When Justice Falls

Gothic City, GCPD 32nd Precinct: 2:42 A.M

The city never slept for the GCPD, crime was a fire that could never be extinguished. The brave men and women worked tirelessly to do their best at putting a stop to the madness. Even in the young hours of a new day, the 32nd precinct had cops and arrested criminals going in and out like Grand Central. Across the street, on a rooftop of a taller building stood a very anxious visitor. POW slipped his glass eye into his left socket, grunting from how uncomfortable it still was.

The Archer was on a crusade, trying to prove that the justice system is still a force to be reckoned with in this city. It was admirable, true, but POW was more than ready to prove him wrong. It wasn't like he was going to just attack without reason, he was a professional after all. Luckily for the kinetic crook, a job came his way that gave him the perfect excuse to make an example. The gig was easy enough, a hit on the sergeant running this joint. "Time to make an entrance..."

POW charged his gauntlets, vibrating intensely with kinetic devastation just begging to be unleashed. The professional leaped off the roof without hesitation, falling right towards the roof of the cop shop. His fingers laced together, raising his fists in the air to time this just right. The police heard the ear aching book before the impact even happened, that was the least of their worries.

POW came crashing through the roof like it was made of Styrofoam. The entire brick building shook as if an artillery strike had just rocked it, kinetic waves pulverising everyone on the top floor, bodies flying around maimed and blooded. POW didn't just breach the roof however, his kinetic crashing impact proceeded to devastate floor after floor. These impacts were child's play compared to when he hit the main floor however. With the built up momentum of dropping thirty stories, each floor only amplifying his kinetic output, when those gauntlets smashed down on the tile floor was like a bunker buster going off.

Lungs were collapsed, eyeballs ruptured, barrages of glass and debris ripped apart flesh and bone. There was a moment of silence after the blast, only death rattles and wounded moaning could be heard throughout the dust of the main floor. POW simply rose slowly, his suit already charging up again. A cop with a part of his desk lodged in his chest raised his weapon weakly at the attacker. "Bad move." POW pointed his fist at the man, sending a volley blast right for his head, exploding it to a gory mess.

"Sergeant Polowsky! You have about ten seconds to reveal yourself before I start blowing away more of your people." He calmly announced his intentions, scanning through the dust to see if he'll comply. With about three seconds left on the count, a battered Polowsky shambled out of his office, his hands raised weakly in the air. "Please, you can take me but don't hurt anyone else..." Polowsky pleaded to POW, who slowly walked up to him and looked him up and down. POW only scoffed, placing both of his hands on the sergeant's head. "Who said anything about taking you alive?" The gauntlets started to charge.

POW's hands started to vibrate violently upon the cop's temples, who instantly started to bleed from his eyes, ears and nose. It took five more seconds to totally reduce Polowsky's brains to jelly, letting him drop dead on the ground. "You should all be fortunate, those of you who are still breathing that is. My work here is done." POW stepped over the wounded and the dead, looking back up at the hole he created through all ten stories of the precinct. Without another word, he pointed his fists down and produced a blast that sent him soaring out the way he came in.


Eye for and eye

@ Gothic City, Hours after POW's battle with Kurt.

Sam Guthry had a long day, returning to his ghetto apartment was not much of a relief. How could he have stooped so low? A renown cybernetic scientist at Avalon to this, a life at a clinic doing menial work. His night was about to become just that much worse. Upon entering his apartment, he chucked his keys into the darkness, expecting to hit the kitchen table as usual. However, instead of a wooden clunk, they rattled in the grasp of another person.

"What in the hell?" Sam muttered worriedly and flicked on the lights. POW sat in his kitchen, already wearing a replacement mask from the one lost by Kurt Pendragon. Twirling the keys around in one hand, POW pointed his free fist towards the doctor's kneecaps. "What's up, doc?" The goon proceeded to blast Guthry's knees, enough to give them minor fractures. While Sam was busy screaming in agony, POW walked over to the sink and wetted his cloth once again. While damp, POW gently dabbed his empty left eye socket to reduce the bleeding, already staining his mask from how heavy it flowed.

"Now, as you can see I have been... Handicapped. Q did a scan on your work, impressive for a fired scientist." POW commended Sam's work, pulling up a chair to sit in, just glaring at the writhing man with a tad of joy. "What the F?CK do you want from me!?" Sam cried, still trying to wonder if he'll ever walk again. "Well for starters." POW nudged his fist against his victim's temple, the gauntlet vibrating intensely. "You're going to give me a glass eye, after patching me up of course. THEN, you're going to work on a replacement. If not? Everyone you loved, everyone you called a friend and everyone you call family will be turned into PASTE by my hand... Do. You. Understand?"

Sam was a pushover, wasn't going to argue after those threats at least. "O-Okay, I swear on it. Just please don't hurt my family!" POW slowly removed his fist from Guthry's head, powering down. "Good, now let's get you in a chair and patching me up. I have a very special appointment tonight, how much more I destroy you is dependent on how late I am..."

Willis Lincoln's Apartment, The Drags in Gothic hours after surgery.

Willis unlocked his door quietly, as to not waken her. He took a moment to gently rub the eye patch that now covered his left socket, still sore from the scrubbing Same gave him to avoid infection. In his pocket was the glass eye he could wear after a couple of days, the only solace in an eye patch for now is it would give Becky a good laugh.

The working class villain kicked himself for "working" when she he had custody of his daughter for only two days, but that diamond was only available for a short time. And there she laid on the couch, his daughter, his spawn, a part of his reasons to be the man he was. Even after losing an eye and defeated by a vigilante, Lincoln still smiled at the sight.

After turning the Looney Tunes off, the father picked his daughter up gently, failing to keep her asleep. Becky's tired eyes noticed the eye patch immediately, placing her small hand on it. Though Willis winced, he still chuckled at her curiosity. "Daddy, you look goofy with that on. What happened?" Becky questioned, rubbing her own eyes from the sandman.

Willis simply shrugged and pinched her nose, causing a giggle. "Didn't I tell you, pumpkin? I'm a pirate, I just keep a secret. Gotta wear this to see in the dark when I need to!" He swung Becky around towards her bed, speaking in his best black beard voice. "Now get to bed, or no pancakes with faces on them tomorrow morning."

After she was all tucked in, Lincoln's joy faded while lighting up a smoke and staring out the stained window. Plans raced through his head, all dreadful and cruel. Pow was going to not only break the Archer, but break his soul.


Pest's tour of the Vine! #1! Exclamation! (Current events)

Kurt Pendragon's abandoned H.Q.

Pest shot a suction cup arrow at a target, nailing the bullseye...Because he was standing a foot away from it. He turned to you, giving a carefree shrug. "I'm only a beginner alright! Gotta start somewhere." He set down the toy bow on a dusty counter, walking through the warehouse while keeping his gaze to you.

"I'm Higgins, or the Pest, or "Creed" 'Cause my creator forgot the password to my actual profile. You might know me as the lovable below low tier wannabe hero. My creator, Puzzler, once did these really sloppy podcasts where he would talk about what's what in the Vine. It's movers and it's jigglers or something like that." The nutty POPPER! stood in front of an old costume case, housing an all too familiar archer outfit.

"So I thought HEY! Why don't I pick up the slack and do it this way? Three's Company isn't on till seven...So I got some time. Let's start with Kurt! He's been up to a lot no doubt, protecting Gothic from the perils of ev- (Nope) Wha? (He hasn't..) Well why the hell not!?" Pest threw his arms up, eyes glued to the ceiling. (It's a little thing called "Real life" Something you wouldn't know about. Same reason Writers throw their characters into the void, where you just got out of.) "Oh...Okay well, Real life sounds laaaaame! I guess we're movin' on folks!"

(Do keep an eye out for anything Pyro creates, however. With any luck, our flattery and suck him back into the addictive black hole that is this forum.)


Shanty Town, Gothic City.

Pest POPPED! beside a shack among countless more, coughing from the smoke of burning debris. He was quick to pick up a bummish looking overcoat and stick to himself. He looked to you once more, glancing away here and there for any sight of trouble.

"Pretty creepy place huh? Well that would be Satar's fault. This guy is one devious customer! In the duo Events "Gothic's Hour" and "Gothic's Ultimatum" he proved that fact exactly, like, with fists. (It also goes to show the guy is a villain master from a writer's perspective) That too. Any moves this guy makes? It's guaranteed to be one for the books. Just don't expect it to be the most pretty of history lessons..." Pest put his green covered hand over his mouth, doing a perfect Satar impression. "It would be extremely painful.... For you..."

A few masked soldiers heard the impression, pointing at the obvious outsider. "Move a muscle, and you die now instead of later." The group started making their way to Pest, cocking their weapons and taking aim. He put his arms up in a panic, looking back to you. "End line being, you'll have the coolest hope draining experience with this guy!" *POP!*

Las Vegas, The Strip (PEST I WOULDN'T DO THAT-)

Pest POPPED right in the middle of a manic horde of Sinners, of course attempting to attack him instantly while shouting horrid profanities. "AAAAH! WAAAGH! WHAT THE SHIT NO! NO! NONONONONONONONOOO! THOUSAND TIMES NO WHY IS THIS EVEN HAPPENING WHAT THE HELL PUZZLER!?" *POP!*


Pest POPPED into a random lab, trying to catch his breath after...Well that. (Yeah, probably should have told you about that..) "YA THINK!? That's messed up Puzz, even for you." He dusted himself off, luckily POPPING! away before he could get injured or infected. "Whew...Anyway! You all seriously need to check out what's going on in Avalon." Pest did the robot, only to sniffle a bit. "IronPhantom is writing an arc with Zaubs that is just the most emotional one on the Vine at the moment!" He pulled out a box of tissues and blew his nose obnoxiously. (He's not kidding. Check out "Gothic's Ultimatum" and his following posts in Gothic to here...The guy seriously knows how to make someone feel for a character on here. I'd take some serious notes from him)

Pest chucked away the box of tissues, triggering a laser based alarm in the process, but paid no attention to it. "SPEAKING of Zaubs, we got a doozy from Abby and Ivana!" *POP!*


Pest POPPED! on a cliff, giving way to a perfect view of the mutant safe haven. The green warper himself wore an eye patch on his face, wearing a blond wig. "HOLY. SHIT. The fight these two pulled off in "Gates of Troy" was raw and brutal. It's one of those gems where you're on the edge of your seat 'cause you have ZERO idea what the outcome is going to be. Also, you get to see two babes tackle each other in the mud! (Dude...) What? It's true!"

(On top of that, the pure hatred in the dialogue is amazing. Another example where you can exactly feel what's going through each of the character's minds. And by extension, the writer's on a certain level. Check it out, plenty of notes for dramatic combat to be taken there.)


Paris, France.

Pest POPPED! atop the Eiffel Tower, laughing out loud and clapping. "And France hasn't been ruined again! Ya know it was going to be in here somewhere! Haha." Higgs leaned on the railing and pulled out his Stark smartphone, showing you CV's comment section. "This one was pretty light, but YOU can change that! Just drop me a PM about your current events, or ones that you think deserve my annoying opinion! If not, then I get it, ya just wanna be friends, you're not looking for a commitment right now. 'Till next time Viners, Pest out!"



Spawning in 3...2...1...

Breda, you've heard the name a few times before...My brother's son spawned an archer of yours, apparently. My sister's son made a daughter that cared about him after something that happened. See that's the thing about our family, the universe had other plans or something.

Me though? I'm Reggie, hated that crap though, so people just called me by my last name. And one day, I found out I come back nineteen years old any time I die...

Summer, sometime in the early fifties.

"Eh good game boys! That ought to show them that the Gothic Gallivants are choice 'round here!" The captain of their team shouted upon entering the locker room, tossing the winning football to his bud. It was their season game, and it was a crushing to be generous to the other team.

You'd think I was on this team! Dashing in and being all douchy, nah though. See it's a bit of a Breda thing...We are FREAKING LAZY. To avoid detention from bad grades, I settled for the school paper...Snarkily...

Breda leaned on the lockers, impressively staring at the captain of the Gallivants, Roger Bothran, some European ringer. Bothran of course noticed pretty quick that the schools "Garfield" (outdated, I know) was standing there with a notepad. "Breda.." He said in an accent Breda couldn't quite place, though his ape physique slamming the locker into a dent would say Russian.

The other players would of course turn their heads. It was Roger here, that beat the snot out of seven frat boys when they called him out on his heritage...You put together why he's feared. Breda flinched, only in the eyes though, having been flushed by Roger many times.

"Easy champ, keep those moves for the ladies...I mean..." Breda feeling cocky that day, sick of this tyrant's aggressive abuse to most, grabbed the ulrta bully's "R" marked jacket, bearing the same first initial, and slipped it on.

"...Unless ya' swing that wa-" Yup, that's right people. My origin story starts with a, insulting at the moment, gay joke towards a crazy Russian...Guess what happens next? Breda didn't even finish his "last" sentence as the Russian M.V.P drove his right set of knuckles into his lower jaw, then coursing into his head further and causing a spasm...

Yup...I got one punched by accident, somethin' Roger here would suffer in prison for sooooome time. I died before the ambulance arrived, lost too much air to my lazy bastard brain. Had my last thoughts, no light, kinda nice to die laying down...Something happened though. I mean...You wouldn't be here if nothin' happened, right?

It was around twenty five feet from, a bit over a minute after Breda died. His body faded into existence like a Polaroid developing. He had Roger's Letterman jacket still on him, jaw a little sore...What the hell happened? I came back, is what happened. At first I thought I was a ghost, till people noticed me...And I saw my own body being hauled off by the ambulance...

See guys, when I die, whether it be magic or mutation I don't freaking know...I "spawn" away from my body, nineteen years old again, my jaw aching, the clothes I was wearing when it happened and all that jazz. After dying a...Okay a few times, I got the picture. Hell even time I got married! Died during the mutant purge when I was forty eight, and now I'm back where I was, well twenty one now.

It's my pretty decent curse, but luckily I don't give enough of a shit...


Oni Country

So! This is literally one of the few RP's I finished with my best friend on this site, @_zombie_ who used to be my writing partner. Oni Country was a project that involved my heavily involved and infamous version of Puzzler (A.K.A Ivan Que/I.Q) that was what I consider one of my best works. I just found it in a dusty old Microsoft word file and chose to tweak it and convert it to be a more so story format.

In case you weren't around then. Ivan Que was based off of artist Sean Murphy's interpretation of John Constantine. And "Drake Blackhall" was a sonic screaming mutant best friend/bisexual interest. Tell me what you think. I might bring Ivan Que back


Ivan stood at the front of the old junk heap of a ship him and Drake were hitching a ride on heading for Japan. He enjoyed a cigarette as the ship was ripping through the ocean as quick is it could as he thought of why he was on a junk heap of a ship with Drake heading towards Japan. A series of gruesome deaths have occurred in a small village located in the Japanese countryside, the main reason why Ivan would even lift a finger to travel this far was because one of the people murdered was someone he knew. Satomi Akio, a woman that took care of Ivan in his final days of his terminal cancer, before he died, before he came back as a fallen angel. It was easy enough for Ivan to bring Drake along, a free trip to a beautiful land was hard to pass up for anybody, though Ivan didn't know if Drake caught the whole part about possible occult related people and demons being involved in the murders.

Drake adjusted his coat as he stood, then wrapped his scarf closer to his face. "W-why c-couldn't we leave when it wasn't fcking freezing out?" His speech was broken up at parts by the chattering of his teeth. Crossing his arms in front of him, he hugged himself in an ill-conceived attempt to gain more warmth. "And w-why are w-we going on a junker like t-this? Tickets for a decent boat aren't that-" He stopped, then turned off to the side and sneezed. "..expensive." He unfolded his arms, then reached into his bag and pulled out some tissue. After wiping his nose, he stuck the package back into the bag. "You're j-just lucky I've always wanted to g-go to Japan..Ivan seemed almost unaffected by the cold, either that or he just wasn't showing that he was freezing. He merely chuckled while taking a drag of his cigarette and looked over to Drake and his physical peril due to the cold. "Because Blackhall, ever heard of being subtle? I can't even begin to describe the laws I have broken in my line of work, sometimes I didn't even have a choice...Also the fact that I am still dead to the rest of the world! I mean if I waltzed into an airport with a passport of a dead man, they will be convinced I am a terrorist or some sh!t like that..". Ivan grumbled as he complained about the downfalls to coming back from the dead. "Just crack on for Christ's sake, your acting like you have the damned plague.."."

"My hair is purple. You really think subtlety is my forte?" He shot back, glaring over at him. "Not like you couldn't just.. forge a passport? They do it on Supernatural all the time. Though, admittedly, no one in their right mind would fall for someone calling themselves Jimmy Paige, but still!" Drake grabbed at the coat and pulled it tighter around him. "I never handle being sick well. And I'm from California. We're terrible at handling the cold."

"Well live in London your whole bloody life and you wouldn't mind a little drizzle and cold.." Ivan stuffed his hands in his trench coat. "I told you not to mention that damned T.V show anymore, a mockery of this world..I could do that, but like I said, I love myself some subtly..Besides, the harbor we are arriving at isn't exactly legal let alone safe..".

"Still a good show.." He mumbled under his breath, not mentioning the fact that he ran a Destiel blog on tumblr. "Wait.. you didn't mention this before. How not legal and how not safe? Because I don't wanna wind up getting kidnapped by the Yakuza on my first visit to Japan."

"Why not? I was? Wanted me to exorcise their big boss's wife..I did, then ended up shagging her too.." Ivan chuckled at the nostalgia before flicking the cigarette away. "The harbor has been run down for years, all because of an apparent curse that was put on the entire portion of that land..Powerful stuff. The village we are heading for it in the epicenter of that curse.." Ivan looked over with a grim expression.

"Call me crazy, but I don't like the prospect of being tortured." He sneezed twice in succession. "Oh boy. Always wanted to run into a cursed village and risk whatever it'd bring down upon me."

"If everything goes according to plan we should be jusssst fine!" Ivan punched him on the shoulder before looking at the sun set. "Sucks that nothing ever truly goes to plan..Anyway, I think we should both get some shut eye..".

Drake winced, stumbling back a little more than a normal person would. "Yeah.. got it." He chewed at his bottom lip. "Night.. I guess." He walked off to go find wherever it was that he was supposed to sleep.

"What the hell is that lad's damage?" Ivan mumbled to himself as he pulled out another cigarette and lit it. "I mean you would have to try that hard to be that uncomfortable all the time.." He stated out loud once again before walking into his cabin.


Ivan thrashed about in his bed, screaming loudly and knocking his things off the night table beside him in the midst of his night terror. Drake didn't sleep at all. In fact, he mostly sat up all night, sick as a dog. By the time morning came, the sickness had thankfully ebbed enough for him to get out of bed. It was still there, though. It took him a little while longer than usual to get dressed, but when he was, he stepped out onto the deck.

Ivan was already standing out on the deck, a cigarette in his mouth. Large bags were under his eyes from little to no sleep last night, this didn't stop him from noticing the dilemma they were about to face..."Hey Drake...I have some good news and bad news for you, which one do you want to hear first?".

"Good, preferably. But my gut says you're going to give me the bad first anyways." He was still unusually cold, and was thankful that he'd grabbed his coat before walking out.

"Ok...Well the good news is that we are a few more hours before we finally reach Japan, and our harbor.." Ivan said while walking across the deck, tying his luggage to a life preserver. Next he grabbed onto the railing firmly with his gloved hands.

Drake was actually surprised that he'd gotten the good news first. However, that just meant that he had to brace himself for the bad news. "Please tell me there's not a kraken in the water or something?".

"Hahaha!" Ivan laughed while shaking his head. "No! Not this time of season anyway..No we are about to be hit be a massive storm, I sensed it in my sleep, it is being caused by black magic..". Ivan pointed to the sky, literally turning black in an instant. Lighting came crashing down into the water and an unholy wind picked up, a practical flood came down from the sky and pelted the ship full force.

Drake lost his footing when the flood hit the side of the boat. "Alright, when that's about to happen, give me the bad news first!" He regained his balance. "How bad? Like.. shipwreck bad?"

A loud unsettling cracking noise could be heard echoing throughout the ship, Ivan ran over to the main hatch for the ship's hull and popped it open, seeing water flood into the ship at an alarming rate. Ivan slowly closed the hatch and looked back over to Drake. "... Possibly..."

"Should have stayed home." He mumbled to himself. "Please tell me this piece of junk has life boats.". "Well maybe we should check that o-" Ivan didn't get to finish his sentance on the account of a bolt of lightning coming down in between him and Drake, sending him a few feet in the other direction. His back hit the railing and he toppled over onto the lower half of the deck, knocking him out cold.

Drake was sent flying back towards a cargo container on the top deck. His head struck against it first, hitting an edge of it. Thankfully, it didn't knock him out. Though when he got up, his vision was about as blurry as it could get. "Ivan?" He called out, looking around. Ivan was gone, which meant that he had to stumble his way across the deck to where he'd last seen him. It was an effort, to say the least. Every few moments, his knees threatened to give out from under him. The blow to the head had done some damage to his coordination, if only temporarily. Eventually, he reached the railing and looked over. Below, he saw Ivan.. and he wasn't moving. "Sht." He muttered. After a moment of trying to prevent himself from panicking, he slipped over the edge of the deck, holding onto the railing with his hands. Thankfully, he was able to keep a grip long enough to make it down to Ivan. Bending down in front of him, he grabbed him by the face. "C'mon.. wake up.."

Ivan's eyes fluttered a few times before he gasped. "Dammit!" He yelled as he was quick to get to his feet. "Come on we need to find a life boat or somethi-...". Ivan's mouth dropped open as he saw a massive wave tower above the ship, at least ten stories high. "Drake..Find a life boat..Now.." The magus said calmly and shoved him away, he ran to the side of the ship where the wave was going to impact and held up his hands. "NAECO EHT FO ECROF ,UOY LEPER I!" He screamed, and just as he did, a light formed around the wave, holding it back as if a wall was in it's way. Ivan yelled at the top of his lungs as he could feel the wave's pressure in his very being. "DRAKE! FIND THE DAMN BOAT!"

"I'M TRYING!" He hollered back, sprinting off towards the side of the boat. Sure enough, he found the boats hanging off of the side. "Ivan, over here!" He shouted, looking around for something to cut the rope tethering the boats.

"HURRY!" Ivan screamed as he was still holding back the massive wave. "No, you have to come here! They're already inflated, they're just tied to the ship. And they're way too heavy for me to drag by myself." He found a fire ax in a red box on the wall. Sucking in a breath, he let out a sonic scream, shattering the glass. After that, he pulled out the ax. "We're just gonna have to run the risk of the wave hitting the ship!".

"..Bullocks..." Ivan muttered as he let his arms down and went into a full sprint towards the boats, the wave destroying the ship right behind him. Ivan wasn't fast enough however and was consumed by the massive wave, vanishing into the wreck. If Drake didn't move quickly, he too would be consumed.

"Sht." His eyes went wide with panic. Drake wanted to go back and grab Ivan if he could, but he didn't have much choice besides jumping into the life raft. At the last moment, he cut the ropes holding it up and was sent plummeting into the ocean. "Oh god, oh god, oh god.." He repeated over to himself, holding onto the sides of the life boat for dear life. When he hit the ocean, ice cold water hit him, soaking him from head to toe. He gasped, but was hit with another wave that sent the small life boat floating off at a fast speed.

Hours later, Drake sailed through a thick fog, the water becoming more shallow. Drake was huddled up in a corner of the boat. His hair had just barely begun to dry, but his clothes were still soaked. It was a miracle that hypothermia hadn't set in awhile ago. Though, really, the numbness of his skin could be it setting in right now. He had long since given up trying to look out for land, only taking note that the water was getting shallow. To make things worse, his cold was gradually returning to full strength. He'd been sneezing and breaking out into coughing fits for the better half of the past hour. It struck him that without Ivan, he really didn't have any way of getting back home. And if he wasn't back within three weeks, he'd get fired. Two months after that, he'd lose his apartment. It struck him as odd that these were the things going through his mind when he was sitting in a small life boat, potentially freezing to death.

A figure rushed through the fog, tapping through the water like a stone being skipped upon it. Drake blinked, looking out into the fog. When he saw the figure, he got an inkling of hope. "..Jesus? Is that you?". The sound of wet feet smacked onto the boat, next was the unsheathing of a katana and it being pressed up against Drake's neck. The figure was still guarded by the fog.

Even in his miserable, sickly state, he still had the emotional capacity to feel fear. He went to scream, but the katana was pressed too close to his throat for him to get one out. "If this is the Yakuza, I swear to God I'm just a graphic artist that got stranded in the ocean. I'm NOT smuggling drugs for the Triads!" That came out terrible, and if it WAS Yakuza, they probably didn't even understand English anyways. "So.. please just let me go?".

"Who is mad enough to enter these cursed lands?" A voice asked, clearly having Japanese be his first language, and English his second. The man stepped out of the fog, he was tall, muscular and was only wearing the pants of a samurai. His blade was still held neatly against Drake's neck as he stared at him with unwavering eyes.

"My friend. Ivan. He's this British guy.. blonde hair, smells like cigarettes with a hint of whiskey. Always has a trench coat on, kinda rude, nasty temper." He realized he was beginning to ramble, and got quiet. "..I kinda just followed along. Because I'm stupid. And have nothing better to do besides sit around in my bedroom and look at tumb-" He stopped himself again.

The young man raised his brow, coming from a village that forbade any technology or modernization, he was at a loss. "This, smoking man, I think he may be the one we have in our village..I could perhaps show you the way". "Yeah.. just, please take the sword off my throat. Kinda hurts." He winced, not fully realizing that he had a scream pent up in the back of his throat.

The man paused before spinning his blade and sliding back into it's sheath attached to his hip. He lent out his hand to him. The realization hit him after it happened. An ear-shattering sonic scream was let loose from his mouth, lasting for a good few seconds before he stopped it. "..oops."

The man screamed as he was sent off the boat and back into the fog, a loud splash could be hard shortly after. "Goddamnit." He muttered. Resigned to floating around, he curled up on the boat, attempting to gain warmth. It'd be a long time before he got to shore..


When Drake woke up, he wasn't moving anymore. In fact, he didn't hear the sound of the ocean all around him. Just behind him. Raising his head up, he saw that he was at the shore. Looking about, he made sure there was no one nearby before stepping out onto the beach. "Ivan.. I'm going to kill you."

Only moments after he stepped onto the beach, a horde of samurai charged out of the forest and unsheathed their blades. Once in a combat stance, they glared at Drake, even the man from earlier was there. "This is the one! The wailing demon!".

"Oh, goddamnit!" He yelled, turning around and taking off at a sprint. Sure, he could take out a few with the scream.. but that'd just piss off even more people. So he ran as fast as his bony legs would carry him, which was actually pretty fast, considering how underweight he was.

One of them got back on their horse that they had in the forest and tailed behind Drake, using a tight rope to throw around his neck to snag him. Drake felt himself get jerked backwards right before the rope circled around his neck. The breath was choked out of his lungs right before he felt himself hit the dirt.


Drake found himself bound by the wrists and being pulled behind the man on the horse. He could feel a Katana pressed up behind his back.

Drake had gotten silent awhile ago. Normally, he would have been trying to shout out excuses to get himself out of the situation. Not this time. He did, however, let a sentence slip. "This is all just one big mistake.". "Hush banshee..." Said one of the villagers. Finally they arrived past a wooden gate, and were in a bustling village. I didn't take long before some of the people gathered around to observe the stranger with purple hair. Some booed and some spat at Drake's feet. "Demon! Demon!" Yelled one of the elders, sitting in a chair and smoking a hookah. Finally they arrived in what looked like the center of the village. Atop a stone circle, bound by multiple strands of rope, was none other then Ivan Que. With a smirk, he puffed on a broken cigarette that was on it's last few drags. "Mate, please tell me you found my pack of cigarettes..".

Drake lowered his head in an effort to dodge any potential incoming projectiles. He'd been in this situation many times before. Except not bound and in grave danger. Instead, it was while running through the halls of his high school, attempting to dodge the projectiles his classmates had been throwing at him. He couldn't quite tell which he preferred more. When he saw Ivan bound up, his heart sank. He'd been hoping that Ivan was alive, and would bust in any moment to save him.. but this happened. "Please tell me you have a way out of this." He hissed back.

"Do you really think I was going to walk all the way to the village? I let them capture me so I could get in easily, just did a few tricks with my lighter and now they think im a demon..Im guessing you showed them your singing voice?" Ivan conversed with Drake subtly as Drake was getting bound beside him.

"On accident." He winced, squirming about before being harshly jabbed in the ribs with the bottom of a wooden pole. "You know.. bondage isn't nearly as much fun when there's men with swords threatening your life.". "Im used to it.." Ivan realized just how odd that sounded, then sighed. "In Russia, I had to go to a bondage club often so I could keep tabs on a torture demon..So yeah..".

"I usually do that for fun. Not.. nngh.." He struggled again, but got the message when he was jabbed again, harder this time. Drake was pretty sure he felt a rib or two crack. "..like this. How the hell are we getting out of here?". "Oh we could get out of these bindings easy, just a spell and we are undone! But I don't abuse magic like that..Observe..". Ivan waited for the village's elder to approach the two, a wise glare was shot at both of them, Ivan kept his smirk on his face. The elder did not take well to the magus's snarky expression, and gave a nod to the pole bearer to give him a smack over the head, Ivan only chuckled as his head jerked forward. "Nice to meet you too.." Said Ivan with his smirk still strong. "What is it you want with our people, demon?" Asked the elder, kneeling down to observe the two. "Well other then enjoy the lovely countryside...We are here to stop the real demon that attacks and maims your people.." Ivan raised a brow as he stated his purpose. The elder ran his fingers through his long beard and squinted, "This could be but a ruse, three demons conspiring to stab us when we have our backs turned..".

Ivan grinned cocking his head to the side. "Oh but I am a demon, and so is my friend here..But we are here to purge the evil that plagues your land, consider yourself grateful.." Ivan rolled with the demon charade, to instill fear in the villagers, all a part of his con.

"You'd think with how easily they caught me.. it'd be freakin' obvious that I'm not a demon." He mumbled under his breath. Unfortunately, the guard next to him caught that, and smacked him in the chest again. "Ow! Stop fcking doing that!" He shouted.

Ivan looked over and shushed him with a glare. "If you do not let us go..And let us stop this demon in peace and freely, we will ravage your village in seconds.." Ivan glared at the old man, which the elder only chuckled. "You do not frighten me demon, you and your accomplice are weak, us mortals easily catching both of you with ease...Execute them.." Said the elder to the two men that stood beside Ivan and Drake. As soon as they drew their katanas, Ivan grinned like a misfit. "...snomed su ekam ot lliw ym ot dneb ,thgil..." He whispered under his breath. Suddenly there was an increase of heat in the air, the area around both Ivan and Drake started to glow black and red. The two swordsmen grew wary of the event and backed off a bit. Within a second, there was a loud sonic boom, the light bending around Ivan and Drake to make them look like Japanese demons, red and blue skin, massive set of fangs and multiple arms as they roared furiously. The elder yelled as he stumbled back, the villagers cried in peril at the transformation and huddled to the floor in panic. After a few more moments of the hellish display, the returned back to normal.

Ivan grinned once more and gestured to his ropes. "Now...Untie me and my friend, and point us to our accommodation.." He said calmly. The elder nodded with wide eyes as their ropes were cut by the fear filled swordsmen. Ivan stood up and cracked his neck, dusting off his trench coat.

Drake got to his feet.. and almost immediately fell over. Bracing himself up against Ivan, he broke out into a fit of coughing, then recovered himself. "Sorry. I seem to have less patience as of late. Gets even worse after the third rib gets broken.". Ivan slung Drake's arm over his shoulder and helped him over to the house they were going to be using, the villagers wary of the two supposed demons. Once inside, he set him down on a bed mat.

"Now that we're alone.." Drake looked over at Ivan. "Are you out of your fcking mind?! You said it'd be dangerous, not get me nearly drowned, almost get my throat slit, tied up, dragged through the forest, tied up again, and smashed in the ribs four times with a goddamn pole!" He sat up to swing at Ivan, but felt pain shoot through his chest, forcing him back down onto the mat.

"For a second I thought you were going to try and snog me!" Ivan laughed out loud and looked around the house for a paint brush. "Shut up." He tried to relax, he really did. But everything hurt. It wasn't just the ribs, either. "What're you doing?". Ivan started painting sigils of all kinds all over the walls and floors. "If the demon is spectral, we need to make sure this house is warded".

"Why? I thought we were just going to find him, then leave?" His eyes followed the brushstrokes as Ivan painted them. "We need to purge this demon, you know that right? It's killing innocent people..Once I see one of the bodies, I can figure if this is a summoned demon, or an independent one. Maybe this is related to a cult.." Ivan explained while unbuttoning his shirt.

"That's what I meant. Sorry, the pain's kinda messing with my head. I'm guessing that either way, it's gonna be a btch to get rid of?". "It's strong, this village is packed with tons of wards and protection yet it has killed five people.." Ivan paints a sigil on his chest and buttons his shirt back up. He walked over to Drake and dabbed the paint brush. "Undo your shirt, and don't get any ideas mate..".

"Don't worry.. in no condition to do anything like that." He winced, then reached his arms up and un-did his shirt. The moment they were back down on the mat and unmoving, relief flooded back into him. Ivan started to paint the sigil. "After I find myself some bloody cigarettes..and maybe a decent shag, I will get some ingredients together to make some healing paste for your ribs mate..My aunt always said I should know at least some healing alchemy".

Drake tried to ignore the discomfort from having the sigil painted onto him. "It's not so much the ribs.. I've had that happen before.". "Oh so you don't want healing paste? Fine" Ivan chuckled. "Unless healing paste magically fixes muscular pain.. no. I think I'll live with a few broken ribs for now." He shut his eyes, sighing.

"It cures most physical pain you ponce.." Ivan finished the sigil and tossed the brush on the counter. "Might as well just relax for tonight, it's to late in the day to start pissin' off the villagers again.." Ivan mumbled while standing up. "Considering the sht you got us into.. you don't get to call me that." He breathed in, then out, experiencing intense pain from his broken ribs with each breath.

"Oh calm down Blackhall, your missing the thrill of it all!" Ivan sits down on the floor mat and double checks his coat for a stray cigarette. "I seem to have a problem with finding the thrill in anything. So it's not a surprise." He folded his arms behind his head, managing to get them into a position that wasn't excruciating.

Ivan sighed and shook his head. "Alright well now that we have some quality time together, why is it you come with me? On these adventures, even though you know the risks and I warn you every time?". "Wish I knew." Drake sighed. "Maybe I'm just masochistic. Or suicidal. Or I'm just bored and stupid.". Ivan only nodded while listening, looking out the window and into the village. "Why'd you ask me along? There's hundreds of people that are better suited to this life, and we don't exactly get along all that well.".

"Because I know the life you live is dull and boring, sure I could get a vampire or a merc or a shape shifter but that would just be boring for me! Having someone normal along makes it, I dunno feel more enjoyable" Ivan shrugged, getting him and cracking his shoulder. "Alright im going to browse around the village for some stuff, you get some rest alright?" Ivan said while walking towards the front sliding door.

"Got it." He laid his arms out by his sides, doing his best to remain still.


Later on in the middle of the night, a woman screaming loudly could be heard coming from one of the rooms in the house.

Drake sat up too quickly. His ribs had healed, but the muscles still ached. Getting to his feet, he walked off to go investigate the sound. The screaming originated behind a closed door at the end of the hallway.

Drake made it down the hall, then knocked on the door. "Everything alright in there?". The screaming stopped and there was a bit of giggling and whispering. "Yeah mate, just uh..Just fooling around in here don't worry.." There were a few more female giggles.

Drake rolled his eyes, then stalked off back to the room. He risked a near fall when his knee almost gave out, but recovered in time to slip into his room. The next morning, Ivan walked into the living space and set down a carton of cigarette packs, a large grin on his face. He managed to find a trader while he was looking through the village last night.

When Drake woke up, he was running a fever. He saw Ivan come in with a pack of cigarettes. "Well, you didn't waste any time last night.". "I have devised that if I go more then a day without a cigarette...I die.." He chuckled as he stuffed two packs inside his coat. "Wouldn't want that happening." Drake set his palms against the mat and pushed himself into a sitting position. "So.. what next?"

"Well the day is young, we are in one of the most beautiful countries on the planet...Lets go look at a dead body.." Ivan put on his classic black tie and adjusted it so it was a little loose. Next he packed his lighter and an extra pair of brown gloves, and subtly stuffed a photo of him and Amelia making silly faces in front of the record store in his breast pocket.

"Alright." With a bit of effort, he pulled himself up into a standing position. "Ready whenever you are". "Alright Blackhall, come along.." Ivan lit a cigarette and stepped outside, taking in a mix of fresh air and nicotine. "Ahhh..Japan..". Drake shot him a glare. He kept saying that, it annoyed him. "Yes.. if only we were visiting it under more pleasant circumstances".

Ivan looked about the village as the duo walked through it, Ivan glancing back at him. "The circumstances are fine with me". "I'd prefer circumstances where I'm not deathly ill and going to look at corpses." Drake saw the guard that had hitting him in the ribs with the pole. He faked like he was going to scream in his direction, and giggled profusely when the guard recoiled in fear.

The two arrived at the house where the most recent murder took place, outside it were some monks and priests waving incense sticks about and lighting candles while performing meditative humming. Ivan walked past the circle they had drawn around the house and let himself in. Drake almost stopped at the circle. Given the treatment the villagers had put him through thus far, he didn't feel inclined to respect them. He stepped inside after Ivan.

Ivan was already stranding over the blanket covered body, almost reluctant to lift the cloth, for he knew what body was under there. Drake himself wasn't too eager to lift the blanket. He couldn't quite place why, but he figured it had something to do with not wanting to upset his delicate stomach.

"...Oh bloody hell..." Ivan muttered before lifting the blanket quickly off the corpse. The body was a gory horrific display, organs everywhere, flesh bitten, scratched, ripped, peeled and nibbled at. Yet one of the most intact parts of the body was the face, the horrified face of Satomi Akio, Ivan's old friend. The magus himself just stood there, cigarette slowly burning away without him puffing at it, his eyes didn't blink for at least two minutes straight.

Drake covered his mouth with his hand. The stench alone almost had him on the brink of vomiting. Entrails splayed about didn't make it easy to hold it back. Eventually, he forced the bile back down his throat and looked over at Ivan. "What? What's wrong?". "..Hmm?" Ivan snapped out of the series of memories he had with her, all of those nights that were just for fun and meant nothing, all the times she tended to his wounds while he studied Japanese dark arts all those years ago. "Nothing, just not the prettiest site.." Ivan looked back down at his old friend with unwavering eyes.

"..Right." He knew that look. Ivan was lying through his teeth, but Drake knew better than to press it. "So.. how do we start with this?". Ivan pulled out a piece of chalk and started sketching a circle around the body. "Like this..". "Ah. Somehow I knew magic was gonna get involved." He breathed outwards, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Im a magus Drake..A magician, a sorcerer..What did you expect? A forensics team?" Ivan said with a raised eyebrow, still working on the circle. "That was sarcasm, genius" Drake hissed. "Sorry I was to busy not caring.." Ivan got rather serious and aggressive when he was dealing with ritual magic, it required maximum attention.

"Alright then.." He muttered, turning around and walking off to go look around the place. After ten minutes, the circle was complete, it was an elaborate combination of runes and smaller sigils and black magic. "Drake! Finished.." Ivan hollered at Drake to get back in the corpse room. Drake walked back in coughing into his arm. "What do you need me for?". Ivan pulled out a pocket knife and pointed at Drake. "I need a bit of your blood..".

"Wait, what? Why mine?" He stepped back a little, not overly fond of sharp objects being close to him. "Cause I need some of your blood for the circle and it needs some of mine too..We are about to perform black magic..And blood is almost always the currency mate..". "Oh. Was worried for a moment there that my blood was something special." He let out a sigh of relief, then held out his finger.

Ivan stabbed his finger quickly to insure it didn't hurt. Next he sliced his own hand open lightly across the palm, grabbing Drake's cut finger and pulling away. Squeezing his hand into a fist so that a stream of mixed blood poured down onto the edge of the circle. Drake winced when the knife pricked his finger. It was painfully evident by now that he didn't handle pain all that well. His eyes couldn't help but watch the blood as it poured onto the floor.

There were a few seconds of silence, as if it failed. Ivan took this time to light a fresh cigarette. Drake reached the still-bleeding finger up to his mouth and idly sucked on it. "Why's nothing happe-" Halfway through Drake asking his question, the corpse opened her eyes and gasped loudly. Drake jumped, then stumbled backwards, colliding into a wall. A porcelain flower case wobbled, then crashed to the floor. "What the hell?!".

Ivan simply chuckled and knelt down, brushing some clumps of hair away from her face. "Satomi..Love how are you feeling?" He asked with a smile on his face. Satomi panicked at first but was relieved when she saw Ivan. "Ivan, Ivan where am I? I can't feel anything..Anything.." She said as if she was a normal person, her eyes were unable to move due to the muscles around her face being torn to shreds. "You had an accident hun, your going to be fine you hear?" Ivan said as he placed his hand on her cheek and rubbed away some blood, causing him to smile slightly, this brought a smile to her mutilated face as well.

"Looks like the tables have turned you dastardly smoking man you.." She said with her eyes becoming soaked in tears. Ivan shook his head while smiling. "Aww love, no need for the waterworks, you'll be fine, honest.." He said with a nod, she smiled once again and attempted to nod with her broken neck. "Satomi I need you to try and remember the face you saw just before your accident ok?" Ivan asked while looking up at Drake, subtly pointing at his sketchbook.

Satomi took a second to think before speaking. "Long black hair at least more then ten feet long...Pale skin, almost like a doll..Arms like...Like a spider..Oh god it was terrifying Ivan...It was wearing a worn out night dress on...Like a little girl.." Satomi panicked a bit before Ivan shushed her with that smirk still on his face. "Thank you Satomi..Helpful as always my love..." Ivan picked up the other half of her body and hugged it. Satomi attempted to hug back, not even realizing that she had no arms to hug with. "I love you Ivan...I just wanted you to know ok? In case I dont make it.." She said with a lump in her throat.

"I know love, I know...". Ivan stood up and and stepped out of the circle, turning back with a look of despair on his face as he placed his shoe to swipe the circle, making a gap in it. This caused the corpse to set aflame silently along with the circle. Ivan didn't speak, he simply pulled out a cigarette and used the flame from the circle to light it.

Drake got quiet as well. The sight of the poor woman talking, apparently unaware of the fact that she was dead, was driven from his mind. After a few moments, Drake walked over and wrapped his arms around Ivan. "Don't get pissed off at me for this, alright? I just.. that's terrible".

Ivan didn't hold him back, he just stared at the flames through the wall of smoke that his cigarette created. "We have a description...Lets get back to our place and work from there..". "Sorry." He sighed, then broke it off. "I get.. overemotional sometimes. Following that, slightly affectionate. Blame my mother." Drake turned to walk out. "Let's go, then".

Ivan walked quickly through the village and made no fuss to get inside the house as soon as humanly possible, slamming the sliding door behind him. Drake flinched at the door slamming. "If you want.. I can just go for a walk, let you figure this out by yourself". "Do you enjoy my company, Drake? Just be honest" Ivan said as he leaned against the table, back facing Drake.

Drake was taken aback by the question. "Uh.. a tiny bit, I guess. You can be awfully rude, to be honest". "Oh, well good. Cause I forgot to tell you something" Ivan turned to face him, a scowl on his face. "If you start to care about me, as a friend or more then that? You will die, alright? Cause it has happened to everyone I have ever cared about, and it goes both ways. So just be careful cause you might be next.." Ivan glared before storming off to the back porch that overlooked a garden.

"Right." Drake got quiet, letting him leave. Turning around, he hopped himself up onto the table nearby.

Half an hour later, Ivan returns and removes his trench coat, draping it on a counter. "Drake do up a sketch of Satomi's description of the demon" He said while point at him and walking into the other room. "Already did." He held out the finished sketch. "I needed to distract myself, started drawing". "Good, pin it up on the wall.." Ivan said while snapping his fingers and pointing at the wall.

Drake nodded, searching about for a thumbtack or something. It took him awhile, but he found one and pinned the drawing up. "We got anything to go on?".

"We will in a second.." Ivan took a map of the area and pinned it up beside the sketch of the demon. Rolling up his sleeves he took a deep breath while clapping his hands together and rubbed them. "Go get a glass of water, splash it on my face after..". Ivan said quickly before pointing his open hands at both the sketch and the map. "EMOH SLLAC NOMED SIHT EREHW LAEVER OT LLIW YM SI TI" He yelled loudly. As soon as he did, his hand started to glow red, along with his eyes, hair flying upwards as if there was a massive gust of wind. Both the sketch and the map started to glow as well, in a matter of moments, there was a massive flash the engulfed the entire room. After the flash vanished slowly, Ivan was on the floor, out cold.

Drake went to get the water long before he finished the incantation. When he got back, Ivan was out cold on the floor. Bending down, he splashed it on his face. "You know, I'm starting to see a reoccurring pattern, here". "Oh im sorry, have you ever used magic before?" Ivan said as he hopped to his feet full of energy, pepped up and leftover magic energy. "There it is.." Ivan said as he pointed at the map, the sketch's thumb tack now pinned on a specific point on the map.

"Nope. Wouldn't mind trying sometime, though." He walked over to the map. "And that's.. kinda awesome". "One of the first I ever learned, after we survive this whole mess, I may teach you a few tricks..Maybe.." Ivan chuckled as he threw on his trench coat and grabbed a katana from the wall, slinging it on his back. "We are actually going to need to tool up for this thing..".

"Oh, boy.." He mumbled, neglecting to mention his complete lack of combat experience. "Uh.. what do I use?". "That lovely singing voice of yours and one of these.." Ivan tosses him a sheathed katana. "Oh and don't worry mate, I can't fight for shit either if that makes you feel better..".

"If you actually heard me sing, you wouldn't be making those snide little comments." He somehow managed to catch it. "It does, kind of". "Alright then, lets ride.." Ivan said with a grin as he placed a cigarette in between his lips. Drake suppressed something in between a snort and a giggle, then followed along after him.

It took four hours on horseback to ride through the valley that the village was located in, along the way was tons of amazing sights. They arrived at the cave just as the sun was setting. Drake climbed off of the horse when they got to the cave. He adjusted the katana on his back for the fifteenth time since they'd left, and it still felt awkward.

Ivan drew his blade and examined it. "God I hate swords, I am not a fan of getting up close and personal with anything that can rip my bloody head off..." Ivan mumbled as he lit a fresh cigarette and nodded at the cave. "..Right then..Lets hop to it.." He said with a sigh before walking through the entrance.

"I hate fighting in general." He followed in after him, awkwardly drawing his own blade. As the two got deeper into the cave, the more dark it became. Finally, they were in total darkness. "...thgil..." Ivan stated, instantly a orb of light floated above him by a few inches. "So all we know is that it is a spider demon.. Probably intelligent..".

"And prone to tearing up one's face and mutilating their corpses." He stated in a somewhat dismal tone of voice. "..And that.." Ivan gulped a bit. Finally they seemed to reach the center of the cave, hanging everywhere was massive strands of black hair, almost like a spider nest. I really hope it's quick." He looked about, and almost immediately he noticed something off in the distance. Upon focusing, he was alarmed to discover that it was a group of cocoons hanging from the ceiling. They appeared to be containing humans. "And I really hope I don't end up like that".

"Well if we are lucky...This thing will be corporeal, and wont need a hex to ki-" Ivan was cut off in the middle of his explanation by the demon dropping down from the ceiling, hanging from strands of black hair. The demon was right in Ivan's face, causing his jaw to drop wide open and freeze, slapping Drake to do the same. The demon resembled a scrawny woman with multiple bony long arms. Her skin looked like that of a cracked dolls, her face had no eyes but a massive mouth with fangs, long black hair covering most of it. Every time it moved, it creaked like old wood, neck cracking as it cocked its long neck sideways to stare at Ivan.

Out of sheer reflex, Drake screamed. And unlike any he'd ever belted out before, it was dual-layered in nature, being both sonic and ballistic. His breath was slammed out of his lungs as soon as soon as it was done with, but the demon was sent back pretty far. The demon sailed into the darkness, leaving Ivan and Drake to deal with the cocoons filled with human gore to drop around them, along with some loose rock from the ceiling. Ivan shook his head from falling down hard and snapped his gaze at Drake. "Are you f*cking mental!? If you scream then this cave will come down on us too!".

For once, he managed to keep his footing. "I freaked out! It just.. happened!" He shifted into a very poor combat stance, but was rudely interrupted when a strand of hair..web latched onto his leg and yanked him to the floor. "Shi-". "Drake!" Ivan yelled as he ran towards him, only for the demon to actually drop to it's hands and let out thee blood curdling scream of a woman, and swat at Ivan. The magus attempted a sloppy parry, only barely cutting off a few fingers, only to see them grow back. "DAMMIT!" He cursed as he was knocked away.

Drake felt the web wrapping around his feet. When he went to scream, webbing shot onto his mouth, sealing it shut before the scream could even begin. After a moment of despair, he got an idea. Raising his arm up, he slammed his fist down onto the ground. A deafening sonic boom thundered throughout the cave, sending the demon to the floor. Drake desperately looked around for something to pin it with. Looking up, he saw a spike-like rock formation hanging from the ceiling. The scream and his initial sonic boom had loosened it, but it would take more to knock it loose. Raising his hands up, he clapped, sending a direct wave of sound at the rock. It cut through with surprising precision, and he just barely had time to roll out of the way. The spike came flying downwards, driving itself through the demon's abdomen and pinning her.. it, to the ground.

Ivan groaned as he quickly got to his feet, walking up beside Drake and picking his cigarette up off the ground and sticking it in his mouth. "Good work Blackhall, pretty impressed.." Ivan said while patting him on the back. The demon stopped screaming and started...Laughing. This only made Ivan look over with a concerned brow. "What's so funny, you witch?" Asked Ivan with a tad of hatred. The demon hacked up some blood before actually speaking. "They told me if I killed your lady friend..You would come..." This was followed by more laughter. Ivan's expression went to wide eyes as he knelt down to it's demented face. "Who...Who told you to kill Satomi?" Ivan asked while grabbing it by it's hair. The demon slowly looked up at Ivan. "..The..Dark..Keepers...". Ivan knew it, he cursed while slamming it's head to the ground and standing back up. "They lured me here to try and kill me..And Satomi was just a means to an end... Conjured a storm to try and cut to the chase faster..".

After much effort, he ripped the webbing off of his mouth. "Ow.. fck." The webbing binding his feet followed a moment later. "It was either that or join one of those poor guys." He got to his feet, motioning to the cocooned corpses. "Alright, who're the Dark Keepers? The last one mentioned them, too". Ivan sighed and looked over to Drake. "They are bad news.. An ancient order that has been at odds with my family for centuries...".

"Awesome." He let out an exasperated sigh. "I think I want to go lie down now". "I need to deal with this slag first..." Ivan looked over at the demon. "It needs to be hexed..".

"Ah.. great." Drake leaned up against the wall, and almost immediately noticed the sharp pain in his arm. Looking over, he noticed that the bone was out at a slightly unnatural angle. "Even better". "Ahh Christ.." Ivan sighed as he looked at Drake's arm. "You really need to get some meat on your bones mate..". Ivan looked back over at the demon and placed his hand against it's head. "lleh fo nwaps ,morf emac uoy erehw ot kcab uoy hsinab I" He said almost calmly, within seconds the demon was consumed by a green flame and was gone.

"I'm perfectly fine." He retorted. "That thing just pulled on my arm really hard." He watched as the demon went up in flames. "Yeah but your like...A skeleton with a rubber glove pulled over it.." Ivan shook his head. "Eat!". "I'm fine!" He said, but louder this time. Turning around, he stalked off back towards the entrance of the cave.

Ivan rolled his eyes and followed Drake, only to look back and see a ghost of Satomi in the distance of the cave, beautiful and smiling, a nod of approval on her face.. Ivan simply gave a nod with a smirk and finally left the cave...


The man comes around

My name is Clint Cassidy, and only a week ago my gramps died...

Washington D.C

Whenever a soul needed purging, it seemed to be the nights were the darkest. Clint lit up a rolled cigarette with his silver lighter, glaring at this polished town house belonging to a sinner, a politician no less. His black clothes greatly outlined the white stone, the only white on him to match was the priest's collar on his neck that belonged to his grandfather.

In this small establishment was a supporter of the Clarice campaign, but that meant nothing to the Man, it was his sin that was a flame to the dark moth. As if timed perfectly, Clint flicked the now finished cigarette before walking up to the front door, eyeing down the two sets of hired muscle guarding it.

"I think you're lost padre, does this look like a soup kitchen?" One of the cocky young men spat out, barely able to contain himself all because of carrying a gun in his holster. Clint chuckled along with them, pressing his fingers against his furrowed brow before looking up at the duo once again...With fiery red eyes...

A few screams and fun shots later, both gentlemen were crashing through the glass door. Hardly even a corpse, just burnt, beaten flesh. Clint calmly stepped through the broken door, smoke clinging onto his clothes as if he was just on fire. After dusting off his jacket, the young man scoffed "Not your fault bud, didn't know who it was you were messing with..." Clint grinned before continuing on through the house, dragging his fingers across the polished wooden furniture.

Like a pig at lunch time, the sinner sat at his study table while taking a few hits of blow, distracted by his own addiction. Walking through the darkness however, was Clint Cassidy lighting up a fresh cigarette, the aggressive snap of the lighter shutting is what got his attention.

Baffled and angered, the sinner called out "Who the fu-" But Clint cut him off, raising a hand in the air. "Everyone who makes a practice of sinning also practices lawlessness...." His voice was calm, but chilling to the bone. This didn't stop the pampered man to draw a magnum from his desk, looking back up and pointing it at the preacher's direction.

What he would witness though was no longer the man in black that stood in that doorway, the man with a blood stained priest's collar, spilled by dark demons. No. Instead a hand made out of hell's rocks and as hot as it's burning lakes grabbed the magnum and crushed it like paper. That preacher man was now an eight foot tall fiery behemoth of hell stone, his voice was as intense as a lion's growl. "Sin is lawlessness...."

And with that, the one who punishes plowed his fist through the sinner's skull, destroying it. After staring at his work done, Clint reverted back to his normal self with a cloud of brimstone's smoke, grabbing the glass of scotch off the table and finishing it.

"...At least I know I'm a sinner, fcking pig..."

Start the Conversation

Creed: Hairy situation

Montana, one of Creed's many hideouts...

Creed sat at his dingy wooden desk in this decrepit cabin, a plate of nachos for him to chew on while researching some more potential hits. "Damn, you wouldn't think so many people would want actual birthday clowns to be killed, there's like fifteen!" The merc laughed of course to his own humor, but his breathing seemed to be a little heavy.

This wasn't the only thing that had been wrong all week. Aching bones, hair growth (odd due to the fact that the serum removed all his hair) and his entire body had been working against him. What could possibly be going wrong? Creed's body was a scarred display of perfection and healing...What was with the sickness?

"Ok..huff...Time for a bit of consultation..."

Doctor Zimmerman, the man responsible for the U-man serum transformation. If anyone knew what was wrong with the up and coming star mercenary? It would be him. The video chat window popped open, Creed flinching a bit when he saw his own reflection in the monitor. "What the hell is with my eye!?" He screamed, seeing it was slightly crimson red.

And there was Zimmerman, staring at Creed after putting his glasses back on. "This better be urgent Creed, you know communications between subjects and us are supposed to be almost nonexistent...Oh dear, what is wrong with your eye?" The doctor asked, leaning in at a frantic Creed. "Oh you know, someone probably farted on my pillow at night-I HAVE NO FCKING IDEA DOC! My whole fleshy bag of bones has been all over the place, cracking and shit...I think I'm getting smaller."

Doctor Z started typing, researching Creed's patient file as he explained the problems. Of course his face grew concerned when he saw what strand of serum was used on Creed to bring him back from the brink of death. After removing his glasses, he looked to the merc again through the monitor. "Creed, there might be a serious problem here..."

Creed's expression just turned enraged, grabbing the laptop monitor and leaning in, both eyes red. "What. Kind. Of. Problem...." Zimmerman continued "The serum we used was an experimental mimic of what was used on Nathan Breda, as we didn't want the same result all over again. See Nathan was injected with a pure dosage of the U-man serum, this as we all know scarred him and..Well drove him insane. What we did in your case is used another disused serum as a base. A formula that actually gave people the traits and characteristics of animals, but what made subjects survive the process was the healing factor weaved along with it."

Creed was barely there, leaning in his chair weakly while vision grew dim, but Doctor Z was busy explaining to even notice.

"So we did our best to splice the healing from this serum and combine it with a strand of the U-man formula. What is apparent now is that we took too much from the animal transformation serum instead of just the reconstructive strand. We need to pick you up right away and get you sorted out right away....Creed are you there? Creed?"

That was it, Creed fell face first into the laptop keyboard, shutting the call down between him and Dr. Z and eventually ended up on the floor convulsing violently.

Hours later....

Everything was a blur for Creed as his eyes opened up, ears ringing and body aching even more now. Why did he have a bag or something over his head? Was he kidnapped when he passed out? "Goddamn..Last time I eat nachos while dipping them into tequila..Whoa that's a scratchy voice." He remarked while rubbing his furry neck...Wait what? "Wait what? What that!?" There was the panic again, Creed rubbing his small feeling hands all over his seemingly furry body.

"I-I gotta get out of this bag! I swear to god if this is Jehovah's witnesses trying to baptize me again!" The merc frantically crawled out out of the bag to find out it wasn't a bag at all...It was his clothes that were now way too big for him, in fact the entire cabin was so much bigger, or was it that he got smaller.

In a panic, Creed ran over to the full length mirror to finally see what this was all about. The poor bastard was a four foot tall raccoon of some sort, his own horrified expression staring back at him. ".....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH......AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH...gasp...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" He couldn't stop screaming, almost to the point of passing out.

The next hour was pacing back and forth while spewing one liners about his situation, taking the occasional moment to look in the mirror and scream his furry head off again...This was seriously going to make his job that much harder.

The message....

(@scornxy @mistress_sangria @wesley_odepius)

The video booted up to all who received it, mostly the friends and repeating employers the merc had amassed over his starting month. Creed was sitting at his desk, staring at the camera with this new ridiculous face he had gained.

"....SO! You all know who this is, unless you have two "Creedisthebestandyoushouldfeelbadforthat"' on your Email contacts list. As HIlarious as a joke this would have made, this isn't that. Apparently, for some fcked up reason my healing factor came along with a bit of animal DNA, raccoon DNA. It's good to know the people that saved my ass went to the JURASSIC PARK OF DNA FCKERY!" Creed slammed his small fists onto the table, taking a small breath and looked at the camera once more.

"Anyhow, no I'm not out of the merc game. Hell I even still have my healing factor, I'll be needing it considering I'm about the size of a lollipop cult member. What I really wanted to get across? Is that if anyone of you so much as pokes a joke at...This? I'll poke fun about how stupid you all look when your chewing on your stomachs that I cut out like it was the final round on Iron Chef. Ok? Ok, Creed out."

The furry merc turned away from the laptop and hopped off his chair, checking his phone to see a hit offer had been texted to him. "So this is it now huh? Could have been worse I guess. Could have turned into a mute, a drug addict or something....Huh..." Creed popped his locker open to slip into a makeshift combat suit stitched and buckled up from his older uniforms, then grabbed the now excessively large automatic shotgun from it's rack. "No way in hell a switch up is gunna stop Creed from being the top gun, NO WAY!"


Creed: Hard restart

Everything was a daze, a painful daze. His body felt like it was being held together by nothing but the bandages here and there. Vision was gone with only ears to provide him with clues on what exactly was going on. Clattering of feet along with more than three people chattering, probably the same people frantically working on his body.

"He's losing alot of blood here, where the hell is the B positive I asked for? Thank you." "What the hell was this guy thinking, wasn't the assault called off? He just went in anyways?" "Ehh that's what I hear. Poor bastard tried to take on their head guy on his own, probably aiming for a promotion..Good job on that." "Heavy cutting on the head and face, somebody get me suction for that blood so I can see what we are dealing with here." "Blake coming in to see this?" "Apparently, ordered us to just have him patched up by the time he arrives."

M.H.A medical research division, undisclosed location.

Commander Blake stood calmly, watching the survivor on his medical bed through a tinted window. Agent Clay sat behind him, sharpening his favored knife. It only took a few more moments before a tall and slender man walked through the door to join Blake, his lab coat read "Stahl" on the name tag. "The serum is being created as we speak..Are you sure you want to do this sir? Do we really want to risk another Nathan Breda type incident?" The doctor looked to the survivor with a bit of pity, knowing what was in store for him.

"The process has been refined doctor. Breda rejected the serum mentally and physically only because he didn't have it in him. This man here? Well let's just say hatred goes a long way...I'll go talk to him personally, make sure the machine is up and running when I give the signal for him to be moved."

Blake entered the patient's room, grabbing the clipboard and looked it over. The patient weakly opened his eyes and looked to the commander. "Damn you got pretty banged up. Broken limbs, cut organs and flesh..Broken neck..This looks like quite some time you're going to be putting in for rehabilitation, that's if you ever move anything below the neck again."

The man eyes twitched a bit, chapped lips parting just the slightest bit. "So...Much...For walking....This off.." He chuckled softly only to cringe in pain as his chest was in so much pain. Blake even got a good chuckle from it, but pulled up a chair beside his bed and got serious once more.

"What if I told you that I can fix this? Have your body back into perfect shape- No, more than perfect shape in weeks. You would be faster and stronger all while these wounds seal up in no time. The only other thing I can promise you is that it would be unlike any pain you have ever experienced, it would make this incident look like a paper cut..."

The patient glared at Blake, trying his best to smile "Well...I'd be...Asking.....Why It hasn't...Happend..Yet..." Blake grinned as well. "One more...Thing though. These...Scars....From the...Incident....I want...The...To stay.." It was time for the Creed project to commence once again.

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A Jeff Leveret tale (Part two)

Ronin's rest, upper end's bathhouse.

This town had chewed Jeff up and spat him back out as a homeless bum, no future or chance of survival. That had all changed however, with the help of a peculiar mask now in his possession. "Keep the drinks coming if you wouldn't mind hon." He handed the woman a tip and then reclined back into the water, having his own private room. "Hmm..This cash from those goons isn't going last long, I'm going to need something a bit more permanent bud" He informed to the Rabbit mask, set up against a bath bucket staring right at him.

"But I don't want to wrong innocent people to get my way, right? I need to take down someone who is...Evil..." It hit Jeff right there, the crime boss who he owed money from. Only known as the greedy Goliath, a massive display of muscle who ruled a good portion of the streets this side of Ronin's rest. "I'm almost certain no one will miss that guy, what do you say Mr. Rabbit?" Jeff grinned and grabbed the mask, putting it on his face.

Just like before, his skin literally bubbled for a moment, it actually looked painful and accidentally fell all the way into the tub. Without emerging once again, the water in the tub started to drain, but not from a plug. No there was a dug hole in the bottom, the waitress arriving at the room just in time to see this and gasped. She gasped a final time when a wad of cash was thrown from the hole and landed in the bath bucket.

Greedy Goliath's estate

Guards all over the front fence, it was a tight operation. Security however doesn't usually account for a hole being dug on the other side of the fence, and a cartoon rabbit stepping out. "Swaaaaaaanky! GG sure knows how to spends other people's money." The Rabbit started to crawl the vine wall running up the house nonchalantly, right up towards the crime boss's office window.

Goliath himself was busy snorting a a few lines of cocaine, a larger bag beside it. The permanently angered growled instantly though when the window was popped open, a breeze blowing the lines off the table. ">Who dares? Who dares to climb on MY HOUSE?<" Goliath turned around to have Rabbit be right against his face, curling one of his whiskers and wearing a French cooks outfit. "No no no monsieur! You don't SNORT flour, how else will I make nothing short of a masterpiece hmm? I simply won't allow it! I won't!"

The rabbit slapped the man gently on the cheek and dashed over to the other side of the table, having the bag of cocaine in his hands before Goliath could turn around. "Tis a secret recipe from the mountains of a special place passed down from an honorary family here and a cliche monk there. I assure you it will be quite delicious!" Rabbit cracked a few eggs into a whisking bowl he had in his other hand, then poured the cocaine into the bowl as flour.

That seemed to be the final straw however, Goliath screamed at the top of his mighty lungs and lunged right through his own desk and at the comedic animation. But this rabbit was far too quick and sly, one elegant leap is what it took to avoid the large attack, landing over by the fireplace across the room. "Put it in for but a few minutes and voilà! Perfection." He took a bow and also his cook's hat off, looking up again just in time for the crime boss to be towering over him, his very fist shadowing the rabbit as it was sailing for his head.

"LOOK OUT, we got an impatient customer!" He said with a cool in his voice, holding the hat in front of him so the fist would simply go inside and was followed with a large metal snap and the yelling of Goliath. A beartrap was locked onto his fist as he pulled it back out of the hat, distracted by his own pain to see Rabbit pull the baked caked from the fire place. "And finally-!" Another angered strike downwards at him, actually crushing him flat, or so Goliath assumed.

He raised his good fist to only see the chef's clothes on the ground, for Rabbit was now standing on his shoulder with the cake. "A TASTE!" Rabbit shoved the entire cake in Goliath's mouth, making him choke instantly and fall to his knees to struggle swallowing the dessert. It wasn't over after he swallowed it though, for the cocaine in the cake, a whole bags worth sent him right into an overdose, convulsing on the ground. The trickster raised his animated brow and scratched his furry head. "Wow! I didn't know it was going to be THAT good!"...

It was a good few minutes before the guards came running through the office door, seeing a dead Goliath on the ground and Mr.Leveret sitting at the broken desk. "Gentlemen, sorry to say but your old boss passed this house onto me. And no, I'm not a crime boss..And no, you're not goons anymore. You'll each get paid in spades if you pack up and get the hell out of my estate and not complain, understand?" Jeff explained this to them while he stuffed the Rabbit's mask in his white coat, the men were to intimidated by him to try anything funny...Thinking it was him that took down their fearsome old boss.


The creed mask: A Ronin's Rest short story.

*Sploosh* The creed mask fell into the ocean in the middle of nowhere. Something so small would most likely never feel the clutches of another mortal's hands, it's former owner having tossed it right out of an airplane. Yet something so small, this mask, carried the weight of gods. So much so, it changed it's shape right there in the water to something much more visible in the water, so self preservative it was. A white rabbit's mask stood out much more than something easily mistakable for lumber....

Salvation, among the slimmest of odds. The rabbit mask picked up with a few hundred fish in the net of Japanese tug boat fishermen, retrieved before being tossed back into the water by one of the lowly workers. Goods supposedly such as this mask would make a good penny for a starving man on the markets in Ronin's rest. And that's exactly where the man took it, to no doubt be purchased by some poor fool, unaware of it's powers. Or perhaps it would be obtained by other means...

Enter Jeffry Leveret, a down on his own luck journalist who is now nothing but a homeless bum. Straight from Boston only to have this horrid place chew him up and spit him onto the streets instead of giving him the story of his career. A mind deprived of food can force a man to do many regrettable things, such as getting a loan from one of the more powerful gangs in this town...And not pay it off.

"Just gimme a few more days, PLEASE!" Jeff shouted hastily, almost as quickly as his sprinting from the loan sharks closing in on him. One thing about Ronin's rest that was useful was the crowded streets, providing Jeff with just enough hassle to hold up the muscle ridden goons. He needed a disguise, and fast. Luckily in his path was a man more well groomed than most people on the street, in his pocket was the Rabbit mask he had just purchased for his art collection.

"I'msorrybutIreallyneedthis!" Jeff shouted and ripped the man's white coat right off of him and slipped it on, turning sharply into a nearby alleyway. ">Move it!<" Shouted one of the goons, knocking the art collector flat on his face. The white coat seemed to provide enough of a difference from his ragged clothes underneath, for those men ran right passed him while his back was turned.

Time to dash again, if it wasn't for the carriage Jeff ran face first into and resulting in a startled noisy horse. The goons turned around and saw a struggling Jeff, seeing past the white coat. ">There! Finish him before this drags out any longer..<" Their pack leader signaled who was no doubt their sharpshooter to remove his revolver, aiming it at the now fleeing Jeff Leveret. *BLAM!* One bullet for one cheapskate, and did that bullet hit home. Striking Jeff right in the shoulder, it sent him flipping over the bridge he was fleeing over and went falling right through the dingy glass roof of an abandoned boathouse...

Blood, broken legs and broken arms. Glass dug deep in all sorts of different places on Jeff's flesh, now just a rasping mess on the dusty ground. But what stood out the most in his own pool of blood was that white Rabbit mask, glaring right at him...Almost calling out to him. If he could just struggle to put it on, something that felt like he needed to do...

Minutes past before the trio of criminals came crashing through the boathouse, pistols whipped out and looking for Mr. Leveret. "Ohhh you PUNKS! You SLIME! What did I tell ya about gun control!" A rabbit...A walking and talking animated rabbit dressed in Japanese officer's garb pointed his club at the lot of them, they were completely caught off guard. "I'll need to see your I.D's boys, then maybe I'll be as nice as to let you all off with a warnin'!" The Rabbit held out his gloved hand, which the men actually put their cash stuffed wallets in. "And hands on da walls! I don't any of ya punks doin anything bunny I mean FUNNY!"

The men once again complied, still caught up in total confusion. "Now Imma have to take these wallets into the station so we can have ya cataloged or something around that believable.." The animated maniac grabbed their guns while he was rambling on, also fumbling around on the ground for only a few seconds before standing back up. "Oh and" Rabbit's voice turned back into Jeff's "I'll make sure to tell your boss how you all basically suck at your job!" The rabbit dashed away in a puff of smoke, the officer's outfit dropping to the ground a few moments later.

">THAT MOTHER FU-!<" The men turned around and started to shuffle towards the door, only to trip and fall down on their faces. It seemed the Rabbit had tied all their shoelaces together...And then all of them tied to a literal bouquet of hand grenades...Blood and smoke spat out of the boathouse entrance, nothing but red mist where the men were decimated by shrapnel. And just down the docks was Jeffry walking away, flipping through the cash gained from the wallets...And the Rabbit mask in his back pocket. "Buddy..You and me can get a few things done on my list..."

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