Hunter and Hunted (Round Four)

[Ranarath]

OoC: Okay, Quark, let's see what you've got. ^^

BiC:

Tonight could’ve been a beautiful night. The moon shined fully with silver radiance overhead while the little stars twinkled with what power they could muster, almost looking like small sheep guarded by an all-protecting shepherd. However, no one that lived in the massive city below the night sky could see the glow above. An ever-pervasive cloud of normal water vapor, smog, pollution, and chemicals hung over the heads of the people. To the beings that grew up in the city, it was simply a natural aspect.

Which doesn’t change the fact that it still sucks, Sora thought glumly. After traveling around and actually getting see the sky, she kind of missed the moon and stars. But not quite as much as she missed the familiar sounds, sights, and scents of this city. She waved her hand in front of her nose, Well, I think I could do without the smell. People crowed the sidewalk on both sides of the street and the hunter simply had to shove her way through. Very few cars were actually driving through the street, most were parked on either side with their passengers doing God knows what; it's one of those things one would rather not think about. The people themselves were dressed in all different kinds of clothing, none of which said they were friendly. But Sora was definitely able to take care of herself if a situation with some stupid people ever arose. It was what she was after that might pose some problems.

A couple of werewolves from different packs had gotten into a scuffle that eventually escalated into a full-scale war. This was hardly new news, werewolf packs were always ripping each other’s heads off. No, it was the fact that they had killed quite a few humans in the crossfire that was the news. Normally, any type of daemon would be smart enough not to draw too much attention to a battle. So, either this battle was really getting out of hand or these werewolves were just plain stupid. The female was betting on the latter. Not that all werewolves were stupid of course. In fact, there was one who was pretty chivalrous...

A tap-tap on her shoulder made the half-breed jump out of her reminiscence. She turned, expecting some stupid guy would be trying to make a pass on her. Instead, she met with a rather hairy face with a pointed smile. “Sora. Haven’t seen you around here for quite a long time,” the man breathed with his yellow eyes boring down on her.

“Well, if it isn’t Thadeus,” she greeted. Despite his appearance of around late-30s, early-40s, she knew this particular werewolf was nearing 110 years of age. Wiry black hair covered his head and grew in a beard around his face. Slightly pointed yellow teeth lined his mouth along with yellow nails that grew too sharp and long to be of a normal human’s. Sora figured that this leader was so in-tuned with his lupine side that he could barely turn back into a man. “I’ve heard,” she continued, “That you’ve been having a little fight with another pack.”

He stood at least a foot over her, “Those idiots attacked one of my own so they’re only receiving a little payback. We don’t like it when outsiders get in the way, either.” The smile dropped slightly and an audible growl rose with the end of his last sentence.

“That’s nice. But I’ve also heard that some humans have been killed in your battles. That’s a no-no,” she shook her finger like he was a bag dog.

However, his yellowed smile only returned, “Like I said, we don’t like outsiders. Those humans had the nerve to hang around some of our favorite killing grounds. And don’t think you’ll get any special treatment if you interfere, Sora.”

The hunter placed her hands on her hips as a sign of impatience, “Then don’t go around killing humans. It bad enough if one is killed by accident.”

“Oh?” he asked, one of his hands tensing at the side, “And what about you? I don’t suppose it’ll make any difference if I kill a demon, right?” His right hand lashed forward, the nails on it had grown to at least half an inch long. Holy energy surged out of the hunter’s Omni and Sora, dodging to the side, brought Seraphim up and cut off the lycan’s fingers. He howled in rage and anybody that was near the two screamed and ran from either the sword with blood, the finger-less hand, the hand-less fingers, the man’s roar, or any combination of the four. Thadeus grabbed his right hand with the other as blood spouted out, “You damn half-breed. That’ll cost you your life!” He bayed again, but this wasn’t a sound of pain. It was a call of the hunt.

At that point, Sora decided it was a good idea to get the hell out of there. Great, not only did I piss off one of the biggest werewolves in this city, I completely blew my cover with that little attack. The colorful, Tacky, neon lights of various shops seemed to be even brighter, almost shining on her exclusively so she would have no chance of escaping. The hunter shoved through the throng of people, receiving several disgruntled comments and a few very rude ones. She darted down an alleyway, which was thankfully less crowed than the sidewalk, and stopped for an instant. Sora listened for any howls that indicted they new where she was, Which won't take them long to find out. Instead of howls, however, she heard the noise of footsteps coming down the alley. The hunter faced the werewolf with her sword readied... only to find that it wasn’t any werewolf.

[Quark]

Such abnormalities. This city was unlike anything he’d heard of in his entire existence. Upon a simple glance from a distance, he knew without a doubt that something special awaited him here. Whether it was its particularly tall structures, or the ominous fog that hung high above them, he had a feeling there was something different about this village; with his first step into its streets, he knew he was right.

The first thing he noticed was the extreme loudness of everything. Loud bursting sounds like broken horns would blare every now and then, having a rather un-musical tune to them. The sound of someone shouting echoed off in one direction, while someone laughing in the other. Just by the busy din of the place, Toofy understood just how large the city’s population could be.

The skeleton walked slowly down the middle of the road. It wasn’t long before some sort of carriage sped past his left; blaring its broken trumpet. Aside from its blatant rudeness, it caught the jester’s attention: It wasn’t being pulled by a horse, or any other animal for that matter, it was simply moving on its own. He watched the horseless carriage until another blared past him, booming its loud instrument just like the last. Everyone in this city must have been tone deaf; their musical horns weren’t that attractive.

Toofy made his way off the road and to the side where everyone else seemed to walk, he didn’t want to be slammed into by one of those carts… or maybe he did; it sure would make for an interesting experience. He brushed the thought aside as he continued his stroll, trying to keep his face hidden.

There was no way he was looking conspicuous, seeing how nearly everyone walking down the street this late at night was trying to hide their faces as well. Apart from the annoying noises, Toofy was wondering if he was starting to like this place merely from all the shady characters. Shady characters usually meant that said characters had something to hide, and in that case sometimes involved crime, which in turn might involve a killing of some sort. Then when there’s killing, there’s some skill; where there’s skill, there’s a challenge. This night, like any night, Toofy was up for a challenge.

As he stalked through the foreign civilization, he tried to pick out the creature with the most apparent power. It was hard, because he knew not to judge someone’s strength by their appearance, but it sure helped to make a quick decision. It didn’t take him long to form a decision. His target was dead ahead, an older man, though not quite as old as himself. On his head was a thicket of wiry black hair, while in his mouth raged a set of strange pointed teeth that he could spot even from here. Good, a freak, always fun to fight.

His target was talking to someone, a young lady. Oh poor thing, she looked like she might be in some trouble. He followed her hair with his eyes down to her romp, which he didn’t feel ashamed to linger on for a while before dragging his vision back to the taller freak before her. He could always jump up there to save her, but of course… that would be against Toofy’s ways. He could disguise the rescue as his attempt to kill the other guy; that would still work.

Before his plan was completely formed, a roar of agony derailed his train of thought. The freak was screaming; hand, or lack thereof, pulsing blood across the ground. Toofy suddenly discarded this man as his target, and instead followed the girl’s path as she ran from the scene. He caught a glimpse of her red-stained sword before she disappeared around the corner. He wasted no time, she was probably the challenge he was looking for.

”So many women these days with such violent potential.” Toofy thought to himself, his teeth clacking in anticipation as he ran.

The girl was fast, but he didn’t have much trouble trying to keep up with her. His attention was focused on his target, completely ignoring the strange technology that lit up the city. When the girl would finally stop, he’d find a way to start a game with her. He doubted the game would end in death, but he could always go kill someone later to satisfy his lust. For now, a friendly spar would be in order… unless this little woman was a cheater.

Without slowing, he caught sight of the lady shoving through a rather large cluster of people; Toofy following at the same speed. He chose a different path through the mob to avoid suspicion, but it didn’t stop them from noticing his complete lack of flesh. Annoying multitudes… he’d have to kill them later.

Despite the setback, Toofy was able to follow the girl’s course as soon as he was through the worst of the horde. She ran down an alleyway, dead end no doubt. This was it, game time. He rounded the corner and stopped. No, it wasn’t a dead end, but the girl had stopped at least and was now facing him. Did she know he was following her? It didn’t matter; the point was that he had her attention now.

“Good evening miss, are you lost?” Toofy began with his usual kind-person act. He briefly took note of her different eye colors; then continued. “You should be careful, some pretty weird freaks like to poke their vile heads out when it’s night…” then he added with a chuckle, “if you know what I mean. I myself can get a little freaky at times.” He let this sink in. If she didn’t get the hint, he made it more apparent as he removed his cockscomb, flicking its slithering whip from its shell. “Want to play a game, miss?”

[Ranarath]

She had seen things stranger than a walking, talking skeleton. Though, not enough for her to not be surprised by the sight before her. Well, at least he admits he’s a freak, Sora stated. That’s the first step to fixing a personal problem. Though, the half-breed looked down the bare skeleton and then up, it might take a little longer for his problem to sort itself out.

The polished bones replaced the hat atop his head, “Well, miss, what do you say?” His amused tone was enhanced by the ever present skeletal grin that all skulls wore even if they could say no more.

The hunter half-turned from the jester, “Sorry, but I have bigger fish to fry.” As if to punctuate her meaning, a howl went up somewhere south of where she was hiding. “Anyway, my name’s Sora, not miss.”

The un-living made a bow, his bones creaking slightly with the movement, “A pleasure to meet you, Sora. You may call me Toofy.” He straightened up and held up his mock scepter, a face with sharp teeth grinning manically at her, “However, I must apologize for not being clear earlier. I’m not giving you the option of refusing my game.” The jester gave the staff a little twirl and a blade erupted from the evil face. He didn’t give Sora any time to ponder the fact that he has a weapon but instead rushed her position with unexpected speed. His blade clashed with Seraphim’s steel. While his attack was surprising, he barely pushed against the half-breed’s sword. Giving a little added strength, she found that she could overpower the strange skeleton.

“Having fun yet?” the jester asked in a pleasant tone that completely betrayed his appearance. Then he decided to turn his head a full 360 degrees on his neck. Sora blinked with her mouth open, her attention temporarily distracted from the interlocking swords. The skeleton then dropped to the ground, both legs sticking straight out in what could’ve been a very painful version of the splits. He took a swipe at her legs with his blade but the hunter had managed to jump back and out of reach.

What the hell is up with this guy? she asked, not exactly knowing what to do in this situation. Normally, skeletons were just minions of whoever had brought them to life. She had never faced one with a will of its own. The only thing she could think of having fought that would compare to this Toofy was a vampire. And that comparison wasn’t even close. Not to mention that she didn’t have time to deal with his crazy... person. Having a pack of werewolves pissed at you was not something she wanted to stick around for. “Sorry, but I’m done with your game,” the half-breed told him. Seraphim disappeared back into her crystal and turned to get the heck out of Dodge.

However, something flew past her and made a nice, neat cut in her arm right above her gauntlet. It wasn’t anything serious but that didn’t stop blood from running out of it. Sora immediately faced the skeleton to see him holding several cards in his hand, all of them facing back against her. “Pick a card, any card,” the jester declared that well-known phrase. While she hadn't been excited by the prospect of another battle, the bones' little attack irked her. Actually, she was a more than irked but figured it would be better to hid that little detail. Deciding that speed would probably be her best bet in this insane battle, a blue cloud of magic spread from the Omni and formed into the water scimitar, Pure. She held up her sword in a defensive position, hopefully ready for what Toofy could throw, literally, at her. The skeleton simply cackled with amusement.