Once Bitten and Never Shy-(Closed)

[Satine]

There were so many things to remember about the world Satine had suddenly been thrust into. Some of the unspoken rules made sense. Not feeding with a live audience. That hardly needed clarification after Bunny was the source of that first lesson. The next point that was not to be forgotten was whatever immortal abilities she did have were not to be used in the transits or public places like some sideshow vaudeville act. It would seem the human population was not ready to accept her budding talents. It was fine by her. She knew how to keep secrets. Do everything but what she witnessed growing up. Her mother was an example of how fail miserably at hiding what you never wanted the world to know.

At the top of the list of what to do was getting indoors before the annoying internal curfew kicked in and she fell into that all consuming sensation of deep sleep. Satine learned that the hard way. The mind blowing pain of being a piece of flesh submerged in a deep fryer took its course and she woke just enough to signal crawling to save what was left of her carcass before the sun turned her to ash. She barely made it into the entrance of the sewer with shreds of well done necrotic skin stinking up the space where she sat mortified.

What to do, what not to do and what would get her reduced to a cold flesh pulp by Mr.& Mrs. Andras was never far from her thoughts. Satine had been given the run down of the minor basics. Not that it was the lack of interest on Micah's part in giving her the full inservice on "Now that you have fangs you need to know what to do with them". He had a lot of wtf on his plate to deal with. Much of it was currently attempting to deal with her sister, Velveteen. It seemed that it was anything but a simple task. He said a few times that she was not enthused at all about how things turned out. It sucked. Of course it did. For them that is.

For Satine it was as if she had been given carte blanche with that epic move of Micah's to bring her back from the brink of a full sayonara and that is all folks ending. Since then it was good. Really good in fact. She was feeling the anticipation of what next in every moment her eyes were open from the tips of her pale petite toes to the ends of her long black hair dangling from her scalp. It was like she went through all she did in her short and shitty existence up until the point Micah fed her immortality just for that very purpose.

The lifelong mission to find her supposedly make believe twin was over. Satine saw her as the confirmation she was right all along. The missing piece to her fragile chain of sanity was within reach the whole time. Velveteen. It was really all about her. No more talking to mirrors carrying on endless conversations that always turned out so perfectly. Each one played out as if she had planned the entire dialog. Now Satine knew different. She wasn't nuts. Stupid Chester. She was an identical twin all along. You can only hide something like that from a person for so long.

The nightly route Satine developed would be subject to change. She usually went through the sewers then up to arrive outside the slums. From there she would go in and find the first shifty face looking for trouble and toss her hat into the ring by interrupting the less than savory business of drug dealing at hand. When that lost it’s entertainment value she would wander through the dank dark rooms to find gun parts and increasing numbers of two bit gangsters that would hardly be missed. A small exhilaration was to be had in killing some of the higher ups that kept the drugs moving. If she was successful she would grab what was dropped in the chaos and sell the guns and drugs, oddly, to the local shops. The merchants were just as shady as the gang members themselves but if it put money in her pockets and robbed someone from their mind numbing high then she was pleased in her efforts. She needed the money. She was not interested in signing up to save another lost soul. Her junkie babysitting days were over. Blood and money was where it was at.

Saturday night it was and as soon as the sun was fast asleep Satine was heading to find out for herself what she didn’t bother to take the time to ask before she left Pandemonium. In her defense it was still awkward. The hotel was full of pale faces and sedate bodies. Sure, she felt like she belonged there. She also felt an ominous warning fill her with each set of eyes she made brief contact with. It certainly wasn’t a girl scout camp she checked into. It was a multi-level structure full of killers that had far sharper teeth than she did. And family it was.

Forming bonds took time and effort. Satine was patient. time had proven that in her quest to find what she had been looking for. As for the bonds, well, she would apply herself to such once she got the hunger that constantly plagued her under control. That was her current excuse for not asking Micah or Jayden about the locked up catacombs and mausoleum before she left. She was so ******* hungry. If she got enough she would be able to deal with others. A little more and she would be fine. What could it hurt? It was just a couple hours to see what she had not seen before. It would keep her mind off her. It was annoying as all **** having no contact. She was sure everything would change once she got to finally talk to her. Sisters could be such pains. Satine couldn’t see why she was making it so difficult.

Rumor had it the government had its dirty little secrets in Harper Rock all but locked up completely. Satine wondered what else they were hiding. She had a mouth full of teeth that were to be hidden. She found out the walking dead were real. Obviously the government knew something was going on. She was sure there was a honey pot of information to be had if she looked hard enough. She was not waiting for someone to hand her a brochure and point her towards the tour bus.

After a long dark hike through the sewers Satine finally arrived to where she intended to be. Despite the hazards she had heard of she strolled right into the catacombs without incident. The mausoleum area was cold and smelled like death was abundant. Nothing new there. The whole city reeked. Other than that it was not incredibly impressive. So much for the anticipated excitement of discovering what no one else had.

The new necromancer had two choices. Call it quits and head back or continue on to see what perhaps could still be ahead. Satine traveled by foot deeper into the darkness finding her hunger was increasing as well as the disappointment. Every fading corner she left behind was a reminder that she likely was in for seeing nothing more than what she could find in the quarantine zone.

[Hunter (DELETED 2392)]

How long had they been stationed here – four months, five months, six or more? Hunter couldn’t remember and thought to himself that maybe it had been years, not months. It was difficult to tell. Days and nights bled into one another as it was, blink and you miss a week. Everything was so monotonous, that was the problem. His station was to watch the entrance of this Mausoleum and make sure that nothing went in or came out of there. Of course, Hunter knew that it was fairly pointless, what they were doing. He knew of the secret entrance under the sewers which the supernatural types used to get into the catacombs and Mausoleum. He’d used it a few times himself after all. Since nobody wanted to hear him out though, Hunter had to assume that his station was there only to stop the normal folk from getting in. Maybe he was losing it, but, it just seemed like a lot of things were being managed ineffectively around here, opening up opportunities for the supernatural types. One could almost claim that there was some kind of conspiracy going on. Hunter would never claim that, well, not out loud at any rate; you never could be sure of who would hear what in this city and what it would cost you.

When Hunter’s shift ended, he decided – since it was on his mind – to go down into the depths of the catacombs and reconfirm his notions about all those supernatural types. It wouldn’t take too long to get in there and he’d discovered that he was pretty capable of looking after himself so long as he didn’t piss off too many of those with the fangs or too many of those that were malformed beasts, the Mooncalves. Those skeletons were pretty easy to take down and all he had on him was his piece and a small bludgeoning weapon he’d put together with a baseball bat, some nails and barbed wire. He didn’t really need to do much in the way of melee and he’d developed some of his abilities that made fighting these undead nightmares something of a breeze. The jingling rattle of bones echoed in the chasms as Hunter pushed his way through. He wasn’t looking to do anything in particular, wasn’t looking to get in anyone’s way and for the most part he was succeeding. Still, Hunter could feel eyes on his back. Somewhere in the darkness he could sense they were watching him. He kept his steps light and made sure not to stay still for too long.

[Satine]

Satine was surprised that this place existed when it was plentiful with reasons to warrant a bomb blasting everything to dust. It would take time to truly appreciate what she was becoming aware of. A long time she figured. The world was nothing like the small limited one she left behind. It was like she arrived to another planet. What she saw had more questions than answers forming in her head. How could the pockets of creatures that she had witnessed in the qz and here continue? Each creature she encountered was hardly moving to get out of her way. It was ready to take her on and put her down as if it expected her to come at them. She gave each one the business end of her sword and gun.

After several minor battles Satine was feeling the wear on her energy. She finally held back with the next cluster that appeared and moved on leaving the rest to whoever else came along. Decidedly it was worse than cockroaches. She dealt with one that would be discovered and it was as if two more popped up from the shadows of the next corner she turned. Just as her search was coming to a possibly tiring and disappointing end she heard something that offered promise in changing her intended route back to the sewers.

Footsteps. They were soft and easy to decipher from the other sounds of the ambitious dead that moved around the network of narrow passageways. The monotonous bone on stone scraping was lost on her as she found the inspiration to pursue the source of that subtle sound of soles of shoes meeting the cold surface beneath her own feet. This claimed her full attention. So many possibilities came to mind as her steps moved with increased purpose and care as to being light footed. It would be rather defeating to let those feet know she was in close proximity.

A few minutes of trailing brought Satine to find the back of a male traveling on foot. She still was far enough behind that she could enjoy the beginning of the adventure she was about to embark on. It always was an adventure to come upon the warm and breathing bodies that were a huge temptation to the young set of fangs. Anticipation tickled her appetite instantly. She was carrying the gnawing ache of hunger in the layers of her body continuously but she still had the strength left to keep it from erupting into some impulsive move on her part. She wanted to explore the source that had effectively piqued her interest. She was prepared to savor each and every layer it had to offer. That was beginning with the warmth that lingered in the air as he progressed ahead of her. It was as if clouds of clues were left just for her to discern who he could possibly be, what he was about and what he could offer to her in reward for her prospective efforts. Enthusiasm bloomed in the budding necromancer with each new step her petite feet took.

[Hunter (DELETED 2392)]

Hunter did not know much about curses or enchantments, but he felt that at least one of these things was at work in this place. Whether the creatures in this place never truly died, or there was a ‘Hydra effect’ in motion; cut one down and two more grow back in its place. You probably could never clear this area of the monsters which inhabited it, making it the perfect battle ground for Vampires and other supernatural folk and the perfect place to seal off from the public. If the citizens of Harper Rock ever found out that there were monsters roaming just beneath their feet and that the military was unable to stop them, panic would grip the city and maybe even the world. Maybe the government wasn’t aware of the depths of the roots they were digging at here, but at least they knew enough to warrant a closing of any obvious ways down here. He’d never heard of any troops being deployed into the Mausoleum or the Catacombs, but he had his doubts that all orders were simply to sit there and look powerful and useful. Sure thing the presence of the military could put the general public in various measures of security and curiosity and suspicion, especially if all they did was camp out in front of a church, basically.

These stagnant thoughts clouded Hunter’s mind as he battled through an army’s worth of skeletons. By now he was feeling the ache in his arms and fingers, an ache that persisted into his shoulders and ran down his spine like a thick liquid in his joints. He was tiring quickly, his legs getting heavier like that jelly-like liquid was becoming thicker and making its way into his knee joints. It was fortunate that these creatures were slow and their weak bodies easily broken. As another monster came for him, tendons straining and forcing its disfigured bones to make an attack, Hunter made a step back to dodge and then he countered with an attack of his own. That melee weapon he’d prepared was too heavy to hold, so he dropped it, picking up his combat pistol and squeezing off several rounds. He couldn’t miss from this distance; several bullets caught the zombie in the ribcage, some more piercing the skull. Ordinarily one would attack the brain, but, Hunter wasn’t even sure these things had enough tissues to make up a brain anymore. His plan, if you could call it that, was to break it apart. His bullets shattered bone on impact, blowing apart the spine and shoulder blades that kept the parts of the creature connected; it fell to the floor with a satisfying rattle and Hunter went to the floor with a slump.

As he sat there catching his breath, legs stretched out in front of him, hands by his sides, the gun still ready; Hunter wasn’t aware that he was being watched. If he had been, he might have shuffled along, do whatever it took to stay out of the way. This back room of the catacombs had no way out but the way he’d come; the entrance his stalker was lingering in. It quickly occurred to him that his actions here hadn’t been all that smart, but then again, Hunter wasn’t the type for forethought. He was the kind of guy that acted first and dealt with the consequences later, the type of guy that would get stuck into the middle of something and not be bothered to find out anything about the past. You could call him lazy and you wouldn’t be wrong, you also wouldn’t be confronted on that judgement. Hunter could accept his faults, but he couldn’t change them. He should have been old enough to change them by now, he was in his late twenties, but he still acted like a kid; some foolhardy teenager still struggling for air and acceptance in a world trying to drown him out for good.

Eventually, Hunter dragged himself to his feet. He couldn’t sit here all night, it wasn’t safe. He knew a place he could hide out and get his energy back, so he decided to make a break for it. He would head to the Mausoleum and rest up in one of the private spaces there. He knew at least two that weren’t readily occupied so he couldn’t disrupt them and they couldn’t disrupt him. It was a long walk from where he was and the journey there would no doubt he fraught with danger. The zombies seemed to lunge for you if you stayed in one spot long enough, kind of like the ones with a bit more flesh on their bones; Vampires, Hunter assumed. He’d heard the rumours, been told about them from the people calling themselves Paladins, the people who’d trained him to be just like them. Except he wasn’t like them at all; Hunter had no greater purpose in this life and was much like kelp floating on the sea, going where the tide would take him. He could have done more, but **** it. He lived each day to day with no real desire to live at all. Those thoughts made him heavier, but would pull through as he always did, just slower and a lot more vulnerable…

[Satine]

Satine found the male a curious sort. Her eyes held him in her focus and ignored anything else that would otherwise be lingering about her. Perhaps that was not wise but there was time to learn from lessons that would come to her for such errors in her young judgement. Silver orbs danced with his steps. He was not heavy in each placement his feet took. He moved as if he was more than aware of what would come out of the corners and rattle to some sort of challenge. Yes, he was prepared. That left her to believe he would not be surprised to find the likes of her kind moving around as well.

Satine was not aware of all the dangers he truly posed. There was talk of humans who had been given power and were a threat. She had seen those bizarre types in the sewers and found herself in several skirmishes when she got too close. She saw her way out of each battle marked up but rarely lost so her confidence perhaps was superseding her ability. There was a huge difference between those that stuck to the sewers and those who had grown far stronger and gained powers she had yet to meet the business end of. So much to learn and no better time to start.

Back to the current focal point of her undivided attention. So far she gathered he was warm blooded and not likely willing to look for some small talk or exchange of names and numbers. That was one of the first things what she would have to work on. It was the delight of the challenge she was about to take on that inspired her to make her first move.

As much as Satine’s hunger was kicking in so was her pleasure in being the role of predator. There was a sense of unlimited possibilities she could entertain the more her mind committed to taking on this target. In her mind she could take him now. It was quiet, dark and so easy to give in to what would motivate her to do so. The risk that went with it and the mess that such an impulsive act would leave was a minimal deterrent at best. Simple as that. She had yet to appreciate how dangerous a world could be if it were to have what she was and proof of such in it’s face. It would be good for the moment and she would be satisfied, perhaps. However, the ache and hunger would come back again. She needed a little something more to sate her. This one had hints of more promise than just a quick fix. She wanted to take in all that rushed beneath the male’s flesh and pull it slowly from his veins. Could it be possible to consume someone so completely? She wondered as she slipped back with light steps pressing her body against the cold stone behind her. If so, why him? Satine figured she needed to start somewhere. Fine tuning her otherwise limited skills for the hunt and kill was an added bonus.

Satine stepped back several more steps and opened the route once again for the human to move through. The activity otherwise was next to nothing and had lacked all that she had anticipated. Until him. This gave her reason to believe it was fate that brought this particular male to her awareness. Was her appetite that powerful? Perhap it was. Right then and there she decided he would feel that special before she was finished. She would be willing to promise him that if she was able to get close enough without ruining the surprise. That would have to wait.

The sounds of Satine’s shoes against the surface beneath them lightly hissed as small pebbles rolled then were pressed into dust. Her back caressed the wall as she slipped deeper into the corridor that was adjoining the one she just stepped out of. While he moved she would be the shadow he overlooked and absorb all that he revealed about himself as she followed closely behind.

[Hunter (DELETED 2392)]

Hunter felt eyes on him as he pushed through from the back room to the more open corridors and the larger room that led toward the Mausoleum. Hunter ignored the gaze on his back, on his throat, because he always felt that pressure in this city. Whether it was paranoia or truth, it didn’t matter to Hunter; he wasn’t about to let it get to him. Not now, not ever. Still, he let out a breath when he entered the larger space; the entrance of the Mausoleum in sight. The open space provided little shelter and cover and although he guessed that he couldn’t outrun one of those fuckers with the fangs, he could at least be sure he could see his attacker wasn’t coming out of a blind corner. On the other hand, he’d been mystified before. Some had appeared out of thin air, knocking him out, drinking his blood and leaving him to wander. It could be said that he put himself in harm’s way purposefully, but, Hunter was the obnoxious type. When people said, ‘don’t go there, it’s dangerous!’ he felt a need to go there and find out for himself. Again, death never really bothered Hunter. If it had, he wouldn’t have joined the army in the first place. Besides, his boldness often put the fanged ones off. He saw them veer from him as much as he should have veered from them, like they expected his blood to be sour. He was fine with that assumption.

In the large, open space of the lower catacombs level, the rubber soles of Hunter’s combat boots made soft sounds against the floor. The catacombs were never quiet, however. The sound of gunfire in the distance coupled with the rattle of bones, the shriek of metal, the scrape of flesh, the spatter of blood could be heard throughout the area. Hunter often wondered why he couldn’t hear anything of the likes when he was on shift, sat directly outside the Mausoleum doors. He could hear it in the sewers that connected to the catacombs themselves, but then again, he could have been mistaken. Hunter Footsoldiers and Paladin Bezerkers lurked the damp stone of the sewers, looking for easy prey in the fanged kind. They never bothered Hunter though, suggesting that they could tell the difference between those with warm blood and those with colder. Hunter had mastered all of the skills that were available to him as a Paladin, but he could never identify a Vampire with the ease that these other Paladins could. On the one hand, it was utterly mystifying, and yet, Hunter might have been able to understand why they hadn’t shared such gifts with him.

He’d never really gone to the effort of attending meetings or expressing much of a want to be amongst them, but he did help out when he was asked and he did do the veritable random act of kindness ting. Another thing that Hunter did quite frequently was set traps. It didn’t matter to him who would fall into them and he never put much thought into why he did it. He targeted the fanged ones, partly because he thought they had it too easy as it was, and partly because he was bitter about the amount of times they’d bitten him, left him to wander dazed and confused; potentially into traffic. Even the ones who might claim they were pacifists or the like, he despised. He didn’t even like his own father who was among them. He didn’t trust them; might have been acknowledged that he feared them. So what was one trap in a Vampire hive to creatures who could recover limbs like lost hair? Anything he did was not a dent to their greater masses, their greater power, yet they were the sensitive kind. Heaven forbid you wander aimlessly into their private sanctuaries! Sanctuaries they probably never even visit, but keep as a kind of back-up home. It’s death upon you if you dare invade. For all their power and knowledge and age, they were still Humans – just Humans on steroids really and it was time for an intervention.

After stalking quietly toward the entrance to the Mausoleum, Hunter paused at the doorway. That pressure on the back of his neck was playing heavily on his mind, but then, so was the idea of catching the fuckers out. Hunter knelt down, preparing a bear trap; something innocuous. There were plenty of things to conceal it; the rubble of bones, stones, dust, shreds of cloth. Hunter made short work of setting his trap and making it practically invisible before he disappeared into the Mausoleum. He would head north, right to the far end and head inside one of the abandoned residences; one among many. He just needed a break, to catch up on some of the energy burnt out from smashing bones. The fact that it was privately owned gave him the peace of mind that he wouldn’t be disturbed by any of the fanged ones, but just in case, he had many more traps where that one came from.

[Satine]

Satine all but ignored the mini eruptions of sound that burst randomly in the distant passages that surrounded her. Each was intense and varied in pitch. However, they were also short lived. She gathered that their sources were likely the same as well. The sounds of dying were usually powerful but disappointingly minimal in duration. She had heard them before and anticipated she would countless times in the future. That was the extent of the focus that the midnight tressed vampire gave them.

The female was gradually lost in the wake of thoughts that warm blooded male was inspiring and leaving her with as he moved on taking that lovely glow with him. The scent of what she imagined to be his blood filled her as she closed her eyes. For a brief second her mind sampled him. She had to even if it was a small torment she was self-inflicting. The blood moved like warm silk across the surface of her cool tongue. It pooled behind her fixed lips. The meeting of her mouth to his neck would be tight and instantaneous. An inescapable seal would form and it would deny anything access that tried to break it.

That is where the pleasure would kick in while the hunger that burned within her would subside. The satisfaction would envelope every layer of her cool body and perhaps even his. It was still too soon to tell if he would enjoy the shocking discovery of her full intent. As for her mind, yes, it would feel that all consuming rush of sweet release.

Silver orbs flicked to awareness from beneath the lids that snapped upward. Satine imagined the scent of him washing across her face and ultimately sinking deep in her cold lungs. She planned to wear him afterward and take him wherever she went. He would not be forgotten. She would think of him often. Often enough that hopefully it would give her a reprieve from the far too numerous thoughts of Chester that otherwise plagued her.

The sweep of her tongue caressed her top lip as she pulled away from the stone surface. It was such a brief indulgence but in that time he had disappeared. What could have been a moment full of disappointment was in fact reason for her to smile. He was gone but not without a trace. The scent of him lingered like an inviting trail left behind just for her. She allowed it to lead her towards the entrance of the mausoleum. She looked back where the scent went in a different direction. Did he leave or did he stay? She felt the tingle of curiosity call to her in both directions. There was only one way to find out.

Satine stepped forward towards the only entry point into the mausoleum. As soon as she did she was greeted with the surprising pain of a vicious bite that she had never anticipated. She looked down and found the metal that was locked on her lower leg slick with her blood as she reached for it. She could feel her bones move as she tried to tug it off. This was not good. Not at all.

The necromancer sat down and began to pull hard at the joints of the metal jaws. It was an instant battle she was not pleased to have thrust upon her. It involved the nearly impossible task of ignoring the rage that was building courtesy of the pain growing bone deep and climbing like a weed up her thigh. He was being so difficult already. She would remember this. Of course she would. Her hands pulled hard at the centers of the metal gripped into her flesh and growled as the trap finally released her.

A bon fire erupted in the necromancer’s head as she looked down to her source of pain. The flames calmed as she was witness to her blood forming a small but growing pool beneath her feet as she stood up. It was always a disturbing sight. Her blood was so precious and it was outside of her body. It belonged within her. Not on the ground beneath the soles of her shoes. The slight weakness setting in from the minor loss was relieved as she felt the energy quickly replenished. The perk a little one and hardly enough to have her ignoring the pain that was working its way to her hips. It seems he was full of surprises. And that was a good thing. So was she. Her feet turned her around and carried her to follow that trail he was so willing to leave behind.

[Hunter (DELETED 2392)]

The Mausoleum granted extra space, fewer shadows to sneak around in, but that didn’t mean Hunter felt safe by any stretch of the imagination. Those walking skeletons still prowled here in abundance and they weren’t alone; great shuffling masses of muscle and teeth stalked the same stone corridors. Hunter had come into conflict with them before and was no match for their strength and sheer will to rip and slash. He often had to spare whatever energy he had left to flee and find some place to escape where they couldn’t follow; reminding him a bit too much of those terrible movies where Neanderthals had to escape into caves to avoid a T Rex. Along with these massive beasts, Mooncalves, there were of course the stealthy fanged ones to contend with and since most of them kept a residence here, Hunter felt the need to quicken his pace. The room he was aiming for was right at the back of the Mausoleum, but he barely made it past the doorway of the first large room before he was intercepted. In his haste, Hunter’s boot swung heavily, flicking a stone into the air. The pebble arced, guided by Fate or something worse, directly into the face of one of the hulking beasts. It roared, eyes red and dangerous – the ferocity of a Great Ape fuelled with Satan’s wrath then came charging toward Hunter.

Having neither the time nor the energy to fight, Hunter opted to evade. A fist, barbed with serrated projections of bone that weren’t entirely unlike shark teeth, was swung toward him. Hunter had to skip backwards to dodge that blow; barely managing to skirt it and having his jacket torn in the process. Searing its gaze into its empty paw, however, only made the Mooncalf angrier. It flicked the shreds of Hunter’s jacket free from its grasp and then pounded the ground with both fist. The colossal sound and vibration that came off of that almost pushed Hunter down as it was, but he couldn’t allow himself to be a punching bag without putting up a bit of a fight. Exhausted as he was, Hunter activated his Kensai and Blessed abilities; he would need every bit of advantage as he could get his fingers on and as it happened, the Kensai discipline made his weapon feel like an extension of himself while the Blessed discipline increased the weapon’s power. Having discarded his make-shift weapon earlier, all Hunter had on him now was a combat pistol and a bayonet. He couldn’t hope to compete with a Mooncalf with these toy weapons, but Hunter did hope that if he injured it enough, he could slow it down and escape.

Bayonet in hand, as the Mooncalf came bounding toward Hunter again, the Paladin gave a dart to the right to avoid; just like dodging the charge of a bull. A blowing snort followed in the wake of yet another miss and as the Mooncalf turned to recover and attack again, Hunter drove the blade into the Mooncalf’s side. The scream of flesh was as loud as the bellow erupting from the hulking beast. Hunter wasn’t quick enough to pull his weapon away and make a break for it, so was propelled across the room with a vicious clout, knocking more than the air out of him. Hunter was positive he felt something break from that direct hit to his ribcage. He gathered himself into an arch on the stone floor, cradling his chest with folded arms; his face and knees holding him up away from the ground. Blue eyes watched through the dust as the Mooncalf stomped its feet, shifted, howled, snarled and dripped drool from its jaws. Its eyes were on him too, on its fallen prey, and it was if the creature didn’t know what to do now that the skinny bag of bones was no longer moving. Was this a predacious assault or was the Mooncalf just responding to a threat? Hunter didn’t know and he didn’t care. If the Mooncalf came at him again, he’d have to act.

[Satine]

Satine was feeling the ache of the damage that the trap left behind on her lower leg. If she stopped to think about it would be one of those things that would have her retreating back to the hotel and tending to the wound itself. She had endured worse but so far the gains in this little adventure were proving to cost her more than she anticipated when she first decended to grab a quick bite. What caused it would not allow her to be deterred. He had her full attention now.There was a man she was sure was dying to meet her. Or she was dying to meet him. Either way one of the two was in for a surprise. Perhaps a bold and baseless thought. Incredibly assuming on her part but the necromancer was too fixed on the thought of what she pursued to think clearly.The thought of it alone had the soft sounds of her uncomfortable steps echoing lightly behind her as she followed the trail of his scent.

Sounds of those messy and rather annoying beasts increased as Satine’s steps did. Something had riled up what was coming to view and now she found just what she was looking for. There he was! She watched him fly through the air with less than the greatest of ease. It appeared he found himself in a bit of a tussle. Satine felt she had only two options. One was to walk away and find her replenishment elsewhere or the other which was to continue forward with her plan. It would have been far easier to execute the latter if she were minus the wound to her leg but ideal was far more than she would expect. Not when she was witnessing such determination in this male. His efforts had to result in more than the rough landing on the stone he just received.

Satine saw the perfect window of opportunity arising from this. She would come in and be the heroine. Surely her attempts to come to his rescue at such a compromising time would be seen as helpful and disarming as well. If she were such a threat why would she do such a thing. then she could strike while he was unprepared and that would be the start of a wonderful exchange. Satine had her moments and despite what her history had been since her arrival to the city that sat above them she could be somewhat charming if she was pressed. Hopefully this would be one of those moments. If not then back up plan would be dealing with the man who appeared to be in some discomfort once the disgusting mass was dealt with and done interfering with their eventual meeting.

Satine still was figuring out she lacked a lot of what she thought she had under her belt for abilities. The rush of the blood that was loaded into her veins made her feel invincible. Sometimes that was a good thing and other times not so much. With a pull of her hand she retrieved the gun that she had limited skill in using. She was not even sure bullets would work on such a thing but figured there was only one way to find out. With a steady hand and some distance out of reach she took aim and with the curl of her fingertip she heard the series of rapid fire shots giving off a ricocheting ping and a few sinking into what was in her sights as the loud weapon rattled its own sounds from use. The beast took apparent offense and now she was on the receiving end of a rather upset creature barreling its way towards her like she set it on fire. Speaking of fires she needed to start one because she could feel all sorts of bad vibes coming from the impending impact. Wood. She scrambled to think of wood as she backpedaled. It was unsuccessful.

“Oh my *******…” She was cut off as the sensation of claws unexpectedly serrated her body and she too was sent flying into a rather well constructed and unforgiving mass of stone. “Gods.” Escaped her lips as her scalp burned on the rough slide down to the floor beneath.

[Hunter (DELETED 2392)]

There was a sound that Hunter recognised but couldn’t immediately compute; the sound of rapid gun fire. As the bullets struck the Mooncalf’s back, a dull thudding sound pelleted the air like the bullet had struck nothing but sand. Hunter couldn’t see any blood from his position on the floor, but the Mooncalf turned sharply, nostrils flaring and eyes searing toward the direction of the gunfire. It seemed angry rather than injured and it charged at the gunslinger with a roar and a stomp, striking her with the same, unrestrained force which had crushed Hunter’s ribs. The woman flew like a ragdoll at the wall before she fell into slump. As the Mooncalf moved to examine this new bag of lean meat and bones, Hunter stole the opportunity to get to his feet. In his head, he was thinking about how impossible this situation was. His bayonet had done nothing to hurt the beast and even a pelting from a machine gun had done little but piss it off. How was he expected to overcome such a force of rage with nothing but a knife and a pistol? After all, he’d broken at least two ribs from the feel of it and his right arm was giving him grief from the fall. Once he was on his feet cradling his wounds with slumped shoulders, he probably didn’t look all that dissimilar to the zombies that were crawling around here. He looked to the woman, logic and instinct telling him to flee, but maybe something like goodness and decency told him to stay. It was more than likely just bravado though, because he couldn’t leave someone to suffer for his faults. This woman had come to help him, probably, and he be damned if he was just going to flee and leave her to fate.

Hunter sighed, angry with himself because he had a clue about how much this **** was likely going to hurt. Damn pride, damn morals. If he should have the luck to walk away from this ordeal, it wasn’t going to be with anything less than a fracture or a potentially fatal gash. Hunter knew his limits, even with his peculiar supernatural gifts, so he wasn’t going to be trying to take this Mooncalf down so much as wound it enough that they could both make an escape. Maybe he didn’t know enough about these creatures, but he figured that it needed to see in order to figure out where to throw its weight around. Hunter was a half-decent shot and he drew his pistol as he jogged around the side of the beast, prepared to wave his arm around, get its attention, then shoot for the eyes. As it turned out, Hunter succeeded with approximately half of his plan. He waved his arms around, shouted, caught the beast’s attention, but his shots were well of their mark. The Mooncalf might have been great in stature and girth, but it wasn’t proportionate in the slightest. Its eyes were like pin-pricks on a wide, flat face. It didn’t seem to have anything resembling a nose, but its mouth was immediately apparent; King Kong’s jaws protruded from a plasticine face. Hunter’s bullets struck the Mooncalf’s upper jaw, another above the right eye socket and the last between the eyes themselves. He hadn’t succeeded in blinding the beast, but the Mooncalf howled and clutched its bleeding face.

It wasn’t immediately apparent what Hunter should do in this situation. He didn’t know how long the Mooncalf would be distracted by its pain or what it would do now that it actually felt pain. Still, Hunter looked to the woman who’d been assaulted too and swiftly found his way over to her side. He reached for an arm without thinking too much about it and gave it a gentle tug. It wasn’t his intention to haul her arse from off the floor and carry her away because he’d been wise to how the women in this city were perfectly capable of looking after themselves. Besides that, there was a vibe coming off of her that was all too familiar to the Paladin. He felt more threatened by her than he did from the Mooncalf, but pride was still talking loud in his ear about how he had to return the favour.

“Hey, come on now,” he said, that Pittsburghese accent flowing through thickly. “We can’t sit here all night n’at, we gotta move.”