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A Battle In The Nightmare 241026


(A battle in the Nightmare)

[Fri Oct 25 2024]

On the Upscale Ash Street serving the Beachfront

It is night, about 47F(8C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a last quarter moon.

Kah growls with a vicious, Wrathful sound that rumbles from his chest.

Well, Irene sure recognise Kah. Sizing him up from a distance in the dream, the masked figure's only audible sound, or visible expression in response, is to click her tongue. Nevertheless, she hoists up her M4, aiming it in the direction of the golden-eyed, towering silver monstrosity.

Towering in his human form, the silver shield covers much of him even from this distance. The aura that radiates off of the man is one of anger and Wrath, whatever has him riled up seems to have put him into no mood to play nice. His form rises up into the air slowly, and the crescent moon-shaped pupils are lost in the rage that causes Kah's golden eyes to blaze like fire in the Nightmare.

Irene and Kah appear to have exactly the same intention, even if their motivations are different. She rushes him without so much as a single word -- as she couldn't speak, even if she wanted to. And so instead she aims to let bullets speak for her, eyes narrowed behind her shooting glasses as she takes aim at the distant, mythical figure.

With a sudden rush, Kah charges forward as his feet pound against the air like solid ground. Sweeping his spear overhead with a deft whirl around the base of his wrist, he arcs the blade down to swipe at the ground with an underhanded swing! A piece of debris is ripped up from the ground and without missing a step as he charges ahead he turns the blade of the spear flat and SMACKS that piece of debris to send it flying toward Irene.

It's close, but Irene manages to dodge that flying debris with a deft sidestep; she manages to see it coming when he crouches to rip it up from the ground. Nevertheless, she lets out a winded exhale, as if just to let off the steam and stress of how incredibly close that was. She tries to back up for cover, though there is none; in the formless Nightmare, she finds the vague outline of a stone structure, and presses her back closer too it. Then, she returns fire with a series of silver bullets, and when she senses him about to close in, shoots him with a much smaller sidearm; a feathered dart.

The small dart comes flying through and jabs into the man's arm. Stuck there in the smooth skin that's still as tough as the thickest leather hide it delivers the juice before being shaken off as Kah takes a pause then LEAPS forward to slam into the ground a few scant feet from Irene. His face peers over the top edge of his now-battered shield with fury as the fresh debris of his landing will go flying once again at the other combatant in a shower of small rocks and dirt.

Against the mythical god-wolf that is Kah Nhet, there's no way that Irene stands a chance in this fight. Nevertheless, she engages him very differently to the way she did when they first met, near Willow Close, no longer playing the part of an ingenue. This rabbit fights, tooth and nail, despite lacking a chance just the same. She spies an opportunity when he's slowed by the venom of the dart, and then steps forward to bite again. This time it's with steel, striking at his thick hide, and bleeding poison into his veins.

The rage burns inside the towering Werewolf, and for the moment the poison doesn't seem to hold him back so much, though in time it will do it's job. With a heavy scream that brings no sound at all - his spear rears back to lunge forward and bite into the threads of the vest that Irene wears, slashing through some of the kevlar fabric as he pulls the weapon away with a look of frustration. Kah continues to advance, as relentless as the Phalanxes of old that he so resembles with his shield and spear.

With a bitter scowl, Irene stabs at Kah, and she stabs again. Her pinprick strikes do very little against his supernatural armour, barely a mosquito to his might, but still she aims to buzz and annoy the towering beast as much as a creature her possibly can. When he tears at her kevlar, she uses this opportunity to leverage his weight against him, leaning back so that he's forced to lean with her, and then twisting rapidly to the side to send him reeling forwards.

As the smaller woman expertly used Kah(wolf)'s weight and herself as a fulcrum to give the man a quick judo throw, he'll slam into the ground with a grunted sound. Before he's even moving to get up however, it seems the beast inside has had enough of the human behind the wheel. Like a monster crawling it's way out of the abyss, Kah(wolf)'s body explodes out in a showery display of flesh and blood and bone and gore. So large is he, that he's all but standing in front of Irene by the time he's turned around to refocus his attention onto them. His maw hangs low, saliva drooling from one side as the nightmare does nothing to hide the sword-length fangs that dominate that sight.

With someone' supernatural sense of sight, even her shooting glasses aren't enough to hide the widening of her eyes when she beholds the enormous Egyptian beast. Her mouth parts likewise, to mouth some words that she can't speak -- 'Dios mio!' on instinct alone. Irene braces herself with an arm raised to shield her face, and simply tries to defend herself for as long as she can, rapidly striking out with her blade, again and again, yet with a fervency that suggests she has more or less accepted her fate, the inevitability of this fight.

With Kah(wolf)'s supernatural sense of sight, even her shooting glasses aren't enough to hide the widening of her eyes when she beholds the enormous Egyptian beast. Her mouth parts likewise, to mouth some words that she can't speak -- 'Dios mio!' on instinct alone. Irene braces herself with an arm raised to shield her face, and simply tries to defend herself for as long as she can, rapidly striking out with her blade, again and again, yet with a fervency that suggests she has more or less accepted her fate, the inevitability of this fight.

Is it the first time Irene has seen Kah(wolf)'s true form? The True nature of the Egyptian man has revealed itself now, silverwhite and gleaming even here in the shadows of the Nightmare. A single paw comes crashing down to shove and rake down with dewclaws at Irene, shuddering the earth under him as his weight comes to rest. He towers over the ethereal buildings and structures around him, those slender pointed ears distinct to his breed peeld back agaisnt his skull.

Staggered by the colossal weight of Kah(wolf)'s true form, real fear starts to creep into Irene's struggling visage. None of this is real, this is a Nightmare, and any wounds inflicted on her will soon fade away into nothing.

But right now? They hurt. They hurt A LOT. She is bleeding, and fighting, and struggling to breathe for sheer terror of the monstrous beast this comparatively tiny woman now faces.

Because for a woman, Irene is in fact tall. For a human, Irene is in fact tough; she is muscular.

For a combatant in supernatural warfare, against the likes of Kah(wolf) She is nothing. Nothing but a nuisance, a nuisance who fights in this Nightmare as if her life truly depends on it.

Kah(wolf) contoinues to savage at Irene from his position overhead now. His jaws snap down repeatedly to be blocked by determined blows and the will of a fighter as Irene continues to weather the storm while the White Wolf rages down at the unfortunate target of its ire. Every shift of his weight slams and moves the ground until he finally has to rear his muzzle back to try and re-locate Irene and hone in on them for his next lunge.

For just a moment, Irene manages to scramble away. She looks haggard, barely able to move, and this distance ends up being just barely out of reach of his claws. Her combat knife is held up in front of her in both hands now, almost as if in prayer, and in a manner that suggests her arms are too wounded to wield the thing properly, as a dancer would, in one hand for swift, deft manoeuvres. But she doesn't let up, fighting against futility to the bitter end.

This continued fight against Kah(wolf) is enough to bring a begrudging sense of respect or at least some sense of value in the way she stands there trembling, with the knife before her. He pauses, those enormous all too-human eyes of tundra blue staring down at the refusal to go down anything less than scratching and clawing and biting. A sharp chuff of his breath comes RUSHING down and in a windy gust toward Irene before he turns with a sudden shift of his body. The thick bulk of his tail whips around and slams into the midsection and shoulder of the tactical figure, sending them flying off into the dark.

Irene fades out of the nightmare.