The wicked die alone.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

[Just past midnight, Thursday, August 14, day 445]
[The woods]

(Continued from here)

I still really ain't sure where we are. We been walkin' ferrat least a couple hours now, but th'clouds've covered th'moon, an'I can't judge what time't might be. Long 'nough fer th'wound'n m'should t'clot over an' m'arm t'go stiff's old leather. Ain't much else I c'n say beyond'at.

Glass'n me ain't spoken much, partly cuz we's both burnt out, partly 'cuz we wanna stay's quiet's possible. I ain't seen neither'a th'bitches since I left'em trapped'n screamin', but I ain't gonna count us 's anywhere near safe 'til we's outta th'woods 'n safe in our beds.

Pause's we cross into a clearin'. "Any idea how much further we got t'go?" I says inna whisper.


[OPEN to those from the previous scene, and others should they choose]

Comments

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

It's too many things to try to keep track of at once. Mab shooting, Chester yowling, Tez body checking me while telling me to fix her---

"DO NOT!!!"

And there goes my bedside manner.

"Don't what? Try to help?" I snap back, trying to pry Tez's fingers from my hair. "Or will you start shooting up unarmed people?" Look to Mab. "Guarentee it'll be the last thing you do you." If she hits me, I can heal myself, or Tez and I can fix him up while Mab shoots her dead...

Doesn't help Syl though, and I can feel her slipping away right before us.

[regal-vigilante.livejournal.com]

I get her, but Reed's back up and coming at me again.

Everyone's yelling and Chester's leaping again, but I'm living in that perfect place where none of that matters.

My left hand swings up over him and then I follow the arc of the recoil around, and throw myself over into Reed. I don't know what I ever did to her, but she's had a serious hate on for me for a while now and I am sick of it.

[pirate-mystic.livejournal.com]

Throws herself right at me. Smacks hard into me, an we're grapplin. Hit of her takes me down cos it ain't even, not nearly, when I'm shot, but I knock the gun outta her hand at least. An I'm older an meaner an got height an weight on her.

Pain in my shoulder's gettin bad enough to make me puke but I ain't got time for that. Got my knife in my off hand an if she gives me even a bit of an opening, yeah, gonna stick her.

[regal-vigilante.livejournal.com]

Tussle around for a bit, ignoring the chaos behind us. Reed's a strong woman- and like any good fighter she'll ignore her pain until she passes out. Too bad I don't think that'll be soon enough for me.

One's of my guns got knocked away when we went down, but that's just as well. See something catch the light for a second and I grab her wrist to crush the bones together best I can.

Take a chance and slam my head into her's while I thank whoever's listening for my thick skull.

[pirate-mystic.livejournal.com]

Hand's painful on my wrist, bones grinding. Bitch's stronger than she looks. And then there's just white light burstin behind my eyes, and red, an --

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

I know'ere's still shit goin' on...c'n hear't, c'n smell't, c'n feel't, somewhere b'yond th'deep grey fog'a pain'n weakness't's wrapped 'round me like a shroud. I c'n hear screamin'n strugglin', shots'n cursin', an' parta me wants t'sink way down deep inta th'quiet, but th'other parta me's sayin' strong'n hard, that I ain't done. Annat's th'parta me't shove's m'hand deep inta th'belly wound, inta th'crustin', oozin' blood, past skin'n muscle, annat opens'er eyes'n bares'er teeth, 'cause'ere ain't no witch, no proper witch, not never, 'at died wit'out givin'er own back.

She's th'one't's closest. Th'dark one, th'jitt'ry one. Wrestlin' wit' th'pretty redheaded sheriff. She's knocked back, hard, an' ferra minute, her eyes meet mine. Annat's jes' long 'nough fer me t'lunge forward, m'hand rippin' free'a m'belly, m'fingers curved inta claws, straked wit' blood'n shit, an'I rake'm 'cross'er face

Not yer face not yer face't all take'at mask off an' let's getta look't you

leavin' streaks'a dirty blood down 'n through'er skin, an'I fall back's she starts t'scream. There. There.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

Lucien's tugging on my arms and the woman on the ground has her gun aimed at us. Lucien is trying to argue with her. There's no point in that. She has a gun aimed at us. At my friend, and at - Syl.

Besides, she's lying down, and I'm fast. Fast enough. So I let go of Lucien, crouch, and jump.

Anyway, she only shoots me in my bad leg. I'm close enough that I fall on her, and bite the nearest part, which I think is her face.

[catherineknight.livejournal.com]

The demon-doctor snarls at me, "Don't what? Try to help? Or will you start shooting up unarmed people? Guarantee it'll be the last thing you do you."

Oh, Reed was right about him. Threatening and posturing, he is surely here to retain another servant for his Master. I will not allow it to happen.

But before I can respond, I see a blur of movement out of one eye, and the boy, the naked, mud-streaked boy, the boy with bleeding feet, who came from nowhere and screeched and howled like a feral cat...suddenly he is lunging for me. I would never shoot a child...but this cannot be a child. This is a demon, summoned by the witch to help protect her. And so I aim and pull the trigger with no compunctions. But the boy strikes me anyway, and I feel his teeth dig into my cheek. I scream in anger and pain and slam the butt of my rifle into his throat.

[chester-excolo.livejournal.com]

My target kicks at me an' I miss. Doc tries to argue with her but it ain't no use. I come back for another swipe at 'er, only the kid attacks her like I would and they both go down. Him with a bullet in his leg, her with his teeth in her face.

Can hear Mab is still fightin' the dark woman an' I'm torn 'tween finishing this fight an' goin' to help Mab, who might need me. But seeing the gun come up again and go into the kid's throat makes my decision for me. I let out the loudest yowl I can as I try to rip her arm apart so that she'll stop tryn' to kill him.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

Lucien makes a grab for me. It pulls me back enough to let her hit me in the throat with something. I think that crunch was cartilage: that's probably not good. I can fix it later. At least she's not on Syl any more.

Her blood tastes - odd. Somewhere there's a snag of angry recognition. I'm not thinking well at all, and everything hurts. I wish it would stop. Something's screaming in the dark, a small smell of cat and something less natural. If I can keep her pinned down this might stop. I think she's stronger than me, but more - breakable.

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

The world has gone insane. There's a song about that, I've heard Wanda sing it... such a funny thing to recall right now. Tez launches himself at the insane knight, and the gun goes off. I know it hit him, but he's still not stopping and---

"For fucks sake NO!!!" I scream when his teeth fasten in her cheek. I go to pull him away, but it just makes it worse. She gets a lucky shot it, and Tez's----

Crap. Oh crap. Oh fuckin' crap I know that look. Even in this new and vunerable looking form, I know that look.

"Brother, keep it together... I'll get Syl out of here, and we'll fix you up, just keep it together..."

Even as I'm trying to calm him I'm back peddling. Gotta get Syl out of here. Now.

[catherineknight.livejournal.com]

The boy is still struggling with me, but the blow to his throat knocks him back hard. And I can hear the doctor speaking to him, calling him "brother". Yes, of course, he would call the demon child brother. The cat-thing is clawing at my arm, and I strike it back with my arm. I still have my ridle, and I can...

Suddenly there is a shriek. A shriek of agony and terror, and I know the voice. "Reed?" I cry, struggling. "REED?!"

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Stay safe for god's sake," says the man who promptly goes barrelling out into the woods in the middle of the bloody night, because clear enough no-one else's meant t'risk cracking open their skull. Not as if this night might not give me enough work without adding to it...

He's the advantage of not having been staggering through woods since sundown, so outpaces me. Cruse through my teeth and follow, and when the screaming begins threading through the trees, the yowling and wailing, I slow to try and find something of use. A dead branch or something to throw or... something with a little more weight than a knife. Bloody mad how long folk can keep going with the blood spilling out, i all the tangle of a fight.

No dead yet, at least.

Takes a little digging to pry it loose but find a rock that I think'll suit, near enough in size to my child's skull, and stalk up behind Catherine yet unseen, measure my aim and let the motion of cracking it down across her skull be what pulls the cloak open.

And if this doesn't end in binding or senselessness, I will bloody well do it again. Twice, I needs must.

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

How in Hades Syl managed to move, let alone launch herself at Reed is beyond me. The last adrenaline rush at the end? Reed screeches like a banshee and claws at her own face, and it is something beyond just having her face raked I think---

"Holy fuck Glass!!!" I yelp and jump as she appears from nowhere. I want to ask exactly how she managed that trick, but there's blood and death everywhere. Tez shot, Reed bleeding, Syl who should be dead and the righteous Knight who surely has a cracked skull after that whallop Glass gave her.

"First thing's first..." I mutter and crouch over the Catherine. I touch her head, and the skull re-knits and the swelling eases back down. I don't make her as good as new, no. I don't want her up and swinging again, but I don't want her to die. I want her to live to answer for this. Reed'll live, so I leave off of her for the time being.

Tez--- Tez'll kill me if I don't help Syl. Try to, at least. Even as I put my hands on her, I can feel her slipping away like so much water through my fingers. Is the damange too much? Is she too far gone?

"Come on Syl, stay with me..." I whisper as I close my eyes and let the healing do what it can.

I hope I am not too late.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

I look up just as Glass Beddau steps out of nowhere and hits the woman over the head with a rock. Well. That works, I suppose.

I think I do like Glass.

Lucien's crouching over the woman on the ground. I don't care about her. She's sick anyway: I can taste it in her blood, though it's not making its way into mine. I crawl back to Syl and pull her head into my lap. There's so much blood. It goes beyond the familiar smell of her; it's like someone butchering an animal, the moment when they open up the stomach.

"It's okay, honey." I don't know when I'm talking to her from, which part of me's talking. I don't know what I'm saying. "It's okay. You did so good. It's okay."

[chester-excolo.livejournal.com]

Should've expected to get thumped like that, but it still takes me by surprise. I'm still recovering from the blow to my head when the screaming starts up and I flatten to the ground, ears tight to my head. Look up a moment later to see Glass appear an' hit Catherine with a rock, an that seems to change everything.


Now that the fight's pretty much over, Doc goes over to start doin' his job. I c'n feel the life magic pourin' between him an' the witch. Hunh. Didn't know he could do that! I tuck the knowledge away to share with Hermia, an head over to Mab. Tellin' Glass "Thanks" on the way. If no one else is gonna say it, I will. I think we're mostly done here but I wanna make sure.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Nod to Chester, and after there's some assurance that no-one's going after Syl nor myself nor aught else with knife or bullet, I set the rock down. My hands can still feel the bruise of her skull. But she'll live, they'll all live, leastways 'til tomorrow. I've no-one I need to lay out tonight.

Mab and Chester and Lucien and Micah to manage three, and that's a little thin; offer to see Catherine or Reed bound and stand over them with the rock if they need to take the pair back in shifts. And someone'd best see to getting Micah something in the way of clothes. And shoes. But one way or another, it's sorted. It's all sorted.

I'm a bloody misery, and I'm going the hell home.