Northern Winds [NC-17] (IC)

[Gareeku]

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.

[Aisha deCabre]

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.

[Tezkat]

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.

[Stygian]

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.

[Boog]

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.

[SpottedKitty]

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?"

[Gareeku]

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..."

[Aisha deCabre]

"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 Dragonkitty]

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?"

[Cogidubnus]

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."

[Tezkat]

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.

[Gareeku]

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...

[Sunblink]

...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

[Aisha deCabre]

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.

[SpottedKitty]

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.

[Stygian]

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.

[Cogidubnus]

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...

[Stygian]

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.

[Boog]

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 Dragonkitty]

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]

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.

[Tezkat]

"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.

[Sunblink]

...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

[Cogidubnus]

 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.

[Stygian]

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.

[Aisha deCabre]

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.

[SpottedKitty]

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!"

[Stygian]

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.

[Boog]

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!"

[Sunblink]

...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