Furious Angels BEGIN

[Ordin]

Ordin pinched the bridge of his nose tightly with a sigh. Once more he was being ignored. What was worse he was now without his beloved hat. Why do I deal with this fucker's shit? he thought. With a whirl of coat, Trevlac had suddenly stormed out of the room, leaving Daemon, his father and he alone to gab amongst themselves. Maybe hold a tea party or some shit. A captive and Trev's ancestor now with all-new internal hemorrhaging powers.

Grabbing his bloody, moist shirt he threw it over himself and placed his equally bloody and sopping crimson jacket and donned it as well. Checking his pocket and making sure he had everything he needed he grabbed Daemon by the back of his shirt and yanked him forward.

"Please keep all hands and feet inside the ride at all times," he muttered to himself with a grin, hurling the man that seemed almost half his size into the doorway "we're going for a little walk."

Exiting the room and leaving Trevlac's dear daddy behind he marched down twenty feet in the assumed direction the vampire had gone and turned right. Turn right into a room full of an abashed man trying to make merry with a howling, half-naked woman. The woman struggled to pull her panty hose up and the man pleaded for her to stay. Just the kind of thing Ordin liked to walk into unexpectedly. The two stopped what they were doing and looked at him. He then realized the door was broken off of its hinges and stood cocked against the now broken TV.

Furrowing his brows he slowly stepped backwards, out of the room and turned on heel, now seeing the vampire and a suspiciously small girl making light.

"Shut the fuck up and let's go, you asshat. If we don't die in about fifteen minutes I'm gonna be surprised all the fucking way to holyshitland and back. You can hang out with all the goth chicks you want at the next rave we kill."

[Daemon]

Daemon was tossed outside of the room, landing hard on his rear. The defenseless and quite innocent man had been rather intruged, while also annoyed by the events that had managed to transpire within the last few hours. Being thrown around by a group of wannabe badasses was something that hardly ever happened to the vampire hunter. He was usually doing the throwing, shooting, killing, maniacal laughing, you know the great things in life.

Slowly getting up, Daemon watched, mildly entertained at the grand showing Trevlac had just put on, barging into rooms, for apparently no reason.

“You know, you guy's got some real tact, eh?” Daemon commented. “I mean if I was the toronto police I would have no idea where you guys are, nor what to charge you with when I found you, if I ever found you, because god knows it's so hard. You'd be warranted with two, count'em two, cases of kidnapping, one case of attempted murder, and god knows what else you have done.”

The magnificent bastard crossed his arms, as he let out a grunt.

This post has been edited by Daemon on Jul 17 2008, 03:57 AM

[Kaitou]

Her frame shook with a silent laugh, bending over like she was having an asthma attack from the weight of her diaphragm collapsing in mirth. It would have been troubling to see, had her face not been red with amusement and trademark Cheshire grin open to reveal a set of pearly white chompers. She hugged her abdomen, trying to contain her sudden fit of giggles.

"That's my business, fish!' said the brave little girl to the wolf dressed in bloody and wet clothes. "Rave, rick, and roll, I'm all up for party killing. PK'ing. I'm excellent jail-bait, you see."

She turned to the one with hair that was similar to hers in hue. "It was nice talking to you, Trevie, but I think your Bloody-Bill, Odin..... no, Ordin, wants to take you away from this place." Her crazy, wild eyes stilled as her clan's stigma calmed down. "I'll go, if you need me to, like the lone wolf," Her blond locks bounced again as she gestured with her head to the large man at the door. "I'm not much the fighter, but I'm swift and small."

The wild smile broke her sealed ruby lips.

"Azraelle, at your service." Gray eyes were soon hidden by a curtain of her hair as she bowed low in an old fashioned manner to the man with the bloody cloak hanging on his arm.

This post has been edited by Kaitou on Jul 17 2008, 12:32 PM

[Ordin]

As the small girl burst into a fit of annoying giggles, the Priest cocked an eyebrow. He couldn't stand many more melodramatic fools joining their cause. He opened his mouth to fire a retort concerning the girl's audacity to invite herself along for their escape from police and amongst other things her small breast size, but though better of it as police sirens grew in the distance and instantly seemed to be in the hallway with them.

"Shit," Ordin said negligibly, his concern on dying becoming ever more justified. Somehow the police had tracked them to this motel... but how? They weren't exactly camouflaged, but they hadn't exactly made their presence known.

Gunshots split the Priest's train of thought. One and two sprinkles of fire began to grow until there was the sounds of a frenzied riot emanating from the front of the motel.

Ordin rushed into the room that once contained two lovers but was now empty, except for ruffled sheets and the smell of sex. Lifting the window across the room he carefully peered out and down the side of the building. Though the area where the police had parked their vehicles was in a blind spot, the flashing trail of their lights illuminated something by far more interesting.

A croud of human figures was marching down the street from the direction of the college. Maybe a hundred of them, the only thing between them and the motel being the futile attempt by police to stave them off with gunfire. Four simple word came crashing into Ordin's head as he watched the humanoid figures slump menacingly closer and closer to their position.

Fuck I hate zombies...

[Kaitou]

The girl caught the "priest" looking down at her chest. A smug look came opon her features as she realized what he was looking at. She did a good job of hiding her matureness while she was travelling under the guise of a younger sister, or sometimes even as a daughter. The ace bandages came in handy in that situation, but she wasn't so sure this time. It seemed like Ordin would have liked her better had she had shown her true colours, so to speak.

As the sounds became louder, the older man's face slowly grew a haunting look. His brow knitted in concern as the wretched wailing of human "peace-keeping" forces came closer. Azraelle herself almost had to cover her ears, although halfof her discomfort would still be heard. The other occupants in her mind hated reminders of how fragile the masquerade was. Noises that involved human weapons and human danger made them antsy with distress.

As the flashing lights came closer, the symphony of wailing in her head increased in volume as the cacophany of cars drew closer....and closer....

The blond girl sunk to her knees, finally giving into the pain and putting her hands over her ears.

"....euh....." she moaned, pulling herself into a tighter position, trying to become small enough to dissapear from this terrible ghost-sccre.

This post has been edited by Kaitou on Jul 17 2008, 02:11 PM

[BubblePanda]

No sooner had Jeff walked into the filthy hotel that he was greeted from behind by a LARGE group of people. No doubt they were after whoever was in here...Jeff turned around, and decided that the best way, rather, the ONLY way to save his newfound ally, seeing as no one ELSE in this place seemed to want to do anything, was to fight. Jeff turned, and let out a monstrous roar as he changed...his hair grew, as did fur. His pinky and his ring fingers fused, and grew large, bear-like claws. Jeff fully morphed into his bear form, and roared once again. One against one hundred? Might just be a fair fight.

[Trevlac]

An eyebrow raised on Trevlac's face. "Okay...well, if it makes you feel any better I like smaller breasts anyway. Hey, Ordin wait!" Trevlac's thoughts were cut short when Ordin bolted from the room in a very Trevlac-like fashion. He followed the priest to the window and looked out. It was bedlam outside, walking corpses had taken to amassing in front of a cop front. Only one thought went through the vampire's mind:

Fuck I hate ghouls...

[Kaitou]

Azraelle blushed a light pink, easily showing through her translucent ex-human skin. The noise was still there, but the fear of it was eased slightly when her "intruder" made that side comment.

" I'm actually.. um... not small. I'm bound, at the moment.. uh.. actua-"

Her mumbles were cut off as the man with the cloak burst out of the room in a style that was very similar to how the other blond made his entrance. Two seconds latter, the said blond went over to the window in the room opposite.

She got up from her fetal-like position, and padded silently after him. When she entered the room, two things called to her attention like a hook in a fish's mouth.

One: there were strange coloured auras outside; a lot of them, at that.

Two: ...something big, white, and black was in her visions.

There was a green glow... teddy bear?.... a person with a gun... FUCK YOU, FEMALES.... something.... was..... wrong.

But, above all of the voices giving her random information, a kindhearted face greeted her. At first, she thought is was her guide and protector in life; the male who had chosen to save her from the asylum by claiming her as his own, rather than let her participate in the doctor's "treatments".

This new person was asian, like her mate, but his hair was shorter and face younger looking. He lacked the haunted, hunted look that her special one never let go of... yet he seemed just as reserved. It was peaceful, and the scent of fresh tatami and jasmine rice...

Her head snapped up, eyes coming to focus visibly, as her pupils dilated and constricted in a way that almost looked painful. Blinking a few times, she tried to sift through the mass of information she had unwillingly gathered. .

Steeling herself against the distracting stigma that she carried, Azraelle joined Trevlec by the window. She coughed slightly, alerting him of her presence, before looking out the window. A quiet, echo-filled roar bounced in the walls of her cranium. Curious, she directed her vision towards where the forest was.

Silver caught her attention.

No, black.

.....noope, white.

She blinked, feeling very sick to her stomach.

...great, now I'm seeing fucking PANDAS on the street. I know I miss Raziel.. but.. sheesh.

"....buttnugget Malkavian hivemind!" A loud smack issued as she hit herself in the forehead with her palm, and let it come to rest over her eyes. "...Trevlec? I know I'm a crazy little bitch, but.. is there a freaking panda over there? If there isn't... I seriously need to sue Disney for giving Malkavians visions of fucking pandas that fucking know kung-fu."

[Trevlac]

The shifty voice of Azraelle was almost tuned out by Trevlac (he had a tenancy to focus on one thing at a time) until he caught what she said with his own eye. There was indeed what looked like a giant feral panda ravaging towards the mass of cops and korper.
"A fucking werebear. And an idiot at that - what did those Korpi ever do to him? He's going to get mauled by both them and the cops." Trevlac grinned to himself and cood, satisfied knowing that some beastly demon was going to be shredded to pieces by other beastly demons due to stupidity or lack of a will to survive.

A thought occurred to him in his momentary joy; Trevlac had realized that if there were deadlings running around only things cause it: Necromancers and Hell Gates. Necromancers were never in vampire territory and vampire necromancers were never in vampire territory, and since they were long overdue for another gate to Hell opening near Samael's bastion (or should he say, Sparta's bastion), he assumed the latter. Quickly turning to Ordin he announced, "Lucy's recruiting for something big. Now's our chance to sneak inside Hell and pay a visit to a demon bastion."

[Kaitou]

"Will the black knight take the bloodied white queen? Tis a strange game of chess you play... Say, what was your last name again?"

Her eyes sparkled oddly in the light of the sirens. She turned, giving him a small smile, before staring out at the scene before them once more. It wasn't fear that made her knuckles paper white with tension, but an odd excitement.

...somthing big was going to happen. She didn't need the voices to tell her that.

"....who's Lucy?"

[Ordin]

Without a word to Trevlac or the tiny girl that appeared at his side the Priest whipped around and stormed out the room and down the stairs six at a time, bursting through an emergency exit on the first floor. The cold night air felt amazing against his burning skin. The air still smelled moist from the recent rain. It was a glorious night for murder.

The zombies had advanced onto the officer's position and were busy ravaging them. Screams of horror of all shapes, sizes and frequencies exploded from the crowd of cops. The numbers of the undead began doubling as within seconds the slaughtered corpses rose from their graves. The panicked officers began firing on their own men, which appeared to only help the cause of the undead, for even corpses that had been killed with bullets arose.

This gave credibility to Trevlac's suspicions. Shit, they're Inferi. We have a necromancer in the area... my weapons are useless.

Thinking hastily, the Judas Priest spotted an empty beer bottle near the entrance of the motel. Filling it with the contents of his whiskey flask and plugging the neck with an old handkerchief he made one of the finest looking molotov cocktails ever known to man.

Lighting it with a flick of his wrist Ordin pulled his arm back to the side with the finesse of a seasoned revolutionary, sending it skidding across the concrete and exploding under the gas tank of one of the many cruisers in the area. He then ducked behind the building for safety.

[Daemon]

Interested in with what everyone was looking at, Daemon walked into the room that had been abandoned by the hooker and her employer for the night. Walking over to the window, as Ordin stormed past him. Taking the spontaneous priest's spot at the window, Daemon looked outside, wondering if a riot had broken out. He was shocked when the police officers started to fire the rioters, but was even more shocked when the grim looking rioters didn't go down, or even take note of the injuries. Now looking properly at them, Daemon noticed that they had graying skin, emotionless expressions, and their jaws seemed to hang lazily open, as if they didn't care.

As a wild panda suddenly entered the fray and started to attack anything that moved, Daemon shook his head and pinched himself, as if trying to wake himself up from a dream. Frightened when he didn't wake up in his own warm bed, and he remained at this nightmare of a battleground, Daemon turned to Trevlac.

“What the FUCK is going on around here?!” Daemon hollered, demanding an answer. “Just when I think shit can't get any weirder, sometime this goes down! I've managed to keep my cool, stay chilled out, and try not to become too much of a problem for you guys, but what the fuck!”

Daemon walked out of the room, and stood for a moment in the hallway, before keeling over and puking.

[Trevlac]

The words of their captive almost made Trevlac care; almost. He spun around and gave the most contemptuous and murderous look he could muster with the sudden rise of hot anger. "You know, keeping you captive is really getting aggravating. You don't ever help out the team. You sit around like a whiny pooch. You criticize and cower like a dog. I'm sick of holding you prisoner so fine, if you want to go, go. If you want to help everyone in this city not be ravaged to death by hoards of ghouls outside then do it." He finished with a snarl and flared his nostrils. People who acted weak just to avoid conflict were scum to Trevlac. If one is captive then one should learn as much as possible about his captor's motive and goals. If this guy had bothered to pay attention, he could have been of use or walked away knowing the best thing to do was leave Furious Angels the hell alone.

Thoughts of sugarplums danced in his head; Trevlac had turned to Azraelle. "If your offer still stands, then immediately leave this room - with him if he so chooses - Trevlac pointed over his shoulder and sneak behind the cop cars to lay down any kind of distraction or covering fire you can. As for me, well, you'll see." Trevlac winked at the pair of them with his last statement and he dashed from the room. Not giving someone time to respond to something right away gives you a higher probability that they will go with your suggestion. If you plant a seed and walk away, that seed starts to take root and grow. If you watch it, they have a face to criticize - your idea is not an idea but a person; completely mortal and subjective. Blind ideas are a looming shadow.

As Trevlac re-thought all of his dirty little mind-tricks, including the one he just played on that pair and specifically how he knew it would affect each of them differently, he had gone to his destination, acquired the preferred items, and set off down the alley that Ordin had taken. He didn't have to go far to see the priest starting to do something very similar to his idea. Trevlac whispered to Ordin, hissing at him to turn around.

[Ordin]

The grenade exploded perfectly, directly under the gas tank of the cruiser. However, to the dismay of Ordin, it did not explode into a Hollywood-style mushroom cloud, demolishing everything in a mile radius. Instead, it cracked, spilling burning whiskey in a five foot radius that quickly went out.

Ordin sat back, out of the site of the clashing forces and watched, thinking. Thinking had never been his strong point. It was usually left up to Trevlac to come up with off-the-wall tactics and it was Ordin's job to be the heavy firepower/daredevil psychopath. It seemed as though the vampire had been rubbing off on him. Unfortunately the Priest only received his poor qualities.

From his vantage point Ordin scanned the surrounding area. If these corpses had a mancer, it was likely the mancer was in the area, watching the battle. Though it's easier to control inferi directly, the Red One discovered in his years that it is possible to send them off with simple directives such as "kill everything" or "wait and protect this".

He had enough waiting. The police were getting slaughtered. Many had already fled, but those whose hearts had hardened only in a way that fifteen years on the force can cause remained. Shooting, reloading, relocating, finding cover. Battling until reinforcements arrived. Strangely enough, it had been fifteen minutes and yet none had come. Maybe the others were pulled away to somewhere else? Somewhere... that's more of a crisis? Is that possible?

Through these questions Father Wales felt a poke on his back. He started and flipped around, expecting a wandering undead to have snuck up behind him. He had Scipio ready in a flash but realized it was just Trevlac. Trevlac toting two 24-packs of Coca-Cola.

"What the fuck are those for?" he asked hesitantly. The vampire looked at him with something like a smirk and said simply "gas."

Taking one box, inside which was a red container with a spout that, indeed, held gasoline. Ordin knew exactly what to do.

The two set off in opposite directions, appearing to carry simple coca-cola boxes (being such a common site as to not give the police reason to see them as targets, simply as landscape), pouring a small river of gasoline around the perimeter of the battle, making sure there were no breaks in the line. When they met in the middle the entire arena was enclosed in gasoline fumes.

This brought a strange sense of irony to the whole thing. Ordin looked to Trevlac and burst into laughter whilst attempting to start his lighter. The cackle could be heard above the gunfire and shouts and moans of the undead. One female officer stopped firing her shotgun and looked up over the safety of her cruiser. Her face was instantly twisted into one of intense fear.

Ordin dropped the flaming lighter onto the Yangtze of doom before them.

[Daemon]

Daemon gave himself time to breath, taking a sharp intake of breath. He listened to Trevlac's speech and now felt like an irresponsible teenager. He had taken it upon himself to hunt down the vampires that stalked the darkness of his home. It was obvious that the way our hero had reacted towards the current situation was childish and beneath him. Bringing himself up to a full stance, he shook his head and started to walk down the hallway. He quickly clambered down the stairs, as he jogged out of an emergency exit at the end of the hallway.

Looking around Daemon got a closer look at the chaos. The rejuvenated man looked to his left, seeing flocks of people running past a gas station. He quickly ran towards the Shell gas station, and looks down the street towards an intersection. Looking at the familiar street name, our hero quickly realizes that his apartment building is only but a block down.

A scream from behind him calls Daemon's attention. He turns around just in time to catch a staggering body filled with bullet holes. Quickly, Daemon dodged the initial lunge, the monster staggering forward and falling to the ground. Realizing he didn't have much time, Daemon quickly started to sprint down the street towards his apartment.

[Kaitou]

Azraelle fought down a gag as she smelled bile and stomach acid being purged by the werewolf. When he was done, his face seemed to hold a new kind of resolve; set into a glimmer in his eyes. He stood up too his full, impressive hight, shook his head in a dog-like manner, (earning a small suppressed giggle from the little girl), and left with a confident and earthmoving stride.

The said small girl's giggle didn't last very long, as she thought back to what her new friend had said. Sneaking was something she was good at. Distractions, even better.

"...Trevlec," she sighed dismissively, and began speaking to herself. "I wish you would have at least told me what the seven blazes was going on!" Placing her hands over her eyes, she cradled her face as she thought; her concentration momentarily shutting off the slight whispers in her mind.

First things first.. he told the wolf to protect civilians from these creatures, and for me to sneak and give returning fire. Putting two and two together means that they're obviously fighting those... things, out there arcade style.

So, that meant that she was to sneak away from people who might think of her as a threat, all the while help them by shooting the movie-esk monsters. Right. Easy.

Azraelle exited the room soundlessly and quickly, sidestepping the puddle of vomit made by her friend, and took the same route everyone else did. Flinging open the fire-escape door, she caught the railing in front of her, and with a flick of her wrist, flung herself off of the metal terrace. After landing, she immediately sprung up into a moderate sprint; using her obfuscate and the shadows created by overhangs of various shops to make herself unnoticeable. When she was running like this with the wind caressing her childish round face, and running it's invisible fingers through her hair; it was a sort of sacred love that she experienced. Abet, the only. In a way, she was proud of being pure for being raised with other Kindred who took "carnal pleasure" to a whole new level. Hell, she hadn't even kissed before.

Warmth came into her cheeks, similar to the feeling of fire flashing some distance away. ....damn blush....wait. She shifted her now immobile position infinitesimally.

Sure enough, a huge blaze was alight down the street, right where the creatures were. It seemed to be controlled, though, as it only surrounded the police force and the zombies. Trevlec had said that she would see what they were up to soon enough. She took a sharp intake of oxygen, before taking off in the direction of the blaze.

Skirting around the area by use of side streets and alleys, she got pretty darn close to the whole fiasco. Deciding that she was close enough, she dived into the nearest alley and looked around for yet another fire-escape. Upon finding one, she climbed it with ease, making her way to the roof of the building. Once there, she hoisted herself up with a little difficulty, but the little girl made it in one piece.

Her chest rose and fell like ocean waves; her heart alight like a little hummingbird. Shaking her head side to side in a manner much like her dog-friend, she steeled herself before crawling over to the side of the roof where all of the action was taking place.

It looked worse from above. Fire. Dead bodies. Frightened faces.

...and over to the side, barely in her line of sight, was Ordin and Trevlec.

This post has been edited by Kaitou on Jul 26 2008, 12:52 PM

[Skraelion Escardini]

Outside of Toronto, far from the sweltering, zombie-infested corner of the city, the outline of an Alfa Romeo Competizione streaked through the darkness that permeated the highway, its headlights drilling through the black with bright columns of light. A casual observer, had there been any around on this moonlit night, would have stopped to admire the sleek ruby red paint job and the silver rims that twinkled as they spun. No hitchhiker was there to appreciate the appearance, which was lucky, because the driver seemed to be too busy talking on his cellphone to pay much attention to the road. Even with three decades of legislation against such a gaffe, people still did it. Tonight, however, there would be at least one person who would grow smarter from their error.

The one behind the wheel jerked his car back in between the lines of his proper lane and rolled his eyes. The person on the other line was beginning to get on his nerves, but he couldn't say that to her. He really wanted to, but there was one small problem with this: She was his mother. And when you were an Italian, talking back to your mother was something that you NEVER did.

"But Ma, you know I can't keep sending you postcards wherever I go!" He complained, a distinctive New Yorker tone present in his Italian voice. "If I keep doing that, I'll end up forgetting to do something else, like...um...like forgetting to pack my undershorts in my suitcase! Wha? Nnn...yes, I did pack 'em, Ma...I said I packed 'em. Oh, is that right, well I'll remember to buy another set of boxers when I get to Toronto, that way I don't take a loss when I lose any of the FIFTY I've got sitting around in my back seat!"

The lights of the city were growing closer as the high-performance car unsteadily wavered down the highway. A few of the cars on the opposite side of the road were definitely happy to be there, while the ones unfortunate enough to be on his side of the road ended up suddenly have to pull over to the side to admire how well-paved the shoulder was for a good few seconds, all proportional to how long it took the Alfa Romeo to pass them. Meanwhile, its driver was in a frantic game of "Survive the Guilt Trip".

"Ma, don't be like that...I'm sorry! Okay, Ma? Is that what ya wanna hear? I'm sorry...look, tell ya what. When I get there I'll...I'll buy you a set o' plates? How about that? Ya like plates? See, I told you I'd get you somethin'! Anyhow, I've gotta get goin', it's late and I'm gonna need to keep my eyes on the road when I start gettin' close t-wha? What? Aw, Ma, don't start this again..."

The Alfa Romeo was still going fast as it began to intrude through traffic. His weaving managed to slip through the more leisurely cars in front of him, and he was fortunate enough not to run through any red lights, since they all glew green as he pierced through the traffic. However, he was getting dangerously closer and closer to a crash the further he went. It wouldn't take long before he ended up like a cigarette butt stuck inside of a stomped soda can...

"Listen, Ma, there's no way that Lantario Helvecticus Cravatti is gonna die by getting into a car crash while on the phone, caspice? Okay, Ma, love ya. Bye now."

The one who had referred to himself as Lantario summarily turned off his phone and suddenly recognized the fact that his precious Competizion was careening wildly through the streets at speeds that illegal street racers would wet themselves over. Then there was the inconvenient fact that the road in question was due to end in three blocks. His foot found the brake and depressed it as hard as it could, causing the wheels to screech and squeal as rubber ground its way off of the tires. One of the better selling points of the Alfa Romeo Competizion was its wonderful brakes, and they proved their worth here, as the coupe screamed to a stop, performing a near-perfect parallel park in between what looked like a Roto-Rooter van and a convertible. The only flaw was that these specific vehicles were going to give him a tight squeeze if he wanted to do anything other than get out of the car and walk around on foot.

After such an escape, he was thankful to be given the opportunity, and turned off the car. Lantario didn't get out yet, though, instead choosing to reach into his shirt pocket and withdraw a single poker chip. It was marble white and intricately detailed, but ever since he found the chip, his life had been pretty damn lucky, even by a gambler's standards. He kissed the good luck charm before replacing it in his breast pocket. Just to relax a little more, he decided to admire the tire marks his bootlegger's stop had made on the road.

Wow, he thought, marvelling at his own good fortune. I'm gonna have to gamble for plates AND tires.

This post has been edited by Skraelion Escardini on Jul 29 2008, 02:25 AM

[Malachi]

A woman in robes was lying down in front of an altar. Her flowing robes would've been colored a sky blue and gold combination had they not been drenched in the woman's blood. She was looking up at the two men who defeated. One looked like a scarecrow who should've been dismantled long ago. He seemed critically injured, but still stood before his foe. The other was quite the opposite. Strong, built like a boulder and seemed incredibly healthy.

"So... it's come to this," the woman said, "I should've killed you both when you escaped."

"Yeah, well, you fucked it up," the strong man said, "Come on, Luther, we're done here."

"I'm not done... she took my life from me!" Luther, the thin man yelled, but his voice could get any louder, due to his wounds.

"Luther, she's done," the strong man said, "Amelia ain't getting back up. Besides, you're too fucked to do anything. Come on, we've got to go."

"Folund...," Luther began, then sighed, "Fine."

Folund began walking out of the church and Luther turned. However, he looked back at the woman, who was glaring at him, smirking a little. Luther growled and flexed his hand a little. Suddenly, Amelia was engulfed in flames. Luther then limped out of the church, the pews to support himself.

Luther shot straight out of bed. He then rubbed his eyes and scratched his head, before looking around. He was at a motel in Toronto and a slightly seedy one at that. He tried to remember the dream he had.

Fuck... thought I forgot about that, Luther thought, scratching his head. He was trying to remember why the hell he was here in the first place. Then it hit him that he was supposed to meet someone here about business. He got out of bed, still in his travelling clothes. He walked out of the room, just in time to catch the barbeque

"Damnit, why can't I just have some peace and quiet?," Luther muttered. He then noticed a man in a red fedora and a red longcoat standing in front of the barbeque, the coat waving in the breeze. An artist would cream him or herself at the image. Luther ran up to the man to get a closer look. He didn't seem injured in the least, so Luther assumed he was the person who caused the blaze. Of course, he assumed this before he got to the man, but it was nice to know he wasn't being a complete dumbass.

"Yo, Red," Luther called out, "You alright? What the hell's going on?" Luther kept himself on guard, just in case the man turned out to be less than hospitable. Wouldn't be the first time.

This post has been edited by Malachi on Dec 1 2008, 01:46 AM

[Skraelion Escardini]

The tires were still baking around their rims as Lantario removed the key and replaced it in a pocket before opening the door of his crimson coupe. It was nearly taken off by a speeding Sedan, but Lantario had pulled the door back shut by instinct. After that, he decided to stop pushing the limits of his luck and climbed over to the passenger's seat before exiting his vehicle properly. The damp, puddle-spotted sidewalk was surprisingly devoid of people, even though the neon lights and the lamplights of civilization continued to glow around him. The gambler didn't complain. The less people there were walking around, the less of a chance his car would end up getting stolen. And speaking of which, he made sure to set his car alarm before turning left and pressing down the walkway.

He was due at the Palace of Solomon, a big casino that had only become famous within the last decade. There was a high-stakes poker tournament going on this very week, and he wouldn't miss it for the world. As an aside, he did have a demon or two to hunt while he was here, but that was just small change. Lantario was so good at winning bets that he often ended up tricking other people into hunting his bounties for him, then collecting the contract's reward on their behalf. Hence, he didn't think that there was much reason to change his style tonight. After all, one of his targets was due at the very same tournament. It was a perfect arrangement.

Lantario looked very suave and dapper in the outfit that stayed hidden under his traveling attire. When he got there, he would check in his coat, showing him to be dressed in a handsome dark green tuxedo, lined with faded gold lace trim along the button line and the sleeves. His loafers were weather-resistant and would look as smart on the velvet carpet as they looked on a soaked sidewalk. There was no rain or wind to damage his slicked-back hair, and all-in-all, that was all that he was worried about. The Palace of Solomon was only a couple of blocks away, so there was little chance of anything unexpected happening that could perturb the night's goals.

Yet, just to make sure, Lantario reached into his breast pocket and felt the edge of his lucky chip once more. Now, unless a firestorm suddenly happened, he doubted that anything could ruin the night's activities. As he approached the casino, a valet ran up to him, foolishly waiting for him to hand over the keys to a car he DIDN'T win in a card game. Just to tease the boy, the gambler took out his keys and jingled them for a moment in the valet's direction, then replaced the set.

"No thanks, kid." Lantario quipped, smirking cheekily at the monkey-suited youth. "Already taken care of."