Northern Winds [NC-17] (IC)

[Aisha deCabre]

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."

[Cogidubnus]

 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?"

[SpottedKitty]

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.

[Stygian]

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?'

[Boog]

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?"

[Tezkat]

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.

[Sunblink]

...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

[Stygian]

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.

[Gareeku]

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 Dragonkitty]

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."

[Aisha deCabre]

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."

[Tezkat]

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."

[Gareeku]

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..."

[Boog]

"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 deCabre]

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."

[Cogidubnus]

"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."

[Tezkat]

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.

[Stygian]

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.

[Boog]

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...

[SpottedKitty]

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.

[Cogidubnus]

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.

[Sunblink]

...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

[Tezkat]

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."

[Stygian]

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.

[Boog]

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.

[SpottedKitty]

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 Dragonkitty]

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.

[Stygian]

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.

[Cogidubnus]

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...

[Boog]

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.