Slip n' Slide [[Azraeth]]

[Flynn]

The Paladin shot a sidelong glance to the vampire beside him just in time to catch the amusement, but he couldn't have began to guess what the cause for it might have been. Flynn certainly didn't find the situation funny, but maybe there was some joke playing out in Azraeth's head that he simply wasn't privy to. In which case, all the power to him for making light of a tense situation. So, the only acknowledgement of his...hobby was a shrug of his shoulders. He didn't really know Az from Adam, and that left him with little reason to further explain his past history beyond what he had already offered. It wasn't something that he was necessarily proud of, and that's why he had worked his *** off to get out of it, to better himself and his circumstance in life. Granted, landing in Harper Rock and taking on mystical tattoos for the sake of the slaughter of the undead didn't exactly scream success, but...at least he wasn't rotting away in prison. Or worse, six feet under. His eyebrows did furrow, though, at the vampire's attempt at a joke. It might have been funny, had Flynn had the slightest notion as to what the hell that even meant. "For the sake of maintaining totally honesty, here...I have no idea what archeo-whatever-you-just-said is..." he admitted, even going so far as to offer a bit of a sheepish grin.

Then, they were back onto the topic at hand, even as the playfulness was continued in Az's tone. That seemed to be something Flynn was learning the longer that they were in the facility together. For living in a place as damned as their city, and a vampire to boot, he was surprisingly...upbeat. Optimistic in a way that the human almost never was, and it was such a drastic shift that it was unnerving. Like a complex cocktail of emotion. There was that stupid cliche somewhere that said smiles and laughter were contagious, and there was the possibility that Flynn could see some merit to it. It was as if the other man's overall attitude and easygoing demeanor aided in allowing some of the built tension across the Paladin's shoulders to melt away, and that alone was a reason to feel guarded and tense. Because, if anything, he shouldn't have felt at ease. Not just because Azreath was a vampire, but but because of where they were. What they were going.

It was all very confusing.

"No, that isn't my question...and don't make promises..." he retorted, waving a dismissive hand in the direction of the hallway to suggest that the vampire go about the business of finding their best chance at getting an access card. The last sight he was granted of the man was that grin; one oddly reminiscent of the Chershire Cat, which...could have been a fairly accurate representation, considering the knowledge of the man that he did have.

In the meantime, Flynn doubled back the way they had come. A few corpses had decorated the hallway, and they would, no doubt, have more ammunition for the Browning he had stolen. If the two of them were about to take on a small army for the sake of getting an access card, then he wanted to be prepared and carrying around a gun with no ammunition was just a waste. As he came upon one of the fallen soldiers, he knelt down beside the man and sighed, "Sorry about this, bud..." he muttered, beginning to riffle through pockets, looking for anything of use. Only after pulling free several clips did he move away a few feet, taking up the discarded handgun on the floor that had likely fallen when the soldier had. Unfortunately, the chamber was empty, and it became pretty clear just what might have happened to have landed the guy in the position he found himself in. Too slow on the reload and no place to hide. Poor ********.

Right then his phone vibrated in his pocket to signal an incoming text. He had yet to officially add Azraeth's number to the contact list, so it came up with the unknown number. Still, he recognized it from the group message with Mortll, shaking his head at the fact the vampire was texting at a time like this...when he was, essentially...right down the hall. That was until the images came up and he was granted with a sight of just what it was they were up against if they hoped to get their hands on a key to the next floor. The text that accompanied them had Flynn's eyes widening just a bit. Without another glance, he was stepping over the corpses and making his way down the hall, hoping to reach the point Az had left him before the vampire actually got back. The phone stayed out the entire trip, with his attention occasionally shifting between them and his surroundings, as he tried formulate a decent plan of attack in his head.

He managed to back, he assumed, before his companion from the lack of seeing him (though, he had visual proof that was deceiving), so he leaned back against the wall with eyes still on the prize. The commander. It was only when the vampire appeared again at his side that he spoke up, hardly looking away from the screen other than a quick glance to ensure it was who he thought it was, and not some random stranger looking to make him a late night meal or turn him into swiss cheese. "So, this may come as a surprise to you..." he began, sarcasm practically dripping from every word. "But, my tattoos don't really provide me a whole lot of pull over other humans in terms of magic, and as a vampire...I assume you have some neat tricks other than the shadow business. The way I see it...we can either try and take them on as the unit that they are...or attempt to scatter them so we can pick them off one by one." It was the scattering part that he would be pretty useless for.

Nose wrinkling, he glanced back down the hall where he had been looting the corpse and frowned. "I knew I should have taken the rifle from that kid, earlier..."

[Azraeth]

What Flynn was saying made a lot of sense. To attack them all at once would certainly be faster, but it would increase the odds of them sustaining damage. To split them up was not only going to ensure success, but minimize risk. The problem was timing. That was essentially the crux of the issue. Did Az want to spend a lot of time hunting each and every person down? In truth, he enjoyed the idea of that option because it meant he would get to spend a little more time building bonds with Flynn. But that was, he supposed, an entirely selfish point of view, which meant he basically wiped it the moment the notion surfaced. Time was, to use a cliché, of the essence. Every minute he wasted was a minute that someone else had the chance to get their hand on the cure, on the research pertaining to the cure.

Of course, that didn’t mean there were not ways to ensure Flynn did not come to harm. Az had been a vampire for years. He could frankly shrug off a lot of serious injuries. He was fairly certain that, no matter how suped up Paladins were, they didn’t have the regenerative powers of vampires. “Actually, that gives me an idea. Follow my lead.” He said when they were face to face again, only to turn on his heel and lift his arm enough to gesture with one hand in the direction he was walking. Their trip down the hall was a quiet one, footsteps muffled as if weighed down by the somehow physical burden of the responsibility on their shoulders. It was when they reached the bend in the hall, which would take them into a warzone, that he held up his hand again to motion for them to come to a halt. He then half twisted so he could peer into Flynn’s eyes once more.

When I give you the signal, I want you to break cover and fire in the direction of the soldiers quickly. They are going to most likely be shooting erratically, so be careful not to move too far away from the wall. His mental voice poured into Flynn’s mind so as to not make any sound.

It was quiet after that, and Az could hear the thumping of the Paladin’s heart in his ears. He centered himself on that sound, letting the rhythm of it ground him the way a person might have used a metronome to enter a trance-like state. Suddenly the air itself seemed to thicken. And it was as if darkness had coaelseced into a black miasma. Which was to say that the lights in the hall began to falter as the area became blanketted in thick, living shadows. It was as if dusk had rolled rapidly in and the are had become a starless, new moon night. It was, in fact, so black that the soldiers could not make out their hands in front of their faces. To each of them, perhaps, they felt that despite being relatively close, in that kind of dimness, they might as well have been miles apart. The shouting began a moment later. Some seemed to think they had gone blind. Those ones rubbed at their eyes. Others screamed that they were under attack, and began firing their weapons (much as Az had predicted) in all directions.

A few managed to shoot each other, which led to the scent of blood and the sound of lungs working overtime to try and breathe past blood filling them.

The phenomena was contained to the space beyond the bend in the hall, and yet the area immediately around Az and Flynn was still normally lit. That illumination could not penetrate the wall of pure blackness. As if there was a blank space in the world where the soldiers should have been.

NOW! Az commanded. And it was at that moment, the tangible tenebrosity began to fight back against the men who were shooting blindly through it. It formed spikes which slammed through bodies, claws which began to tear at flesh and clothing and hair and bone. It was like a pitfall trap, but it came from all sides and flailed madly in on itself as if attempting to snuff out every ounce of life inside. It was a cage of death. It was a box of darkness. It was death.

And when it began to clear away, what was left was almost unrecognizable as the strewn out and bloody corpses of humans. Some of them still twitched and struggled for life. Others looked almost as if the skin had been stripped from bone. They were little more than a collection of wounds, of gashes, of gouges, and empty of life. Az pushed his hands into his pockets as he began down the hall. He whistled to cover the sticky sound of him tracking over blood and internal organs which had been spilled all over the floor, and then he gathered up a card from what had once been a commander. He held it up for Flynn to see. “Ready to move on?” he asked.