Path of the Vampire forum

There were two types of rage. The first burned hot and fast; grew like wildfire and threatened to consume everything in its path. Madness given breath inside of someone’s skull. Renard was known to hold this type of anger like a torch - he had for decades. In fact, as the world seemed to slow down around him, he glanced towards Beckett and thought to himself Do you remember that first time? The first time Beck had seen Ren walk right up to another boy and hammer a fist into his face so hard that a nose had nearly flattened on impact. There was an irony to Beck being named Knuckles and Ren being named Tails. It had been the former who had been forced to drag the latter away from a face up, but otherwise prone form. All Renard had seen was red and the dimming of light around the corners of his vision. All he had smelled was blood and the desire to feel bone crunch under his split and bleeding knuckles. Even before that, he’d had something of a reputation. Like beating a boy with a Harry Potter book. To his credit; it had been the only handy thing at the time.

Beck always had been very good at keeping Renard calm. Distracting him really.

The other type of rage was cold. It spread slowly, methodically. Like crystalline ice crystals; it was carefully ordered and intelligent. He had noticed, since being turned, when he got angry; it normally wasn’t the chaotic emotional storm inside of his head that demanded he act, and act quickly. Without thinking. Without considering. The entire scene seemed to move in slow motion the second adrenaline hit his blood stream. He pulled away from the skeletal figure he had just destroyed and glanced around. He watched the way Arauchia bested another one or two of the monsters. He probably should have been amused by the way her kick took the skull of one and smashed it into the other, a distance away. GOAAAALLLLL!! Except he felt no such compulsion. It was as if he was walking outside of himself.

That was how he also noticed that Ysmir seemed to be having a little bit of trouble with the undead things he was fighting. That was also how he picked up on movement down the hall in the direction they had been headed. “Head’s up. We have some more company incoming.” He called out, his voice strangely devoid of its normal good humor. He moved with uncommon speed, standing overtop the figure which threatened both his mate and Ysmir, a sneaker lifting into the air, only to descend like a pile driver with enough force to crush bone and kick up dust. The moment his foot righted itself, he was reaching under his windbreaker, and ripping out what appeared to be a glass bottle with duct tape on it. The bottle was filled with what looked like some mostly transparent, albeit dirty liquid. He hooked his teeth on the cork to yank it free and then grabbed a rag free of his pocket. He dumped some of the contents onto the kerchief before stuffing it into the bottle.

Seconds later, he reached for a lighter with his non-gasoline soaked hand and brought the thing to life. The cocktail flew through the air, right into the tunnel they had been looking to go down, only to erupt in flames. Of course. It wasn’t going to last very long at all. Really just until the gas burned up. The idea though, was to distract whatever was coming their way for long enough for them to make a hasty get away. “Alright, time for us to get our tactical retreat on.” He said. “We can regroup and go down another of the tunnels." With that, he began back in the direction from which they had come.