Demon Bear: The Fall: Mizar, Alicor and Alioth Sighted

November 17, 2017:

Part two of the Demon Bear attacking the Mansion.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: The Demon Bear (emitted by Dani), the Shadow Wolf (emitted by WS) and the Songbird of Doom (emitted by Jane)

Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The Mansion is under attack and has been for the last fifteen minutes.

Both physical and psychic alarms have gone off. In fact, the physical alarms continue to ring shrilling throughout the hallways. For those that have comm units they too lit up with the chatter of an attack.

Thankfully, the majority of the student population has been safely tucked below within the sub-basement, where shelters for just this type of situation exist.

Those that are left within these hallowed halls will find several things to contend with -


There are dozens upon dozens of crows inside the Mansion. The glossy black-feathered birds are arriving through broken windows; windows that they slammed through. With every passing minute the avian population within the Mansion continues to grow, and these birds aren't the nice kind. Anyone that isn't seen as a friend by their beady red-eyes will find themselves attacked. Along with the birds, shattered jagged glass lines the floors and carpets. A testament of just how ferocious the birds entrances have been.


Outside is worse. Outside within the backyard of the Mansion there is literally a Bear attacking. It, however, isn't a regular grizzly. It's larger, as tall as a skyscraper, taller than the Mansion itself. It's form is a meld of animal and shadow, with the Bear's head, four legs and paws clearly defined, while the torso of the beast is compromised mainly of shadows. Those shadows flick and twist, distorting and retracting, and within those shadows images might be seen by those that are observant.

The Bear itself is right on top of the Mansion, near the backdoor, and it stands upon two-legs much like a man. It soon becomes apparent /why/ it's standing upon two-legs, as it raises one mighty front paw high into the air. That paw lingers there for a second, before it comes /slashing/ downward to the upper stories. When those claws, talons really, connected with the roof of the Mansion, the very foundation /rocks/. Groans even, as the building struggles against the force behind the Bear's attack.

Wood splits and shatters, shingles going flying and stone cracks beneath those blighted claws. When this is all over, the attic might never be the same again.

Along with the Bear in the backyard, a murder of crows can likewise be found. Hundreds upon hundreds of live crows circle within the air, while dozens upon dozens of dead ones lay upon the ground. The stench of those dead crows is sickly sweet, thanks to the rot that's already taken hold of them.

The last creature that can be seen is a pegasus. Its coat, wings, tail and mane, are coal black. Only the eyes, red like the crows, offer any contrast to the darkness that it's currently made of.

Finally, while the rest of the city is experiencing Autumn, the Mansion is not. Snow falls silently around. The temperature is affected too - chilly, cold and where the Bear's large shadow falls absolutely freezing. To the point that frostbite can occur.

Winter has come.

Rogue had helped the students into the basement, she'd made sure they were all okay and then she'd gone back up with some of the others to the main floor… She'd gone up to her room, but had stopped at Scott's and dipped inside of it instead… a about thirty seconds later and the southern belle leapt out of Scott's room with a Baseball Catcher mask on her head and a metal bat in her hands.

Crows may be attacking the school, smashing through windows, but all Rogue saw was "Batting practice…" She muttered.

The resulting show was that of the French teacher making her way through the hallway using her Seventh Sense of danger detection to line up her swings… and every, time, she connected, with one there would be a cloud of black feathers, bird goo and sudden bird-squeaks ended by the grip of death to a solid Easton-brand bat.

Lorna and Marcos had been running around in the Danger Room again, in the sub basement. It had taken getting through the safety rooms below, now occupied by students, for her to get clear up to the main floor. It had taken time. Precious time. But by then at least, she had some small idea what she was facing. The way the house shook had her pausing, placing a hand against the interior wall closest to her and drawing hard on the electrical current that ran inside. Whatever lights were still on flickered and she inhaled a breath, electricity flickering around the edges of her amplified magnetic shield. She still wore her armor from the Danger Room, and looked every inch her father's daughter as she crunched glass under foot.

Polaris flung her hands outwards, and all the metal bits and bobs she could sensefrom the kitchen flatware, the front of the fridge, the lamp in the living room, the out-door patio table and others she scrapped into metal plates. Steel and iron alloys slammed over the broken windows. Effectively trying to keep further birds from entering the attacked mansion. Now to just take out the ones inside.

Four X-Men were outside when the giant shadow bear arrived. They gave alarm and protected the students until they could reach the bunker. Cloud was the first to fall, and then Cyclops has been devoured by the shadows, and perhaps foolishly Magik jumped to save him without her Soulsword. Because the Soulsword has remained stuck in the kitchen floor, as anchor of a silver pentagram.

The last man standing, inside the still glowing pentagram, is Nate Grey. The telekinetic dome he raised over the mansion was just shattered, and he is bleeding from nose and ears. But still conscious. And Illyana's pentagram seems to keep the bear shadow at bay for now.

He is still reeling from the psychic feedback, but manages to open a telepathic channel to the other X-Men in the grounds. « Watch out for Moonstar. She seems under the monster's control. And avoid the shadows, they swallow people. »

Marcos was just being an average X-man ya know? just doing some training with Polaris in which he probably got his ass kicked a few times, but he does pause when he feels similar things to Lorna. Both of them running outside the room and to the main floor where he saw that demon bear.

"What in the actual hell?" he narrows his eyes, using his photokinesis to fire lasers of light from his hands at the Bear, adding fuel to the fire probably…but hey…demon bears. what else is new?

Thankfully he was still in his uniform, so hopefully he had at least -some- protection.

Rogue's effectiveness with the baseball bat is quite good. The birds, magic-laced they may be, are still just that. Birds.

So, when the bat hits their feathered bodies they go down with a crack and a squawk. Their bodies hit the carpet and non-carpeted floor with soft thuds, and from their mouths and eyes, and any cuts upon their bodies, black slug-like maggots wriggle out. Most of those burrowing little creatures make for Rogue's feet, unaware of just what they're up against.

When Lorna touches the nearest wall her senses likely paint a not-so-pretty picture. Those claws continue to carve through the roof and then into the side of the Mansion like butter. Wood beams snap, the metallic nails within them fall, and the foundation continues to shudder with the force. The savage wounds that are opened by the Bear's claws allow for those inside to see what they're finally fighting. A large demonic looking bear. The face of the Bear is twisted into a silent snarl of rage, its muzzle crinkled back to expose large sharp ivory teeth. Blighted much like the claws upon the beast's paws. With the Bear now seen, Eclipse's lasers finds a mark upon its body. They hit right below the beast's head, in the heart of the shadows that make up its torso. While the Bear doesn't necessarily roar in pain, it does roar in /anger/. That attack shifts the attention of the Bear from the building at large straight to Eclipse.

A promise of pain in the mad eyes of the Bear.

Elsewhere, on a plane that consists of darkness, a woman raises her head upward. She's dressed in black, with a bear-cloak covering her shoulders and upper-body. The head and upper jaw of that dead grizzly bear sits atop her own and shadows the majority of her face. A quiver full of arrows sits upon her back and a bow in her hand. With a murmur of assent, the woman steps through the shadows. A short journey when it comes down to it and one that brings her *back* into this reality. Back into the Mansion and back within the kitchen, where soulsword, pentagram and Nate Grey await.

"We'll take that." She states, an arrow already being sent straight for Nate Grey's chest.

The shadow of the Bear covers the land. And from that darkness, a young woman emerges.

A moment after her quip to Nate Grey, something else emerges too: a deep, bone-rattling, canine growl.

At her heels, shadow warps and splits into black fur and stark blue eyes, and the massive shape of a wolf lopes free from the pooling darkness. It overshadows Danielle Moonstar in height several times over, yet it heels in her wake with the fluid sentinel obedience of a great hound. The creature's left foreleg is a mass of writhing shadow, blacker than black, resonant with the shadow of the great bear. As it steps along, each step of that leg bares intermittent glitters of something silver beneath, and its claws ring with the sound of steel when it strikes off the floor.

Its head turns towards Nate Grey. Its lip lifts to bare teeth the length of a man's arm.

Then those lasers strike the Bear. The demonic creature roars in rage; summoned, the wolf turns on itself and vanishes, sliding through the darkness fallen over the mansion… only to rematerialize directly behind Eclipse.

Massive jaws attempt to snap shut on the man's back, to break it clean in two.

There is a flicker of movement at the gigantic wolf's withers. Here and there again, rustling through the great beast's thick, black fur —

— sits a tiny, ordinary songbird, small as a sparrow, making perch on the monster as it lifts and raises its chitin-black feathers. The little bird looks on down from its lofty place, head craned suddenly, swiftly, and tilted to angle one severe eye straight down on all those in congress. Images reflect against that black mirror lens. Its tiny wings flex open once, a momentary threat, before they fold shut — and it disappears when the wolf does, unravelling inside pockets of shadow.

And then /back/ again, with the wolf's arrival, returns the little bird, its feet gripping perch on top the wolf's head. It makes no movement of its own — but instead, begins to sing.

It is a single, lonely bluebird's call, animal but not — something twisted and sinister carrying on those notes. Winding them on the air. Making them carry.

To those close enough to the wolf to hear: the songbird's call begs /terror/.

Terror welling up from nowhere. Terror quickening the heart and icing the blood. Terror that encourages people to freeze in their tracks, to hold, to /wait/ for the inevitable. A song to beg the audience of the X-Men to lose their minds, so long as that little bird can sing…

The sudden razing did not come unknown to Helen, her suit cases were being packed in the dark room laden in posters that bare worship to Nordic Death Metal Guardians in their own form of warrior paint that bleeds back tears down pale skin…

But that blackness truly drips over the glossy posters, a sheen perhaps; but her skin, exposed where corset and criss-cross lacings did not covet, lifts in the tiny bumps that raise downy hairs like hackles, making her shudder as everything begins to tear on these grounds.

"Oh… Father…"

Glass shatters inward in an explosion as the crows flood through and find the room empty while wings beat through chains and over upholstery.

"To the ground and below!" The two visiting mothers look shocked as Helen is crossing the room and the inkwork on her skin bleeds out, quicksand into pores of perfection. "…what??!" A cloud of midnight green takes them just before massive claws of a bear crash through and tear the room into long jagged pits. (Sub-basement/Safety)

Outside, Helen appears, but it is not truly Helen anymore, the small stature of 'humanity' is bleeding out the inkwork while height lofts to over 6 feet, the leather encasings of black swirl with green in a golden lacework of pattern that mingles with the bejeweled slave-chained jewelry upon fingers. Upon brow a coronet rests, pinning back the fall of massive braids.

Eyes flash to leer upon the Bear, but Brightwind…. The Asgardian breed of Pegasus is her target. "Lower, beast! Where is your soul??!" An attempt to connect where the Roots are best while there is not time for question.

In theory, all students should be safely sheltered away in the sub-basement of Xavier's as the Demon Bear attacks. In theory, all students should be safe from harm provided the frontlines of faculty and X-Men can hold the beast back. In theory.

But, hypothetically speaking, what if one of the students was playing hooky from his responsibilities for the day? Hypothetically, what if one of the students was so adept at dodging work or attending class that he had put up extensive psionic shielding over his room to make people think no one was there? Hypothetically, what if this one, single student pit all his not-inconsiderable resources into making it appear like he was part of the rabble when really he was just taking a prolonged nap so deep he didn't even notice the disaster knocking at their backyard?



The sound of a shot rings out on mental wavelengths rather than physical, a clap of psychic gunpowder that lights up neurons as bright as a flashbang. From the entrance to the backyard, a bullet of pure, cerulean psionic energy flies, looking for its target — the songbird, crowing its haunting melody.

And at the entrance stands the hypothetical student Quentin Quire, wearing a black blazer, black shorts, and a white t-shirt reading 'WHAT DO YOU CALL ONE RUINED GALA?' along the front.

He's also yawning like someone who was just woken up from a nap.

With the wide, uncomprehending stare of someone who is -pretty- sure they're still having a really trippy dream.

"What the hell is going on here?" wonders the young, pink-haired man, dark brows lifted incredulously as he holds onto a revolver made entirely of psychic compulsions; because yes, he absolutely fired first before he even knew what was happening. He looks up. And up. And up. Until he gets a good eyeful of demon bear, going to town on the school.

"Wow. Even the forest creatures hate us. This is my shocked face." And Quentin Quire, absolutely stone-faced, lifts that gun and fires again. And again. Aaand again. And as he does, the back of his blazer flares upward, revealing the back half of his self-made t-shirt's punchline:


Enter Kid Omega. Who was absolutely not playing hooky.

Lorna was already trying to ply the metal within the walls into weapons—rebar and other 'unncessary' bits of metal, picture frames, pipes and electrical wires came ripping out of the walls to try to support block the paths leading to the basement where the students were. Her hands upraised at her sides as she watched and prepared to throw around even more metal in a whirl-wind attack.

At least that was until there was suddenly a wolf and it was suddenly charging for Marcos. She snarled, defensive and over protective of her boyfriend as usual, and the pipes in the walls lashes out into an intricate weave of steel and sudden bursts of water to create a wall between Marcos and the sharp claws.

….Then Lorna heard the bird. The song. Her eyes went wide, and a terrified, choked sound escaped her lips. She gasped, freezing up. "..Marcos." She whimpered. Her powers, so intrinsically linked to her emotional state snapped. The whole of the house's foundations trembled with her fear. A scream of terror mingled with her anger, a natural emotion so tied to fear that it was clear the magnokinetic was very much about to lash out…

And then the shadows rose up from the corners of the floor around her, from the edges of the hall way and wrapped around her legs. Her anger was broken off and Lorna was yanked to the floor hard. She slammed down against the floorboards with a harsh smack, and she screamed again. This time in honest, terror, with no reaction from her powers. She struggled in vain, her hands groped for something on the polished wooden floor. "MARCOS!" She screamed again.. and was swallowed up by the shadows that consumed her.

Nate glares at Dani when the possessed woman returns. "Dani… you are not touching this sword," he warns her, plucking the arrow off the bow telekinetically, and pointing at the woman's neck with her very arrow.

And then there is giant wolf materializing. Too large for the mansion floor, and yet it is there. Nate curses, trying to raise his telekinetic power again. He feels spent, but maybe still strong enough to fight against an elephant-sized wolf. Maybe.

And the wolf leaves? That is almost insulting. "Your puppy left you alone? Now lets see what is going on." Which means going into Dani's mind. If at all possible.

Marcos turned around and then there was that wolf. "Shit!" and he was already leaping out of the way when Lorna attempted to defend him, and he retaliated with a flash bang light from his hands using his abilities…. but then Lorna called out his name. and he heard that bird, and he covered his hears or tried to as he looked around in fear..

But Lorna was getting dragged. "LORNA!" and he dives for her, only for him to be too late and she is dragged off. This…pisses him off. he turns around and lets out a cry of rage, light coming out from all parts of his body like a destructive force. He looks to the bear, blasting it with light then. If this wasn't going to end well for him..he's getting his licks in. and avenging Lorna if he can.

Amora reaches out to Brightwind, another Asgardian such as she, and connects with his mind. Only instead of the thoughts of an intelligent animal, such as he, something else is there. It's pain and anger, coldness and unhappiness, and emptiness too. The shining soul of Brightwind is nowhere to be found within him. Instead it lies further away as the tiniest of psychic tendrils offers a zig-zag pathway to where it is.

And while one could follow that psychic-yellow-brick-road, Amora might find herself distracted. Both upon the psychic and physical planes.

With that psychic touch of hers the Bear likewise senses it. It's enough that he sends out filaments of shadows into the winged-horse. Those little fingers of darkness burrow into the horse's mind and search for the woman's presence. When she's found that blackness strikes out like a cobra, only instead of venom that burns and poisons, it strikes with the bitter cold of the Frost Giants. To burn and freeze and hurt.

Along with that psychic attack is the more physical kind, as Brightwind senses the woman nearby. That causes the winged-stallion to pivot upon hooves and when he sees the woman he offers a scream of challenge. Then he attacks. It's a simple thing really - a leap, followed by a slight flare of wings and a lunge, as Brightwind tries to barrel into the Enchantress to knock her down. Possibly stomp his hooves on her fallen form should fate smile upon him this day.

The song of the bird brings forth that fear and all is good. All of it. It allows the shadows near Lorna to rise up and rip her into their embrace. Pulling the woman under to fall endlessly through the darkness.

Surrounded by cold.

Quentin's appearance barely raises a reaction from the Bear. Not until those psychic slugs are shot at it. The first bullet hits and almost the second, but the rest of the bullets are swallowed by shadows. Shadows that rise up from the ground to reach with greedy fingers for them. They disappear within their depths.

When that bullet hits home the Bear's head lashes backward, a roar of pain leaving it's maw. That pain only lasts /so/ long, however, especially when Eclipse's wave of concussive light hits it acting almost like a slap in the face. Or a bucket of cold water. It breaks that psychic pain long enough for the Bear to gather itself together. The madness within its gaze burns brighter and in retaliation for those two attacks the Bear slams itself into the Mansion.

A full body hit. It shakes the house, causing crazed cracks to appear upon the walls and ceilings. Pictures fall, furniture overturns and the general chaos of an earthquake rumbles through the mortar and stone building.

The shadows that took Lorna aren't still either. Now they turn to Quentin Quire and the pink-haired young man will find the darkness pooling around him. Ghostly hands rising from their depths and reaching for him. Coldness leaches from the depths and pours into the room around the two men, wolf and bird.

For Dani, her arrow may be telekinetically plucked from her bow, but that doesn't stop her from retaking the projectile when Nate's attention shifts to the wolf. At his surprise, the woman swiftly nocks the arrow upon bowstring and lets it fly. As the arrow flies a familiar psychic construct appears along side it - a psychic arrow, filled with nightmares waiting to be unleashed.

Whether her arrows hit, or not, Dani steps forward, a hand going for the soulsword. Her steps pause, however, before she can touch that coveted sword when Nate reaches for her mind. Like Brightwind, the Bear senses that intrusion within Dani's mind and Nate will find that psychic touch assaulted. Frost and shadows reach along the link to burn and freeze, to hurt and stun.

The sudden wall of woven steel, stitched together in midair by Lorna, cuts off the monstrous wolf in his intended path. He stops, skids, is forced to readjust his course to try to reach his prey around the solid defense. Each clicking, clawing step of its left forepaw leaves a trailing print of frost in its wake.

Marcos isn't unprepared, though, and those fangs close on nothing as the man leaps out of reach. Jaws snap shut so close that the wind shearing around those bared teeth is palpable.

Stymied, the wolf turns glowing blue eyes towards Lorna. On its back, the bird starts to sing. The magnokinetic locks up in terror, the very foundations of the place starting to shake from her distress, and the wolf licks his jaws.

Shadow swarms over her a moment later, and she vanishes.

The wolf's jaws part, fangs baring in a lupine sort of grin. His gaze turns back towards Marcos — and the air hums with something. Something dangerous.

The creature sinks into shadow and vanishes, bearing the bird with him, to hide away from the psychic bullet. He stays gone, many long moments.

Then he lunges out into existence again, spit from a well of shadow, his monstrous form trying to shouldercheck Quentin Quire straight into the grasping darkness. He uses his left shoulder… and should it make contact, the writhing shadows will freeze flesh with such intensity as to feel like a burn.

The terror song only flinches and stops short when the wolf moves — twisting away with its predator grace to avoid Quentin's psychic shot. The little bird goes silent, hunkered in low, half-covered in the beast's fur, and disappearing similarly into that shadow.

Only when the wolf returns, lunging forward out of another well of shadow, that the bird flares open its tiny wings and takes to the air with a signalling chirp, arrowing in and through the pulling-down, mulching halls of the shaking mansion. It flutters here and there, catching furniture and lighting inside the grasp of its little talons, skipping from object to object as it tries to take an aerial point down at those in congress, fighting against the demon bear and its twisted kind — fighting to keep their home.

The little songbird gleans upside-down off an overhanging fixture, wings open, twisting its head to turn one black eye down. It twitches back and forth, before it catches sight of Nate Grey, possibly on obesiance by the bear to keep particular vigil on the man.

The bird begins to sing again, for him, and for anyone who might be close enough to hear —

This song is blindness. Blindness in the eyes. Blindness in the psychic senses. Blackness closing in on all sides, the shadow thickening, squeezing out any shred of light so long as that tiny songbird sings. Blackness that seeks to try to conceal the bear and its animal heralds. Blackness, thick and choking, that can leave one to feel /all alone./

Predators hunt best in darkness.

It feels cold. There's a tremble down his spine.

Quentin Quire fastidiously ignores it.

It's all smug bravado from the former prize pupil instead, shoving down that uneasy feeling with a slimy smirk and a supercilious stare as the Demon Bear rears and roars from his attack. He pointedly chooses not to recognize that only one of his bullets made its way through — a fact to be taken into consideration when he's done kicking this giant thing's ass and showing everyone else how things should really be done.

"And you people act like this is difficult." To wit, stylishly spinning that psionic revolver around his finger instead of pressing the attack like he should, a fact that may or may not cost him — especially when the Bear recovers far faster than he expected. "How" begins the pink-haired mutant — but soon enough, the shadowy beast is smashing into the side of the mansion like it was aggressively playing a game of Rampage, sending the foundations shuddering as profoundly as Lorna had just moments earlier. The ground quakes beneath Quentin's feet, making the unprepared boy stagger backwards with the flicker of his awareness. Wait. Where did the wolf go

Quentin Quire, meet wolf. Wolf, meet Quentin Quire.



Freezer burn ices an angry path along Quentin's chest through his clothes as all the warmth within him seems to seep out until the fire in his blood is replaced with ice. The force of the impact is enough to send the slight Quire flying just as intended; he hits ground shoulder first in the puddle of dark that bleeds out into the world, tiny tendrils of fingers and hands reaching out, touching him, holding him — embracing him in all that chill until he can't even feel the sting of his cracked ribs anymore.

"guh — gnuh — nuh-no -" He feels it. He feels the way they grasp at him, pull him into the world. The way that song sings it's tremulous melody into his ear and down into his soul as a perfect complement to their touch. A sad song of loneliness. Of being forgotten, and unwanted, and maybe you should just give up Quentin, no one cares what you do, even your parents knew you were a loser, just let the end come as pathetically as you always knew it was going to b"NO!!"

Panic fuels Quentin in those brief, fitful moments of fear. His pupils dilating, his frantic cry rings out physically and mentally as his mind lashes out. Fight or flight responses ride high — and Quentin, in all his hysteria, deliriously mashes on the FIGHT half in a tremendous psychic shockwave of sheer rejection, directed and lashed out at everything — the wolf, the bird, the shadows — everything that dares threaten him with the truths he doesn't want to hear, to at the very least disperse those grasping at him in all his distraught fervor. No. No no no no no. Never again.

That was quick. Dani is damn quick with that bow.

But Nate is wearing bulletproof armor. He barely has time to reinforce it, but it is enough for the arrow point to fail to draw blood.

And there is also a psychic attack… It slams against his mental shields with ungodly force. Certainly more Nate thought Dani could muster with her very specific psychic trick. He has been underestimating the young woman. Fortunately Nate's mind-shields are also strong. There are flickers of the illusion, of Apocalypse standing on a pile of corpses made of every friend Nate has ever made. But it is weak, and it does not shock or incapacities him.

He sees it now. Dani has no… soul? Her astral self is gone!

He sees more… no, he is hearing a bird singing instead. Everything is going dark. He snarls in rage.

In the physical world. Nate growls. "You are not Dani Moonstar," then he jumps forward, trying to tackle the woman down.

In the mindscape, he responds the incoming ice with fire. Rage and fire. Igniting the Astral Plane with his telepathic power. A veritable firestorm launched through Dani's link with the Bear psyche. « BURN TO HELL BASTARD »

Marcos is -livid-.

He turns to face the wolf, his anger almost overriding his fear…he approaches the wolf, still bathed in a strange kind of light as he roars then. "YOU WILL PAY!" and he blasts almost a full body's worth of light at the wolf, attempting to push it back. To Marcos, this was do or die. He had no telepathic power..only a physical attack.

so boy…would he let that wolf have it. just a continues stream of a laser like light beam constantly burning at the wolf with everything Marcos has.

There is the moment of standing.

Staring between the offspring… Now Steed of Asgard. Blackness to the Earthen terra-hue. Amora stands with the drop of cloak behind her, the latticework of chains ascending her figure in bejeweled decollage, outlining the laced together bits of leathered mossy green, figure eghts of gold weaving up along thighs to add to the straps over hips.

Her head lowers, braids fall over shouders, pale and pearl in hue. The NightMare bows in turn as something transpires between them…

"…Ahh, and it comes in Mother Gorgon Roots…" One of Amora's eyes flickers pure white before both close and the darkness crashes in with blows on a psychic level, that is embraced and melded.

A massive hoof slams into one shoulder, knocking Amora to her back where the impact forced air from her lips that came at first as a pale fog… And then a geyser of heat and golden light!

Her other hand rises and as the trampling blows sought to begn by the Steed a frock is caught and taloned golden metal seeks to bite into Brghtwinds hock, trying to cast the blow away as she lifts from the ground without gravity's aid.

"You are no simple beast of burden! Where is your Battle betrothed?!?" And just as she had been pushed to darkness, she pushes back with a light.

That small songbird alights near Dani Moonstar. Her presence is noted, but it's not until the first notes of her song reaches outward that Dani finally reacts to it.

The smaller Bear momentarily looks to the bird, but that look only lasts a second, possibly two, as Nate makes his play.

He offers that denial of just who she is and isn't, and the Cheyenne smiles, "No, I'm not." Then the blinded Nate leaps and the woman wrapped in the cloak of a the Bear allows him to hit. In fact, when he slams into her, he'll find she's already falling backward. Her arms wrap around his heavier and taller form. The two fall backwards into the waiting arms of a shadow and disappear within.

The psychic attack from Nate Grey flares briefly to light, sending a quick sear and burn between Dani and the Bear, but that pain is only momentarily as the cold smothers the psychic fire from within.

Quentin Quire's psychic strike lashes out against the shadows and the Bear. As he pours forth with all his denial, all that desperation, he'll find the shadows retreat. Their cold touch lessens before it disappears all together. There's a hiss as the hands let go of his arms, his legs. It's a sound that can be heard on both the physical and psychic worlds.

Along with the hands disappearing the shadow that Quentin Quire finds himself in likewise reacts. It shudders and twists, twitches and turns, the edges distorting with the physical force it now exerts. That force pushes at Quentin Quire's form, shoves him even, as it strives to regurgitate him fully back into the real world. Once the young man is out of that bleak doorway it closes resolutely shut, leaving that particular shadow as just a shadow and nothing more.

Like the shadows, the Bear also feels the psychic assault from Quentin Quire. It's enough for the Bear to roar again, his shadow shrouded form slamming in rapid succession against the Mansion three more times. Each hit sending shockwaves through the walls and floors and even further down into the sub-basement below.

With that roar several red-eyed crows raise their heads upward, their attention to the Bear. Then with a CAW of their own they take wing and dart into the room that Eclipse and Quentin are in. Like black-feathered missiles the birds tuck their wings close and drop at the two men, the bird's beaks ready to puncture and pierce skin and clothes.

For all Brightwind is, he's far less right now. A shadow of himself, though that doesn't seem to impair his ability to fight. When one hoof connects another follows, and when Amora fights back, Brightwind does what other horses cannot. He takes wing. With a great beat and sweep of wings the horse quickly ascends toward the sky. Pulling himself away from the woman that pushes at the darkness with the light.

As Brightwind rises upward a shadow near the Bear moves and from the depths a woman rises. While she could answer with some type of quip, Dani Moonstar doesn't. Instead the steelhead arrow that sits nocked within her bow is loosed with a soft twhip of sound.

A second arrow follows the first, with both being aimed for Amora's heart. One right on top of the other.

The wolf glances up as the bird leaves it, but soon enough he refocuses and lets her go. He rams full-force into Quentin, sending the kid skidding into a pool of shadows… but Quire isn't exactly without defenses.

That psychic shockwave blasts outward, and the wolf yelps a high note and balks back. The follow-up blast of pure light from Eclipse strikes him dead-on in that stunned moment, slamming the creature back against a far wall. He snarls, a deep sound that rattles its vibrations around in the chest… a sound that cuts off into a shocked howl in tandem with the Bear's roar of pain. Apparently sharing the Bear's agony, that lupine shape sinks back into another of those pools of shadow.

There are a few moments of silence.

Then shadow rips open beside Quentin. The wolf rears halfway out of the dark, an apparent extension of the Bear's will, seeking to hurt what hurt the demon. Seeking to put down this apparent threat.

Seeking to close his jaws on whatever he can reach of Quentin, and sling him into a far wall.

And still hanging from its dangling perch, like a gleaning flycatcher suspended from some branch — the songbird holds its taloned feet on a low-swinging, half-bolted chandelier, holding the mansion hall in its sick song.

As Eclipse makes a reprisal attack on the wolf, the tiny bird turns its head on a twitching, its blinking black eye turned on him in first notice. Its song changes. It warps.
Wings open, the bird lets go, catching flight, a little darting black shape that circles closer to Eclipse to sing him a special tune.

The song turns from darkness to /pain/. Pure, raw, visceral pain — pain that goes deeper than flesh and blood, deeper than the marrow in the bones. Pain down into the straits of the reptile brain. Pain into the /soul./ Pain to try to pull his mind apart, pain to —

The bear reacts convulsively to Quentin — something that radiates down through all the shadow bodies of its fellow animals. As the wolf howls in agony and twists back into darkness, the bird lets go its own sharp, pained call, the song stopped, its wings hitching in the air to keep it adrift. It neither anticipates or weathers Quentin's unleashed psychic assault, and that shockwave slaps the tiny bird away, ricocheting violently off one wall and hitting the ground so little, so light, it barely makes a sound.

The bird tries to stir awake, but one wing drags half-open, injured, trying to take back to the air and failing. It is vulnerable for the moment, grounded, and so small it could fit in someone's palm. The songbird makes small, desperate calls.

Rejection. It rolls from Quentin Quire like a storm of frenzied petulance, tearing apart the psychic constraints binding panic into his mind. The physical ones soon follow, the unnatural chill of those shadows soon replaced by the much more comforting cold of the outside world as the inky dark all but literally throws him up back into reality in a splatter of retching shadow.

Darkness clings and smokes off Quire in freezing vapors as he lurches on hands and knees, sucking desperate gasps of oxygen into burning lungs. He winces as he feels those lungs swell against fractured — possibly broken — limbs. It hurts. It hurts so much. He never knew how much a pain like that could spread to -everything-.

So he doesn't let it. So he reaches into himself, and almost subconsciously reacts to that pain by just turning off his nociceptors until a comfortable numbness settles over him.

And just like that, the pink-haired youth literally kills his pain, leaving only a growing anger behind to gnaw at the pit of his stomach.

Anger dominates everything else. It swells up inside of him like a plague of locusts, devouring every other cogent thought in Quentin's head until there is just the sheer indignance of THESE THINGS forcing him to THINK THOUGHTS he would NEVER THINK. Psychic energies crackle and sputter around him like a tempest in every sense of the word as he retches and spits and drags himself back onto his feet, his blue eyes flares of teenaged rage as he levels it on the Bear in the distance. He sees the way it reacts. The way the wolf reacts in turn. He knows what it means. They're linked. They're all linked.

This would be a good time to tell the others; enact a psychic link to inform and protect them; do anything even remotely resembling what a decent team player would do. Quentin Quire does none of those things. He doesn't even seem to notice as Nate is dealt with, so focused is his querulous indignation. No. Quentin helps no one.

He just focuses on getting revenge for -himself-.

So he holds his ground out of foolhardy stubbornness as the wolf comes for him. He holds his ground as the birds sweep into the room. He feels the fundament tremor beneath his feet, nearly unsettling him — but it's that sheer petulance that makes him hold his ground -just- long enough for him to concentrate, to focus those sparks of cerulean into his palm, right when the beasts fall upon him like the predatory shadows they are. The birds land, and so numbed, he can barely even feel the way they gauge at his skin; he pushes forward, for the wolf, batting birds aside as they scratch ugly furrows through cloth and into flesh. And as blood seeps from his wounds, as he presses on in a way beyond foolish and impulsive, as the wolf's jaws clamp around his midsection —

Quentin Quire looks to shove his glowing hand into the beast's maw seconds before he's tossed aside.

The wolf might notice the presence of something stuffed inside of his mouth seconds before Quentin uses the rest of his psychic effort to try to telekinetically -shove- the beast backward.

Right into the Bear.

Quentin lands with a sickening crunch of plaster and bone in the far wall, landing limp and bloodied.

And Bear and Wolf will only have a seconds after -that- before the psychic grenade buried in that lupine maw goes off in a tremendous explosion of psionic energies.

Because Quire really is just that temperamental.

Helen… Amora… A recent trip to Asgard was needed, taken, but some Enchantment had been given, and even one eye of a pale reflection slowly regains in sparks with every blow of a woman clad in new-archaic attire with Brightwind, and after the first blow the follow throughs shared spark emerald shocks of thunder and electricity with a thundering undertone that folows the below of the angry Demon Bear.

Amora, the Enchantress lifts with Brightwind, but is halted by the shadow reformed 'silhouette' of Dani.

Upper lip recoils, a flash of tooth and a single hissed word. "..valkyrja…" It comes with the thwp of loosed arrow.

«The first caught, fingers paling to try and snap the shaft..»

The second threading through the pale strands of hair, letting them fall to the ground where she hovers just before the expulsion of Eclise's light and rage, where just before it the Enchanted crystal is hed and twisted, balancing upon /pierced/ fingertip to turn and radiate the *energy* with that of mystical, turning darkened grounds coated in a light layer of white into a return fire of light. A spectrum that rises with the form of The Enchantress.

Perhaps unseen for the moment, a thread of red descends in droplets from the toe of thigh-high boot.

Marcos looked around when he heard thoes caws! then suddenly, as if in a last ditch effort, he turns into a light show. Not only light….but an intense heat burned off him like it radiated off his whole body, burning the crows entirely should they come near him….it seems to bet he next stage of is power…but it's clealry uncontrolled.

He's just yelling away, burning whatever that light touches…he seems to be getting tired though…they took Lorna from him…and he is pissed off thoroughly.

For those that are cut by the bird's beaks, they'll feel the scratches burn, the feeling not unlike a paper-cut. It's only after a few seconds that the pain turns into something else. Wriggling. Burrowing. Movement beneath the skin. Something alive is crawling underneath those cuts.

By this point, everything moves in rapid succession.

Quentin creates the psychic grenade of his. The Wolf is then shoved towards the Bear. The Bird sings her distress and calls for aid. Amora and Eclipse bring forth the light to sear the shadows (and crows) away.

When the Wolf is close to the Bear, shadows reach out to bring him within. Not even a second later the psychic grenade goes off which causes the Bear to roar with pain. Danielle Moonstar as well.

The echoes of that grenade can be seen upon the Bear's torso, as the blackness ripples and shudders with aftershocks.

Brightwind likewise drops from the sky, both a scream of pain and rage sounding from the winged-horse. Like the Wolf the winged-stallion is absorbed into the Bear and then the crows too.
For Moonstar, before she can find her way home, she does one last thing. A staggered step gets her near a shadow and one more takes her into it. A shadow near the fallen bird twists and distorts and from the depths Dani appears. She picks up the injured songbird and brings her close. Then with one last look to Quentin and Eclipse, the woman and bird descends within the darkness.

Once all are within the shadows the Bear moves. One step and then two and then the beast is gone from this world.

All that's left are the broken bodies of dead crows and the wounded exterior and interior of the Mansion itself.

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