A Grim Evening


Caitlin.jpg Sebastian.jpgOwain.jpgMiruan.jpgAdam.jpgKen.jpg

Scene Title A Grim Evening
Synopsis An evening stroll in Central Park takes a turn for the worse when an enormous dog attacks.


Description of location, if any.

The Resevior in Central Park is typically an area filled with joggers, dog walkers, and in general those who want to take advantage of the opportunity to enjoy a trip through wooded areas without having to leave the city. Of course, as the evening passes on, the Resevior becomes home to some of the less savory elements of society, and far less enjoyable of a walk. However, there have been increasing reports of a disappearances along the path - and most recently, there have been whispers of animal attacks in the area.

This evening the path around the Reseviour is particularly devoid of people, perhaps due to the oppressive heat, and the fact that the body of water at the center seems to be a vile cespit of humidity at the moment. The heat of the day seems to be leaving this area last, and people are avoiding it for various reasons as the sun begins to sink below the treeline of Central Park.

Not the typical jogger or nature wanderer, Sebastian was just kinda moving on in general. Pathways led places, and he simply followed them this day and he was starting to wish he had thought about creating a personal air conditioning unit. Or maybe a way to cause a snow storm. He'd settle for a floating fan anyway, and he went on towards where the path took him. When he had the reservoir in sight, he frowned as the humidity started to grow and he glared at it as sweat came further.

Caitlin dislikes the heat, and finds the city to be an oppressive prison of enormous, unnatural structures. Her curly mane of red hair disagrees with the vile humidity this area seems to attract, and is displaying its disagreement by struggling to escape the braid and hairclip she tried to contain it in this morning. She wears a cream colored wrap dress made of a lightweight material, with a pair of pale brown sandals. Despite the oppresive heat, she still carries the heavy wooden case slung over her back, slowly wandering through the path of the Resevior, refusing to let the vile weather or threat of mugging ruin her only chance of enjoying nature in some form in this city.

For Science! At least, that's what Adam keeps telling himself as he moves through the park during the swiftly darkening twilight of Central Park. Thankfully, his vision is unimpeded, even in this dim light. However, unlike a normal jaunt through the park, Adam is moving quietly through the woods themselves, attempting to spot the cause of the unusual goings-on that had been reported. Field research, they said. A walk in the park, they said. He takes a moment then to rest on his haunches behind a tree, eyeing a spot on the path and taking a small break, the heavy brown leather glove on his right hand creaking slightly as he balls it up into a fist and relaxes it, easing some of his tension. He manages a smirk as he realizes that if someone were to come upon him now, -he- would be the suspicious-looking one.

Owain, lest one forget, is from an realm of steamy islands. Perhaps because of this Samoan friendly weather, and partly to escape the heat and moisture trap his apartment has become, Owain walks one of the less beaten paths of the reservoir, shuffling one foot in front of the other even as his…..would one call them an entourage? seem to demonstrate an uncharacteristic cheeriness and vitality. Maybe actual weather that might condone Hawaiian shirts improves their mood, if not their obedience. The other reason of course, is that he seems drawn against his will to uncharacteristic levels of danger. Of course he would pick a place to walk where rumors of bad joojoo have begun to crop up. Its why he actually asked the Samoans NICELY to come with him instead of jerking his finger outward like he usually has taken to doing.

Heeeeeeeat. Sigh. Miruan has decided to take a walk through here, especially after whispers of attacks. Are those ducks back? They better not be. Regardless, she has a wide brimmed hat on and a snow cone in hand. It's apparent today was a work at the plant nursery day, as she walks by people. She smiles at a puppy in passing and takes a deep breath. Phew. She is meandering here and there, her path likely towards home or at least a ride of some sort home. Her first targ- err, victim, is Adam! She smiles and waves to him. And there's a Hawaiian shirt modeling group- no wait, that's just Owain and friends. Grin. She seems amused and waves over that way, too. "Wow, I look like a spaz waving like this," Ponder. Then a shrug.

Seeing various individuals here and there, Sebastian raised brow as hand rose in greeting to the others, leather creaking unhappily from the sweat and heat as he brushed a hand across his brow. Glancing at his watch, he hrmed then shrugged, deciding to putter close to the friends than to wait for their arrival. "How goes it everyone? Enjoying the… well I'm going to go with Swelter as my word for this. I'd invent a word otherwise, but well meteorology isn't my speciality." He sighed at that and looked to Mir's snow cone, almost whimpering at the thought of lovely frozen coldness then shook his head. "At least one of us was smart in our travels. Snow cones sound like a gift from Heaven right now."

Noticing fellow wanderers along the path, including a few that she recognizes from the pub, Caitlin wanders slowly towards the gathering group, her steps seeming to be slowed by the oppresive heat. Still, despite the miserable heat, the young woman offers a pleasant smile and waves to those she thinks she recognizes, still smiling to those she doesn't quite know. "Aye, I believe swelter is an appropriate word, indeed. Miserable is another one I've become quite fond'a usin' ta describe it," Caitlin says, her accented voice weary from the heat. She nods towards Miruan, smiling, "And tha' is likely the smartest thing I've seen ta'day. The snowcone and tha hat. Smart girl," although her eyes look over Sebastian, a ginger eyebrow raising skeptically, "Although you, lad, are completely mad. A leather coat? In this heat? Ye're insane."

The Samoans wave at Miruan, seemingly the only person who can get the heavy hitters to actually smile and wave like happy schoolboys. Maybe its because she is attractive, or maybe they REALLY do it to rub into their boss that he is not a God. Unlike in Ghostbusters, Owain will not die…he will just get mocked by his followers. He waves toward Miruan and Sebastian, coming unbidden to join them. Suspiciously uncharacteristic, but one shall let it slide, he hopes. "Its tolerable. No worse than Samoa or Fiji in this time of year." He says, stretching a bit. The snowcone and the hat? Definitely receive a clandestine thumbs up from the Kiwi.

The Resevior in Central Park is typically an area filled with joggers, dog walkers, and in general those who want to take advantage of the opportunity to enjoy a trip through wooded areas without having to leave the city. Of course, as the evening passes on, the Resevior becomes home to some of the less savory elements of society, and far less enjoyable of a walk. However, there have been increasing reports of a disappearances along the path - and most recently, there have been whispers of animal attacks in the area.

This evening the path around the Reseviour is particularly devoid of people, perhaps due to the oppressive heat, and the fact that the body of water at the center seems to be a vile cespit of humidity at the moment. The heat of the day seems to be leaving this area last, and people are avoiding it for various reasons as the sun begins to sink below the treeline of Central Park.'

Heat was never one of Ken's favortie times of the weather. But it was a time where he could work out on his own. Some of his more… destructive techniques are better off unnoticed.

The movement at the edge of Adam's vision gets his attention and he turns toward Miruan, seeing her hand waving out to him. He can't help but scowl. He was hiding! Oh well… After a moment he just crooks a grin and stands up, moving over to where she is moving down the path and apparently gathering a party. This may not be so good for managing to snoop out his target, but there's nothing to be done about it now. He returns the wave with his gloved hand before snapping each side of his jacket, as if he could just shake the heat from the army surplus standard issue. Seeing Owain and the rest of his Polynesian crew, he gives the man a quick nod of greeting as well.

Ken's desire was to get out, partly because the air conditioning in his building was broken. And he got cooler with exercize, due to all the sweat. So he brings his pack back with water bottles, and has his Red Tongue on his wrist as always. He left his jacket in the pack, and thus is only wearing a white wifebeater on top, with his typical jeans and sneakers.

But as it turns out, he was not the only one out. Should have figured. There was Miruan and Owain and… he wasn't quite sure if he knew the others. But a simple wave, and he as onward towards them. 'So much for practice,' he first thought.

Then again, such meetings typically meant… actually sparring.

Miruan blinks and looks to her snowcone. "I'd offer some but I already licked it…" Whoops. "I'm okay, how about you?" SHe smiles faintly. "And it's … definitely something. Not usual," She admits. Miruan smiles back to Catlin. "Thanks. It's kind of you both to say that. I tend to cook more than tan," She notes quietly. Miruan is friendly, but still somewhat introverted. Hard to shake off a shell. Miruan hasn't a clue as to why the Samoans wave back to her. But who knows? She just rolls with it regardless and watches the squiddly one draw closer. She smiles faintly. She seems quietly happier as her brother walks over, too. "Wow. I wasn't expecting to see everyone," She remarks. She pauses as Ken waves. Looking a little overwhelmed for a moment, she waves back. "Well. Hello there," Another faint smile. "How are you?" That's left vague for now as to who she asks.

The bushes to the side of the resevior rustle in the wind. The trees groaning and creaking with movement, dry branches snapping like jaws in the air.

Wait, the wind? What wind? It's 100 degrees in NYC, and the welcome breeze has been decidedly absent from the metropolis this evening. It is almost certainly not the wind making those noises.

The noise stops for a moment, and the stillness in the air is truly apparent in that brief pause. The sound of a vicious snarl rips through the stagnant air, and the sounds of snapping branches and the violent thud of heavy footfalls in the woods near where Adam had been lurking previously. And the sound is getting closer and closer to the assembled group.

The creature that tears out of the forest is a beast of nightmares, and it takes a moment to process what it could possibly be. Easily a full two feet taller than the tallest onlooker at the shoulder, the great black beast looms with sleak black fur that seems to absorb the fading sunlight like velvet. Glistening ropes of drool dangle from the snarling jaws, and the creatures eyes glow a muted red, like failing embers in a fire. From snout to long thin tail, the beast is easily ten feet long, and great muscles ripple beneath the sleak coat.

At first, it is easy to mistake it for a large, angry bear, but after a moment, it is quite obvious that the snarling beast before you is in fact an enormous great hound.

The hound growls and crouches to the ground, head slowly taking in the scene before fixating on the gathered group, the ember-like eyes staring at the assembled. And then the beast lest forth a long, keening wail, arching its back and sending its head to the sky, the howl near deafening and earth shaking. After what seems like an eternity, it abruptly stops howling, and springs into a lunge aimed at the center of the group.

To say the crowd in the heat was unexpected would be a bit of an understatement, Sebastian just raised a brow and smiled, taking in the whole of it as he nodded. "Oh it is nice to see everyone again. I do hope the weather improves." As he spoke, the sudden breeze was welcomed, then the sudden presence of snarly mc drool bucket led to a widening of his eyes. "Shit! Everybody move!" Bravery? Yeah not quite so much, thankfully his brains were pretty damn quick and he hurled himself out of the way of the barreling puppy beasty.

Reaching under the leather coat, Sebastian pulled out his ray gun and flipped the safety mechanism on it, whirring dynamos starting to kick in as it started to spark and let out the smell of ozone, bracing the warming up weapon over the branch taking aim as he squinted shut an eye and focused on the drool beast.

"Of course…" Ken cursed under his breath. Why should he think that a gathering of Scions was ever going to be peaceful? Ken reacted quickly, with a small prayer. Out comes Red Tongue in all its glory, shaped in its typical form of a tachi.

Not waiting for others to react, or if any others are actually shocked at his display, Ken "leaps" into action, literally. He jumps torwards the great beast with his sword gripped in front of him. He stops just in front of the group, in the path of the big dog, sword directed at it as it comes charging. Ken then thrusts himself as the beast gets closer, wanting to make the first strike. As the beast gets in range, Ken spin jumps, lashing out with his Red Tongue.

It's hard not to smile. There's a lot of nice folks out this evening. Miruan keeps her faint smile. But that soon fades. She looks relieved by the breeze and then - "Oh." Pause. "Well, it's not ducks…" That's a step up. But she always hated that stupid dog that laughed at you when you missed in that one game. But no one is laughing. Not even that dog. Bother. She sighs, sets her snow cone in a safe place (Yay cups) and slips her bracelet off her wrist. She blinks at Ken's leap and steps back. That black bracelet is in a moment, a formidable looking Remmington. It's a rather large gun, even if Mir lacks anything to compensate for. Lift the gun and take aim. Bad doggie.

Great balls of angry canine, Batman! Owain manages to duck and roll just out of the way of rampaging Baskerville puppy. His eyes narrow thoughtfully as his left hand frees the pen knife from his jacket pocket, the blade throwing off its chrysalis to lengthen the span of the shaft, the blade molding into something longer, sharper….and then there is the high pitched sawing of the Jaw, hungry for Titanspawn flesh. Raising up from the crouch, Owain spins back inward toward the creature, bringing the chainsaw spear down to sever a cut of flesh from the rampaging creature. Ideally, it will sink in and just keep cutting until it either moves or realizes its being chewed on by something solely designed to serve messy cuts of Titanspawn flesh.

Meanwhile, the Samoans do what all men do. They tear off their shirts and beat their chests, drawing mighty war clubs from the bowling bags they seem to have at the time inexplicably brought with them. The Kairakau form a perimeter around the conflict, relying both on their impressive size and imposing demeaner (to say nothing of the fact the conflict became increasingly in favor of the Scions, at least numerically) to hem the beast. Maybe they will get lucky, and the beast will only try to eat their Master! One can hear the deep belly laughs as they go about their Haka, and its….well, its a touch in the disturbing side, honestly.

Caitlin is caught completely off guard by the arrival of the great hound from the woods, her icy blue eyes going wide in shock as she dives out of the way, into a shoulder roll. She removes the wooden case from her back as she lands in a crouch, setting the case to the ground and spinning it around, before flicking open a hidden set of latches. In one smooth motion, the young Irishwoman lifts twin axes from their resting place within the case. Gently closing the case with the butts of the weapons, Caitlin rises to her feet, carefully moving the case to the edge of the path where it would be safe.

"Oye, ya great beast. Ya be a pale shade o' tha Cu Sith. Wha', the Scotts toss yer mangey bum off tha 'ighlands?" Caitlin smirks, spinning her twin axes about in her hands, before slowly advancing towards the dog, trying to make herself more of a target than the others. She drops into a deffensive stance, snarling at the beast as she brings her axes up to be ready to strike.

The great hound snarls as Ken's sword bites into its chest, producing a small trickle of red ichor as the beast finally lands behind Ken, in the midst of the others. As the creature lands, the ground shudders from the impact, and the beast turns to snarl at those around it, head wipping about as though assessing the threat from each person in turn, although its attention is drawn by Owain as his spear burries into its side, rending flesh and bringing forth a gush of hot red blood.

With a pained howl, the hound turns towards Owain, ignoring the rest of the Scions for the time being, her attentions focuseed on the young Samoan with the spear, now dripping with its blood. The beastly dog lunges towards Owain, great jaws open wide and dribbling with slaver as it snaps at him.

When one attempts to carve the Christmas turkey, one does not expect the turkey to attempt to bite one back. As the creature moves to attack him, he does not make a dynamic attempt at dodging. While spry, it obviously looks like the abomination has the advantage in speed and momentum, so instead Owain takes a few step back, performing another slight spin as he thumps the things jaw with the bottom of his spear. Ideally it will divert it from mauling him, or at the very least give him the chance to avoid being summarily devoured out of turn.

It's just a little rustle. Leaves scraping against one another, like a painter's brush on a canvas. Adam takes this all in, assigning the sounds to a simple breeze. Wait… there -is- no breeze. His brow furrows slightly and head snaps to turn toward the sound a split second before the huge beast charges out from the brush and toward the clearing where the rest of them stand. Animal attacks, yes. Disappearances, yes. This is definitely the culprit. However, years of training have his mouth moving just a bit faster than his legs, as he begins shouting orders as he begins to move toward a tree to get out of this thing's line of sight. "Find Cover! Owain and Samoans left, Miruan right! Take out the legs! Move!" (And, assuming that Language Mastery allows for it…) Adam even switches to Samoan to speak directly to the Hawaiian Shirt Crew, having been around them enough to pick up bits and pieces of their language as if through osmosis.

Great jaws snap closed in the air where Owain had just been standing, ropes of slobber snapping and flying at the Scion, the Hound snarling in frustration as it misses its prey. The collected Scions fall back to hold off, and the Hound is confused for a moment, growling and looking around in confusion, blood still pouring from its wounded side. Its glowing eyes lock upon Adam, since he appears to be the one leading this band of morsels, and the beast snarls violently, before lunging at Adam, jaws wide, brilliantly white teeth like serrated blades aiming for the Scion's shoulder.

"Right, bad doggy, no biscuit." Sebastian was letting his brain do its thing as it accumulated the data from the scene. Rough trod path, greenery, various amounts of compatriots at bad angles to the thing and some being in the way more than others. Thankfully, ray guns were… okay ray guns were neither discrete or well meaning, they were made to put burns in things that were a threat and this doggy seemed like it. Exhaling slowly as his mind finished its calculation and called the shot, the weakness inherent in canines was their nose and he was about to give it something wicked to inhale. Squeezing the trigger, the power of Science! unleashed from the barrel of the relic, a powerful ray of energy moving straight for its ever moving target as the others moved to Adam's command.

'Orders? ORDERS?!' Ken was more used to giving orders than following them. Then again, he was with new people, and as such he didn't try to be bossy. And he realizes he's still young, but still; hide? But instinctively, he followed the orders. And as such he rolled away.

And now, with the big beast roaring, he seeks to cut up some mut again. He decides to get a vantage point, and jumps onto a nearby tree. He decides that here he'll use the same strategy as with that monster train.

Ken takes a moment to breathe, and then jumps into the air as high as he could, and as he falls he thrusts his blade down onto the back of the beast, utilizing the momentum of gravity.

He wasn't a fan of Physics, until he realized he could use it to do a lot of damage.

Blink. Guess her brother wasn't kidding about that occifer thing. Miruan slinks along towards the right side then, doing her best to keep her rifle steady. She now understands why most girls in anime who use guns have big chests: Gun rests, of course. Sheesh. She doesn't really contemplate this unfair rule of the universe, instead moving to the designated spot and - her eyebrows and face go level. Was that just a freaking laser blast that - and it's still - Sigh. Nevermind. Cold and calm. Business time. She gathers herself, lifting the gun neatly in a fluid motion up to chest level. Mindful not to ping a Samoan, Squid Vicious or anyone else in the fray. Thankfully, she has a bead on the thing and takes a shot. It's a standard shot for now - no fancy flips or what have you, though it's fairly impressive form given the chaos around her. Somehow, she's happy it's not ducks. She's not sure ducks like snowcones…

Lasers and sharp objects and WHY THE HELL DOES THIS DOG HATE ME?! And then its chasing Adam. Which is sort of a lucky break for Owain, because he just doesn't seem to be all that much good for the dancing and jumping and avoiding nature read in tooth and claw. He hears the orders, and he listens and watches for an opportunity, because a coordinated attack on this thing is better than cutting off little bits piecemeal. The rostrum spear roars to life, flecking bits of devil dog off of the bloody blade as he jumps most impressively into the air, aiming to land like a bolt from heaven and bring the full extent of the blade into the spawns innards. Anyone play Final Fanasty, the one with the guy in the purple always jumping and spearing things from on high like batman with a pointy stick? Yeah, its kinda like that! Only with added curbstompage.

Caitlin is one who follows orders, to an extent. The young Irishwoman would not be on this side of the ocean were she not one to follow orders. As such, she looks up at Adam when he gives the orders, and without another word moves forward to the dog when told. Her silver axes are raised and ready to strike, the blades swinging through the air in perfect unison as she charges at the undamaged side of the dog. The fiery Irishwoman launches herself towards the creature, a gutteral cry escaping her lips as she brings the axes down in unison, the weapons singing through the air, digging in at a weak point between the ribs of the animal.

Death, she be comin'. At least, that's what would go through Adam's mind… were he a pirate. Instead, Adam sees the creature level its beady little eyes on him and he shifts, widening his stance, arms raising slightly with his palms forward. Is he going to fight thing with his bare hands?! Fight may not be the right word, but Adam does manage to channel a bit of The Karate Kid, and when the massive creature lunges for him, he turns to the side and sweeps out his lead leg to shift behind him, watching the creature fly right on past.

Of course, it wouldn't be a proper drum rotation if one did not include the powerful right cross into the vulnerable side of the attacker, and Adam could not allow the classic cinema martial art move to go half-done. And so, he leans into the swing, putting all of his not-exactly-significant weight into the blow, even adding, like a kid in 4th year karate classes, a bellowing "Kiai!".

The great shadowy hound is no match for a coordinated attack of this magnitude. The combined might of the six Scions destroys the hound's defenses, allowing each attack to easly land in a vital area. It spins about in confusion unable to select an individual to focus on, and instead it whirls about, snapping wildly at nothing as each attack hits in quick succession. As the last lingering rays of Sebastian's gun fade, the last echoing booms of Miruan's gunshot fail, and the others complete their follow throughs, the beast pauses in mid turn, the ember eyes seeming to flicker for a moment before it simply drops over with a final wheezing whimper. The great monstrous dog lays in a collapsed heap on the pathway, red ichor oozing from the numerous wounds it has suffered.

As the monster fell to the ground, Sebastian paused and took a look around the area slowly scanning for movement. When he figured it was safe enough, he flipped the switch of his ray gun, the dynamos slowly powering down and discharging the device as he looked to the others. "Everyone alright? No bites, scratches, poisonous or acidic blood or slobber?" He held the gun gingerly waiting for it to cool off as he went over to the others, looking over the corpse and shaking his head. "What in the world could have made such a thing?" He looked a tad bit embarassed as he looked to were the things muzzle ought to have been were it not for his blaster.

"Good diet, maybe…?" Ken had heard of the missing people reports, didn't think too much of it then. 'Mystery solved…' he thought ruefully, and took heart in the fact that this creature can do no more harm again. THIS one, anyway. "It's dead, now. And I don't think anyone here caught anything…"

Ken took a listen, to see if there were any more of its kind. If there was, they would have came out by now, so he returns Red Tongue to its unarmed state of a small brace.

Ken turns to the guy with the ray gun. "Nice shootin' Tex. I think we all got him good."

Owain look up from the sky, extricating himself from the sawing pole of death and uncurling himself from it. The naginata is pulled free, shrinking and being placed within the confines of his jacket. "Took a few years off my life I think, but I'll live." Indeed, he just seems rather…blustered from jumping and last minute parrying and trying to avoid getting mauled. He cracks his knuckles as he notices Sebastan eye the headless dog. "We can answer that after we clean the mess up a bit. I don't fancy being the subject of some conspiracy column or urban legends website."

Phew. Miruan almost feels a bit sorry for the dog. A flick and soon her gun is back to bracelet form. "Not sure. Or maybe if it's just an indigenous critter of legend," She frowns. She is still for a moment, watching it quietly, almost intently. Poor Squiddles. "Yeah, no kidding. Owain is right, we should at least get rid of the worst of it." Cough. She looks to the others then, faintly concerned. "That was impressive from all of you, though," She smiles faintly.

Caitlin removes her axes from the beasts side, putting her foot against its rib cage to offer some leverage. Without thinking, she uses the hem of her cream colored dress to wipe the gore from the blades, grimacing for a moment when she realizes what she's done. "Tha was not entirely wha I expected when I headed here for tha evening. Bit 'o a taste of home, ta be honest, though I'd have prefered some mutton, or ale," Caitlin shakes her head and heads towards her wooden case, fliping the lid open and settling the axes back into their spots. Slinging the box back onto her back, Caitlin nods to the water, "If we can clear away the body, or at the very least move it, I should be able ta wash off tha pathway. Since a giant splatter o' blood is a wee bit suspicious. Even in this city."

Adam stands up to his full height again, after the small flurry of combat, and rolls his shoulders slightly, attempting to ease some tension from them. His eyes close and he pulls in a slow, deep breath. In through the nose, out to 3, out through the mouth. With that done, feeling centered, he opens his eyes and moves to stand over the large beast, listening as the others mention 'cleanup'. "Yeah, even around here." A pause. "Can we even carry the thing the way it is, or do we need to cut it up? I've seen busses smaller than this thing."

Nodding at word of clearing away the body, Sebastian flicked the switch back on the gun. "Well, I could just obliterate it with this. We'll want to put it on something non-flammable first though." He crouched down a bit, putting on gloves then tilting its 'head' back and forth a bit, examining it a bit more closely. "Might want some samples to examine back in the lab anyway. Seems a few bits of it weren't too damaged at least so might be able to work out parts for examination. If someones got a… more precise cutting tool than a pocket knife I'm looking for volunteers. Clear off what we can and I'll fry the rest of it."

"Just how precise do you mean?" Ken draws out his Red Tongue again, this time in its jian mode, which is easier to wield. The edge is fine. He motions the blade to the ray gun wielder. "I can make it smaller, if need be. Just let me know what you want. Typically not into skinning, but with the way things are going these days I'm learning…"

Hmmm. "Well…" Miruan glances over to her brother. She seems faintly amused for a moment, then goes quiet. "I would suspect things like limbs, hide or around what was the muzzle might be easier to carry. Most of the middle is doggy guts." She peers around it this way and that.

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