The First Age

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She found solace in the hunt. In formless instinct, free of thought and guilt and sadness. Jacinda’s face would haunt if she let it; the painful shifting of her scent in the moment Tenzin had fled. She’d never noticed signs; nothing she did not associate with the closeness of pack, anyway. Right now she could not think of it at all. The wolves beyond the city howled in her mind, but it was the darkness of the undercity where Tenzin ran, not at their sides. The animal urges burgeoned fierce, and though she needed an outlet she was wary too of that line where humanity became but a blurred memory. Red already spattered her throat. Teeth bared white. Her blood ran hot, but though the initial frenzy passed the emotion still sat high and unfathomable in her chest. She did not want to go home yet.

The stink of filth was strong, but did not distract from the stench of the prey she followed now. None of it smelled right. Her jaw flexed when the scent of human mingled, a moment before the echo of distant male voices. Tenzin rested on her haunches, ears perked to the unwelcomed complication. The urumi balanced between her knees now, pulled free from her waist, its curling blade yet clean -- for her first kill had been far more primal. She scowled, not listening to the words but the direction of travel. The foolishness did not please her. A scream followed. The pungent searing of burning flesh and hair that flared her nostrils.

She took off. The swift pad of her feet was silent. Oni were a job better suited to pack, and this one was not alone -- all stinking of disease that curled her lip with disgust. She would need the urumai for their numbers, and to keep distance from snapping jaws, yet the human males were a problem if they did not stay back from the fly of the wicked blade. She had a simple handled kathi knife tucked into a boot, but it would be useless against thick hide. If she could even get close without goring herself on the burning oni’s wide horns. And that wasn’t even considering the chupes.

A snarl announced her fall into the dance of kalaripayattu. The metal of the urumai sang as it smacked the stone floor with the first strike, a bone-curdling screech to cool the heart. A jet of blood erupted from the back of the first chupe, splitting a lesion open from neck through shoulder, then arced to slice half the face of the next to turn to the new predator amongst them.

[[Kalaripayattu is an Indian martial art that uses various weapons. The urumai looks somewhere between a whip and a sword. It probably lengthens out to the same height as she is. It is pretty lethal, as you can probably imagine, and great for multiple opponents. Try not to get decapitated.]]
Even the streets of Bronzeville couldn’t prepare Andre for the terror grippng the base of his spine. The dark howled ahead. Mik planted himself like a tree ready to catch the worst of the storm. He tried to copy the other man’s stance, but he would have felt more comfortable with a pistol. The Force sword flickered then dropped as hard as Luke’s rock tower on Dagobah. The loss of light was a terrible blow. He backed away a few steps, eyes flaring black circles in the dark.

Then there was a snarl. The slap and clang of metal. Blood lust and screams of pain. Andre shivered, stumbling backward. He landed on his ass, hard and scooted away from the melee.
So Mik laughed with glee. Now this was what he was talking about! This was why he lived. Gorgeous man candy next to him, fucking zombie monster whatevers, and a fight to the death...and he just went into the zone. Dom space and all that. It was like the weaves of fire formed almost as if they had a mind of their own. A light sweat had appeared and he was breathing a bit hard. You know, like you do when fighting or going to town on someone. Like it was work, but fucking yeah, it felt good!

And then a new hot little piece of ass shows up, spinning around doing her jui jitsu or karate or whatever you wanted to call it. Fucking A, she was tight, that sword whip thing flying about. He ducked quickly, barely missing being ripped apart by one of the massive claws of that big leather thing. Yeah, stop staring at her ass, fuck face! He mentally nodded regretfully as he put that luscious peach out of his mind, spinning around as a lance of fire and air formed at his moving hand, slamming through the back of the things neck. Too bad it was so fucking loud. He had wanted to hear the sizzle. Cool thing about these weaves was that they melted in his hands. The thing jerked around but the action didn't thrown him off balance.

No sir, instead two more formed at each hand and he thrust out, laughing as they drove home through its chest. Finally, the thing fell forward, black inky blood pooling- well it looked black from the hanging lights he'd left. For a moment, he paused. The fuck? When had he done that? Well goddamn!...he had tied them off in some way and left them there. Very cool. 

He spun around to give the hottie a hand. Where the hell was Andre anyway? He looked and saw the dude. "Come on, bro. You gotta earn your keep. Especially if you want that kiss." And he spun away, trying to avoid the woman as fire darts fired from his hand.

As far as he was concerned, this night was golden. Now, all he needed was dessert. He checked her out again from the corner of his eye. Oh yeah. Way she moved too? Yeah, she'd probably be a beast in the sack too, especially if he worked her over good. Well, not sack exactly, That cross called to him, now that he had the idea. Her and Andre strung up, all glisteny with sweat and unable to move, their eyes looking at him with fear and want and pleasure? Fuck yeah...

He wasn't much for prayer. But he did hope the Lady was paying attention.
One of the males was clearly spirit-touched, but she could not spare it focus beyond consideration that, by his manic laughter, it might be necessary to put him down too, should he prove uncontrolled.

Foe fell quickly to the urumi, and faster still with the tongues of rippling fire she witnessed from the corner of her eye. Kalari was nature’s dance, and Tenzin was barely winded by the time her blade stopped singing, for it seemed whatever made the creatures smell bad also made them frenzied. When stillness descended but for the sound of breathing, she wrapped the spring sword back around her waist, snug against the protective leather circling there. The urumi was an easy weapon to hide. It would need cleaning, but for now she thought it best to make herself less fearsome, especially given the wide eyes of one of the males. She did not particularly wish them to consider her but another foul creature of this place.

For a moment her dark gaze found the fallen oni amongst the bloodied remains of the chupes, remarking quietly on the manner of its death. She had seen spirit-touched in Leh, but they were not taught to fight like that.

“Stupid,” she said to the two, then. “Bad place for date.”

The one who fell to his hind end reeked of fear, despite thick muscle. The undercity was a witless place to wander, though the cover of its darkness enticed many to the promise of its shadowy arms. She could think of more fragrant places for mating rituals, and neither had the look or smell of those forced to call such a den home. They were lost or foolish, or both. Dark eyes absorbing them now, nostrils flaring with their scent, she decided it was both. 

She offered a hand to the fallen male, aware he might not take it given her blood-soaked facade. Though she had just saved their lives. In any case it was meant as a conciliatory gesture, assurance that she intended them no harm, but she would not be offended if he reared away. They had seen how sharp her teeth were, and though they were not bared now, sometimes humans entirely missed such subtle communication.

“Won’t hurt. Not unless monster. Are you?” Her teeth showed a smile, brow raised in humour. Of course, Tenzin did not hunt such people unless she was given due reason, and self-defence was not one of them. Black eyes found the other, accusation plain, but not threat. She was not singed by the wielding of his power, and if the peal of his laughter had sounded odd amidst the jets of blood and severed limbs, she could hardly judge all things given. Besides, she smelled no threat; in fact, the strongest thing he smelled of was plain lust.
Andre found himself in the middle of a battle! But the real thing was nothing like the books. His heart beat so hard he thought he was going to have a heart attack. He was frozen in fear until someone literally shoved him out of the way. He thought it was a woman, but she striked with the speed of a cobra and the ferocity of a bear. Course Andre had never seen either, but he could imagine quite a lot. He’d never imagined this, though.

He scrambled out of the way. Something grabbed his leg. He screamed. Then the limb was severed to a screeching wail of pain. Andre frantically kicked the arm away, but it landed with a splash in the darkness. He threw his hands over his ears and waited for the worst.

Soon, the noise died, and Andre was afraid he was dead with it. Except, when he looked up, it was to find the offer of a bloody hand. He didn’t understand the question at first, but tenuously accepted the hand up.
Mik looked around, surveying the aftermath, lopsided grin on his face. Now that was what he was talking about! He held on to the power but let it drop to a trickle. Who knew if one of these fucking things decided to go full zombie after they'd put them down.

Speaking of which, he turned to Andre, on his ass but reaching for psycho chick's offered hand. He snorted. "Dude, you know I'm gonna bust on your ass for wussing out like that, right? And not in the way you like, either." He was mostly teasing. Not about the mocking. Nah, that was just required. You can't do that in front of the guys and not get ripped on for it. But no, he meant not still being down to party now that things has calmed down.

Which of course brought him to psycho chick. He checked her over now that he wasn't gonna get gutted for it. At least not by one of those creatures. The way she eyed him told him that he might still face that same fate, though. Which begged the question, where the fuck did she hide that sword thing anyway?

Ahh well, sex was always more fun if there was the possibility of getting stabbed anyway. And the Lady was still about. You never knew if you didn't play the game. He gave her a playful confident smile. "Name's Mik. And this lug of muscles is Andre." He looked back at the mess they'd made. "We were just out for a stroll and found some fun. Seems like you were too, doll, from looks of things." A raised eyebrow, a smirk and a pointed NOT looking at the bodies hopefully made his point. "Care to get a drink? I know I'm in the mood. And I'm sure Andre could use it..."

Toss the dice right?
The frightened male took the offered hand, and with a flex of her arm Tenzin helped yank him to his feet. He mostly just seemed stunned now. The other male spoke with so many idioms she was not sure she entirely followed, but she understood the mocking tone well enough. There was nothing brave in stupidity, nor in inciting the weak to recklessness. A pack knew its strengths, and it also knew how to protect those that needed protecting. “Better to hide than die. Just get in way otherwise,” she said bluntly. There was no shame in it. The pack survived best when everyone knew their part.

Her ears twitched to the introduction. Apparently Mik did not question either her capability or her unusual weaponry -- nor her motives. Her arms were covered, and beneath those dark sleeves the ouroboros was woven into a colourful tapestry not easily distinguished even to a knowing eye. The Athari covenant bid she kill this man for his nature alone, and even in Leh the spirit-touched were guided away from the sorts of powers she had already witnessed thrown about with abandon. Tenzin had no intentions to that end, but she was surprised he smelled nothing of fear or trepidation or even concern.

“Fun?” she repeated, surprised. She appeared to have taken it literally. “Not fun, just job. And lucky for you.” Compared to the subtleties of Jacinda’s heart in her hands, the scent of his arousal was pungent, and she did not think he much cared what he mounted. Of course, amidst the blood and sewer-smell it was probably the least offensive, but not by much. She grinned. “Stink like shit,” she said. “Not sure they let you in. If did, not sure want drinking there.”
Andre let himself be helped upward, but the contortion of his face said he wasn’t exactly accepting of the banter bullshit Mik flung about like – well – bullshit. “We almost died!” he said between his teeth. “The academy doesn’t exactly prepare you for zombies attacking you in the dark while standing on the precipice of a river of shit barely wide enough to stand up on.”

Nostrils flared, pupils black discs in the dark, Andre snarled, only to hide the motion of himself taking a whiff of his own arm. The stink wasn’t as bad as it was, but that only meant he was getting used to it. The dead bodies would make it worse in a few hours. It’s not like there were carrion birds coming to pick the meat clean. Unless something else lived down here. He shivered to imagine it.

He started to move, only to realize that everywhere he stepped was a slick sludge of zombie blood. They were all probably splattered with it. “If you can get us out of here, I’ll order room service and we can drink in my room. Looks like I won’t be going to the Kremlin today anyway. But I call dibs on the fucking shower,” he pointed at Mik. “Alone, Full Back!” he added, though something in his voice wasn’t committed to the bargain.
The one called Andre bristled. He was wrong, they had not nearly died, but she understood the sentiment even if she found it melodramatic. If this was Mik’s idea of aphrodisia, as did seem to be the case at least for his own arousal, then he had clearly misjudged his choice of companion. Though given the delicate flare of scent beneath all the blood and shit, perhaps not.

Lost?” she asked, tone coloured by a shade of disbelief. Her brows rose. She clearly found that quite stupid.

Oni and chupacabra were not normally compatriots, and they had smelled strange. Given both those things, and the way the creatures had seemed to work together, she was not keen to find herself ambushed by more whilst alongside two green pups who thought the underground was a fun place for a stroll.

Lost!

“Follow, follow. Can show way, since not lost.” She snorted laughter, and made a nimble path across the strewn meat. Her senses quested out in the dark, all of them sharp, all of them attuned to possible threat. It was quiet and still, but it was better to be away sooner than later. “Oh, and welcome also!” she threw over her shoulder.
((Just assume Andre follows you out.))
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