In the Heat of the...Tunnel?

[Drayson]

At Ivan's warning, Drayson signaled for the crew chief to hold back as he pressed forward. He hadn't drawn his weapon, and instead held both hands out to be clearly seen; one held the mostly empty bag, the other was entirely empty. First contact with squatters was always a dicey thing, but at least this time he had another cop at his back. Ivan was untested, but had proven reliable so far.

He could hear the faint scoffs and mutters of whoever was hiding near the fire; a woman, he suspected, although it could just as easily have been a femininely voiced man, he supposed. Probably the more likely option; women didn't usually travel alone down there. Wasn't safe.

He was suddenly confronted by the arrival of another man, staggering weak and confused out of a nearby door and a hallway beyond, and the out-cry of the hidden person ahead of him. A woman, he was sure of it now from her tone. And beyond, there were sounds of...something. Perhaps he had thought it a distant rumbling of a metro train passing by, but that was just his mind trying to trick him into blissful ignorance. No, that sound was much closer then he had attributed it.

Well, he had brought Ivan along to test the man. He would have preferred ghost stories and suspicions rather then something concrete; the task force wasn't ready for this sort of trouble, and Drayson would have preferred a shotgun, at the least. The bag was dropped; likely one of these two newly arrived squatters; the wounded man or the hiding woman, would help themselves to it in their retreat.

"I am Chief Inspector Drayson McCullough."
He pulled his sidearm, a SIG SAUER Equinox, somewhat outdated at first glance until one took into account the modern features. The pistol grip sported sensors coded to his biometrics, a built in laser sight, and chambered to .45s rather then .40s. There had been a discussion or two in the past that he should have favoured a .50 pistol, like the classic Dessert Eagle, but he wasn't so lacking in self confidence to need to compensate with so large a pistol.

The name and title probably meant nothing to the two; he still assumed each to be squatters, not the sort to be brushed up on local law enforcement outside of knowing what they looked like to best avoid them. "Mr Mikhailov, get these two out of here. Mr Sarkozy. On me."


The man needed medical attention, and the woman...well, he hadn't actually seen her yet, but he strolled past her hiding place and her fire, moving towards the not-so-distant sounds of struggle, simply assuming she would take Mr Mikhailov's lead and get to safety. "Mr Sarkozy. You are not fond of tight spaces. Well, you had best stow that discomfort for the time being."


The view ahead began to clear; a petite figure seemed locked in a sword fight with a very large, lumbering beast. No...not lumbering. It was almost impossibly fast for it's size. Drayson racked the action on his pistol and glanced at Ivan. Drayson knew fear; but the mark of courage was not to untouched and unknowing of fear. It was to know it and overcome. To press on no matter how much one's mind screamed that it was the worst possible idea.

Ignoring that primal cry had always been easy for Drayson. There was a line in the sand, between those that looked to him and his police for protection, for safety and normality in their lives. Between those people, and them that lurked in the shadows, committed evil acts, preyed on the innocent. And creatures like what stood before him. And he refused to let them cross that line.

[Ivan Sarkozy]

Every sound seemed amplified as they were making their way slowly towards the flickering orange light. Despite the chill, sweat trickled down his back, his enhanced senses making it seem like the drop took forever to make the trip. Time had slowed. The distant sounds of growls and something thchunking drifted to him. Suddenly, as if popping a bubble, they heard a voice scream from the tunnel entrance, “Hey! I don’t care who you are out there, or what you think I’m doing here! But there’s something freaking crazy goin’ on down here!”
At that moment, all hell broke loose.

Ivan's head swung round as the noise from up ahead resolved itself into a man stumbling from an open door, moving quickly but obviously pained, smell of fresh blood in the air making it clear he was injured. The man spoke- voice weak and strained. "Help...monsters."
There was no mistaking those word. Guess Zoya was right, floated into his mind. Ivan looked at the man and then drew on the power to bursting until his skin prickled, life flooding into him.

But he did not feel euphoria. The power that flooded him only made him feel all the more determined to deal with the threat, whatever it was. He had no time to wonder at the strangeness of it all. Police training kicked in. There was at least one person injured and another calling out for aid. Whether he personally believed in under-the-bed-monsters or not, he had a job to do.

Drayson saw the threat too. Immediately he ordered to the city worker to take the injured man as well as the owner of the voice- Ivan had known it was a women from the timbre of her voice- and keep them safe. He pulled his non-standard city issue gun and Ivan pulled his own 9mm and together they advanced down toward the tunnel with care. The feeling of oppression had gone. He had no time for that. They had to stop this thing. But if they were chasing monsters he figured guns would be useless. Still,holding his gun straight in front of him, he advanced with Drayson at the head. He'd give it to Drayson, he didn't back down either.

He made some comment to Ivan about his needing to fight down his claustrophobia- Ivan guess it was obvious from how he'd not been so chatty down here- but Ivan was good, so he threw out, "Don't worry bout me Cap'n. Something's bad out there and that's all I need to know."
Ivan advanced with Drayson into and down the tunnel. Though the power made his vision clear, it took a moment for his mind to process what he was seeing. Some kind of large....hairless bear or something- not a bear he know, but it was the closest his mind could come to putting a name to it- moving with lightning speed against a small woman with a sword. What the fuck?

He saw the speed with which she struck at the creature- sometimes drawing blood- even as she danced around its attempts to score a blow. It was a beautiful dance of death. But the creature was bigger than her and eventually, it would take just one slip and the thing would get at least one shot. A blow like that would knock even him or Drayson to the ground. Little woman like that would fly through the air into a wall and then she'd be done.

Drayson held his gun out like he was trying to draw a bead on the thing, but it never stood still. Ivan knew that it was hopeless to try to shoot it. He out his gun down and took a breath, drawing the power into him, feeling that force fight him, to overwhelm him. Anger welled up in him, along with fear- not fear for himself, but fear for the woman, fear for the other voice-less woman, fear for the man and even for Drayson. People needed him, needed help. He didn't have to time to fight the fucking power. He needed it and that was that. It was his job to protect people, his more than anyone else here.

He walked up to Drayson and then past him, eyes on the fast moving creature. He needed to be careful. Ascendancy had taught him, but he'd never had to use it, not once while out on patrol. His own wits and muscle had been enough during all that time. But this time was different. Now he knew why Ascendancy had taught him.

He was close enough now that he could see the creature moving. It was massive, easily half again as big as him and twice as wide, long hair whipping about as massively muscled arms and wicked claws raked the air to get at the woman, horns curled away from its head. Ivan wove threads of air and flicked them toward it, grabbed the creature in mid-swipe, binding its arms to its body. It struggled and thrashed, but Ivan refused to let it go and instead slammed it against the tunnel wall.

He could have sent fire to it, wreathed it in flame, but the woman might have been killed as well. Have to be a moron to do that. Air seemed to be the best bet, to restrain the creature while safeguarding the woman.

Course he knew jack what to do after that. He could only do one weave at a time and he was using that to hold the thing. Perhaps he could let the thing go and then destroy it with fire once she got clear. He called out to her, "Get away from it so I can kill it!"

[Aria]

Aria danced with the beast. Round and round they moved. Aria only got a few more slices in, and definitely not life threatening. Aria started to grow tired when yelling started in the cavern beyond. The oni started towards the easier prey. Aria caught it square in the leg and it growled back at her. It swung it's massive clawed hand and Aria was too slow, it caught her in the left arm, the pain seared through her arm, she could feel the blood flow and well from the gash.

The Oni turned on Aria again the smell of blood peeking it's hunger. Aria could feel it's hunger, it wanted her for a meal, the blood was too tempting. It rounded on Aria again.

Aria could feel someone approaching. Stupid people, haven't you ever seen a movie? There was no time to sigh, there was no time for anything other than trying to stay out the monster's reach. Aria danced through its claws. It almost smashed her into the wall, if she'd been one second slower or even slightly weaker from blood loss, she'd have crashed into the wall.

Aria could see the light from a laser flicker across the beast, but they moved too fast. And the gun would probably only piss it off.

The oni swung, Aria knew it would land. She tried to avoid the blow and brace for it all at the same time. It was only a moment that she closed her eyes, when she opened them again the oni was being whisked away and crashed into the wall.

Aria looked in the direction of the new comers through her hair that had fallen in front of her face. A second, empty man stood with gun drawn. Aria wanted to display a childish frustration but she didn't, she turned on the oni that was now struggling against bonds unseen.

The godling told her to get out of the way so he could kill it. That was not going to happen. Aria growled softly to herself. "Not on your life."


Aria moved in one quick flash, sword readied with both hands, to deliver a power full slash at the monsters neck. Aria felt the impact in her arms. Felt the blade slice through the tough skin of the oni and into whatever bones lay beneath. It was a distinct crunch. Sparks flew as Aria's sword struck a rock in the dirt wall behind it. The oni's head fell to the side and blood gushed everywhere, splattering across Aria's face and body.

There was no way she was going to let some cop take out an oni, even if he had just saved her from being crushed against a wall.

Aria turned back towards the two cops her sword above her head, her left arm hung limp at her side. Whatever power she had left drained from her, Aria staggered before falling to her knees. Aria looked over at the cops. "Sorry, I couldn't let you do that. But thank you.


Aria's heart raced, she sheathed her sword and put her head on the ground. The adrenaline and the pain coursed through Aria's body. It had been a good fight.


Edited by Aria, Jul 3 2014, 07:18 AM.

[Serena Morrigan]

At the sound of a body hitting the floor, and rasping coughs, Serena turned back to the end of the tunnel with the cavern and now, four men in it. She tilted her head to the side as she crouched down, watching the interaction between the men. Slowly, she peered behind her, at the dancing shadows, torn between what she should do. Sweat beaded on her upper lip, and a cold chill wracked through her body. She needed a fix, she would give anything just to have her head screwed on properly, and the only way she knew how to do that was use. Opiates were the easiest thing to find here, although a set of rigs was difficult to keep on you, but you found a way.

As it turned out, there was no need for Serena to make up her mind. The commanding cop did it for her, which was NOT out of the ordinary. He ordered the service man to take her and the shirtless, possibly half dead, man to follow him. As the two cops walked by, she eyed the man that called himself Drayson, and frowned.

“Who died and made you a God?”
She spoke the last as the younger officer passed by her, emerald eyes attempting to glare through him.

After they had drifted on down the tunnel a bit, she looked at the service man, and shook her head.

“Umm...no.”
She smirked, and as she stood, her knees began to lock, but she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. Again, she tilted her head to the side, her eyes focusing on the man on the ground. Crossing her arms over her chest, as if she were trying to hug away the feeling of her skin crawling. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the maintenance guy, Mikhailov, make a move towards her, and she stopped abruptly. Turning on him, placing her hands on her hips, she gestured to the man on the ground. Her stance would have been commanding, if one could look past her lack of height.

“He’s not gonna make it to wherever the hell you’re supposed to take us. The man can hardly walk.”
Pursing her lips, she looked down at him again, and shook her head slightly. Attempting to calm her own nerves, she breathed deeply, then dropped to the ground on one knee, remembering the duffle bag Drayson had dropped. Serena cursed herself for ravaging through “freebies”, but she didn’t have water, and this man needed it.

Fingertips cramping, sending shooting pain up into her wrist, she clawed through the bag until she found a bottle of water. Gods, we gotta do something for this guy. He’s gonna die! Shakily, she grabbed the bottle of water, and began to untwist the cap on the top, which seemed to be much more trouble than it should have been, but there was no way in hell she was just going to stop everything and say, “Hold on everyone, stop what you’re doing. Big scary monster in the tunnel, hold up! Can someone unscrew this cap for me?”


Giggling to herself for a moment, thinking of how ridiculous that would be, she caught herself and felt her face flush slightly. Her eyes moved quickly between the blonde haired man on the floor, to Mikhailov, and she cleared her throat. “I..uh...didn’t say that out loud, did I?”


At last, the top came off of the bottled water, and Serena attempted not to spill water on the wounded man. “You, uh...don’t look so good.”
She stammered as she noticed his open wounds. This is awful, I can’t just let this guy die.
Granted, she knew nothing about him, but that had never stopped her from helping other people. She wasn’t the best with medicine, or holistic, herbal remedies, but she cared...at least somewhat.

The small woman didn’t have time to think, it was happening again, she couldn’t withhold it any longer, her chest felt as if it would cave in, and her breathing came quick in her lungs. Why does this have to happen at every inopportune moment? I shouldn’t even be thinking about me, I should be thinking about getting help for THIS guy!


Her body crumpled forward, so she was practically in a ball, and as she folded forwards, her hand placed on the mans arm. “I’m sorry, I can’t….help..you.”


As her words escaped her lips, a wave of pure serenity washed over her, she was doing it again. Whatever this strange thing was, perhaps it was magic, she had only ever felt energy before in circle when she was younger, not raw power; but, here it was. Furrowing her brow, and biting her lower lip, she remembered that she had only previously used it to lash out at people, or something, but it had always helped her greatest needs. Maybe...she could use it on him.

Serena didn’t know what she was doing, whatever this strange magic was, she wasn’t sure how to control it at all. What she knew was to just will it with all the might she could, and MAYBE it would work. Propping herself on her elbow she looked into the man’s blue eyes, and shrugged. Her eyes grazed over his wounds until she closed her own, and visualized them in her mind. As she did so, she attempted to throw the power at it, like she had before with other things. In her studies as a Wiccan, there were different colours for each element, and each element did something different. Maybe this was like that? What could she lose by trying? Well, just a human..
She smirked slightly, as she pictured what she could of what healing might look like, and as she did so, little tiny threads became visible to her. Opening her eyes in shock, she was amazed when the strands were still there, but they emanated from her, and the ground beneath him.

“Holy hell…”
She started, “What would healing look like...What elements…”
She caught herself mumbling aloud, and snapped her mouth shut, hoping she hadn’t made an idiot of herself. Knowing the power wouldn’t last long, she tried to maneuver it the best she could, and quickly. Her thin fingers moved in the air slightly, to an outsider it would appear as if she was tickling the air before her. In her eyes, she was concentrating very hard at twisting strange, glowing threads together.

I always pictured healing like a gold colour, but I would think you’d use Air and Water mostly…
With each thought she wound blue and yellow strands together, and at the end threaded a single strand of white, or what she thought must have been Spirit. No longer could she hold the power flowing through her, and as she sat back, she was exhausted, and unamused that what she had done had not amounted to much.

“I’m sorry…”
She peered down at the blonde man, then turned to stand and dash back into the tunnel, but what she got was like walking through mud, or against a current in a stream. There was no dashing, just walking...very slowly.

[Drayson]

Some people had such a blinding aversion to authority that they would not even accept protection like a more rational person. The woman who had been lurking about the fire made a snide remark as he and Ivan moved past her, but he didn't spare her a glance. His work afforded her the opportunity to voice such opinions, after all.

Ivan seemed capable enough to get a grip on any discomfort he had, and even after being confronted by the creature he stepped forward, ready to do his job. The man was capable of things Drayson could not understand or fathom; and the simple fact that he stepped forward to face the creature spoke volumes for what kind of fellow he was. He would do well in Drayson's new task force.

Ahead, the woman's efforts against the creature seemed to find a sudden surge of determination; their arrival seemed almost an insult to her, but she was finally caught by one of it's blows. Or should have been. It was suddenly sent reeling back, seeming to struggle against unseen bonds, and the woman recovered quickly and lunged upon it, removing it's head from it's shoulders. A torrent of blood rushed forth, cascading across the tired sword-woman's body.

He eyed her for a moment as she dropped to her knees. He had met a professional monster hunter once before. An Atharim, the man had claimed to be. That man had killed a good friend of Drayson's, a good detective, and had claimed the man had been possessed by something called a Wefuke. And then the man had tried to kill Drayson, to keep his secret.

Whether she was one of those so-called Atharim was yet to be seen, but he suspected she was. And if that were the case, then she was just as likely to be acting, lulling them into a false sense of security such that she too could try to dispose of any witnesses.

"Very well done, Mr Sarkozy. Check on Mr Mikhailov and that wounded man, if you please. We will bag and tag this...monster."
He would very much like to see it delivered to a lab for study; they needed to start learning more of what was really beneath the city. He stepped closer to the sword-woman, although stayed well outside the reach of her blades; the woman had proven to be quit adept with them, after all. His pistol was lowered, the laser deactivated, although he did not holster the weapon. Or put the safety back on.

He studied Aria for a moment; he was calm, reserved. A man of few emotions, and most dulled by a long life of strife. A pleasant man, one who somehow still held some trace of hope for the world and for people, despite how regularly he had been proven wrong. Everyone deserved a chance, and he would offer no matter how many times that offered hand was bitten.

He had some understanding of the motivation of the Atharim; the priest he had met all those years ago in London had told him some about their beliefs and goal. They had been in existence for a very long time; perhaps predating recorded history, if he were to believe what the man had told him. And they had worked tirelessly to keep mankind safe from creatures like what she had slain. And had done a good job of it, as it was 2045 and those creatures were still thought of as little more then scary stories and folklore.

"You've done well, lass. Are you hurt?"
He would render assistance if he thought he could trust her not to try and kill him; perhaps better put as 'not to kill him.' He was no slouch when it came to a bout of fisticuffs, or with a gun, but if she got close, she'd likely have him cut down to size with those swords of hers without much trouble.

He would trust Ivan and Mr Mikhailov to tend to the wounded man and the girl; both were in need of assistance, and more importantly couldn't be allowed to simply wander off just yet. He needed to be certain neither knew anything of the creature. If they were illegal immigrants, neither could be taken to a hospital for treatment; that would likely result in a basic patch job and deportation. But something could be arranged; he intended to have a team down there as soon as possible to secure the creature's remains, and that team would include medics, who could tend to the wounded man.

He could not officially acknowledge the existence of the people that lived below Moscow, nor could he officially help them, but he knew ways to work outside of official channels, and the task force he had assembled was built of like-minded individuals. Those cops that had seen things like that headless brute, and had managed to keep the truth bottled up and keep their jobs and sanity.

[Giovanni Cavelli]

Giovanni had sat down - or fallen - he didn't remember which. Everything that was happening seemed to blend together and Giovanni felt very tired. His shoulder still hurt, but more than anything he wanted to just sleep. The cops moved to fight whatever it was that was farther back in the tunnel. Giovanni didn't look - and didn't want to.

The woman that had yelled approached him, saying to the maintenance guy, Mikhailov, "He’s not gonna make it to wherever the hell you’re supposed to take us. The man can hardly walk."


As of yet, the man hadn't moved Giovanni. The woman scrambled through a bag until she pulled out a bottle of water, fumbled with the cap, and gave it to Giovanni. Giovanni noticed her shaking hands, but at this point didn't care. The water had brought his thirst to the forefront of his mind. He took the bottle and began to drink quickly, feeling life come back into his body. He perked up a bit and felt a little more awake.

His attention back on the woman, he noticed she was waving her fingers in the air and a cold chill swept over him. It wasn't the chill of the wind; there was no wind in the tunnels. Neither was it a chill from a fever. The chill felt different and more elusive.

"Holy hell...what would healing look like...what elements..."


Giovanni suddenly understood. She could use the power and was trying to heal him.

"Two..."


Ordine's message confused Giovanni. Giovanni shivered from the chill and Mikhailov, having noticed, removed his coat and wrapped it around Giovanni's shoulders.

"Three..."


The message came just as the coat hit Giovanni's shoulders, and Giovanni understood. Ordine was counting the people who had helped him. The chill had went away and the woman had stepped away, apologizing for being unable to help. He muttered a thanks to both Mikhailov and the woman. Giovanni for the first time got a good look at her and noticed the short hair colored blue. The woman was pretty and the blue hair suited her. It was something Giovanni didn't often notice anymore, but God knows it had been a weird day.

Three people. Three people had helped Giovanni that day and for no other reason than they could and felt like he deserved to be helped. Guilt built up inside of him, adding emotional pain to his physical pain. Earlier that day, he had wanted to take advantage of an entire group of people. He then remembered the two cops who had moved to protect him. It was their job, but they still risked themselves to do it.

"Four...Five..."


Uncertainty fought with Giovanni as wondered why so many would help him.

"Because people help each other..."


It was the most coherent statement either of the voices had said since their argument had begun earlier that day. People help each other. They didn't need a reason to. They just did it.

Giovanni's thoughts were interrupted by an unearthly scream and he turned to look further down the tunnel. Some creature, now decapitated, fell to the floor. The older cop was there and in his light he saw another figure - female. She held a sword, blood dripping from its blade. Even from this distance he could tell she was shorter and dark haired, but it didn't matter. He recognized her.

"What is Aria doing here?"
Giovanni hadn't realized that he had spoken his thoughts aloud.

Ordine's previously louder voice now matched the volume of Caos. He thought he heard Caos mutter "Kill" and Ordine "No" before their babble became incoherent once more.


Edited by Giovanni Cavelli, Jul 5 2014, 08:59 AM.

[Ivan Sarkozy]

The woman ignored his order to get away from the creature and a flash of irritation punctured the feeling of the power coursing through him. He couldn't send a second weave of air to pull her away. Guess I'll have to do it the old fashioned way, he thought with frustration. He started down the tunnel ready to grab the tiny woman but her sword flashed at the creature and its head fell to the ground.

Then she turned around and he could see that one of her arms was injured. What the fuck is going on down here? Little woman he could probably bench press all day without breaking a sweat purposely taking on a creature that was easily 350 or 400 pounds and stood over 8 feet tall? Well, when it had a head, that's how tall it was. As if to cement the weirdness, she looked at him and said, "Sorry, I couldn't let you do that. But thank you.


He shook his head- the tension and frustration and confusion creating a nice stew in his head. "What the hell was that girlie?"
The tension and frustration started to boil over into anger at her...foolhardiness or whatever. Ivan didn't know what had been going on but that little woman had been about to die. If he hadn't strung it up with air, her face and chest-the creature had massive claws- woulda been sliced open to the bone. "You were almost killled! When a cop tells you to get back, you do it!"


He looked to Drayson and pulled himself back. The man's demeanor was quiet and calm and Ivan latched on to that. A part of him wanted to laugh out loud at the matter-of-fact-ness that he displayed. This was all old hat to him. Just another day on the job. He could see Drayon head home, maybe stop off for a bite to eat, never once thinking about what he just saw. Mister talking-to-the-waitress-Meh-was-an-interesting-day-at-work-took-care-of-some-trouble-down-in-the-tunnels-hey-can-I-get-a-slice-of-that-pie? Ivan needed that, needed that calm.

His mind flashed to Zoya and great fear suddenly spiked his heart. Had this been the kind of monster she had seen? The thought of her- pushy and headstrong- facing a creature like that...and she had no sword or gun or anything. She coulda been killed that night! She hadn't. But could have. And there he was flirting with her, playin their little game, when she had faced down something like this and gotten away. He was shaking with the possibility. He now understood how she ended up at the that bar throwing back shots. He woulda done the same. In fact, he probably was going to do that.

Drayson's words cut through the chaos in his mind and Ivan appreciated the man taking charge. He was right, they weren't done with their job. He put the woman and the creature and Zoya out of his mind. "Got it, cap'n,"
he said and then moved quickly back down the tunnel to help the other two.

He could see the injured man was on the ground, Mikhailov kneeling over him. The man was talking to himself. But the woman was walking down the tunnel toward him. She was also small and for a brief moment Ivan wondered if she and the other woman had been working together. Weird fucking job if the two of them are monster-chasers. But no, Ivan's gut told him that this was a street girl, maybe even a junkie. Pretty, for all that, though. Made him sad seeing people lost to the hunger, trying to obliterate their minds or demons or whatever. She was walking slowly, like in a trance, looking dejected. He didn't have time to chase her down and help with the injured man.

He smiled at her reassuringly. "Listen miss. I'm gonna need you to stay with us, ok? No one's gonna hurt you."
He looked at Mikhailov and the man. "That guy needs help and I think maybe you do too."
He put his hand on her shoulder to stop her from going further while pulling out his radio to call for an ambulance. Looking down the tunnel toward the creature, he gave the location. He wasn't sure how Drayson was gonna bag and tag the creature but figured the guy knew who to call for that kind of thing. Probably some Monster Cleanup Crew I've never heard of.

He looked back down at the woman- she only came to his shoulder- and then the injured man. "Come on miss. Come with me."
He looked her in the eye. Street kids were so skittish and untrusting- often with good reason, he had to admit. He made his voice as gentle and soothing as possible. "We'll make sure you're safe."



Edited by Ivan Sarkozy, Jul 5 2014, 10:40 AM.

[Akantha]

Though she couldn’t explain it to herself then, the Naga had been pulled by an urge to follow the injured man. At first, Akantha had grabbed her things and gone in a different direction from the two men, but it didn’t take long for her to stop and double back. Both had gone, and though there was no trace of the old man, she was able to find the young one after a while.

For a time, he’d left a trail of blood she was able to follow. Perhaps she was curious, wanting to see that the fellow did indeed find some sort of help. In truth, it wasn’t as if Akantha could take the man anywhere herself, but after having her hide carved to save him, the serpentine woman wanted to ensure it didn’t turn out to be for nothing.

By the time she found Giovanni, it looked as if he’d stumbled upon more trouble. Except the situation was far different than his previous experience. For one, there were more humans around. A few of which she watched with particular interest. At first, the shouting and commotion made her wonder if she would need to help, but the humans handled matters on their own.

In the end, it was for the best. She wasn’t terribly tired, but her wound would have slowed her down against the Oni. More importantly, it let her observe what the group of them were capable of. There was no way of telling, but judging by the way a dark haired man stepped up before the creature was stopped and flung by unseen ties, Akantha had a feeling that he was perhaps the one to watch.

Her people had a tale, a legend of their origins, and up until then she’d not treated it as anything other than a story. She’d never laid eyes on anything that remotely resembled the tales. To her, the Naga had simply existed as all things did. Now, she began to wonder what humans like the ones in the stories could mean to them. Had their scouts encountered groups like this? Is that why Sato had not returned?

Then there was the small woman with the sword. How many humans walked around with swords up on the surface? That night alone she had encountered two. However, Akantha had no desire to step away from her hiding place and ask her the question upfront. For the time being, studying the humans was her best bet.
Edited by Akantha, Jul 5 2014, 03:16 PM.

[Aria]

"What the hell was that girlie? You were almost killled! When a cop tells you to get back, you do it!"

Aria looked up and from her knees as she wrapped herself in her bubble to ignore her pain. He was serious from the look on his face. "And how would you have killed it?"


But he didn't have time to answer his partner sent him packing off to help others while he bag and tagged the monster. Aria sighed. This was not going to be a clean job, and there was no way that killing cops would go down well. Aria looked over at the one who stayed around.

"You've done well, lass. Are you hurt?"

Aria reached for the gash in her arm. And whipped away some blood. She knew that the godling had been right, but she wasn't about to let him take her kill. Not when it was so neatly wrapped up. She smiled. "I've had worse I suppose."


Aria stood up slowly. "I could have used your partner's abilities to carterize the wound, but I'm sure I can manage."


Aria felt another presence looming in the distance. She was hurt, but it wasn't enough to draw Aria away from the man in front of her. But it was something to take note of. This place was way too active for her liking, too many witness' to the deed at hand. Father Stone will not be happy. Aria frowned at her own thoughts.

"You don't seem overly surprised by this? Like most I'm used to.

Edited by Aria, Jul 6 2014, 06:57 PM.

[Giovanni Cavelli]

The water was a significant help to Giovanni. The fog began to clear a bit from his mind. The wound hurt, but weren't bleeding anymore and he began to feel better. The younger cop, the one that had used the power, pulled out a radio and made a call, he had used his hand to stop the young woman.

The fog lifted from his mind, he remembered her shaking hands. The poor woman had to be scared. Giovanni was still haunted by the image of the bloodsucker every time he closed his eyes and he could sympathize with her.

She had gotten him water and had tried to help him, for no other reason than she felt it was her duty to. Giovanni doubted she was a cop, she didn't have the look of one. She was just a normal person, who had wanted to help him. Giovanni couldn't offer much, but he owed her for that.

"Signore, help me stand,"
Giovanni said to Mikhailov. "I want to talk to her and if you don't help me I'll crawl over there myself."


Giovanni suited action to match his words, trying to stand on his own. Mikhailov, knowing he was serious or realizing the danger was over, helped him stand and rested Giovanni's arm upon his own shoulder. Mikhailov's other arm went around Giovanni, supporting him. The man easily carried most of Giovanni's weight and it was fairly easy for him to move.

Giovanni stopped next to the woman and placed his hand on her shoulder, "It's been a hell of a day, hasn't it? Every thing will be okay, signorina."


He gave the woman a reassuring smile and spoke to the cop, "Thank you for your help, signore."


"Help!"


Ordine's word was laced with joy. She - Giovanni had begun to think of Ordine as female - was evidently happy that he had decided to help in even such a small way.

Giovanni turned his gaze back down the tunnel where the older cop and Aria were. If there was any doubt before that the woman in the tunnel was Aria, it was now erased. Giovanni could see more clearly and he recognized her. She stood with the same deadly grace that she had when he had met her before. Giovanni still wondered why she was here. She had been hunting a creature before - is that what brought her to the tunnels today? Or had she reported him to the Atharim and had hunted him down?

He suddenly began to feel tired again, his brief spurt of energy having been expended. "I'm feeling tired again and need to sit. If you wouldn't mind helping."
Mikhailov helped Giovanni lower himself to the ground while Giovanni worried that his own head might be the next one removed by Aria's blade.

"She let you go before...she doesn't want to hurt you."


Giovanni looked down the tunnel at Aria, pondering Ordine's words and hoping she was right.


Edited by Giovanni Cavelli, Jul 11 2014, 11:56 AM.