Plotlogs
Operation Nightfall Sr Isaiah 240907
In the fog-enshrouded outskirts of Belfast, Ireland, the relics of a derelict chapel dedicated to ancient, demonic forces became the stage for a supernatural showdown of epic proportions. The air was thick with anticipation and dread as The Forged Fortune, a band of seasoned mercenaries, prepared to breach the unholy sanctum. Their mission was twofold: thwart the malevolent designs of the Eidolon by capturing the elusive vampire, Silas, and lay claim to the hidden treasures promised by their enigmatic employer, Regan.
As the group surveyed the desecrated chapel, their plans were momentarily thwarted by the appearance of JR, a key ally, who was conspicuously missing. Suspecting he had ventured alone into the catacombs below, the team pressed on, united by a blend of concern and annoyance for their tardy companion. Within moments, their fears were confirmed as JR made an unceremoniously dramatic entrance, barely escaping the cloak of darkness that had consumed him.
The Forged Fortune's strategy was executed with precision, each member playing their distinct role in the unfolding chaos. Ash’s pyrotechnics illuminated the night, Elias’s control over the elements sculpted the battlefield, while Victoria and Juniper , along with Dean’s beastly prowess, provided the necessary muscle against their undead adversaries. Together, they weathered the storm of bats, skeletons, and unholy might, with the chapel serving as a grim backdrop to their fierce determination.
The heart of the conflict saw Dean, in his towering wolf form, confront Silas in a primal clash that echoed ancient battles. Lightning illuminated their fierce engagement, casting brief glimpses of a struggle that seemed to transcend time itself. Amidst the chaos, Ash and Elias fought valiantly to control the swarming undead, while Juniper safeguarded JR’s unconscious form, a casualty of Silas’s cunning and the explosive destruction of the chapel.
In a dramatic conclusion, as Silas attempted to escape in a cloud of bats, the combined efforts of Ash’s marksmanship, Elias’s tempest, and Dean’s aerial assault as a golden eagle, ensured the vampire’s capture. With Silas subdued, albeit missing an arm courtesy of Dean’s final, visceral attack, the team regrouped, battered but victorious.
The mission was a blistering success, marred only by the destruction wrought upon the once-hallowed ground. As they prepared to leave, the first rays of dawn bathed the ruins in a red glow, signifying not just the end of their ordeal but the purging of a dark stain from the land. The Forged Fortune had succeeded in their quest, ready to face whatever challenges Regan or fate might throw their way next.
(Operation Nightfall(SRIsaiah):SRIsaiah)
[Fri Sep 6 2024]
In a desiccated chapel dedicated to a demonic entity in Belfast, Ireland
You stand in a decrepit, dark temple on the outskirts of the city of Belfast. Stone walls, cracked and overgrown with creeping vines, are lit only by flickering candles and aged sconces, casting eerie shadows. An altar at the pulpit is stained with old blood, surrounded by grotesque rat sculptures and worn carvings of Fomorian sigils. At the back of the room, towering and desiccated iron statues of Mary holding Jesus- both as an infant and a dying adult- loom, their bleeding eyes gleaming faintly red in the dim light, watching over the ritual space. The air is thick with the stench of decay, sewage, and burnt incense, casting an ominous atmosphere.
It is about 65F(18C) degrees.
There is a silvery mist that appears, swirls midair and through the haze Dean steps out - alone - strapping his armor in place, checking weaponry and such to affix them proper on his back while he bristles his shoulder like he has fur on him already. Ash's stake, that he shows, is given a glance - and just that before he nods to it. "Keep it handy."
Ash paths in with a distortion of reality, walking through smoothly. They look around to see the others and relax, glad that they've gotten the coordinates right. They secure their equipment and show Dean the stake. It's hastily made, and will likely give the vamp splinters, but... who really gives a fuck about that? They nod to Dean, sheathing their blade in exchange for keeping the stake at hand. Their nose wrinkles from the stench in the area, but they're sure that the wolves are likely feeling the same way.
Seeming to have been here for a bit already, Victoria glances about herself, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I was completely wrong about Ireland," she says flatly.
The night is heavy with the weight of anticipation as The Forged Fortune stands gathered outside of the chapel; a few hundred yards away from its walls, hidden beneath the shroud of Belfast's mists. The damp air clings to your skin, and the faintest drizzle begins to fall, as if the sky itself knows what's about to unfold.
The building looms before you like a mountain: a monument to forgotten horrors, its silhouette jagged and unforgiving against the night's sky. The twisted branches of trees groan in the wind, as if warning the group away; there's only a moment or two's chance of turning back. It's now or never at this juncture, for beneath the structure lies assuredly a treasure trove of profit for the mercenaries, devoted to Regan and his cause, and within the foul walls of this once majestic church, Silas awaits- the major key in toppling the influence the Eidolon holds.
The tension is palpable as the Pack gathers, every sound amplified in the silence: the creak of leather armor, the quiet rustle of clothing, the sound of steel and iron grinding against sheaths, the soft clinks of weapons being readied. This is it. Once you cross the threshold, the only option is to keep moving until the job is done. There's just one problem.
A certain redhead is, yet again, missing. Shouldn't he be here by now if he were simply scouting ahead?
Ash asks softly, "What do you mean?" They glance around, before adding, "Did Jay already start in the catacombs? I thought he'd meet up with us first... though he might have hyperfocused...."
Arriving in their own distortion of reality marked by a pathing of energies, Juniper and Elias emerge, a quick taut line forming out of the blonde's mouth when she notes the missing redhead, her nostrils flaring in an attempt to scent or to expel the stench of what eeks out around them. "I don't think he's as stealthy as he likes to think he is," she mentions curtly to Ash next. "In fact, I know he isn't."
Ash grimaces, saying, "I thought I could bless him when we met up... he said that he'd be more *careful* this time." Their worry is heavy in their voice as they look over the ground for any signs of tracks, sniffing through the rotten air for the scent of fire.
"When is he ever careful?" Victoria asks, amusement evident in her tone.
The way it looks like, Dean sees this all as a means of education. He remains relatively quiet, waiting there - for others to decide and chart out the directions of what to do. He does, however, unholster his crossbow to start loading in bolts to it one by one like he's loading slugs. "I'll let June decide what to do here, she's the lead." And that's his take on the whole thing, apparently.
Making his way through the dark forest with Juniper, Elias steps out along the blond woman's side. While everyone else seems to be heavily armed, for whatever reason this man is not. The man's thumb is hooked into his pocket as he looks around slowly, "Well, here we are. It has been what? A month?" And he shifts his graze upon Dean whom is offering instruction. Elias just nods with Dean's assessment, letting his gray-blue eyes drift back to Juniper.
Ash nods to Dean, trying not to look *too* relieved as they focus their attention on Juniper. "Do we wait for him, look for him, or trust him? I'm leaning towards the last one... if only because handling the Turdpriest would make things easier regardless."
The question of a certain ginger's location hangs heavily in the air for a time as the drizzle begins to increase into solid rain, pattering and adding noise all around, though this is a good thing, perhaps. It masks the scent of Wolves and Mages. It hides the sound of footsteps approaching. It provides a calming distraction, even, to the man that lurks within the temple itself. Lightning crashes overhead in the skies, briefly lighting up the area, and for the briefest of moments a figure is seen on the roof of the place, silhouetted by the backdrop of blue electricity crackling overhead.
They are tall and lean, their outfit form-fitting, some sort of leather jacket, perhaps, and for a second- less than a second- there is the impression of curly red hair atop their head as they look down on the group. Lightning flashes again, and... They're still there, only they've slipped and busted their ass and are currently sliding at mach speed down the slope of the roof towards the open window of an attached but crumbling tower. Whoops. In they go, but at least the sound of furniture crashing after their fall is somewhat muffled by the storm.
Victoria shakes her head as the figure slips, tousling hair back and forth across her shoulders with a soft sigh. "Well..." she says quietly, turning to regard Juniper. "I think we answered our questions there."
Ash curses, "Fucking dramatic *bitch*," they hiss, despite it being rather hypocritical of the flamboyant faeborn. They lean forward, wanting to try to path to him and help him, but they've a sense of discipline in them that isn't easily overcome. They look to Juniper instead, glancing back at the temple nervously.
"Wonderful. well, lets hope at least this time, he doesn't set off all the alarms." Elias says as he reaches to his back pocket, pulling out a steel hipflask, taking a slow sip from it.
A snap, and Dean's crossbow is cracked shut with all the bolts loaded in his wait. He doesn''t give a look over at the transpired event in the distance, and yet, he steps closer not long after - to stand somewhere neaer Juniper. She gets a nod, an assessing look, at that, before he offers behind her shoulder. "Whatever you need, just say so. I'm here to help - but I want to see how you handle it." Even then, his senses are alert. Spread out at all times.
Juniper casts what might be the slightest of tired dagger-eyed looks at Dean before she focuses on the chapel in the horizon, luckily just in time to catch the display of absolute cat like grace from the 'mystery' figure on the roof. She groans, slicking her hand through rain wet hair on her head and shrugs her shoulders. "JR said in his email to us that he'd be worrying about demolitions and treasure raiding. /We're/ on Silas duty," she begins, as if thinking aloud to herself and the crew. "So we've got our 'orders'. And I've got no special ideas. Let's just get down there and hopefully from up close we'll have an idea if he's alone in there or not. And if not, /how/ not alone."
Ash murmurs, "I wish I had enough of the guy to trace him, but alas. And fucking vampires don't have scents...." They flip their hood over their hair, as if it were hiding the fact that they are suddenly thinking of the many things they *could* have done to better prepare... but they also have ADHD, and a bad case of last-minute-itis. Such is the curse of bad object permanence - things don't exist until they're in your face.
"Well, I am with you June." Elias says to Juniper as he screws the cap back on his flask, letting it return to where he has gotten it. Reaches up, working his hand up to his shoulder, rubbing there firmly to loosen himself up for what is likely to come.
Silence fills the world around after that banana-toss worthy slip and slide, surely planned by the redhead who disappears into that crumbling tower after being shot through the air via the sharp angle of the roof. But that isn't important. What's important is that Juniper's group accomplishes what they've set out to do- and Ash is correct; the only scents on the air here are death, decay, and rot, but not of the vampiric variety. It's not a cold night, but it is a windy and wet one, and so the air here feels far more chilled than it truly is. Then, as though beckoned to do so by the arrival of the group, a gust of wind sweeps in from behind them, slamming open the doors to the chapel and causing the flickering firelight within to partially extinguish. Another moment of silence, and then a hunch figure, muttering to himself under his breath, appears in the doorway. It takes great effort on their part to close one door, feet slipping and sliding across the ground as they shove against the wooden structure far larger than themselves. They pause, panting, but those breaths sound far too hollow. Unnecessary, even. Then they're inching their way towards the other door, wood grinding against stone as they struggle it shut. Thus far, no one seems to be inside but them.
Ash keeps their voice low, whispering to the others, "Did Jay send anyone a picture of the guy? Did y'all see him last time?"
In the process of Victoria pulling a bow into her hands, that wind hits and she grimaces as she nods to Elias in agreement from her position a few steps behind Juniper. "Why does it always have to be cold," she murmurs under her breath with a raise of her eyebrows at the figure in the doorway. "I've not seen any pictures," she tells Ash.
"No," Juniper replies quickly and easily enough to Ash. "I'd like to bet he won't be hard to recognize."
"Gotta be that one, right?" Dean offers, simply, at the decrepit figure wandering off not far, presumably, from them. His crossbow, still in his hand, is reached for to pull the wire taught and prime it to launch bolt after bolt from his repeater. It isn't used, yet, but he does nod along deeper into the desiccated chapel. It's a wordless gesture, motioning along others first, to follow after -- or if he is pushed, likely it will be Dean that helms the chage. As it were.
Ash nods in agreement with Victoria, looking annoyed at the chill. "So, you don't think that that man was him - which is fair. Looked the part of an Igor." They sheath their rifle, pulling out their sword after all. Clearly, they wish they had more weapons - better weapons. But, this is what they have - not even a bow or crossbow. They regret, however, as their words clash with Dean's... and as they switch back to their rifle. They hold their hand, though, with their charm bracelet... as soon as people are ready to shoot, they'll cast, from their body language. "I can make him easier to shoot for a moment," they explain.
"Well, how about we get up there and stop him from closing the door?" Elias asks the others gathered with him starting to make his way towards the structure, but pausing to make sure that everyone is with him before he gets too carried away.
"Right," Juniper says again, shouldering her duffel bag up higher on her shoulder. "Shall we?" As if it were just a simple stroll to a tourist's attraction. An attraction that smells like rot and death. "He's behind closed doors, we're not shooting the building unnecessarily. But we do need to get closer. We're not doing anything any good from six hundred feet," the blonde replies with a small roll of her eyes.
"Eager beavers, the lot of you," Juniper chastises playfully.
Ash nods to Juniper, saying, "Lead on, Teach," with a small, fond smile.
Dean does move - in fact. He's moving. Very much ahead, at the place. The place that has the vampire, presumably. Vampire's place. Place meant for vampire.
Juniper would also be moving, as suggested, as commanded really, with Dean. For the chapel. The place with the vampire. And possibly Igor. Stinky place.
Victoria falls into line easily behind Juniper, seeming eager to move anywhere away from wind.
Ash moves behind Victoria, looking back over their shoulder and around - though whether they just want to take in the sights of a new country or is looking out for enemies is not clear. But, given the way they squint, they're clearly having a hard time seeing anything without lightning flashes. So, they keep close to the wolves for guidance.
Holding his hand out to the side, Elias notes, "I probably could do some damage to that structure if we wanted to try to force him out. In the heart of the storm is where I shine." The dark haired man notes to Juniper as he walks along with her.
Ash reminds Elias quietly, "Isn't Jay supposed to be going *under* it? You think it won't collapse on the catacombs as well?"
The trek towards what has apparently become the Emperor's New Temple is a steady march over rain-slickened land in what eventually becomes an onslaught of rain, an utter downpour, until the group stands before those wooden doors with wrought iron embellishments; the doors themselves are slick with moss, but oddly enough, the iron is kept in pristine condition- every inch of it buffed, shined, cleaned. There are knockers here for one who wishes to herald themselves before entry, but there are also loops for handles that could simply be pulled open if one preferred.
Through the crack between doors, that same hunched-over figure can be seen moving painfully slowly about an open place of worship, desecrated long ago and continually disrespected over the years to prevent some God from reclaiming their stake on the place. Imagery of Catholicism has been heavily vandalized, not just the acts of some punks looking to spread anarchy because Daddy doesn't love them. No. This is intentional. Disrespectful. Sacrilegious. Christ peeled from his cross to separate a crucifix, a Holiday Barbie replacing him, her makeup smudged down her face and a makeshift gagball in her mouth. The last supper struck through or painted over with drag, Trixie Mattel taking the forefront of Jesus Christ himself. Crosses casually flipped upside down, an extra line stapled or nailed through them. Cushions torn from the pews and replaces with rusty nails or bits and pieces of broken glass.
Pages have been ripped from Bibles and hymnals and turned into paper mache murals depicting hedonistic orgies and ritual sacrifices involving the flesh of man as much as the flesh of beasts. Mary prays before a crucified Christ, their eyes oozing blood that, oddly, doesn't seem to stop flowing. And all around, even through this crack in the door, everything, EVERYTHING, just fucking stinks.
Kneeling before the altar, praying fervently, is that same man, whimpering, kneeling, crying, begging, pleading with some deity that doesn't seem to care enough to listen to his cries.
Everything about this makes Victoria's nose wrinkle further, though she stays silently behind Juniper, stepping somewhat warily as she moves along. All she can do once able to see through that crack in the door is blink her eyes several times. Though her mouth opens as if to say something, it simply closes again without a word.
Asking back over to Ash, "Ummm... I think I am going to do it anyway. JR is capable and I mean, he knows I am up here. He would have told me if he didn't want me to do it." Elias says as he glances back to Juniper, perhaps looking for that last bit of reassurance that indeed, that is what the blond woman wants. He holds up his arm and electrical energy starts crackling off the quartz stones studding his watch. The lightning high above seems to respond, to the dark haired man's actions, but he seems to be holding off of something.... Someone... Glancing back to Juniper once more.
"Make sure it doesn't hit us, please, Elias," Juniper responds with the tone of voice that almost sounds like a parent finally relenting to letting their child play with that game we all know is going to break something eventually. She hesitates now from where she had been simply reaching up to the loops to open a door wide enough to slip on through. Clearly waiting to see how this goes before sending any one of them inside the weird doll house of depravity.
No words, simple silence, and totally accustomed attitude to the scent of vile defilement - Dean wanders in just off the side. Even while lightning crackles by Elias, Dean stands ready - lifts up his crossbow, aligns it onto their supposed foe. Not a kill shot - not that he could manage, Dean is an average shot. He's only ready to pin those legs down at the press of a trigger, waiting, as he said he would, for orders on how Juniper may best use him.
Ash glances to Dean, apparently trusting his aim the best through the cracks, though they also grab the rope loops to open the door... then stares at Elias. The firelight inside might be able to shine on their sunglasses *just right* to reveal the look in their eyes, but surely the shape of their mouth and eyebrows say enough - you fucking idiot, don't you DARE! But, they don't speak, glancing at the man between the crack to see if he hears - then they look at Juniper in not only horror, but *betrayal*. Their mouth is agape, and they freeze up.
"We're not trying to collapse the place, Ash," Juniper assures Ash with an eye still on the what they can make out from the doorway - only softly lifting her voice enough to be heard by those next to them. But then again, she doesn't appear to mind if they are noticed at all, given that plan A was just to open the door and walk in.
Drawing a single arrow, Victoria holds it in place, though doesn't lift her bow just yet. She looks to Elias. "I think it'd be fun to watch," she says with the shrug of one shoulder, as though if they have to do this, there should at least be some amusement.
Ash exhales quietly, looking like they have a headache. For a faeborn, they sure seem to have a distaste for chaos and danger. They take a few steps back, so that they won't be under the overhang of the entrance, and have space to move if they need to retreat or dodge. Their distrust of the building's structural integrity is evident on their face as they do so, and they glance around as they find a safe spot that will allow them to leap forward, back, or whatever to join in shooting or flee rubble.
Silence. Baited breaths. A storm gathering overhead, bunching up and centering its eye over the ruined temple at Elias's behest, power crackling energy through the air, causing hair, peachfuzz and otherwise, to stand on end, rising.
Silence. Thunder rumbles around as that lightning concentrates itself, crackling, becoming brighter as clouds bump into each other, causing friction, static building.
Silence. The wind stills, then begins to howl as it swirls around the place like a hurricane, forming a funnel.
Silence.
CRASH
someone CRASH`X BOOM@line
A single bolt of lightning slices down from overhead and smashes into, then through the roof of the temple, sending clay shingles flying and spreading electricity over the sewer water dampened floor. The kneeling man jolts, seizes, then bursts into flames as a wave of electrical power bursts the doors off of their hinges, sending them flying towards those gathered, Ash receiving a jolting zap themselves with their hand resting on the handle as it is. Heat. Static. The scent of burnt flesh. Then bats.
Bats come flying out from every corner, every crack, every crevice, some of them aflame, some of them little more than charcoal as they fall to the ground, but others very much alive as they begin to form a tornado of shrieks around those gathered, nipping, biting, scratching, wings battering Dean and Juniper across their faces as they flurry and flourish. The chapel begins to crumble from the center outwards- or, at least, its roof does.
Silence. Baited breaths. A storm gathering overhead, bunching up and centering its eye over the ruined temple at Elias's behest, power crackling energy through the air, causing hair, peachfuzz and otherwise, to stand on end, rising.
Silence. Thunder rumbles around as that lightning concentrates itself, crackling, becoming brighter as clouds bump into each other, causing friction, static building.
Silence. The wind stills, then begins to howl as it swirls around the place like a hurricane, forming a funnel.
Silence.
CRASH
CRASH`X BOOM
A single bolt of lightning slices down from overhead and smashes into, then through the roof of the temple, sending clay shingles flying and spreading electricity over the sewer water dampened floor. The kneeling man jolts, seizes, then bursts into flames as a wave of electrical power bursts the doors off of their hinges, sending them flying towards those gathered, Ash receiving a jolting zap themselves with their hand resting on the handle as it is. Heat. Static. The scent of burnt flesh. Then bats.
Bats come flying out from every corner, every crack, every crevice, some of them aflame, some of them little more than charcoal as they fall to the ground, but others very much alive as they begin to form a tornado of shrieks around those gathered, nipping, biting, scratching, wings battering Dean and Juniper across their faces as they flurry and flourish. The chapel begins to crumble from the center outwards- or, at least, its roof does.
"Elias!" Juniper calls out then promptly from within the tornado of bats. He caused this, he can fix it. "Do something about these will you?!?" She's probably referring to some sort of manipulation of air against the little creatures. Not another lightning strike.
In the meantime, of course, Juniper is just trying to swat them off her face and protect her hair. She isn't just standing there shrieking.
Seemingly impressed with the amount of power that came out of harnessing the lightning bolt, Elias looks down at his hand for a moment. A grin crosses his face and when Juniper calls out about that bats, he holds out the same hand, but this time instead of bending the laws of nature to harness lightning, this time he calls upon something else. A wall of wind coming up from behind of Elias, jetting out towards the approaching bats.
Ash's brilliant strategic movements were - unfortunately, just planning, as they were unable to let go of the door in time before Elias's insanity fucks them up, screeching in pain as their flesh burns. He didn't even wait for them! They stumble back, cursing, as the bats fly about and their hand sizzles. They hold it out to the rain, allowing the cool water to sooth the flesh - but, of course, the rain is pushed out of the way as the man blows off the back. Faeborn only have two kinds of luck, it says, and it's always to the extremes.
"You okay?" Victoria asks Ash with a concerned look to their hand, one that deepens with the arrival of bats. There's a brief sigh of relief when Elias brings about the wind, despite her general dislike of it.
The bats, bats meant to batter Dean's face, bats for Dean - they're ignored with the bestial vitality that Dean harbors at every second he exists. He stands completely, utterly still in spite of the horrendous crash - keeping his crossbow elevated, but his finger off the trigger, now, as not to miss. But of course he would, in the torrenting rise of light and noise. Green eyes dilate, pupils narrow at the increased amount of light from the lightning to get accustomed to any and all levels of it. That's enough to note the crumbling of the ceiling - and slowly, as if it all is just another friday evening, Dean starts to backtrack, and watch it all crumble.
If this thing is /actually/ coming down, then Juniper is stepping back from it as well. OR alternatively, if it stops crumbling from the ceiling and the bats get successfully buffeted away. She's going to go inside to survey the damage.
Ash looks down at their hand - it seems it's fine that the water didn't chill their wound because, inadvertently, their flesh had *melted* to the metal, and their retreat *ripped* the flesh off of their palm. Their hand is a mess of blood - perfect for fighting a vampire - and they cry out, more in pain than anger, "Fucking NO! Gods, fuck!" They reach into their sloth bag for the ziplock bag of their sanitized bandages, only to fumble and drop it. They glance up at the crumbling building, then at the bandages, before dropping to grab it before running back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
Victoria will of course, have moved backward with Juniper if she moves to do so.
That massive hoard of bats continues to bite and scratch and squeal all around until the very moment that Elias summons that gust of wind, blowing the cauldron of bats back against the blackened and singed walls of the ruined cathedral, smashing them up and causing them to fall to the ground. Juniper may enter the chapel safely if she wishes, but she may not wish, as a separate gust of wind comes... No. A summoning. A gathering. A transformation. The vague image of a man made of spasming bat bodies begins to form amongst their wreckage, walking slowly at first, materializing from the feet upwards as he steps calmly and coolly through the storm. Oxford shoes, then black slacks. Then a sport jacket. A crimson tie, straightened up by slender but masculine fingers ending in dangerous white claws. Corpse-pale skin, and a mop of slicked-back black hair that rivals the locks of Geralt of Rivia's pure white version. A single clump pf it frames his perfect features on either side, golden amber eyes scanning over the assembled mercenaries as his tight-pulled lips eventually curve into a cruel smile that exposes perfectly white fangs as sharp as needles.
Mister Corporate America. Mister Worldwide. Mister Drill For Oil. A countenance that screams he would burn the rainforests a thousand times over if it put a few extra commas in his bank account. Demure, debonair, chisled perfection, every inch of him, and pinned to his lapel? The iron symbolism of the Hand; except it's wreathed in artistic flames, that clenched fist. The Hand, but different. He pops the cuffs of his dress shirt with a soft, frustrated sigh, pats a bit of flame out on his shoulder, and then those predatory eyes fixate first upon Ash, then upon Victoria. In a cloud of murky black darkness, he disappears.
Then he reappears- behind Victoria. One of his long, clawed hands settles upon her shoulder whilst the other attempts to curl under her chin and tilt it upwards, all in the single blink of an eye. "Sickly, but the weakest of the herd should be culled for its overall health... And I need a drink, lovely."
Well obviously, Juniper isn't going anywhere just yet.
Victoria moves to recoil and step back, drawing a breath. "No, you don't," she says simply with a slight frown and a narrowing of her eyes. "I'd say I'm flattered, but unfortunately I'm not."
Taking a glance over to Ash dealing with his burnt flesh, but there is not any outwardly show compassion from the dark haired man. In turn, Elias turns to face Victoria. A swirling ball of mist forms in his hand which seems to draw the heat from the air around it, but holds his attack as Victoria is likely in the way of it. He shifts his gray-blue eyes to Dean, as if looking to him to take action in this.
What begins as a look of utter contempt for the greasy man turns into one of total ferocity when he appears behind Victoria, threatening her. Touching her. There's a snarl from Juniper only momentarily before she herself paths to behind the vampire, grabbing him by that stupid hair and yanking him back. "Thanks for being such lovely bait, Vic," she coos before she practically barks, "GET DOWN." As if it needed to be said to the other she-wolf to drop when able to. This blonde's subject of focus becomes Dean across from her now where she puts her faith next.
A grateful look is given to Juniper along with a smirk, and Victoria promptly ducks down as instructed, though not before an absolutely scathing look is given to the man in front of her.
Ash sees that, at the very least, the enemy is here. And they are *pissed off*. Around the area, small lights begin to form, each one a living, flickering flame as the area slowly, but surely, becomes as bright as day. The glare they give finds their sunglasses to be no barrier, for Mal de Ojo sees on a plane beyond, and works its magic without a care for glass or plastic.
"You," Ash growls, and points a bloody finger at the vampire - Silas, no doubt. "Are cursed. Lightning shall strike you, stones crumble upon you. Your ankle will twist, crack, and break, and dust will fill your eyes. Your attempts to flee will find arrows lodged in your wings and joints. Your body shall be weakened by dawn. Your attempts to strike us down, to predate upon us, to stand on even ground, even to flee... will shatter as the strings of fate twist around your corpse, slicing through your skin, cutting you apart. You will rue this day, if we are so kind as to let you live. You. Are. Cursed."
Just as that creature of corporate, unnatural representation of the leech-kind blinks beside Victoria -- another blink happens. It's a silvery light that erupts like a volcano from where Dean is, swirling past any and all in what can only be described as the descent of a beast of judgement, an opposing force, that launches itself at the vampire. Before he even lands on the man, the snarl that comes spilling out of him is far from a normal, human or humane larynx. It's a wolf - rising with a vicious growl that spills venom through his fangs as his back hits the ceiling, cracks everything to accomodate his size, and his maw opens as decrepit as it is to claim the man with vitriolic rage exactly as he's caught by Juniper.
Juniper didn't see nothin'.
Dean(wolf) didn't do nuffin.
Ash ain't seen nada.
Victoria wonders what we were all looking at?
Juniper notes apparently a whole lotta nuffin special. Sorry someone.
Juniper notes apparently a whole lotta nuffin special. Sorry Dean(wolf).
Victoria saw nothing.
Juniper's fingers dig into grease slicked strands of black hair, but a yank is something that she cannot accomplish against this ancient creature. He feels the tug, and Victoria manages to slip from his fingers in that moment of distraction, but it doesn't do much. Frustrated that his easy prey has fled, the Vampire turns ever so slowly to stare down into Juniper's eyes, golden amber becoming muddy amber as rage overtakes the monster. His mouth opens wide as he grabs her by the shoulders, firmly this time, no chance of escape. It would take a miracle to save the blonde from this incoming bite.
A miracle.
Or a Wolf the size of a Ford F350 slamming into the creature of the night and scattering it into a thousand pieces as that deadly maw opens wide. It's like watching melted sugar crumble, or glass shatter, the way the fanged fuck disperses himself upon impact, but those pieces soon grow wings and begin to flap about once more, a small portion of their colony trapped and crushed beneath massive paws, but not enough to stop them from doing what they please as they begin to reassemble high overhead into a cloud of chittering madness. Eyes as yellow as gold glint in the light that Ash provides, and a cackle of insanity echoes all around as the ground begins to soften and split, skeletal and dehydrated hands plunging through the earth, grasping ankles as decayed and rotting faces begin to push through the soil, mouths open and eyes empty- yet filled with hunger.
"I'll handle the Big Bad Wolf," a voice says in cocky fashion, entering the minds of all in words unspoken, but still telepathically forced into minds. "You lot take care of its... Puppies." Then that mass of chiropteran creatures descends a slight distance away, congealing back into that sharp-dressed man, who crooks a beckoning finger in Dean(wolf)'s direction with a cocky smirk upon his face. "Here, boy."
Thank you Dean(wolf), for being in tune enough with Juniper to realize where this was going. No thank you, small dick energy in a suit, for all these skeletons. Now, it's time for the blonde to become feral and protect the others from these skeletal hands the way she knows best. With tooth and claw.
As the horde of bats return to distract them from the vampire, Elias raises both hands in their direction. Crackling energies spark out from the quartz crystals in his watch, once more to nudge the winds already blowing in this storm work against the approaching flying mammals.
It's as if Dean(wolf) is reckoning, damnation that has sought to be inflicted yet fell flat of it while that massive paw in all of its claws twist upon the ground to erase the last remnant of lifelike breath from the bats underfoot. The scattering does little but enrage, and yet, Dean(wolf) lowers his head first. Towards Juniper(wolf) and Victoria relatively close- to direct them away, behind and perhaps closer to the writhing mass that began to claw out of the ground. Just in time for her to turn, too, as if realizing his unsaid meaning. It's bolstering - to slowly watch and feel the rising of a pack.
Another step carries that horrendously large wolf over Victoria, and further - off the beaten path and closser to all their mutual enemy while the ground gives way with each step. His snout cracks, elongates to hang open, spread and split with tendon and blackish blood in a hellish display of fervent vigor as that silent stream of venom and destruction perpetuall in Dean(wolf)'s mouth starts to drool down the matter fur of his jaw. Those first few steps turn into a charge, and without a single breath of time to wait, Dean(wolf) is covering the distance between himself and his adversary, mortal enemy. A blink, and he's gone into the shadows.
Erupting out from behind the newest vantage of the vampire, ascending high in a leap before pouncing right on top; tooth and claw prepaared to rend the vampire asunder in his own assault.
Frowning, Victoria decides it best to shift herself given the new threats. Anything grabbing at her soon meets fur, and oversized paws tipped in sharpened claws as she stays where Dean(wolf) indicated with a turn of her head to Juniper(wolf).
The efforts of Elias was in an attempt to stop the vampire from reforming by using the wind, but obviously failed.
In a flash of light, Ash pulls something bright out of their tiny mirror, which scampers up their hand and arm, growing slowly and hissing. They move back, towards the Pack, as Boojum emerges. She grows bigger and bigger, until she jumps down to join the fight. Meanwhile, for Ash, it's now or never - they grab their bandage, stuffing the ziploc in their bag as they grab one end of a roll in their teeth, wrapping the other around their bloody palm as their bare feet moves quickly and carefully through the mud, toes curling for purchase.
A flash of lightning bursts overhead, framing Dean(wolf)'s form in light and accentuating every detail as that Wolf unhinges its jaw and charges, the darkness overtaking the land once more just in time to highlight a flash of teeth upon undead flesh before fading it into darkness. Another flash of light burns over Ireland to reveal that, for now, the Vampire is engaging in hand-to-paw combat with the massive beast, rather than fleeing and maintaining that distance for now. Perhaps Silas feels he has something to prove, or perhaps he simply lacks the energy to move away as he had before, having sustained so much damage already and then been denied a warm glass of blood to soothe the sting. No matter; it's a battle of claw against claw and fang against fang now off in the distance as two mega-forces of supernatural supremacy duke it out, slashing, biting, clawing at one another, a pair of natural enemies rending flesh from bone as the storm highlights only brief moments of their tussle, immortalizing moments frame by frame as Vampire tears into Werewolf, and Werewolf pummels Vampire. An ancient prophecy fulfilled, perhaps, somewhere far away, as the ageless battles the ancient for dominance.
Meanwhile nearby the desiccated cathedral, the rest of the Pack faces misfortune of their own as an army of undead awaken from their sleep, gnashing rotten teeth and decrepit fingers attempting to find flesh and tear it away. Juniper(wolf) and Victoria(wolf) are mostly protected by thick pelts of fur, but Ash and Elias are men, mankind, if not entirely human, but that hardens their flesh against the assault no more than rubbing on a bit of CeraVe. someone takes a bite to the elbow, and Ash is grabbed from behind, drug to the ground with bare feet unable to find purchase in the slick of the rainy mud; and soon a hoard is upon them, fighting one another more than the Faeborn as they bicker over brains and flesh meats.
A flash of lightning bursts overhead, framing Dean(wolf)'s form in light and accentuating every detail as that Wolf unhinges its jaw and charges, the darkness overtaking the land once more just in time to highlight a flash of teeth upon undead flesh before fading it into darkness. Another flash of light burns over Ireland to reveal that, for now, the Vampire is engaging in hand-to-paw combat with the massive beast, rather than fleeing and maintaining that distance for now. Perhaps Silas feels he has something to prove, or perhaps he simply lacks the energy to move away as he had before, having sustained so much damage already and then been denied a warm glass of blood to soothe the sting. No matter; it's a battle of claw against claw and fang against fang now off in the distance as two mega-forces of supernatural supremacy duke it out, slashing, biting, clawing at one another, a pair of natural enemies rending flesh from bone as the storm highlights only brief moments of their tussle, immortalizing moments frame by frame as Vampire tears into Werewolf, and Werewolf pummels Vampire. An ancient prophecy fulfilled, perhaps, somewhere far away, as the ageless battles the ancient for dominance.
Meanwhile nearby the desiccated cathedral, the rest of the Pack faces misfortune of their own as an army of undead awaken from their sleep, gnashing rotten teeth and decrepit fingers attempting to find flesh and tear it away. Juniper(wolf) and Victoria(wolf) are mostly protected by thick pelts of fur, but Ash and Elias are men, mankind, if not entirely human, but that hardens their flesh against the assault no more than rubbing on a bit of CeraVe. Elias takes a bite to the elbow, and Ash is grabbed from behind, drug to the ground with bare feet unable to find purchase in the slick of the rainy mud; and soon a hoard is upon them, fighting one another more than the Faeborn as they bicker over brains and flesh meats.
Not on Juniper(wolf)'s watch! She's not duking it out in the mud instead of having epic vampire battles with Dean(wolf) for nothing. The she-wolf paths and bites and tears with finesse, grabbing bickering pieces of bone between jaws and flinging them ruthlessly aside in an attempt to give Ash an opening to get up and get away. Elias will get a lick and a cute band-aid for his elbow later.
Ash commands their minion with a strange chirp - and the snark, with more strength then one might expect, charges with power and rage, claws and teeth, bouncing from one enemy to another in order to push or *break* open a path. Between her and Juniper(wolf), perhaps, a path can be made for Ash to tear free of their grip and bolt behind the two wolves.
Reaching for the knife on his belt, Elias pulls it as the undead are on him. As one of the skeletons take a meaty bite out of his elbow, Elias lets out a low growl and curse, "You bastard! You got blood on my shirt!" Even though he probably doesn't adequately express that it is his own blood on his shirt. The fit man holds out his hand outreached towards the undead as the quartz crystals on it emit a pale bluish-white light and the undead starts to build up a layer of ice upon it.
Victoria(wolf) turns to Ash and Elias with a low growl, a flurry of swiping claws and snapping teeth an attempt to keep things clear as she surveys to ensure all of them are alright.
Whatever is to transpire in the epic duel that ensues beneath the thundering sky, and raw flickers of light through the darkness, Dean(wolf) is a reckoning force. Fangs agleam, claws glistening - he takes as much as he dishes out, and undead might, as it were, the resilience of the unliving, meets the vigorous warmth of a rage-fueled, lunacy induced werewolf. His fur, coarse and thick, becomes that much more ruddy over the inky mass of black with accumulating wounds, the scrapes, bruises an cuts. His blood - as well as the sickening, morbid one of his adversaries.
Relentless assault would surely dent the earth with every leap, every step cracks stone, soil, whatever or whichever torn, ancient remnant of the past in madmade brick they fling one another to. One thing that is certain is that Dean(wolf), in a battle of attrition, holds a wicked dominion while his unhinged jaw hangs like a hellhound, unfittingly large canids put to the test in every bite. The only bit of him reminiscing of a human, his eyes, they glow perpetually in the dark no matter the distance, to refract and reflect any light befalling their hue - yet the are bent in cruel rage driven to demolish the unnatural. More than that, to demolish the bigger threat to the pack fighting elsewhere.
Juniper(wolf) rushes to Ash's aid just in time to smash through a skeleton that has snuck up on the hoard and made eyes at their skull, lowering itself down in an attempt to gnaw. One threat dropped, then another, and then another, as soon Boojum joins the fray, knocking skulls off of shoulders and flinging arms around like a gorilla in a rage. Luckily that fury is focused, the strange Fey creature tormenting anything that tries to get close enough to touch its master.
On the other end, Elias surrounds himself with statues of the living dead, frozen in time- and in ice- as he harnesses his sorcery in hand, wave after wave of undead minions frozen as he simply Lets It Go, forming a make shift castle of ice around himself with every zombie or skeleton that dares get in range. Victoria(wolf) does a well enough job tearing through her fair share of foes, sending them all crashing to the ground- many, but weak, it seems, as they rise over and over again- but this constant summoning has its cost on Silas.
Each wave of the undead that the Vampire produces is an attack not taken, and soon it becomes clear that this has given Dean(wolf) the edge that he needs to overcome his foe. That staggering damage the Wolf doles out begins to add up and up to the point that, with one final crash of thunderous blows, the Vampire is on the ground at the Wolf's feet. In a last-ditch effort to save himself, realizing that his own battle is lost, Silas smirks up at the unhinged Wolf, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Perhaps next time," he muses... And then he starts to crumble into bats once more. If nothing is done, he will surely escape, and the mission will be failed.
As the vampire is preparing to escape in the form of bats, Elias does all the can do to keep them from flying away. The dark haired man calls forth all the magical might he can muster to bring forth the winds of the storm. Swooping down from the sky, a large gust of wind blows down at the little furry flying mammals in an effort to keep them grounded and easily manageable, "You have to start killing the bats! He will be forced back into his main form or risk losing too many and dying himself!" He yells over the wind.
Ash makes it to their feet, turning to the other battle, intending to cast magics to help Dean(wolf) gain the upper hand... only to see the fucker trying to flee! They curse and grab their rifle, relying on their regenerative abilities and familiarity to pain to block out the screaming of their palm as they raise the rifle to their shoulder. A wave of their hand, and the vampire is glowing, pastel flames outlining his body as sure as the sun with faerie fire. "I told you... your attempts to flee will *shatter*," they hiss, taking their shot before the man loses his human form completely.
In the nearing of their battle, it looks like Dean(wolf) is left limping. One step at a time, he's hobbling with cruel, wicked intent to the man that clicks his tongue. That open maw leading to nothing but pitch black darkness of an eternal void, an all-consuming, sun-devouring hunger is shown in how he starts to open his jaw even wider if it was at all possible --- but then, his adversary starts to change tactics. For the better, too, lest they all watch from afar and see all the fight they've endured had been for naught, and Dean(wolf) gnawed the vampire's head off. As the little winged rats starts to scatter...
Dean(wolf)'s jaw snaps shut. There is yet another growl, grrowing to a snarl, further hobbling that grows less and less until Dean(wolf) is running, and then fully sprinting on all fours with each step a miniature earthquake in his wake. First, that massive form shifts- grows smaller, chunks of wounded flesh, clipped fur are all left asunder in his wake for the momentary moment that Dean(wolf) is nothing but a man rushing, wearing nothing but a smile -- and then, a leap into the sky, and before he even takes off, it's not a human, but an eagle that has taken to the air.
He soars -- straight for the bats with talons just as sharp as his earlier fangs.
Juniper(wolf) is remaining as a wolf, minding any remaining threats on the ground while the focus shifts to batman and robin.
Victoria(wolf) remains with Juniper(wolf), looking displeased at the arrival of more bats.
Frozen bats fall or are gusted back to the ground in the wake of Elias's magicks, and what isn't frozen is quickly snatched up by Dean(golden eagle)'s wicked claws, a feeding frenzy of death and destruction until, finally, only one bat remains. Ironically, it remains upon the ground, hiding amongst the tall grasses, perhaps hoping to use the rest of its colony as a distraction to escape- but Ash has already set the sights of their rifle on that spot, and as the man disperses into a cloud of bats, Ash's itchy trigger finger pops off, a singular bullet whizzing through the air to strike into what looks to be little more than a tuft of grass left behind where once Silas laid. A squeak of pain is heard, and then a man lays there once more, broken, bloodied, beaten, coughing up coagulated blood as he digs his once-pristine claws into the soil, attempting to /crawl/ his way to safety. But the sun will be up in Ireland soon, and Ash has the entirety of the place lit up like a Christmas tree. For all of the stealth Bram Stoker's Dracula musters, it isn't enough. He's easily spotted, if not heard, as he drags himself across the rain slickened turf. That army of undead falls with his retreat, the last of them crumbling at Juniper(wolf)'s feet.
If there's one thing that Juniper(wolf) is good at, it's lots of things. And a couple of them are pouncing and taking down an enemy. With the threat of the undead no longer on the radar, that slinking worm is her target. Not to kill - as per their redheaded loved one's request. Only to capture.
Ash runs forward, no doubt along with the wolves, as they flick the safety and drop their rifle, the strap keeping it on their person. Instead, they grab their sword, hurrying to the man so that they can swing and *cut off* his hands at the wrist, one after another, foot on his back. At least, that's their intent - the wolves may be faster and have their own plans. And insofar as Ash is concerned, the man doesn't *need* hands. Or feet. Hell, if they thought he could survive it, they'd chop his head off, too.
Victoria(wolf) begins to pad her way over to the wounded man in the grass, pausing only to snap teeth in his direction as she recalls his earlier plans for her. She keeps an eye on Juniper(wolf) as she moves, bristling the closer she gets.
A twist midair, Dean(wolf) is as vicious in the air as he is below it. A bat is split in half between his talons mid-flight, another snatched by his beak, torn through and devoured beefore Dean(wolf) starts to bullet down. And it is a bullet. Fast, terrifyingly so while Dean(wolf) falls from grace. Before Juniper(wolf) can reach, before anyone can - Dean(wolf) pummels into the ground above the man and what ensues isn't a small drop -- but a massive crater of dust risen, mud thrown, and a roaring snarl as that eagle is no more. Dean(wolf) shifts straight into wolf, with a paw placed above their fallen foe, pressing the vampire to the ground with relentless hate and aggression molded in the shape of a canine.
He throws his head back -- lets loose a howl to the sky, at the waxing crescent moon hanging just far enough to disappear soon in the distance, and it sounds ferociously hungry. Lost in a madness of his own make and embrace. Then, slowly, his head begins to drop. Maw angled towards the fallen adversary he keeps underclaw, while that jaw elongates again, starts to crack and pop and open up to his ears while he gets closer like he means to devour the vampire whole in a single, wicked swallow.
Juniper(wolf)'s pounce, apparently uneeded, still brings her to flank the prey as the pack hunts as one tonight. With package secured she too joins the chorus with Dean(wolf).
While the others work to capture the vampire, too many chefs ruin the soup so Elias just stays back and inspects his tore shirt that is stained in his own blood with frowning disappointment at the damage, "Italian silk." He says with a low groan.
Ash starts their own war cry, not bothering to try and lamely emulate a howl - but then they stop short. They glance back at Juniper(wolf) before they hiss Dean(wolf), sounding as if they already regret it, "Dean - we're supposed to leave him alive - undestroyed. And he'll probably make you sick. Just his hands and feet?" They hope the compromise will convince him, but they know that they're not a wolf, not part of his Pack, and so they hold their breath.
All according to plan. Perfectly timed. "AWOOOOOOO!!!" comes the familiar, if humanoid, howl of JR from behind his Pack as he bolts out of the even-more-ruined cathedral, a strange device in hand. He's grinning from freckled ear to freckled ear as he runs as fast as he can. Too fast. He trips, and that device is smooshed beneath his chest as he tries to catch himself.
Beep
Beep
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
"... Oh shit," says that mix of Brummie and Boston that tinges his accent, and he struggles to his feet as he tries to run again, faster this time, that device beeping faster and faster and faster until-
KABOOM!!
The cathedral behind them all blows itself into smithereens, rubble and shrapnel flying all over the place as he joins the rest of the group, beaming down at the captured Silas beneath Dean(wolf), about to say something, maybe a positive note, or a speech on how great they are all as a team, or /preening/ over the fact that he doesn't have to be carried this time. But he doesn't get it out. A massive brick of stone flies forth from the explosion, striking the redhead upside, well, his red head. He stumbles, looks confused, holds yup a finger like he's about to make a point or say 'I'm okay'. Then he drops like a sack of fucking potatoes, unconscious in the mud as the temple, or what's left of it, caves in on itself in a smouldering fire that sends black smoke pluming up into the air.
He was so close. The poor guy.
Meanwhile, just on the side, lowering above a poor vampire, Dean(wolf) is disturbed by the explosion, yet unstirred, unmoved. He remains as he is while embers fall all across, and it seems just enough to stop Dean(wolf) from what was about to do to his prey. Green eyes tilt upon Ash, stare, burrow into him with an intensity that belies his hunger, wrapped around a snarl that slowly grows and grows -- until he rams into the man. Fangs dig in, crunch, crack, and the vampire is shaken like a ragdoll. Thankfully, vampires can take a punishment, quite the deadly amount of it - something that Dean(wolf) seems keenly aware of while he chucks the body straight at Ash, for him to catch or topple under. Only thing missing is its whole arm, up to the shoulder, cleanly torn off - and now lost in a crunch of bone while Dean(wolf) chews it like a chew toy, then swallows it whole. The fallen over someone gets a huff through his nostrils, from that respectable distance, and without any words, not that he could formulate any, Dean(wolf) starts to stalk off towards the rubble - likely to dig out his clothes before their eventual, marry return home.
Meanwhile, just on the side, lowering above a poor vampire, Dean(wolf) is disturbed by the explosion, yet unstirred, unmoved. He remains as he is while embers fall all across, and it seems just enough to stop Dean(wolf) from what was about to do to his prey. Green eyes tilt upon Ash, stare, burrow into him with an intensity that belies his hunger, wrapped around a snarl that slowly grows and grows -- until he rams into the man. Fangs dig in, crunch, crack, and the vampire is shaken like a ragdoll. Thankfully, vampires can take a punishment, quite the deadly amount of it.
Something that Dean(wolf) seems keenly aware of while he chucks the body straight at Ash, for him to catch or topple under. Only thing missing is its whole arm, up to the shoulder, cleanly torn off - and now lost in a crunch of bone while Dean(wolf) chews it like a chew toy, then swallows it whole. The fallen over redhead gets a huff through his nostrils, from that respectable distance, and without any words, not that he could formulate any, Dean(wolf) starts to stalk off towards the rubble - likely to dig out his clothes before their eventual, marry return home.
Victoria(wolf) shakes her head back and forth with a soft huff of amusement as she turns to regard JR momentarily, a stare given to Dean(wolf) as he chews on an arm with the twitch of one eye and the drop of her tail.
Poor JR... at least Juniper(wolf) stoops to nudge him gently with her muzzle, licking his face with her hideously odoured muddy skeleton tongue while Dean(wolf) searches for his clothes and Ash gets pummeled with a vampire body that looks like a weird barbie found at the bottom of a garage sale box in a dark corner.
Ash stops trying to bring reason to the powerful wolf, and instead rushes over to their beloved, looking over the wound. They grab their medical supplies and gets to work, figuring out if he can be moved before they lift his head onto their lap to start work cleaning him up and ensuring he makes it back to the clinic alive. "If you had fucking BEEN HERE to MEET us you fucking DRAMA QUEEN, I'd have *BLESSED* you, you fucking- fucking - fucking *chili pepper*-" And then *they* get a fucking brick thrown into *their* face... so long as you call a vampire a *brick*. They probably curse, but it's drowned behind the loud *THUMP* of flesh as it bowls them over. All that's left for the wolves to see is two mostly bare brown legs kicking and struggling... and probably thanking Dean for his *kindness*, no doubt, in listening and *only* giving them this much of a scolding for daring talk back to him.
Ash turns into a spritely counterculture androgyne.
Ash keeps their clothes on.
Juniper eventually turns back into a human because... opposable thumbs and speaking is good. She also finds her clothes and gets changed because naked out here in the bat guano mud is bad.
The ginger-haired moron does, eventually, stir back to consciousness with Ash's help, though it wouldn't be until they were on the path back to town. He's going to have a decent-sized goose egg on his head for a while, depending on how fast his body feels like healing itself. That being said, he isn't dead, and he's definitely not dying, which is a far cry from his last attempt at a solo side quest whilst his friends handled the scary parts of one of his 'jobs'. But finished, the job is, the Vampire, Silas, captured and mostly in one piece, and his chapel to Regan utterly destroyed, left in smithereens by the dynamite laced about the place. Hopefully the loot made it out in mostly one piece, too.
A rousing success, truly, as Ash lay pinned beneath a half-dead Vampire and Elias mourns his Italian silk.
The rain continues to pour down overhead as the sun starts to peak over Ireland, rising in the east and casting proper, reddish-hued light over the land, now cleansed of not only undead influence, but of the influence of that demonic Eidolon the group so valiantly fights against. And, would you look at that: Dean didn't even pull the wrong lever. Miracle upon miracle.
Now all that's left to do is journey home, split the loot, and figure out what the group is going to do next to meddle in the plans of JR's father; and take a long, much-needed bath. Maybe even sleep!
FIN.
"I feel dirty," Victoria muses.
Juniper says "No comment."
As the group surveyed the desecrated chapel, their plans were momentarily thwarted by the appearance of JR, a key ally, who was conspicuously missing. Suspecting he had ventured alone into the catacombs below, the team pressed on, united by a blend of concern and annoyance for their tardy companion. Within moments, their fears were confirmed as JR made an unceremoniously dramatic entrance, barely escaping the cloak of darkness that had consumed him.
The Forged Fortune's strategy was executed with precision, each member playing their distinct role in the unfolding chaos. Ash’s pyrotechnics illuminated the night, Elias’s control over the elements sculpted the battlefield, while Victoria and Juniper , along with Dean’s beastly prowess, provided the necessary muscle against their undead adversaries. Together, they weathered the storm of bats, skeletons, and unholy might, with the chapel serving as a grim backdrop to their fierce determination.
The heart of the conflict saw Dean, in his towering wolf form, confront Silas in a primal clash that echoed ancient battles. Lightning illuminated their fierce engagement, casting brief glimpses of a struggle that seemed to transcend time itself. Amidst the chaos, Ash and Elias fought valiantly to control the swarming undead, while Juniper safeguarded JR’s unconscious form, a casualty of Silas’s cunning and the explosive destruction of the chapel.
In a dramatic conclusion, as Silas attempted to escape in a cloud of bats, the combined efforts of Ash’s marksmanship, Elias’s tempest, and Dean’s aerial assault as a golden eagle, ensured the vampire’s capture. With Silas subdued, albeit missing an arm courtesy of Dean’s final, visceral attack, the team regrouped, battered but victorious.
The mission was a blistering success, marred only by the destruction wrought upon the once-hallowed ground. As they prepared to leave, the first rays of dawn bathed the ruins in a red glow, signifying not just the end of their ordeal but the purging of a dark stain from the land. The Forged Fortune had succeeded in their quest, ready to face whatever challenges Regan or fate might throw their way next.
(Operation Nightfall(SRIsaiah):SRIsaiah)
[Fri Sep 6 2024]
In a desiccated chapel dedicated to a demonic entity in Belfast, Ireland
You stand in a decrepit, dark temple on the outskirts of the city of Belfast. Stone walls, cracked and overgrown with creeping vines, are lit only by flickering candles and aged sconces, casting eerie shadows. An altar at the pulpit is stained with old blood, surrounded by grotesque rat sculptures and worn carvings of Fomorian sigils. At the back of the room, towering and desiccated iron statues of Mary holding Jesus- both as an infant and a dying adult- loom, their bleeding eyes gleaming faintly red in the dim light, watching over the ritual space. The air is thick with the stench of decay, sewage, and burnt incense, casting an ominous atmosphere.
It is about 65F(18C) degrees.
There is a silvery mist that appears, swirls midair and through the haze Dean steps out - alone - strapping his armor in place, checking weaponry and such to affix them proper on his back while he bristles his shoulder like he has fur on him already. Ash's stake, that he shows, is given a glance - and just that before he nods to it. "Keep it handy."
Ash paths in with a distortion of reality, walking through smoothly. They look around to see the others and relax, glad that they've gotten the coordinates right. They secure their equipment and show Dean the stake. It's hastily made, and will likely give the vamp splinters, but... who really gives a fuck about that? They nod to Dean, sheathing their blade in exchange for keeping the stake at hand. Their nose wrinkles from the stench in the area, but they're sure that the wolves are likely feeling the same way.
Seeming to have been here for a bit already, Victoria glances about herself, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I was completely wrong about Ireland," she says flatly.
The night is heavy with the weight of anticipation as The Forged Fortune stands gathered outside of the chapel; a few hundred yards away from its walls, hidden beneath the shroud of Belfast's mists. The damp air clings to your skin, and the faintest drizzle begins to fall, as if the sky itself knows what's about to unfold.
The building looms before you like a mountain: a monument to forgotten horrors, its silhouette jagged and unforgiving against the night's sky. The twisted branches of trees groan in the wind, as if warning the group away; there's only a moment or two's chance of turning back. It's now or never at this juncture, for beneath the structure lies assuredly a treasure trove of profit for the mercenaries, devoted to Regan and his cause, and within the foul walls of this once majestic church, Silas awaits- the major key in toppling the influence the Eidolon holds.
The tension is palpable as the Pack gathers, every sound amplified in the silence: the creak of leather armor, the quiet rustle of clothing, the sound of steel and iron grinding against sheaths, the soft clinks of weapons being readied. This is it. Once you cross the threshold, the only option is to keep moving until the job is done. There's just one problem.
A certain redhead is, yet again, missing. Shouldn't he be here by now if he were simply scouting ahead?
Ash asks softly, "What do you mean?" They glance around, before adding, "Did Jay already start in the catacombs? I thought he'd meet up with us first... though he might have hyperfocused...."
Arriving in their own distortion of reality marked by a pathing of energies, Juniper and Elias emerge, a quick taut line forming out of the blonde's mouth when she notes the missing redhead, her nostrils flaring in an attempt to scent or to expel the stench of what eeks out around them. "I don't think he's as stealthy as he likes to think he is," she mentions curtly to Ash next. "In fact, I know he isn't."
Ash grimaces, saying, "I thought I could bless him when we met up... he said that he'd be more *careful* this time." Their worry is heavy in their voice as they look over the ground for any signs of tracks, sniffing through the rotten air for the scent of fire.
"When is he ever careful?" Victoria asks, amusement evident in her tone.
The way it looks like, Dean sees this all as a means of education. He remains relatively quiet, waiting there - for others to decide and chart out the directions of what to do. He does, however, unholster his crossbow to start loading in bolts to it one by one like he's loading slugs. "I'll let June decide what to do here, she's the lead." And that's his take on the whole thing, apparently.
Making his way through the dark forest with Juniper, Elias steps out along the blond woman's side. While everyone else seems to be heavily armed, for whatever reason this man is not. The man's thumb is hooked into his pocket as he looks around slowly, "Well, here we are. It has been what? A month?" And he shifts his graze upon Dean whom is offering instruction. Elias just nods with Dean's assessment, letting his gray-blue eyes drift back to Juniper.
Ash nods to Dean, trying not to look *too* relieved as they focus their attention on Juniper. "Do we wait for him, look for him, or trust him? I'm leaning towards the last one... if only because handling the Turdpriest would make things easier regardless."
The question of a certain ginger's location hangs heavily in the air for a time as the drizzle begins to increase into solid rain, pattering and adding noise all around, though this is a good thing, perhaps. It masks the scent of Wolves and Mages. It hides the sound of footsteps approaching. It provides a calming distraction, even, to the man that lurks within the temple itself. Lightning crashes overhead in the skies, briefly lighting up the area, and for the briefest of moments a figure is seen on the roof of the place, silhouetted by the backdrop of blue electricity crackling overhead.
They are tall and lean, their outfit form-fitting, some sort of leather jacket, perhaps, and for a second- less than a second- there is the impression of curly red hair atop their head as they look down on the group. Lightning flashes again, and... They're still there, only they've slipped and busted their ass and are currently sliding at mach speed down the slope of the roof towards the open window of an attached but crumbling tower. Whoops. In they go, but at least the sound of furniture crashing after their fall is somewhat muffled by the storm.
Victoria shakes her head as the figure slips, tousling hair back and forth across her shoulders with a soft sigh. "Well..." she says quietly, turning to regard Juniper. "I think we answered our questions there."
Ash curses, "Fucking dramatic *bitch*," they hiss, despite it being rather hypocritical of the flamboyant faeborn. They lean forward, wanting to try to path to him and help him, but they've a sense of discipline in them that isn't easily overcome. They look to Juniper instead, glancing back at the temple nervously.
"Wonderful. well, lets hope at least this time, he doesn't set off all the alarms." Elias says as he reaches to his back pocket, pulling out a steel hipflask, taking a slow sip from it.
A snap, and Dean's crossbow is cracked shut with all the bolts loaded in his wait. He doesn''t give a look over at the transpired event in the distance, and yet, he steps closer not long after - to stand somewhere neaer Juniper. She gets a nod, an assessing look, at that, before he offers behind her shoulder. "Whatever you need, just say so. I'm here to help - but I want to see how you handle it." Even then, his senses are alert. Spread out at all times.
Juniper casts what might be the slightest of tired dagger-eyed looks at Dean before she focuses on the chapel in the horizon, luckily just in time to catch the display of absolute cat like grace from the 'mystery' figure on the roof. She groans, slicking her hand through rain wet hair on her head and shrugs her shoulders. "JR said in his email to us that he'd be worrying about demolitions and treasure raiding. /We're/ on Silas duty," she begins, as if thinking aloud to herself and the crew. "So we've got our 'orders'. And I've got no special ideas. Let's just get down there and hopefully from up close we'll have an idea if he's alone in there or not. And if not, /how/ not alone."
Ash murmurs, "I wish I had enough of the guy to trace him, but alas. And fucking vampires don't have scents...." They flip their hood over their hair, as if it were hiding the fact that they are suddenly thinking of the many things they *could* have done to better prepare... but they also have ADHD, and a bad case of last-minute-itis. Such is the curse of bad object permanence - things don't exist until they're in your face.
"Well, I am with you June." Elias says to Juniper as he screws the cap back on his flask, letting it return to where he has gotten it. Reaches up, working his hand up to his shoulder, rubbing there firmly to loosen himself up for what is likely to come.
Silence fills the world around after that banana-toss worthy slip and slide, surely planned by the redhead who disappears into that crumbling tower after being shot through the air via the sharp angle of the roof. But that isn't important. What's important is that Juniper's group accomplishes what they've set out to do- and Ash is correct; the only scents on the air here are death, decay, and rot, but not of the vampiric variety. It's not a cold night, but it is a windy and wet one, and so the air here feels far more chilled than it truly is. Then, as though beckoned to do so by the arrival of the group, a gust of wind sweeps in from behind them, slamming open the doors to the chapel and causing the flickering firelight within to partially extinguish. Another moment of silence, and then a hunch figure, muttering to himself under his breath, appears in the doorway. It takes great effort on their part to close one door, feet slipping and sliding across the ground as they shove against the wooden structure far larger than themselves. They pause, panting, but those breaths sound far too hollow. Unnecessary, even. Then they're inching their way towards the other door, wood grinding against stone as they struggle it shut. Thus far, no one seems to be inside but them.
Ash keeps their voice low, whispering to the others, "Did Jay send anyone a picture of the guy? Did y'all see him last time?"
In the process of Victoria pulling a bow into her hands, that wind hits and she grimaces as she nods to Elias in agreement from her position a few steps behind Juniper. "Why does it always have to be cold," she murmurs under her breath with a raise of her eyebrows at the figure in the doorway. "I've not seen any pictures," she tells Ash.
"No," Juniper replies quickly and easily enough to Ash. "I'd like to bet he won't be hard to recognize."
"Gotta be that one, right?" Dean offers, simply, at the decrepit figure wandering off not far, presumably, from them. His crossbow, still in his hand, is reached for to pull the wire taught and prime it to launch bolt after bolt from his repeater. It isn't used, yet, but he does nod along deeper into the desiccated chapel. It's a wordless gesture, motioning along others first, to follow after -- or if he is pushed, likely it will be Dean that helms the chage. As it were.
Ash nods in agreement with Victoria, looking annoyed at the chill. "So, you don't think that that man was him - which is fair. Looked the part of an Igor." They sheath their rifle, pulling out their sword after all. Clearly, they wish they had more weapons - better weapons. But, this is what they have - not even a bow or crossbow. They regret, however, as their words clash with Dean's... and as they switch back to their rifle. They hold their hand, though, with their charm bracelet... as soon as people are ready to shoot, they'll cast, from their body language. "I can make him easier to shoot for a moment," they explain.
"Well, how about we get up there and stop him from closing the door?" Elias asks the others gathered with him starting to make his way towards the structure, but pausing to make sure that everyone is with him before he gets too carried away.
"Right," Juniper says again, shouldering her duffel bag up higher on her shoulder. "Shall we?" As if it were just a simple stroll to a tourist's attraction. An attraction that smells like rot and death. "He's behind closed doors, we're not shooting the building unnecessarily. But we do need to get closer. We're not doing anything any good from six hundred feet," the blonde replies with a small roll of her eyes.
"Eager beavers, the lot of you," Juniper chastises playfully.
Ash nods to Juniper, saying, "Lead on, Teach," with a small, fond smile.
Dean does move - in fact. He's moving. Very much ahead, at the place. The place that has the vampire, presumably. Vampire's place. Place meant for vampire.
Juniper would also be moving, as suggested, as commanded really, with Dean. For the chapel. The place with the vampire. And possibly Igor. Stinky place.
Victoria falls into line easily behind Juniper, seeming eager to move anywhere away from wind.
Ash moves behind Victoria, looking back over their shoulder and around - though whether they just want to take in the sights of a new country or is looking out for enemies is not clear. But, given the way they squint, they're clearly having a hard time seeing anything without lightning flashes. So, they keep close to the wolves for guidance.
Holding his hand out to the side, Elias notes, "I probably could do some damage to that structure if we wanted to try to force him out. In the heart of the storm is where I shine." The dark haired man notes to Juniper as he walks along with her.
Ash reminds Elias quietly, "Isn't Jay supposed to be going *under* it? You think it won't collapse on the catacombs as well?"
The trek towards what has apparently become the Emperor's New Temple is a steady march over rain-slickened land in what eventually becomes an onslaught of rain, an utter downpour, until the group stands before those wooden doors with wrought iron embellishments; the doors themselves are slick with moss, but oddly enough, the iron is kept in pristine condition- every inch of it buffed, shined, cleaned. There are knockers here for one who wishes to herald themselves before entry, but there are also loops for handles that could simply be pulled open if one preferred.
Through the crack between doors, that same hunched-over figure can be seen moving painfully slowly about an open place of worship, desecrated long ago and continually disrespected over the years to prevent some God from reclaiming their stake on the place. Imagery of Catholicism has been heavily vandalized, not just the acts of some punks looking to spread anarchy because Daddy doesn't love them. No. This is intentional. Disrespectful. Sacrilegious. Christ peeled from his cross to separate a crucifix, a Holiday Barbie replacing him, her makeup smudged down her face and a makeshift gagball in her mouth. The last supper struck through or painted over with drag, Trixie Mattel taking the forefront of Jesus Christ himself. Crosses casually flipped upside down, an extra line stapled or nailed through them. Cushions torn from the pews and replaces with rusty nails or bits and pieces of broken glass.
Pages have been ripped from Bibles and hymnals and turned into paper mache murals depicting hedonistic orgies and ritual sacrifices involving the flesh of man as much as the flesh of beasts. Mary prays before a crucified Christ, their eyes oozing blood that, oddly, doesn't seem to stop flowing. And all around, even through this crack in the door, everything, EVERYTHING, just fucking stinks.
Kneeling before the altar, praying fervently, is that same man, whimpering, kneeling, crying, begging, pleading with some deity that doesn't seem to care enough to listen to his cries.
Everything about this makes Victoria's nose wrinkle further, though she stays silently behind Juniper, stepping somewhat warily as she moves along. All she can do once able to see through that crack in the door is blink her eyes several times. Though her mouth opens as if to say something, it simply closes again without a word.
Asking back over to Ash, "Ummm... I think I am going to do it anyway. JR is capable and I mean, he knows I am up here. He would have told me if he didn't want me to do it." Elias says as he glances back to Juniper, perhaps looking for that last bit of reassurance that indeed, that is what the blond woman wants. He holds up his arm and electrical energy starts crackling off the quartz stones studding his watch. The lightning high above seems to respond, to the dark haired man's actions, but he seems to be holding off of something.... Someone... Glancing back to Juniper once more.
"Make sure it doesn't hit us, please, Elias," Juniper responds with the tone of voice that almost sounds like a parent finally relenting to letting their child play with that game we all know is going to break something eventually. She hesitates now from where she had been simply reaching up to the loops to open a door wide enough to slip on through. Clearly waiting to see how this goes before sending any one of them inside the weird doll house of depravity.
No words, simple silence, and totally accustomed attitude to the scent of vile defilement - Dean wanders in just off the side. Even while lightning crackles by Elias, Dean stands ready - lifts up his crossbow, aligns it onto their supposed foe. Not a kill shot - not that he could manage, Dean is an average shot. He's only ready to pin those legs down at the press of a trigger, waiting, as he said he would, for orders on how Juniper may best use him.
Ash glances to Dean, apparently trusting his aim the best through the cracks, though they also grab the rope loops to open the door... then stares at Elias. The firelight inside might be able to shine on their sunglasses *just right* to reveal the look in their eyes, but surely the shape of their mouth and eyebrows say enough - you fucking idiot, don't you DARE! But, they don't speak, glancing at the man between the crack to see if he hears - then they look at Juniper in not only horror, but *betrayal*. Their mouth is agape, and they freeze up.
"We're not trying to collapse the place, Ash," Juniper assures Ash with an eye still on the what they can make out from the doorway - only softly lifting her voice enough to be heard by those next to them. But then again, she doesn't appear to mind if they are noticed at all, given that plan A was just to open the door and walk in.
Drawing a single arrow, Victoria holds it in place, though doesn't lift her bow just yet. She looks to Elias. "I think it'd be fun to watch," she says with the shrug of one shoulder, as though if they have to do this, there should at least be some amusement.
Ash exhales quietly, looking like they have a headache. For a faeborn, they sure seem to have a distaste for chaos and danger. They take a few steps back, so that they won't be under the overhang of the entrance, and have space to move if they need to retreat or dodge. Their distrust of the building's structural integrity is evident on their face as they do so, and they glance around as they find a safe spot that will allow them to leap forward, back, or whatever to join in shooting or flee rubble.
Silence. Baited breaths. A storm gathering overhead, bunching up and centering its eye over the ruined temple at Elias's behest, power crackling energy through the air, causing hair, peachfuzz and otherwise, to stand on end, rising.
Silence. Thunder rumbles around as that lightning concentrates itself, crackling, becoming brighter as clouds bump into each other, causing friction, static building.
Silence. The wind stills, then begins to howl as it swirls around the place like a hurricane, forming a funnel.
Silence.
CRASH
someone CRASH`X BOOM@line
A single bolt of lightning slices down from overhead and smashes into, then through the roof of the temple, sending clay shingles flying and spreading electricity over the sewer water dampened floor. The kneeling man jolts, seizes, then bursts into flames as a wave of electrical power bursts the doors off of their hinges, sending them flying towards those gathered, Ash receiving a jolting zap themselves with their hand resting on the handle as it is. Heat. Static. The scent of burnt flesh. Then bats.
Bats come flying out from every corner, every crack, every crevice, some of them aflame, some of them little more than charcoal as they fall to the ground, but others very much alive as they begin to form a tornado of shrieks around those gathered, nipping, biting, scratching, wings battering Dean and Juniper across their faces as they flurry and flourish. The chapel begins to crumble from the center outwards- or, at least, its roof does.
Silence. Baited breaths. A storm gathering overhead, bunching up and centering its eye over the ruined temple at Elias's behest, power crackling energy through the air, causing hair, peachfuzz and otherwise, to stand on end, rising.
Silence. Thunder rumbles around as that lightning concentrates itself, crackling, becoming brighter as clouds bump into each other, causing friction, static building.
Silence. The wind stills, then begins to howl as it swirls around the place like a hurricane, forming a funnel.
Silence.
CRASH
CRASH`X BOOM
A single bolt of lightning slices down from overhead and smashes into, then through the roof of the temple, sending clay shingles flying and spreading electricity over the sewer water dampened floor. The kneeling man jolts, seizes, then bursts into flames as a wave of electrical power bursts the doors off of their hinges, sending them flying towards those gathered, Ash receiving a jolting zap themselves with their hand resting on the handle as it is. Heat. Static. The scent of burnt flesh. Then bats.
Bats come flying out from every corner, every crack, every crevice, some of them aflame, some of them little more than charcoal as they fall to the ground, but others very much alive as they begin to form a tornado of shrieks around those gathered, nipping, biting, scratching, wings battering Dean and Juniper across their faces as they flurry and flourish. The chapel begins to crumble from the center outwards- or, at least, its roof does.
"Elias!" Juniper calls out then promptly from within the tornado of bats. He caused this, he can fix it. "Do something about these will you?!?" She's probably referring to some sort of manipulation of air against the little creatures. Not another lightning strike.
In the meantime, of course, Juniper is just trying to swat them off her face and protect her hair. She isn't just standing there shrieking.
Seemingly impressed with the amount of power that came out of harnessing the lightning bolt, Elias looks down at his hand for a moment. A grin crosses his face and when Juniper calls out about that bats, he holds out the same hand, but this time instead of bending the laws of nature to harness lightning, this time he calls upon something else. A wall of wind coming up from behind of Elias, jetting out towards the approaching bats.
Ash's brilliant strategic movements were - unfortunately, just planning, as they were unable to let go of the door in time before Elias's insanity fucks them up, screeching in pain as their flesh burns. He didn't even wait for them! They stumble back, cursing, as the bats fly about and their hand sizzles. They hold it out to the rain, allowing the cool water to sooth the flesh - but, of course, the rain is pushed out of the way as the man blows off the back. Faeborn only have two kinds of luck, it says, and it's always to the extremes.
"You okay?" Victoria asks Ash with a concerned look to their hand, one that deepens with the arrival of bats. There's a brief sigh of relief when Elias brings about the wind, despite her general dislike of it.
The bats, bats meant to batter Dean's face, bats for Dean - they're ignored with the bestial vitality that Dean harbors at every second he exists. He stands completely, utterly still in spite of the horrendous crash - keeping his crossbow elevated, but his finger off the trigger, now, as not to miss. But of course he would, in the torrenting rise of light and noise. Green eyes dilate, pupils narrow at the increased amount of light from the lightning to get accustomed to any and all levels of it. That's enough to note the crumbling of the ceiling - and slowly, as if it all is just another friday evening, Dean starts to backtrack, and watch it all crumble.
If this thing is /actually/ coming down, then Juniper is stepping back from it as well. OR alternatively, if it stops crumbling from the ceiling and the bats get successfully buffeted away. She's going to go inside to survey the damage.
Ash looks down at their hand - it seems it's fine that the water didn't chill their wound because, inadvertently, their flesh had *melted* to the metal, and their retreat *ripped* the flesh off of their palm. Their hand is a mess of blood - perfect for fighting a vampire - and they cry out, more in pain than anger, "Fucking NO! Gods, fuck!" They reach into their sloth bag for the ziplock bag of their sanitized bandages, only to fumble and drop it. They glance up at the crumbling building, then at the bandages, before dropping to grab it before running back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
Victoria will of course, have moved backward with Juniper if she moves to do so.
That massive hoard of bats continues to bite and scratch and squeal all around until the very moment that Elias summons that gust of wind, blowing the cauldron of bats back against the blackened and singed walls of the ruined cathedral, smashing them up and causing them to fall to the ground. Juniper may enter the chapel safely if she wishes, but she may not wish, as a separate gust of wind comes... No. A summoning. A gathering. A transformation. The vague image of a man made of spasming bat bodies begins to form amongst their wreckage, walking slowly at first, materializing from the feet upwards as he steps calmly and coolly through the storm. Oxford shoes, then black slacks. Then a sport jacket. A crimson tie, straightened up by slender but masculine fingers ending in dangerous white claws. Corpse-pale skin, and a mop of slicked-back black hair that rivals the locks of Geralt of Rivia's pure white version. A single clump pf it frames his perfect features on either side, golden amber eyes scanning over the assembled mercenaries as his tight-pulled lips eventually curve into a cruel smile that exposes perfectly white fangs as sharp as needles.
Mister Corporate America. Mister Worldwide. Mister Drill For Oil. A countenance that screams he would burn the rainforests a thousand times over if it put a few extra commas in his bank account. Demure, debonair, chisled perfection, every inch of him, and pinned to his lapel? The iron symbolism of the Hand; except it's wreathed in artistic flames, that clenched fist. The Hand, but different. He pops the cuffs of his dress shirt with a soft, frustrated sigh, pats a bit of flame out on his shoulder, and then those predatory eyes fixate first upon Ash, then upon Victoria. In a cloud of murky black darkness, he disappears.
Then he reappears- behind Victoria. One of his long, clawed hands settles upon her shoulder whilst the other attempts to curl under her chin and tilt it upwards, all in the single blink of an eye. "Sickly, but the weakest of the herd should be culled for its overall health... And I need a drink, lovely."
Well obviously, Juniper isn't going anywhere just yet.
Victoria moves to recoil and step back, drawing a breath. "No, you don't," she says simply with a slight frown and a narrowing of her eyes. "I'd say I'm flattered, but unfortunately I'm not."
Taking a glance over to Ash dealing with his burnt flesh, but there is not any outwardly show compassion from the dark haired man. In turn, Elias turns to face Victoria. A swirling ball of mist forms in his hand which seems to draw the heat from the air around it, but holds his attack as Victoria is likely in the way of it. He shifts his gray-blue eyes to Dean, as if looking to him to take action in this.
What begins as a look of utter contempt for the greasy man turns into one of total ferocity when he appears behind Victoria, threatening her. Touching her. There's a snarl from Juniper only momentarily before she herself paths to behind the vampire, grabbing him by that stupid hair and yanking him back. "Thanks for being such lovely bait, Vic," she coos before she practically barks, "GET DOWN." As if it needed to be said to the other she-wolf to drop when able to. This blonde's subject of focus becomes Dean across from her now where she puts her faith next.
A grateful look is given to Juniper along with a smirk, and Victoria promptly ducks down as instructed, though not before an absolutely scathing look is given to the man in front of her.
Ash sees that, at the very least, the enemy is here. And they are *pissed off*. Around the area, small lights begin to form, each one a living, flickering flame as the area slowly, but surely, becomes as bright as day. The glare they give finds their sunglasses to be no barrier, for Mal de Ojo sees on a plane beyond, and works its magic without a care for glass or plastic.
"You," Ash growls, and points a bloody finger at the vampire - Silas, no doubt. "Are cursed. Lightning shall strike you, stones crumble upon you. Your ankle will twist, crack, and break, and dust will fill your eyes. Your attempts to flee will find arrows lodged in your wings and joints. Your body shall be weakened by dawn. Your attempts to strike us down, to predate upon us, to stand on even ground, even to flee... will shatter as the strings of fate twist around your corpse, slicing through your skin, cutting you apart. You will rue this day, if we are so kind as to let you live. You. Are. Cursed."
Just as that creature of corporate, unnatural representation of the leech-kind blinks beside Victoria -- another blink happens. It's a silvery light that erupts like a volcano from where Dean is, swirling past any and all in what can only be described as the descent of a beast of judgement, an opposing force, that launches itself at the vampire. Before he even lands on the man, the snarl that comes spilling out of him is far from a normal, human or humane larynx. It's a wolf - rising with a vicious growl that spills venom through his fangs as his back hits the ceiling, cracks everything to accomodate his size, and his maw opens as decrepit as it is to claim the man with vitriolic rage exactly as he's caught by Juniper.
Juniper didn't see nothin'.
Dean(wolf) didn't do nuffin.
Ash ain't seen nada.
Victoria wonders what we were all looking at?
Juniper notes apparently a whole lotta nuffin special. Sorry someone.
Juniper notes apparently a whole lotta nuffin special. Sorry Dean(wolf).
Victoria saw nothing.
Juniper's fingers dig into grease slicked strands of black hair, but a yank is something that she cannot accomplish against this ancient creature. He feels the tug, and Victoria manages to slip from his fingers in that moment of distraction, but it doesn't do much. Frustrated that his easy prey has fled, the Vampire turns ever so slowly to stare down into Juniper's eyes, golden amber becoming muddy amber as rage overtakes the monster. His mouth opens wide as he grabs her by the shoulders, firmly this time, no chance of escape. It would take a miracle to save the blonde from this incoming bite.
A miracle.
Or a Wolf the size of a Ford F350 slamming into the creature of the night and scattering it into a thousand pieces as that deadly maw opens wide. It's like watching melted sugar crumble, or glass shatter, the way the fanged fuck disperses himself upon impact, but those pieces soon grow wings and begin to flap about once more, a small portion of their colony trapped and crushed beneath massive paws, but not enough to stop them from doing what they please as they begin to reassemble high overhead into a cloud of chittering madness. Eyes as yellow as gold glint in the light that Ash provides, and a cackle of insanity echoes all around as the ground begins to soften and split, skeletal and dehydrated hands plunging through the earth, grasping ankles as decayed and rotting faces begin to push through the soil, mouths open and eyes empty- yet filled with hunger.
"I'll handle the Big Bad Wolf," a voice says in cocky fashion, entering the minds of all in words unspoken, but still telepathically forced into minds. "You lot take care of its... Puppies." Then that mass of chiropteran creatures descends a slight distance away, congealing back into that sharp-dressed man, who crooks a beckoning finger in Dean(wolf)'s direction with a cocky smirk upon his face. "Here, boy."
Thank you Dean(wolf), for being in tune enough with Juniper to realize where this was going. No thank you, small dick energy in a suit, for all these skeletons. Now, it's time for the blonde to become feral and protect the others from these skeletal hands the way she knows best. With tooth and claw.
As the horde of bats return to distract them from the vampire, Elias raises both hands in their direction. Crackling energies spark out from the quartz crystals in his watch, once more to nudge the winds already blowing in this storm work against the approaching flying mammals.
It's as if Dean(wolf) is reckoning, damnation that has sought to be inflicted yet fell flat of it while that massive paw in all of its claws twist upon the ground to erase the last remnant of lifelike breath from the bats underfoot. The scattering does little but enrage, and yet, Dean(wolf) lowers his head first. Towards Juniper(wolf) and Victoria relatively close- to direct them away, behind and perhaps closer to the writhing mass that began to claw out of the ground. Just in time for her to turn, too, as if realizing his unsaid meaning. It's bolstering - to slowly watch and feel the rising of a pack.
Another step carries that horrendously large wolf over Victoria, and further - off the beaten path and closser to all their mutual enemy while the ground gives way with each step. His snout cracks, elongates to hang open, spread and split with tendon and blackish blood in a hellish display of fervent vigor as that silent stream of venom and destruction perpetuall in Dean(wolf)'s mouth starts to drool down the matter fur of his jaw. Those first few steps turn into a charge, and without a single breath of time to wait, Dean(wolf) is covering the distance between himself and his adversary, mortal enemy. A blink, and he's gone into the shadows.
Erupting out from behind the newest vantage of the vampire, ascending high in a leap before pouncing right on top; tooth and claw prepaared to rend the vampire asunder in his own assault.
Frowning, Victoria decides it best to shift herself given the new threats. Anything grabbing at her soon meets fur, and oversized paws tipped in sharpened claws as she stays where Dean(wolf) indicated with a turn of her head to Juniper(wolf).
The efforts of Elias was in an attempt to stop the vampire from reforming by using the wind, but obviously failed.
In a flash of light, Ash pulls something bright out of their tiny mirror, which scampers up their hand and arm, growing slowly and hissing. They move back, towards the Pack, as Boojum emerges. She grows bigger and bigger, until she jumps down to join the fight. Meanwhile, for Ash, it's now or never - they grab their bandage, stuffing the ziploc in their bag as they grab one end of a roll in their teeth, wrapping the other around their bloody palm as their bare feet moves quickly and carefully through the mud, toes curling for purchase.
A flash of lightning bursts overhead, framing Dean(wolf)'s form in light and accentuating every detail as that Wolf unhinges its jaw and charges, the darkness overtaking the land once more just in time to highlight a flash of teeth upon undead flesh before fading it into darkness. Another flash of light burns over Ireland to reveal that, for now, the Vampire is engaging in hand-to-paw combat with the massive beast, rather than fleeing and maintaining that distance for now. Perhaps Silas feels he has something to prove, or perhaps he simply lacks the energy to move away as he had before, having sustained so much damage already and then been denied a warm glass of blood to soothe the sting. No matter; it's a battle of claw against claw and fang against fang now off in the distance as two mega-forces of supernatural supremacy duke it out, slashing, biting, clawing at one another, a pair of natural enemies rending flesh from bone as the storm highlights only brief moments of their tussle, immortalizing moments frame by frame as Vampire tears into Werewolf, and Werewolf pummels Vampire. An ancient prophecy fulfilled, perhaps, somewhere far away, as the ageless battles the ancient for dominance.
Meanwhile nearby the desiccated cathedral, the rest of the Pack faces misfortune of their own as an army of undead awaken from their sleep, gnashing rotten teeth and decrepit fingers attempting to find flesh and tear it away. Juniper(wolf) and Victoria(wolf) are mostly protected by thick pelts of fur, but Ash and Elias are men, mankind, if not entirely human, but that hardens their flesh against the assault no more than rubbing on a bit of CeraVe. someone takes a bite to the elbow, and Ash is grabbed from behind, drug to the ground with bare feet unable to find purchase in the slick of the rainy mud; and soon a hoard is upon them, fighting one another more than the Faeborn as they bicker over brains and flesh meats.
A flash of lightning bursts overhead, framing Dean(wolf)'s form in light and accentuating every detail as that Wolf unhinges its jaw and charges, the darkness overtaking the land once more just in time to highlight a flash of teeth upon undead flesh before fading it into darkness. Another flash of light burns over Ireland to reveal that, for now, the Vampire is engaging in hand-to-paw combat with the massive beast, rather than fleeing and maintaining that distance for now. Perhaps Silas feels he has something to prove, or perhaps he simply lacks the energy to move away as he had before, having sustained so much damage already and then been denied a warm glass of blood to soothe the sting. No matter; it's a battle of claw against claw and fang against fang now off in the distance as two mega-forces of supernatural supremacy duke it out, slashing, biting, clawing at one another, a pair of natural enemies rending flesh from bone as the storm highlights only brief moments of their tussle, immortalizing moments frame by frame as Vampire tears into Werewolf, and Werewolf pummels Vampire. An ancient prophecy fulfilled, perhaps, somewhere far away, as the ageless battles the ancient for dominance.
Meanwhile nearby the desiccated cathedral, the rest of the Pack faces misfortune of their own as an army of undead awaken from their sleep, gnashing rotten teeth and decrepit fingers attempting to find flesh and tear it away. Juniper(wolf) and Victoria(wolf) are mostly protected by thick pelts of fur, but Ash and Elias are men, mankind, if not entirely human, but that hardens their flesh against the assault no more than rubbing on a bit of CeraVe. Elias takes a bite to the elbow, and Ash is grabbed from behind, drug to the ground with bare feet unable to find purchase in the slick of the rainy mud; and soon a hoard is upon them, fighting one another more than the Faeborn as they bicker over brains and flesh meats.
Not on Juniper(wolf)'s watch! She's not duking it out in the mud instead of having epic vampire battles with Dean(wolf) for nothing. The she-wolf paths and bites and tears with finesse, grabbing bickering pieces of bone between jaws and flinging them ruthlessly aside in an attempt to give Ash an opening to get up and get away. Elias will get a lick and a cute band-aid for his elbow later.
Ash commands their minion with a strange chirp - and the snark, with more strength then one might expect, charges with power and rage, claws and teeth, bouncing from one enemy to another in order to push or *break* open a path. Between her and Juniper(wolf), perhaps, a path can be made for Ash to tear free of their grip and bolt behind the two wolves.
Reaching for the knife on his belt, Elias pulls it as the undead are on him. As one of the skeletons take a meaty bite out of his elbow, Elias lets out a low growl and curse, "You bastard! You got blood on my shirt!" Even though he probably doesn't adequately express that it is his own blood on his shirt. The fit man holds out his hand outreached towards the undead as the quartz crystals on it emit a pale bluish-white light and the undead starts to build up a layer of ice upon it.
Victoria(wolf) turns to Ash and Elias with a low growl, a flurry of swiping claws and snapping teeth an attempt to keep things clear as she surveys to ensure all of them are alright.
Whatever is to transpire in the epic duel that ensues beneath the thundering sky, and raw flickers of light through the darkness, Dean(wolf) is a reckoning force. Fangs agleam, claws glistening - he takes as much as he dishes out, and undead might, as it were, the resilience of the unliving, meets the vigorous warmth of a rage-fueled, lunacy induced werewolf. His fur, coarse and thick, becomes that much more ruddy over the inky mass of black with accumulating wounds, the scrapes, bruises an cuts. His blood - as well as the sickening, morbid one of his adversaries.
Relentless assault would surely dent the earth with every leap, every step cracks stone, soil, whatever or whichever torn, ancient remnant of the past in madmade brick they fling one another to. One thing that is certain is that Dean(wolf), in a battle of attrition, holds a wicked dominion while his unhinged jaw hangs like a hellhound, unfittingly large canids put to the test in every bite. The only bit of him reminiscing of a human, his eyes, they glow perpetually in the dark no matter the distance, to refract and reflect any light befalling their hue - yet the are bent in cruel rage driven to demolish the unnatural. More than that, to demolish the bigger threat to the pack fighting elsewhere.
Juniper(wolf) rushes to Ash's aid just in time to smash through a skeleton that has snuck up on the hoard and made eyes at their skull, lowering itself down in an attempt to gnaw. One threat dropped, then another, and then another, as soon Boojum joins the fray, knocking skulls off of shoulders and flinging arms around like a gorilla in a rage. Luckily that fury is focused, the strange Fey creature tormenting anything that tries to get close enough to touch its master.
On the other end, Elias surrounds himself with statues of the living dead, frozen in time- and in ice- as he harnesses his sorcery in hand, wave after wave of undead minions frozen as he simply Lets It Go, forming a make shift castle of ice around himself with every zombie or skeleton that dares get in range. Victoria(wolf) does a well enough job tearing through her fair share of foes, sending them all crashing to the ground- many, but weak, it seems, as they rise over and over again- but this constant summoning has its cost on Silas.
Each wave of the undead that the Vampire produces is an attack not taken, and soon it becomes clear that this has given Dean(wolf) the edge that he needs to overcome his foe. That staggering damage the Wolf doles out begins to add up and up to the point that, with one final crash of thunderous blows, the Vampire is on the ground at the Wolf's feet. In a last-ditch effort to save himself, realizing that his own battle is lost, Silas smirks up at the unhinged Wolf, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Perhaps next time," he muses... And then he starts to crumble into bats once more. If nothing is done, he will surely escape, and the mission will be failed.
As the vampire is preparing to escape in the form of bats, Elias does all the can do to keep them from flying away. The dark haired man calls forth all the magical might he can muster to bring forth the winds of the storm. Swooping down from the sky, a large gust of wind blows down at the little furry flying mammals in an effort to keep them grounded and easily manageable, "You have to start killing the bats! He will be forced back into his main form or risk losing too many and dying himself!" He yells over the wind.
Ash makes it to their feet, turning to the other battle, intending to cast magics to help Dean(wolf) gain the upper hand... only to see the fucker trying to flee! They curse and grab their rifle, relying on their regenerative abilities and familiarity to pain to block out the screaming of their palm as they raise the rifle to their shoulder. A wave of their hand, and the vampire is glowing, pastel flames outlining his body as sure as the sun with faerie fire. "I told you... your attempts to flee will *shatter*," they hiss, taking their shot before the man loses his human form completely.
In the nearing of their battle, it looks like Dean(wolf) is left limping. One step at a time, he's hobbling with cruel, wicked intent to the man that clicks his tongue. That open maw leading to nothing but pitch black darkness of an eternal void, an all-consuming, sun-devouring hunger is shown in how he starts to open his jaw even wider if it was at all possible --- but then, his adversary starts to change tactics. For the better, too, lest they all watch from afar and see all the fight they've endured had been for naught, and Dean(wolf) gnawed the vampire's head off. As the little winged rats starts to scatter...
Dean(wolf)'s jaw snaps shut. There is yet another growl, grrowing to a snarl, further hobbling that grows less and less until Dean(wolf) is running, and then fully sprinting on all fours with each step a miniature earthquake in his wake. First, that massive form shifts- grows smaller, chunks of wounded flesh, clipped fur are all left asunder in his wake for the momentary moment that Dean(wolf) is nothing but a man rushing, wearing nothing but a smile -- and then, a leap into the sky, and before he even takes off, it's not a human, but an eagle that has taken to the air.
He soars -- straight for the bats with talons just as sharp as his earlier fangs.
Juniper(wolf) is remaining as a wolf, minding any remaining threats on the ground while the focus shifts to batman and robin.
Victoria(wolf) remains with Juniper(wolf), looking displeased at the arrival of more bats.
Frozen bats fall or are gusted back to the ground in the wake of Elias's magicks, and what isn't frozen is quickly snatched up by Dean(golden eagle)'s wicked claws, a feeding frenzy of death and destruction until, finally, only one bat remains. Ironically, it remains upon the ground, hiding amongst the tall grasses, perhaps hoping to use the rest of its colony as a distraction to escape- but Ash has already set the sights of their rifle on that spot, and as the man disperses into a cloud of bats, Ash's itchy trigger finger pops off, a singular bullet whizzing through the air to strike into what looks to be little more than a tuft of grass left behind where once Silas laid. A squeak of pain is heard, and then a man lays there once more, broken, bloodied, beaten, coughing up coagulated blood as he digs his once-pristine claws into the soil, attempting to /crawl/ his way to safety. But the sun will be up in Ireland soon, and Ash has the entirety of the place lit up like a Christmas tree. For all of the stealth Bram Stoker's Dracula musters, it isn't enough. He's easily spotted, if not heard, as he drags himself across the rain slickened turf. That army of undead falls with his retreat, the last of them crumbling at Juniper(wolf)'s feet.
If there's one thing that Juniper(wolf) is good at, it's lots of things. And a couple of them are pouncing and taking down an enemy. With the threat of the undead no longer on the radar, that slinking worm is her target. Not to kill - as per their redheaded loved one's request. Only to capture.
Ash runs forward, no doubt along with the wolves, as they flick the safety and drop their rifle, the strap keeping it on their person. Instead, they grab their sword, hurrying to the man so that they can swing and *cut off* his hands at the wrist, one after another, foot on his back. At least, that's their intent - the wolves may be faster and have their own plans. And insofar as Ash is concerned, the man doesn't *need* hands. Or feet. Hell, if they thought he could survive it, they'd chop his head off, too.
Victoria(wolf) begins to pad her way over to the wounded man in the grass, pausing only to snap teeth in his direction as she recalls his earlier plans for her. She keeps an eye on Juniper(wolf) as she moves, bristling the closer she gets.
A twist midair, Dean(wolf) is as vicious in the air as he is below it. A bat is split in half between his talons mid-flight, another snatched by his beak, torn through and devoured beefore Dean(wolf) starts to bullet down. And it is a bullet. Fast, terrifyingly so while Dean(wolf) falls from grace. Before Juniper(wolf) can reach, before anyone can - Dean(wolf) pummels into the ground above the man and what ensues isn't a small drop -- but a massive crater of dust risen, mud thrown, and a roaring snarl as that eagle is no more. Dean(wolf) shifts straight into wolf, with a paw placed above their fallen foe, pressing the vampire to the ground with relentless hate and aggression molded in the shape of a canine.
He throws his head back -- lets loose a howl to the sky, at the waxing crescent moon hanging just far enough to disappear soon in the distance, and it sounds ferociously hungry. Lost in a madness of his own make and embrace. Then, slowly, his head begins to drop. Maw angled towards the fallen adversary he keeps underclaw, while that jaw elongates again, starts to crack and pop and open up to his ears while he gets closer like he means to devour the vampire whole in a single, wicked swallow.
Juniper(wolf)'s pounce, apparently uneeded, still brings her to flank the prey as the pack hunts as one tonight. With package secured she too joins the chorus with Dean(wolf).
While the others work to capture the vampire, too many chefs ruin the soup so Elias just stays back and inspects his tore shirt that is stained in his own blood with frowning disappointment at the damage, "Italian silk." He says with a low groan.
Ash starts their own war cry, not bothering to try and lamely emulate a howl - but then they stop short. They glance back at Juniper(wolf) before they hiss Dean(wolf), sounding as if they already regret it, "Dean - we're supposed to leave him alive - undestroyed. And he'll probably make you sick. Just his hands and feet?" They hope the compromise will convince him, but they know that they're not a wolf, not part of his Pack, and so they hold their breath.
All according to plan. Perfectly timed. "AWOOOOOOO!!!" comes the familiar, if humanoid, howl of JR from behind his Pack as he bolts out of the even-more-ruined cathedral, a strange device in hand. He's grinning from freckled ear to freckled ear as he runs as fast as he can. Too fast. He trips, and that device is smooshed beneath his chest as he tries to catch himself.
Beep
Beep
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
"... Oh shit," says that mix of Brummie and Boston that tinges his accent, and he struggles to his feet as he tries to run again, faster this time, that device beeping faster and faster and faster until-
KABOOM!!
The cathedral behind them all blows itself into smithereens, rubble and shrapnel flying all over the place as he joins the rest of the group, beaming down at the captured Silas beneath Dean(wolf), about to say something, maybe a positive note, or a speech on how great they are all as a team, or /preening/ over the fact that he doesn't have to be carried this time. But he doesn't get it out. A massive brick of stone flies forth from the explosion, striking the redhead upside, well, his red head. He stumbles, looks confused, holds yup a finger like he's about to make a point or say 'I'm okay'. Then he drops like a sack of fucking potatoes, unconscious in the mud as the temple, or what's left of it, caves in on itself in a smouldering fire that sends black smoke pluming up into the air.
He was so close. The poor guy.
Meanwhile, just on the side, lowering above a poor vampire, Dean(wolf) is disturbed by the explosion, yet unstirred, unmoved. He remains as he is while embers fall all across, and it seems just enough to stop Dean(wolf) from what was about to do to his prey. Green eyes tilt upon Ash, stare, burrow into him with an intensity that belies his hunger, wrapped around a snarl that slowly grows and grows -- until he rams into the man. Fangs dig in, crunch, crack, and the vampire is shaken like a ragdoll. Thankfully, vampires can take a punishment, quite the deadly amount of it - something that Dean(wolf) seems keenly aware of while he chucks the body straight at Ash, for him to catch or topple under. Only thing missing is its whole arm, up to the shoulder, cleanly torn off - and now lost in a crunch of bone while Dean(wolf) chews it like a chew toy, then swallows it whole. The fallen over someone gets a huff through his nostrils, from that respectable distance, and without any words, not that he could formulate any, Dean(wolf) starts to stalk off towards the rubble - likely to dig out his clothes before their eventual, marry return home.
Meanwhile, just on the side, lowering above a poor vampire, Dean(wolf) is disturbed by the explosion, yet unstirred, unmoved. He remains as he is while embers fall all across, and it seems just enough to stop Dean(wolf) from what was about to do to his prey. Green eyes tilt upon Ash, stare, burrow into him with an intensity that belies his hunger, wrapped around a snarl that slowly grows and grows -- until he rams into the man. Fangs dig in, crunch, crack, and the vampire is shaken like a ragdoll. Thankfully, vampires can take a punishment, quite the deadly amount of it.
Something that Dean(wolf) seems keenly aware of while he chucks the body straight at Ash, for him to catch or topple under. Only thing missing is its whole arm, up to the shoulder, cleanly torn off - and now lost in a crunch of bone while Dean(wolf) chews it like a chew toy, then swallows it whole. The fallen over redhead gets a huff through his nostrils, from that respectable distance, and without any words, not that he could formulate any, Dean(wolf) starts to stalk off towards the rubble - likely to dig out his clothes before their eventual, marry return home.
Victoria(wolf) shakes her head back and forth with a soft huff of amusement as she turns to regard JR momentarily, a stare given to Dean(wolf) as he chews on an arm with the twitch of one eye and the drop of her tail.
Poor JR... at least Juniper(wolf) stoops to nudge him gently with her muzzle, licking his face with her hideously odoured muddy skeleton tongue while Dean(wolf) searches for his clothes and Ash gets pummeled with a vampire body that looks like a weird barbie found at the bottom of a garage sale box in a dark corner.
Ash stops trying to bring reason to the powerful wolf, and instead rushes over to their beloved, looking over the wound. They grab their medical supplies and gets to work, figuring out if he can be moved before they lift his head onto their lap to start work cleaning him up and ensuring he makes it back to the clinic alive. "If you had fucking BEEN HERE to MEET us you fucking DRAMA QUEEN, I'd have *BLESSED* you, you fucking- fucking - fucking *chili pepper*-" And then *they* get a fucking brick thrown into *their* face... so long as you call a vampire a *brick*. They probably curse, but it's drowned behind the loud *THUMP* of flesh as it bowls them over. All that's left for the wolves to see is two mostly bare brown legs kicking and struggling... and probably thanking Dean for his *kindness*, no doubt, in listening and *only* giving them this much of a scolding for daring talk back to him.
Ash turns into a spritely counterculture androgyne.
Ash keeps their clothes on.
Juniper eventually turns back into a human because... opposable thumbs and speaking is good. She also finds her clothes and gets changed because naked out here in the bat guano mud is bad.
The ginger-haired moron does, eventually, stir back to consciousness with Ash's help, though it wouldn't be until they were on the path back to town. He's going to have a decent-sized goose egg on his head for a while, depending on how fast his body feels like healing itself. That being said, he isn't dead, and he's definitely not dying, which is a far cry from his last attempt at a solo side quest whilst his friends handled the scary parts of one of his 'jobs'. But finished, the job is, the Vampire, Silas, captured and mostly in one piece, and his chapel to Regan utterly destroyed, left in smithereens by the dynamite laced about the place. Hopefully the loot made it out in mostly one piece, too.
A rousing success, truly, as Ash lay pinned beneath a half-dead Vampire and Elias mourns his Italian silk.
The rain continues to pour down overhead as the sun starts to peak over Ireland, rising in the east and casting proper, reddish-hued light over the land, now cleansed of not only undead influence, but of the influence of that demonic Eidolon the group so valiantly fights against. And, would you look at that: Dean didn't even pull the wrong lever. Miracle upon miracle.
Now all that's left to do is journey home, split the loot, and figure out what the group is going to do next to meddle in the plans of JR's father; and take a long, much-needed bath. Maybe even sleep!
FIN.
"I feel dirty," Victoria muses.
Juniper says "No comment."