grasping it firmly in one hand, she raised her other hand and slowly, carefully, ran through the spell she had worked out earlier with the snow leopard's help. A faint haze grew about her upper body, gradually coalescing into a translucent sphere of swirling iridescent colours, like oil on water, about two feet across. She was still clearly visible inside it as she licked suddenly dry lips and made one final commanding gesture. A swarm of tiny, faint sparkling lights appeared around the silver mountings at either end of her staff, flowed together to meet in a brighter glow at her hand, then ran up her arm and merged with the coloured sphere. The swirling rainbow non-patterns whirled faster for a moment, becoming almost opaque, then the sphere collapsed about the little stoat's head, the colours draining away like ink splashed over waxed paper.
Panting slightly and completely visible once more, Kerya opened one eye. Reassured that the world was still there, she opened the other one. "Well, that was not so bad: it did not require too much power," she said as she got her breathing back under control. "As for whether or not it is working, when Keaton returns we will find out for sure."
Closing his eyes and chuckling, the bat looked down for just a bit. Absently he wondered just what Cog had thought of him during their first, impromptu meeting back at an inn in a coastal city. Certainly, the wolf must have perceived just a few things he thought curious. Things that Stygian had let on, of course. But ones that the other should have thought he wasn't actually trying to. The wondering about Mel's wisdom divulging her magic, not to mention his questions as to whether if Kerya would be able to perceive her and her spells as a magic supply, and what the stoat's impression of him was, were all close behind that thought.
'You would wound me,' he replied to Cogidubnus, 'were it not for the fact that I'm such a bastard. I'd have thought from our previous experiences that you would know that no one is safe around me.' He grinned back and mocked the wolf a bit, just for sport. Whatever retort the other might have had in store though was rudely interrupted by a rather flashy light show from Kerya. Narrowing his eyes and raising an eyebrow in sync, stygian looked over at the little mustelid. In that sort of situation, he could not help but think of her as just a little girl. The difference in appearance between them, and doubtless also a considerable one of age, did more to add to that though.
'Are all your spells that flashy?' the bat asked. 'Forgive me then if I put you last in line if a fight is to be expected.'
Kerya actually looked slightly embarrassed as she looked up at Sebastian with her muzzle still pointing a little down. If the lights in the cabin had been a little brighter, it might have been possible to see whether she was blushing on the insides of her ears. "It is a nuisance sometimes, I know," she said, "but all varieties of my shielding spells have that characteristic iridescence when I cast them, and some also when I dispel them. And not just Four Rings mages, as far as I know all schools of magic, back home, at any rate, share the same characteristic in just those spells." She smiled wryly and continued, "One of my instructors — not a mage, she taught us how to defend ourselves with ordinary weapons — could never abide it either. She always called it the
shoot-me-now-please-I'm-not-hiding procedure. Many of us agree with her, but there is little we can do. All attempts to create a more stealthy spell have so far failed."
She held her head up straighter, showing more confidence in the set of her whiskers and ears as she continued, "As for the rest of the...
light show, I believe I have heard it called, that was only because I was stepping through the spell slowly and carefully, using none of my own power; I did not wish to make a mistake, the results may have been... <ahem> unfortunate. When I cast it at normal speed, all of that will no longer be visible."
As Aisha replaced the cape about her neck and stood with a stretch (which felt good after the train's very filling meal), she stole a glance around the atmosphere of the dining car. Neither she nor Gareeku seemed to have paid attention to how many people had come and gone, but the place was certainly significantly more empty than it had been. Cogidubnus had left only moments before, barely paying the other two any heed.
She stood with her back against the doorway, waiting for her companion as he paid the check. The panther had her eyes curiously out towards the rest of the car where the cabins were, wondering just what the others were doing; if they were already asleep or not. There looked to be lights still on in the windows, but it was hard to tell if those were just reflections of some other passing lights or the moon itself. She wondered also about the accommodations; two large cars had been reserved for the group, each divided into small areas with sofa-beds and pull-out bunks just above on each wall.
"If we're sharing with any of the others," she muttered with a humorous snort, "Hopefully none of them snores TOO loudly. Just may have to go out and sleep on TOP of the car." At least joking to herself took her mind off of the way her heart still beat quickly, after the conversation.
"I hope the two of you have a nice ride," the maned wolf waitress could be heard saying to the adventurers with a polite smile on her face. It was hard to tell if the smile was genuine or from her business, but at least one thing to be thankful for was that they hadn't been kicked out for the slightly bedraggled way they looked. Aisha just nodded back, ready to head back to the cars when things were done with.
'I sort of doubt it. I haven't seen a spell from you yet that isn't palpable half a mile away,' Stygian commented back at Kerya. 'So it seems we'll have to put some work in there as well, if we can afford the bloody time.' He shook his head and grunted. 'But all that is rather irrelevant right now. As Cog said, it's starting to seem like a good time to get to sleep. If one can, that is. I think the train is going to be starting on the high-speed stretch anytime now, as soon as we're out in the mainlands.'
Pausing to look out through the window at the racing landscape, the bat tensed a bit in his seat. He undid the top buttons of his shirt and slipped off his jacket, then stood and stuck his hands in his pockets, gazing for a while, before turning back to the others.
'I'm sorry for getting you all into this, if it turns out to be all my fault anyway. And I apologize for being less than agreeable. But as I'm sure you understand, the situation is pretty uncomfortable,' he said, giving them a slightly bitter look. 'Let's just finish here and think on it all.'
"Magic-users should be distant anyway." the silver wolf smiled at Kerya. "And certainly a little color when testing it can be forgiven. Besides." He tipped his hat. "A little flash can be intimidating sometimes. There are times and places for such."
"Speaking of times and places..." Cog said, looking around and coughing, before quieting and listening to the bat's statement.
"Well, I for one have found this...agreeable." Cog looked at the bat for a moment. "Most agreeable. Much better than if I was by myself. The least I can do is provide assistance in return."
Cog didn't quite elaborate on what he meant, although in his mind he was running through Stygian's and Laertes battle through his head.
The wolf yawned.
...Keaton:Keaton wasn't sure if she was entirely convinced by Kerya's reassurances, still keeping her devious smile under consideration, but regardless she dismissed any worries with a noncommittal shrug. Any paranoia she'd have after that grin was irrational, even for
her. It wasn't like the stoat was going to slaughter her when her back was turned, and besides, what could the pipsqueak do?
That question seemed to be answered in the next moment. Keaton watched with some amazement as the stoat in front of her weaved together an intricate, empyreal strand of glistening sparks and flashing lights, a colorful sphere inflating around her upper body like an oily-iridescent halo. Once the spell's afterglow faded and Keaton was left staring safely back at Kerya, she nodded her assent and hesitantly extended her mental influence again, studying Kerya's defenses from the outside.
"Good, good," Keaton murmured attentively. "Seems to be a nice structure you have here, but I can't really know until I get in close. Hold still for a minute, will you? I'll check it out. Gimme a minute, Cog."
Retracting her probing, Keaton kneeled behind Kerya, then gently rested both of her hands on her temples. Spreading her fingers, Keaton started to concentrate, once more allowing her mental influence to expand and unravel invitingly, welcoming Kerya's own so she could thoroughly examine the newly-forged barrier. Face-to-face with Kerya's defenses, Keaton narrowed her eyes, an eldritch light igniting within her irises and subtly flaring along the lengths of her fingers, and focused, honing in on that ephemeral wall...
---
...Deirdre:In the other cabin, Deirdre had comfortably situated herself on one of the sofas, angling her sword, sheathed in its scabbard, toward the ground and leaning on the pommel. After her conversation with Richard, she was starting to feel somewhat relaxed and adapted to her predicament - it wasn't a favorable one, not by a long shot, but if she cooperated she was certain she wouldn't face an early (well, earlier than preferred) demise. Before she could open her mouth to say something next, she felt something telltale tug at the back of her mind, yanking herself out of her pacified state and back into high alert, indicated by the upright position of her ears and her widened eyes.
Deirdre had plenty of experience in magic, so she could detect spells - when they were in close proximity and gave off a strong enough pulse - when they were cast. She couldn't tell whether it was hostile or not, but the instant that magical presence flared, it had her attention garnered. Deirdre narrowed her eyes, throwing her head to the door, then kept her ears perked.
Much to her dismay, she heard a rather familiar, raspy voice speak, muffled on the other end of the door, and felt another surge of magic.
FRIG! Deirdre mentally cursed, grabbing her sword by its handle and leaping to her feet, bounding over to the door and throwing it open. Before Richard could interfere, she was out the door and on the other side, looking quite panicked and still bedraggled from her being jostled about previously, her eyes locking onto Keaton's form. The jackal was kneeling next to a stoat woman Deirdre recognized from before, her hands leveled around the stoat's temples, illuminated brightly with wavering slivers of orange-gold light.
Moving swiftly, the Gryphon jerked her sword forward, still sheathed, and leaped at the jackal, whose concentration snapped away from the stoat's head and up, wide-eyed, at the incoming avian. "Get
AWAY!" Deirdre snarled, bringing her sword down in mid-air -
- with a loud, resounding crack, the scabbard impacted Keaton's back, not with the intention of killing, but to disable. Caught off-guard, and with the force of the blow, Keaton was slammed to the ground with a guttural cry, the dying vestiges of her spell crackling and glistening along her fingers just before they extinguished. Using her wings as brakes, Deirdre flapped her wings in order to safely gauge her landing, then spun around to face the jackal, who was writhing on the ground and cursing liberally, attempting to clutch what would certainly become a very nasty bruise in the near future.
"FUCKING HELL! FUCKING HELL!" Keaton shouted from on the floor, eyes squeezed shut, "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR, YOU GIANT BITCH?!"
"Quit your whining!" Deirdre snarled in retaliation, drawing her sword back up and clenching the scabbard in her hand. Fortunately, it had not sustained any damage from its weighty reunion with Keaton's back. "It could have been much worse. You're lucky I didn't use my sword, when you were trying to -"
"WHEN I WAS TRYING TO CHECK HER MIND SHIELDS?!" Keaton yelled, then returned to her grotesque mantra of curses in-between nursing her back.
Deirdre went very silent. Her sword slid back into the scabbard with an imperceptible snap. She blinked, staring down at the writhing jackal, then at the stoat she thought she was supposed to save.
"...fuck."
That was the second time Deirdre had said that word today.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The whole scene might have been amusing to watch for a sadist. But it was late, there was nothing fun in the interruption and most of all, it was very loud. The latter was what immediately ticked Stygian off the most, and made him spin around, ears laying back and face caught in a snarl.
'On the other hand, I think I know two who could very easily sleep together with you in the dining car, Cog,' the bat hissed, eyes going numbingly cold and passing between both Keaton and Deirdre. 'And I said finished, since I think we have had quite enough of both magic and vociferousness for one evening!' He stepped in between the both of them, his dark gaze awling its way into their respective heads and forcing even Keaton to look up at him after she'd finished a couple of hisses between her teeth.
Before either of the two women beside him could say anything, Stygian bent down and lifted Keaton by the neck of her clothes and a bit of fur as well. Then he did the same to Deirdre. Practically lifting the both of them until the tips of their toes danced on the floor, he turned back to the others, Mel and Kerya in particular.
'I think that we should go to bed now. Let's try and get a fresh start in the morning. Meanwhile,' he said, and then hissed between his teeth as he turned to Keaton and Deirdre, 'you two can calm down. Because if either of you disturb my sleep, I will see if you can get any rest hanging from the side of the train.' His obsidian eyes turned back and forth between them both.
'You, Turkey,' the bat continued, when he felt that he had scared them both enough, and rustled Deirdre lightly, 'can try and realize that you shouldn't overcompensate so much with that sword, and think about why she would try and invade someone's mind with us all sitting right here. And you, Yappy...' He turned to Keaton, gripping her scruff a bit more and giving her the same treatment. 'You're going to think about being nicer to people like her so things like this don't happen again, and to not be so fucking loud!'
Without waiting for some sort of confirmation or comment from either of them, Stygian dropped the two women, and then placed a hand on the back of each one, pushing them out into the corridor and shutting the door temporarily, before turning against Mel and Kerya again, now with a hastily composed and deceptively mild smile on his face.
'As for you,' he started, pausing as he thought he noticed a bit of a reaction from them too, but catching up quickly. 'I bid you a good night. Keep an eye on those two. If they keep you from sleeping, let me know in the morning.' He then slid the door open a bit and stood aside, bowing slightly.
...Keaton and Deirdre:
It was quite likely that after Deirdre's revelation, Keaton would have turned on the unfortunate heroine and attempted to rip her limb from limb regardless of who was present in the room. Considering her history, her temperament, and her solution to every persistent problem which fell in her path - something Deirdre knew very well - it wouldn't have been much of a surprise. Before Keaton could lurch to her feet and act upon those impulses, however, Stygian reacted, intercepting the battle-that-could-have-been by scooping both jackal and Gryphon off of the ground, holding them suspended over the floor by the scruffs of their necks. Deirdre yelped in protest, reaching up to paw at the large hand restraining her neck, while opposite from her, Keaton thrashed and snarled, only for her to be silenced by a very harsh, insidious glare from Stygian's eyes.
The effect was immediate. Both women stopped, staring at him. Deirdre's eyes were wide, her ears flat; while Keaton's expression was mirrored into something near-identical, although characterized by a slight, indignant petulance unbefitting of her centuries-old age. She looked like she wanted to complain, but her words had been petrified in their tracks, leaving her only to lukewarmly glower at the bat clutching her neck.
He addressed the both of them, then deposited the two on the ground unceremoniously, ejecting them out the door before either one could complain. All Deirdre did was yelp and flap her wings a bit, clutching her sword to her chest, while Keaton barked out a curse and craned her head around, trying to protest more actively. "But - but - it was HER -"
The door was closed in her face.
"...fault," Keaton finished lamely. Her ears plastered close to her head as she glared furiously at the door, clearly seething with rage and humiliation at being chastised.
Bitterly spitting out a curse, she whirled away from the door, then turned to glower at Deirdre. The ex-Adventurer was looking quite scared into pacification and disheveled, resorting to flattening her appearance down to something semi-presentable. Innocuous as her actions were, they somehow infuriated Keaton, and she stormed over to the source of her ire, jabbing her finger in front of Deirdre's face.
"I don't see why Styg decided to bring you along, bitch," Keaton hissed, "But consider yourself lucky. If he hadn't interfered, I would have slit your fucking throat six hundred different ways before any one of them would've reacted, understand?"
At first Deirdre merely stared at Keaton in response, befuddled - then her ears flattened and she returned the glare defiantly, face fixated in a snarl. "Save your empty threats, Keaton," she spat, her hand gripping the stylized pommel of her sword. "I'm going to be civil. You should at least give me that courtesy."
In Deirdre's face, Keaton merely grinned, swiping her finger in a clean line in front of Deirdre's eyes, invisibly tracing the thin line subtly cleaving through the semi-opaque membrane. "You know as well as I do that my threats aren't empty."
There was a momentary silence, then, before Deirdre could react angrily, Keaton jauntily waved to her and trotted away, her voice mockingly light, spitefully teasing. "Anyhoo, I don't need to sleep, but I'll be going to bed, seeing as there's nothing to do on this moving shithole. Better keep good on your promise to be civil, Deirdre!"
And with that, Keaton mirthfully sat down, deliberately placing herself at the sofa at the other end of the cabin. Deirdre merely stood there, absorbing the enormity of Keaton's words, then, as her face contorted into a caricature of pure anger, she whirled away and clamped her hand over her mouth and screamed, stifling her rage through that single exclamation. Her fists clenched and her expression depicting endless frustration, Deirdre trudged over to another seat and dropped down, resting her sword on the ground, and buried her head in her hands, seething.
Keaton smiled to herself. Deirdre's rage would sustain her nicely through the night.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Things went too fast; Richard really couldn't keep up with everything that happened until after the fact. Gonna have to watch those two pretty damn close.
"Anyone else think that it is a damn stupid idea, making those two share a room?" The undead leaned into the room with the others and jerked a thumb after Those Two, "We're trying to keep a low profile; 'Cubi and Gryphon Murder/Suicide Amongst Pack of People Fleeing City' is an attention grabbing headline. But what do I know?" it could be tricky to tell when the mutilated-looking man was grinning, or in this case smirking. "Could be lucrative. Find some jello to have them settle their differences in and we could sell tickets." He leaned against a nearby wall. "So, what set Deirdre off?"
Mel's face was very solemn but her eyes still held a touch of amusement as she bowed a good night to the men remaining in the cabin. "If they do not cool down on their own as an ice mage I can always offer to assist. If they look a bit frostbitten in the morning you will know why."
She moved down the tiny train hallway to the adjoining cabin and found the jackal and the griffon in neutral corners and quiet. Still seething, but at least doing it quietly. Mel reached over Keaton's head and lowered the upper bunk. Unclasping her belt pouch she tossed it up onto the bunk then quickly followed. Removing her long grey suede coat she somehow managed to store it in the small, hand sized bag. Her tall boots followed. As she removed the blue silk tunic that had somehow come through the pouring rain soft and without a single watermark she commented to no one, "Aisha and Gareeku have not returned from the dining car. Hopefully they merely stopped on the observation car to stare at the moon and have not found trouble so soon."
Reaching one last time into the pouch Mel pulled an enormous blue velvet quilt from within. Not a mere luxury her own blanket would keep her cool instead of warm. Wrapping it around herself until only her nose and eyes were visible the disguised dragon laid down to sleep.
'Goodnight, Mel' Stygian offered, before walking away and settling down in his seat again, sighing and rubbing his temple. He chuckled halfheartedly at Richard's last suggestion. If the undead commented at that...
'Keaton was about to pry a little at Kerya's mind-shields. And I guess we can conclude from Dee's reaction that she's at least a decent mage,' he said, thumbing his earring a bit. 'And no, letting them share a room is not really stupid. Deirdre might learn a lesson or two, and Keaton gets to work on that bloody emotionality of hers. She could very much need that. And my threat should be enough to keep them both down.' Then he growled a bit, as he had no problem hearing what Keaton said next in the adjacent cabin. 'We'll just have to put up with it for a while...' he added.
Kerya was just beginning to get used to the feeling of Keaton poking and prodding at her new shields — although she was quite sure she would never get to like it — when everything went wrong.
Whatever spell the jackal used produced a distinct glow in her fingertips as they lay on Kerya's head, so she closed her eyes to shut out the distraction. This also allowed her to concentrate on how the shield felt from the inside. It was oddly familiar, and it took her a moment to realise why. Back in Haszal, the rabbit 'Cubi had been "speaking" in her head, taunting and threatening her. Behind the rabbit's odd non-voice, she had sensed the same faint haze, very slightly deadening sounds from the rest of the hall. If the rabbit had set up a shielding spell of her own, to prevent anyone else from interfering with her plans for Kerya, that was one very good sign that her own spell had been built along the same principles and was probably working properly.
Which raised the question, she suddenly realised, of how Sebastian had known to intervene, disrupt the rabbit's spells, and free her...
The sudden crash of the cabin door bursting open scattered her thoughts. She'd just opened her eyes to see what was going on when she heard shouting, then a loud thump, and Keaton collapsed, her muzzle trailing down Kerya's back. There was a lot of shouting after that, but the little stoat was too distracted for a minute to pay attention to it: something was skittering and clawing at the outside of her new shield. All she could see at first was a swirling orange-yellow haze, which slowly began to clear after a few seconds. She realised it was Keaton's spell, disrupted when something happened to the jackal. It was fading naturally, but too slowly — she had to find out what was happening. Just as she'd done in the club, Kerya grabbed hold of the disrupted spell and drained it. The haze soon faded away, but now the little stoat had another problem. Two Sebastians held up two birdlike creatures and two Keatons by the scruffs of their necks. She blinked. By the time the Sebastians threw the other four out of the cabin, her vision was starting to clear, but she still felt dizzy.
"I am coming too, Mel, I need a rest after all this excitement." She picked up her staff and her bag, nodded politely two feet to the left of Sebastian, Richard and Cog, and followed the snow leopard. She only walked into the door frame once. In the other cabin, she pulled open an unoccupied bed and sat back on it with a sigh of relief.
Listening to Aisha speak, Gareeku smirked somewhat.
"Yeah. It's quite eventful." the wolf replied, gathering his things before leaving money to pay for the meals.
"Keep the change." he said to the waitress, before walking to where the pantheress was.
Listening to Aisha speak of the possibility of people snoring in their speak, Gareeku rolled his eyes somewhat.
"If they do, then I'm going to shut them up." the wolf replied.
Cogidubnus was watching Kerya and Keaton's various magical spells interact with each other with a sort of impatient curiosity. Lights emanated out from the Cubi's hands and seemed to mingle with the colored inkdrop spirals of Kerya's own mindshield. Curling around each other, the Jackals lighter-colored threads of magic were seeming to slide off the stoats own when suddenly the Gryphon from before, Dierdre, walked into the room and seemed to almost wilt at the sight of Keaton's hands around the stoat's face. She panicked, the sight apparently incensing her greatly, and smacked the Jackal across the skull with her sword.
Cogidubnus watched the ensuing fight silently, a single eyebrow raising at the debacle. Keaton and Deirdre looked about ready to scratch each other's eyes out when Stygian broke up the fight rather quickly, and picked them both up by the scruff of their necks. A few rather menacing words later, and he threw them both outside the car. Mel and the others soon followed, and Cog bowed to Kerya on the her way out.
"They'll probably be fine. I'd be surprised if either of them really have the energy to cause much trouble." Cog said, slipping the bed out from the couch. It was one of those rather thinly padded, uncomfortable numbers with a single sheet and a very thin, blue woolen blanket for warmth. Cog sighed to himself, and tossed his hat on the bed as he began to undress.
"Besides, Mel seems a rather reasonable sort. I'd think twice before disturbing a dragon's sleep, anyway."
Cog kicked his shoes under the bed and hung his coat on a nearby doorknob before crawling into the freezing sheets, and attempted to see if the beds in the cars were any more comfortable than the booths in the dining car.
Chuckling, the bat undid his white silken tie, and loosened his collar, starting to slip off his jacket. A pair of other people were approaching, somewhat silently but not quite as their balance was slightly disrupted by the swaying of the train as it came out of a turn. Just a few steps were off, before returning to practiced smoothness, inaudible to him again, especially through the sound of the wheels against the tracks under them. That was probably Aisha and Gar coming back.
'Reasonable is the nice way to put it,' the bat said with a smirk, standing up and walking over to hang the jacket on a hook by the small locker-like wardrobe by the door. The tie came next. 'Cold does not begin to describe that one, for good or bad.' He chuckled. 'She'll keep them on their toes and shivering, trust me.'
Slipping his shirt off and hanging it together with the rest of the things in the room, Stygian undid his ponytail and ruffled his hair and the mane-like scruff just above his tight shoulder muscles. His top exposed, pallidly and velveteen-smoothly cream-furred and athletically built, the fit of his suit got a visible reason. Not really much larger than many other men, he was nevertheless lean and smoothed out and toned in a way most rare to find. It was as if one had taken the build of a normal man, then boiled off the fat and lengthened and perfected the lines, and slapped on hard and wiry-strong muscle to cope for the weight loss, and then some for good measure. The kind of build that only dancers and martial artists, those who move and work hard and constantly, ever develop. It also gave ample view of the inky black, sharp-edged tattoo covering his right arm, edging up onto his back and neck. And of the two large, vertical scars, folds in his fur, situated against his shoulder blades. Precisely where the primary wings of a Cubi, or those of a Demon or Angel, would have been based.
'It's not a bad thing to pair them together either. Deirdre's an adventurer,' he continued, undoing his belt and slipping down his pants past his short, pointy tail and cotton boxers, over shapely hips and equally muscled legs, laying them on the side of the bed-sofa he had now marked as his own. 'And Keaton especially needs to learn to be more careful. Not necessarily nice, but careful, and considerate of her own actions. That girl thinks way too much with only the right side of her brain.'
As Aisha looked out towards the cabins, her ears had suddenly caught more disturbances toward the first car where everyone else seemed to be gathered...the rattling of the train's wheels on the metal rails and the smooth growl of the engine was hindering even her own sensitive hearing, but at one point she thought she heard yelling. And then there were shapes heading back into the second car, going quiet again.
That was when she heard Gareeku's comment as he came back, and that made her bark out a laugh. "Y'know what, I think everyone might appreciate that if so," she smirked, walking back towards the cars, only stopping to balance herself when the train turned. "Of course all I hope is that nobody's going to be fighting along the way either. I'll shut them up too, then." The last part was said in all seriousness. Ever since they departed it seemed that there was some unresolved issues between a few of the party members. If they were going to be traveling together, they were going to be working as a team, one way or another.
"Here we are," she yawned as soon as they reached the second car, where they had put their things. Again over the roar of the train it was hard to tell, but it seemed like everyone in the rooms had finally gone quiet. Silently, she pulled open the door, looking around to see if there was nobody was on the floor in their path, before stepping in and setting her stuff on an unoccupied couch-bunk near a window, opposite from where the others were nearly clustered and, it was thought, sleeping. A spacious, quiet corner. "Finally."
...Keaton and Deirdre:
Despite the previous confrontation, Deirdre and Keaton had remained in their respective places when Mel entered the cabin. Deirdre was seated on the very edge of the sofa, her body tense and taut and her hands nestled atop her sword's pommel, the scabbard-sheathed length of the blade itself leaning against the floor like a cane. Aside from the ruffled appearance of her hair and the slight prominence of the lines subtly tracing her eyes, she bore no marks of her earlier breakdown; face schooled into a disciplined mask of silence.
Keaton, meanwhile, didn't bother hiding how pleased she was at pettily and proverbially slapping Deirdre and kicking her while she was down. Her back was audaciously facing Deirdre's from where she was sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, her own face mirroring nothing short of content glee. Quiet and defiant as Deirdre seemed, Keaton was absorbing a smörgåsbord of varying degrees of anger radiating off of the Gryphon's stonily-still form.
Funny thing with Keaton. She could never be happy without pushing someone else in the dirt.
Once Mel had unloaded her quilt and had comfortably cocooned herself in its voluminous folds in the bunk overhead, Keaton decided to test her limits even more. Crossing one leg over the other, Keaton folded her arms behind her head, then leaned back, visibly luxuriating in the perpetually-smoldering ambiance of Deirdre's emotions.
Deirdre witnessed this wordless mocking out of the corners of her eyes, but merely narrowed her eyes and hunched her shoulders. Keaton detected her anger petering out into a small, fizzling sputter, one which was short-lived but quite satisfactory in that condensed burst of fury, then decided to end her games by closing her eyes. She knew Deirdre wouldn't try to kill her in her sleep.
Deirdre, on the other hand, wasn't sure if she could grant Keaton that same confidence.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
After a minute or so of leaning back in the bed, seemingly half asleep, Kerya's eyes blinked open. She sighed heavily, sat up and looked around the cabin. When she spotted the bird-thing sitting on one of the other sofas her ears perked up, and her tail flicked back and forth once.
"I see our merry band has another new member," she said, with a slight edge in her voice. "Who are you? I cannot continue to call you the bird-thing, or the big angry turkey. And why did you attack Keaton?"
The little stoat snorted in annoyance. "The way you charged in, anyone would think you expected to find her devouring me where I sat..."
...Deirdre:
Tense-bodied and razorbladed of gaze, Deirdre seemed almost relentless in her vigil, up until she heard a near-inaudible shuffling and rustling of leather, one which indicated Keaton turning away and diverting her attention away from the decidedly uninteresting emotional antics of the Gryphon. Finally feeling some form of sanctity, Deirdre nearly sighed out of relief, but kept her emotions as smothered as possible. Still didn't know if Keaton was still spying on her, after all.
An oddly melancholy expression drifted over Deirdre's features as she leaned her chin against her hands, stifling another sigh. She would have been absolutely content to staying there for some time, finding some comfort in the fact Keaton wouldn't assault her with Mel sleeping over them, if it wasn't for Kerya's sudden appearance. One look at the agitated stoat and Deirdre's face fell flat, her ears falling back and her eyebrows furrowing over her half-lidded eyes. The rather diminutive stoat was speaking rather abrasively, considering her poorly-veiled epithets, but Deirdre was uncertain if she could safely lay any blame on Kerya's behavior. Regardless of any understanding, however, Deirdre felt some form of defensive rebuttal swelling inside of her, which she attempted to quell as she spoke.
"Your group does have a new member, whether I like it or not," Deirdre said, keeping her voice as even as possible, then cut right to the chase. "I - look, I really am..." she sighed, fighting back her irritation. "I am sorry. I sincerely thought I was trying to... well... save your life. I thought she was, well, doing something to you." A momentary pause, then she threw up her hand, her other one still gripping her sword. "It wasn't my most rational or intelligent moment, okay? But I don't have the most pleasant history with Keaton.
"That's irrelevant, though. I truly am sorry. I didn't mean to cause you any harm," Deirdre concluded her apology with a sigh, reaching up to massage her right temple. "God. One minute I'm telling someone I'm nothing like the brainless hack-and-slashers who I've had the misfortune of working with, the next minute I'm acting just like one."
She paused again, then added, almost as a distant afterthought, "And to answer your earlier question, I'm Deirdre. But I guess after my earlier actions you're free to continue calling me whatever, as long as you keep it creative."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya's ears flicked alternately back and forth as she listened to Dierdre's apology. At the end she nodded and gave a small, tight smile. "Very well, Dierdre. I am Kerya. I know what you mean, I seem to be having a day like that myself. Only a few marks ago I was preparing for a meeting at that club back in Haszal with another mage — who then attacked me. Sebastian aided me in extricating myself, and I think the rest you know, if you were in the club as well."
...Deirdre:
Any apprehension Deirdre felt during the dismal moments before Kerya gave her that tight, hesitant smile dissolved, quite gratefully. The Gryphon's ears angled backwards inquisitively, then she sighed. Good thing she had apologized. The last thing she needed was to create any unnecessary enemies in this... an action which was contradictory to her behavior which landed her in this mess initially. Whether or not Kerya had relieved Deirdre of any resentment was uncertain, but it was a start.
Deirdre laced her fingers together, then she returned the smile, with equal tightness. "I was in the club, yes, but I'm not really as informed about the situation as the rest of you are," she explained, "When you get right down to it I was sort of a bystander dragged into the conflict. Seems you are, too..." A hasty addendum to that statement, "...no offense intended."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"None taken, Dierdre," Kerya replied with a laugh that turned into a yawn. After a moment she blinked and scratched the back of her right ear. "Anything more shall have to wait on tomorrow, m' tired..." she murmured through another jaw-cracking yawn. She pulled the dagger out of her sash and slipped it under the pillow. The sash itself was next to come off, although when she unhooked it, her dress slipped and developed a list to one side from the damage it had taken when Dierdre's car crashed. Through another yawn she scribed a faintly glowing circle in the air above the foot of the bed. She picked up the bag of stuff she'd bought back at the railway station, fished out a small package and tipped everything else — brightly coloured fluffy beach towels and t-shirts, apparently — into the circle.
Finally she wriggled out of the dress and held it up, frowning at the rips and strained seams, before she yawned and tossed it into the circle as well. A wide belt around her waist supported several small pouches and bags; she unhooked it, rolled it up and laid it beside the sash. One last cavernous yawn accompanied a wriggling stretch that ran the length of her body. She scratched vigorously at the exposed fur between the three bands around her chest and stomach, then she curled up into a ball of fur and pulled the sheet over herself, leaving only the end of her snout poking out. Within seconds, the little stoat was snoring quietly.
A couple of minutes later, the glowing circle shimmered and slowly began to extrude something made of soft grey cloth, piling it up at the foot of the bed.
Cog muttered something affirmative to the bat, seemingly already in the throes of sleep. Apparently one could fall asleep on the rather uncomfortable and cold looking beds, and after only a moment of moving his feet around he found a comfortable position to fall asleep in. It wasn't long before the wolf ceased to move, and with his eyes closed, it became impossible to tell if he was awake or not anymore - his breath being perhaps the only indicator that he might cling to consciousness. Even that too began to shallow, and the wolf fell well and truly asleep.
Just about to ask what was fogging up the windows, Stygian stopped and listened in to the conversation in the other cabin for a while, his sharp ears perking and swiveling just a little. Then he shook his head and looked over his shoulder at Cog, and sat down on his bed. Scratching his neck slightly, he yawned, displaying wicked teeth, and then pulled the sheets aside, laying back down and enjoying a bit of chill before he pulled them up over himself. Thinking about how events had just transpired and the rest of the group, he concluded they had all not been too pressured just yet, but they were taking things very levelly. And not thinking too hard about them just yet.
That will change though, I can imagine, he thought to himself. The gears are finally grinding to work again, at last.
Finally closing his dark eyes, the bat exhaled in a very long, drawn out sigh, and relaxed, falling down into the comfortable darkness of sleep.
Listening to Aisha's response to his own comment, Gareeku smirked slightly as she spoke.
"Makes things more interesting, though." The wolf replied. "But yes. It won't help with our dilemma at all. They had better learn to get along, otherwise they should go out on their own. I for one am not prepared to put up with their bullshit."
After saying his piece as the two of them made their way towards the cabins, Gareeku glanced to the side, looking out of the window at the scenes rushing past as the train sped through the landscape. It seemed to be such a peaceful night, that one could easily forget what situation the group was in, and what danger came with it. The moon shone as brightly as ever as trees and hills whisked past the window, the only seemingly unchanging object outside of the train.
It was then that, upon turning his head away from looking out of the passing windows, the wolf found that they had arrived at the cabin in which they were to rest inside, Aisha pointing that fact out as they walked up to the cabin's door.
It did indeed seem like everyone in the rooms had finally gone quiet after their bickering and discussions as Aisha silently opened the door. Like the pantheress, Gareeku wasn't sure whether the peace and quiet was in fact due to the roar that the travelling train made. Looking around in the darkness as Aisha checked that nobody was on the floor and thus in their way, the wolf stepped inside after the pantheress had done so.
Watching as Aisha set her stuff down on an unoccupied couch-bunk near the window, Gareeku collected up his hooded cloak, putting it back on over his shoulders. Pulling the hood up over his head as he pulled the rest of the cloak around him, the wolf then sat down on the floor beside the head of the couch-bunk, resting against the wall as he bowed his head. Gareeku had slept this way nearly every night for the past two years, having never stopped travelling due to the fact that he had no home to go to, along with the fact that 9 times out of 10, he had been no where a place to stay. It was safe to say that by now, the lupine warrior was quite used to it. Hearing the pantheress' word, the wolf replied with an "Mm" as he sat there.
In the dark quiet of the room, another yawn escaped Aisha's jaws as she prepared herself for sleep, removing her own hooded cape and collar to rest it over the rim of the couch where she had also placed her belt and attached weapons. Though it would be rather hard to be attacked on a train, the cautious huntress still had a habit of putting them within easy reach.
She took her time in doing so, allowing Gareeku to find his own place within the cabin. Outside of the window above the head of the couch, she observed, the night was streaming along peacefully, and the light of the moon shining through the window with all of its blessings of hope. The panthress hoped that they wouldn't have to get there so soon as to wake up early.
As Aisha sat on the bed, she glanced over at the wolf, who had taken a place on the floor next to the head of it, his eyes hidden by the hood of his cloak as he waited for sleep to come. She tilted her head...like Gareeku, as a traveling adventurer, she too was used to sleeping in less-than-perfect conditions for it, and could understand. Yet still her concern for him showed once more...how long since he had a good sleep, other than when they were at the inn.
Instead of pulling out the bed part of the sofa, Aisha decided to sleep on it as it was, using her own cloak for a blanket. As she took it over herself and started to lay down, just before going to sleep, her hand reached over and lightly pulled a portion of Gareeku's hood back so she could see his eyes. He was met with a rather sleepy, though soft, smile. "Good night and good dreams, amigo."
As he sat there, with his hooded cloak wrapped over him, Gareeku closed his eyes, trying to head off to sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he had experienced a decent night's sleep. Trying to rest outside in his travels, the wolf reguarly experienced disturbed nights, and at times he was lucky to get any sleep at all. Still, he tried, and sometimes he would get a good few hours worth of rest in.
As he closed his eyes, it wasn't long before Gareeku felt his hood shift. Opening his eyes to see who or what is was, the lupine warrior found that Aisha had gently pulled the hood aside to look at him, gazing at him with a soft and sleepy smile. Hearing her goodnight, Gareeku nodded his head as the corner of his mouth turned up slightly into a slight smile.
"Goodnight, and rest well, Aisha." the wolf replied, before pulling his hood forward once more, closing his eyes once again as the lupin warrior tried to get himself to fall asleep.
...
- -
The crackling of flames was everything she could hear, and the soft scent of burning wood mixed ill together with a rancid, sickening other smell. Aisha recognized much of it, even though she didn't think about it. The thick, sweet edge of it, she knew very well. Her father had tarred the wooden steps to their house the summer before the last one, and the pleasant odor had reminded her of coming home ever since. A murky part of it reminded her of what she sometimes felt from the kitchen, when her mother was cooking. All the good feelings were taken out of it though, by a stinging, ashy dryness that made her eyes and nose sting and blur. She could barely see through the tears.
She had seen the main street of the village a thousand times. She had walked down it again and again. Even the darkest night had not been able to make the familiar place seem threatening to her. She knew it too well. And little Isha, as her mother had called her, had learned early on that she saw and heard much too well for that also. That's why she could smell so clearly, even when her breath came in ragged, wet gasps. That's why she always won when she played hide and seek with the neighbor's kids, why she never got lost and why her father would sometimes let her go down to the lake to play and bathe, even when it was getting late and she had no one to go with her. She was so sure of herself, little Isha, her father used to say, half with reproach but with a pride in his voice that always made her smile. But not now. The little girl who was running down the main street now might as well have been someone entirely different. She hoped she were, and that she were not. She hoped that she would just wake up.
It did seem like a dream. Between her itching eyes and the roaring in her ears, the swimming light and the thick darkness, she thought it must be. But she didn't have dreams like that. And even in the bad ones, the ones that made her wake up crying and running to her parents' bedroom, she never felt so tired, and her legs never hurt like they did right then. But it had to be. They couldn't be burning. The houses couldn't be burning. They had stood where they were forever. She remembered, and nothing in the little town had ever changed. She would wake up, and she would stay up, just so she could go out and look at it in the morning, at first light. She would go down the curve from their house, where she could see the orchards underneath the sun in the mornings, and down behind the hill right onto the way into town. Old Manuel's house would be right there, and he would be out on the porch before anyone else as always, and he would be standing by the saddle that was always on the railing and smoking his pipe before he rode off to work. The burning, skeletal frame that stood where his house should be to her right wasn't really there...
A crumbling, breaking sound made her look up, and just a second later her breath caught in a quick yelp, before she tumbled over and into the mud that had formed from water spilling out from a toppled barrel. A sour, oily stench hit her and made her blurry eyes water even more, as she pushed herself up, the black fur on her arms soiled with muck. Debris lay all around her, and a burning section of ceiling had fallen down the porch, laying down over the stairs and a big, dark lump of cloth that...
She could not help herself. She screamed. Dirt and small, sharp stones scraping and raking her bare feet, Aisha ran, leaping over the scorched beams and heading away into the nearest alley, leaving the burning house and the stiff, broken arm sticking out from underneath the wreckage. Had it been moving? Had it been reaching for her? She hadn't seen. And what could she do? Her father could have done something, but he...
A sharp pang of pain somewhere deep down made her close her eyes, and push her aching legs into an even harder run. She didn't know where the pain came from. Didn't know, because she refused to know. But actually, she just wished she didn't...
Defying the towering, flame-entwined shapes everywhere, hollow and smashed windows and wooden frames glaring at her like burning, skeletal faces, she ran. She ran and ran, even though her lungs ached with the smoke, and her calves felt as if they were burning. And she forced herself not to look, not to hear the calls, or see the shapes laying in the street. To not see the ones hinting in between the flames as they ran and leaped, they too. They looked like they were dancing. Shadows, dancing a graceful, terrible dance of death. Around and around, through the streets, coming for her. She had never thought that flames could sound so loud.
She never heard or saw them coming. And to little Isha, who had always seen and heard, who had always been so sure and confident, the shock was almost enough to make her drop right there. But she kept on running, turning away and clenching her teeth, blocking them out even when she heard their laughter. She wished so hard that she couldn't hear them that they almost seemed gone for a while. Until a fleeting, loping shape moved up at the corner of her vision, so smoothly that it might as well have been gliding across the ground. Its eyes were glowing and its teeth bared, gleaming light amid jagged darkness in a wicked grin. And it was only the first.
Like a dancing troupe of harlequins, more laughing shapes, outlined by the flames behind them, cackling and shrieking with the thrill of the chase and the madness of the destruction around them, emerged from out of between the shadows and fire. They circled her, moving swiftly and easily up on her sides. She was aching, her heart was beating so fast that she almost felt as if her chest would burst, and she could barely feel her legs anymore. And they were high on the light of the fire and the taste of blood. She couldn't outrun them. She couldn't hide in any of the burning buildings. Even if she made it out of the village, the old woods were far away. And they already had her. They were just toying with her now, playing with their prey before they went in for the kill. Aisha had seen a cat do that once with one of the field mice that...
The realization struck her so hard that her legs finally gave out under her, and she tumbled to the ground, like a deer that gives in to exhaustion as the wolves close in. Wet, cold and too scared to even cry, she lay shaking on the ground.
She was going to die.
The silent scraping of a step came from just behind her, and she didn't even flinch. Then another, and another. She still stayed down. She felt too heavy to move. If this were a dream, then this would have been the point where she would wake up, wet and tossing. Why didn't she? It couldn't be true. It couldn't! Any second now, she would jolt up, and she would run to her parents' bedroom, and her father would be there and... Her father...
She began weeping again. She knew why. She just wished she didn't. The pain consumed her, and drowned out the voices around her. It crushed her underneath its terrible weight, blinding her to the fiery lights, numbing everything but the jagged feeling of loss that cut like a dull razor into her soul. She didn't even feel the clawed hand that grabbed her. She was a helpless bundle of pain in a burning, dark void. There couldn't be anything worse than this. There couldn't be.
The stillness that followed was so long she thought she were dead already. It was the short, desperate scream that woke her up, followed by the thud as the last figure beside her crumpled and joined the other shapes in the street. She was sitting on the ground again. The fire was still all around, shadows playing and dancing from out of the darkness. Sparks and cinders glowed like miniature stars as they drifted through the air. But somehow, all of a sudden, she felt... cold. And she knew why. She knew where it was coming from. She just wished she didn't...
'I'm sorry.'
The fire touched her.Sweating and panting, Aisha jolted up and into paining wakefulness on her bed in the train cabin. Her heart was thudding hard against her ribs, and there was a taste of blood in her mouth.
With Gareeku's wish for her to have a good night lingering in her ears as well, it took a few moments for Aisha to fall asleep with a light smile. The night was already peaceful enough...perhaps it was true that there was to be no...more...interruptions. Finally.
But as the minutes into a few hours waned on ever slowly, with complete sleep taking over the panther's mind and hopefully the wolf's, it soon became present that she was dead wrong. If tangible threats were to be thwarted, then certainly they were going to be intangible; a dream, carrying snatches of memories that bore down on her like an avalanche.
Her body barely moved in her sleep. But the smile on the feline's face vanished and her eyelids twitched and squinted...and that was followed by wave upon wave of shuddering. She's had dreams before, the same ones being drawn from memories best repressed...but none had ever been so dreadfully real. In her mind, she was right back in the village and felt the very heat as it burned...as people died...as demons raged...as her father...the blood...
It ended with the fires engulfing her. As they did, a blinding flash brought Aisha back into the living as she sprung up from the couch with a loud gasp. Teeth bared, claws digging into the fabric, gasping in ragged breaths, sweat clinging to her short fur...and her eyes wide as they registered the darkness and sent information into her fevered mind.
It was still dark...very late, probably. They were still on the train, moving smoothly. It had been a dream...but she was far from being in a state of relief. There was something about it that frightened her...more than any nightmare ever did.
"Estas bien, chica," she whispered to herself, regaining her composure while biting her lip to make sure she still wasn't dreaming. But despite that, the taste of blood still lingered on her tongue...she would write that off as perhaps having bitten it or something, when she glanced with a bit of concern over at Gareeku. Hopefully she hadn't disturbed him.
But as the light from the moon fell into the window, she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of her arm...and her eyes widened. Maybe it was the melanistic fur pattern playing tricks on her tired eyes...but she could have sworn that it looked like bits of her fur were singed...
Aisha nearly reeled, but steadied herself against the couch arm. "Oh gods..." she whimpered, shaking her head and closing her eyes, unable to look again and just trying to wait until sleep would catch up and take her someplace else, placing her head in her arms as she leaned against the couch arm. It was just a dream...it had to be. Come on, hunter, get your head back together. Like always.
"Oh gods."
There was nothing around save the thick darkness and the thrumming, pulsating sound and feeling of the train's movement underneath her feet. The sound of the breathing of the other occupants of the cabin was slow and regular, made wispy by the cold that the car walls couldn't entirely keep out. She shivered, but something, some lingering sensation of heat and a wish to cool herself almost compelled her to keep sitting.
Some time passed. She couldn't have said whether if it was a minute or five. She almost felt like laying down back under the sheets, when suddenly she heard a rasping sound from outside in the corridor.
Through the night, Gareeku stayed awake. Though he closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep, he simply could not. His body just could relax enough for it to let him slip gently into slumber. By now, however, the lupine warrio was used to it, so the fact that he could not get to sleep once more did not come as a surprise to him at all. Just the same old restless night.
Suddenly his eyes darted to the side of him, the blue orbs being completely hidden thanks to the dark shadows that the hooded cloak that was wrapped around him created. Without moving at all, not even turning his head in the slightest, Gareeku saw that Aisha had bolted upright, now fully awake. From where he sat up against the wall, he could see the look in her eyes; it was one of almost fear. Observing her as she sat there wide awake with that look in her eyes, he wolf knew that the panthress must have seen some quite horrible and/or terrifying in her sleep.
It was then, however, that his eyes suddenly darted the other way, now looking towards the door. A rasping sound could now be heard from outside in the corridor, and when he glanced back to Aisha, he knew that he wasn't the only one who had heard it.
Leaning against the couch, Aisha after a while slowly looked up and glanced around, putting her arms behind her back as if in fear of looking at them again. At least the quiet hadn't been deafening...the train still rumbled along and people still slept, it was assumed, never heeding the panther that was jarred by a nightmare.
She sighed after nothing came again...hesitant to go back to sleep as she wrapped her arms around herself...not from the cool air, but from the fear that lingered until she became too sleepy to keep thinking about it for long. Logic still played a large part in her thinking. Nightmares were nightmares, and the darkness always played tricks with one's senses in the night...and the throes between sleep.
With a shake of her head, she reached over to pull the cloak back up when something else was heard...just outside in the corridor. Something rasping...a noise which shot adrenaline through her body and caused her to be wide awake once again.
With a gulp, the panthress rolled slowly forward on her knees and reached for her boomerang, ears kept forward like satellites. "Who's there?" she demanded in a harsh whisper, trying to guess what it might be as a foot came down on the floor.
Can't be a 'Cubi, unless they can be far away when messing with people's dreams. But if that's all it is, I'm pretty sure it'd be something of a relief, she thought...and waited.
No one answered. The sound had ended rather quickly even before Aisha could speak, but between the noise and the blurry outline she thought she could vaguely hint through the muddled glass window in the door out to the corridor, she was fairly sure that she wasn't jumping at shadows.
Turning back to look where the rasping noise had come from behind the door to the corridor, Gareeku narrowed his eyes. Either someone was playing some sort of trick, or something was lurking outside that shouldn't have been.
Something sinister.
As his eyes then flicked back to look at Aisha once more as he heard her move in her makeshift bed, the wolf watched from the shadows cast by his hooded cloak as the pantheress rolled forward on her knees, reaching for her boomerang before demanding who was behind the door in a harsh whisper as she put a foot down onto the floor of the cabin. Like Aisha, Gareeku waited for an answer.
None came.
Turning to look back at the door, the wolf then saw something, some sort of shape, behind the glass of the door's window in the corridor beyond. Unable to make out what it was, the lupine warrior's eyes then rested on his sheathed sword, which rested against the wall a short distance away, before looking back at the door, and then back at Aisha again.
Aisha fought to suppress an agitated growl, her eyes fixed firmly on the door as she awaited a response. But nothing came. Now she was restless; who or what was this thing, and what was it doing disturbing their sleep? Still the sight of the figure as it stood right out in the window sent a chill up her spine...especially when the rasping stopped.
Her hand gripped the boomerang's handle. When she was tired and edgy, nothing was going to mess with her.
"Alright then..." she muttered with finality, bunching up the muscles in her leg and pausing for just a second to assess that it wasn't going away. "Anyone wakes up from this I'll take the tongue lashing."
Using that one foot on the floor, she quickly pushed herself forward and zipped across the room to the entrance in a broad leap, throwing open the door when she landed in a swift motion and, just as swiftly, brought up her blade to catch whatever was there by surprise...if anything was there.
Rather anticlimactically, the dark figure revealed itself to be very much present, and in the way of the huntress' path, as she slid out somewhat when the sliding door opened itself more easily than she had expected. Her blade settled into a very precise threatening position at the unidentified someone's neck, but not before her elbow had bruised said person in the chest.
'Wha...?! Don't you ever sleep...?!' a familiar voice started, more growly than usual, and Stygian stared down at the panthress.
The claws on her feet worked to brake the panthress as the door opened with ease, the edge of her boomerang easily catching something on the edge of their jugular. She stood with a grimace on her face that could have put a shudder in the spines of the brave, breathing through slightly parted, gleaming teeth. It was easy to see that a portion of her had been distressed into a state of anger.
She hadn't even moved when it finally crossed her head that the one before her was the bat...her thoughts having been adamant to take his head at the beginning of the adventure, she was quite tempted to finish the thought...but instead took it back and stood up, withdrawing the blade with a snarl. "Yeah, normally, murciélago," she hissed. "But not when I have a nightmare that scares me half to death, leaves scorch marks, and leads me to hear and see things..." She nearly turned back inside, trying to glimpse through the darkness to see Gareeku's reaction, or whether or not he had even awakened. Her voice dulled to a mutter and her fingers parted sweat-ridden bangs. "Dammit, I thought you were..."
Then she turned back again, incredulity in her eyes. "Sorry about that, but what in infierno were you doing there anyway?"
The bat merely stared back at her for a short few seconds. She hadn't attributed the growl to anything significant, really, before she got a look at his face. His dark eyes seemed more sunken than usual, his fur was ruffled and stood up and she could hear his breathing clearly, something that while she didn't really notice still managed to unnerve her somehow, as it was not something that usually happened. She would have said that he looked as if he'd had a rude awakening as well. He scratched his arm as if it were itching.
'Stopped by the bathroom,' he replied, and she noticed that the ends of his hair and his face were a bit damp with water. 'I'm not really used to sleeping at night. Keep waking up all the time...' His explanation was quite easy to understand. She was more aware of his nature than most.
'It's eight hours left before our stop. I'm going to try and get at least some rest...' he continued, moving around her and toward the entry to the other cabin. He slid the door aside silently, then looked back to her. 'Goodnight.'
Aisha was quiet as she observed the bat's reaction to her rather hyped condition, which as she guessed was calm despite the way he looked. He too seemed to be awakened in a harsh way, which made the hunter back off just a little on her own aggressiveness for a more toned-down countenance. Moreover it was curiosity that made her wonder what kind of nightmare he had, or if he had any at all.
Still, slowly and surely she was just trying to let it be all but forgotten. They would have an adventure to keep up with on the morrow...and neither she nor any of the rest of the party would let a simple scare ruin their focus. Such was the discipline.
"Yeah...g'night," she nodded back to Ignatz and slid the door closed slowly, back into the darkness and solitude of the cabin...the shadows were gone, the illusions faded. But the dream would still linger in her mind until she would fall asleep again.
"Sorry, it was just the bat passing by," she whispered, figuring that perhaps by now with the noise just a bit ago that Gareeku wasn't much asleep...just in the case he wasn't. It was hard to tell...even for one used to it, sitting on a floor when a train bumped along still must not have been all that ideal. Quietly she made her way back to the sofa...but instead of laying down, she was sitting up on it with the cape covering her lap. "Ah, you can sit up here on the cushion if you want, I'm too tired to move..." she said quietly to her comrade before leaning her head back and closing her eyes, none to mindful of just falling asleep that way.
Madre de dios, no more nightmares, please, her mind begged, unintentionally in a meek voice that she'd never use aloud.
The bat watched the door to the other cabin as Aisha slid it shut, leaning on the doorframe somewhat. Then, as carefully as he could, he slid back out into the corridor, taking out the paper towel he'd slid up his sleeve and wiped away the few black spots on the floor he had made with his bare feet. As he scratched the singed fur on his ankles, he muttered and thanked his luck that she hadn't noticed the slightly ashy smell about him, or taken it for coming from her. Walking back into the men's cabin, he threw the paper in the trash bin, and then threw off his pants, all he'd been wearing, before sliding back under his sheets.
- -
The rhythmical thudding of the tracks rolling away, mile after mile underneath them had virtually disappeared as the train had picked up speed. So it was probably his own frustration and stress that thumped together with Laertes' pulse inside his head. Hours behind their quarry, heading for a large town where it would be considerably more difficult to track them than it had been in Haszal. And all the woman was thinking of was berating him for his maneuver in the club, as if that were not already over and behind them, and as if they didn't need to think constructively right then.
The Angel could not help but think that when Ace took off her regular clothes, she was still as good as dressed. After having discarded that fancy affair she had been wearing at the Red Sands, she had put on all of her usual gear as quickly as only she could, to get it with her before they boarded the train. The floorboards had creaked under her when she entered their cabin, and it was plain to see why. Though she somehow didn't appear as large as most men, she was as tall as or taller than the average, and if her form was slimmer and more slender, she was all the harder for it, because she weighed as much or more than the average man as well. Still, what
really contributed to that weight was not her iron physique, but the steel
on her.
It looked almost like a corset, the way it fit her timeglass torso snugly, but was really just a huge harness, stuffed full with an assortment of knives and blades. Two baton-like swords were strapped to her thighs, along with more of the small leaf-like knives meant for throwing, and on her arms were several spikes, foldable tools and hooks in little pocketed leather straps. In addition, both her forearms and ankles wore other studded harnesses, also with pockets and knives stuck in them, and covered in slim metal bars. Slim though they looked, Laertes had felt those harnesses, and concluded that each must have weighed fifty or sixty pounds, probably thanks to some magical metallurgy.
'You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you? And still you had to go and make a scene', she muttered with her back turned to him, in an accusatory tone. 'Why couldn't we just have gone back there, stabbed him in the heart and got it done with?' She was undoing those harnesses on her forearms now, putting them on the floor with slow and graceful movements. If she dropped one, it would probably break the floor.
Through the course of his relationship with Ace, Laertes had seen the iron corset that the woman wore numerous times. Her ability to use the thing even walking was amazing, and her prowess in combat wearing as much steel as she did was a marvel unto himself. He had often wondered how she had come to possess such remarkable skill and strength, but she had never mentioned it to him - and he had a feeling that she wouldn't want to say anyway.
He averted his eyes as she began changing. He was a gentleman, after all. Carey had gone to the dining car, he assumed, and he supposed Ace wouldn't have cared even if he hadn't.
Her question's pointedness was not lost on the angel. Leaning back smoothly into his chair, he regarded his companion thoughtfully before turning his gaze out to the night sky. He breathed in calmly, feeling the cold emanate from the windowpanes before speaking back to her, his voice careful.
"Yes, I did." he said, still not looking back at her. "And I knew what I going to do before I even saw him that night." - he finally turned, just for a moment, and looked sharply back at Ace. "Gone back there, and stabbed him in the heart? Simon Caerule? I've seen you work. Your skills are superb - unsurpassed. But in the dark back-room of a nightclub? An enclosed hallway? He would have slaughtered you."
Laertes's voice wasn't mocking or sympathetic - he simply spoke with the firmness of someone totally assured of his opinion. He continued to speak, shifting his gaze around the cabin.
"Perhaps I should have given you more warning...perhaps that was my undoing. But I do know this - you do not fight a shadow in shadows. You do not fight him in an alley or a bar. You fight him in an Amphitheater, with a thousand, thousand lights illuminating everything, with nowhere to hide, and no way to run. You fight him in the open. You fight him where he cannot hide."
He made a face. "What do you think happened to that lion woman? You and I both know she was powerful indeed. But he emerged from those back rooms with not a scratch..."
He paused, looking out again at the night sky.
In response to this, Ace simply snorted, and made a face as if she'd just tasted something very salty. Bending down and undoing the weights around her ankles, she grumbled while she thought of a retort. For someone so hard, she was also astonishingly limber.
'I wanted to face him, because between us and the lioness he wouldn't have had much of a shot. I wanted to fight him personally', she said, a hint of fury in her voice, before she dropped the harnesses to the floor with a pair of dull thumps, and turned around, scowling as if expecting to meet some hard glare of his. But of course he was turned away. She'd noticed that he was a bit stiff on the manners, sometimes. She sighed, and struggled to calm herself down, before hunching down and starting to go through her packing.
'The only reason you are this close to catching him is because of me. Do I have to remind you of that?' she said. She didn't consider it unfair. He had been hunting Stygian for a while, sure, but she had been on the bat's trace for far longer and closer. And her target was Stygian alone, while his seemed to be more than just that. He had never really involved her in all of his plans, despite the... trust that had they had worked to build. 'You and your order want him for some crime, but my reasons are personal.' She pulled out a rumpled shirt from her bag. 'I'll leave the rest to you, but if you don't let me get to him...'
She stopped, and went still. For a moment, she just sat there, rolling her thumb over the shirt fabric. Some of her knives pressed into her ribs, cold even though she'd had the 'corset' under her clothes for a while. Then, she stood up, and walked over to the Angel where he sat. Uncaring of any modesty or his manners, she placed a hand on his shoulder, prompting that he look up on her.
'Look, Laertes... I know this is important to you, but to me, it's more than just a personal wish', she said, moving closer to the jackal. The front lacing of the harness was right in his face, the hard red strings criscrossing over her silver fur. With her jet black hair falling over her eyes and her smooth muscles standing out in the dim light, she looked both intimidating and enticing. 'I have to face him, myself. And if you won't let me, I can't help you...'
Slowly, her hand began moving and her fingers rolling, stroking the jackal's neck as she looked down into his golden eyes.
The jackal's hand moved up to grab Ace's own, the priest smiling softly as he looked back into her eyes. Even then, his gaze seemed unshaken, the light reflecting from those golden orbs like softly glowing coals. There was an...eerie intensity to them, something that hinted that perhaps it was an edge not entirely safe to be around. He looked at her softly, however, a small smile creeping up on the black muzzle, showing rows of diamond-white teeth, all sharp.
"My dear..." he said, reaching up to grab the wolf's hand. His smile seemed almost sad. "I'm sorry if you feel I've... wronged you. Suffice it to say, I didn't want to see that pretty face of yours marred." he said, letting go of her hand to run a finger over her cheek lightly. His expression took on a different look then, however, his mouth somewhat pressing together and his head tilting. "But I wouldn't count on Ashtareth, my dear. That boy has garnered many...personal vendettas." he said, his voice tinged with disapproval. "It's likely she would have helped to repulse you, if only for the later pleasure herself. She is no ally of ours."
His gaze softened again. "We have discussed this. Our agreement is perfectly clear. I would have let you...vent yourself upon him, after he was safely restrained. Perhaps a twisting of our words..." he seemed to deliberate with himself, his gaze almost regretful. "But it's a moot point, now." he said, sighing. "There will be more opportunities. Many more, if I had to guess"
He took a breath, smiling at her again. "And I would embrace you, my dear, but I know your...'inventive' reputation for hiding knives." he said, brushing a bit of hair from her eyes. "Carey will be back soon, and I've been spoken for since before you were born." he said, giving her another sad smile. He leaned back.
"Your eyes are like the stars, my dear. I hope your vengeance does not change that."
Ace's hand ceased its movements, and for a moment she just stood there. An uncomfortable silence followed, and when Laertes looked up again, his fears were confirmed. Her face had hardened into an expression of anger, or possibly even disgust.
'You don't know about me or about anything I want', she hissed down at him, heatedly. She almost exposed herself, went out of her way... and he just kept up that condescending smile and offered pretty words, as if he didn't care, as if saying he could do as well without her. 'And don't pretend you do!' He insulted her! Who did he think he was?! She almost tugged at his neckfur, but instead just drew back her hand quickly and turned back to her packing. The corset came off, but that shirt was on to cover her in two seconds, and then she pulled out and put on a pair of sweatpants just as quickly. Sweeping back her jet black hair, she crossed the cabin and exited without a word.
When Aisha opened the door, Gareeku was ready to reach for his sword. However, it appeared that it was only Sebastian who was lurking around outside in the corridor. Through the bat's and the pantheress' conversation, the wolf had not moved. The slow breathing that he possessed made it look like he was asleep, even though Aisha looked back at him to see if he was awake. Still he did not stir, listening to the short conversation as he stayed still in his seated position.
When the conversation ended, Gareeku watched out of the corner of his eye as Aisha slid the cabin's door shut, before making her way back over to the sofa, but choosing to sit on it normally rather than lying down this time. From the way Aisha spoke, it sounded like she knew he was awake. This made him unconsciously raise an eyebrow. He had not given any sign that he was awake, even when Aisha had been having the conversation with Sebastian. Not to mention that the shadows over his face created by the hood of his cloak concealed any facial sign that he was awake.
After Aisha had finished talking, about a minute or so of silence passed.
"I saw you when you woke up from your sleep." the wolf finally said, thus breaking the silence and most likely causing a bit of a shock. "You saw something. What did you see?"
Aisha wondered if she could get to sleep if she even tried...the visions had been that harsh, jarring her nerves to their ends. She sat there in the darkness with half-lidded eyes. When Gareeku didn't reply to her offer, the panthress figured that he could probably have been asleep after all...when one was too tired, it wasn't all that much to tell if her guess had been correct or not.
Her ears perked when Gareeku spoke, surprised when he did. With a quiet hum to indicate that she hadn't gone to sleep, she rolled her head back up to regard the wolf. It was actually a relief after such a nightmare had befallen her mind to hear the voice of a close friend. She never minded speaking to him, especially when she wasn't all that close to falling asleep yet.
"Well..." she began. "It was a dream about the attack on my home village...I mean, I've had those before, but this was so real..." she cringed. "I could feel the heat and everything...I saw...shadowy creatures, everywhere in the flames, chasing. I don't think there were really any...but, they were there, and they got everyone in the village, I saw everyone I knew...and they got me..."
Her voice was getting slightly low towards the end. She sighed and cleared her throat. "Then I woke up and I was sweating like I had been running...and..." She pulled up her sleeve and looked at her arm under the moonlight again. There was still the appearance of singed fur in patches where the heat had consumed in her dreams. She shuddered. "I'm pretty sure it isn't real, but, I don't know how to explain these burns, then."
Aisha snorted, trying to regain her bravado, but still the fear lingered in her voice. "And when I woke up I thought Sebastian was one of those shadows until I opened the door. What was with the rasping I have no idea."
The Kerya-shaped lump wriggled and shifted a bit under the sheet. The little stoat poked her head out, although she seemed to be still mostly asleep: her ears drooped, and her whiskers stuck out in all directions. "Wossam't'r?" she muttered as she looked blearily across the dark cabin at Aisha and Gar. "No 'splosions? No 'tack? Mrrf... niffliwffle..." She wriggled back under the sheet again, and within seconds her quiet snoring resumed.
At the foot of Kerya's bed, the glowing circle deposited something green on top of the pile of grey cloth, then it shimmered once more and silently vanished.
Laertes thought she was going to strike him for a moment. A few slow, tension-laden moments passed between them before Ace simply stuffed herself into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and stormed off. Laertes gazed after her receding form, waiting for her to leave the room before sighing, and turning his gaze back out towards the window. He crossed his legs, and leaned against the window, putting his head in his hand. He stayed silent for a moment before smiling, letting out a quick, soft laugh before returning his gaze outside.
"Oh, my dear. How can I not? It's written all over your face..."
It was actually too late to be sitting up and worrying about things. Too little time to sleep would mean that they would all be tired once it was time to change trains and head for Jann's Cliff by the longer route around. Still, Carey did not very much care right then. Slouching in his seat, he nursed a lager, looking out the windows at the dark and dull landscape passing by at hurtling speed, and seeming all the more distant for it. Rejected to the dining car like a child when the grown-ups were fighting. Damned creatures, who couldn't even keep themselves under control. He should have simply helped them to track down the damn bat, and then left.
Why was he doing this? Oh, there was the money, of course, and the very convincing persuasion from Laertes and his brethren that he would be in their Order's good graces forever. He wasn't sure whether if this implied that had he not accepted, they would have gone out of their way to destroy his life because it was so easy for them to do, but now matter how faithful and humble they seemed, with their vows and seven martyrs and robes, he still couldn't presume anything but the worst. Any organization like that seemed almost like a mafia to him.
Of course, he was just dodging the real reason. He knew that one perfectly well, yet he was trying to stay mad at the other two at the moment, not wallow in his own sadness. And it was working quite fine with Laertes. But Ace, who had saved him... No, he shouldn't think of that. He had laughed at others, heard of adventurers dying from getting too caught up in their work, promised himself he would stay low and always to know when to back out. Now...
'That bloody religious...! Vodka! Straight up!' a voice called out from just behind him, closing with Carey and moving up his side. He spun around with a surprised and somehow almost ashamed look on his face, watching Ace walk over and up to the bar, leaning forward on the counter.
Listening to Aisha speak of her nightmare, Gareeku was intrigued at the way it had seemed so real to her. Indeed, the wolf had seen the burn marks for himself when he first saw the pantheress wake up. As she spoke, Gareeku could tell that she was trying to put up a brave face about it all; he could hear the lingering fear in her voice, as well as the way that she cleared her throat.
"You don't have to put on a brave face for me. I'm not going to judge you. No one should. I too am wondering why this has happened, as well as wondering what the hell Sebastian was doing." the wolf replied from under his hood. "And if it makes you feel any better, which it probably won't, I too have nightmares like yours, though not as real I admit."
Listening to Gareeku's reply, Aisha couldn't help but put on a smile and relax a little more, instead of straining to keep her fears behind closed doors. She was grateful that he was there to listen; even if perhaps all that either of them wanted to do was to go back to sleep.
With a hum, she used the sleeve to cover her singed arm again and sat back on the couch. "It does make me feel better, actually," she said. "More than you know. Nightmares are horrid...but I guess in the long run, there's nothing really any of us can do about it but...forget about them. At least for now."
Her sentence was interrupted in the middle with a wide yawn...her mind was telling her that it probably had enough stalling on sleep despite the visions it gave her. "At any rate, amigo, let's try to get some sleep...while we can yet. I don't think I even want to know what time it is," she chuckled weakly, briefly touching his shoulder. "Good night."
With that, Aisha closed her eyes and placed her head back on the couch...leaving Gareeku the other cushion to take and rest better on if he so chose, in the waning hours of night that they had left.
A rush of tense discomfort went through the otter as Ace took the glass that was offered her and kicked back half of the tall drink in one gulp. The barman, a crow, offered her a skeptical glance, and then set about with his business to close the dining car down, something that actually should have been done half an hour ago.
'He just won't veer from what he wants, will he?' Ace said with a bitter stare, offering very little clarity on what had really happened. But it was enough that Carey could understand what had upset her, or so he thought. They were always getting on each other's throats like that.
And still she somehow seems closer to him. Then again, maybe they're just more alike... Irritation twitched in those thoughts. He was quite aware of the gap in power between them. That was probably the major reason why they worked as they did. A pecking order, of sorts. He would have accepted it, knowing how it was among all in their line of work, if it were not so bloody idiotic.
'Ace, what are you doing?' he asked. 'Why are you even...?' Then he stopped, and sighed, knowing he was already losing his trail. It would have been good if she would not have been so intent though. It put them all on edge. 'There's no point in arguing or even asking. We have to deal with it when we're... when we've caught them. We can't focus on anything but that. That's why you should stop this.'
'You just don't get it, Carey', was Ace's slow reply that came after a few long seconds, one that sank the otter's hope. 'It's not as easy as you think. Not as easy...' Her words ebbed out, and she drew back the other half of her glass, more slowly this time. She sat there, staring out into nothing, and there was silence. Finally, the otter stood up.
'I'm going to get some sleep', he said, looking at the wolf distantly, even though something inside him just wanted to shout at her and pull her from her seat. He knew that would be about as effective as trying to reason with her though, meaning not at all. 'You should too.' He stood up. She didn't care for what he had to say and he hated it. Sighing and turning, he wandered back through the dark to the cabin, bedding without a word.
- -
The train made a few stops during the night, but since Jann's Cliff was the end station for the line, and it was a night train, that was the only point where they called out their arrival. By that time, the occupants of both cabins were well awake and out of bed, save Stygian who seemed to have dressed and then laid down again to catch what rest he could before they rolled into the station.
When the train finally slowed to a halt, rosy dawn light was pouring in through the half-curtained windows. The air had slowly gained warmth through the night, and though it didn't warrant a change of clothes, they could all feel that the climate was considerably more mild where they were now.
The sun was a welcome change from the seemingly infinite and freezing nights the party had been enduring of late. The events of the previous day - the meeting with the strange arachnid, the run-in with Laertes, and finally the destruction of the club and most of Haszal with it seemed somehow less surreal, or perhaps simply less real, in the golden light of day. Cog adjusted his hat, his sword securely fastened through his belt and the silver endcap gleaming in the sunlight. He perhaps had an excuse to wear his sunglasses, today.
The train had stopped - Jann's Cliff, wherever that was, was finally before them.
He stretched, already up and dressed, and took a seat in one of the chairs situated next to the other cabin. He wasn't sure if anyone else was up yet, other than the bat, and somehow Stygian didn't quite strike him as a morning person. To be honest, Cog wasn't entirely himself - he already felt the pangs that meant an imminent caffeine headache.
He waited, wondering when the other's might rouse themselves.
As the train went round a curve, the first light of dawn came in through the window and moved across the cabin until it fell on Kerya's muzzle, poking out from below the sheet. Her whiskers twitched, then her quiet snoring changed gear into a few grunts, before it finally stopped.
"Urgh... morning..." the little stoat mumbled as she poked her head out and opened one eye blearily. "I hate sleeping on the move, I never feel I have a good night's sleep. At least this carriage is more comfortable than most I have ridden in." She threw back the sheet, uncurled, sat up and yawned cavernously, showing that she might be rather more carnivorous than most Beings. A wriggle started at the back of her neck, building into a series of luxurious, sinuous bends and stretches that worked down her spine to the base of her tail. She reached down to the foot of the bed and picked up the small package she'd bought back in Haszal: when she opened it, it proved to be nothing more mysterious than a small travelling grooming and toiletries kit.
Kerya revealed one more thing as she twisted her body and leaned over: a long thin scar, completely healed but still clearly visible, that ran up from just above her right elbow, then down across her shoulderblade before ending somewhere under her third breastband. It had been too dark in the cabin the night before to see it clearly before she'd slipped into bed.
The early light and Kenya's greetings promptly woke Mel up. Still tangled up in her massive quilt and sporting a wide yawn she hopped down from her bunk. "Good morning," she answered the stoat, the only one who was actively awake. Then she slipped out the door to grab one of the shower rooms before they got too busy.
It didn't take very long before she reappeared, dressed in the grey coat and boots from the day before, looking every bit as fresh and unstained as if new.
Finally getting up from his bed as the train slowed to a halt, Stygian blinked a couple of times and brushed off his clothing, straightening it from his nap. He looked around the cabin at the others, judging how ready they were to go, and then had a peek out the window. The station platform began to hint through steam and sunlight. The rough gravel and stones surrounding the tracks were tinted a rusty red, and there was a fresh, salty smell in the air that revealed they were still by the sea.
Squinting from the sunlight that took his vision from him, Stygian turned around and made a relaxed sigh, then walked over and slid the cabin door aside, stepping into the corridor. He walked out and then gave a quick knock on the women's door, casually wondering whether if anyone of them had found anything objectionable about things, like Gareeku sleeping in their midst when someone might be a bit sensitive about dressing, or more likely Deirdre and Keaton getting on each others' tits again.
...Deirdre:As Deirdre hovered between the imperceptible boundary separating the waking and somnolence, she at first surmised that she was resting in the comfort of a warm, dry bed, clad not in a smart pinstriped suit but silken pajamas, and not at all in the company of a potentially dangerous collection of miscreants on a train. In the back of her head, as she attempted the ascension from her fitful slumber into the world of the awakened, she felt a pang of discomfort, a horrid juxtaposition to her paradisaical envisioning of herself cocooned in velveteen blankets and warmed by a nest of pillows. For someone in her predicament, it was quite remarkable she could enjoy such a tranquil dream.
My head hurts...Deirdre's tapered ears angled themselves irritably backwards, flattening against the blackened moptop of her hair. Twitching a little, the smartly-clad Gryphon unconsciously felt herself stir, motion riding up her taut muscles, and attempted to roll to the side. At first she subconsciously expected for her to become tangled in the warm embrace of a bed's luxurious sheets, but within that second her world somersaulted in a sudden, shrieking reversal, forcing her eyes open as gravity smacked her in the face, and she fell in a mess of limbs and wings off of the sofa. A loud clatter rang through the air as her sheathed sword hit the floor shortly before her own impact, which she immediately scrambled for. A second later, she was sitting back on her knees, sword in her hands, breathing heavily and staring around the room, assessing her situation.
She had apparently fallen asleep. Even when she was struggling to stay awake under the mantra of
"can't sleep, Keaton will get me" she had drifted away into a very unstable slumber. At least she had lasted the night without any dismemberment. Lord knew what would happen in the following days, though...
Speaking of the jackal, Keaton wasn't in the room. There was a glaringly vacant spot at the opposite end of the sofa where Keaton used to be. The other occupant, Mel, had apparently left as well.
Deirdre sighed and reached for her face, starting to peel some of the false facial hair off of her chin. Using her thumb, she scraped away the residual stubble, while she scooped up her sword and generally tidied her appearance. Deirdre normally wasn't a vain person - far from it, as she hated the way she looked outside of her masculine apparel - but she didn't see the point in wearing the facial hair anymore. It'd just make her itchy. As she flicked away the final shred, Deirdre ran her hand over her face and sighed, looping the belt hooked to her sword around her shoulders.
She didn't like the idea of facing the people who she had made a mockery out of herself in front of, but hopefully they'd let bygones be bygones. Come to think of it, the only one who really would take any offense would be Kerya, and they had reconciled last night. Although that
bat certainly seemed infuriated... it had been rather frightening. More than what she could comfortably admit to anyone else.
"Might as well face the day," hissed Deirdre irritably, and she pushed open the door and walked out. Hopefully Keaton wouldn't make things more miserable for her.
Knowing Keaton, however, she would most definitely do that.
---
...Keaton:Actually, making matters miserable for Deirdre was the last issue on Keaton's mind. Since she had very little to do last night, Keaton plunged herself into a sort of dreamless hibernation for the night much akin to what she had experienced while at the
Dragon's Grin. She had almost gone to sleep with the expectation that she would serendipitously be confronted with some sort of dream, to make her sleeping more eventful, but she was graced with no such occurrence. Keaton didn't see why she had thought she would dream, seeing as she hadn't dreamed in over three hundred fifty years...
She had woken up a few minutes after Deirdre. In fact, she had just left the room after she had started rousing herself from her rest. Having awakened on her own accord, Keaton was in a surprisingly chipper mood, most of last night having been blissfully forgotten - excluding the indignities she had suffered at the hands of Stygian, quite unfortunately. That had been erased through engorging herself on Deirdre's anger last night, though Keaton had forgotten the events after Stygian interfering in her and Deirdre's scuffle. Her mind just kept dwelling on the negative events, and was growing increasingly more feverish.
On the subject of the aforementioned chiropteran, she noticed him out of the corner of her eye. Keaton blinked and felt her cheeks flush slightly, hiding a slightly despondent, childishly defiant scowl, just to make her feel like she had
won over him somehow. What there was to "win," exactly, and why was beyond her comprehension. She sighed subaudibly and started shuffling incessantly, fiddling with random elements of her attire and adjusting the monochromatic armlet hugging her upper arm. Once her anxiety faded, she found herself quite restless, reduced to simply shuffling her oversized combat boots and drumming her fingers against the wall.
Finally, she sighed in defeat and muttered a quiet, "I'm bored."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Taking Stygian's exiting the cabin as a sign that he was perhaps ready to face the day, the wolf pushed himself up and out of the chair to follow the bat to the door, staying just outside of the corridor. They'd arrived at their destination, although it seemed like some of the party might take longer to get ready than others. Not that he could blame them, of course.
He flicked a bit of wet hair over his collar as he waited for the girls to emerge, and for his hair to dry completely. Finding himself rocking on his heels, he glanced at Stygian from the corner of his eye.
"Sleep well, I hope?" he said, his voice amiable.
In response to both Keaton's and Cog's statements, Stygian simply turned his apparently half-seeing eyes toward them and raised his eyebrows in an expression that oozed sarcasm already, but did not say anything. He then gave the door another couple of raps of his knuckles, harder this time, and spoke to the occupants.
'Are you proper?' he asked, his voice sharp as he turned his face somewhat toward the door again. 'I won't pretend I would find it too uncomfortable to have to carry you out in your underwear...' Before anyone on the inside could respond, he gave Keaton a sideways glance as well, murmuring. 'I guess you're ready to go. Don't worry; we won't be here for long.'
The door gave a brief shudder as something on the other side shoved a foot in it once.
"You want to shut your gods-damned mouth and stop that noise before I'm so deeply inclined to make you, first?" A deep, cutting voice on the other side had responded to the inquiry of the bat pounding at the door.
Listening to the accent, one could easily tell it was Aisha...but her voice was never that harsh, for those who knew her well. Given her nightmares it was rather an understandable thing; also due to the fact that she had lost several hours of sleep. Normally she could survive on it. But for those who knew her best of all, it was plain to see that she would have to be given a very wide berth.
The others had awakened before the panthress. So tired she was, the voices would have nearly been taken for more dreams if the sunlight piercing her eyelids from the window wasn't so desperate to make sure she'd stay awake. At least now the climate felt warmer than what it had been, and the chaos was left far behind them. Her ears swiveled while her eyes readjusted, listening to the comings and goings. One was leaving the room, and a couple of others were still inside when she pushed herself away from the back of the sofa. "G'morning, Gareeku..." she muttered rather softly to the wolf. Another half-hearted "g'morning" was given to whomever was left to hear it.
Contrary to the length of time that many other women would have taken to get themselves up, Aisha had her gear and cape back on in a manner of seconds. She took her hood and pulled it over her face to obscure the sullen look in her eyes...that was about the time that the door had been rapped on. Suppressing a growl after kicking it back, Aisha took her time mentally counting to ten before even considering stepping out.
Definitely gonna need a drink at one point. "Right...let's get outta here."
Kerya noticed Aisha and Gareeku waking up, and gave them a cheerful "good morning" as she bounced out of bed and went through a few more full-body stretches and wriggles. She picked up the belt with all the pouches, fastened it round her waist, then turned and bent over the pile of grey cloth her spell had produced overnight. Picking up a short tunic after a short rummage, she was just slipping it on when Sebastian knocked on the cabin door. She laid her ears back for a moment at Aisha's grumpiness: hopefully the jaguar wouldn't wake up like that every morning.
"I shall be ready in just a moment, Sebastian," she called through the door. Turning back to the pile of clothes, she picked up a long-sleeved robe and wriggled into it. It was made of the same lightweight grey fabric as the tunic, with a pattern of interlocked circles picked out in silver thread around the hem. A sash went around her waist next, then a hooded cloak with the same silver trim as the robe went over her shoulders. She removed the brooch from the green dress she'd worn yesterday and pinned the cloak with it. Finally she fished the dagger from beneath her pillow and tucked it into her sash. Everything else, the sandals, the green dress, and the rest of the grey clothes, she quickly folded up and put into the bag. A quick brushing at her exposed fur with the grooming kit would be good enough for the moment, then she dropped the kit into the bag as well. The little stoat wriggled and shrugged once more to settle the cloak more comfortably about her shoulders, picked up the bag and her staff, and stepped out into the corridor.
Richard had spent much of the night in the dining car, getting as drunk as the staff would allow him. For an undead's metabolism, or lack thereof, this meant little. He finally made his way back to the rest of the group's cabins in the morning. The zombie meandered over to the others, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian banging on the door of the girls' room. Prudent, yeah, but I'm surprised he's got the energy to be a jerk.
"So, we already got someplace to stay or are we spending the night at the train station?" He finally asked, leaning against a nearby wall lazily. "We did the pick the place in kind of a rush, I'm hoping we know enough about it to hide out awhile."
From having leaned in just slightly to listen at the door and the sounds behind it, Stygian made a small backwards jerk when the door shook with Aisha's kick, and then snorted after her words. Snappy, was she? His face dropping into a boorish look, he listened to the sounds as Kerya moved around and then spoke behind the door in a far more pleasant demeanor. Giving both Cog and Keaton a look that could have meant anything, he paused a bit to lower his voice and settle his tone before responding.
'We are going to have to leave in less than ten if you don't want the conductor to complain, just so you know', he said. Needlessly he straightened his shirt. Then, finally, Aisha and then Kerya emerged. And Richard was soon to follow, coming down the corridor. The bat looked between them, and then at Richard as he posed his question. It did annoy him a little because it was so early, and because it had an almost evident answer. But it was still valid, so he merely sighed and resigned himself to what he hoped was a constructive answer.
'Well, as you have no doubt seen hitherto we have planned this little excursion far ahead and with the greatest care', he stated, in a not too stingy but pointed tone, and folded his arms neatly across his chest. 'There will be rooms and brunch waiting for us at the Executif Hotel. With fresh baguettes. And little mints on the pillows.' He made a little pinching gesture in the air with one hand as if illustrating said treat. His eyes, in all their polished blackness, held firmly onto that boorish dullness.
Cog blinked at the bat, leaning against the wall just outside the hallway corridor. "Really? You work pretty quick. I didn't even see a phone on the tra-"
He paused as the bat indicated the small chocolates that would be present upon the pillows in the hotel. The wolf blinked again behind his glasses, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
"Mints? Well, I guess that clinches it, then." he said, a white fang bared in amusement at the bat. "We better get there quick."
A small chuckle escaped the wolf, the lupine shaking his head slowly.
...Keaton:
Keaton let out a relieved sigh in response to Stygian's comment about the group not needing to be on the train much longer. Only a day spent on the blasted vessel and Keaton was already feeling claustrophobic, confined to only those few cabins with very little freedom. "Finally!" Keaton crowed cheerfully, stretching her arms triumphantly in the air.
Unconsciously, she tilted her ear in the direction of Aisha's door in hopes of picking up some of her and Stygian's conversation, if only for her personal entertainment. Judging by her embittered, virulent response to his restless drumming, she didn't have a very good night's sleep. The amount of exhaustion issuing through the door was almost intoxicating, almost as much the irritability. Keaton would have found Aisha's retort comical if it wasn't for the fact she also found it slightly unnerving.
A moment later, the melanistic jaguar emerged from the doorway, clothed in her traditional garb and wholly prepared. Keaton arched an eyebrow at her and muttered a quick "Good morning," but didn't comment on her previous behavior. Shortly after this, Kerya entered the room. Keaton started rifling filing her nails using a long, thin slab of unknown obsidian substance which had most definitely not been there before, her grating movements practiced, but impatient. When Stygian started going on about mints and baguettes at some hotel, however, her attention was firmly grabbed, as indicated by the suddenly quizzical look on her face. For some reason she wasn't sure whether or not the chiropteran was actually being serious.
Oh well. If he was serious, at least she had mints to look forward to.
The final entry into the room was a surprisingly feminine-looking Deirdre. The Gryphon was denuded of her false facial hair and other cosmetics which provided her masculine appearance, that characteristic probably detracting any attention away from her otherwise bedraggled visage. Her sword was sheathed between her wings, kept there by its belt harness. Uncertainly, she looked to everyone, purposefully ignoring Keaton's gaze, and murmured a hesitant, "Good morning," before she walked over to a corner so she could wait.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
'Morning', Stygian replied without really looking at the gryphon in a perfunctory manner. He was still practically rolling his eyes at how his sarcasm had been received. He liked these people somewhat, yet some things just seemed a bit lost on them. Ah, well. Give them time, and they would surely learn.
'Jann's cliff was a good choice because there's both the land and sea and air route out of here', the bat said seriously, stating facts he had hoped were obvious. 'We might have time to pack some supplies, or... well, I won't complain if someone has connections here that we could use... But we should move on as quickly as we can. We have to buy time. Losing our pursuers here might work for a while.' He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his stance a bit, studying their packing and thinking about the planning of things while keeping on speaking. 'In short, we should stock up and work out as much as we can before we move on. And I don't care if you bring mints. So long as it gets us a solution, I'll buy you mints myself.'
Mel strolled up from the direction of the shower room just as Ignatz was giving his performance regarding the amenities of some hotel. She had arrived too late to know what he was talking about but he went on that they needed to get information and supplies quickly and be on the move again. She could think of a couple things she wanted to pick up. She headed towards the exit.
Take Mel's cue, Cog pushed himself off the wall and began to follow the snowy feline off the train, still shaking his head at Stygian's words. He rested his hand across the hilt of his sword.
He shook his head, still smiling. "Mints." he said, the emphasis he put on the word somehow almost unnoticeable, and yet conveying depthless levels of meaning. A white fang gleamed in amusement.
Kerya followed Mel and Cog towards the end of the carriage, cocking an ear quizzically at Sebastian as she walked past him. "Mints...?" she murmured quietly, in a didn't-get-the-joke tone of voice. She shrugged and walked on.
'Mints', Stygian simply stated in return, as if that would explain everything, and fell in beside Kerya. She was small enough that they could easily walk next to each other in the narrow corridor. Simultaneously, the bat turned his head over his shoulder and called back to both the cabins. 'We're leaving! Meet outside!' He then continued to walk down the corridor, following Mel.
The moment they opened the car door and stepped down the wrought metal steps, they were greeted with a fresh, just slightly chilly breeze that stirred their hair and fur. The station was smaller than the one in Haszal, and very noticeably lacked that early Gothic and solemn look. Instead, it looked like something from a more modern, yet still artistically aware age. Ornate glass windows and smooth architecture combined with colorful decorations, carefully placed and well-made commercial boards, and elements of mostly brassy gold metal, polished and unpolished. Toward the far side of the station, an enormous cogged wheel turned together with a few smaller ones set beside it, and a huge piston could be seen past it. It was set against a large structure from which ran a number of thick steel cables away behind the station house. The platform they had stopped at was out in the open, just a supported roof with benches beneath it standing to cover the middle of it. And past that... was the bay.
Now that they had the time to see, to hear the blowing wind and feel it on their skin, they could very easily understand why the city was called Jann's Cliff. Just past the last of the tracks, probably less than a dozen meters, was a sheer drop, beyond which was nothing. And then, hundreds of meters below, came the bay. Huge frigates and cargo ships mixed sails and smoke thatches and slender silhouettes with the wing-like sails of smaller boats, and the racing trails of even smaller motor craft. A slender offshot of the shore and a pier, and some more coastline could be seen when they looked to the right, past more tall cliffs and slopes where birds soared and called, riding on the updraft of the winds. And on the other side of the bay, miles into the south, was the other side of the sound, and a small terraced town called Jann's Edge. But the city, sprawled up and built on the height against the huge cliff, was lost beneath them from their angle. Then again, if they turned to look behind them and up over the train, they could still see more of it above them, almost as much as below. People ran and things moved. Figures even moved on the outside of the houses, over suspended bridges or on the walls. Some even flew, and an airship, long and sporting a series of ducted fans along its blue- and gold-painted form, lifted lazily to the sky. The place was bustling, a leaning city and a marvel of colors and extraordinary sights in comparison to the dull Haszal.
Mel walked to the edge of the cliff, or rather as far as the platform rails would let her, and enjoyed the view. She had no fear of heights, in other circumstances she might have jumped the barrier and flown a few loops around the bay buzzing the airship just for fun. Peering in the windows at the passengers was always good for a laugh. Such a pretty, busy city. She'd have to visit again when she had some time.
A few quick steps down metal stairs and onto the main platform greeted the silver wolf with a chilling, seaborne wind that instantly made the swordsman's hand dart for his hat. The smell of sea-salt in the air, and the cliff's view vista before made Cog pause a moment, taking in a deep breath of the ocean air, before walking slowly to the edge. His coat, driven by the winds, billowed out behind him.
He walked up next to the snow leopard as he gazed out at the city, enjoying the cool breezes blown up from the ocean. The city, built up along the cliffs themselves, seemed so much more colorful than the drab gothic architecture of Haszal - certainly not as restrained or grand as anything like that. It seemed more like a painting drawn on the side of the very cliffs themselves, vibrant and bustling over the sheer rock face. Suspended bridges helped to connect the cliffside buildings, and all around him Cog could see airships traversing through as well. Those who were gifted with flight also navigated the airy city - definitely a place where wings would come in handy.
For a moment, at least, the wolf simply stood in silence and watched all these things, keeping a hand on his hat. He still smiled, bu the edge of amusement seemed to be gone, replaced by something far softer.
Kerya climbed down from the train and followed Mel and Cog to the railing at the edge of the platform, where she drank in the panoramic view like any rubbernecking tourist. Her cloak fluttered back in the in the stiff breeze off the sea; combined with her unconsciously dramatic pose, with her staff tucked into the crook of her elbow like a sceptre, only the luridly printed shopping bag spoiled the impression she gave of a diminutive conqueror surveying her new domain.
She put the bag down for a moment and shaded her eyes with her hand, looking off into the distance around the curve of the cliff. "Mel," she said to the snow leopard standing nearby, "I see winged people down there, flying about. You had wings, I think, last night as we escaped the club. Could you or Dierdre fly like that?"
Though it was early in the morning, and Stygian was feeling typically jaded by the circumstances and his own thoughts and experiences, he still couldn't help but enjoy the view. Strolling to the edge of the platform, he gazed over the mostly coppery, slanted roofs of Jann's Cliff. The sun got in his eyes, but he could still see the faintest image of the city, like a photograph where someone had made a slip-up with the chemical treatment afterwards, or a picture where someone had turned up the bloom immensely. With the smoke and steam that drifted thinly through the air in places, and the whiteness in his vision that resembled clouds, it made it look to him as if he were staring at some artist's rendition of Heaven. He chuckled.
Turning back to see if everyone was out of the train car yet, something that under the circumstances he more or less had to hear instead to know reliably, Stygian caught a piece of Kerya's voice from his side where she was standing with Mel, not thirty paces away. He turned his head, and spoke, more loudly so that they would be able to hear.
'A good few of us can fly, yes. But it's not really practical if we are all going to move around together, now is it?' he asked, and turned against the stoat, squinting.
Richard stepped, blinking, out into the sunshine. He stared over the quaint town, at it's picturesque natural beauty and imagined he could almost feel the wind in his fur. The water sparkled like only the ocean does, blue-green and marvelous, and above the airship was there almost to say And yes, we're successful too! It was a place where you wouldn't be surprised if it was summer year round, every year.
"'S too bright out. They got a hotel with cable?" the zombie groused, although his heart wasn't in it. This place was lovely. It was almost a shame that the group had shown up there, he gave them maybe a week before they'd taken care of every bar there.
Richard's comment wasn't really in tune with Stygian's mood at the time. The bat cast a quick glance in the man's direction and flicked one ear against the wind. He'd have to lose the jacket and get a coat and a thinner shirt. He liked the north for a reason, and it wasn't the rain or the lack of beaches and girls in creative bathing dress.
'O ye of little enthusiasm...' he chided the baboon, and then put his hand up to shield his eyes. 'We should get moving. Let's see if we can find somewhere to settle down and get our things together.' He started walking toward the exit off the platform.
Taking the bat's cue, Cog stepped away from the edge of the platform and brushed a bit of hair from his eyes. He turned sideways to follow the bat and stopped, bringing his hands up to his face and muttering - the wind, pleasantly chill as it was, was making it a little difficult for the silver-haired lupine to see. Fiddling with his hair and his hat a bit, he situated himself into a position where he could see, and with his coat blowing out to the side he followed the bat to the exit.
Mel made sure her long coat was securely fastened around her. She knew she would have to find a different outfit if she didn't want to stand out here in the balmy weather but for the moment she was happy for the outfit enchanted to keep her pleasantly cool. Turning momentarily to Kerya she answered, "Yes, I can fly if I wish. You will need to ask Deirdre yourself. Having wings is not a guarantee of flight ability." Shen then followed Ignatz off the platform in search of a temporary hideout before Kerya could ask more questions.
Kerya nodded as she listened to Mel's reply, but she was only half hearing the feline; her attention was still captivated by the panorama of Jann's Cliff spread out before her. And above her as well, as she realised the railway station was not at the top of the cliff. The airship, some distance away across the bustling city, was particularly fascinating. So much so, in fact, the little stoat almost missed seeing the rest of the party heading for the exit. She grabbed her bag and trotted across the platform, her cloak streaming in the wind, to catch up.
...Keaton:
Fresh air was not something frequently afforded to Keaton when she was in the train, nor was open space, so she found herself both quite surprised and refreshed to feel the cool breeze whip about her hair as she stepped out of the train. Behind the loitering group, she heard Deirdre follow; her presence indicated by the rustling of iron against iron as she self-consciously adjusted her sword and scabbard. Brushing her hair over her shoulder, Keaton cast her gaze about the train station. Under normal circumstances Keaton hardly ever stopped, while traveling, to appreciate architecture. After spending two hundred years venturing around Furrae, she assumed she had seen everything there was to see.
In spite of her normally lackadaisical tendencies, Keaton couldn't help but admire the bronze-and-steel steampunk visage of the Jann's Cliff train station. If there was a single shred of architectural promise inside of her, it would be thriving off of the potential inspiration garnered from the whimsical mechanisms keeping the train station active. As the air stirred and played with her fur and hair, she felt a strange sense of elation inflate within her chest, perhaps the result of being liberated from within the suffocating confines of the train. Wind and oxygen were taken completely for granted, especially among Cubi who were past the mortal limitation of breathing.
Stygian got right down to business. He said they needed to get going, and walked toward the platform exit. Keaton continued looking around, burying her hands in her pockets, and walked behind him. Oddly enough, in her state of constantly-fluctuating boredom, she felt obligated to follow Stygian around for conversational purposes. "What, no souvenir shopping?" Keaton asked with a purposeful inflection of disappointment. "Come on, I can buy you a snowglobe, Styg."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The platform was actually crowded nearer to the station, especially now that their train had just arrived. It would probably become a whole deal more bustling when the people on escape from Haszal came rolling in. Still, it was a world quite used to disasters and Jann's Cliff's population was always shifting, so a break in routine would be something very extraordinary. As Stygian swung one of the heavy glass double-doors open and held it up a bit for the others to enter. He caught Keaton's eyes as he did.
'I don't think they have snowglobes here, Keats', he said, a little critically. It was good that she was speaking to him since after what had happened, and more so because of how their relationship had been beforehand. Once, she had wanted mostly to bash his head in. That she was talking about something so smallish made him suspicious though. He flicked an ear. 'I don't care much what you stop to buy, so long as it goes quickly. We don't have time to haggle either. That's a warning, by the way', he added with a short glance to the others, walking on. 'It's a trade city, and only some things have a fixed price. They're usually not all too eager to tell the actual market price either.'
The inside of the station was a polished stone floor in a decorate pattern made from deep blue and creamy yellow plates, lit by the streaming light coming in from the wall of windows that overlooked the bay to their right. The station had four floors, the lowest one being the storage and service area. All the other three were terraced and under the same roof. They were standing on the lowest one right then, before a café called O'Leane's with a mahogany look set against the wall of the building and with tables and blue-cushioned chairs and sofas around it, and a perfect view out over the bay. To their right there were stairs, even escalators of a carefully designed kind, and shops and boutiques of various kinds, selling mostly small travel items or confectionery or liquor. There was no toll booth, no check-in, telltale of the trade rules of the city, just a single security guard making a passing glance over them sitting by a desk next to the entry, and another one patrolling around near the stairs, with a cup of coffee he'd obviously just picked up from the café. A few brassy metal signs and plaques, some in foreign languages, some not, directed them to the location of the 'Customs' and the 'Post Office' and the 'Vertical Tram'.
Mel quickly scanned the nearby shops. Touristy sorts of shops full of useless items imprinted with the city's name were not where she, or she suspected anyone else, would find supplies. Instead she purchased some fruit juice from a vendor and sipped it as she waited for the others to make up their minds.
Cog simply smiled at the bat's comments - and not particularly needing anything himself, leaned against a nearby pillar that afforded him a bit of protection from the wind. He was about to go for a bit of a rest, when the wind carried to him something neither salt nor sea-spray - the delicious aroma of freshly made coffee, heady and strong. Mixed in with the rest of the refreshingly light smells of the place, it simply smelled divine.
Cog remembered he hadn't had any before he stepped off the train. As if on cue, a slight headache began to build in the back of his mind.
"Ah, well, if only for just a moment then." he said, pushing himself up and walking towards the mahogany-decorated café built into the lowest terrace, just across from him. His hand went into his jacket, fingering the coins in there, and making sure that he had enough change to cover it he made his way to the small cleared space on the mahogany counter beneath the 'Order Here' sign.
As she secured her new vest as the last of things she brought, Aisha had been quite aware when she had heard several times over that the train was going to be emptying...she and Gareeku would more than likely be the last to leave. She didn't mind staying in the back, and in fact didn't mind if it was alongside him. Still trying to banish what little was left of her irritation, and once everyone was made sure to be accounted for, the panthress took in a long breath through her nose.
As they emptied, the scent was found to be immediately calming...like the water of the nearby bay, and whatever else lay before them. Still, as was customary for her upon entering any other place, she had pulled the hood of her cape up to obscure her eyes in shadow.
But even though she was hidden to the rest of the world, the world certainly wasn't hidden to her. The station itself was a most welcoming example of what they would see upon arrival. Over the heads of several passengers she observed the vibrant colors and patterns, and found herself basking her view in the brilliance of a new-yet-familiar area; much different from the disaster of Haszal. From the cool air that passed to the wind as it whistled down over the sheer picturesque drop of the cliff nearby, it was almost as if right now the view was saying, "forget your nightmares."
So she decided to try, stepping forth behind the others and among the crowd until they entered through the glass doors of the inside. She had caught the bat's warnings about stopping if they needed to, to buy things. Aisha wasn't worried about that at the moment...she had all the things that was useful to her, such as weapons and a new piece of armor. The huntress didn't want to spend what coins she had left on more than what was necessary.
Aisha just looked around for a moment in thought, wondering how far ahead things were planned. For now they had a good place to hide, and even a hotel to stay at, it was heard. With mints? the panther had chuckled inwardly...that was nothing to complain about after all, even if perhaps they were hiding out.
"A little luxury after a night like that never hurt anyone..." the panther hummed, a small smile tugging the corner of her jaw.
Kerya's nose twitched as she walked with Sebastian and the others across the station's main hall. The scent she'd caught, among the others drifting about, was unfamiliar, but something about it almost made her mouth water. Besides, she hadn't had breakfast yet. Her curiosity piqued, she watched Cogidubnus walk off to a stall at the side of the hall where the delicious scent seemed to come from. Tossing a quick "I shall be back in a moment" over her shoulder, she trotted after the wolf.
By the time the little stoat returned a couple of minutes later, lapping quickly at a steaming paper cup of coffee, her ears were fully erect, and her whiskers were vibrating so fast they could barely be seen. It was hard to tell now that her cloak wasn't being blown aside by the wind, but every hair on her tail appeared to be sticking straight out.
"Thisstuffisquitenice," she said, her voice noticeably faster and higher-pitched than it had been last night. She raised the cup to her muzzle and lapped up some more as she looked up at the bat. "Oddflavour, butIambeginningtolikeit. IwonderifIcan getitbackhome? NowSebastian, yousaidsomethinglastnight aboutplanningour nextmovesinmoredetail, shallwedothatnow or getsomesuppliesfirst? Itismuchwarmerhere thaninHaszal, isn'tit? Whatprettycolours onthatinsect thatjustflewpast!"
That Cog was going to go straight for the coffee shop as soon as he saw it was not unexpected. That Kerya would follow was, though not really significant. They were both welcomed, as was their money, and treated to steaming hot and strong Java. Stygian followed along, though he didn't order anything, only stood on the corner as a silent reminder that the rest of them were, or at least should have been waiting to move on. But people had dispersed, it seemed, and so after a couple of minutes it was only the bat who seemed impatient, and soon not even that, as he looked out of the massive windows at the bright and clear bay, and the activity of the harbor. Or, well, at least he tried to look out. For all the light and the polarized reflection through the windows and the way he had to squint, he might as well have been looking at a bleached photography out of the corner of his eye.
Again, as expected, the wolf did not stop at his first cup of coffee. Nor probably at his second. When Kerya addressed Stygian though, the bat raised an eyebrow, and looked down at her with a bit of incredulity, clearly thinking that she should stop at one cup. Expecting Cog to say something about how a place without coffee must be terribly uncivilized, the bat took the stoat aside a bit, looking almost half his height down at her.
'You should be careful what you do around here. Unless you've forgotten, you were the one who admitted she would need guidance yesterday, no?' he asked, rhetorically. Even if that were not really how things were, it was the case. 'Why don't you and Mel see if you can find a city map or at least a street guide?' he suggested, and put his hand behind her back, almost ushering her toward the dragon while taking her cup between two fingers. Then he paused, and snapped the free fingers of his other hand behind her back. 'Oh! And some sunglasses. Preferably polarized ones. Please. Just tell me where and I'll pay.'
Mel looked at her hyperactive charge as Ignatz passed her along. This ought to be an entertaining expedition into the world of tacky tourist items. "Let us start our scavenger hunt over there. It looks sufficiently touristy to contain city guides." The insides proved it to be exactly that, containing everything a new arrival might have forgotten or could possibly desire for a memento. Racks of tee-shirts and hats and sweatshirts dominated the center while around the edges shelves held every sort of bright novelty a child might want or glittering trinket that might catch a vacation addled adult's eye. Mel spotted a rack of books wedged in at the back. Unsure if Kerya could read the local language she pointed to a cluster of racks on the opposite side. "Why don't you see if there are any sunglasses while I find the maps."
Kerya's ears, whiskers and tail drooped as Sebastian cleverly manoeuvred things so that he lifted her half-empty cup of "co-fay" right out of her hand. He must want it all for himself, she thought with a brief annoyed snarl. His words of caution buzzed around in her head without really making any connection. She brightened up, though, when Mel led her across the hall to a shop. It was a wonderful shop, even better than the one back in the railway station in Haszal. Mel mentioned something about sunglasses and pointed out a shelf at the other end of the shop. She hurried off to investigate, but there was so much interesting stuff on the way. Colourful things. Shiny things. Colourful shiny things that made noises. It was great!
Standing at the book rack, it took a great effort for Mel to avoid looking over her shoulder. She didn't dare. The snow leopard could follow Kerya around the shop, though, by the progress of the little stoat's shrill squeals, chitters and squeaks of delight. Before too long, though, the shop was quiet again and Mel heard Kerya trotting back towards her. Her shopping bag bulged a bit more.
"Thatwasfun!" she said, "Thisisawonderfulshop, ithaslotsofprettythings! HereIgotsomethingforSebastian, Ihopeitiswhathewanted."
The item Kerya held up was a pair of sunglasses, and they were polarised: so far so good. They also had lenses nearly six inches across, arranged in a star shape, with a hideously garish pink plastic frame.
...Keaton:In the face of Stygian's slightly critical comment, Keaton merely looked disappointed. Particularly at the prospect of her not being able to buy a snowglobe to entertain herself with. She always loved those ridiculous things, even if they were utterly pointless. Pouting a little, Keaton, after faltering slightly, ambled briskly behind Stygian, still maintaining her stillborn attempt at a conversation. "Well
jeez, what kind of souvenir shop doesn't have snowglobes, for Chrissake?" Much to her dismay, Stygian didn't answer, instead abruptly turning toward the coffee shop, where Cogidubnus had apparently meandered toward. Keaton pouted again, but pursued into the establishment.
Not far behind her, Keaton heard Deirdre reluctantly follow. At the moment, Keaton didn't really care about Deirdre's presence, especially since she was so listless. Besides, she wasn't going to torment the little tramp in front of everybody; not unless she couldn't control herself. Considering Deirdre's heroic tendencies, that was likely to happen in the future if Keaton dropped an inappropriate comment after something particularly tragic.
Once in the coffee shop, Keaton waited on the side, toying with the marble in her pocket. She hummed. Nearby, Deirdre took refuge at a table, looking fidgety. Keaton herself watched Kerya and Mel depart the shop, with the former looking extremely hyperactive. Keaton made a mental note to give Kerya all the coffee she wanted the next time she became bored. Seeing the two leave in search of... whatever (Keaton wasn't paying attention) reminded her of her earlier promise to Stygian. Snowglobes didn't seem to be something he would particularly enjoy or find any use for, but it interested her to look for something that'd fit his interests. If she had the money she would buy everybody gifts, really, and proudly say,
Here everyone, enjoy your gifts, because these are what your souls are going into if I ever decide to strip you of your souls.Alas, finances were limited. So she'd probably have to limit herself to getting Stygian something. Sighing, Keaton kicked back and turned to the door, trudging her way there. Deirdre nearly jumped in her seat, producing a small output of tension. It made Keaton smile. "Weeeeeeeell, I'd love to stick around, but I've got some shopping to do, folks. I need to check if snowglobes are on the market." With a remarkable amount of false exuberance, Keaton waved to the group and disappeared as the door swung shut, her cheerfully trotting yellow-black outline quite visible through the glass windows.
---
...Deirdre:Watching with an air of incredulity as Keaton waltzed her way towards the souvenir shop, Deirdre remained where she was. She decided that despite the comfortable ambiance of Jann's Cliff, she didn't want to explore. Probably for the sake of her safety, or in case her captors weren't interested in allowing her to test her limitations. Come to think of it, it was harder and harder for her to refer to these people as "captors," particularly when they were socializing and interacting much like
actual people rather than faceless villains. Right now, though, she didn't want to provoke any of them. At least she had reconciled matters with Kerya. That likely gave her someone to talk to if she ever grew bored.
Deirdre yawned behind her hand and fluttered her wings slightly. She was sort of sleepy after her impromptu wake-up. Coffee seemed lovely at that moment. Shuffling a little, she stood up and approached the counter, digging through her pockets. Fortunately, her wallet was tucked safely in there, after having been transfered from her original suit. Deirdre withdrew the required amount of money and presented it to the man behind the counter. "Can I have the Java, please?" she asked.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Cogidubnus found a small table located just outside the establishment, probably placed there for the convenience of those who wanted to stop for a moment and enjoy their drink. Finding a seat quickly, Cog leaned back with his admittedly second cup of coffee, and watched the rest of the party start running around the various shops - and with some amusement watched Kerya began to practically vibrate after half a cup of coffee. True, the brew was somewhat strong here, but Cog's caffiene headache was only now starting to go away on his second cup.
"Lightweight..." the wolf smiled to himself, and took another drink out of the lidded, paper glass the establishment had provided. He sighed for a moment, contented.
Mel had just picked two city guides out of the display when rapid footfalls and rapid speech alerted her to Kerya's approach. She stared at the novelty sunglasses for a long moment. Without laughing she managed to comment, "How very fashion forward. I am sure he will appreciate the time you spent picking them out. I have a few more items to pick out. I will be ready in a minute." Taking the two books she stopped at the traveler's aid section and picked up a selection of toiletries and minor first aid items. On her way back to the cash register she added a few pairs of sunglasses and a large bag of mints to her selections.
Having given up the attempts at seeing clearly, Stygian had merely shut his eyes and proceeded to lean back against the counter. He could hear what was going on around him well enough anyway. Not that there was too much to keep track of, except the background noise. It seemed that these people practically needed a hot poker to the ass before they really sped up.
'Hey, Cog... I got the idea that you were quite familiar with this Laertes', the bat said, suddenly and with no provocation. A little reminder. 'How is he most likely to find us? I imagine that he and Ace should be on their way already.' He moved around the wolf, placing himself a bit up along the counter and nearer to the exit, in what he hoped was a bit of a signal as well.
At the bat's question, the contented look on Cog's face seemed to evaporate like the steam from his cup. The wolf pushed his glasses up over his eyes, his gaze somewhat cautious under those shaded lenses, and leaned back in his chair. He looked at the bat with a blank expression on his face, although behind his glasses his eyes seemed more pensive than anything else.
"Yes. I am." he said, taking another drink of his coffee. "Although I am...unsure, of how he might chase us." Cog looked out at the bay. From where he sat, the wind was not so harsh, and the feel of it was much more pleasant. "I know only what I have been able to hear about him, and most of that is not encouraging as to an escape. He's an inquisitor - this is what he does."
Cog paused again, looking back at the bat. "I wouldn't count on him wasting any time. And I wouldn't count on him getting lost, either." he said, sipping on his drink. He paused a good five seconds before speaking again. "Although, who did you say was with him?"
Behind his glasses, one of the wolf's eyes narrowed.
The bat frowned. Sharp. Now they were getting somewhere. The wolf's countering question might have been a little too sharp, but if he thought that Stygian was withholding information, even that could serve a point later on.
'Ace', Stygian said, hissing the name forth. It sounded almost contemptuous, the way he said it. But Cog hadn't heard him speak of anyone in that tone before, so he couldn't make too much out of it. With Stygian, it was hard to judge right off. You really had to put things into context. 'A bounty hunter. Now, probably, you should just call her hunter. I don't think you could have missed her. Tall wolf, broad shoulders for a girl, always has more knives than you can count off sight on her...' He didn't want them getting stuck in the conversation. When the others got back, it was time to move on. Transportation planned first... 'Honestly, I'd consider her as dangerous as him. But that's because when he gets high and mighty and overconfident, she'd just shiv you in the back.'
...Keaton:With a startlingly uncharacteristic air of overwhelming elation, Keaton jogged briskly down the streets, staring attentively around for her destination. In short order she spotted the souvenir shop nestled between two buildings: one intended for numerous purposes, such as gambling, tobacco, and other activities Keaton hypocritically deemed as unscrupulous, another selling something quaint like tea and chocolate. Having a bit of a sweet tooth, Keaton decided to check that out later, if she was gifted with the opportunity. Singing something rather obscene under her breath (probably something universally censored), Keaton pushed open the door to the souvenir shop and ambled inside.
The place was rather quaint, Keaton noted, but it had a lot of items in its selection. Bypassing a few stacks of magazines and books, she started looking around, obsessively scanning over the merchandise snuggled in the shelves. A few things interested her, like a few unusually spherical stuffed animals (Keaton had a horrible weakness for stuffed animals), but her money was limited and she probably could only buy Stygian something. And he wouldn't like a stuffed animal, unless Stygian wasn't telling her something. Frowning a little, Keaton spun away from that section of the store and decided to browse elsewhere. Something over at the window caught the corner of her eye.
---
...Deirdre:After retrieving her steaming cup of Java, Deirdre walked back to her seat and dropped into it with a clear air of resignation. Sighing, she started gently blowing on the drink to cool it off to a reasonable temperature, then settled the cup on the table in front of her with her head cradled against her hand. Somewhat detachedly she listened to the conversation going on between Cogidubnus and Stygian. After all, if she was to participate in their group, their enemies would probably concern her as well. Having nothing to contribute, she said nothing.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The bat's response didn't seem to affect the wolf much at all, Cogidubnus simply taking in the information without blinking - or, so it seemed. He took another sip of his coffee, thinking. Laertes wanting Stygian dead, the bat's apparent knowledge of the Jackal's accomplices. That spider that had spoken with him before, warning him.
There's something here I'm missing. the wolf thought to himself, and shifted his gaze to the ocean.
"I remember her, yes." Cog said, his voice calm. "She was jumping about, for a bit there. Quite acrobatic." he paused, sipping his drink. "I didn't get a very good look at her fight, though. I do know that many have tried playing off that damned Jackal's arrogance, and he lives yet."
Cog's face twisted, the wolf reliving some memory. He sighed, and looked at the bat again, his face softening again. "But either way, I somehow think you already know what you've gotten yourself in for."
Paying for everything she'd got in the shop had eaten up most of the local money Kerya had left from Haszal. Ah well, she still had a fair amount of money from home to exchange; it seemed to be a bit more valuable here, perhaps just for the novelty of such odd-looking coins. After a last quick look around she turned back to Mel. "IamgoingbacktoSebastian," she said, at almost double normal speed, "perhapsIcangetmore ofthatco-faystuff beforehedrinksitall!" With a cheerful wave and a flick of her tail, the little stoat trotted out of the shop and back across the hall, her robe and cloak fluttering audibly in the wind from her speed.
Back in the coffee shop, the bat didn't even have time to react to Cog's statement before a small mustelid whirlwind descended on him. "ThereyouareSebastian Igotsunglassesforyou Ihopetheyfit!" In a matter of seconds, Kerya darted in from the main hall, bounced onto a stool beside Stygian then scrambled up on the counter, plopped the pink-framed sunglasses onto his face, and jumped back down again. She paused for at least a quarter of a second to make sure she hadn't put them on upside down, before she scurried off towards the serving counter to order another coffee.
Richard, meanwhile, was over by the counter being what was often referred to in the food service industry as a Difficult Customer. Coffee, to him, was essentially just a substitute for alcohol when it's too early for you to get any. He took it seriously.
"Listen, you little twit," the zombie growled at the barista (a rather thin ocelot), who very much looked as though he wanted to be somewhere- ANYwhere- else than where he was right then, "I'm assuming they hire people who speak English here. I am also reasonably certain that you have what I'm ordering."
"W-well sir, if you would look at our menu, we have our n-new frappe latte with-"
"Explain to me exactly what's so indesipherable about 'coffee, black'?"
The barista swallowed. His tips weren't worth this. "W-would that be tall, grande or veinty?"
He had been in town for twenty minutes, and already he had found a person he considered stupid and infuriating. In all that had changed over the course of the last couple days, this familiar occurrence comforted the undead in a way nothing else ever could.
"Large. That would be large," Richard replied, resisting the urge to grin at the barista's cringing at the word. The poor ocelot turned away and tried desperately to find out how to work the machine in such a way as to avoid the result having the words "frappe," "mocha" or "blend" used to describe it. Richard turned away, pleased at this towns ability to piss him off. Maybe it's not gonna be so bad here...
He nodded to Kerya when she approached, and then did a classic double take at the spastic mustelid. "Erm... Kerya, right?"
Practically ignoring Kerya, Stygian didn't even blink as the stoat put the glasses on him, instead focusing on the conversation.
'Do I look like a fool to you?' he said, turning to the wolf and giving him a closed-eyed look. 'No, I'm not completely sure of what the whole deal is, but I am rather aware of what goes on around me. It can't all be that old business that Ash talked about, if Laertes is in on things as well. I'm afraid we might be dealing with two completely different problems and motives here. And that makes it difficult to prioritize, since... Well, frankly, one is more dangerous, but the other is more imminent.' He sighed, turned his head and overheard the proceedings between the barista and the ever-charming Richard, and then sighed again at that. 'It might be possible to get away from Laertes though. Ace will be a little less easy to throw off, but I've done it before. And free of them we can work out the issue with Ashtareth and her companions.'
Kerya had just put her bulging shopping bag down: she turned and looked up at Richard at the sound of his voice... and froze. The hand holding her staff gripped it tighter, her free hand stopped half-way into a gesture that raised a tiny spark of light at each clawtip. She stood like that, eyes wide and fur bristling, for a long moment, then she relaxed with a sigh, almost collapsing against the counter.
"Myapologies... Richard, isitnot? Igot quitea frightthere, Ihad forgotten your... ah... condition," she said delicately, with a hint of a blush inside her ears. The little stoat's voice was rapidly slowing to its normal speed. She blinked, shivered from whiskers to tail, and deliberately looked straight up into the undead baboon's face. Her ears lay flat, but she didn't look away.
"I owe you an explanation, I think," she continued after a few seconds. "I was avoiding you last night. To protect you. There are creatures somewhat like you where I come from. Like, but... unlike. Savage. Not thinking." Kerya's sombre mood broke for a moment with a mischievous grin: "And none of them would hold a carriage door for a lady, as I think you did when we escaped the club."
She held up her hand and looked down at it as she wriggled her fingers, as if getting rid of a cramp. "There is something else: the dead who walk are sometimes attracted to magic, and those who use it. A mage who is not trained to attack immediately when encountering one may find her throat bitten out before she can blink. It has taken me this long to... get used to you, if you will. Last night I was fighting my training. Now, I am quite sure I have it under control."
Mel arrived at the coffee shop a minute behind Kerya. She noticed the stoat was in line to purchase more coffee. "Is that wise?" She dumped out her much smaller bag onto the counter beside Ignatz. She gave him, and the pink sunglasses, one look then pushed two pairs of sunglasses closer to him. Both were black and somber, the only difference being one had rounder lenses and the other more square. "You might prefer one of these." She added one of the city guides to his pile then went to work stashing the gauze and painkillers and other first aid items in her pouch. The dragon left the bag of mints on the counter for whomever wanted them. Then she picked up the second city guide and began paging through. Her ability to memorize meant that one pass through was all she needed then the guide could be passed along to another party member as well. It wouldn't hurt to have as many members able to navigate the city as possible. "Where to next, Ignatz?"
Cog glanced at the bat. "I didn't say you were." he said, taking a drink, and sniffing in the salt sea-air. Languidly, he turned and looked out over the bay. "And if you need to get away from him, I understand. And I could care less about the other one. And I'm sure you do know what you're doing." he took another absent drink.
He paused for a moment. "If you're trying to get away from him, I'd figure out why he wants to kill you, first. It doesn't have to be large. Anything that catches his eye as heresy. You might be able to gauge just how important it is to him, then." he glanced at him. "I'm sure you already know all this. But I wouldn't write him off as easy to lose, either. This is what he does. And so far, we're blending in rather well, I think." Cog said, turning his glance away from the hyperkinetic stoat and Stygian's newfound star-shaped sunglasses.
"If he does find us again...well. Understand, that I...well." he paused. "I've been looking for him a long time. I'm not going to give up an opportunity like that."
The bat shook his head and made a grumbling sound. 'An opportunity is only truly an opportunity when you know what to do and can manage to do it. Otherwise it is a missed chance. Are you so sure of your own purpose? And of the consequences?' He would have looked at the wolf, but his voice was questioning enough. 'I for one at least have no reason to face him, unless he comes across me. I would, actually, like to keep it that way.'
For a short while, Stygian merely listened around and contemplated his next words. He could hear no sign of Keaton, and while Gareeku and Aisha were still out wandering... The former they could afford to lose, for the time being, but that would most likely drag the panthress away with him.
'To wherever we can resupply and then arrange further transportation. We'll get no longer in the direction we want to go on the railway', he responded to Mel this time. 'We really should leave town quietly and covertly. It may seem that they care little who comes and goes in this town, but that is hardly the truth. And when anything that costs comes into the equation...'
Smirking meaningfully, the bat turned a bit and opened his eyes a crack. Only then did he notice the ridiculous glasses. He thought they had felt odd, but... Carefully, pinching them as if dealing with something filthy, he took them off and put them in the breast pocket of his jacket. Then he gave a glance at Kerya, and finally a different one toward Mel.
Contrary to the bat's belief, Gareeku was not out wandering. He had in fact been nearby the whole time, merely staying quiet as the others looked around for themselves. As the other looked around the shops, the wolf had stood outside them. He wasn't interested in any of the tacky products that were being sold. Besides, he had been here before, and from the looks of things nothing had changed.
The wolf simply nodded to himself at the bat's words, smiling to himself only slightly when Stygian finally noticed the oddly-framed glasses adorning his face. He managed to keep a snicker from escaping him, however, and drank down the rest of his drink.
"There's another pair on the table." he said, setting the paper cup down. "Better ones. You should thank Mel, I think."
He stretched, his face quickly composing itself once more. He sat silently a moment before speaking again. "You speak truly. But I have had a long time to think about it." he shifted on his seat. "And I know what I can do, and how I might do it. We'll see if it works. But you are, of course, correct."
He shrugged. "If it's as you say, a merchant city isn't going to like us breaking or burning things, which seems to happen a lot, recently. Supplies and whatnot shouldn't be too hard."
Richard blinked at the stoat, what she was saying sinking in. Even disregarding the fact that someone half his size was worried that they could have hurt him (she was a mage, it wasn't too far fetched; God made furrae, but Zingauru made 'em equal), she was essentially apologizing for being scared of him.
He thought back on last night, in the car on the way to the train, where he'd been surrounded by so many people in such close quarters who were so very alive...
"Guess that makes us even then," he rasped, trying not to let his thoughts show (not particularly difficult), "Thanks. I'm not someone most people really try to get used to. And by the way, the word you were looking for was 'curse.'" He didn't have lips to smirk with, but the edges of a cynical smile tugged at the edges of his eyes, "Diabetes is a condition. I'm dead. There's a distinction, and I don't mind calling it what it is. So..." One ragged eyebrow tilted, "Where exactly ARE you from anyway? I think I missed it in the hubbub last night."
Kerya cocked one ear and smiled wryly at Richard's comment. "I think it would help if we do get along," she said, "or at least tolerate each other — lest we find ourselves in some improbable bard's tale where a group can be tricked into fighting one another at the least excuse. Although that may be a problem with Keaton and Dierdre; it appears they have met before, and — to put it mildly — not as friends. I hope Sebastian was... persuasive enough last night for them to hold their peace."
The little stoat sighed and scrambled up onto one of the stools lining the shop counter. It was a slightly ridiculous sight for someone of her body shape: her short legs reached less than half-way to the floor, but her long body almost put her head higher than Richard's. "As for myself," she continued, "I am from somewhere... different from here. I suspect it is probably another world altogether, there are so many differences. The magic here is not quite the same. Many types of people, like yourself and Dierdre, do not exist back home. And I only saw one moon in the sky last night, and it looked all wrong. I came here by accident, one of my spells... aheh... misbehaved slightly, and I found myself in an alley in Haszal about a week ago. I have been trying since then to return home, but the spell that took me here does not work here without some adjustment. Mel has given me some aid which is helping me find out how I need to alter my spells, but it is slow work."
Kerya's ears were held so low it was hard to tell if she was blushing. What she'd revealed of her situation was bad enough: she was not about to confess to all and sundry that she'd arrived in that alley by slamming hard into a wall, upside down, then slid to the ground and landed head-first in a bucket.
'Yes, well...' Stygian broke in on Richard's and Kerya's conversation, 'While I can understand your unwillingness to remain in such an insane place as this, I think you can live with us at least, can you not?' He tilted his head lightly, and barely a fraction of his eyes showed through the squint. There was a minor black 'edge' to the contours of his face, where the light fell upon him. 'Even though we happen to be either horrid unliving things or monsters, for the most part.'
Turning around to take up the sunglasses Mel had offered, placing the round ones on the back of his nose and adjusting them slightly, the bat took a coffee as well, turning away from the light streaming through the windows, before looking around a bit as if searching for an exit.
'What say we get out of here and find ourselves something to eat while we search?' he finally offered as he put down his payment for the coffee, beginning to slowly walk away and not really waiting for an answer.
Stuffing the bag of mints in her pocket Mel then handed the remaining pair of sunglasses to Cog and the now memorized city guide to Gareeku who had been watching silently. Checking to make sure she hadn't left anything behind the dragon followed Ignatz to the exit.
Saying nothing, the wolf stood up from the small table and stretched, teeth gleaming in the sunlight for just a moment before following. His gray tail swished behind him as he looked around, and tilted his head. They were missing one.
"I'll go find Keaton, then. Just a moment." Cog said, turning and heading towards the stairs to the upper level.
He took a deep breath. The wind, as it was, made it difficult to smell anything other than the sea-breeze, but the yellow and black jackal had a rather unmistakeable scent as well - it was angry, overlaid on top of a strange sort of glee, and all mixed in with another acrid smell that might make your nose bleed if you multiplied it over a few hundred times. It somewhat reminded him of cinnamon on maple sryup and a bottle of 190 proof moonshine liquor.
Even with all that, the breeze still made it difficult. It was a few minutes later that he saw the jackal inside one of the small tourist shops, looking pointedly at something in the window. He walked in, coming up next to the Jackal and coughing softly.
"I think we're going." he said, standing a little behind the yellow succubus.
Kerya made a half-amused, half-annoyed tsk'ing noise in Sebastian's general direction as she hopped back down off the stool. "Silly bat," she murmured quietly to Richard, "does he really think I would run away home the moment I have repaired my Portal spell, and abandon you all? I have offered my help, on my word, and I shall do so." She picked up her shopping bag, settled her staff more comfortably, and directed a "shall we go?" look at Richard as Sebastian sauntered away from the shop towards an exit.
Richard blinked once or twice at Kerya's story, not sure which line of questioning to go down (His options being There any more of your people in this world? and Are you crazy?). He eventually settled on taking things at face value. After all, it would explain her strange body type. So would a tiny dash of mythos heritage, but the odds of that verses her story were roughly equal.
Stygian's interjection took the matter out of Richard's hands, and the zombie shrugged as he followed Kerya. Well, lets see what sort of trouble we'll cause today.
Aisha had also done very little wandering, contrary to what anyone had thought. One thing was for sure, as the way she and Gareeku were usually so silent, it may have been hard to even pay attention to where they were at all. Fine with me, the panthress chuckled to herself as she continued to lean against the wall nearby him, watching the others. Adventurers make a career out of trying to be inconspicuous... ser claro, it's hard to do carrying a sword around.
For a little bit, Aisha tried to think and to hope that so much trouble wasn't really going to follow the group. If she were to choose, she'd more likely rather fight than see more innocents fall along their trail. But who knew if it could be helped...
Her ears perked then, suddenly having noticed the very energetic mustelid rushing about (Aisha wondered how Kerya hadn't even bitten her tongue, speaking so fast...), and her antics. Surprisingly, the snort of amusement she meant to release instead came out as a suppressed snicker, almost on the verge of a laugh. It was quick, but it was the first time that any kind of positive emotion was shown from the huntress since the last night. Maybe the dream was best forgotten.
She watched as the group started to come back from their wanderings, and as Kerya started to finally calm down. Then, an ear quirked in the bat's direction as he announced leaving the place and finding something to eat while they figured out what to do, and thus it was time for them to move on.
At the mention, her stomach made a low but audible grumble...the mind thought food a good idea, but the midsection was quicker. She rolled her eyes. "Sí, I wouldn't mind a proper breakfast for this morning," she muttered. "Big and friggin' filling."
...Keaton:Intently focused as she was on her current activity, Keaton didn't see Cogidubnus approach her from behind, nor did she realize his presence until he attempted to gently alert her. Unfortunately, gentleness seemed to have no effect on her exacerbated reaction, particularly the loud yip she emitted and the great shudder which rocked her body - the object in her hands was nearly sent flying and would have sailed through the air if Keaton didn't lash out and grab it in a considerable display of reflexes. Something round, flat, and clearly metallic hit the floor amidst the bedlam with a resounding ring. All Cogidubnus saw was a glint of silver before it vanished between the yellow-black digits of Keaton's right hand and Keaton whirled around to face him at last. Her expression was quite shellshocked, accentuated by the aslant tilt of her glasses atop her muzzle. She quickly reached up and angrily plucked her glasses off her nose.
"Did you have to be so damn
silent!?" Keaton hissed in an impatient whisper. She purposefully kept her voice down so to not attract the unwanted attention of the tourist shop's lone and very overworked employee. Already the middle-aged raccoon was looking at her in a slightly sharp manner. "God, I think my heart jumped into my throat, thanksverymuch."
Keaton mumbled something obscene under her breath and peeked at the silver-something nestled against her palm. Her other hand was busily fidgeting in her pocket. There was a slightly muted flash of white from within the confines of her pocket as Xianxi offhandedly warped Keaton the remainder of her limited finances (at least what she hadn't saved for emergencies), and then she withdrew a rather beaten wallet. Keaton leafed through the meager amount of money folded inside of it, counting the bills and then the change secreted within the secondary compartment, and then groaned, her arms slumping. She looked almost like a teenager dramatizing the newest curfew her parents had just set, and the melodramatic moan she emitted only emphasized that caricature.
"God-
DAMMIT, I'm a dime short. I -" Before she could continue that tirade, she noticed the dime which was resting at her feet, grinned triumphantly, and leaned down to scoop up the coin in the same hand which held that mystery-object. At this point Keaton was absolutely bursting with what appeared to be unbridled delight, her toothy smile as bright as the sun.
It was quite frightening.
Without giving Cog an opportunity to talk, still, the raging whirlwind of overjoyed jackal cheerfully dashed over to the counter and slapped down her wallet on the countertop, the dime and the silver-thing following with a significant amount of gentleness. The raccoon eyed Keaton morosely, looking somewhat unimpressed with her overwhelmingly joyous demeanor. Although she stared at the money Keaton offered like it was impregnated with a foul and deadly acid, the raccoon accepted it without hesitation and took the silver thing off the counter. The raccoon dropped it in an uncharacteristically-adorable bag covered in tacky, lurid colors and then handed it to Keaton other than a "have a nice day." Utterly oblivious to the insincerity behind that statement, Keaton gleefully took the bag and walked over to Cog after scooping her now-empty wallet up and pocketing it.
"Okaaaay then!" Keaton said with that disturbingly out-of-character grin on her face. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"
---
...Deirdre:Deirdre finished her Java not long before Stygian announced he was going to leave the shop. Sighing a little, the Gryphon noncommittally stood up and discarded the empty Styrofoam cup in a nearby wastebin, then turned to follow Stygian out of the store. Eating something after such an unsatisfying and shallow sleep didn't sound so bad. Her oh-so-sunny disposition was beginning to fade, even with coffee. After all, she was being seen in public without her make-up and with her hair in a mess.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Cog bowed slightly, a slight grin suffusing his features. "My apologies." he said, moving backwards to allow the jackal room to continue what she was doing. She seemed somewhat preoccupied, and he pretended not to notice as something white flashed inside her pocket.
It was slightly more difficult to ignore the almost-deranged smile on her face as she located her lost dime. She had very long and very white teeth indeed.
He stood politely as she checked out, and tilted his hat just slightly as she spoke to him again. "I said I think we're leaving." Cog said, looking at the rather eye-achingly bright bag she carried in one hand. He turned to leave the shop, and coughed in one hand.
"If I may ask, what did you end up getting, there?"
...Keaton:
Keaton pushed open the door in front of her and stepped out into the sunlight, beckoning for Cog to follow her. Once the lycanthrope pursued her, Keaton addressed his question, still hugging the eye-burning bag close to her chest. She looked almost awkward, now, considering he had encountered her in such an elated state.
"Er, right. About that... it's a souvenir. Remember what I said about snowglobes to Styg?" Keaton raised her pierced eyebrow and grinned in an uncharacteristically awkward way. "Well I couldn't find any so I grabbed the next best thing instead."
It was a rather odd transition, going from cursing Stygian's name after last night to gleefully shopping for souvenirs for him, but Keaton wasn't exactly a very rational person when it came to her emotional patterns.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Cog gave the yellow jackal a smile. "I'm sure he'll love it." He said, being careful not to entirely meet the jackal's eyes. A slight grin still suffused his features. He wondered what the item might be – he wasn't exactly sure what the next best thing to a snowglobe was, entirely.
Either way, it wasn't long before he saw Deirdre following the rest of them outside from the corner of his eye, and descending the stairs with the succubus began to again follow the party.
Strolling away and looking a little odd in the morning in his clear-white suit - he would have to fix new clothes - and round glasses, Stygian headed for the nearest obvious exit. Another guard watched that one, though he seemed more busy speaking into a wall-mounted telephone than watching the people exiting the station, a not inconsiderable stream of creatures of all kinds.
'I've had lots of people swear to me, on their word and honor', he commented over his shoulder, ears slanting a little. 'It gets tiresome after a while, actually.' Exactly what he meant by that, which by his tone might not have been literally what it sounded like, he left it up to them to interpret.
Almost at the exit, the bat stopped all of a sudden, ears perking up and twitching. He stood there for a moment, before they swiveled a little, and he turned his head to look in the direction of the approaching jackal and wolf.
'We're going for brunch', he said, over the murmur of the crowd around, when he thought Cog would be able to hear.
Kerya made a very quiet noise that might have been a tiny little "hmf" at Sebastian's words, before she flicked her tail and turned back to Richard. "So... last night... Sebastian assisted me with a small difficulty when we met at the club, and the rest of the events of last night I think you know," she said. "What of you, Richard, how did Sebastian's little venture sweep you up and give you a part to play in it?"
One of her ears flicked towards the bat as he announced where they were going first. She hoped that wherever he was leading them wasn't too far away. She really ought to have eaten something last night, but the stress of the escape from Haszal, plus the shocks she'd recieved later on the train, had taken away her appetite. Now it was back, and she was definitely hungry.
Cog nodded to the bat's comment absently, an ear twitching. He increased his pace a little bit, and let his arm rest across his sword hilt. Ah, brunch. Nothing quite says 'making good time' like a nice pause for brunch.
Cog's stomach growled. His eyes looked to the side for a moment, behind his glasses.
Perhaps a bit of brunch would be nice, then.
...Keaton:
Keaton's elation only increased after Cogidubnus's encouragement. Grinning wildly, she squished the bag tightly to her chest in an embrace which would shatter a living creature's skeleton. "Yeah, well, he'd better," she said in a manner far too cheerful and saccharine-suffocated to sound threatening. "Because it cost me a freakin' fortune."
Actually, it cost her thirty dollars, but that was more than she ordinarily made in a month.
Speak of the devil (no pun intended), she heard Stygian's voice call over the sound of the bustling crowd a moment later. An almost unhealthy amount of exuberance burst from Keaton's features as she instantly responded to this, barreling through the most immediate gap in the crowd of people so she was standing right in front of the bat. "Hey Styg!" she exclaimed, "Hey remember what I said before about the snowglobes? Well they didn't have that, so I got you something EVEN BETTER."
Well, what she said to Cog was the next best thing, but she needed to spice up the introduction of her AMAZING GIFT.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The bat stopped and turned against the jackal at her sudden exclamation. His eyebrows shot up a little over the round bows of his dark glasses, and he leaned his head to the side a bit and ran a hand back through the right side of his hair, a little sign of his confusion. Both Keaton and Cogidubnus had seen it before. Whether if he knew about it or not, one couldn't be sure. But he seemed to do it when he couldn't really think of a response immediately, much the same as when he thumbed his earring.
'Well, that's great. I just hope that it's not going to be something like the tie clip you gave me before...' Stygian said, the last part of the sentence more of a murmur. When he first met the jackal she had been far less cheerful around him, probably seeing him more as a threat or a rival. The tie clip in question was one of several tricks she'd pulled on him, just like he had on her. She'd replaced his actual one with a cursed duplicate, and his necktie had promptly grown teeth and tried to strangle him. More bothersome than harmful to someone like him, sure, but then again he didn't think she had known that back then...
...Keaton:
Keaton continued grinning in that positively exuberant manner, thrusting her hand into the bag and rummaging around amidst the colorful nest of paper cushioning its interior. Despite the fact she remembered the tie-clip incident as clearly as Stygian apparently did, the memory of that particular episode didn't jostle her resolve in the slightest. "It's even better than that!" Keaton answered without really thinking, and her hand closed around something sleek and slippery tucked in the bag.
In a quick, fluid movement, she whipped out her hand, and proudly displayed the object pinched between her digits in front of Stygian with a proud and grandiloquently-exclaimed "ta-DA".
It was a cigarette lighter. It was not translucent or a particular color like the mundane specimens seen being used by most people, but it was made out of an untarnished, polished silver, highly reflective and luminescent in the sunlight. Sinuously engraved into its side was a highly ornate "S," accented in black.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Richard kept pace with Kerya, smirking slightly bitterly at her question.
"Swept me up..." The zombie gave a wheezing laugh, "Sounds pretty damn apt, actually. Bowled off my feet and dragged kicking and screaming by forces I can't fight, but still tried to for appearances sake. I'm just sitting in this filthy old dive of a bar, minding my own business, when I end up talking to someone I actually take a liking to against my will. Then some jackasses chasing after the other jackass smash in and burn down the bar," he jerked a thumb at Stygian a decent distance away, "We end up following along with tall pale and brooding over there for awhile, losing track of the person I'd taken a liking to along the way, and I try to excuse myself from the group when I see these maniacs kill a few cops and leave their car in a damn tree." The undead's voice grew more vehement, his rasp harsher, "I get home to find a trio of thugs at my damn HOUSE, with my roommate taken hostage. Still don't know how they pulled that off, I've seen that woman bite through the base of a cubi's headwings, both of 'em at once. Anyway, they drag me along while they try to chase down the rest of the gang and I end up at the Red Sands, handcuffed to the baby of these three Stooges. I manage to give him the slip..." He shrugged, "And here I am."
In a group of strangers, the only thing I have in common with them being that the same people want us dead, not knowing if I'll ever be able to get home or if Marya's alright OH GODS IS MARYA ALRIGHT-!?
"It's been a rough couple days."
The bat almost flinched when Keaton snapped out her hand. Knowing her, whatever she held might jump up to bite his nose. That wasn't what really bothered him though, but her overly gleeful demeanor was. She had to have something planned if she looked like that. His suspicions proved unfounded though, when the object in her hand turned out to be a silvery lighter, and a classy example of one to add. He looked at it closely, then reached out his hand to pick it from her with a thumb and index finger.
'Nice', he said appreciatively, then looked up at the jackal with some caution in his eyes. 'It's not going to explode?' Carefully, he flipped the lid back, and lit it. A strong, blue-bottomed flame instantly flared up from the perforated head. The bat studied it for a second, then whipped his hand and snapped the lid back on. 'Thanks, Keats. Now, lunch?'
Twisting around on his heel, the bat set off at a more brisk pace toward the exit. His hand fumbled at his pocket for a moment, before he realized that what he was looking for wasn't there, at which point he just sighed and slipped the lighter down into it instead.
Cog took note of the ornately filigreed lighter that Keaton had handed over to the bat, and raised an eyebrow in surprise at the bat's somewhat reluctant acceptance of the trinket. It seemed oddly suited to the bat - a curving, sloping S figure accented in some sort of black enamel. He wondered what the S was actually supposed to represent - he hadn't actually caught the name of the store, anyway...
Perhaps they have lots of letters. he thought, moving just a little behind the rest of the group. Now that he was aware of his hunger, he began to wonder where they were all headed to.
Already the street that the group stepped out on proved a rich variety, like a sun-lit collage of the diversity of Furrae, packed into a common street. No longer did they stand out. Not even Stygian in his odd suit and glasses managed to do less than fit into the place. Colorful merchant's or craftsman's shingles and the occasional flag hung over the heads of the passersby walking down the street, their bottoms brushing some of their heads. Not a few of the passersby were colorful themselves, and a couple of them sported horns or tentacles on their heads as well.
Considering that it was near the station, it wasn't hard to find a place to eat. Two restaurants were readily within sight, and on the corner a siamese cat was standing out selling some sort of grilled meat and vegetables on spits, along with wok. The fumes from the hot plates of his stand wafted up the street and sent a heavy, spicy aroma their way. Stygian glanced that one's way, the smell causing the flared tip of his nose to twitch.
Kerya's ears and whiskers perked up at Richard's reply. "Like that, was it?" she said quietly. "I know how that goes, I have found myself suddenly and unexpectedly in the middle of such events more than once. I admit that what Sebastian told us last night is worrying. But I am sure the..." she paused and counted quickly under her breath, "... eleven of us, are capable of dealing with whatever problems we face. Although," she grinned wryly, "I am sure it will not be easy!"
As she walked out onto the street (with a slight squeak of alarm as she almost caught her tail in the door), Kerya looked around in fascination. Just like Haszal, the place was crowded with a huge variety of different kinds of people, again, many of them unfamiliar to her. Unlike Haszal, Jann's Cliff had more of what Sebastian had called "Creatures" — the more exotic types. She saw some mixed bird types, like Dierdre, at least one giant serpent, and several different kinds with wings. People-watching could wait, though, as something much more important came to her attention: mouth-watering scents, drifting towards her on the morning breeze. Kerya's stomach made a distinct gurgling sound.
"My apologies, Richard," she said with a slight blush in her ears, "I have just realised how hungry I am, and how many marks it has been since I last ate anything." She raised her muzzle and sniffed delicately. "Oh, that meat smells delicious! And... it must go by a different name here, but I could swear I can smell the sauce that goes with crottled greeps!"
The street was crowded, and the percentage of creatures in the crowd was remarkably high. But then trade towns weren't usually picky about anything but profit. Mel didn't spot any other dragons in the crowd, but her kind tended to be secretive. This first sight of the town for the incoming tourists was clean and brightly decorated. And scented. The party seemed to be making a beeline for a street vendor grilling spicy meat.
While the others strolled around, or looked for places to eat, Stygian was held up for a moment, looking at the sky through his new sunglasses. A rising airship the length of a football field was drifting across his field of vision, casting its enormous shadow on the buildings just down the street. To leave with an airship... Anything without interruption was good. Good for them. And he had neither reason nor the will to delay. Nor to let them stop and distract themselves.
'Damnit, I need a smoke... Can we please stop being so sluggish?' he said, to no one in particular, then punched Cog lightly in the shoulder and began walking down the street toward the food vendor. 'Let's aim for an airship.' Yes, let's... Then he'd speak to Aisha and Keaton. 'We should consider getting some new... dress as well.' By that he meant disguising themselves, but he wasn't going to say that out in the open. He was always attentive, now that they were in a new place especially.
Cog gave the bat a glance after he swatted the wolf in the shoulder, then looking up at the sky at the airship remark. High, but not quite high enough above them for comfort, was a massive three-hundred foot zeppelin wheeling in the sky above them. Cog rose one eyebrow, and followed the bat towards the street vendor.
The bat's nuance about getting new clothes didn't escape the wolf's notice either. Cog put on a somewhat sour expression behind his glasses - there wasn't anything to be done about it, of course. A disguise was almost a necessity at this point.
The smells of grilling meat and spices wafted up to the lychanthrope's nose.
After leaving the station, the course of the town came into easy sight. For Aisha, it beheld a vibrant variety of life...although, beneath her hooded cloak, she regarded a few of the passerby who had horns with a bit of suspicion. Sure, she could keep her attitude about demons in check for the remainder of the trip (if only for the group's sake), but that didn't mean it wouldn't warrant a slight, silent growl or two.
At least that feeling wasn't to be long-lived, so long as nothing else happened. The panthress soon turned her sights to the street around them. She was thankful that they wouldn't gather much attention in the crowd...she wondered for a moment, even, if it would do any harm to stay for a small while. But of course, suddenly hearing the bat's reminder that they shouldn't be dawdling, Aisha was ready to comply. But first, food...the others seemed to be following their noses to the gratifying taste of the meat-kabob vendor between the restaurants. She felt tempted to take something from inside of the buildings rather than the street-side stand...but if they were so tight on time...and Aisha did want to save her coins. So, the cheaper way was the way to go.
Dios mio...so much for a proper breakfast. But at least it might be filling, the huntress thought with a sigh and a shrug, heading over to buy whatever smelled so good...she guessed cuts of beef and veal, but thinking was left to the connoisseurs. "I'll grab something for you too, Gareeku, if you'd like," she smiled to her comrade on passing, a bit of money clinking around in her palm while she observed the others wander about.
When Mel noticed that everyone was making for the sidewalk vendor she ducked into a small narrow shop wedged between the larger ones. Before the others got to the front of the queue she returned bearing a wax paper bag that smelled of fresh bakery goods and other things. Hearing Ignatz's remark on getting outfitted she thought of the city guide she had just memorized, "The shopping district is nearby to conveniently get the tourist money."
The bat looked sideways at Mel for a second before returning his gaze forward. 'Then let's conveniently pass by the magic and craftsman's district right after. I somehow doubt that merely a change of clothing will help...'
Stygian did not wait in line with the others. Obviously he wasn't hungry. Instead, he watched the crowd around them, and also, even more intently, Kerya, to make sure that she did not do anything foolish, as she seemed somewhat prone to...
...Keaton:"What?" Keaton looked slightly offended at Stygian's question, closely watching him examine his gift. "It's not going to
explode, doofus."
Not unless the souvenir shop was actually some sort of terrorist organization specializing in distributing explosives cleverly disguised as confectionery trinkets. If that was the case, then Keaton was certainly going to feel like a moron. Fortunately, the lighter in Stygian's hand was not an explosive. True to its function, it produced a brilliant, wispy flame from its crown once the cap was flipped back. Feeling secure in the fact she had actually selected a gift which wasn't going to spontaneously combust in someone's face, the smile returned to Keaton's face, positively glowing after Stygian thanked her. This time, she didn't seem manic or particularly insidious in her exaggeration - granted, the structure of her muzzle always inevitably bestowed her with some sort of wickedness to her smiles, even when it wasn't intentional. That, and Keaton was used to smiling for the wrong reasons.
Not needing to eat, and supplementing her stamina with the plethora of emotions she was ravenously feasting upon from the crowd of surrounding her group, Keaton wasn't as insistent as the others in obtaining breakfast. Instead, she folded her arms behind her head and happily flexed her shoulders in a rolling motion, humming and lashing her tail behind her. Really, she could do this all day. All she needed was a bit of entertainment at one point - she cursed the fact she didn't buy one of those interesting-looking music-storing devices from the souvenir store, but she couldn't afford it, plus she needed to upload the songs from a computer after she bought the thing.
---
...Deirdre:Deirdre walked behind the others, feeling somewhat more brisk after her coffee break. Still, like most everyone else in the group, she was rather hungry, as the gurgling gastric noises her stomach kept emitting attested. From what she could recall, she hadn't had dinner last night, since the festivities in the Red Sands were interrupted so spectacularly, and she didn't eat anything when she was on the train. Deirdre sighed, not bothering to hide her slightly irate expression as her stomach protested again at the thought of sustenance.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"I'm afraid I seldom wear anything but black." the wolf said, standing beside the snow leopard and chewing on a kabob. Not incredibly fond of sticking sharp things down his throat, he chewed the meat off from the sides. "Although I don't really need to change to disappear."
He swallowed, licking his teeth just briefly. "Not bad. I think it might actually be chicken."
Kerya was right behind Cogidubnus in the queue at the grilled meat stand. Her nose twitched appreciatively as she came closer to the front, until finally it was her turn. "One of those, and... oh, one of those, it smells delicious!" she said to the cat behind the stall. "Ah... just meat, though, none of that green stuff." She fished around in the concealed pocket in her robe for her money pouch as the cat assembled two fresh skewers for her.
This is the last of my local money, she thought. Ah well, Sebastian said this is a trade town, they should be just as happy to exchange my coins from home as the bankers in Haszal were — gold spends just as well, no matter the shape. The little stoat nibbled cautiously at one of the chunks of meat, and licked at the thick gooey sauce as she walked back to rejoin the others. She'd learned to be careful in Haszal when it came to food — quite apart from people who kept trying to feed her (ugh) vegetables, some things that appeared to be perfectly edible still gave her a spectacularly upset stomach.
All appeared to be well this time, though, and she began working through the skewers, neatly and almost daintily, but with impressive speed. She seemed to be barely chewing, just sinking her fangs into the next chunk, tearing it off the skewer, and swallowing. As she finished and licked the last of the spicy sauce from the skewer and her fingers, she looked up at the bat. "Did you have magical... alterations in mind, Sebastian, or something more mundane?" she asked quietly.
Casting a sidelong glance at Kerya, Stygian returned Cogidubnus' comment very simply. 'You wish', was all he said, before moving along and forcing the others to follow or lose their sole guide. Looking quickly over the shops and the people around, the bat strolled forth, flat shoes eerily silent against the pavement regardless.
'Yes, but I'd rather we address questions like that later', he responded to Kerya's question. Turning a bit to the side, he looked at her somewhat boorishly. 'If I can hear you clearly from six meters away, chances are someone else passing by can too.'
After making her purchase Mel quickly removed the meat onto a generous hunk of the warm bread she had just purchased. Eating sticky food with her fingers was a little too messy for her liking and the bread made a tidy handle. She offered the remaining bread to those nearby. Finding the sun a little bright and hot for her liking she produced a parasol from somewhere and followed along, parasol in one hand, impromptu sandwich in the other.
Cog swallowed. "You might not be able, but I'm sure someone could see a wolf wearing black and a four-foot mage from a lot farther than six meters." he said, and dropped the licked-clean wooden stick on the ground. "If anyone were to, say, ask a certain meat vendor, it'd be easy to know we were here."
He ajusted his hat, still following just behind the snow leopard. "Well worth it, I'd say. That was delicious."
Although eager to berate the others more, Stygian took Cog's point with a bit of bitterness, and kept on walking. They passed under a bridge suspended between two towering buildings, from which hung a number of banisters and a large advertisement for crafted items from a nearby machine shop printed on something alike a banner. The further they went into the town, the more of it seemed to be based on the foundations of old structures, and not just the cliff or the platforms that had been blasted and carved out from it. Jann's Cliff, in the sound between two continents and as a vital trading point, trading with and protecting valuable commodities, had been a coastal fortress, before it had even been a city. And as the town had grown forth upon the old fortress, so the bastions had expanded. Soon, the tower-like buildings and the bridges and jutting structures had become a part of the city's architecture, and not just the fortress itself. The two were inseparable now, the great majority of buildings interconnected somehow. Needless to say, the architects in Jann's Cliff had notoriously hard work, but were greatly admired. The same went for the plumbers.
The group hadn't ventured far before they happened upon an almost courtyard-like square with a fountain in the middle, and bright colors, stands and all manner of wares on display all around. About the same time they felt the close look of merchants and their guards alike, and became the target of several street vendors who were walking about and instantly recognized foreigners. A man in a large overcoat and a hood walked up to Mel, looking at her greedily and waving a finger beckoningly, then folded open one side of his coat and displayed a number of potions and magical and non-magical trinkets. A little winged monkey clambered up the array of extra pockets sown into the lining and took something in its hand, then grinned lopsidedly and displayed a little decorative, crawling beetle with an ornate, golden shell that Mel, in her expertise, recognized as a recording instrument that could be worn in one's hair like a pin and which could, upon demand, recitate all conversations that took place near the wearer within a couple of days time, within audible range and a bit below as well. Cog drew the attention to a peddler selling various cigars, a basset fellow with a walrus moustache that took up half his face. And Kerya, most remarkably, attracted a short, thin-haired and cane-brandishing old scrooge who after some intense study sidled up next to Aisha and asked 'where they had gotten that thing and what it did'. They had obviously entered one of the merchant districts.
Nodding politely at the seller of obviously very fine cigars, Cogidubnus made a brief bow before somehow moving past the man in a way he didn't quite expect. One moment he was telling the wolf about the quality of his tobacco, and the next the wolf was behind him and walking quickly.
The wolf used the crowd to his disadvantage, and hoped the man wasn't as persistent as he suspected he might be.
He paused a moment, looking for somewhere that sold clothes, and rested his arm across the hilt of his blade.
Kerya was preoccupied watching the crowd filling the square, and it took her a moment to realise what the little old man meant when he turned to speak to Aisha. She was annoyed briefly — this had happened in Haszal as well — then, while he wasn't looking at her, she winked and flicked an ear at Aisha, and caught the old man's attention by clearing her throat just loudly enough to be heard over the noise of the market.
"The mage can do many things," she said pleasantly, although with an edge to her voice on the second word that could have been used to sharpen arrows. "The mage can cause someone to become... unfortunate." A faint but distinct sparkle of light appeared at the top of her staff. "The mage can cause the unfortunate to become uncertain as to their body shape." Her eyes glowed, and tiny flames licked from them like animated eyebrows. The illusions — that was all they were — held for a moment, then faded, leaving the little stoat wearing her sweetest smile on her muzzle, looking perfectly nondescript and mostly harmless. "But at the moment, I am looking for directions to a merchant selling adventurers' equipment and supplies."
Mel looked at the street vendor for a moment. Amusing, but they didn't have the time to be distracted by merchants with toys. Shaking her head no and adding a discouraging look accompanied by a brief flare of magic she turned to see Kerya putting on a light show of her own to deal with a rather rude man. She chuckled a bit at the feisty response and how the stoat was trying to profit from the encounter.
Richard coughed awkwardly and tried not to pay too much attention to Kerya's talk of food, reminded of how his sense of smell had been assailed by the adrenline in the others' systems while they had been trapped in a vehicle with a mad griffon at the wheel escaping the city. He was lucky he wasn't alive, or his stomach would have rumbled.
Then they found their way to the merchant's square, constant susserus of people trying to make a decent living covering up the details of people haggling good-naturedly or otherwise. The zombie found himself completely without the ability to tear his gaze away from a fellow selling instruments. The fountain was, in a word, beautiful; it was the sort of things painters had their models pose on the edge of before summarily becoming famous. Like the rest of the town it was quite simply the picture of a lively and prosperous coastal town.
Richard unzipped his jacket and rested his hands on his tomahawks. The place was probably crawling with pickpockets; here was hoping the crude weapons scared them off.
The line at the food vendor had seemed to go atrociously slow to Aisha...but according to the satisfied looks on the faces of her comrades, the meat seemed to be worth it. The smell was indeed worth it, making her constantly-argumentative stomach beg for the food that her mind had promised. When finally she had made it to the stand, the coins paid for a few of the kebabs; some for herself, and some to offer Gareeku as she had said she would before.
It looked soon after that, following the ever-impatient haste to move, that the group started back onward and deeper into the city. The look of the place, the view...it was incredible. Aisha hadn't crossed the area very many times, let alone set foot into the full portion. But just knowing that the adventurer was going to be adding yet another area to her memories was one of the few things that made traveling--even frantic traveling--very worthwhile.
Of course, one wouldn't look at it to cross into the merchant district, where they were almost immediately almost tackled by a throng of salesmen. Aisha just had to roll her eyes and tuck her tail into her cape, where her ring wouldn't easily be seen. She especially didn't want it to be glowing in the presence of the greedy ones. At least some of the ones who had the look of stern warriors, like she and Gareeku, were left alone...at least until one individual who looked to be made of nothing but high-quality things looked Kerya over like a pet.
At his question, she had started a rather heated retort, but the diminutive mustelid already seemed to have it covered. In fact it made her snicker a bit, before she replied to the man herself. "Yeah. Rather you not speak of anyone here like they're toys, hombre."
Richard's worries seemed unfounded though. However diverse and unprejudiced these new surroundings, he still earned a few angry or disgusted stares, not openly but from the corner of his eye every so often. It seemed that few were willing to go too near him as well, why he was the only one left alone by the vendors around. Well, not the only one. Stygian too was ignored by even the more pushy of them, in spite of how his clothes should have revealed a good deal of wealth. Perhaps it was his determinate way of moving right through the square and on that put them off, purposeful and therefore hard to distract, or maybe it was some sense that he was too rich or important to be asked to bother with them. But it seemed more like they didn't notice him.
The group apparently didn't stand out enough that their arrival would last them more attention than any other new arrivals, and while they were assaulted by a steady stream of new proposals, they were disregarded as quickly as anyone else who wasn't looking to shop. Which really meant that they barely attracted more attention than the regulars and citizens.
In response to Kerya's indignation and Aisha's comment, the old man just shook his head, but didn't seem discouraged at all. 'Nonsense', he said, and looked at them both harshly, amber eyes almost glowing. 'I know. She's a curiosity. Not something like what you find around normally.' He tapped her calf lightly with the end of his cane and looked down at her with a gaze so appraising she thought he had her counted down to weight, height, hair length, condition and price in his head already.
Mel paused to see if Kerya needed any help with the persistent man rather than following on behind Ignatz and Cog. For the moment she just twirled her parasol and waited to see what Kerya's response would be.
Kerya rolled her eyes and sighed. Only Sebastian's hearing might have been good enough to hear her anguished whisper of "Lady give me strength... at least, to hide the bodies..."
The poking and prodding seemed to be the last straw for Kerya's temper. Something nudged the old man's stick away from one last poke, and the little stoat bounded back a pace, chittering and squealing something that might have stripped paint, if it had been in any comprehensible language. She dropped to all fours and bounded off through the crowd, only her natural agility and flexibility preventing her from bowling half a dozen people off their feet. Within seconds, she had vanished.
Hiding behind a hastily thrown up masking spell, Kerya took a cautious — and, more importantly, silent — step backwards, her concentration fixed on the illusion of herself until she steered it between two stalls, then let it dissipate. She had to be careful, though, the masking spell only hid her from the front. If she moved too far to the side, the old man would be able to see her again. And hopefully he didn't notice the illusion-Kerya only looked and sounded authentic: it had no scent, and she'd been careful not to run it into anyone, it would have gone right through them.
She really hoped that would be enough to discourage the old pain-in-the-tail, who only seemed to see her as a rare and valuable oddity. If he'd babbled on much longer, though, she would have genuinely lost her temper, in a rather noisy fashion — and Sebastian would have given her one of those looks again...
Still staying silent as the group moved through the bustling town into the merchant district, Gareeku narrowed his eyes as he watched one of them hassle the others, growling softly as he did so. He found them to be most irritable, but given his short fuse, that wasn't hard to do. Even so, the wolf kept one hand on the hilt of his sword, concealed by his brown hooded cloak as he walked with the others.
Mel noticed the gaps in Kerya's illusion. Figuring that the old man would probably get even louder and more persistant if he realized he was being tricked she discretely laid a second, more thorough, masking spell over the first. She did this while apparently watching the runaway stoat in as much surprise as everyone else.
For a few moments, it seemed that their little trick had the man fooled. Then, his yellow eyes narrowed, and he peered through the round glasses of his pair of pince-néz over at the stall where Kerya hid. He didn't look directly at her, but it seemed that whatever she had done, he had caught it. Before either she or Mel could do anything though, his gaze turned to the dragoness in disguise, his face critical.
'I see. Well then...' the old coot commented dryly, and then, turning on his feet, he put his cane before him and his hand in his pocket and strolled off toward a shop on the corner.
'Hey! What are you doing?!' a harsh voice came from behind Kerya. Her tremendously long neck bent down in a sleek curve, the giraffe saleswoman, busily folding a number of notes and bills in her long-fingered hands while she dealt with a customer who seemed to be buying boxes of something, probably spice from the way the stall smelled, bent down and eyed the stoat, while she kicked away something under the embroidered cloth and felt carpets thrown over a table next to her.
Kerya's head turned at the suspicious-merchant tone of voice from behind her... and came snout-to-belt-buckle with the speaker. She tipped her muzzle up, then a bit more, and more yet.
Gods, she's huge! the little stoat thought wildly. What is she, one of those Creatures Sebastian and Keaton warned me of? What does she want? To eat me?
Meep.
By her nature and temperament, Kerya wasn't easily intimidated by sheer physical presence. In the case of this towering apparition, though, she'd been caught by surprise. It took an effort of will to keep her face and voice calm: only her scent and a quick twitch of ears, tail and whiskers betrayed for a moment how much stress she felt, and how close she'd come to outright panic.
Kerya narrowed her eyes and stared coldly up at the merchant. "What I am doing is my business," she said, her voice a little slower and quieter, and much less expressive than it usually was. "What do you want?"
She was deliberately copying the manner of one of her more annoying tutors, a mouse actually a hand or so shorter than herself. She'd once seen Shula stare down an angry bear twice his height and ten times his weight, using only his towering arrogance and his air of superiority. She really hoped this time her act wouldn't make the situation worse. Quite apart from Sebastian's desire to avoid unwanted attention — something she shared — her nerves were beginning to fray.
The giraffe though, did not seem intimidated. Straightening indignantly, she kicked a sandaled foot out after the little mustelid, put down the box in her hands and took a step toward Kerya.
'Not behind my stand it isn't! Go on!' she said sharply, a bit of red beginning to hint at her muzzle, 'Beat it! Shoo!'
Kerya snorted disdainfully and turned away from the merchant and her stall, muttering "Few things would give me greater pleasure..." Considering her size and weight, she shouldn't have been able to stamp away, but she managed it nevertheless.
The little stoat's anger didn't seem to be entirely feigned; by the time she walked up to Mel and Aisha her ears were still laid back a little. "So... before anything else happens, has anyone found the shops we need yet?"
Mel nodded, "From the city guide if we keep on this street we will eventually end up in the area we need. But we should catch up with the others before anything else happens."
Aisha had just about had it with the stuck-up man whom they were talking to. Kerya had proven herself more alike one of the group, and yet she was still treated like she was some kind of pet. But she couldn't help but widen her eyes at the next thing to happen, when as she was tapped she indeed sped off like a wild animal...and disappeared. Whether or not it was some kind of trick, at least it did the trick.
At least it did until she came out of hiding after again being rudely addressed by another of the merchants. She smirked. By the look on the stoat's face, she had the same thoughts as perhaps a few of the others as much as the panther herself; it probably would have been in their best interest to just leave.
Listening to Mel answer Kerya, Aisha sighed with relief while glancing around for the others. "Good..." she muttered, and then smirked toward Gareeku. "You probably know this place better than I do, amigo, but I'm guessing I'm right when I say we shouldn't spend more time than we need in this district."
'Quite correct', Stygian's voice, even more viciously smooth than usual, sounded from behind the women. 'If we're done amusing ourselves?' He asked the question in a quite serious manner, but one could not help but feel as if he was being critical.
After a quick glance over Kerya and Mel, the bat again turned and began pacing off in the direction he had been headed, yet when he came to the edge of the square he stopped, and stood for a while, looking out over the crowd. They had three paths to choose further down the merchant quarter, two of which branched off immediately from the square and another a bit further down the rightmost of them. It didn't seem to matter much. The outlook was a blur of shops and shingles and flags and billboards and faces of all kinds.
'Check the map again. See if there might be some specific magic quarter, or if there is a way do go down under all of this', Stygian said over his shoulder. He just hoped that the others had actually followed him. He had troubles hearing or feeling anything distinct in a crowd like this.
Watching the events unfold, Gareeku raised his eyebrow upon seeing the stoat being shooed away by one of the merchants. Giving her an almost critical look for a second, the white furred wolf turned away and began to walk on silently. Hearing Aisha's voice beside him, Gareeku listened to what she said, and was about to reply when Sebastian's voice spoke up from behind him.
Ignoring the critical tone in the bat's voice, the wolf followed him to the edge of the square. Listening to what Sebastian said, Gareeku pulled out the map that had been given to him earlier by Mel and looked at it.
"There is a magical quarter, according to this map." the wolf said as he looked at the guide in his hands. It seemed that since he was last here, things had changed a little. "It seems as if it is situated down that path."
"It seems as if it is situated down the path that branches off to the right a bit after that path." Gareeku continued, referring to the path that was situated a bit further down the rightmost of them. "From there it goes underground."
Keaton and Deirdre:
Both Gryphon and Succubus were fortunately spared from the stampede of salesmen, both for drastically different reasons. In Keaton's case, she was probably wandering too far ahead of the group, her skipping having accelerated her pace to a drastic extent. For Deirdre, on the other hand, she was deterring any potential harassment by appearing unapproachable. It seemed, for a moment, the two had switched personas temporarily, with Deirdre looking utterly irate due to her lack of nourishment and the fact she was bereft of any cosmetics, and Keaton still suspended in her uncharacteristic state of elation. Keaton briskly kept walking somewhere behind Stygian, while Deirdre trudged in the back of the party.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
"Can we assume you are searching for some particular weapon in the magic quarter?" asked Mel, who had caught up with the bat. "Since you are the only one who knows what we are up against we are rather under your guidance in this shopping adventure."
With a sigh of relief, Kerya followed Sebastian as he led the group away from the chaotic market. Normally she didn't mind — too much — overly pushy merchants who made pains-in-the-tail of themselves, but something about that old man's manner had raised her hackles.
Up ahead, her attention was caught by a fast-moving fluffy yellow and black tail. It was nice to see Keaton in such a good mood; she'd seemed rather dour and sullen last night, and Kerya supposed the near-disastrous misunderstanding between the jackal and Dierdre couldn't have helped matters. The bounciness was infectious, though, and if the situation had been less serious the little stoat might have been tempted to join in.
Her ears perked up as she caught part of Mel's conversation with Sebastian. Something about magical weapons? She hurried to catch up before the bat replied, he might drop an important hint or three.
Raising his eyebrows over the rims of his glasses, the bat looked back at Mel at her question, and shook his head. Sometimes Mel was a little quick to guess that he wanted to hurt people, instead of just get rid of them. An effect of his occupation, no doubt.
'No, I was thinking something more alike a disguise, or maybe hiring an Aci to teleport us. I don't want to kill everyone, Mel', he said, a bit of amusement in his voice for some reason. He glanced around a bit at the nearby shops, speaking while not really attentive. 'If I didn't know that coverage can be such an issue sometimes, I'd suggest that we all get cell phones too... but really...' Turning back to Mel, he smirked a little at her. 'If you're really looking to be protected against Ace, for example, I'd suggest you carry a really big magnet.'
Then he noticed Kerya. Watching the energetic stoat a little and pondering her, he looked her straight in the eyes as well. 'And you, I think, would be the first candidate for a little masquerading.'
While apparently checking out the fashions as she strolled past the shop windows Mel responded, "I never thought you wanted to kill everyone. Who would make your tea for you then? But I did get the impression that it was the only practical way to deal with these particular acquaintances of yours." At least his comment on magnets was useful. When he went on to speak of disguises and of Kerya in particular the constantly disguised dragon gave her a once-over. "Can you do any shape shifting or hold an illusion for long periods, or do you need a charm?" Mel wondered if a local charm would even work in the presence of her alien magic style.
Kerya laid her ears back and shuddered a little. "A true shape-shange is... not an option, for the reasons I mentioned last night. An illusion is another matter. I do not know how you do things here, but that is usually one of the first spells our mages learn, and it was the first one I mastered." Between one blink and the next, the little stoat shrank slightly and became more stocky, her entire body shape and fur colour changing into a petite grey mouse, still wearing the same grey robes. Another blink, and she took on the appearance of a tall, elegant vixen, then a tubby ocelot, and finally the rabbit who'd attacked her back in Haszal... minus, of course, the wings on her head.
"I can keep a simple illusion such as this active as long as I need to," she said, and even her voice had changed to be very similar to Sebastian's memory of what the rabbit had sounded like. "It should hold even if I am knocked senseless. And... Mel, I think your skill at illusions surpasses mine — and my thanks for your aid back in the square — can you see through one without breaking it?" The illusory rabbit looked up at Mel, and her outline shivered for a moment before settling down again, apparently unchanged. Except now, if Kerya had done it correctly and this particular variation on the basic spell worked here, beneath the illusion of a blonde-haired white rabbit was the form of a zebra-striped rat, who seemed to have been almost... but not quite... successful at disguising the fact that she was wearing an illusion.
Having lost the others in the crowd some time ago, Cog stood quite aloof and calmly within the cool, air-conditioned interior of A & A's Tailoring, and browsing around the store as per etiquette more than any expectation of finding something in the racks, he gradually made his way to the counter. Arms still empty, he stood casually, leaning just a bit with one hand against the counter, and spoke to the clerk.
"I was wondering. Do you have something in...white?"
Mel looked the stoat up and down. "Very nice. I am not going to test it in the street but it looks sturdy. Perhaps you should watch the shop displays as we pass to get some ideas about local clothing styles." As the dragon gesture to the row of businesses she caught sight of their missing party member through a storefront window. "And there is Mr. Mithome. I wondered where he had disappeared to."
Fucking loonies just wandering the fuck off when I turn my back for two fucking seconds, Richard groused to himself, having stopped to haggle/bicker with the man selling instruments for far longer than two seconds. Where the hell did they wander off to... Fortunately the dead man managed to locate the other adventurers, sidling his way into the group and hoping nobody noticed he hadn't been there the whole time. And that he could find that highway-robber of an instrument salesman later with either more money or, failing that, less reasons not to give him a harder time.
Frowning slightly, Stygian kept his gaze steadily on Kerya for a while even as they kept on walking. If she wasn't in over her head, then he was brown and his name was Sugar.
'I'm not sure if you understand completely...' he said, hand in his pocket and toying a bit with the lighter that Keaton had given him. 'And I don't want to sound demeaning. But there are people, and creatures, in this world that can see right through magic like that. Or ones that can simply see magic, or who can identify it through sheer presence. You never know. And especially not in a place like this.' Pointedly, he glanced around at their surroundings and the people crowding the street they were walking down. 'Eclectic' seemed not strong enough a word to describe it.
'"Free", or Radical magic, tends to be much more easily affected than Condensed or Internal magic', the bat went on, as if Kerya was expected to understand the meaning of the terms. 'Generally, the more thorough you are, the better. Even if it sometimes makes things hard, and costly...' Then he caught sight of Cog, thanks to Mel's attention. Thinking that the wolf seemed to have made a good choice of shop, the bat turned, and headed for the front of the shop. Pushing open the door, he walked in just as the clerk finished his response.
'...assortment of white outfits. Perhaps if you could be a little more specifi...' he said, then caught sight of Stygian as the latter walked up next to Cog, glanced around, and then nodded to the wolf. The clerk just watched, round eyes darting between the bat's face and his suit, and then narrowed them a bit at Cog.
'Okay, did you do that?'
The wolf raised a single eyebrow at the clerk, and then looked over at the bat, who was looming over his shoulder just behind him. He stared at the white-suited bat for a moment before something clicked, and he turned back to look at the hapless steward.
"Yes, I see what you mean." he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps something in red, then. Classy, mind. I'm not for looking to be the inquisition here."
"Underground?" Aisha had echoed in a mutter beneath her breath when Gareeku gave the directions, taking a peek at the map while the others had started walking that way without another word said. "Huh, this place has changed." I can't even remember how far in I had ever seen. Certainly, Jann's Cliff was a fine example of how big cities tend to get even bigger in a fair amount of time. The panthress much preferred areas that weren't so noisy or crowded...but it was impressive, that she had to give.
As they went, she had barely noticed what they were speaking about. Perhaps more plans to evade those after their heads...killing this, running that...all she was doing right then really was keeping in step behind the others, alongside the wolf; and at the same time not trying to wander off, as her mind had done.
But her sharp ears did catch a snippet of something as they moved into a portion of the city that to her seemed more...colorful. "Disguises...that's no trouble," she muttered. When they had reached a crowd that was so numerous that all the travelers could really do was blend in, her hand came up to her cloak's gold collar. In one instant, the cape was her usual tone of blood red. In the next, it was a fairly dark blue with an outline of white all around, hood and all, still concealing her eyes. Rynkura would approve of the Healer color touch, the huntress smirked. Perhaps she overestimated her current stealth abilities, but if she couldn't hide then she damn well could fight.
She leaned against a wall when the bat turned into a clothing shop, crossing her arms and just looking around, and occasionally wondering how much it would set her back to indeed collect an enchanted weapon or two.
Kerya removed the illusion, then tipped her head to one side and cocked her ears questioningly. "If I am understanding you clearly, Sebastian, I should have only the lesser problem to deal with. Any source of power I absorb into myself becomes attuned to me, even if I make it part of my reserves. It is... possible for another mage to snatch that power and make it hers, in turn. That is ruinously inefficient, though, much of the power is lost when it is muted and converted." The little stoat grinned fiercely, showing every one of her needle-sharp fangs. "And there are ways of ensuring such an attempt is... hazardous. Spectacularly and fatally hazardous, if such emphasis is required."
Kerya looked thoughtful for a moment, her tail switching from side to side. "All this assumes we are both talking about the same things. That burst of wild power in the club last night was unexpected, and quite discomfiting — especially in its effects! If something as basic and straightforward as a power siphon can go so badly wrong because of fundamental differences between your magic and mine, I may have nothing to fear, or everything." She looked up into Sebastian's face, her ears held erect and a look of firm determination on her muzzle. "Can you suggest a safe way to find out? And do we have the time, if Sekhmet and her friends, and that winged jackal and his friends, are both still pursuing us?"
Rubbing his temple a bit, Stygian's glasses gleamed as he looked down at the stoat. He was rather unused to becoming overwhelmed with things to consider, but her question trailed out onto a whole lot of others. Focusing, he ran his tongue over his teeth, filtering away the clutter. First things first...
'I'm not sure if you understand what I mean. Those who I mentioned don't have to interfere in any way to see what you are talking about. It's not something active. It's innate. Passive,' he said. 'Genetic. I don't know how to explain it better than that.'
'Red?' the clerk asked Cog, and looked over him from top to toes. 'Well, I certainly didn't expect that.' He turned around, and walked around the counter, over to a few racks and shelfs against one of the walls, starting to sort between garments and fabrics.
'No one ever does', Stygian commented, out of the blue, and then looked down at Kerya once again. 'I'm not a magical theorist. At least, I haven't been in a long time. I deal with machines now. But I guess, if Mel would be willing to cooperate...' He sighed, then looked back out the windows of the shop. 'I actually don't think we have the time. I just want you to listen. Understand that you should try and minimize all risks, within the realm of effectiveness.' He muttered a little, and then looked down at himself. 'Speaking of which, I should get something new to wear.'
Mel poked around the bolts of fabric admiring some of the finer textiles. Unfortunately she knew she didn't have time to get anything new, all her clothing had to be enchanted to deal with size changes. She had been willing to risk the dress she had bought yesterday due to the unlikelihood of her reverting to her natural form in a crowded building. Regretfully patting a particularly nice bolt of blue silk she wandered over to the hat display to wait while the others made their selections.
Kerya's thoughtful look deepened as Sebastian continued his explanation. "Hmm, that is something I have not encountered before," she said. "Perhaps we could discuss it in more detail later, when we have the time... and a little more privacy." The little stoat swished her tail to indicate the crowded street — then she realised for the first time she'd been so distracted and lost in thought she'd followed the bat right into a shop. A wonderful shop full of clothes. Exotically cut clothes. Brightly coloured clothes. She stifled a squeak of delight and began to browse, with the fervour and single-mindedness of a true clothes-horse.
Cog's eyes seemed to brighten at the clerk's comments, and he smiled a toothy half-grin. "Unexpected? Really?" he paused, looking at nothing in particular. His glasses gleamed. "Well, excellent."
He leaned against the counter and waited for the clerk to finish sorting through his things.
Mel tried on a few of the hats in the display but despite finding a few she liked it was hard to know what to choose when she hadn't yet decided what she was going to look like today. Maybe something avian for a change. Seeing Richard lurking just inside the door and looking rather glum she popped one of the men's hats on the top of his head. "Stylish. But perhaps you would prefer the yellow one since we seem to be on a primary colors theme."
Richard was jerked out of his daydreams of cellos by Mel, the clothing on hand and almost preditory gleam in her eye qualifying as quite possibly a weapons-grade Distraction. Women offering him clothes often ended badly. Furthermore, yellow!?
"Appreciate it, but I usually don't opt for that look when I ain't playing." Richard replied with a nervous grin, passing the hat back to her. "Besides, I probably couldn't afford it. Musician, remember?"
Kerya glanced over at Richard as Mel plunked a hat on his head. She still had to deliberately suppress a shiver all the way down her spine when she looked at the Undead baboon, but she had to admit the hat suited him nicely.
More importantly, though, the little stoat was now faced with a particularly cruel dilemma. She'd found a dress made of clingy, sheer turquoise-blue material that nicely complimented her fur colour, and another decorated with frilly panels, that closely matched the colour of her eyes. Both of them seemed to be a good fit for her, but her funds were limited, and much as it pained her, Kerya would have to decide which one to buy.
Mel replaced the hat on Richard's head. "I would really rather the group's mission not fail because any single member lacks necessary items. Particularly when I have means." Without waiting for further protestations she began pulling items from racks and displays.
Not about to comment on what Mel was on about, Stygian looked around a bit, browsing the store's selection without too obvious interest. The dragon was so filthily rich that she could probably keep them traveling well for a couple of hundred years all on her own. Not that he would ever ask her to pay for them out of her own pockets though. Money wasn't an issue to him, normally. And clothes weren't really either, which explained his apparent disconcern.
'Tell me, do you sell anything else than clothes?' he said, with mild disinterest, sliding up behind the clerk and fingering a silk shirt.
'Um... this is a clothes store. But yes, we have a modest selection of shoes as well, if you would be interested...?' the cat replied, turning to the bat, who did not respond in kind.
'That's not really what I was thinking about...' Stygian mumbled. 'I was thinking more along the lines of... well, tailored items, perhaps. Or rarer things. Like...' He turned and gave the clerk an innocent, questioning look. Yet his tone turned a little suggestive. 'Furs?'
As Cog watched the clerk sort through his things, the wolf suddenly stopped him, and grabbed a few garments from the piles he was sorted. "Ah, just a moment. You have a fitting room, yes, of course you do, I'll just be a moment..." he said, heading towards the clearly marked rooms with several red-colored garments in two. The clerk blinked.
A few minutes passed before the wolf emerged, carrying his black clothes in one hand, and looking nearly completely different than he had before, and yet somehow still similar. He'd brought two items with him - a large, wide-brimmed red hat, and a large red coat that draped down past his knees. He'd concealed his sword in one side of the coat, keeping it vertical rather than it's usual horizontal, and it also served to conceal the rest of his clothing. The only thing's he'd changed seemed to be his hat and jacket.
"Excellent. You should have told me you had a greatcoat." he said, plopping down his old hat and coat on the counter. "I'm not made of money. Speaking of, I'd be obliged if you could hold onto these for me." he said, indicating his old garments.
Kerya wasn't really paying attention with more than half an ear to what the others were saying. She propped her staff and shopping bag against a display stand and held up the two dresses, one in each hand. Both of them seductively whispered "buy me" to the little stoat. She was keenly aware, though, of the weight of one of the pouches hanging from the belt hidden under her robe. It held what remained of her money, and none of it was local; she'd spent the last of that back at the railway station. The gold and silver coins were more valuable — in Haszal, anyway — than she'd been expecting, but when they were all gone... And she still needed to get supplies and equipment to replace what she'd had to leave behind in Haszal.
Ears and tail twitching, her gaze switching from one dress to the other, Kerya seemed to be lost in thought for a few minutes. Finally she sighed heavily and put the embroidered dress back on the rack. Draping the other dress over her arm, she retrieved her staff and bag, returned to the counter and caught the clerk's attention. "I shall take this one," she said, then fished in her hidden pouch and held up an oddly shaped coin, gold in colour and shaped like a slightly twisted wedge. "Can I pay with these? I have not yet had time to visit a changing-house."
Looking either confused or stumped for words at Stygian's question, the clerk did not even notice Kerya's question at first. Then, as he turned toward her, he looked right horizontally at first, missing her by a couple of feet, until he had the presence of mind again to look down. The moment he caught sight of the golden glint in Kerya's hand, his eyebrows immediately flew up a notch. Taking the little curve of metal and pinching it between his fingers, he studied it closely, scraping it with a claw, and blinking.
'Yes, I... I can safely say that this should be satisfactory. How many of those will you be needing?' he said, looking down at the piece of cloth in the stoat's hands.
Meanwhile, Stygian had turned away, and walked over toward one of the walls. 'Wow. Creative, Cog', was the bat's sarcastic remark to the wolf's choice of clothes. Meanwhile, he slipped off his white jacket, straightening it out and brushing it off. 'I guess I'll go right the other way. Do you have something green? With a vest, maybe?' he asked, not addressing anyone in particular, really, while browsing the shelves. He enjoyed suits and vests. They could be surprisingly silent and easy to hide things in, if made properly. He'd have to get a coat instead of a jacket though. It was easier to blend in with one, surprisingly.
In addition to the hat Richard soon found himself holding a dark suit, brilliantly yellow shirt, and a black tie that Mel had rapidly procured from a variety of displays. "That's a good start." As she stood debating whether adding a coat would be a good disguise for an undead who couldn't feel cold she heard Ignatz request furs. Was that an indication they were going somewhere with, to her, more pleasant temperatures? She was distracted from that thought when Kerya pulled a piece of metal from amongst the folds of her outfit. Even though she wasn't in her true form the dragon could smell high karat gold. Hopefully the clerk would give a reasonable exchange rate.
Richard was piled under further clothes before he could so much as voice a "no plaid!" Fortunately, Mel didn't have bad taste in clothing. Unfortunately, good taste wasn't necesarily Richard's style. The best disguise was one that nobody WANTED to look at, this was going to draw attention.
But damn was it suave looking...
Giving in to the inevitable he simply leaned against a convenient wall and let himself be piled down with things. If things got out of hand he'd put his foot down.
Watching the others drift into the clothes store, Gareeku thought about the fact that they were wanted individuals, and that a disguise for everyone was probably needed, including himself.
"I guess we had better get ourselves a change of clothes as well." the wolf said to Aisha from under his hood, before walking into the clothes store.
Once inside, Gareeku looked around at the different clothing the store had to offer, and there was a lot, too. The wolf knew that he would need clothes that would not made him particularly stand out, so that made choosing his new outfit slightly easier. Browsing the shelves and racks, he picked out the clothes that he felt would be best and most comfortable, before heading to the changing rooms and disappearing for a few minutes. Before long, Gareeku re-emerged, now dressed in his new outfit. Sporting a pair of blue denim jeans, complete with a leather belt, and a pair of black shoes, the wolf was also wearing a black long sleeved t-shirt underneath a red jacket, as well as a pair of black fingerless gloves on his hands.
After checking that he had all the things he would need, Gareeku then approached the shop attendants at the paying desk. Dumping his old outfit on the counter beside Cog, the wolf looked at the attendant in front of him, who seemed to be slightly wary of his demonic-looking eye.
"I wish to pay for the clothes that I am now wearing, If I may." Gareeku said as he pulled out the pouch that he kept his money in from one of the jeans' pockets. "I would also be very grateful if you could keep hold of my old clothing items for the time being as well. It would be very much appreciated."
Nodding slightly and watching the wolf out of the corner of his eye, Stygian hummed approval. Gareeku had the right idea. He was just about done picking together items of his own as well, going on quick measurements and fabric rather than trying things out. It was a pain finding a shirt that would fit his long arms without tailoring, but he managed to find one, and entered the booth rather assured that his own choice would fit.
'I don't think that you should store your wear here. We won't really be coming back in a while', he commented as he passed the wolf by, before entering the booth and pulling the draperies. 'I think perhaps we should pick up some bags.' He thought a bit. Since the clerk evidently hadn't understood what he had meant, he thought that it was best they move on.
The bat emerged from the booth, wearing a dark green 'ribbed' vest, black shirt, greenish-black coat and matching trousers, and new shoes. His former clothes over his arm, he produced a black leather pocketbook, and walked up to the clerk.
'Put it all on me. For convenience', he said, facing any pointed looks. They had to pick up pace.
As she waited outside of the shop for a bit, and as the others made their way inside, Aisha stood in thought for a moment. Was her cape really enough of a disguise? It was hard to keep cloaked forever, even in several changing colors, and perhaps her bravado would be too much for the situation at hand. They were all wanted, if most of them were indirectly involved. Their faces were worth a bit if they were seen, perhaps. Being a bounty hunter...now she was having to think from the prey's perspective. It annoyed her, but at the same time it was a challenge. Like the fox outrunning the hounds.
She glanced to Gareeku upon hearing his voice, and watched him walk into the shop. There was a second pause, before she decided to follow after. Sí, it's a good point. Heh, something casual to wear while on a running vacation. I'll keep my battle clothes in case though.
The others were already starting to don themselves in rather stylish implements, especially with help from Mel, which came as no surprise. But this time, she helped herself to a few things of interest and went towards the dressing rooms. Admittedly, even Aisha could get used to shopping...so long as it wasn't always formal.
When she came out, a hum of thought preceding, one could still tell that Aisha wanted to keep to her dark colors. She had on a pair of dark blue jeans with faint gray streaks of color, with the bottom edges ripped, and a matching sleeved vest. The shirt she wore under it was red and camouflage-patterned, and came down at the level of her ribcage, exposing her midriff. To top off the outfit, she had found a pair of sunglasses; perfect for hiding the tell-tale color of her eyes. They lay further down the bridge of her nose as she looked herself over. The only thing she still had left of her former outfit was the emerald tail ring, which she never afforded to go without.
Yeah, good enough.
Pushing the sunglasses back up to her eyes, Aisha had come out with her other clothes folded as tightly as possible with the rest in the pack. The cape hung over her arm, back to its original crimson, with her weapons hiding underneath it. It was just as the bat was talking to the clerk about it being all on him that she came within sight. "Nice of you, muchacho," she smirked. "Add one more."
While she leaned against the wall and waited, the panthress took the moment to look over the others in their new outfits, many of which were admittedly neat, although there seemed to still be indecision around Richard and Kerya. Gareeku's especially, she found pretty darned suitable for him.
Mel shrugged and put down the coat she was looking at when Ignatz gave indications of impatience. Richard was now slightly overdressed, but unless he refused the outfit he was rather stuck at this point. Since she had been amusing herself with the shopping it didn't seem fair to put it onto the bat's account. She walked over to the counter and dropped an appropriate amount of coin onto it.
Kerya's ears barely had time to perk up at the clerk's intriguing reaction to a single River City-States gold claw when Sebastian made his generous offer to pay everyone's bills. The little stoat's eyes lit up, a toothy, predatory grin appeared on her muzzle, then pausing just long enough to make a "back in a moment" gesture to the clerk, she dashed around the shop in a russet-and-grey blur, going directly for a handful of items that had caught her eye earlier. Within seconds she returned to the counter, plopped her finds on top of the green dress, then dashed off to the changing rooms with another bundle folded over her arm.
When she came out again, holding her grey robes in a neat bundle wrapped up in her cloak, Kerya looked rather more colourful. She wore a loose bloused shirt with intricate embroidering and lace cuffs, in a very dark silk that might have been blue or green, and a sturdy-looking red skirt, full-length (although possibly not on someone with longer legs), with her dagger hanging from the decorative belt knot. She wore shoes now, deep purple with long curled-up toes, and over everything she'd chosen a long green hooded cloak with gold knotwork embroidered around the hems.
"This shall suffice... for now," she said, with a luxuriously contented tone in her voice that was almost a purr, flicking a claw at a possibly imaginary speck of dust on her sleeve.
"I imagine we wouldn't be, yes. But then, I'd hate to see this hat go in the dumpster. It's served me for some time." Cog said, putting his silver back in his pockets. "And quite kind of you. If it's alright then, I'll sit here, then."
The tailoring shop held a good sized selection of shoes and footwear, and had one of those little benches where one could sit and try the various footwear on. He sat down, somehow still hiding the sword withing the depths of his new coat, and waited for the others to get ready. He shook his head slightly at Stygian's ensemble, and vowed not to walk near the man, lest someone suspect them of being some sort of festive, holiday act.
Kerya came out of the changing booth looking rather ornate, and he thought he could see Richard under a pile of clothes somewhere. It was a good thing he beat the girls here, or else he might be suffocating too.
His eye twitched weirdly when Kerya flew into action, but Stygian did not criticize her on her purchases. Rather, he just shook his head, walked up to the counter, and called the clerk over to complete the purchase. He only spoke up once he noticed the veritable mountain of clothes that Richard was laden with.
'No, we're done here', he said, a bit of a snarl entering his voice and a sharp look angling toward Kerya. 'This isn't a pleasure trip. Everybody out of the store.' Walking over to the door, he swung it open and stepped halfway out, before looking over his shoulder. 'Right away!'
It was a bit of a sign of his irritation, and his thinking that perhaps he shouldn't have given people so much space to dawdle, when Stygian practically knocked his head into Keaton's when he went out into the street.
...Deirdre:Unlike Keaton, Deirdre followed the group inside the store, but pointedly and consciously continued her efforts to isolate herself from the rest in the men's section. She scanned busily through the various clothing articles displayed in the racks, sometimes sweeping away the jackets and examining them in more detail, admiring the silken texture of the fabric. For a while, Deirdre fantasized about purchasing some of the more favorable apparel, as she knew she couldn't live off of Mel's charity for the remainder of... however long she was to stay with the party (not
too long, she hoped), but most of the clothing was far outside of her price range. Sighing, Deirdre replaced the striped jacket she was assessing in her hands back on its original place and started to follow Stygian outside of the store.
---
...Keaton:Keaton, meanwhile, decided to remain outside. She didn't like clothes stores. She preferred to design her own clothing through metamorphosis, since it saved money. Drumming her index finger to her temple, Keaton sighed and canted her head to the side. She was starting to consider finding a steady job, rather than thriving on temporarily impersonating unfortunate Being victims of her crimes and selling whatever came her way. Maybe a bounty hunter or an Adventurer slayer. She could really get into that last job; there was a red fellow in the SAI Academy who became an acclaimed Adventurer slayer...
Around that time, Keaton noticed the door was about to open, and glanced up, temporarily unaware of her current position. Stygian exited the door the same time she was about to instinctively move, and the two collided, Keaton squeaking loudly, effeminately, and jerking backwards with the impact. She lost her balance, her heavy boots supplementing the sudden weight disadvantaging her upended balance, and then fell over in a heap on the ground after a spectacular struggle consisting, mainly, of her flailing her arms wildly to try and regain her footing. From where she was on the ground, Keaton blinked wearily and cocked her brow, looking at Stygian's feet. A pair of feet quite similar to Deirdre's stopped behind him, the owner issuing a low choking noise which sounded like she was trying not to laugh, but was stopping his or herself only out of courtesy.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya looked up from stuffing her purchases into her now bulging shopping bag just in time to see Keaton fail spectacularly to get out of the way when Sebastian rushed out of the shop and shoved the door open with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. Behind him, Dierdre stifled a laugh at the sight of the jackal sprawled on her tail on the ground.
The little stoat snorted quietly, giving a slight flick of her whiskers, ears and tail. Hopefully Keaton and Dierdre would be able to hold their truce, and their tempers, at least for a little longer. She'd only seen a little of their fight outside the club last night: she had a pretty good idea that, if Sebastian hadn't intervened, not all of the mayhem and destruction would have been caused by the monster attack shortly afterwards. The last thing they needed now was to cause a memorable incident when they were trying to shake their pursuers from their tails.
With everything finally packed away, Kerya picked up her staff and the bulging shopping bag, and headed for the door herself. "Where now, Sebastian?" she asked, "I tried to get directions to another merchant earlier, but the choleric fool I asked only vexed me."
With Ignatz rushing them out Mel finished the transaction for the clothing and followed. Richard's passivity regarding her shopping had dulled her own interest. As she exited the shop she donned her own change of wardrobe. A petite snow leopard in grey exited the shop but a tall black swan in the traditional robes of an ancient mage school entered the street. Inner robes of a dark rusty red were covered by a deep indigo outer robe, heavily embroidered in magical designs the eye couldn't quite stay on. Unfortunately Ignatz and Deidre had stopped short and she couldn't see why.
Blinking, Stygian looked down at Keaton, then cocked an eyebrow over his glasses at Deirdre. Ignoring Kerya for a short moment, he bent down, and reached out a hand to the jackal succubus to help her up.
'I'm thinking that if things keep up like this, we ought to get a car or some bikes instead', the bat offered back over his shoulder, together with a pointed look. Never mind going undercover and finding out what is actually going on... 'Can I help you, my dear?'
Still quite silent, and his former hat and coat disappeared somewhere, Cog was leaned up against the wall and shaking his head at Keaton's inadvertent collision with Stygian. He pushed himself off the wall, smiling to himself, and waited for the rest of the group to collect themselves before exiting.
Aisha had to stifle a snicker while leaning against the wall, looking at the clothing pile that Richard was buried under...really, if there was anything to make an undead actually look presentable, it was figured that this place was sure to have it. Kerya finally also managed to find something for herself. There was quite a mix between spiffy and casual, one wondered if the group was going to get eyed anyway.
Of course though, any moment of amusement was cut off by the bat's rather stern insistence to leave. "Geez, don't twist your head off waiting for us..." Aisha growled and picked up her pack and cape, with her weapons hidden underneath, ready to follow the others out. The panthress never did like to be ordered around, but if it got them to a safe place to figure out what would happen next, it was tolerable.
But she did snort when he pretty much ran into Keaton. "We're never going to leave, are we?" she wondered aloud.
Aiding Keaton in getting to her feet, and then stepping close and brushing her off in a careful and concerned manner, incidentally in a way that allowed Deirdre a good view, Stygian didn't give off any hint that he was trying to make the gryphon jealous or indignant that someone showed the succubus that sort of care and familiarity. Nor that by this gesture, he hoped to tack up a point or two with the jackal herself. Instead, he just looked over his shoulder at Aisha, with an expressionless gaze.
'We'll move. Before that though, is there anything that you would need in particular, each and everyone of you?', he asked. Taking his hands off Keaton's shoulders, he turned to the others. 'Personally, I need little. But the regular kit is always good to have. Other than that, I don't know precisely where we should go. I have a... safehouse nearby where we could get some rest, and supplies. And perhaps transport.'
...Keaton:
In her disoriented state, Keaton didn't notice Deirdre's chortling, and remained in her upended position, clearly dumbstruck (determined by the hilariously discombobulated expression slapped on her features) until the moment Stygian proffered his hand. Blinking owlishly at the blurry, white appendage hovering in her vision, Keaton shakily extended her own hand and grasped Stygian's, allowing herself to be hefted to her feet. Keaton swayed and pivoted dangerously on her ankles, only for Stygian's strong hands on her shoulders to steady and anchor herself in place. Looking slightly dizzy, Keaton glanced up at the bat, her ears perking.
Eventually, the bat relinquished her shoulders around the same time she regained some orientation. Keaton rubbed her head, grateful for the restoration of her proper balance, and glanced back up at Stygian. Out of the backdrop of Keaton's peripheral vision, Deirdre eyed the bat apprehensively for a moment, all mirth evaporated from her features, and then, after a sigh of resignation, stepped to the side.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
If Kerya had blinked at the wrong instant, she might have missed it. She'd heard and recognised Mel's footsteps behind her, then the sound altered oddly in mid-step. At the same moment, the little stoat felt a very faint surge of an odd kind of magic: if she'd been any further away, she might not have noticed even that. By the time she'd turned her head to look, Mel the snow leopard was gone. In her place was a tall, elegant-looking black birdlike creature, although completely different from Dierdre. She wore what looked like mage robes of an unfamiliar design. "This will take a little getting used to," she murmured quietly to herself.
Sebastian caught her attention with his statement as he helped Keaton back to her feet and dusted her down. "A small pack of some kind would be useful," she said musingly, holding up her now very full shopping bag. "Normal packs do not fit me very well, and this will not bear much more." Kerya shrugged, showing her unusual body shape's almost complete lack of shoulders.
Cocking an eyebrow, Stygian regarded Kerya for a moment, and then smirked lightly. 'Maybe you shouldn't have bought more than you can carry then', he said, a bit pointedly, but humorously. 'If you get too tired with those little legs though, I'll let you ride on my shoulders. If you ask nicely.'
Mel shook her head in the negative when Ignatz asked if anyone had any special shopping needs. "I am tremendously over packed, as always. Anything I am not already carrying would be so oddball that it would be impossible for me to guess that it would be needed." She cradled the gem tipped staff she was now carrying in the crease of her elbow and tucked her hands into the full sleeves of her outer robe as she waited for the stragglers. "Unless you have some specific defenses we should be erecting."
No sooner had he just spoken, Gareeku heard Ignatz speak of the fact that they most likely weren't coming back for at least a while, and so leaving possessions, including clothing, at the store was not a very good idea. Nodding his head in understanding, the wolf knew that the bat was right, and so draped his normal outfit over one arm, while using the black belt worn on his normal outfit to fasten his sword to his back.
"Thank you, it is very much appreciated." Gareeku commented to Ignatz as the bat offered to pay for everyone's items.
Turning to start towards the front door of the shop, the wolf then noticed Aisha emerge in her new outfit, nodding his head in approval, as not only was it good for blending in with the crowd, but it was also pretty stylish, too.
Standing behind the others, Gareeku exited the shop, emerging back out onto the street. Pretty soon he would have to find some sort of backpack to keep his possessions in. Normally he was used to having the bare minimum, save for his sword, outfit and currency, but now he had a whole set of clothes to worry about, and keeping them draped over his shoulder was not wise in the long run.
Choosing not to comment on Ignatz's and Keaton's collision, Gareeku pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket and put them on, looking round at the crowded street while the others made sure they had everything they needed.
"I'd be betting on fire, personally." The red-clad wolf said, walking up behind the swan dressed in mages robes and touching the brim of his hat. Although he couldn't have seen the white leopard change into the sable-colored avian, he spoke to the swan with familiarity.
"This is still Mel, yes?" he said, halfway grinned. He tapped his nose. "The smell."
'No, nothing specific, except the usual. Just focus on your own talents, and it will be each our job to put them to use where it counts...' the bat said, a bit distraughtly, adjusting his own glasses. 'Let's move on, shall we?' Slipping a package of cigarettes out, and thumbing one out, taking it between his teeth, the bat flicked out Keaton's lighter again, and lit up, strolling away and taking the lead before anyone else could say anything more.
Their route went on out to a two-level promenade where stores lay back-to-back with offices and workshops, buildings stacked on each other and ancient walls like a giant, haphazard beehive. Walking on in that determined manner, Stygian swiveled his head back and forth, glancing between the shops.
'We'll need transportation, supplies... weapons...' he said, with a voice that still mourned the loss of his motorcycle. 'And something to take notes and keep our things in. Backpacks or bags.' Reaching into his coat and thumbing through his pocketbook, he took out some slightly rumpled bills, turning to Cogidubnus and proffering them to the wolf. 'You do that, while I go to a bookstore. And then we find something to drink and eat. Hey, does anyone have any cell phones?' He wasn't sure about coverage further out in the country, but around Jann's Cliff the reception was excellent.
Mel smiled and nodded at Cog, "Depending on your point of view this is as much or as little Mel as previously. Your new look is particularly dapper." As they traveled out of the more affluent tourist district into more and more squalid areas her robes became almost imperceptibly but progressively less prosperous looking. She didn't respond when he asked about cell phones. Since he had called her on hers less than 48 hours before he knew the answer. She waited politely for the others to respond and for the various tasks to be divvied up.
"...bags?"
The wolf took the crumpled notes gingerly, looking at them distantly for a moment, one eyebrow raised, before putting them in an inside pocket of his jacket. He tiled his head just slightly at the bat before nodding, and looking around lamely.
"I'll just...go find some...bags then, shall I?"
Although certainly not the wolf's forte, he was certain that he was up to the task. Thanking Mel for her compliment, he began walking back towards the merchant arena they'd just left, getting lost in the crowd for just a moment before finding a suitable place.
The doorbell dinged as Cogidubnus entered a building labeled "Surplus Army Supply and Depot and Used Car Sales".
Safe to say, Jann's cliff seemed most the most impressive when they first got off the train. But as they wandered deeper into the city, past more shops and buildings that were the trademark of any large town--crowded as its people--it was easy to get used to things and instead keep eyes focused on the road ahead of them. Needless, to say, perhaps they were getting into one of the worse districts.
Aisha, looking at the world through the shadow of her sunglasses, simply kept away from the unpleasant cigarette smell the bat had around him, yet she could still keep up and listen...and sighed when it was mentioned that yet more things were needed.
She thought for a moment and looked at what she was carrying. The cape was in the crook of an arm, with her sword hidden beneath it. The boomerang she had tied to her belt when they left, so it looked deceptively more like a silver decoration with her outfit than a weapon. The small pack she usually had with her only for food, water, and medicine was also stuffed with her extra clothes, and was slung over the other shoulder. Transportation? She'd have rather walked. But it wasn't often that she was on the run, either.
The panthress smirked when Cogidubnus was supposedly given the money to take care of the bags. Maybe a slightly bigger one wouldn't have been bad. But otherwise...
"I don't need more weapons, or better ones...and I actually doubt that the adventurers here need them. The non-adventurers, maybe, if you think it's best for their own defense," she informed. The blade at her hip seemed to glitter at her words.
She added, beneath her breath and as an afterthought, "and I'd rather not hold a gun, anyway."
Kerya's ears and tail flicked back and forth as she followed Sebastian through the streets of Jann's Cliff: she wasn't sure whether or not to be annoyed at the bat's sharp-tongued remarks. She was distracted, though, mulling over the comments between Mel and Cogidubnus. Her nose might not be as good as a wolf's, but... she sniffed the air surreptitiously as she walked along. I have the scent now, she thought after a little while. I was too busy to notice — last night, her scent was not quite right for vulpine or feline... what in the Lady's name are you, Mel?
Just then, the bat said something that made Kerya perk her ears up. "If you wish to amuse yourself in a cell, Sebastian, I do not think I shall enquire into the particulars," she said with a small quirky grin.
Idly, Stygian's hand went to his temple, and a little bitter smile lit up on his face. Hopelessly, he chuckled, and then turned to eye Kerya for a bit.
'And here I was thinking you
just the type for fuzzy handcuffs and chains', he said, giving the little mustelid a close-up view of his teeth in a most predatory grin. 'But then again, now that I think about it you might just be more fit for padded walls...' He put on a more serious face, and straightened. 'Guess I'll just have to ask Keaton then instead. Keats!' He snapped around to the jackal, and walked up next to her. 'You're with me. Bookstore up front.' Slapping her on the back a bit, he tramped past in the direction of a two-story building parked under a bridge ahead of them.
'Stay with the others, Mel!' the bat called back to the ones left behind, over his shoulder. 'I know I can call you at least.'
- -
The shop that Cogidubnus entered had that pressing and utilitarian feeling that is so often common in gun or hunting or fishing equipment stores, and that only an enthusiast or a really manly man derives a comfortable and homely feeling from being inside. There were shelves stacked with equipment, rifles hung from locks on the wall behind the counter, an inflatable raft hanging from the roof in one place, armored vests hanging from a rack that held boxes of flares and ammunition, pocket knives standing on display on a desk, a wall full of rubberware, hoses, paint, polish and solvents, and gasoline canisters standing under it. There was even what looked like a flamethrower, labeled 'Liberal Barbecue Assistant', standing under a rack. Toward the back of the shop, the wolf could hear the unmistakeable sound of a circular cutter, and looking into the back he saw that one corner of the store had been 'chopped off' in a way to give room to a short stairway that led down into a garage or workshop of some kind.
'Can I help you?' a somewhat monotonous, deep voice intoned from his side, and as Cog turned he saw, under a tire and pieces of a vacuum cleaner, a somewhat burly walrus dressed in a slightly dirty white shirt and a beret, big blond-brownish mustaches down the sides of his face.
The red-robed wolf paused and looked down at the walrus for a moment, taking in the sights and smells of the rather utilitarian facility before seeming to tilt his head, and gave a slight grin. He refrained from bowing to the man, recognizing someone who had things to do and little time for eccentricities - even polite ones. The wolf simply nodded.
"That depends. I'm just looking for...ehm. Bags. But." he paused, giving the man an appraising look. "Come to think of it, we need wheels, too. Need something fast, that can take a beating. Cheap is always good." he brushed a bang of hair out of his eyes. "But other than that, canvas bags. Six, I suppose."
...Keaton:
At being slapped on the back, Keaton yelped loudly and staggered slightly, caught off-guard by the overly boisterous gesture. She swayed momentarily on the heels of her oversized, exaggerated combat boots until she regained her balance, planting both feet firmly on the dirt and, rubbing her shoulder, staring at Stygian over her shoulder. Before she could remark on the back-slapping, Stygian was trudging ahead, approaching the nearby bookstore. Running her hand through her hair, Keaton sighed and followed suit, jogging at a brisk pace so she could catch up with the bat.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Nodding quickly, the walrus walked over to the counter, then set down his load and brushed his hands against his pants, walking off toward the opened end of the store and the garage.
'Canvas bags are on the shelf over there', he said, directing the wolf with his hand. 'We've got some other from military stock in the back if those won't do.' Getting on a pair of gloves, and reaching for a tube of something, he put his hands to his mouth and called down into the workshop, where sparks were flying wildly: 'HEY! AIDAM!' The sparks kept flying, and the sound of that saw kept hurting Cog's ears. 'AIDAM!'
It was only when the walrus at last grabbed a huge wrench and banged it against a metal cabinet that the noise stopped, and some clanking sounds later, a visored head peered out from behind a mutilated car. Flipping the visor up, some kind of red-furred monkey with thick glasses looked up at them.
'Yeah?' the simian replied.
'Guy here says he needs some kind of ride. Are those bikes still...?'
'They're in pieces. Saved the engines off a couple...'
'What about the Doom Beetle?'
'Dude, we're not selling the Doom Beetle! I have that thing spotted out for my collection!'
'Well, all else we have is the Big...'
- -
Pushing the door open, Stygian entered the front of the store, pushing it a bit so that it was left open for Keaton, and immediately noticed that the front of the store was deceptively small, seeing as how it seemed to open up into a much more spacious room in the back. Also, if this was indeed a bookstore, then the term was used a bit liberally. Of course they had pens, writing tools, calendars and all those other things that traditionally go in bookstores, but besides a massive supply of magic books they also seemed to have a good portion of magical tools, ingredients and how-to-manuals...
Walking inside, the bat gave the nervous receptionist, a skittish lizard of some kind, a quick look, and then smoothly slid in between the shelves and stacks.
As Cog watched the two men converse, he began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He'd anticipated something...well, he's figured the place for a chop shop, but he was hoping the car would have been at least made of entirely one thing. The Doom Beetle sounded like some terrifying amalgamation of go-kart and tank. The wolf leaned against the counter, his face a carefully masked, yet all-to-obvious grimace, and he waited for the two to finish their conversation - until something else occurred to him.
"Look, whatever it's got to be has to be able to go off-road." he said suddenly, his eyes masked behind his glasses. "And something that won't fall apart after twenty miles because half the chassis is spot-weld and the other half is screwed on." he paused, considering the two, before going on. "I...look, what the hell is a Doom Beetle?"
The wolf ran a hand through his hair, setting his wide-brimmed hat on the counter.
Richard staggered out of a changing room, disoriented. He remembered a rush of clothing, a zealous young woman, and then being passed into the hands of bored shop assistants who continued Mel's insidious plot after she'd lost interest.
The result was the most menacing he'd ever looked appropriately caffeinated. A black and pinstriped suit made him look even thinner than usual, an almost blatantly corpselike physique clad in a black tie, a yellow shirt, french cuffs, and a glower that should by all rights have set the shop on fire. Yes, he looked sharp and yes, he was going to keep it, but it was the principle of the thing!
Transferring his previous clothes to another bag and his tomahawks to a pocket in the jacket that only MOSTLY concealed them.
Then again, if I'm gonna complete the look...
Richard wandered in the direction of that instrument salesman he saw earlier. He was certain he could catch up with the others later...
Kerya looked around and counted muzzles. "We seem to have mislaid someone," she said with a flick of her tail that made her cloak swirl. "I have not seen Richard since we were in the tailor's shop — did anyone tell him where we were going?"
...Keaton:
Taking advantage of the slightly ajar door, Keaton weaved expertly inside of the bookstore, using an offhanded nudge of her heel to shut the door behind her. A perfunctory rattle sonorously shook the bell hanging above the door for a few seconds, before its quaking ceased and the jingling petered away. Now that she was thoroughly caught up with Stygian, Keaton ambled behind the bat, waving to the receptionist before she allowed her attention to drift aimlessly about the large selection of books. She didn't suppose that they had many books illustrating dark magic, but she kept her eye out for any familiar authors or conspicuous titles as she walked alongside the rows of novels on magic.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stygian slip away, and curiously tilted her ears.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Watching the others walk off to get various, Gareeku adjusted his shades slightly and turned to the rest who were also left standing around waiting.
"Is there any else we would need in terms of supplies?" the wolf asked. "If there is, it would be wise to get them now. Personally I just need a bag to put my clothes in, which the others are already getting anyway."
Aisha had found a wall to lean on as she watched the others walking around the various shops. While she did so, the panthress did a quick headcount...the only one that seemed to actually be missing was Richard, who was just then pointed out by the diminutive musteline.
"Good question," she blinked and looked around...like if there were an undead in the crowd somewhere, certainly there'd be enough activity to pinpoint him. "Well, I don't know the guy well, chica, but he seems to like being the one straying from the herd." She smirked. "I'm sure we'll find him again. I don't even know where we're going myself."
Frankly I'm getting tired of surprises, Aisha added silently. She glanced up when Gareeku addressed the rest of them on gathering supplies if they needed, which was a good idea, she agreed. She thought a moment...the huntress only really counted on the essentials, while the others were thinking of conveniences...with that in mind, she started on suggestions. "How's everyone on food and water? If we're on the run, it's hard to tell how long we'll have the luxury of restaurants. And..." Duh, what would Rynkura suggest first...? "Medical supplies. I'm good with those, but one cannot rely on healers alone."
As a second thought, Aisha spared a glance to Mel. "With appreciation to the present ones, of course."
Mel looked around at Kerya's comment. Richard wasn't anywhere to be seen. The dragon had excellent distance vision, a necessity when one picked out their prey when flying overhead, but it gave her no benefit in the twisting alleyways of this side of town. When Aisha mentioned food and medical supplies she made a decision. The undead would have to find his own way back. Mel pointed a bit down the street to some stalls with fresh food displayed. "We can start our hunt there."
For a second, both the walrus and the monkey looked at Cog through their respective glasses, as if he were somehow asking them something which he should already have known the answer to. The next moment, they were both sneers, even the monkey too, despite his earlier protests.
Stepping past Cog, the walrus motioned for him to follow him. 'It's right here in the back. Come on...' he said, still smirking like crazy. Walking deeper into the workshop, he passed by an assortment of all manner of gadgets and contraptions, some covered for storage, some with mysterious purposes, and others quite blatantly built merely out of sheer insanity. It wasn't the largest workspace in the world though, Jann's Cliff's overall architectural decisions through the ages meaning that most buildings were either cramped or just oddly built, and so Cog soon found himself standing in front of a large, tarp-covered thing about the size of a trailer, though much lower. The tire that poked out where the tarp didn't quite cover it was even larger than for a trailer though.
'Right...' the walrus said, and then kicked away the pair of bricks holding the ends of the cover down, and then began pulling it back.
The question soon turned from whether if the thing would hold up for twenty miles, to whether if those twenty miles of road would be brutally mauled.
Cog wasn't aware of how accurate his earlier guess had been, before the monster buggy was unveiled. There was no way else to describe the hard-framed, rollcaged, dirty black and orange-painted three-ton monster in front of him. A couple of mountings had been taken off at the back, so that a low flatbed and a spoiler could be put on instead of whatever had apparently sat there before, and evidently taken up a great deal of space, enough that the frame had been shaped around it and that the engine was mounted and moved forward a good bit. The wheels were humongous and rough-tracked, and judging from the look of the chassis and suspension, or what the wolf could tell of it through the bodywork of metal plates, it was heavy and all-wheel-drive.
'Yeah, we used this one back in Dalvis this spring. Don't take Aidam's word for it; we
are selling the thing. It's going to cost you though, if you want it.'
- -
Picking up a notepad immediately, Stygian turned to browsing the shelves for a while. There were more new books in the store than those he were already familiar with, which was a relief. He was quite used in walking into some 'antique' shop and finding that nearly everything was something he'd seen or used one time or another long ago.
Keaton, however, found only mildly interesting examples of literature until she found herself at the edge of the psychology section, and staring at the black and white picture of the face of some grumpy bear with a cigar and round spectacles.
- -
The instrument shop seemed the most pleasant and typical sort of store that Jann's Cliff had to offer; the one with a nice, half-open airy interior and warm colors about, and wares displayed right up front. Guitars laying angled for viewing behind the glass front, which it took a closer look to see was reinforced and double-layered with a space for metal bars between the glasses, called out to the artist in him with their glossy shine and neat and perfect assembly. Unfortunately for him, he only managed to steal a look, before some cloaked figure bumped into him, a lot harder and more unexpectedly than he could have anticipated at that range. His undead numbness made it so that he failed to catch the feeling of a fist to his gut. But, as he toppled back into some passerby and spilled the bag of clothes onto the street, he thought he caught a glimpse of something red, before the offender slipped back into the crowd.
- -
A thump and then the sound of paper rustling and someone yelping suddenly alerted both Kerya and Mel to something going on, perhaps sixty yards further up the street. A man in a black suit was just getting up off the ground from having fallen, it seemed. It took a moment before they recognized the gangly figure and the yellow shirt.
Curiously, Kerya barely noticed, and didn't give it a moment's attention, when someone just casually walked by and very carefully placed Richard's dropped fedora on her head.
...Keaton:Coming face-to-face with the monochromatic bear emblazoned on the book's cover came as an unpleasant surprise to Keaton. In the sea of absolute uninteresting monotony, locking her eyes with the book's soulless stare was rather... well, shocking and potentially traumatic in her concentrated state. Yelping a little, Keaton stumbled back, her ears flicking upright, using her arms to shield herself as though expecting for the book to become animate and snap at her like a paperback beartrap. Fortunately for her, within a few seconds, she realized she was making an ass out of herself and lowered her arms, peering in bewilderment as she realized the book wasn't attacking her. Instead, Keaton found herself locked with the bear's stare again, reminding her of the picture's petrified inanimateness.
Keaton stared up at the sign hanging over the section she had meandered into. In big, bold letters, the sign read
Psychology. Keaton scowled a little, glaring at the bear on the book resolutely, mouthing something which an expert lip-reader could decipher as
You're an asshole. However, in spite of her slightly embarrassed state, Keaton snatched the book off of the shelf and started thumbing through its pages, momentarily fascinated with its contents. Psychology wasn't her forte - too much of that stuff translated to absolute gibberish for her - but she needed
something to read.
---
...Deirdre:Ambling in the back of the group, Deirdre loitered aimlessly, her cataract-clad gaze shifting nervously. After her schadenfreude-induced amusement from Keaton's earlier collision had faded, Deirdre was back to her uncharacteristically anxious state, still feeling very out-of-place in the crowded environments and starting to feel very self-conscious about a burgeoning headache stemming at the back of her head. Fingering the slight indentation in the back of her skull from underneath her hair, Deirdre almost offhandedly overheard Gareeku query about a bag he could use to store his clothing.
Deirdre glanced down at the voluminous shopping bag she held in her own hands. Resting at the bottom, folded very neatly among a nest of colorful wrapping paper, was a smart-looking black suit which appeared much more masculine than the one Mel had provided. Not that she didn't appreciate Mel's contribution to her earlier dilemma - she just needed something which looked more masculine. Earlier, Deirdre had decided that since Stygian offered to pay for everything, it would be inconsequential if she were to purchase something as well. Besides, the suit was just... it was nice. Beneath the suit was a sports bra to keep her chest reasonably flat as well, since Deirdre didn't feel comfortable with her cleavage so... well,
there. The store didn't have any cosmetics to replace her fake facial hair, but Deirdre was relatively satisfied. She couldn't wait to change clothes.
Holding the bag open slightly, Deirdre gestured slightly to Gareeku. "Uh, excuse me?" she asked. "You can put your clothes in here, if you want."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
At the Walrus and the Monkey's respective looks, the wolf felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back - he put his hat back on quickly, moving a few bangs of hair away from his glasses. "Sorry. Look, I'm from the West."
They didn't say any more, however, the Walrus simply guiding the wolf to the back of their machine shop and towards a massive, tarped-over object. Cog paused as he looked at it, wondering what might be contained beneath the rough somewhat-waterproofed fabric, before with nary a flourish the walrus revealed the Doom Beetle.
It was a car of dreams and nightmares. You could probably have driven the thing through the walls of the shop and then over a tank and still managed to keep going, crushing the very road beneath your tires. It was a mobile mountain, a living, breathing demon of oil and steel and unleaded gasoline. Although caked with mud and debris, as Cog looked at it, it shone.
The wolf inclined his head. His shades flashed, and his teeth gleamed in a lopsided grin.
"How much?"
With a string of explatives that should by all rights have blistered the remains of Richard's lips from his face, the undead was bowled from his feet onto the sidewalk. He glared up, ready to say some profoundly unkind things about his assailant's parentage, sexual habits, employment, culture and possibly leisure activities and employment. All he ended up really seeing was a flash of red and a rapidly vanishing cloak.
Unfortunately for them, good police officers and troublesome people were like societies terriers. They chased things. Richard stuffed the clothes back into the bag and took off with a snarl. Someone's day was really about to SUCK.
Kerya blinked and stared for a moment at the tall thin figure scrambling to his feet a short distance along the road. The clothes weren't familar, but the face — or rather the remains of it — was, and so was the voice she could just hear above the noise of the traffic. The little stoat turned and looked up at Mel with a grin.
"That certainly sounds like Richard... what...?" She'd moved her head quickly enough to dislodge something perched on the hood of her cloak, so it slipped forward over her eyes. She reached up and plucked it off. It was a hat, and it had Richard's unmistakeable scent on it: chemicals, and things she didn't like to guess. She remembered a moment ago someone had walked past, almost close enough to bump into her...
"Mel," she said urgently as she turned to face the other way along the street. "Do not let me fall over if I become too closely engaged in this." Sheer annoyance drove out of Kerya's mind whether she'd tried this spell at any time in the last week to make sure it still worked properly. She took hold of the black swan's arm, braced herself firmly, and...
Imperceptibly, a thread of Kerya's awareness lashed out along the street, just over the heads of even the tallest in the crowd. She was looking for someone walking away, wearing... what was it... something red?
Mel noticed Richard immediately when he popped up off of the pavement. He looked quite angry and was storming back in the direction of the rest of the group. Now if she could just keep the group somewhat in the same area she'd be set. Just then Kerya grabbed hold of her elbow and asked to be propped upright. Mel grabbed Kerya's arm and did as requested, although she did wonder why Kerya had Richard's hat.
Nodding his head in agreement when Aisha spoke of getting medical supplies, Gareeku then looked on as Richard appeared in the street. He wasn't quite sure what all the commotion was about, but the wolf's attention was then brought to Deidre, who had approached him and said that he could could put his clothes in her bag if he wanted to.
"Oh, uh, thanks." Gareeku said, caught slightly offguard at the gryphon's sudden offer, before putting his clothes in the bag. "I can carry it if you want. I don't mind. Thank you again, anyway."
If Kerya had been looking for something specific, then she was helplessly lost. Disorientation striking her, she found that trying to trace even some shade of red close to what she thought she had seen ended up quite much like looking for a specific straw of hay in a haystack. The place was just too vast and colorful, with too many people walking past, for anything usable to turn up.
- -
A couple of minutes of reading later, and Keaton had already bored herself with the book, and deduced that whoever the author was he had some quite interesting ideas about how to treat people close to oneself, particularly one's mother. She was fortunately interrupted by a tap on her shoulder.
'Let's go', Stygian said, having found himself one book of interest, a history review by the look of it, and all else he might need, including a new pen, a drawing book, chalk and coal crayons and the original notebook. Passing behind Keaton silently, he walked over to the counter and paid in cash.
While trying to tolerate the crowds passing their small, waiting group by, Aisha listened to the others as they also voiced their opinions...or at least tried to. Before long, another disturbance seemed to suddenly be thrown their way.
Said disturbance turned out to be a very familiar undead. As fate seemed to have it, no sooner was he mentioned, than Richard appeared among them with his hat tossed unceremoniously onto Kerya. Nobody had seemed to get a good look at the person or thing behind the anomaly, for it apparently was good at disappearing back into crowds.
The panthress shook her head as she got a look at his expression through her sunglasses. Apparently very pissed. At that point in time however, Aisha wouldn't have blamed anyone for feeling so. But there was bigger business at hand, and at least a bit of a consensus on heading for supplies. After she saw Gareeku nod his approval, she glanced over to where Mel had pointed, towards a few food stalls just a few yards down the street.
"Alright then..." she said and kicked herself off the wall. "You all can come with me or stay, chicos y chicas, I won't get lost, don't worry. I'm stocking up on some sandwiches and things that won't easily be crushed...then I think I remember where there's a pharmacy along the way for the medical supplies too. Count your coins, I advise everyone who can in fact bleed to get some just in case."
As she counted the coins she had left for that endeavor, perhaps only just enough, Aisha glanced at Mel helping Kerya and endeavoring to help Richard before passing them by and heading for the stalls to barter. Eh, that was weird, but, I'm only going a small ways off.
Kerya's disjointed sense of awareness drifted over the crowd, looking for anything that resembled what she'd seen... or what she thoght she'd seen. There! No, there — wait, what about that? This is the right colour, but... no, that's it! Or...
It was too much. The little stoat withdrew her spell, snapping back along the imperceptible trail that led to her body, standing in the street beside Mel. She blinked and shook her head, once more seeing with only her physical eyes. "Well, that was an abject failure," she muttered under her breath.
She turned towards Mel and held up the hat. "Something odd is afoot," she murmured quietly, "someone here knows about us, I think. Did you see who put this on my head? It must be Richard's, it has his scent. Could it be that our pursuers from Haszal are here already, and are playing games with us? Who else would know Richard is connected to us?"
In answer to Kerya's questions Mel shrugged, "I am afraid I was looking at the fruit stand and not at you. It is certainly possible that our pursuers are here. It was a large train and we were not the last on, even if nearly so. That is why we need to move on quickly and not waste time chasing down wandering party members." She reached out and grabbed Richard's arm as he stormed past. "Here is someone who might be able to explain the hat mystery for you."
The walrus' face showed a little surprise, and almost consternation for a moment, and he put up his hand behind his head to scratch the back of his neck. Looking at the monstrous vehicle, he nodded.
'Well, we weren't planning to let it go for less than ninety grand, but we haven't had time to add the finish...' he said, a bit unsure. The bell hung on the door to the shop rang, and he called back to the monkey who was starting up the saw again. 'GET THE DAMN DOOR, AIDAM! Anyway, I think that eighty-seven would be reasonable, considering the work.'
- -
Out in the street, it was no hard task to spot the others. At least not for Stygian, who not only had his augmented hearing but a lot of experience in tracing people through crowds to go on. Turning swiftly and decisively, he began strolling back up the street in the direction of the group, who were all gathering around Richard, it seemed. Odd, that.
The grin on Cogidubnus's muzzle faded, but not by much. He nodded absently at the Walrus's statement, managing not to sputter and choke at the price tag, and instead began to walk around the vehicle slowly, making notes as to it's appearance, kicking the tires, and muttering to himself slightly. He rubbed his chin, and adjusted his hat, and looked at the Walrus surreptitiously from the corner of his eye.
"I'll give you forty grand." he said, not batting an eye. "Because, for one, while it's impressive, who the hell else is going to buy this from you?"
He turned to look at the walrus. "You can't haul anything with it. It's not a luxury vehicle, doesn't really have enough cargo capacity for any sort of prolonged deep wilderness exploration. You might get a motorhead to buy it, but..." he thunked the side. "No-one but someone with a hard-on for overboard suspension and tires would buy something like this. And if you really think you can sell it to the guy in the back for more, that's what I'd do. But while it's a lot of machine, the applications are...limited. Mudding, a limited amount of off-road driving, maybe rescue operations. But there are vehicles for a lot less than a hundred grand that can do that sort of thing just as well."
"And what, with the price of gas..." the wolf paused, looking back at the vehicle. "Forty grand."
The walrus blinked, stared, and then Cog was faced with a guffaw that grew to a fairly lengthy and humiliating laugh. Had he not been who he was, he might have blushed at the embarrassment.
'Yeah, right. You take a look at the engine and the effort we put into the construction, and then you give me a real answer', he said, folding his arms and looking at Cog seriously. 'You could drive that thing through a river and out, and you'd just have to air dry.' He adjusted his stance a bit, and his beret. 'It
can carry enough cargo. I'll throw in cans and straps. Power steering too. The point though is that it gets what you want where you want to go,
fast. And with a lot in tow.'
- -
'Anyone who watched us at the bar or the inn', was the almost immediate answer, and then Kerya felt her back cool just a little as the bat behind her blocked the sunlight, looming. Curiously, his voice had sounded as if it were just as close the whole time. Then again, maybe that was just him stepping around her, or the way he moved to avoid detection. It was hard to tell. He smiled down at her a bit, oddly, even after getting to know they were probably being followed. Perhaps he had counted on it?
'So long as no one has a knife in their back though, and we're together and can get out of here within the next hour, we're somewhat fine. Do we have the bags yet?' he said, putting a hand on Kerya's shoulder. 'No? Then let's get the supplies and catch up with Cog.'
"I don't need to take a look at the engine, or the construction. I trust that your construction is, indeed, surperb." Cog said smoothly, suddenly wishing for a cigarette even though he didn't smoke. "However, I'll pay close to a hundred thousand for a Rolls Royce. Not this." he again gestured the machine and its ragged appearance, looking as though it had won a few monster truck rallies a few nights before.
His expression didn't change, although the wolf tilted his head slightly. "While I'm sure it was very expensive to make, the fact remains it's the most unpractical vehicle I've ever seen, on this side of the ocean or t'other. And if you had a buyer lined up, you wouldn't be showing this to me." his eyes narrowed behind his lenses. "The rear end is too high for a hitch. You can't tow anything with it. And I said it wouldn't be suitable for extended trips. As far as prospective customers, that rules out the oil companies and exploratory teams, who certainly aren't going to pay a hundred thousand for this anyway, when they can get less machine to do the same work for cheaper. Anyone besides large business isn't going to have the money, and it's not pretty enough for rich playboys."
He adjusted his hat, straightening. "But, nonwithstanding, I like you. Not enough to pay you more. But I do like you, and because of that, and the fact that you're going to 'throw in' power steering, which is a low blow I might add, you'd need a ogre to turn those wheels manually, and the straps and cans, I'd be willing to consider fifty thousand."
Scoffing lightly, the walrus looked away from Cog for a short few moments, thumbing his not unimpressive biceps, then his even less unimpressive moustache, and then his glasses. He seemed less amused with his customer now, and edging onto frustrated and irritated. Never a good sign.
'Look', he said, making what sounded like a final point. 'The Plenty & Golf engine costs thirty-five grand, and that's without the supercharger. The gearbox is twenty, and the rest of the stuff sort of neatly fills in the rest. Squeeze all you want, but I can't give you a price better than eighty, with the worth of the stuff. Not when it hasn't been on the road for so much as five hundred miles yet.'
Kerya twitched slightly, and her fur bristled as Sebastian spoke. She'd had no idea there was anyone right behind her. It was a good thing she'd recognised his voice immediately: after everything that had happened since last night, her nerves were still a little on edge. Not quite to the point where she'd reflexively attack if she thought she was threatened, but still... Anyway, she'd seen the bat was quite capable of defending himself against magic. A simple flare spell tossed over her shoulder, her usual first response to an attack from behind, would probably be no bother for him to counter.
"That is somewhat less than reassuring, Sebastian," she murmured. "Ah well, we shall deal with that if it becomes a problem." She resisted an urge to feel her back to make sure no-one had put a knife in it without her noticing.
The wolf shook his head at the walrus's words, taking note of both the fat man's expression and posture, and the relatively clipped tone of his words. He leaned against the side of the Beetle, taking off his shades and hat. He held them both in one hand while reaching inside his red coat with his left, producing a small white cloth. He proceeded to wipe the shades clean, carefully not looking at the proprietor as he considered his words.
Cogidubnus was feeling irritated and annoyed as well, although he was far too careful to show it. Instead, he simply stayed quiet, the expression on his face thoughtful. The walrus wouldn't consider a lower price, even though the vehicle was, for all reasonable intents and purposes, absurdly useless for such a price tag. Asking for a smaller amount less than he was offering at this point would seem petulant.
What really bothered Cog, though, was despite the proprietor's claims of its indestructibility and toughness, he just knew that with the kind of people chasing him, it was going to get blown up before the end of the day.
"Eighty thousand dollars..." Cog said, his voice neutral. He considered offering the Walrus something to sweeten his side of the deal - a charm, perhaps, or another item, but he doubted the man would find them as valuable as the wolf did. Most of them had sentimental value, anyway.
Cog put his hat back on his head, and his shades followed shortly. He pushed himself up, again looking the Walrus in the eye.
"I'm not going to tell you how to run your business. Suffice it to say, I don't know why you even built something like this, or who you thought you'd sell it to. Hell, perhaps you knew I'd be needing something like this in advance - in which case, it'd be right nice of you." he said, his words genial. "But...."
The wolf sighed. Some people would consider him rich, although the wolf knew better - he might have a lot of money, but, it had to last him a lot longer than most. Eighty thousand dollars wasn't pocket change, either - not to individuals, anyway. He could justify the expense, if the car would be useful as more than something than a eventual bullet shield, but even then...
"I apologize if my earlier comments were crass. You're obviously a busy man. Eighty thousand for the vehicle, the car, the straps, the cans, power steering, and the bags I was asking for earlier." he said, eyes hidden by shaded lenses looking at the corner of the room for a moment. "If that's not possible, I'm sorry to have wasted your time, and I'll be out of your hair."
...Keaton:Standing by Stygian was Keaton, looking exceptionally cheerful, or at least in comparison to her usual disposition. In the end, she hadn't bought anything from the bookstore they visited, given her limited budget. Besides, there was nothing interesting in the aisle she browsed. Wanting to be helpful, Keaton lifted her hand, using her palm to shade her eyes from the glaring sunrays, and scanned the crowds for the distinctively red-clad, shades-wearing, gray wolf.
---
...Deirdre:Deirdre grinned slightly. At least some people in this group were polite, aside from Mel. That wasn't a very fair generalization to make about the rest of her traveling companions, but she didn't exactly have a very good impression of the bat... or Keaton, who she couldn't stop referring to as a less recognizable name in her mind, for that matter. "It's alright," Deirdre reassured Gareeku. "I'm perfectly alright with carrying it... I mean, it's pretty light."
After a moment, Deirdre decided that continuing the conversation wouldn't hurt - well, at least introductions wouldn't. "So, what's your name? I'm Deirdre."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
The walrus watched Cogidubnus carefully, even as he went on to say that he would buy the car off him, something that seemed to surprise the man. He scratched his neck, then nodded slowly, and turned to walk over to one of the steel cupboards.
'We... um...' he began, sounding almost as if he were excusing himself. 'We built it to test a different engine than that one. It... sort of worked out...' He took out a few tools and papers. 'Eighty thousand. I don't know about overall insurance, but at least the engine comes with a three-year or 3000-mile warranty.' Walking back over to the wolf, he offered him a rough hand. 'You won't be able to drive it up here, so we'll move it down to the lower city for you. The place is called "Gresak's Custom Engines".'
The walrus had just ended his statement when something from behind Cog drew his attention, and looking over the wolf's shoulder, he addressed someone who clearly had just walked in.
'Yes, can I help you with anything?'
In the polished reflection of a sheet of aluminium, Cog saw a tall, coated, red-haired figure.
- -
'Alright then', Stygian continued, starting to walk. 'Some alcohol and a burner just in case, a first aid kit, meat, a utility rifle perhaps and ammunition, matches...' He murmured on, going over a list in his head, and starting to duck into the occasional shop, the others in tow. 'Medical supplies are on their way, and... How many here actually use firearms? None? Crazy people...'
The wolf froze. He sniffed once, pausing, and then his expression darkening.
And then he turned on his heel, his hand gliding to the hilt of his sword, smoothly and naturally, as though he was simply striking a dashing pose, and gave the red-haired woman a swashbuckling grin. He held his head at a jaunty angle, tilting the hat just right.
His feet slid subtly. His right hand hung loose, ready. The wolf was about to say something, and then paused, his grin faltering a little bit before he spoke.
"...hi."
He ignored the Walrus entirely. It was entirely possible that his conversation here was about to mean nothing at all - depending on what that spider was about to do...
Meanwhile, heedless of all the banter and tribulation that she was sure the group was getting themselves into, Aisha had already bought a few food items that would last for a while on a trip. The panthress had trouble figuring what any others would like; but one thing that was universal when it came to it, was to always have sandwiches. Thankfully, she had just enough money to gather some in different varieties of meat and cheese and things inbetween...mostly for herself, though she would have gladly given what she had to anyone more hungry.
After that, she glanced around the street, clutching her own small pack close and being careful to keep her tail ring out of the sight of any more thieves like the child she had encountered back in the last city...hard to do when her cloak was draped over her arm. That's when she spotted the ensign on the outside of a small building that signaled a pharmacy and apothecary. Aha...next case, she thought as she strolled past a few people, and narrowly missed bumping into another, to get to the door.
On the shelves inside were a variety of medicines and things to help...including some familiar antibiotic potions that she had needed to restock anyway.
Finally, Aisha approached the clerk with her selections and money. "Perdón, but I need a few first-aid kits...maybe three, if you wouldn't mind..." Then she paused and thought for a moment, regarding the group that she was with. Only one true healer, one or two that didn't bleed, a bunch of people who didn't seem like they had too much skill to boast, and a few very skilled ones who nonetheless got into fights more often than they stayed out...
"...Actually, make that eight," she concluded, rolling her eyes behind the sunglasses.
The spider waved a hand at Cog, and then looked over toward the counter, while the walrus' gaze shifted to and fro between the both of them. She seemed to be wanting something, because she looked back to Cog, then jerked her head in the direction of the counter while giving him a loaded, meaningful look.
'I'll just ready things then...' the walrus said, and walked over behind the massive vehicle, starting to dig through a cabinet. The spider turned, sighed, and then walked back through the shop.
- -
The merino behind the counter was quick to respond to Aisha's request, yet could not help give her a bit of a look when she noticed the panthress' comment and expression. Blinking, she nevertheless fetched the ordered items quickly, laying them up before Aisha.
'Would you like a bag for that?'
As Aisha caught the look from the clerk, she simply turned her gaze elsewhere. It was a moment when, she wondered, if the town really got that many adventurers going through it. Regardless, since they were being hunted, it would do good for her not to explain too much. When she asked for a bag for it, she nodded. "Yes, please."
As she paid for the medical supplies, one for each person who might need it, the panthress nodded her thanks and turned out to the door with all she needed to carry hanging off the crook of one arm. All she needed was to put everything else in a backpack or something similar and certainly she'd be all set. That and make sure everyone would get their kit. She'd be in charge of the potions.
Pushing the door open, she walked out and looked for a sign of where the others were.
The wolf wasn't quite sure what to make of the spider's actions, except that she either wanted him to finish buying the car, or was making sure that he wasn't trying to renege on paying. Cog's posture slowly relaxed, the wolf slowly turning with his feet towards the counter the Walrus was busying himself behind. He kept an eye on Sal until he couldn't see her anymore, and very carefully turned his attention back to the proprietor himself. He coughed, blurring for just a moment, and adjusted the silver chain around his neck.
He stood stock still, and with some hesitation, began to speak again. He leaned forward, as though imparting a great secret - one might imagine that, behind his shades, his eyes would be wide and darting, although other than his strange posture, the wolf's countenance revealed no secrets about his mood. He tiled his head just slightly.
"You take checks?"
Mel was following along with the rest of the group as Ignatz was listing out the items he thought they needed to find. "It is beginning to sound like a safari. Should we add tents and blankets to the list? Ropes, knives, marshmallows?"
"Tripwires and snare traps." Richard suggested, still pissed about his having been bowled over by whoever that had been. "We've been getting snuck up on by everyone, we need something to watch our backs for us." He rubbed his wrist where the handcuffs he'd been trapped by earlier had left a mark, "And grenades, or something. Anything easily concealed, useable in a hurry and makes for a big disorienting kaboom." He straightened out his tie, more comfortable in the suit now that it looked wrinkled and messy. People deserved a warning, after all. "Also, add alcohol to that list twice."
Kerya glanced from side to side to make sure no passers-by were close enough to overhear, then she looked up at Richard and cleared her throat quietly. "There may be no need to obtain physical traps," she murmured, holding up her free hand, cupped as if to hold something. A tiny spark of light bounced cheerfully along her clawtips, then she flipped her hand over to snatch it in mid-air. "I can set up magical traps, made to deal out whatever level of... ah, chastisement that may be required. Even if it is not sufficient to destroy the ones pursuing us, it should at least allow us a running start."
The comment about grenades passed by. Those could be used tactically, and the Undead had proven to be somewhat avoiding of violence. However, the next comment made the bat flinch and stop. He blinked behind his round glasses, and then looked down at Kerya with stern disapproval.
'Please tell me you are not thinking about setting electric traps or curses that make people burn indefinitely here in the city', he said. Leaning down a bit and looming over her, the sun conveniently hidden behind his head to turn him into a fearsome shadow. 'Because if you are, I'll use you as a dustcloth. Or maybe a claw polisher...' Slowly, he rolled his near-ivory fingers, impressive ebon claws stretching.
- -
The walrus looked hesitant for a moment, as he looked back over the car at Cog, eying him appraisingly for a moment, before turning back to his business.
'Sure. Just remember where you are...' he said. Cog got what he meant instantly; Jann's Cliff's policing Guard were notable for their swiftness and harshness in maintaining order. A city that survived on trade, even when placed at such a vital passage between lands and countries, could not afford to have too many thieves or swindlers, or its reputation would dwindle. And then commerce would as well. Not a few 'collector' agencies existed in the sprawling city as well...
"Of course." Cog said, this time reaching into a pocket instead of his jacket, and producing a thin, leatherbound book. A second foray produced a rounded, silver pen. He flipped the small book open and began scribbling, one eyebrow rising over the top of his shades.
"The simple fact is, I don't carry eighty grand in cash. I don't use credit either, so..."
He finished scribbling and tore off a scrap of paper from within the book, setting it on the counter quickly, and pushed it just slightly towards the storekeeper. It was a check, written on ivory-white paper with silver borders. Black ink in block letters at the top proclaimed it to be in the name of the Bank of the Imperial West, good for eighty thousand, signed Cogidubnus Mithlome.
"If for some reason it's refused, it shouldn't be too hard to find me in that thing, anyway."
Kerya's tail twitched under her heavy cloak at the bat's words. She turned and gazed back up at him calmly and impassively, but there was a hint of an annoyed gleam in her eye. She appeared to completely ignore his dramatic, intimidating stance.
"Do you truly think me one to play fast-and-loose, then, Sebastian?" The little stoat's tone of voice was formal and clipped, with only a slight quaver in it. "I do not play games with my safety, or that of my fellows, but I do not heedlessly endanger bystanders. Last night I could have unleashed my full remaining strength against Laertes after my first attack failed, but I had no desire to bring the building down about our ears. I side with Richard in this, from what he tells me these people have been following you, and hindering and harrying, at their leisure. This retreat was the only thing we could do, and it has brought us some respite, but they shall inevitably be treading upon our tail-tips again. When they do, I shall do whatever seems prudent to hinder them."
Kerya directed one last glare at the bat, then she hmmphed dismissively and turned back to Mel and Richard, muttering "... dustcloth?" under her breath in a scathing tone of voice.
If anything, the bat seemed taken aback by the little creature's retort. His frown deepening, but his anger seeming to peel off a few layers, he stood perfectly still, pondering whether if he should say something sharp. Not a few less vocal reactions came to mind as well. The foremost problem though seemed to be that the stoat had a skewed perspective of the situation. And he wondered whether if she did not happen to have a temper as well. Either way, her way of seemingly determining when the conversation was over all on her own, typical of women or egotists, offended him. And it seemed that it was time to establish some sort of dominance. If it was at the expense of some newcomer that the others could have felt more for, all the better.
'
Richard doesn't know these people', the bat said. His voice was low, but there was some sort of twist to it that seemed to bring it right to the stoat's ears, so sharp that it was like having his mouth right over her shoulder, fangs poised to strike. 'And neither do you.' He waited for her to look at him, his gaze sharp as if he were forcing her to through sheer will. 'But if you are so insistent on stopping them, then we should consider this little
shopping trip over, and get right out of here, whether we're ready or not.' He ended his statement by reciprocating her action of cutting things off, by turning on the spot and heading back, moving in the direction of where he had last seen Cogidubnus, not looking back.
- -
It was almost palpable to Cog how the spider's gaze prickled his neck, and no surprise when he caught her glaring. Then, when she had his attention, she immediately directed it to the same sketchblock from the coffee shop. Her tight, tidy style of writing was all over it again.
Please pay attention, it read.
You're still with the others. I've seen them. Are you going to keep traveling with them? I would like to acquire your cooperation.
The wolf's gaze didn't alter visibly, although this was nothing new. His head turned just slightly as he read the notebook, and he adjusted his red hat for just a moment before pushing the notebook back.
"What, my disguise didn't even fool you?" he said, tsking with mock disappointment. "I thought red suited me. Ah, well..." he tapped his fingers. "To answer: I am, I am, I see, I am, and...continue."
He waited for the Walrus to finish with whatever it was he was doing, and waited for the spider's response. Light glittered off his shades.
Mel was looking in the window of a shop to assess how many of their shopping needs it could satisfy when the discussion began between Kerya and Ignatz regarding the stoat's rather impetuous nature and efforts to curb it. The store seemed to be the type that had belonged to multiple generations of the same family and still had some of it's original stock tucked away in odd corners. Just the sort of place to get a diverse assortment of items. She was just turning the doorknob to enter when Ignatz declared the shopping trip over and started off in the opposite direction. The pseudo-swan shook her head and muttered, "If you children don't behave we are turning around and going right back home."
Rather than following Mel chose to enter the shop. They still needed equipment despite the disagreement in the party.
...Keaton:
Keaton watched Stygian and Kerya rather apprehensively out of the corner of her eyes, purposefully turned away. Feeling a little uncharacteristically awkward during their altercation, she decided to shuffle away from the stoat and the bat, mumbling, "Um, I'll be right back, guys. I just remembered something," in a quick murmur before she followed Mel. Watching the small stoat and the significantly taller bat argue was profoundly disturbing, largely because of the profoundly disturbing mental images filling her head, particularly involving one of them eating the other, or blowing up the city in an explosive magic battle. If one of those options did happen, Keaton wasn't going to be around to see it. As she trailed behind the swan, her mind randomly dug up a topic which intrigued her, although it probably wasn't relevant anymore. She poked Mel on the shoulder to catch her attention.
"What was that about marshmallows?" Keaton asked hopefully.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya's shoulder twitched once as Sebastian's voice seemed to come from throat-biting range, right beside her ear. She didn't otherwise react, though, until the bat had turned and walked away, then she sighed a little sadly and glanced over her shoulder at him.
She grinned impishly for a moment at Mel's comment, then after a few seconds she followed the black swan into the shop. "I shall come with you for the moment, if you will," she said to Mel and Keaton. "I must be chary — I am loath to hazard aggrieving Sebastian, or distracting him, but I fear I may if we rub each others' fur aslant for much longer. He discomfits me so much at times... I think he mistakes me, but I am unsure how!"
Nodding his head slightly as he listened to Deirdre reply to his offer, Gareeku's eyes blinked behind his dark sunglasses. It wasn't often nowadays that people, particularly other adventurers, were so...well...nice, to him anyway. His demonic-looking eye hadn't exactly won him any best pals. Neither had his newfound gruff attitude towards pratically everyone else, for that matter.
Deidre, however, was different. Not only did she not be a complete ass to him, he didn't feel like being a complete ass to her, either.
"I'm Gareeku...Gareeku Manoko." The wolf said quietly, still somewhat taken aback, though it wasn't as if he did not like it. The Manoko name was well known in some adventuring circles, but a lot of people didn't take a guy with a demonic-looking eye and a slight attitude problem that seriously when they referred to themselves as part of a well-known adventuring name. "Nice to meet you...so...um...How long have you been adventuring for?"
The spider's look back at Cog was no less charged, while her hand scribbled to work under the supervision of only one corner eye. She was conflicted, but there was no one else that she could trust as much as him. The incubi could not be considered. The adventurers were rash and most likely disinterested, having their own perceptions. The little... thing, she had no idea. And the dragon was, again, out of the question.
'I don't think we have much time. I want you to be my eyes and ears. Your companions cannot be trusted, but Giles trusted you. That makes you my lifeline here.' The letters she wrote were quick and cramped, yet did not veer in their precision. She was clearly an experienced writer. 'I have others that I need to keep check of. You know who.' She tapped that sentence with a wicked claw for a second, before continuing. 'We need time and control. You will be leaving here soon. Can I ask you to tell me for where?'
Mel smiled a bit at Keaton's inquiry. "Well, whoever heard of a camping trip without a marshmallow roast?" When Kerya decided to take a rest from Ignatz in the store the dragon decided to put both to work. Despite being far taller than the other two in her current incarnation Mel couldn't manage to see far amongst the items in the crowded store. "It looks as if Ignatz is planning for an extended stay away from civilization so we'll need a lot of supplies. Why don't we split up? Grab whatever you think we'll need and meet me at the counter." She took a few strides in the direction she hoped camping gear would be in she added, "That includes those marshmallows if you like."
...Geez...yeah, chica, you should've known that in a big city, you tend to lose sight of people. Well, at least a few of us are still recognizable. Wonder what time it is anyway, maybe people are thinning out for lunch.
As Aisha tended to do while walking along on her own, she let her mind wander while her eyes did the searching. The group couldn't have really gone far, and she knew where they were seen last. But as she came up toward the corner, it was apparent that they indeed had moved.
Just then, she spotted someone familiar walking behind the crowd...from brief glimpses of her vision she knew that indeed it was Stygian heading back toward where Cogidubnus was last seen...yet he was with the group before.
Her ears lowered to the back of her skull. What happened to keeping together? Well, I might as well head in the opposite direction.
And so the dark panthress did, walking past shop by shop...until finally, a bunch of familiar figures caught her eyes, behind the dark vision of the sunglasses. Gareeku was speaking with the gryphon Dierdre, Richard was standing nearby, and she figured the other three were in the store. Sighing with relief, she trotted up to the former three with her bags in tow.
"There you are, muchachos...I brought some first-aid kits and potions, as well as some food for us all. For those who eat. Grab some stuff to put in your own bags when we get them." She smirked and set the bags down, relieving herself of their burden while she leaned against the wall and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "How much longer is this gonna take, I wonder..."
...Keaton:Keaton nodded to Mel, then gazed around the store. Eventually, her vision drifted to a conspicuously vibrant-colored aisle, apparently stocked with a wide variety of treats. Judging by the festive decorations and symbols emblazoning the packages and bags, they were apparently intended for Easter or other holidays. When Keaton was a child, Easter was always her favorite holiday - largely because, instead of celebrating it as modern children did, by revering some ubiquitous rabbit effigy, those in Harla'Keth exchanged sweets and other candies Keaton was extraordinarily fond of. To this day, besides her clan's natural proclivity for suffering, Keaton also had a taste for Schadenfreude, which was characteristically "sweet."
Keaton wanted to watch her figure, but... the aisle was just so tempting. And Mel did say it was alright for her to buy some marshmallows... that was all.
Glancing back and forth surreptitiously, Keaton crept into the candy aisle, then started searching for her favored treat. Keaton eventually noticed a large box filled with small, sugar-encrusted marshmallows, all of which were in the shapes of adorable chicks. Most of them were yellow, but some blues and purples were arranged in other boxes of marshmallow peeps. Keaton hated any marshmallow peeps other than the yellow ones (anything of another color was somehow inedible to her), so she snatched up the box of yellow peeps, clutching it to her chest possessively. And before she could stop herself, she was starting to consider getting something else. After all, they were going to be traveling for a
long time... and didn't Stygian say it was alright to buy things, since it was on his tab?
A few minutes later, Keaton emerged from the aisle with a shopping basket draped over her arm, the basket stuffed with confectioneries. Boxes of (yellow) marshmallow peeps filled the basket alongside chocolate figures crafted like rabbits, bags of peanut butter cups, crunch bars, M&Ms, gummy bears and sharks, sweet and sour candies, and other flavorful and potentially cavity-inducing treats. Keaton clutched the handle of the basket with a clearly obsessive glint in her eye, then expectantly gestured to the basket. "Well, I think this is enough for m--
us for
our trip." Keaton said, dead serious.
---
...Deirdre:Deirdre scratched behind one of her ears with a curved talon, the tufted tip of her ear flickering, her features fixating into a thoughtful frown. In the back of her mind, she distantly recalled hearing about the name
Manoko before at least a few times in her Adventuring career - but she couldn't immediately remember the context. Almost a moment later, a look of revelation replaced the slight flash of confusion lurking under her eyes, and she brightened considerably, appearing quite pleased with her memory.
"What, you mean
the Gareeku Manoko?" Deirdre repeated, just to clarify. When it seemed as though Gareeku's answer wasn't going to change, she let her enthusiasm leak into her expression. "I've heard of you! Your family's pretty well-known in the Adventuring business. Good to finally meet you!"
After a moment, Deirdre pondered the exact time she spent as an Adventurer. Maybe she was acting a little
too friendly, but she was just glad to have someone sane to converse with in this group - not to mention a fellow Adventurer of considerable renown. Keeping in mind that some of the people in the group were Creatures with poor reputations, she didn't want to be pegged as a murderous, rampaging Creature-slayer because of her occupation. "I had been adventuring for... over ten years, but I retired recently. I think... a few months ago."
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Kerya's uncharacteristically dour mood brightened when Mel suggested she and Keaton start looking for useful items they'd need once they left the city again. The jackal immediately stalked off towards one particular shelf with an intense hunting gaze in her eyes, while Kerya went the other way.
Now, let me see, what can we get here, she thought. The shop hadn't looked big from outside, but it was crowded — the stacks and shelves were laid out in tall rows, closely packed together, many of them going almost all the way up to the ceiling. There were a few places here and there where even Kerya needed to wriggle through a whisker-narrow gap.
As she explored further, the little stoat came across more things to puzzle her. The translation spell she used, which allowed her to read the very different writing system here on Furrae, appeared to have limits, as she read various boxes and labels. What, for instance, was a right-handed dexitroboper, and what kind of complete toolkit would a quantum mechanic use? In a dark corner she discovered a tall block of what looked like concrete, cryptically labelled only "JH". Very mysterious.
Still, the little stoat managed to accumulate as much as she could carry in one shopping basket as she browsed from one aisle to another. Four candles, in case any of the others ended up in the dark without a mage nearby. She wasn't sure why she'd picked up the two small boxes labelled "O's" and "P's", but they were bound to come in handy somehow or other. One of the odder things she'd picked up looked like a bladed hook of some kind, or perhaps a very small scythe. She'd shrugged and put it back down again.
Finally, Kerya found herself back at the front of the shop, beside Mel. "This is all I could find from a quick look," she said, as she hefted the nearly overflowing and rather heavy basket onto the counter.
The wolf read the spider's cramped and yet clear handwriting quickly, and suddenly wished the damn walrus wasn't taking so long with his paperwork. He licked his teeth, and pushed his shades up a little tighter around his eyes, giving the spider blank look with hidden, shaded eyes.
"Do you really think I know anything?" he said, his mouth all but tightly pinched, although his voice was more curious than anything else. He spoke lowly, beneath the hearing of the Walrus shopkeeper. "Who are you? Another dog of the church? A sect? A rival?"
He paused.
The wolf shook his head. "Giles is dead." he said, turning his head. "Who he trusted doesn't matter. I'm not out for a crusade. Just revenge. A life for a life. Help me with that, you can have whatever you want."
He didn't look at her. "I don't know where we're going. The car is just preparedness on my part. If you want to watch us, I won't stop you."
He fell silent, and by his posture, it was obvious he considered the conversation over.
Mel found herself at the counter with just an eclectic assortment of items as the others. A mix of camping gear, hardware, and housewares floated gently in her wake. She looked with amusement at Keaton's idea of emergency supplies but gestured her to place it in front of the bored looking mouse behind the antique register along with everything else. It seemed to take forever for the sleepy-looking mouse to come up with a final total and conclude the transaction. With one sweeping gesture from the swan all the purchases disappeared with a bit of a blue shimmer. "Time to find the others. We have taken far too long," observed Mel as she turned and began the challenge of winding her way back through the store and out the door.
A sharp slap from the spider's palm on the counter and an equally sharp stare broke Cog out of his train of thought, bringing his attention to her little sketchblock again, and drawing a quick stare from the walrus as well. She continued to glare at him even as her hands scribbled about more. She wrote only one line, before holding it up before him.
'You cannot kill Laertes!' it read, and she solidified the statement with that glare, until she sighed and looked down. Placing a third hand on her face that came out of her jacket rather unexpectedly, she continued to write, hoping he had the patience to stay with her. It seemed to be one of the rare moments when she wished that she were able to talk, because that hand wandered to her throat, rubbing it.
There was a light chime of a bell as the shop's front door opened, and the spider almost shot up, her grip on her pen tightening and her neck craning. She was over by the wall in a heartbeat, looking around it, scanning the front of the store from underneath a shelf of stainless steel wrenches, Allen keys and tool extensions. She drew back in a flash, baring fiercely sharp and strange teeth between odd mouthparts for a second, and then looked to Cog again. Immediately, she raised her sketchblock, jotted down a few quick lines, ripped off the paper and then swiftly shoved it in the wolf's hand, before rushing back into the machine shop. The walrus called out to her, moving back over the floor with a bunch of papers in his hand, and the monkey looked up after her, but she rounded a corner in the back before either could get hold of her, and from both their puzzled expressions it was clear that she was nowhere to be seen anymore.
'What the hell...?!' the walrus muttered with clear consternation, before turning back to Cog, and handing him what looked like a couple of instruction manuals and, more importantly, insurance and registration papers. 'Sign there, and there', he said, pointing out spaces on an invoice. 'I'll take this, you get that... and I'll just go see... Aidan! Find out what the heck that was about if you can!' He muttered something inaudible, before starting to walk back out front. He didn't get more than behind the counter though, before the new arrival walked up.
'Exc-', the female wolf began, stopping abruptly. Her eyes widening a bit, Ace stared blankly at Cog, yellow eyes going colder with each moment.
"Try and stop m-"
Cog paused, his retort to the spider's written admonition cut short as she hurriedly scribbled down something else, ripped it off the page, and stuffed it into his hand. The wolf's mouth clapped shut shortly after as she stormed off, ostensibly into an employees-only area of the shop, where she was quickly lost track of. He blinked, having no time to even read the paper when the walrus, in an amazing display of timeliness, presented him with the papers he needed to sign. Cog reached into his jacket for his pen.
And paused, his shaded eyes meeting those of the acrobatic wolf from before. Still alive, even after the destruction of the city.
He considered pretending not to know her. His disguise, however, was suited only to perhaps throw off someone looking for a general description of him, and by the other wolf's rapidly deteriorating gaze, he surmised she'd recognized him already. And remembering her maneuvers in the club before, she wasn't someone to be lightly brushed aside...
She was a fighter, though. Two hundred years of swordsmanship and combat had honed the wolf's skills razor sharp. If she wanted a fight, he'd give her one.
Making a conscious effort, the wolf didn't change his expression in the least, but simply reached up to his head to adjust his hat. He touched the brim, moving it just slightly, still not paying any attention to the wolf staring at him, and without preamble tossed it at her gently.
The wide brimmed hat floated through the air, obscuring parts of the wolf, the hat moving deceptively fast to rest on Ace's head.
Cog waited just long enough for Ace to be distracted by the bright red thing flying at her face before grabbing the hilt of his sword. A moment later, his sword had cut a horizontal arc in the air, a blindingly fast silver blur aimed for her arms and chest, the more difficult parts of the body to retreat with. When he'd crossed the slight distance between them was uncertain - but the wolf's speed was clearly prodigious, Cog moving from a standing posture to slashing three steps away in less time than it took to blink. If one could have even seen the wolf for more than a half-second, his expression would have still carried the same, blank look it had before.
Cogidubnus' attack was quicker and more well thought through than an untrained mind could have picked up in such a short time. It took more than a second before the walrus began shouting, calling out to them and telling his companion to call the guard. Before that though, Ace had already snatched the hat out of the air, and two heavy impacts rocked the wolf's hands as he struck. Not the visceral slicing of flesh. That was not good.
'Way to greet a lady, innit?!' Ace snarled. Metal hinted through the holes sliced in her coat, wrapped tight around her forearms and scarred where she had deflected the blows. She was up in Cog's face in a flash, pushing him back with a fearsome strength that he simply could not have expected from a woman a full hand shorter than himself. Grinning, she slammed him tight against the counter, pinning him with his blade against his chest and the surprising weight of her body against him. 'I don't think we've made our introductions. My name's Ace. Ace of blades.' A slight ringing tone preceded the arrival of a long throwing knife into the wolfess' left hand, which she raised to Cog's face. 'Nice coat, by the way.'
There was the sound of the chambering of a shotgun. His face a thunderhead, the walrus pointed a rather menacing twelve-gauge at the both of them, sighting down the barrel. 'Get the hell out of here', he growled. 'You want to fight, do it in the street. I'm sure the guards will appreciate, and you won't be breaking anything in my shop. I have a good mind not to sell you that car now either', he added with a look to Cog.
'Oh, don't worry. We were just leaving', Ace grinned, her steady gaze firmly locked with the other wolf''s.
The owner's shotgun worried Cogidubnus only marginally more than the long knife currently hovering in front of his face. The Walrus was just looking out for his property, and was likely more than a little disturbed by this sudden turn of events, which in some ways was more dangerous than the calculated threat the smaller wolf was presenting him.
Her strength acted as a surprising foil to his speed. He wouldn't have expected her to not only be able to stop a blow, but push it and the wolf all the way back into the counter. Her yellow eyes drilled into his, an exultant grin on her face as she pressed him into the counter.
Cogidubnus's face, by comparison, was blank, a smooth slate, simply a pair of shaded glass eyes and an indifferent expression. While the shopkeeper yelled and fumed, the wolf shifted one foot. As the other wolf opened her mouth to speak, grinning fiercely, her grip on the larger wolf suddenly vanished, somehow pushed back by just inches, and Cogidubnus shifted his weight to the side, leveraging off his foot and moving. His right hand snapped up, too fast to see, and grabbed her wrist, yanking it forward while his head and body moved to the side. The sword slid and shifted, the pinned blade sliding horizontally and then couching against his forearm.
All in a fraction of a moment.
The sword glittered, the light sparkling off the edge while he maneuvered the lupine juggernaut between him and the shotgun toting Walrus, and redirecting her force to the side of him, stabbed at her face, her sudden forward momentum used against her.
Somewhere, something exploded. From out of nowhere, like a bomb going off inside the building, the sound of thunder echoed through loud enough to leave ears ringing, and seemingly loud enough to wake the dead.
Kerya had just come out of the shop behind Mel, when a loud rumble echoed along the street. She flinched slightly and flattened her ears. "Is that thunder...?"
The wolf's weight acted against her, but her balance was impeccable, and she managed to turn together with Cog even as she was forced to catch herself against the counter, her free hand reaching after the wolf to grab him once more. Her reward though, was a swift stab to the face, which she only barely managed to turn, the blade slicing upward over her cheek, making a deep flesh wound. Lashing out, she knocked the other wolf back, Cogidubnus lifting from the floor from a one-armed strike and being knocked painfully into a shelf, his back immediately the subject of stabbing prods from several iron hangers.
'Argh...! Strike that then...!' Ace fumed, grabbing her face for barely a second, before flashing out a whole set of knives in that hand, three of them held between her fingers. The walrus, who had practically leapt back to get out of things raised his shotgun once more, and things looked to be taking a very bad ending. Then, the door to the shop opened with a clink from the bell again, and someone stepped in. There was a slight pause.
'Is this a bad time?' Stygian said, his face bearing an almost boorish expression, but his eyes glinting with focus. Ace's eyes flashed, and she paled visibly. Then, the door opened yet again. The bat began turning.
'Ace, I think I saw tha- HOLY GODS FUCK!' Carey shouted, jumping on the spot, his shock at Stygian's proximity showing quite clearly. The bat himself tried to interject, raising a hand, but before anyone else could do more than twitch, the otter had embedded a knife in his ribcage. Again, there was a moment's pause, the bat looking down, and then up at Carey with an indignant glare.
'Ow!' he snarled. 'My fucking coat!'
Being launched through the air was also not something Cogidubnus had expected. He slammed painfully into a wall, the contents of the shelf and the iron hangers sticking out of it prodding painfully into his back before the swordsman dropped back onto the floor in an undignified pile. He sucked in a breath between his teeth, and shifted quickly to his feet, prepared to dodge thrown knives or whatever else the walking arsenal would throw at him.
The doorbell clinked. Cog's attention shifted to the side for a fraction of a second as Stygian walked in.
He'd rather hoped that the loud thunder sound would have spooked the Walrus into firing right then, but the man had a better grip on his nerves than Cog gave him credit for. The bat's appearance, however, seemed to have unnerved the smaller wolf. Cog took the opportunity to reach into his jacket, grabbing something.
Multiple lights suddenly flared all around the wolf, lights blinking on and then off at various points on the wolf's body. His appearance blurred for a moment, smudging, and then cleared up as the lights faded. His sword, however, began to smoke just slightly, a light fog pouring off the blade.
Although she'd knocked him away, Cog had no desire to close to melee distance again either. His hand emerged from his coat pocket, a small golden coin contained between two fingers, and standing up quickly the wolf reared back with one hand as though he was going to punch the air in front of him. As he did so, however, his hand slowed for just a moment, fighting some sort of resistance at the zenith of the punch, and then breaking through with a roar. A violent wave of force erupted from the wolf's fist, carrying the small coin at the apex of the wave.
Before it reached the smaller wolf, however, it exploded like a second sun in the room, blindingly bright as it rushed for the Ace of Blades.
The blinding flash turned the world into a bright, agony-white slate, and Cog heard screams, first from Stygian, then from Carey. Barely an eyeblink passed, and then he heard the blast of the shotgun, painful to his ears that close and in a sealed space, and the shatter of glass. Another blast, and he felt his face sting.
'You stupid piece of hairy...!' Stygian's voice called out, part-choked and more rasping than ever, before a crash was heard. Carey flew into a shelf and across the room, and a gray blur that was Ace had already dodged on pure reflex and instinct in something close to the opposite direction. The walrus was screaming profanities, Ace had meat cleaver-esque knives in each hand and was tense as a violin string, staring around blindly, and Stygian was pressed up against a wall, holding his face, snarling ferociously, groping for the door.
Obviously, the gunshot was not hard to hear, even through the commotion and the passing of some engined craft down a lower street. People turned, looking around worriedly, while a guard standing by a corner and a couple of merchant's strongarms behind Deirdre and Gareeku reached for their weapons, grabbing them tightly but not drawing as they looked over their heads from atop some stairs. Glass splintered and people immediately shouted and parted around the front of a shop.
Mel had heard the thunder as well. "Not natural. I hope it is someone experimenting and not a nearby fight." But her hope was in vain as two shotgun blasts directly followed. It seemed to be coming from the next terrace up. There was a steep enough grade that you could just get glimpses of the street and shops above between the buildings. Then the glass exploded outward from one window. With her excellent distance vision the dragon could read the name of the shop Surplus Army Supply and Depot and Used Car Sales. Sounded like a good place to find camping supplies, like the backpacks Cog had been sent to find. "Do any of you know where the others went?"
Aisha hummed to herself as she leaned against the wall of the shop, waiting for the others and watching Dierdre and Gareeku conversing. It wasn't a moment later before a black swan, whom she remembered as Mel, came walking out of the door of the shop. Kerya had to be in there somewhere too.
The panthress looked down at her bag, which she noticed was still unopened. Despite the invitation to grab their first-aid kits, nobody yet seemed to notice when she came back from getting them. Well, maybe when we're all together again, she shrugged and pushed her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose. So long as things were going smoothly, there wouldn't be a problem...
And then came the explosions. A sound like thunder, or an earthquake, or both, that roared over the heads of the crowds without the distinct feeling of being shaken. And then, the explosive roar that Aisha hated ringing in her ears no matter how much the distance; that could only be gunshots.
Kicking away from the wall, she noticed that behind the group there were a few other people getting out their own weapons, as if they were ready for such a thing. The crowd were either walking or trotting away, and there were even screams one terrace up and far enough away to barely see, but definitely hear.
Her ears flattened. They weren't even together again yet, and already something was wrong?!
Mel noticed it too, and Aisha followed her gaze while she listened to her question. "I don't want to make guesses, amiga, but I did see the bat heading in that direction." Her crimson eyes narrowed, and she had to resist the urge to go for her sword in the middle of the public as the noise seemed to only persist. "And if he and the missing people of ours are responsible for that, again, I swear to the friggin' gods that I'll consider just walking away from all of this crap, right after I take their heads off."
The annoyed jaguar didn't know whether or not to go and investigate. Here they were in a new city, a familiar city to a few...it was in their best interest not to be associated with more trouble while they were on the run...
...Keaton:Something akin to juvenile glee flashed in the back of Keaton's eyes as she watched Mel confirm her ridiculously large purchase. Swiveling a little on her heels, she bounced to and fro on the balls of her feet, her arms folded jauntily behind her back and a slight smile on her face, as though she was a child awaiting, with deliberately good behavior, the delivery of a new toy into her anticipative arms. Because she partially felt obligated, Keaton - slight reluctance added - hesitantly interjected with a pleasant "Thank you" to Mel, self-consciously unfolding her arms and stretching them outward, flexing the sinewy muscle. Almost as though she wanted to eliminate the mental image of childishness by blatantly demonstrating her physique.
Before she could say anything to start, in her opinion, any attempts at pleasant conversation, a loud, thunderous bang rang out over the air outside of the shop. Keaton froze in place, her right ear pivoting upright and her head swinging in the direction of where the sound originated, a look of stunned shock plastered on her face. Mel was already moving out of the door, and, without many other options, Keaton cursed loudly and broke into a run, elbowing open the door, which yielded with a perfunctory jingle of the bell poised over its edge. The pain flaring in her elbow from slamming against the heavy door instantly made her regret that decision, but before Keaton could express her remorse through a number of one-syllable words, she forced her body into motion, hoping no one had saw that.
---
...Deirdre and Keaton:Just before Deirdre could continue her and Gareeku's conversation, she heard an explosive noise erupt from one of the stores. People were already going on the offensive, unloading their weapons and glaring for the offender, and Deirdre, victim to the impulses an Adventurer picks up after a long and prosperous career, followed suit, drawing her sword in an elegant motion. Shortly following this explosion was a spectacular flash of light emitting from a nearby store, its lustrous rays shooting helter-skelter as the glass of the windows ballooned, and then ruptured in a spray of shards. Each and every individual chunk of glass, after its brief propulsion, clattered and splattered unceremoniously along the pavement. Deirdre stared in resolute horror at the bent and bruised frames of the windows, the eviscerated glass stripped away to permit her a peek within, one which she sincerely regretted, as she forced herself to recoil when her oversensitive eyes burned. Inside the store, she could still see some vestigial traces of concentrated light retreating into its heart, and could still hear vehement cursing, caterwauling. If she was a Cubi she would have been getting a migraine off of the different flavors of emotions issuing from the fiasco.
It reminded Deirdre of what it would have been like if God condensed the sun into a dwarfish orb and dropped it in the middle of a madhouse, then casually rested on the sidelines and watched the insanity deteriorate.
Deirdre instantly summarized her interpretation of the events in her head and translated all her agitation into her expression. Her ears laid back, and her beak twisted in an angry sneer, parting generously enough to allow her to utter, "Those stupid
twats," under her breath, an unusually "loquacious" statement given her usually agreeable disposition.
Almost as though that was a trigger, Keaton came stumbling to a halt at a disquietingly close proximity to Deirdre - the obnoxious hammering of those absurdly heavy boots against the pavement was almost signature of her by now. Deirdre remembered using that to find her, once, but memories like that were irrelevant. Keaton was tugging and fidgeting with the band fastening the studded, obsidian knuckle-plate to the gauntlet strapped to her left arm. She looked, amidst those compulsory reactions, quite disturbed, or worried about the commotion.
"What's going on?" Keaton asked, for once devoid of any disrespect or patronizing comments. Deirdre found this absence especially remarkable, but wasn't about to congratulate Keaton on learning some manners.
Deirdre, in a foul mood, retorted in a manner she thought was appropriate. "I don't know. One of your friends must be fucking this up, due to their uncanny ability to set things on fi--HEY, WHAT ARE YOU--"
As Deirdre was speaking, a strange transition took place. At the word "friends" Keaton's face contorted into one of grotesque concern, and as Deirdre progressed with her tirade she took one look at the decimated store and charged, obviously able to attribute its state of dilapidation to the mistakes of her comrades. Bounding forward, Keaton swung one of her gauntlet-clad fists around and swatted a stray dagger of glass impeding her aside like a pesky weed, her spike-mounted knuckles decapitating that refined, pointed chunk of detritus. With another kick Keaton slammed her heel to the window frame, using it as support, and craned her body upward in a show of agility, peering inside.
~Keaton the Black Jackal
Having observed Deirdre's response to his introduction, Gareeku was somewhat taken aback at the woman's enthusiasm. Before he could respond, however, the wolf look to where a commotion was stemming from, catching the sounds of gunshots.
"Oh for fucks sake..." Gareeku snarled, furious at the fact that the effort to try and remain unnoticed had been and truly shot down in flames. Again. "Those stupid fucking idiots!"
Turning to the others, the wolf motioned in the direction of where the noises of gunfire where being heard from.
"So...any ideas on how to solve the problem those idiots have caused this time?" Gareeku asked, growls of anger well and truly present in his voice as he spoke. "Because I swear to the heavens above; if people start killing for no reason like they did last time, I'm out of here."
Kerya flinched again at the sound of the gunshots from somewhere not too far away. These sounded a lot louder and more powerful than the small weapons the guards had fired at them during the chaos in the club last night. The reactions of the others only confirmed her suspicion that something else had gone wrong. "Oh, shave it, not again..." she muttered. Then she turned towards the black swan again, holding out her shopping bag. "Mel, can you make this go wherever your own bags went, at least until we are finished here? If we are about to become busy again, I cannot carry it around, and it would be an annoyance to lose some of this."
Sunglasses, while being intimidating and stylish, also provided the distinct advantage of letting the wolf not be blinded by his own attacks. Wincing just a bit as pellets from the walrus's shotgun blast pattered off the cling-wrap shield his charm had conjured, the wolf whispered under his breath and gestured sharply at Ace, his hands crooking into a claw as she stared around blindly. White sparks fell from his fingertips as he spoke, growing in number and intensity, until with another surprisingly bright flash a blue-white bolt of lightning arced violently for the armored wolf in a stream as thick as his arm.
Taking his glasses off and tumbling out the door, leaning on the wall for support, Stygian leaned over and rubbed his eyes hard, growling in a deep rumble almost under his breath. His eyes stung and his ears still rang too much for him to effectively hear his way forward. Unlike what others would say, he was lost in the light, not in the dark. Sunglasses might have protected Cog, or possibly some sort of ward. Or he might have simply closed his eyes. With his disposition though, Stygian was not so lucky.
'Oh my g-...' he heard a woman's voice, and he realized quite quickly that Carey's knife was still sticking through his ribs, buried right next to his sixth vertebra and shoved in halfway to the hilt. He heard an approaching step, looked up reflexively even though everything was still a white blur, then heard her flinch to a stop, gasp, and then turn and rush away. Digging his claws into the wall, he gritted his teeth, and reached around his back.
Down the street, two Guards dressed in sharp, reinforced uniforms called in, then wrapped their hands around the handles of their weapons, one a revolver and the other a sword, and began running up the street while dodging the crowd as well as they could and shouting for people to clear the way.
- -
Her fur rose, static charging the air and metal objects around reacting with near-inaudible buzzes or clinks, and Ace looked ready to dodge immediately. If there was ever a greater virtue to lightning magic than its speed though, it did not receive due credit. The charged, sizzling stream tore through the air with a great, skull-grating, hard sound, and impacted with the wolfess' torso. She shuddered, took a step back, and stopped. She blinked. Sparks still coruscated around her, but she seemed unaffected. Cog thought that he could see a hint of something glowing within the collar of her undershirt, up the side of her neck. It was just a glimpse though, one swiftly cut off as she turned her head and a sliver of hair and her chin came in the way, as she narrowed her eyes, and found him with her gaze once more.
'
Useless!' she spat, grinning. And then, still sizzling, she leaped at him, blades swinging for his elbows and knees.
Kerya's packages disappeared with little more than a glance from Mel. Then she was following Keaton's path up the street to the shattered storefront. The symbols on her mage robes began faintly glowing a pale blue as she got closer to the source of the sound of fighting. When the guards ran past she slowed her pace and tried to look like an average nosy bystander.
Kerya nodded her thanks to Mel as her by now large, heavy and awkward shopping bag vanished. The next time, though, she wanted to have a closer look at that spell as it was being cast. If it did what she thought, it would be very useful to her.
For the present, though, the little stoat had other concerns. If Sebastian and Cogidubnus had run into trouble, they might need help. As she hurried to catch up with Mel and Keaton, she ran through a list in her mind of a few spells she might need, readying them for instant use. A faint glow ran up her staff from bottom to top, and sparks danced for a moment along the clawtips of her free hand. Whatever was happening up ahead, she was ready for it.
As Kerya looked about, she noticed a number of other people, armed and with the look of guards about them, also heading towards the disturbance, against the flow of not yet panicked but definitely worried passers-by beginning to hurry away. That made her a little more anxious: the last thing she wanted was a misunderstanding with the local authorities.
There was a commotion, and furrae nature was a potent master when it came to commotions. Unlike sensible, sane, nonsentient creatures, a furrae would run TOWARD a commotion to find out what it was. Richard was swept along with Kerya and the rest of the others on the basis that if you're going to be an innocent bystander you'd better be the fastest, most efficient and all around best innocent bystander you can be. On the day undead were called upon to rubberneck for the olympics, Richard Trochoufski would heed the call and bring honor to his acquired race. Gradually he noticed things while en route to the scene of the Event though. Like recogniseable shouts. And smashing noises. And approaching police officers.
Unfortunately, it wasn't until he reached the edge of the frightened crowd and saw it himself. Yep. His teammates in there. The zombie froze in place.
...
"Awwwwwww FUCK!"
Aisha was just about as ticked as the rest of the group, if not more so...here she thought they had escaped any sort of trouble...
Of course, it was easy to see that they all felt that way. Soon enough, Keaton had bounded away up down the street and over to the building to see what was going on...followed by Mel, Kerya, and just then, Richard...all of them getting caught up in the crowd of bystanders that would more than likely get hurt. The only ones that she didn't see leave were Dierdre and Gareeku, but it was hard to pay attention to anything when something like this was going on.
"Guys...mierda, muchachos, wait a second!" she growled, trying to get one of them...but her voice was lost. There was just no stopping them running towards the commotion.
She leaned against the wall of the shop for a moment, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes through the underside of her sunglasses. Dammit all, I HATE being chased after. I'm gonna kill whoever's responsible for all this. Even if they're on our own team, if it's who I think it is.
"Whoever else wants to go after them, be my guest," she muttered. "I'm staying out of the fire, unless someone's gonna force me."
The iaidouka remembered the smaller wolf's strength well, and wasn't eager to close the distance between either of them that quickly. Bringing his sword up over his head, his feet moved to prepare a sidestep and angular slash. At the last moment, however, the wolf's left hand came down and bunched into a fist again, the wolf rearing back and twisting with his hips before again punching the air. Distortion flowed over him with a roar, another wave of force clawing forward to slam into the charging wolf, while his sword came down into a lower defensive posture, prepared to block the swipe for his elbows as he moved to the side, his foot ready to crash down on her lower-arcing blade.
The wolf kept his awareness keen, his ears perked for the sound of any movement around him, and he made sure his eyes weren't only locked on his opponent, staring through her into the surroundings. The walrus had been quiet, Laertes was nowhere to be seen, and he seemed to remember one other person in the garage too - assuming he had run might not be the wisest course of action either.
Sparks flew as the strange shockwave slammed into the wolfess. Yet if Cog had been aiming to push back Ace, he only succeeded in moderation. She was slowed, her swiping blades going off course, yet she quickly caught Cog's foot coming down on her wrist. She didn't manage to avoid the strike, but instead of going for his elbows, she tumbled down and forward, under his guard, letting her free knife bite into the leg he was placing his weight on. It was an awkward and cheap strike, but better than any alternative. Underneath the other wolf now, nearly on her back, she took what next shot she could. Kicking upward, a foot weighing like his entire torso hit Cogidubnus in the stomach, and he was catapulted through the window out onto the glass-covered street, right in front of a very surprised and shocked Kerya.
The wolfess had only the time to smile and get up again, before a shotgun blast hit her leg, cloth ripping away and a few sparks striking up as the pellets hit solid metal.
'
Get out! Get out you bastards!'
- -
Still rubbing his eyes, Stygian backed up against the nearest wall, feeling his way forth. His sight was slowly returning, though the daylight was certainly not helping. Seeking the shade of the front of the shops and the nearest alley, he tugged at the knife with some trouble. It was a rather large hunting blade, with serrations and hooks along the back edge, making it both painful and hard to remove. He heard the shopkeeper cry out from behind, and strangely, Richard's gravelly voice especially as it cut through the commotion with his last exclamation. He had to go back there, and set things straight, or they might all...
'Allow me to help you with that.'
The bat recognized the voice, but half a second too late. He let out a breathless rasp, as the knife in his back was twisted around hard, and pulled out, leaving a considerable hole. Twisting, he struck out, claws already turning to knife-like blades. But before he could do much of anything, he received a screaming blast of light to his face that smashed him right into a crate in the mentioned alley. With the bat out of commission, Laertes chuckled, and proceeded toward the front of the shop, where conveniently his next prey had been laid out for him.
The dragon's first reaction at the sight of injured Cog at her feet and the singing loony from the bar coming at them was to step between them. But the sight of at least two uniformed officers forcing their way through the crowd short-circuited that instinct. "Kerya, Richard. Run! Tell Aisha and Gar that there is trouble." Moving quickly she pulled something from her bag and tossed it at Kerya's head. A clockwork butterfly fluttered between them and settled into the stoat's hair like a jeweled barrette. Mel had made the toy herself and knew that enough of her magic was on it that she would be able to locate Kerya if the rest of the party didn't get too far away. Her appearance changed at the same time; her robes returned to their original rich appearance while her black swan visage became older and a bit stooped. One of the shopping baskets reappeared in her arms. Mel was now a rich, elderly tourist, too shocked at the sudden violence to get out of the way of it. If she was lucky the nice young officers might even find the poor frightened grandmother a nice seat to sit on while she recovered her wits and she would be able to see everything that happened to Cog, the unfortunately in the middle of the scene Keaton, and hopefully Ignatz if he was nearby. If she wasn't lucky she was betting that street officers didn't carry anti-magic charms strong enough to keep her from teleporting away.
Kerya ran up to the wrecked shopfront just in time to hear another loud detonation from inside, and a few seconds later she chittered with surprise as Cogidubnus came flying out through the shattered window to land in a heap almost at her feet. Before she could rush forward to see if the wolf was all right, Mel told her to run and tossed something into her hair. The little stoat could feel a hint of magic coming from the glittering toy, and thought she knew what the swan was doing. A determined look flashed across her face for a moment, and she did appear to start running back down the road...
... straight into an iridescently glowing sphere of light that suddenly appeared in front of her. Nothing came out the other side, then the sphere vanished. The same patch of nothing-at-all-there moved towards Richard, with a faint sound of pattering footsteps. One of the Undead's jacket pockets opened briefly. The sound of footsteps, rapidly fading away to nothing, moved off to one side, possibly towards the shelter of a doorway. There might have been a hint of magic in the air, as if someone had performed a spell there a short time before, then even that faded away. A trace of mustelid scent lingered for a few more seconds.
But of course, there was nothing there.
Charms of protection were valuable things indeed.
The wolf hadn't forgotten about the smaller wolf's insane strength, but his precautions didn't seem to have helped him any. No-one in his two-hundred years had ever simply charged through one of his force-waves - he could bring down a wall with one, and she'd only been momentarily slowed.
Prodigious strength.
This knowledge, however helped him none as he sailed through the air and then through a nearby window, shattering the glass and crunching the shards on the cling-wrap shield his charm afforded. He lay there for a moment, dazed, and pushed himself up quickly. An elderly black swan was trying desperately to get away from the alley - and moment's hesitation, and the scent confirmed it to be Mel, slightly changed. His eyes stared past the swan at the police gathered around the entrance, and the wolf scowled.
He pushed himself the rest of the way off the ground, sheathing the sword lightning-quick. His hat was still missing, and with another moment his coat was too, nudged into the gutter, and moving at a walking pace, the wolf began to carefully and casually walk the opposite way down the alley.
His countenance changed fast, his features turning into a smudge, and seconds later replaced by a smooth-skinned human.
It was too late for any sort of retraction or rectifying effort. Laertes saw the wolf as he lay on the ground, saw him get up and rush off, and proceeded to stalk after him. He was intercepted though, by both the crowd, and the shout from behind.
'Get your hands up, and walk toward the wall!' The guard had his pistol, a simple but effective, high-powered revolver, trained for the jackal's torso. His companion, his sword still drawn, tugged at a radio, while casting suspicious glances back toward the alley next to the shop.
'Central, this is beta five. We have a probable two-one-one and a five-three-one with multiple suspects on the upper middle of Highwalk, suspect one is a tall, red-coated male...' the shorter, stockier swordsman spoke as quickly and clearly as he could, eyes shifting.
'Get your hands up!' the gunman shouted again, even more anger entering his voice. Laertes, turning slowly, gave him a boorish glance, beginning to raise his hands.
'Also, one wounded civilian, possibly a one-eight-seven. Taking male melanoid jackal suspect into custody. Others appear to be Creatures; requesting aid. Repeat, requesting a restraining squad...'
'Walk toward the wall! You!'
The gunman's aim shifted for a moment as he walked toward the tall jackal, as he watched a coated figure drag a staggering man out of the door of the shop, and advance on the both policemen very quickly. Looking over his shoulder, Laertes could only frown. But even as the officer failed to take his shot, and his sword-bearing companion raised his weapon, dropping the radio and readying some kind of spell, they were as good as dealt with. Stepping to the side, Ace swept her arm out in a bone-crunching blow that turned the side of the badger's ribcage to splinters, killing him and sending him flying back toward his companion. Dropping Carey, who managed to catch his feet, she ignored Laertes' snarling protest, and seized the opportunity. The gunman got one shot off. Then his hand was crushed around the grip of his pistol, and his jaw and neck broken. Not missing a beat, the wolf turned, and began running.
'Well that was bloody flaming unnecessary!' Laertes growled, nevertheless tugging along the otter who was clutching his side. There was no question of stopping. There would be people coming. They would be fortunate to get away in the first place. And their prey was on the move and warned now, though they would be...
The realization that the bat was still laying right behind them and vulnerable made Laertes grunt, and almost spin around on the spot. Instead, he clenched his teeth, and merely growled with frustration, setting off even faster. The city guard would apprehend anyone caught on the scene, and he could inquire with them later. And if Stygian had truly sustained a fatal wound, he could always find him in the morgue. For now, they were simply trying to escape. Unless they could catch the wolf. Or his companions. They were liable to be around...
Cogidubnus was not the only one with a keen nose. His scent still lingered, and Ace had traced it and what she had seen of him walking through the broken window first thing. A slip of a red coat had been all she needed to quicken the pace, and the agitated crowd was parted like so many flies before a swatting hand as she used her weight and strength to simply shove people out of the way.
The red coat laying on the ground before her brought the wolf to a halt, and she cursed hard enough that a man eyed her and backed off. She shifted her gaze angrily, people plainly rounding her as they walked, avoiding getting too close to her, as she scanned for some sign.
'I can... I can move on my own! Let go!' Carey's voice came from behind. He still clutched his side though as he and Laertes moved up from behind.
'You have an iron hanger in your side!' Laertes hissed indignantly. 'Your lung might be punctured! If you don't hold still and let me pull it out...'
'Baboon!' the otter cried out with a voice that wheezed but did not sound very deflated, and pointed straight for Richard, nearly poking Laertes' nose. At almost the exact same time, Ace noticed the parting of the crowd further up, and someone making a sound of disbelief. She caught the sight of Cog's trousers, recognition filling her, and then dashed off.
Kerya took a cautious step out of the doorway she'd been sheltering in. It took a little getting used to, walkiing about in a crowd while invisible. No-one could see you, so no-one knew not to walk into you. She had just spotted Laertes ahead of her when one of the guards stepped forward to challenge the jackal and almost stepped on her. That forced her to dodge someone else, then someone else again. She heard the sounds of a fight, but by the time she'd worked her way back through the quickly dispersing crowd, it was all over and both guards were down. She snarled quietly and stepped forward to catch up with Laertes, then paused when she spotted a familiar fluffy yellow and black tail sticking out of the shattered shop window.
The first thing Keaton knew was when someone — someone she couldn't see — grabbed her tail and pulled her back out through the window. Her eyes filled with a flickering iridescent glow for a moment, then she could see Kerya standing beside her, holding a finger to her muzzle in a shushing gesture. "I have made us invisible," the little stoat whispered urgently, "And Laertes seems to be unable to pierce my spell. He went this way — be careful, he or that wolf with him have already killed two guards."
Cog managed to keep himself from grimacing. His eyes, still yellow, flashed with hatred behind his shades at the object of his ire standing so close, but...the odds were clearly against him.
An old practice form designed for closing distance came to mind. The form itself was adaptable to any distance, but in formal training, the distance was limited to only so far. The reasoning behind the short distance was that any farther, and one could simply run away.
Ace, Laertes, and Carey were still far away. In an open space, he was sure he could defeat Ace, and he'd be glad to die trying to kill the Jackal, but both at the same time, in a crowded street...
The wolf stood still, staring at Ace. A pedestrian obscured his form - but when he passed, the man was gone.
In the alleyway that was just beside him, again a wolf, Cog jumped onto a dumpster and then onto the fire escape walkway of a nearby building, catching himself on the lowest ladder before clambering up and making his way up the side of the building. He might be able to lose them on the rooftops, if they managed to find him in this alley again at all.
With her team mates disappearing and the opposition wisely moving away after their homicidal display Mel thought that perhaps some cleanup was needed. Moving quickly she crossed to the ruined doorway of the shop. "Don't shoot. I am a healer. Does anyone in here need help?"
She took another step in and looked around at the jumbled mess of tipped shelves and their contents. "Is anyone here?" she repeated as she sent out her magic, "feeling" for anything that felt of her team mates. She identified a small piece of paper still on the counter and a coin on the floor as having been left behind by Cog. They disappeared from the scene as she moved towards the back where she could hear excited voices.
It was with a snarl that Ace saw Cog vanish once again. He'd had to have moved laterally to disappear like that. She needed to get to his point of exit and... She didn't know. But she had taken personal offense when he had attacked her like that, and she was not about to leave him be. Carey and Laertes were more than capable of getting hold of the baboon and working from there.
Sprinting forward and throwing another few people aside, the wolf looked down into the lower street to no avail, then toward the nearest alley, the other most probable way of departure for Cog, and caught sight of him just as he scaled the last steps on the fire escape. Thoughtlessly, she threw herself after him, snarling. Her first leap and bound off the wall brought her to the lowest rungs of the retractable ladder. And immediately, her thoughtlessness cost her. With a snap and a screeching sound of painted metal and slightly rusted screws and rivets grinding against each other, she brought the whole ladder down with her weight, crashing into the lid of the dumpster and buckling it.
The chase was not over though. Even as the wolfess snarled and banged a fist that left a deep dent in the metal of the dumpster, a brown and blue-dressed figure sailed overhead, and caught the underside of the fire escape, pulling himself up. Scaling with dexterity that while somewhat hindered was still unexpected from webbed digits, Carey pulled his concealed shuriken-like ring of blades out, and rushing upwards.
Far behind, Laertes glared, grinding his teeth, and then turned toward Richard. Walking briskly toward the undead, feeling magic fizzing in the air from some unidentifiable direction, his face was hard as stone. He would watch what the fool did, and if nothing came of that, at least he had a prize laying waiting back there for him. Two or three minutes was plenty of time, with so little ground to cover...
The sound of crashing metal made the wolf look down sharply, and Cog swore under his breath. He'd hoped it would take them longer than this, but with Ace having chasing him, he might be doing better than he thought. The otter whirling the corner moments later, however, and with a grand leap jumping up to the fire escape and pulling himself up made the wolf curse again. His mind raced as his feet rushed forward, scaling the steps three at a time.
The feeling of the iron underneath his hands gave him an idea. He licked one finger, and letting go of the railings, mumbled mystic cadences, fighting to control his breath as he spoke the words to a spell. His legs burned deeply, but the wolf kept up the pace until he reached the roof and managed to step over the edge.
Cog licked the finger again, paused, leaned, felt his back pop, and whispering gathered power to his right hand. The fingertip tingled, and with a brief fizzing sensation of boiling spittle, launched a sparking, cotton-candy looking cloud that floated delicately towards the metal pipe and jumped straight into it, making the whole thing crackle white with electricity while Cog turned and with heavy breath began again to run.
...Keaton:
Just as Keaton was about to leap inside of the now-devastated store, possibly in an ill-conceived attempt to intervene in the battle raging inside, she felt something small and furry wrap around her tail, and this phenomenon made her pause in abrupt confusion. Even in Keaton's state of heightened anxiety, the possibility of this occurrence being the handiwork of one of her antagonists did not occur to her. At least, not until Kerya pulled, and Keaton felt the detritus beneath her feet crumble and slip as she tumbled along with her unseen assailant. Resisting the immediate instinct to yell, Keaton spun around, panicked, only to come face-to-face with Kerya, who was encouraging her not to make any sound.
Keaton acquiescently clamped her mouth shut, and remained uncharacteristically silent, understanding her intentions. When Kerya concluded her explanation, Keaton let out a muffled grunt and nodded her head. The concept of being invisible was still a strange one to her, but it certainly wasn't enough to deter her. Clutching Catastrophe a little tighter, Keaton nodded hastily to Kerya, and whispered in return, "Right. So we gang up on him and take him down?" Not once did Keaton stop to consider how impossible that task might be.
There was nothing to impede Cog's magic. Not yet. There was a dry, menacing crackle as the electrical charge was unleashed, and the otter down the ladder looked up with wide eyes. He stumbled on a step and cursed hard, bruising himself even more, his focus faltering for a moment as he prepared a spell to shield himself. His slick, short fur began to stand and fizz, right before a blue, nearly liquid shield enveloped him, rippling and seething and sparking as the wolf's spell shot into it. It did not block all of the magic; Carey shook and tensed as he felt pain surge through his body, and he gritted his teeth hard. Yet the protection was adequate. And while he felt stiff and painful getting up again, rage drove him to sprint on. Coming up the stairs, he saw the wolf a good bit ahead, and with an expression of fury he ran after him, tensing the grip on his large windmill blade. If he could get a good throw in, or the space for a spell...
- -
Kicking the side out of the container down below, Ace emerged in a shower of paper scraps and plastic, and the odd other detrius that would leave a stain. Growling, she tumbled up on her legs, and still shaking bits of styrofoam and old shredded papers and cardboard out of her clothes, she began to run, looking up toward the rooftops. The streets were beginning to clear, the natural instinct of not wanting to get held up or caught in any situation, whether real or perceived, taking hold. And in front of her, she noted, slowing down and hugging the wall next to her, brushing herself off and trying to look as inconspicuous as she could in her disheveled state, a patrol of five officers came into view, jogging down the street and scattering the crowd.
- -
The badger had no idea what was going on. Nor did she know what had caused this sort of commotion. She was used to the men in the shop next to hers making a ruckus; her neighbors seemed an odd sort, and she had not taken the opportunity to learn more about them even in the three years they had stayed next to her. Yet the buildings were separate, unlike many in Jann's Cliff, and they mostly never kept on with their shenanigans past six in the afternoons, or seemed anything but helpful. Now though, it seemed as if something had gone wrong. And, concerned with her own property, she had gone out into the street to check. Now, she was staring at the shards of glass strewn all over the walkway. And, more shockingly, at the two dead bodies. City guards. Policemen.
For a moment, everything phased out. She could only recall a couple of large accidents happening ever since she had set up shop in that trading city. There had been a fire down the block that had claimed two lives and ruined a couple of buildings, but which had been staved off. The mostly stone-based architecture of the Cliff helped keep things like that in check. The other had been a couple of gasol tubes going off in that shop next to hers. Dull thumps through the ground. It had barely been anything beyond the ordinary. Jann's Cliff was not usually the most crazy of cities. Sure, it was rough, but safe for the small-business people. That's why she'd come here, instead of Calim...
She wasn't even aware that she'd steadied herself against the corner of the building before she was leaning on it, the near-smooth edge of beige-yellow with hints of mortar and stone showing through the plaster rather uncomfortable against her back. She had never seen a dead body before. Were they dead? Could she be sure? They seemed... whole. But one had so much blood around him, and the other one's head was... She knew that these things happened. It was the way of the world. At least, some of it. She was glad she hadn't had to bear watching it happen though. She had a strong stomach, but she did not think that having to watch something like that could be pleasant. She looked around, watching the people passing staring at the scene. Had they seen? Were the people responsible for that still around? Worriedly, she cast a glance down the alley. But seeing nothing move, she turned back quickly, and made to walk inside again. Someone should alert the police, if they had not...
The badger froze on the spot, the image of the alley behind her suddenly flashing before her vision again. She swallowed, then turned, slowly, and began looking up along the stone pavement. Her eyes drifted over a polished shoe, a pair of pressed pants, a coat strewn over stone and asphalt, and wooden splinters. And the image that made her stomach turn.
She screamed, hoarsely, her voice catching at one point, and then, feeling bile in the back of her throat, she rushed back into her store.
...Deirdre:
When the siege started, Deirdre had decided to take cover. In spite of the fact she would have, technically, been actively provoked by the indiscriminate firing, she wasn't too keen on incriminating herself by fighting the local law enforcement. Running straight into the middle of the blitzkrieg in search of the actual villains wasn't a very smart idea, either. Gritting her beak together, Deirdre leaped for a nearby dumpster and concealed herself behind its metallic surface, steadfastly ignoring the putrid array of acrid stenches the dumpster was issuing. Clamping her hand over the nostrils of her beak, she remained hidden in the alleyway, simmering in the indignity of her impromptu hiding place. As long as she was kept unscathed, she didn't have any right to complain, but she truly wished there were more sanitary options.
Whenever Deirdre dared to peek from behind the dumpster, she didn't see anyone familiar from the club amidst the siege, or any suspicious figures. Then again, that term was fairly hypocritical, considering her group was most assuredly comprised of suspicious people. Deirdre tucked herself back against the wall and clutched her sword closer, toying with the hilt to alleviate some of her anxiety.
Suddenly, an ear-piercing screech rang out far down the alleyway. Deirdre nearly injured herself when her thumb slipped, nearly nicking her skin against the edge of her partially-unsheathed sword. As a swordswoman, she conceded she should have been more responsible with her blade, but goddamn she was embarrassed. Stumbling out from her hiding spot, not bothering to dust herself off, nurse her cut thumb, or correct her very disorganized hair, Deirdre charged down the alleyway. She swept her sword from its scabbard. Up ahead she saw a blurry shape she thought was a person dash away from another, darker smudge lying on the ground. At first, Deirdre suspected murder, but if that shape was the one who screamed, then that wouldn't make any sense. As she approached, she could smell something acrid, and hear a faint sizzling.
The shape had retreated back in her house. Deirdre couldn't go in to investigate, but instead decided to focus on the body on the ground. She couldn't see the extent of its injuries, but she recognized the well-pressed suit once she got close enough. She panicked. "SHIT!" Deirdre dropped to her knees, laid her sword nearby, and grabbed the body's shoulders without thinking, hoping to resuscitate him. By all logic, Deirdre didn't owe her captors anything for dragging her into this mess, but she didn't want any of them dead! "Are you okay!? A-"
With Deirdre's eyesight, she couldn't properly assess the look on the body's face. He looked very gray and pasty; so she assumed he was suffocating or had already died. In the interest of examining his injuries, Deirdre leaned in, squinting her eyes -
- and promptly choked, releasing the bat's shoulders from her talons. He flopped in a dead way against the asphalt, his head rolling to the side. A wet sound clicked in his dislocated neck, like torn muscle coming apart. Deirdre tried to move back, tried to look away, but she couldn't stop staring. The bat's face was mostly gone, some of the skin obliterated, peeled and seared off in enormous, black-ringed craters. Strips and bits of scorched flesh, like slices of barbecued beef marinated in crude oil, clung to the grayish, darkened and singed bone. Tangled ringlet-tendrils of white-blond hair were singed and stank of burned hair, framing his mutilated features like an ugly wreath of blackened fur, hair, and peeled, charred skin. The bone was gray and polished, his disproportionate jaw, adorned with tattered flesh, hanging agape to reveal his serrated teeth, and...
His eye sockets were vacant and smoking, as though their former occupants had been reduced to smoldering detritus. The sizzling noise and that hideous smell was emitting from his blood on the pavement.
Deirdre did not react. She just stared in what seemed like hopeless, delayed silence. Her mind was just filled with white dust, buzzing endlessly, until something in her brain clicked.
Everything was going to hell, really fast.
Richard was still trying to get his bearings in the crowd's panic, an objective that was getting tougher by the second. Crowd! Shouting! Cops? Mustalid smell...? What-?
"Baboon!" Wait, I know that voice. the undead cast around in a panic for its source and, in the parting crowd, saw Laertes.
"... Oh. Fuck. Me." He took two steps back from the jackal, casting about for anything he could do. Mel had suggested leaving earlier, he remembered. That was looking pretty good right about now. Something nudged him in the side and his hand flew to a pocket that he'd been CERTAIN had been empty...
No time to ponder that. Continuing a litany of curses that could blister paint Richard sent a freeze spell skittering along the ground toward the jackal and making a break for the nearest building he could shelter in from the inevitable explosion of fury. The 'kick 'em inna bollocks and run like hell' strategy had yet to steer him wrong, right?
Before Mel could get to the back room she heard voices, angry shouting voices. Shouting too loud to hear her in the front. These people were too emotional for her to manipulate into misremembering which red clad canine had visited the shop. As she retraced her steps to the doorway she cast a quick spell to destroy any magical traces. The mess outside ought to be sufficient to focus the investigators on Laertes and company. When she reached the doorway she saw that the jackal had not left after all and was focusing on Richard. Caught by surprise the best she could offer was a boost to his freeze spell. An ice dragon boost.
Unfortunately, against an enemy like Laertes an ice spell of Richard's capability was merely an obstacle. Not to mention the jackal was prepared. Or, at least, that's what he thought. He considered a blast of heat and light for an instant to smash the other spell away, but the resulting explosion might very well injure more people than a simple deflect might. So instead, he stopped into an almost bracing stance with his elbow out, and a golden shield of light burst out in front of him. The ice spell smashed into it.
Unfortunately for Laertes, the unexpected power of the spell was more than enough to overcome that line of defense, and he only had a glimpse of a second to react to the flash freezing. His face locked in a surprised and unwittingly comical expression, right before a veritable cliff of frosty crystal erupted out in a large cone from the point of impact with his shield and beyond. Of the jackal's stiffened form, only a minor shadow could be seen within the glacier that had now overtaken the street and the side of a building, not to mention three more bystanders. Screaming from the street below revealed that someone had tumbled over the railing along the side of the upper walkway, and on the far side of the cone of frost two people were screaming, one bleeding with an icicle through his arm and the other cut deeply and with her leg stuck in the ice.
Down the street, the officers all stopped, nearly in synchronization. Then, one of them slowly raised a radio to his mouth, and spoke something. They were going to need a lot more than they currently had.
- -
A couple of seconds passed, and there was a loud crackling sound in the alley just behind her that distracted Deirdre away from the corpse before her. The acrid smell was in her nose, and for a moment, the sound of screaming people drew her attention. Enough that she had no warning.
Suddenly, with a jerk, the gryphon's arm was seized by a clutching, clawed hand, strong and hard as stone. And with an impossible, wide-jawed and horrifying screech, the 'corpse' of the bat nearly shot up from the ground, his twisted voice half roaring and half snarling nearly unintelligible words in some language that sounded as frightening as his mutilated face. Tendons and seared flesh stretching, wet and sizzling tendrils of blackness crawling around and inside his still empty eye sockets, the bat seized Deirdre by the neck as he screamed and shook, teeth as long as her fingers just an inch from her face. His other hand was thrashing and groping about, and he moved with blind, furious disorientation. After a couple of screams and a few seconds, at last the gryphon thought she could make something out.
'
OHSHHRRGHELLDAMNYUFUCKINGIDIOOOOAAARRRRGH!' Stygian roared. At least, that was the closest approximation Deirdre could make at the time. Not that she was not quite busy with trying futilely to pry the bat's hand off her neck, as he was starting to both lift and choke her somewhat.
Mel stared in surprise at the mess Laertes had made. The bugger must have been trying to do something showy that interacted with her booster to Richard's spell. She had only boosted it to the level required to freeze and paralyze his muscles until the police arrived. While anyone who tried to show off in crowded street deserved what he got the innocent bystanders certainly didn't.
One short teleport took her to the rooftop to survey the damage. She snorted, someone was overcompensating for something. She bet he had his shield set up to flare in a dramatic light show when hit and when it tried to grab the spell and convert it to light had found itself overwhelmed and his entire shield had fed the spell instead. Still, it showed he was powerful, if his shield was strong enough to throw this much power into Richard's spell via her booster. Luckily the undead had chosen a freeze spell and it wouldn't take her long to remove the near-glacier, leaving just a glittering ice statue in the middle of the street.
Kerya's ears perked forward as she nodded to Keaton. "If there is anything we can do," she whispered. "I saw Laertes' face as he passed by, he means some gory mischief to as many of us as he can put claw to." She crept stealthily along the street at the jackal's side, placing her paws on the ground as gently and silently as she could, keeping what she hoped was a safe distance from Laertes. At least her masking spell appeared to be working properly: Keaton hadn't sensed her presence until she was brought inside the spell's effect, and Laertes didn't seem to have detected her use of magic. She looked ahead to see what — or who — had caught his attention.
"It's Richard!" she hissed urgently into Keaton's ear, "Look ahead, Laertes is stalking Richard!" The little stoat drew some power from her staff and quickly began to mould it into a sequence of spells. An illusion or two first, to distract Laertes from looking for her second spell, the true attack. The lightning bolt last night had done him little harm, so... perhaps Keaton could put a dent in his skull with that great mace of hers? A Web of Restraining, then, to make him hold still for the jackal's gentle attentions.
Kerya was almost finished with her preparations, the fingers of her free hand scribing hasty sigils in the air, when Richard caught sight of Laertes, launched a minor ice spell at him, and ran for the cover of an open doorway. Just then, Mel came out of the wrecked shop and did something to enhance the baboon's spell. Laertes met the attack with a shield of golden light, but at the point of contact the spell erupted into a massive wall of ice, spreading out across the street.
Kerya chittered in alarm and shouted a warning to Keaton. There was no time to dodge or run out of the way. She aborted her half-cast spells and used the power to throw up a hasty shield, reinforcing it on the outside with a heat spell powerful enough to run a blacksmith's forge all day. She braced herself for the impact as the ice swallowed up Laertes and loomed up, closer and higher...
WHAM!
Both women were tossed like leaves in a gale as the edge of the ice slammed into Kerya's shield. It held, although its surface rippled and shimmered with rainbow light, so Keaton and Kerya were only shaken up, instead of smashing heads-first into a solid brick wall on the other side of the street.
"Ow... not quite what I had intended... Keaton, are you all right?" Kerya asked. Her head was still spinning, but she scrambled upright, clinging to the wall, as quickly as she could. And stood there for a moment, eyes wide with surprise, staring at the great mass of ice filling the street. She was just about to turn to speak to Keaton again when a throat-tearing shriek of rage and agony came from a nearby alley, drowning out the mere screams of the injured passers-by caught up in the catastrophe. The little stoat grabbed Keaton's arm — she might be badly burned if she fell out of the shield, the outside surface was probably still very hot — and ran to investigate, pulling the jackal along behind her.
The wolf's quick ears caught the sound of Carey continuing up the metal pathway - Cog made a face, and continued on, about at the edge of the building before Carey managed to get onto the roof. The wolf reached the end of the concrete roof and stopped, the wind tugging at his clothing - and paused. He had caught sight of something in the mess of rooftops and streets out there. Carey saw him wave at something quickly, before the wolf turned, looking at the otter dead center as he ran at him.
Cogidubnus smiled, gave a two-fingered salute off the edge of his hat, and quite deliberately fell backwards off the roof and out of sight.
Mel wasn't quite finished removing all the ice when she spotted something on the roof opposite. Cog waved to her then jumped off the roof. Forgetting the almost cleaned up scene below she rapidly shifted her spell casting to a different sort of thing entirely. A soft popping sound was the only reminder that anyone had ever been there.
"You have great faith in my abilities, I see," commented the grey-clad feline as she looked at the menu at small table at the outdoor café just down the street from where the cops were now swarming. She set the menu down and smiled at the rather disarranged wolf sitting opposite her.
Outstanding. JUST outstanding.
Aisha had kept her eyes closed and her body, along with the things she brought (first aid kits and supplies still untouched) in the cranny in front of the store's doorway, alongside Gareeku...the wolf and panthress were perhaps the only ones left standing aside in the chaos...the others having left no clues. She had her sunglasses idly twitching in the fingers of one hand. The other was rubbing the bridge of her nose as she tried to wait all of it out.
She could catch many a thing with her clear hearing, much of it loud and disastrous, but nothing she hadn't heard before. Screaming from the surprised and scared occupants...shouts of authority from the throng of cops that were rushing across to the store above where it all started...blasts of magic and more screaming...
Clearly, this was something that didn't have waiting it out as an option.
When a scream from nearby had Dierdre scrambling out into the crowd in investigation, nearby across the store in an alley, that was the final straw. Aisha didn't care whether or not she would be associated with trouble, so long as everyone was out of there, and all of the stupid people accounted for and given a good chastising.
As far as she knew, everyone was apart but herself and the wolf. "Damn it all, that's it," Aisha growled and grabbed the handle of her boomerang from the pile of stuff behind her. She figured that they would be safe hidden in the shadows there until she returned; and she would.
Suddenly, there were shadows above...all around, there was a rooftop chase that seemed to be going on. Aisha couldn't get a good look at who was chasing who, but she did catch a glimpse of a few familiar colors. Cogidubnus, perhaps, pursued by others. Mel, Kerya, Ignatz, Richard...all nowhere to be seen.
That was one way to go...but there was also where the crowd was surging away...and where a lot more authorities seemed to be rushing to. And finally, there was the different direction that Dierdre had gone.
"Mierda, mierdaaaaaa..." The feline growled in frustration, looking around. She wanted to get the ones responsible, who were still somewhere...but perhaps the main priority was finding their party members. That was a good idea to have more numbers should they run into what surely had to be more antagonists.
Aisha put her glasses back on and turned back to Gareeku, ready to bolt at a moment's notice, but still having the urge to wait. She didn't want to be any more separated than they were, and woe betide if anything happened to him...
"Well, forget about getting to the trouble, mi amigo...think we should find everyone and get the hell out of here? Might have to fight our way out too."
...Keaton:Kerya's warning didn't quite register in Keaton's mind when she first heard it. Over the rapid beating of her heart thrumming in her ears, Keaton mistook her shouting for just another voice screaming in the background. Presumably there were some casualties elsewhere in the city, which profoundly bothered and agitated Keaton. She assumed this was they were not supposed to attract attention, especially not on
this magnitude - in a matter of seconds, as Keaton ruminated on her situation, she was cursing fitfully, and -
Oh, shit. Kerya
had shouted something. Almost immediately, Keaton skidded to a halt, trying to keep herself from running ahead of Kerya's shield. Fortunately, she stopped just in time, but was not prepared for the impact of the approaching spell. While the shield endured the blast, the resulting quake knocked Keaton off her feet and sent her sprawling in a painful position across the asphalt, her head spinning and whirring. At first, when Keaton's knee grazed the pavement, she surmised that she felt something torn there - one look over the graphically-imagined wound actually confirmed that the injury was just superficial. No more than a scrape a careless child would sustain. However, her head still hurt and she was in a slight bit of disbelief over what had happened, although she was grateful she hadn't hit her head on something.
Keaton sat upright. Something crunched underneath her; she realized it was a garbage can. She landed right on top of it. "Owowowow..." she mumbled, holding her face, then answered somewhat shakily. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. I'm - ow. Yeah, fine. Are - hey!"
Now there was more screaming, this time nearly incomprehensible in its message, emanating from far away. Keaton turned her head in its direction, blanching - that was
not the sound a normal person would make when hurt! It was inhuman! When Kerya grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet, she blindly obeyed, trailing behind and moving along with the stoat. She was completely ignorant about any potential fate or grotesque sight that awaited.
---
...Deirdre:After years of Adventuring, Deirdre had learned not to take threats to her life lying down. When Stygian hefted her into the air, there was only a momentary delay as she frantically perused her options, flailing and thrashing mindlessly in Stygian's grip, until she stopped abruptly altogether and looked at him like an agitated cat. Her fur bristled, her pupils pinpricked, and her ears laid flat against her head, her face fixated into an expression of pure terror, even as she prepared herself. Her sword! Why did her sword have to be so far away?! She couldn't stand a chance against Stygian in unarmed combat, but she didn't want to die. Not so soon.
Screaming and snarling, Deirdre clawed and slashed at Stygian's arms with her talons, raking her nails across his flesh. When she realized her flailing wasn't working, she blindly pulled her hand back and slashed him across the face in a movement quite akin to a slap, deliberately aiming to strike him across his mutilated face with her claws. Unarmed combat was not Deirdre's specialty, but she still had some equipment to, at least, distract her opponent until she could escape. As long as Stygian loosened his grip, she could take advantage of his pain and flee.
If all else failed... Deirdre was not above kicking him in the groin, even at risk of infuriating her assailant.
Yet, if Deirdre had expected that maneuver to wound the bat much further, she would have to reconsider her approach. Stygian's flesh was already starting to squirm and seethe and writhe, forcing itself together with eye-torturing, disgusting movements. Her claws scraped bone and made scratches into flesh that immediately began to sizzle back. Yet, it seemed that her struggling amounted to something at least. The bat froze in place, and his snarling, even his breathing seemed to stop, as his grip lost its squeezing hardness, yet remained in place. His distorted features seemed to stare at her even more intensely for a few seconds, before he released her abruptly, her bottom hitting the pavement hard.
'I... need...' the bat began, head bobbing back and forth in place, his empty eye sockets searching futilely. He touched his absent face with a hand, and growled. 'Need... I... face... feels...'
Suddenly, his ears, one of them singed down halfway, twitched, and he turned approximately in the direction of the corner to the alley, his face still a grinning, horribly toothy skull with little worm-like tendrils of black crawling all over it as he began getting to his feet.
Kerya came running into the street end of the alley, her staff held firmly in one hand, the other towing a still somewhat dazed and shaken-up Keaton. They were still invisible, so all that could be heard were their footsteps. She came to an abrupt halt when she caught sight of the two figures crouching in the shadows. She let go of the jackal and clutched her staff in both hands in a defensive posture. Going from the full daylight on the street to the dim light at the end of the alley, it took a moment for her to recognise Dierdre sitting sprawled on the ground, staring in shock at...
"Sebastian...? Oh, fewmets, your face...!" The little stoat flinched, then dismissed the invisibility and shield spells with a quick gesture. A glowing sphere of iridescent light flared, lighting up the alley for a moment, then it faded, leaving Keaton and Kerya visible again, standing a few yards behind Dierdre.
Kerya took a hesitant step forward, her eyes wide and her ears folded flat. "Sebastian, can you...? does it...? are you... ah... alive?"
...Deirdre and Keaton:
Deirdre collapsed to the ground in a feathery, winged lump, largely unresponsive, at first, as though all her struggling and thrashing had diminished her seemingly unlimited stamina. This was indeed the case - Deirdre had learned that spontaneously acting on her impulses wasn't very helpful, since exhausting herself when her oxygen was fairly limited was a very good way to drain her lungs of any breath. The Gryphon laid there for a moment, disoriented, and when the world stopped spinning she immediately sat upright and started assessing her body for any damage. Her face was contorted in an expression of pure panic, and she was quite bedraggled at this point, with her hair disheveled and her suit lopsided and dusty and faintly malodorous from her early sanctuary behind the dumpster. Fortunately, though, she wasn't hurt aside from a slight aching in her throat, and she had fallen just beside her sword, which she snatched up greedily and prepared in case Stygian continued his assault. In another stroke of fortune, he seemed more preoccupied with stumbling about and groping at his maimed, mostly-skinless features.
Deirdre indignantly toyed with the idea of stabbing Stygian in the back for attacking her. Since the asshole seemed nearly invincible anyway, she assumed a sword through the ribcage wouldn't cause any lasting damage, anyway. However, the Gryphon didn't want to risk provoking him again, and simply breathed hard, massaging her throat, reveling in the feeling of her lungs safely inflating, deflating, and carrying oxygen through her body unimpeded. Her talons were smeared with blood from scratching mindlessly at Stygian's arm, which she, numbly, did not realize.
There was a loud cry off to the side. Deirdre felt her pupils pinpricked as she glanced in that direction; standing in the alleyway entrance was a familiar yellow-black blob and a shorter, chocolaty smear who was speaking in a very easily identifiable voice. Deirdre's mind reeled; they weren't there before. Self-consciously, Deirdre glanced down at her talons, noticing the dark color staining the nails, and quickly removed the virulent substance by wiping her hands off on her jacket.
"Holy shit, Sebastian!" Keaton exclaimed, clamping her hands over her mouth at Stygian's mutilated appearance. She resisted the urge to run over and examine his injuries more closely, since she didn't want to do anything that would be perceived as stupid. She assumed that Kerya was the more experienced person in healing magic, anyway. Her own abilities in that domain were limited. Keaton remained where she was, her eyes dancing over Stygian's form. "Are you okay? What happened?! Are--"
Keaton finally noticed Deirdre sitting on the ground and blinked. "What happened to you?" she asked.
Deirdre had finally cleaned her talons. She glared at Keaton and gestured, perhaps far more venomously than she intended, toward Stygian. "Ask him!" she retorted. She sounded far too disdainful, but she wasn't exactly happy at the moment.
The bat didn't answer. He didn't even seem to notice the three women whatsoever anymore. Shuddering, he clasped a hand over his skull. Reaching, groping for something, he began focusing, forcibly pushing himself to heal. The tendrils and crawling flesh began knitting together.
'Ffffaaaaaaaceee...' he growled, scraping forward in Kerya's direction, past Deirdre, before finally managing to get to his feet. He didn't look too much better. Stretched, squirming skin still made his features a grimacing, needle-toothed mask. And though he seemed to be healing very rapidly, his voice was still a scraping, gravelly, sick thing as he spoke.
'I need... something to cover... my...' he rattled, then took a tentative step. His still somewhat hollow, black sockets searched around hopelessly. 'I can't see. Someone's going to have to... help me out here.'
...Keaton:
For a moment, Keaton seemed to be deeply disturbed by Stygian's predicament as she watched him blindly grope and stumble about. Looking at his vacant eye sockets made her feel sickened - watching his skin gradually regenerate over the naked parts of his exposed skull didn't help her revulsion, or the way she was affected on a more profound level than sheer lurid shock. After a few seconds of silent, speculative thought, Keaton sighed and lifted the stylized, white-patterned shirt she wore over her top over her head, wringing it in her grip. Shredding the edge around the bottom of the shawl, she tore away a sizable band of fabric and approached Stygian, urging him to lean down. Once she got the bat to cooperate, she folded the strip into a clean, thick rectangle and draped it before his eye sockets, binding it behind his head like a makeshift blindfold.
Keaton sighed and patted Stygian on the back, tucking the remains of her shredded shirt under her arm. "There. You owe me a new shirt after this, Styg," Keaton mumbled. Actually, she could easily duplicate the shirt through metamorphosis, since she was fairly skilled at creating clothing, but she wanted to throw that in to hopefully lighten the mood. "Is that okay?"
Kerya shivered for a moment, her hackles almost managing to rise even with the weight of her new shirt and cloak on her shoulders. Sebastian hadn't actually answered her question, leaving her more than a little uneasy. All right, so the bat was moving about and speaking, although with difficulty, but she knew from painful experience, that was no guarantee the answer to her question would have been "yes".
She skittered to the side when Sebastian lumbered forward. Just in case. As if that wasn't enough, the ruins of his face began to flow back together, black tendrils of something she devoutly hoped was flesh wriggling over the bat's exposed skull. Her stomach lurched, and she came within a whisker's breadth of bringing up her breakfast all over Dierdre.
The little stoat took a deep breath and firmly told her rebellious stomach to behave. While Keaton tended to Sebastian, she knelt at Dierdre's side and put a hand on the agitated Gryphon's shoulder. "Are you all right, Dierdre?" she asked. "There have been some... ah... rather messy and noisy developments out on the street, but Keaton and I still heard that terrific caterwaul. Laertes is here — Mel and Richard have him somewhat discomfited, I think he shall not harry us for a little while. But it seems he attacked Sebastian first..." Kerya's rapid-fire remarks petered out as her glance drifted back to the injured bat.
"Well, featherfall isn't that hard of a spell. I probably could have pulled it off before I hit the ground." Cog lied. He winked at the leopard. "The swift rescue is much appreciated, though."
He turned. "Excuse me!" he said, motioning to one of the passing waitresses. "Could I get a coffee, please?"
He paused, looking at Mel. "We can wait a few minutes, right?"
If the bat noticed Kerya looking at him, which was unlikely at the moment, he was not showing it. Rather, he seemed to be collecting and trying to orientate himself. His right hand, hanging at his side, trembled somewhat.
'We need to get out of here', he said, after a while. His voice was slowly returning to normality, but it was not quite back. There was still a slithering rasp right to the edges of it. 'I'm somewhat... disorientated here. So if someone could assist me?' Putting a significant amount of meaning into the movement, he raised his still somewhat shaky right hand.
- -
Carey hadn't noticed the sudden disappearing trick that Cog had pulled off - or rather, which had been pulled off
with him - while mid-air. Standing looking over the edge, off the roof, his gaze flickered back and forth and while tense and looking ready to spring at anything and any point, he had not a clue as to where to go. Luckily for him though, someone else
had noticed.
'Get down from there! He warped off!' Ace shouted up at the otter, before returning to sweeping her irate yellow gaze over the street, searching for signs of whoever it might have been that had transported the wolf. Because it did not look as if he had done it himself.
The air was clearing, as if some large hand had suddenly come in and swept away most of the flying vessels and creatures like flies, or as if a c-type Gryphon had just shown up. And it was not hard to realize what this meant. Heavy patrols were not far away. Aggravatedly, Ace stared down toward the ruined shop, and the now mostly cleared street. And the rather sudden block of glacial ice in it. There was no going back down the street, so with snapping steps she turned in place, and started back up the street. She just might be able to catch someone before they were at the station again. And if not, she would simply have to do what she could to get Laertes out. She didn't like it, but he was much too valuable an asset to lose...
Up top, Carey grimaced and looked down at the street and the wolf rushing off. He could probably land that jump with a bit of skill, but from his vantage point and what he saw of the situation, he got this strange feeling. And it was not just the fact that if the wolf really had gone further in the same direction, he'd have lost the chase. It was gut instinct, and maybe a little bit of magic too. And after a while in his occupation, one learned to trust that.
The otter 'disappeared' his weapon and turned, rushing back over the roof in the exact opposite heading of the wolf.
"Please put it in a travel cup," Mel added for the waitress. Then to Cog she clarified, "We are still too close to the scene for my comfort." While they waited for the waitress to return with the coffee the dragon pulled a grey coat and hat from her pouch. She stared at them for a moment and they slowly turned from feminine to masculine attire. "You had better put these on. Finding your coat and hat in the gutter I am pretty sure that the police will be looking for someone wandering about in his shirtsleeves."
After the wolf took the offered garments Mel sort of looked up and down the street. "I put a piece of my jewelry on Kerya so I would be able to locate the group later but it seems to still be in the middle of the scene. I do not know if I hope she dropped it or not."