Jack Ceann's Story

"Perhaps another time," Achaeos replied, "I fear we don't have the luxury of conversation for now."

Indeed, the sound of flapping wings easily caught the kitsune's keen ears' attention, "Watch the skies!" he called out, and mere moments later the bats were upon them. Fire and lightning danced from his lantern as he flitted nimbly between the searching talons of the creatures, evading their clamping jaws and sweeping his blade across in wide arcs to fend those that were not felled by his magic off.

The target of the hour, the murderer, was lost to the eye amidst the cloud of bats as he changed shape to join them in the sky. However, Achaeos could see him with more than eyes. He could sense the soul (tattered and incomplete as it was) soaring upwards and away, joining the panther woman in her flight.

"So be it. Let us run." he murmured. Turning and breaking off from the engagement with the bat-creatures as Victor rose, Achaeos broke into a sprint. Only steps into the chase, he threw himself forwards into a dive, and mid-fall was enveloped in an ethereal light. When he touched the ground, it was with paws, a swift nine-tailed red-brown fox marked with spiritual designs of white upon its coat. It darted after the were-beasts three, easily their equal for speed, at times seeming to skim the ground without fully touching it. Further, his small size allowed him to easily evade the talons of the swooping bats with agile bounds.

As he ran, light formed around his tails, shooting a barrage of fire snake-like tendrils of fire forwards towards the bat-creatures encircling Jack, each fully capable of reducing the beasts to ash, following them like heat-seeking missiles.

Maurana wasted no time taking to the rooftops, as it appeared to be where she had allies. She wanted to take the time to analyze the situation, 'What exactly kind of creature is he', and 'Where the hell did all these bats come from?, but by looking at the numbers increasing on her tail, she didn't have the time to find answers.

She was agile in either form she took, though it appeared legs and hands were going to be of more use than a claw. Each beast following had their own, and she needed an advantage. The night shade was a friend indeed this evening, as she stayed out of site behind chimneys and roof decor. They seemed to be detained, only slightly, by the numerous bats swarming their heads.

The werewolf wasn't going to get dragged down by bats, even if they were the type to rip the fur and flesh from his skin, his hide was strong, it didn't take long for them to tear chunks off his back, and it took even less for the flesh to seal the wound and regrow the fur. This wasn't the first paranormal fight he'd been in.

Maurana was fast. The wolf tore one of the flaming bats out of the sky, then tore up a nearby fire escape, ripping parts of the gothic architecture apart with his paws, finally scrambling to the roof. She was drawing herself and him away from the battle, and this was fine with the biker, it was almost what he wanted.

Jack would have to thank the fox later, he owed the fiery kitsune a beer. The two bikers that flanked either side of Jack turned tail, fighting off the bats only for one to get a huge chunk of his furry muzzle torn off and fell a few stories to land with a gigantic thump infront of Zosimos.

But the bikers wouldn't show to be weak, the werewolf stood despite the injuries he had sustained and a broken leg as he started to limp back with the vampires, throwing out his arms to slash out at the bats. "Get out of here, Zoey." The beast growled, his yellow eyes burnt.

The other biker tore off down an alley, saving his own hide. Jack snarled and tore off down the building, ignoring the bats around him, the kitsune was dealing with that little issue, stopping short of a chimney and breathing in deeply, drool splattering across the roof, blood and spit sliding down his hide.

The werewolf let out a ear-piercing howl. A challenge. A dare. Come out and play.

Perro never really LIKED Renny, but Perro didn't like anybody save for Benjamin because he was the leader, and Jack, because they were dogbros. So when the latter dropped to his knees to pray by the cross, the hellhound in his human form placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He kept his mask down to hide whatever emotion he might have been feeling, if he felt anything at all other than repose and responsibility for the shades of the departed (though he dare not tell anybody that Renny, being undead to begin with, had no such shade to guard over).

Perro never spoke much in the presence of the gang, and today's rites were no exception. With another squeeze of Jack's shoulder, Perro moved to the stone table they placed the coffin on and opened up. Naturally, whoever stitched Renny back together did a marvelous job and she looked as calm and peaceful as any of them had seen her. It was eerie.
Perro vaguely wondered if she'd screamed to foretell her own death.

He performed the usual rites involving the body, marking it with red earth and the placement of a gold coin in the corpse's mouth as payment to the ferryman. The customs that the Gae Ceann had adopted over the years were a mix of various pagan and classical traditions, and Perro took it on himself to learn all of it so he could tend to the dead in his home.
Meanwhile Benji spoke, given he was the only one qualified to as the leader.

Benjamin snatched a nearby torch that burnt a soft blue flame from one of the nearby scones and bowed his head. "I walk though the valley of death, fearing nothing. The one that sees justice will let us pass for the work we have done, amen." The leader spoke, his voice clear and strong.

Jack's prayers were to just one god. His mouth moved quietly, murmuring quickly about his mother, and to keep the wolf at bay with his mind. Scream wasn't the only one who couldn't keep control of her bloodlust. Perro's comforting made him stop, and he slowly stood and stood next to his two brothers at arms.

"Mother, Father. We return one of our own to you. The sins are burnt away and your daughter shall be reborn again." The truth was that she wasn't, Benjamin wasn't even sure if she would stay truly dead. People had a nasty habit of coming back to life around him, and he had hoped that would happen to Scream.

It hadn't. It was time for closure.

Benjamin looked to Perro and nodded. There was nothing in the crypt but respect for fallen brothers, the bones underneath their feet deserved none. The leader of the gang stepped forward and held the torch on the open coffin, the fire caught quickly and the room slowly filled with a thick lavender incense.

There was a bright blue flash of light and the fire turned a bright orange, causing Jack to flinch back and cover his eyes from the sudden source of bright light. "Shall someone speak for Scream?"

Rayan Doyle stood off from the center of everything, watching the amethyst coffin come carried in. A shame, almost, the death. Renny had been good. Ish. Marvelous job on the taxidermy. Better here than there in any case, but there was nothing to be done. All honors in death.

Leathers subtly creaked as Rayan lifted a hand to shield squinting eyes from Renny's final inferno, head bowed in final respects. Jack asked for final words. Renny wasn't as silent as the room, crackling in the coffin as she was in her final moments in this realm. A single scuffle; Rayan stepped forth once to say something.

A moment of silence passed.

Thinking better of it, Rayan stood in place and adjusted. There was a wisecrack in there about nobody being able to speak for Scream, about nobody but Scream being able to speak for Scream, but it just couldn't be voiced. Instead, Rayan settled for, "All honors in death."

Perro rumbled out a 'hear hear' to Rayan's words. He didn't have anything to say about Scream, because he really didn't like her a whole lot, and they never spent time enough together for him to form any good memories about her. He just knew her high standing like his and that they were considered the 'hardasses' of the gang. He nodded and watched the flames consume their fallen, representational of the ascending soul he knew wasn't there, but he didn't say a word.

When the fires had eaten everything they could and left ash, Perro picked up the ceremonial urn and a brush and carefully filled the urn with the earthly remnants of Scream before sealing it with a spell and wax. He presented it to Benjamin and shifted into his normal form before nudging open the heavy iron door that lead down into the crypts of the hallowed dead.

This was the hound's realm and he led the procession down to Renny's final resting place, torch sconces along the way lighting up with blue, ethereal flame as he passed, silent as the grave, pale as a ghost. They passed rooms of riches and buried servants and Perro glanced behind him. The crypts were cursed so the dead would spring to life to defend their home if anybody touched the forbidden treasure. Not to mention Perro would maul and consume the thief without a second thought.

He was a guard dog, after all, and these tombs were his to protect.

Boom.

As the battle intensified, an ominous power awakened from slumber. A beating drum in the deep resonated with the thunder of war. An ancient enchantment, long forgotten by the passages of time, aroused from sleep. Darkness, fury, rage, contempt, and accusation dripped from the air as the fountain's water rippled from the far off drum.

Boom.

The air chilled with an arctic wind that passed over the town as the ground charred and smoked like the fires of Hell. A sinister mist drifted across the earth as the fountain's water boiled. Chunks of ice materialized in the churning waves, continuously melting and freezing. The drums grew nearer like an approaching predator defending its territory - a guardian being called to arms. A sinister growl rumbled from beyond the physical realm.

Boom.

As the square became charged with burning ice and freezing flames, a powerful and unrelenting presence loomed from beyond. The enraged Guardians had come - Guardians of Fire and Ice.

Begone from this place, Trespasser.

You. Are. Not. Welcomed. Here.

Boom

Boom

Boom

Maurana slipped across the roof until she was directly behind the wolf. After all, she hadn't survived these past centuries by being noisy.

"You folk really take your blood shed seriously around here, don't you?" Maurana asked as she jumped above the wolfs head. Again, she taunted him with her foot as she stepped upon his crown during her leap. This time she crossed the street, landing on the opposite roof top.

As she crossed, she saw the fire below growing and spreading down the street. Suddenly she realized, This isn't a game.. The icy wind that whipped across her face took all fun out of what she was starting with the wolf.

The woman stood at full height, looking toward the sky. The activity of the bats didn't seem to be as thick as when they started.

Apparently, she wasn't the best judge of character, as Victor's abilities were very well hidden in their introductions. This, however, was an obvious power. Surely a source so great would be capable of merely reviving the soul that she had consumed? After all, she had buried the woman. Some morals still danced about within her personality; she wasn't a total hypocrite in regard to the life she lived before immortality.

Her survival instinct insisted upon running from the scene, but, she couldn't trust her opponent to do the same. As the authority had before stated his request for submission, she had done so. This beast chose to pursue her of his own accord, so she felt certain her presense was not the one that the otherly being was truly after. She had no plans of evacuating the town. She would, however, keep the trouble that she had caused away from the place of her sister's residence. Risika had no intentions of helping her now, as it was. If she caught wind of this mess, she would lose the contact all together.

Maurana looked to the wolf, "Are you a fan of fire, beast?" She questioned from across the street.

President Kane silently stood in the CIC with his diplomatic entourage. They watched as the Aschen military personnel were working the tactical situation. With a flickering holographic tactical heads-up display they tried to plan their next moves.

The Commander stroked his chin, then turned to his executive officer. "We could drop the prefab FOB on the square and use it to restore order. But I don't want to attract the attention of the Invictus." He said, while thumbing his chin at the flickering holographic HUD.

"Deploy FOB And secure the square." The Commander said, turning to Kane.

"Mr President best remain on board until we've secured the area."

----

To those on the ground the Reverence continued to loom high above the city, of course with it's sheer size, being a whopping 3.5 miles in length, it likely cast a darkened shadow over the town, further darkening what had already been dark. That only lasted so long as brilliant spotlights began to illuminate the square, and then there was a pause.


Hisssss Crack! The noise rang through the Hollow and the square, followed by a deafening thoom!


The ship seemed to detach a large platform on it's undercarriage, this large circular platform began to slide down it's own gravity well, and the platform itself was filled to the brim with Aschen soldiers, whom had positioned themselves behind prefabricated redoubts and walls.

The Platform continued to slide down the gravity well, before it landed in a wide open space in the square with a deafening crash.

If that wasn't sufficient to garner everyone's attention, perhaps the firing up of the Aschen Myrmidon HBT centered on the platform would. Gnashing engines and trundling treads echoed as the vehicle moved from the platform.

Perhaps this would cause a pause in the fight, while Aschen troops moved to get their bearings. A Sergeant assessed the situation, trying to see who was the aggressor and the bad guy in this situation.

A series of bikers who'd followed Doyle out, stayed for a couple of seconds later and then took the effeminate bikers lead and went back inside their clubhouse, putting a sign up that said 'Closed' in bright green. Today was going to be a load of bullshit, as was every other day.

Jack wasn't happy. This bitch was toying with him, the death of one of the members had already riled him up some, the werewolf scampered about the roof looking for a quick way across, his yellow eyes burning. Jack didn't care and neither did the wolf, the massive amounts of slobber increased as it backed up against the other side of the building and charged forward, leaping high into the air with it's claws outstretched.

It was never a game. Jack was a credible threat, just like the rest of her paranormal friends. You'd be a damn fool to not give him his due, it's why they put him a cage and threw money at him on weekends. The wolf was going to land on Maurana, it wasn't about the killing anymore, if she wanted to play games, he'd play her bloody game.

If he did, he'd put his claw to her neck and dare her to move with her eyes. If she dodged, he'd swing his claws left to right and bring the fury to wherever she went. The crashes and bangs around him didn't matter, this was a game between two beasts. The rest were fair play to the Aschen.

Maurana, once again, assumed wrong in that the wolf would take cover with the rest of his pack. She could empathize with a struck nerve; but first, she would do well to insure her own life, even if that did mean taking anothers'.

As she watched him find his exit from the opposite side of the street to her own roof, she wasted no time in shifting. The length of the claws she had seen on him was enough to reach through her chest and pull her heart out with a single stab. She needed the protection of her coat if she was to survive actual combat with the creature.

No time was wasted, before she could let out a cry, he had her pinned to the shingles. Her legs were strong enough to support his weight, their length enough to keep his body off of hers. What a stench! She swore to herself.

Maurana couldn't heave a breath, as he dug into her throat. His force drew her muzzle open, baring thick ivory fangs. As a supernatural creature, she had a poison that flowed through her body and was deadly to most upon contact. In the shape of the panther, she delivered this poison with her front claws, which were at the moment positioned against his own chest, and stomach.

She drew back her hind legs, which were supporting most of his weight, and put as much strength behind the kick as she could muster considering her position. They both seemed to slipping down the incline of the roof, which she was reminded of the flames waiting for them both. She had to get the beast off.

Her kick did enough to slid out the bottom half from beneath him, but his grip held true. Reaching around with her left front paw, she delivered a blow to the side of his face. His hide was as thick, if not thicker, than her own. She would need speed to cut through it. "I wasn't even that hungry!" She screamed, though it came out merely a roar, as she clawed at his arms to release his hold around her throat.

Jack slammed one of his clawed hands into the roof and drove his hind legs into the cracks between various shingles. It wasn't about what she did anymore, it was the frequent challenges and taunts she had delivered to him during their chase. There was a clear and blatant challenge of dominance between beasts somewhere in those actions.

Jack's head snapped back as the paw hit his cheek, delivering a thick bleeding gouge across his face, the poison was already stiffing his veins, blocking up various parts of his muscles and making them scream in protest. Jack's face turned to stare at Maurana, one of his eyes had been caught in the blow, his left iris was now a pitch white.

Things just got that little more personal. With his single eye, everything was red. A hateful hunt begun that night for Jack, as he raised a hand to return the favor, the blow went errant due to the lost depth perception, it could go anywhere from there, if it at all hit her and the werewolf lost his foothold, his left leg desperately trying to find a hold.

A shingle was torn free and fell into the flames, the wolf stared hatefully at Maurana's eyes, or at least tried as he fell from the roof.

It was that very night that Jack stumbled back into the bar, his leather coat falling to the floor and his shaggy wolf hide being dragged painfully across the floor, leaving a trail of thick crimson fluid. Everything was wrong with the way he moved to people who knew him, and even the way he was seeing things.

Jack's muzzle was coated in a thick layer of blood, his left eye was glazed over with a white viscous substance, all color was drained from the Iris and a thick gouge stretched down his chin in the shape of a panther claw. There was no amount of supernatural regeneration or healing that could fix that problem.

The werewolf stumbled though the bar, most of the late-night goers had retreated to their rooms and those that were still awake in the clubhouse were too drunk to notice the silent pining. Jack was very much a lone wolf, but he wasn't going to survive this one alone, and he knew just the person to go to.

The basement trapdoor had never been so far, his clawed hands had fallen short of every hold to help him along due to the lack of depth perception. All the wolf had wanted to do was curl up and sleep, but the poison would take care of him if he did that, he could feel the substance doing it's twisted work.

Perro knew when his brethren were bleeding.
Jack barely had to lift the trap door before the familiar masked man pushed it open. His breaths sounded hollow as he sniffed at his weakening brother in arms before wasting no time in bringing him to one of the chairs by the fire. Granted, the current size-difference between Perro and the wolfed out Jack made things a little awkward. He stared at Jack in his bad eye and clicked his tongue beneath the mask.
"What the fuck happened to you?"

It was a rhetorical question, of course. Whoever hurt his closest confidant in the Gae Ceann's days were already numbered. Perro could pick up a lingering scent as he worked, removing his gloves and placing fingers on Jack's muzzle, into the cut to numb it out and gradually heal it to a lighter scar. There was nothing he could do short of offering the blood and flesh of a god to the were...and while Perro cared about his friend, he wasn't ready for that sort of commitment. It was a communing, spirit-binding thing he wanted nothing to do with.

Instead he focused on the poison coursing through Jack's blood, closing his eyes beneath his mask to concentrate. Slowly, Jack's strength seemed to return as Perro's legs started to tremble as the godhound drew the poison into himself. He was immortal, it was nothing to suffer a little venom, but it was exhausting, and by the time he was done, he'd dropped to his knees and was shaking as if he were cold.
"It's- it's all I can do."

The cat braced herself as she watched him draw back to deliver what would seem to be a very harmful blow, if it wasn't meant to knock her head off altogether. It never came, though. As the impact busted a hole through the roof to the right of her head, she opened her eyes wide.

The beast rose from atop her, giving her opportunity to regain her footing. As she did, she noticed blood dripping from her own claws. She had drawn blood, which meant...

Curse the Gods! She spat. If killing a human citizen was so dire to these people, how would they react to her killing a respected leader within the community!?

Taking back her two legged form, she snapped her head to attention as she heard the roof give way beneath their feet. Quickly, she jumped outside of the circle of disarray they had made during their tumble, just in time to see the wolf tilt head first over the side.

Rolling her eyes, and letting out an annoyed grumble, it was obvious what she had to do in order to keep her head. Roughly, she reached out and grabbed the beast by it's mane. Positive that she had a secure hold, she launched them both to the flattened part at the peak of the building. Maurana positioned herself over him, as she slammed him unto his back. "If treated properly with a blessed serum, my poison is curable. With that said, if you wish to save your hide, you ignorant bloke, you should call to your pack for aide. I suppose a being like you will live out longer than most, but," She paused to take in the full view of the unintentional injuries she had delivered, "Well, you see the effects."

She never let go of his mane the whole time, ready to leap at the first sight of sudden movement from whichever limb he chose.

Jack was whining, his lower legs scrambling for a foothold on the wall, finding a small window, his legs kicked it in as he stared death up at this woman, Maurana. There was a hollow sniffing noise as he made sure to remember her scent, every single sickly sweet drop of poison in his veins a reinforcement to remember the pain she had delivered him.

Sometimes a man with nothing left to die for was reckless. The wolfed out Jack gave her a violent stare and his teeth were bore in a threatening snarl, drool slipping out between the gaps in his mouth. Maybe in another world, they would not be enemies, she seemed his type, just as violent, strong and yet... Merciful as he was.

The wolf struggled free of her grip around his mane, leaving tufts of his fur in her hands and smashed though the window he'd found, scampering inside and like a wild stray dog, stumbled home.

Maurana shook her head as she watched him disappear inside a window. Immediately, she rubbed her hand off onto her hip; drool was not her moisturizer of preference.

At once, she noticed movement from the air ship that floated above. She needed to get out of site, quickly!

Maurana skidded across the roof tops until she came to Risika's shop. As much as she wanted to take refuge inside, she thought twice. She would just have to leave the city, or at least, hide elsewhere until things seemed to blow over.

Just as fast as it had all started, she made her way towards the city limits.

"Hold, huntress," a calm voice cut through the yells and roars of the hour, as the small red-brown fox that had been following the chase darted across the rooftop to intercept Maurana's escape. Achaeos had observed the fight between her and the wolf from a short distance, intending to intervene sooner, but sadly unable to for... indeterminate reasons.

Instead, he took his opportunity now, standing before her in the form of a nine-tailed fox with wise, intelligent eyes. Flames flickered tamely around the tips of his tails. "Your flight does you no favours. I saw you show the werewolf mercy, I sense you are not the same cruel and malicious entity as the man who called these bats. But if you flee the scene now, you will become an outlaw - hunted, perhaps even killed."

The fox paced across, tails swaying as he observed Maurana for reactions. "Stay, face the justice that the law here sees fit. It is the honourable thing to do. Fight, or flight - both are the escape of a coward, the base instinct of the animal I have seen you are not. Both are to retreat from responsibility."

Achaeos inclined his head back towards the square in the distance, "Would you do this, huntress? You have my word on your safety. Revenge is no true justice, and I would not have this 'Gae Ceann' seek it on you for your actions."