The moment Talia's dart shot from the gun, she felt the familiar emptiness. She was out of darts. She quickly dropped down and reloaded the weapon. Her movement, though slight as it was, saved her from the projectile made from her own ammunition. The dart whizzed over her head and embedded itself into the large stone behemoth behind her. Talia doubted it broke the scales, but she didn't have time for dragon-wound-inspecting. She hardly had time to react to the attacks being flung at her.
By the time Talia had glanced back upwards, the sword-flailing-girl was upon her. Talia vaulted to the side again, avoiding whatever awkward attack that had been thrown at her. But, as she was moving, her hand caught on something. Something
hard. Talia felt the gun being wrenched from her grip. The pain of something pulling her weapon away spasmed through her hand, forcing her to let go as her forward momentum carried her away.
Talia gritted her teeth. She'd gotten that gun on her birthday. Not from her mother of course, she'd bought it herself, but the loss still stung. Her weapon, her lifeline, skittered away from her to some unseen dark corner of the street. Whoever she was fighting was smart. She had used Talia's own instinctive movement against her, and it felt like a slap in the face. She couldn't stand being so open. She wasn't a book, she wasn't readable.
Time to use your head, she told herself,
Gotta out-think 'em.
Her eyes quickly scanned everything nearby, as she reached for a knife - that wasn't there. Her eyes widened. Another look at the battlefield confirmed her fears. The Twins were having just as much trouble as she was. Uniques or not, they were practically cornered; Lyra's dragons were causing trouble nearly everywhere, and worst of all, the Harpy had pinned down the Hellish-looking canines that the Twins had tried to summon. A gust of wind blew throughout the street as the Harpy beat it's wings furiously, rendering what little control the Twins summoned with their guns useless.
Talia looked down at the blade in her hand, and looked back the the Harpy. Then she made a decision she was afraid would seal her fate. She threw the dagger. It sailed through the air, whipping around like a cruel windmill of pain, until it came into contact with the feathery backside of the Harpy. The blade sunk in, eliciting a scream from the creature.
I lose my fun, you lose yours.Talia moved. Seemingly fluid, she dodged the furious attacks of her assailant, as she hastily threw herself into the dark corner where her gun was. She landed, hard, cold, and full of adrenaline. She quickly rolled over, gun in hand pointed straight at her newest adversary.
Your move...Lucius found the alley he was looking for. Not hard, considering the copious amounts of roars, grunts, gunshots, and other assorted noises there was. The air was thick. Not with the usual smoke and smog of compressed homes, but with the smell of rage. It was a hellscape before his eyes; as swords and daggers clashed and as demons rose from the ground, only to be crushed by the hawk-like creature. It was like the gods of war and death were painting a mural, right in front of him.
A passing bullet pulled him from his thoughts. He smiled, and began his own little ritual from the shadows of the conflict.
On the battlefield, the shadows rippled and weaved once more. Darkness filled the air, and the void became whole. A scream of rage erupted from the black creature, newly formed again. The Tantabus was back. It set to work, the nearest creature to it being a previously trapped hellhound, teeth gnashing, eyes staring the darkness down with a look a cat gives a mouse. The inky void stared back, before rearing back a vicious claw, racking the creature into shreds. It howled, and perished, leaving behind a smoldering pile of embers.