Midnight Ambush

June 07, 2017:

Darkedge is being hunted and Ripclaw is on the way. Fortunately for both Tattoo is also in the area. (Emits by Dr. Strange).

An alleyway in Manhattan

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

It is a not-too-dark June night in New York. Dark enough for Darkedge to move unhindered if he avoids the main streets. The rooftops are dark enough, as are alleyways and some of the parks that dot Manhattan.
According to the guidelines he received the door to the magical Oblivion Bar is only a few city blocks away. But it is now when his mystical senses tell him something is amiss. Supernatural beings are in the way, and also behind him, closing quickly.


Post-incidents and thanks to Elinor's interventions Darkedge and Ripclaw didn't rend each other to pieces. The working order of things means there is always a higher calling, one they are set to the path of and right now that is of course the ever present threat of barrier breaches by the supernatural. It is good to hunt. It clears the mind.
A sniff at the air and a look to his left has Ripclaws red eyes piercing the darkness, he doesn't speak. Not yet. They're still just seeking.


That these creatures with wisps of magic to them can tail him as he steps from shadow to shadow a few blocks away nearly have the elf sneering. Darkedge had split off from Ripclaw several minutes ago, hoping to lose his stalker but when it bacame clear that he wasn't going to be able to do so ealier, Darkedge materializes out of Ripclaw's shadow with a faint but audible huff of air.
"Still followed and more converging there," he states telepathy to the other man, having discovered he can be heard, which makes Darkedge's life easier. He hates talking aloud. Where does the elf point? Oblivion Bar.
Not that he know that it's there.


Ripclaw's sharpened senses work amazing but when someone traffics in shadows it makes that process of physical to sensory juggle. A tip of his head to the side and the mutant listens, quietly, not to Darkedge but beyond. Getting a feel of the surroundings. "Then we may as well meet them. If they think we are prey then lets show them we are predators."


Darkedge vanishing was not expected by the chasing party. How did he detect them? There is a minute pause to reorganize and find out the elf is still nearby. Again, the hunters split, three of them heading towards Darkedge directly, entering the range of his senses (and perhaps Ripclaw’s) two minutes after the shadow-jump. The others are more careful, hiding themselves and trying to block all paths out.
The physical and the mystical, both.


The cave elf gives a nod to Ripclaw, mind sensing three of them. This is shares with Ripclaw, as the elf turns and readies himself.
"The space between those buildings offer much for me," sends the elf, careful to keep his thoughts locked to Ripclaw's mind alone. The sheer amount of shadow, it's noted to the other, will allow Darkedge nearly free reign of movement.


Ripclaw's senses honed as they are do not sense minds. The talent alone belongs to Darkedge here in those regards, he is forced to put faith in the Elf, "I'll go high." He says outloud before a leap takes place, the man, all of his strength and bulk is graceful as an acrobat, scaling higher trying to find of building to perch upon like a gargoyle.


The stalkers are soon revealed, coming from the rooftop opposite to Ripclaw and paying him little attention, instead peering down. They look human, a man and two women, but they don’t quite smell as humans. They don’t move as humans either. Too quick, too agile and strong. They climb down the building wall with inhuman dexterity, one of them dropping almost three floors and landing on a crouch. Then they stay, looking at Darkedge with vaguely iridescent eyes. Normal clothes, but they go barefoot.
Then the shadows seem to bend and there is a third woman between them. She is maybe fifty, short and thin. “Outlander, come to us,” he rasps. Something is wrong with her voice. “And you…” she pauses at seeing Ripclaw, up there. “Ooooh, you can come too. Oh yessss.”


"Noted." sends the elf as he walks toward the alley. He can sense them up above, coming down for him. He glances up in time to see one drop, landing into a crouch in front of him. A silver brow quirks: welcoem to my parlour. Twin long knives slide into his hands, seeming to grow out of his sleeves. The shadows bend, drawing Darkedge's attention.
The shadows are his.
The elf charges toward a wall, meaning to step into a shadow and appear from the woman's shadow. She spoke. Thus she's likely in command. Cut of the head and the spider legs flail.
There's only one problem.
Small problem.
Huge problem. Darkedge reaches out to step the moment he crosses into the darkness, and finds that the shadows refuse him. The elf senses that too late to slow his momentum but manages to turn just enough so that his shoulder slams into the brick. The force is enough to send him staggering back toward the center of hte alley. One gemstone blade clatters to the ground.
Trolldung.


"These things, what do you know of them?" Ripclaw's leap down is not a graceful one, it is a claws out dive towards one of those not the speaker. He is unaware of Darkedge's plight as they are now out of visiblity of one another. His focus is on testing and crippling one of these ceatures, no kill swipes yet, just to land upon on, hamstring it and see just exactly it is made of. "You will learn this is not the fight you wanted, beast."


“We don’t need to f…” but before the woman can talk Ripclaw comes flying and the creatures move quickly.
The old woman grabs something from a pouch and blows it towards Darkedge. It forms a large cloud of ‘dust’ made of a number of drugs (some of which won’t affect his alien physiology) and laminated iron, which is going to be painful and debilitating in any case, should it hit him.
The weird trio transforms, two inch claws sprouting from hands and feet, eyes going glowing red and mouths enlarging, filling with razor sharp teeth. Ripclaw’s target jumps to intercept him in the air, although the mutant is larger and comes much faster. The impact will probably break some bones, but she still attempts to sink the claws on his body. The other two move to try to tackle Darkedge down.
And from each side of the alleyway two more creatures come running.


"Nothing more than they smell of-" Cue the sudden jarring caused by Darkedge body-checking a building. The disorientation of NOT teleporting to a new location filters through along his thoughts to Ripclaw. Still recovering, the two that leap at him knock into him successfully. It's a testiment and a hard lesson to the elf that he has come to depend upon his shadow step in a fight a little too much, given how quickly the seem to be able to take him down. Ripclaw would sense the moment Darkedge loses consciousness as the hold the elf had on his mind winks out suddenly.


Ripclaw will collide with the female-monster midair, it's not exactly like he can dodge or move while in descent. The slam is bone jarring, a normal person would break, he is punctured by claws and the impact collapses a rib. A snarl escapes the mutant and then in the typical 'Snikt' style fashion goes berserker barrage in the rapid fire of stabbing motions at the creatures center. No point in being shy now. Its trying to kill him. Pain is forgotten. Violence is embraced. Red eyes go feral.


The female monster is tough and maybe even stronger than Ripclaw, but her tactic was suicidal as the impact breaks bones and makes her hit the concrete with Ripclaw on top. Eviscerating her on top of all might have been excessive, but it leaves her very much dead. The light fades from her eyes and the claws vanish.
Before Ripclaw can figure out what is happening, he hears them coming. Two more monster, one from behind, another from his front, from the street. The third one is taking Darkedge in a fireman carry, the fourth one comes from the other side of the alley, also running, although still far. The old woman cackles. “Take him too, take him too. Oh, such a lucky night.”


Kida… Now known as Tattoo, has been keeping a keen eye on the veil, on ripples, on the looks of thse within Oblivion.
What she cannot sense others can and there are tells that have her looking towards the New York exit when a tiny imp shrinks down, away, and exits stage-Metropolis!
Not in it!.
A tilt of head and with a low seep of palm, the trio of lupine figures rise from the floor around her seat, the door opened and into the bustle of NY nights they go!
Three becomes five, the shadows split around her and her skin shifts, more tan left open beneath the ink exposed by a oil-stained tank top, loose fitted jeans hang low on hips, tethered in place by a once - polished Gucci belt now left to disrepair. Fitting…
Boots break across concrete, following her 'pack' a low growl lets her know enough as they split off, but not too far apart from the bodies in need (Dark and Rip). Darkedge is known, and with the silhouette of one wolf already there before the fall of his body there is a sudden flash of arc, the low growl of ethereal lycan followed up by the descent of Tattoo, the spear pulled into her hand and aligning age old script of Haida along the length, the honed edge seeking to drive into one of the assaulting upon the Dark Elf.
Ripclaw is not left alone either, the lift of canine nostrils, the flare, and a further hunt has the beasts reaching, but standing at the dge of the street he resides within. Pacng, stalking, their calls ones of yips and howls, glistening fang. A threat to draw out and back the demonic attackers from their prey.


A scent has been gathered.
"Too many." Ripclaw growls as he gets stricken from behind and the front. There more closing in, its a skirmish so his movement isn't slowing to take count just yet. The blood and gore dripping from his claws is already being applied to a new one. They can take him down it just won't be without a very savage fight.
The only point he will pause in his 'wild' defense is to seek out Darkedge and ensure his comrade in arms is at least still standing. Ripclaw won't find that a option as they block out his visuals, so much darkness and violent shredding. Not just them but also him, he is slowing of course… fight in him will only last so long.


The creatures are not great martial artists, and use only basic pack tactics, but they are fast and strong. As one tries to slash Ripclaw, the other attempts to tackle him from behind, wrestle him down.
They are counting with it being a three on one soon, but they are mistaken as Tattoo appears with a pack of wolves. Darkedge is unceremoniously dropped to the dirty ground, and the old woman steps back, looking worried. “P-protect me, kill those beasts,” she whispers. “Wait… another outlander? But why?”
The red-eyed creature jumps forward, attacking the wolves with the speed and strength of a tiger. And the last one joins the fray making a long leap towards Tattoo, claws forward.


Ripclaw is strong. Strong like bear. But supernatural strength could be anything, possibly more than he is capable of and the tackle puts him on the ground, the slash at least counter slashed with long biomechanical claws, ones built for rending through something as durable as even Iron Man's armor. To the ground they go. Worst place to be on the defensive. It's a fight for survival now.


This is not Kida's fight. Just as Darkedge told her, her fight was not his.
But here she appears, that spear held behind her tretched with the blue outline of Haida brightening as she spins it and leaps for the demon coming her way from over Darkedge's body, drawing it up and back, a pivot behind her and it is driven forward towards the beasts abdomen!
In the meantime the massive lycanthrope is dragging Darkedge into shadows, lips peeled back due to the taste of even his cloth upon its lips as they the wolf seeks to drag Dark to cover and join it's pack mate made of the Tattooed woman.
Where Ripclaw is and the fight progresses those snarls become something abyssal, gutteral, massive jaws snap, spraying strings of saliva in their call of threat to his attacking demons, pacing the threshold with tails of thick fur beating in a high wave.
Dominance. Challenge. Two beasts to the others, a territorial call out basked on the backdrop of distant howls!


The mutant’s claw cause horrendous damage on the creatures, which are not much tougher than normal humans. But they fight like possessed maniacs (which they are). As he manages to tear one apart, the other bites on his neck and smashes his head against the ground. Again and… not again, as a magical wolf bites him and pulls him back.
Meanwhile Kida brings up her spear and the jumping demon (because she is right, they are demons) is impaled through. Despite that, the monster snarls, pushing forward and flailing to try to tear her throat out.
The last demon falls on the wolf trying to draw Darkedge away, trying to grab the animal by the neck and rip its head off.


A tear of neck and blood gushes out. Ripclaws hand rises up to clutch it but its at a pretty important location on the anatomy. Weakness onsets quickly and he finds himself incapable of stopping the assault of his head being bashed in to the ground, crunch crunch. Skull indents a bit and the big Native American stops moving, slick crimson fluid pooling out of his dead looking body on the ground, arms with claws splayed out to his sides.


The further the demon pushes the more the spear penetrates until it is a through and through wound, her hands reddening around callouses as she holds fast and plants her boots, her had snaps back, those feather-light strands of raven's wing splay outward in her cast off of the proximity in the grip while she braces against the weight of the impaled beast and finds footing against the wall of a building to grind her teeth and lunge!
The spear arcs! The technomagical expulsion is like a scattering shrapnel upon the impaled as she lets loose a foreign battle cry of old dialect and embeds the spear into cracks of mortar and brick.
Release comes and lightning expels from the blue outlinings of Haid scrips, seeking to split through the embodiment and interruption impaled on its length. The reflection of the archs of electricity show in those pale gray eyes as Tattoo takes a couple steps back, right foot, left fo—- Her ankle bends, a muscle spasms and she cries out asthe wold beneath the minisrations of the demon persuing Darkedge manages to rend its body in twixt, the head hitting the concrete and rolling!
A tear falls and the jeans are stained in red upon outer left thigh.
The hunched form seems nearly defeated until the skin along her spine begins to bubble, a life form beneath called, skin over the protrusion of shoulder blades splitting to herald bat-like wings that draw color from her skin and slap the ground around her in their splay, lifting her from the ground, her eyes now a faint glow of that electric blue. But as she is pitched back…!
The two wolves calling out to Ripclaw's attackers (now only down to one) lunge, closing a gap also sealed by the loft of Tattoo onto the rooftop, perched upon the ledge like a gargoyle over the scene where one of hers is in two, the blood falling down along the side of the boot in tiny rivulets.
"Ge'e dlaaya!" A challenge called to the final demon attempting at Darkedge, although the call of her other two approaching the body of a fallen is heard and heeded.


Impaled and electrocuted, Kida’s target stops moving and slides down smoking to the ground. That is three down and two to go. And the old woman, that now looks quite nervous. One of the demons, already bleeding from Ripclaw claws, is trying to shake off a wolf that has already hamstringed him.
The last intact demon steps over the dead wolf and comes for Kida, the hands dripping blood. He has, at least, gotten to respect that spear, and is not charging blindly.


An odd pop sound and Ripclaw's skull pushes back out. A hiss sound escaping him as shoulders slumped rise upwards, his body wavering and the blood pouring down the ground, his fingers clutch to that spot once more. One armed he lunges up behind the shaking demon and raps those spiked fingerblades up through its back for them to only spike out through it's abdomen. A low growl issuing from the mutant-cyborg, "Die." His words barely coherent, he'll leave the one not even slowing in his now mad rush to lunge at another, his claw rising up and coming down in an attempt to actually sever it's head from the shoulder at the neck.


There were wolves in helping Ripclaw…
They were not there apparently.
Ripcalw had this, so when he surfaced and handled the demon upon him they pivotd upon the aggressor who tore the head off one of theirs. From either side they stalked, and when the beast of sulfur and copper rose for Kida..
One from south,
Another from north..
As head was ripped, it's limbs were saught by jaws and a game of tug of war now becomes fatal, seeking to rip the spawn in half before it can so much as land feet to Earth once more.


The last demon has to pause his advance on Kida as the wolves jump on him. He grabs one, tearing and biting at the animal, but the other slams on him, throws him to the ground and then bits his nape.
A few seconds later it is over. The demon aspect leaves behind just a human corpse, although those with special senses can feel the taint of very dark magic. Another of Kida’s wolves is left badly wounded, but still alive.
The old woman has been retreating into a dark corner as the creatures fell one after another. Right now she is whispering, pleading. “Save me master, I am sorry, master, please, please…” then she chokes, gurgles.
And spontaneously combusts. In seconds it looks as if she burns from the insides, leaving only a charred skeleton and ashes.
Darkedge is still unconscious, but he is alive and not going anywhere.


Ripclaws eyes are on the wolves warily, he'll attempt to save any if he can but they seem to be well enough against the demons. His own wounds with standing he goes through the one and seeks out Darkedge, he owes it to Elinor and the elf. Considering. The spontaneous combustion of the elderly female has him wincing, the smell is horrid. Finding the elf he leans down to scoop him up, tossing him over one shoulder. The shoulder that is not covered in bites and bloodshower. Those, should hopefully heal soon. Hopefully. Supernatural wounds are always a crapshoot.
"Striding out now, the slender assassin clutched safely on one brawny shoulder the big Native looks at Kida and her mystical pack, "Do you need further help? I must get him to safety."


Four.
That s all that is left now, the final two that had been waiting converge, licking the wounds of the survivor while the fallen is mourned and passed silently, a push of nose to the severed skull. A pass of silver eyes to Darkedge,
waiting…
But when Kida comes to the ground, the wings splayed, fold inward to tuck against her shoulders and suck back beneath the span of skin along the spread of upper back, a bandanna pulled from back pocket to tie off the damage below upper thigh, a temporary tourniquet of survival.
"Gaa'annu." A shake of head to Ripclaw and a hand rests on top of a massive beastial head - one still attached to the body.
Flesh can be heard piercing, rending, as the fallen is gathered in the jaws of the others and drug away with them.
"My dead to bury."


"I see. The wolf died valiantly…" Ripclaw offers Kida. "A warrior's death is what many are denied." A wince as he rubs his neck with one clawtipped hand, "I would stand around and speak further but my… friend here." A tip to Darkedge, "I must make sure he is going to live." Not much extra to be said as Robert starts to walk, "The Oblivion. You know of it? That is where we are headed." An invitation and a destination declared.


"I lost one, saving one who would not help me." A cast of that gaze backdropped in a storm still brewing, towards the limp form of Darkedge. tattoo swallows, visible as the bandanna is knotted in a slam of opposing fists to knot the fabric. Rising and turning without a further flicker of gaze granted to the other fallen.
"At least he has his head." Those words do not sound reassuring. Every step gains strength, or at least an unnecessary pride, down to the rigidity of spine. Pausing, her spear is gripped from the place it was imbedded, covered in black ichorand visceral remains.
A jerk and it sparks, folding in on itself to be tucked down the small of her back, nevermind the black paint of blood along scarred and inked flesh. "Send Cap my regards."

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