[[from here]]No one had been within immediate range of the door, but Sasuke took care to keep in the shadow cast by the walls as he slipped outside
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Schuldig, facing away from the source of the danger and thus the last for the smell to reach, had less warning than the others. Greed's growl of confusion and alarm, just before the dogs launched themselves, was the first thing to get his attention and drag it forcibly to the matter at hand.
As arrogant as Schuldig was about most things, he held no illusions as to his fighting ability. He was fast, yes, and with the edge that telepathy gave him he could take on almost anyone...but his winning hinged on two requirements, one being that his opponents were human with reflexes that weren't highly superior to his own to begin with, and the other being that his opponents were creatures with decipherable mind processes(he'd never really gotten the hang of animal thoughts - he could occasionally catch the gist of an emotion, such as contentment or anger, but on the whole they were just too foreign to decipher or manipulate; anyway, he hadn't even sensed the presence of the dogs' minds before they'd attacked so he wasn't getting anything from them). It also generally helped if he had a gun in his hands, which he didn't.
So, that left Schuldig unarmed, looking at four apparently undead wolves (maybe they were just dogs, but their intent seemed to fit the wolf profile better, and really what the hell did it matter?) whose minds he couldn't read and whose moves he couldn't anticipate. The German didn't need his precognitive to tell him how this was going to turn out for them.
But hell, who said it had to be them? Greed was supposed to be a competent enough fighter to look after himself(as far as Schuldig was concerned, that was exactly what he was supposed to contribute to their partnership), and he had no ties to Vincent whatsoever...anyway, it's not like he could help whether or not he hung around to get mauled, aside from perhaps distracting one of them long enough to start gnawing on him.
Anyway, he had - just before turning away from the building - spotted a way to climb up. It hinged heavily, and precariously, on a somewhat rusted drainpipe, but Schuldig was a thin man and climbed like a spider. Besides, the things a man could do when he was desperate were amazing.
Already the farthest away from the attacking monsters, Schuldig all but evaporated into the shadows of the building, moving fast.
The walls were high, but the ivy on some of them looked climbable. Vincent immediately ran as fast as he could through the wet grass, sandals long gone and pants soaked to the ankle. If they could just make it to the fence...
But when he realized Greed hadn't followed at all, he skidded to a squelching halt, straining to make out what was going on in the thick fog. The other man shouted; he'd been attacked. Vincent paused, hovering for an unsure moment and torn between seeking safety and dashing back into literally the jaws of wolves.
Then he saw the telepath, unfaltering even as his companion screamed in his mad sprint for the building and leaving them both for dead.
"Dammit," Vincent swore, and he ran back into the field.
The largest dog, the one that had lunged first, yowled in pain, but not before it managed to take a nice chunk out of the homunculus's shoulder. It dropped back to the ground, backing off for half a second before dashing for the man's legs.
Two of the dogs, meanwhile, turned to face the sound of another approaching person. All four weren't needed to take down a single human, so the two broke off, sprinting to one side before closing in on the newcomer and snapping at his legs.
Greed staggered backwards, one clawed hand clutching at his shoulder as he stared with wide eyes at his attacker. The pain was worse than it ever had been back home, and even as he jumped back when the dog went in for another taste of, he realized suddenly that the flesh of his shoulder wasn't growing back.
Even without the stones that Dante had drained him, even with Edward Elric's automail plunged into his chest, his body had never felt this useless and weak in a fight.
The homunculus didn't even have time to notice how his "follower" had quite literally left him to the dogs as he whirled around with his good arm and lunged at the thing with his carbon claws.
It was a rare moment indeed that Greed felt this sentiment and truly tried to abide by it: Kill or be killed, and if he didn't learn fast, it'd be the latter.
Schuldig found himself disappointed by the wall. He'd thought that the drainpipe he'd seen would hold up a little longer under his weight than it had - but then he'd also thought that the wall wasn't quite as high as it had turned out to be. Possibly in his alarm at the wolves he'd mistaken the height; whatever the case, he hadn't even made it a third of the way up before the drainpipe gave and left him without any decent handholds, forcing him to drop back to the ground.
Fortunately, however, the wolves didn't seem to be paying him any mind; he'd lucked out in that respect. Greed, bleeding now, had two of the dogs more or less occupied, and the other two had turned on Vincent, who (being somewhat stupider than Schuldig had expected) had rushed back to help Greed once he'd ascertained that Schuldig didn't intend to do it. Well, let him. Schuldig personally didn't want either man to die - Greed was an ally and Vincent's mind was bitter ambrosia - but nothing could have induced him to face down some slavering undead dogs barehanded. They were the fighters; let them handle it.
Although the wolves were more interested in the prey they already had, the telepath didn't feel like running any risks; with only some minor difficulties, he managed to swing himself up on top of the frame of the door they'd come out of. It wasn't exactly a comfortable perch, and it required a constant effort of balance(not that he hadn't done more extreme things, but never in this desperate of a situation), but Schuldig viewed it as a vastly preferable option when compared to being gnawed.
From his perch, he studied his companions' predicaments; he would have suggested that they run if it were a viable option, but Vincent had given up his chance and Greed, already bleeding, had never had one to begin with.
He tried, briefly, to force his way into the wolves' mind without any hint of success; they were as locked off as the minds of the staff, although he wasn't sure if animals that looked so undead had functioning minds to begin with. He'd have to find some other way to save Greed's ass...
He began sifting through the minds of patients nearby, wondering if he could call in some of Vincent's allies to distract the animals, if nothing else.
And immediately Vincent slammed his arm into the skull of one of them as it snapped at his legs, by now thankfully used to the shock that rocketed up his shoulder. Maybe this hadn't been such a fantastic idea.
Teeth sunk into his right leg and he nearly buckled at the sudden pain, kicking viciously at its source before diving into an evasive roll. Ignoring the sting of gashes in his calf, Vincent whipped around to face the onslaught with fists curled and an angry snarl.
But now blood had been spilled, and the prey seemed much easier to acquire. After taking a chunk out of the first man's shoulder, the biggest dog dove to the ground before springing back, aiming again for the throat of his victim. The second snapped at his heels, aiming to throw the homunculus off-balance for an easier kill.
The other two, unfortunately were not having such an easy time. One of the unlucky creatures got beaned in the skull and stumbles stupidly for a moment or two, completely disoriented and probably slightly brain-damaged. The other, not sparing a moment's attention for its packmate, circled his opponent warily, for now that strange arm had been made clear as A Weapon and he didn't want to put itself in a position to get hit with it.
Greed couldn't do anything but stumble backwards as fast as he humanly could, left arm useless at his side from the wound in his shoulder that now bled down his arm and mingled with the red of the ouroboros on the back of his hand. Lot of good that damn insignia was doing him now, reflexes and senses feeling all the more mortal and sluggish as he realized the first mutt was coming at him again.
Greed didn't have much time to think as he threw himself to the ground to avoid another blow from the rotting thing, though he realized only a moment later that he'd only put himself right in the path of his second attacker.
"Shit!" He hissed through his jagged teeth, chest heaving hard as he attempted to pull it from the ground, and it was all he could do to whip out his clawed hand towards the thing and try to get its eyes.
Schuldig swore, quietly but colorfully, in German. Maybe it was a result of his distraction - there were evidently a number of patients being attacked tonight, and the sheer amount of terror and pain was as deliciously difficult to ignore as a blowjob; his mind was practically marinating in it - or maybe his powers were weaker than he'd realized, but he couldn't seem to get anyone's attention. So much for calling in reinforcements.
On the other hand, that meant that he'd done everything he could short of being down on the ground and getting ripped up with the rest of them. He was free to simply observe; he might not like watching a potential ally ripped to shreds but the sheer agony of Greed's mind right now was worth luxuriating in, at least if Schuldig had nothing else to do.
It was circling him, searching for weakness and opportunity to strike while the other one fortunately stumbled around dazed. There was absolutely nothing Vincent could do except wait pensively with gritted teeth for one of them to move. If he took a step from his guarded, defensive crouch while the "wolf"'s muscles coiled with potential energy, that would be it.
It was a standoff, and dogs were far less patient than prey that was already bleeding. If he wasn't going to move, he would have to be made to move so that a better opening could be found. The attack didn't come from the front, though.
The homunculus was putting up more of a fight than the dogs had been expecting, it seemed. There was a loud yelp as one of them was caught across the face -- whether blinded or simply injured was hard to tell -- and the other seemed to think that its current target was far more trouble than it was worth. Rather than hang around and risk further injury, it turned to study the other group for about half a second before realizing what was going on. It moved quickly, positioning itself outside of the crouching man's line of sight before making a running lunge for the neck.
Greed allowed himself a breath as one of the dogs pulled back, injured by his blow right where he'd wanted it to be. It was with a weary smirk and shaky legs that he staggered up and let his violet eyes follow the other dog as it rushed over to some other form of prey...
The smirk dropped from Greed's face as he realized who the dogs were ganging up on, and the sides of his mouth turned into a full-out snarl as his eyes darted up to the form of Schuldig clinging to a drainpipe like the fucking pussy he was.
Greed might have known to turn away from the dog he assumed he'd incapacitated had he not been the kind of man used to not having to watch his back--not in a literal sense, anyway. In any case, he wasn't dumb enough to hang around a fight he couldn't win, but if he left now, he'd be just as bad as that little bitch above the doorframe...
"Shit," he grunted, not so much rushing towards Vincent as trying to rush towards a point near him until he felt like he could actually score a hit. "We can't fucking take them on!"
He turned toward Greed's voice just in time to see the wolf leap for his throat, and Vincent's leg gave underneath him with the impact. He hurtled to the ground, cold dew seeping through his clothes, and he just barely managed to seize its jaws with both hands, squeezing. The flesh on his real hand bled from the sharp teeth under it.
The dog made a loud, startled noise, tossing its head as well as it could and bearing down on the hand in its mouth with as much force as its powerful jaws could muster. The second dog started to circle, looking for an opening to attack. There was no sign of the other two.
As arrogant as Schuldig was about most things, he held no illusions as to his fighting ability. He was fast, yes, and with the edge that telepathy gave him he could take on almost anyone...but his winning hinged on two requirements, one being that his opponents were human with reflexes that weren't highly superior to his own to begin with, and the other being that his opponents were creatures with decipherable mind processes(he'd never really gotten the hang of animal thoughts - he could occasionally catch the gist of an emotion, such as contentment or anger, but on the whole they were just too foreign to decipher or manipulate; anyway, he hadn't even sensed the presence of the dogs' minds before they'd attacked so he wasn't getting anything from them). It also generally helped if he had a gun in his hands, which he didn't.
So, that left Schuldig unarmed, looking at four apparently undead wolves (maybe they were just dogs, but their intent seemed to fit the wolf profile better, and really what the hell did it matter?) whose minds he couldn't read and whose moves he couldn't anticipate. The German didn't need his precognitive to tell him how this was going to turn out for them.
But hell, who said it had to be them? Greed was supposed to be a competent enough fighter to look after himself(as far as Schuldig was concerned, that was exactly what he was supposed to contribute to their partnership), and he had no ties to Vincent whatsoever...anyway, it's not like he could help whether or not he hung around to get mauled, aside from perhaps distracting one of them long enough to start gnawing on him.
Anyway, he had - just before turning away from the building - spotted a way to climb up. It hinged heavily, and precariously, on a somewhat rusted drainpipe, but Schuldig was a thin man and climbed like a spider. Besides, the things a man could do when he was desperate were amazing.
Already the farthest away from the attacking monsters, Schuldig all but evaporated into the shadows of the building, moving fast.
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But when he realized Greed hadn't followed at all, he skidded to a squelching halt, straining to make out what was going on in the thick fog. The other man shouted; he'd been attacked. Vincent paused, hovering for an unsure moment and torn between seeking safety and dashing back into literally the jaws of wolves.
Then he saw the telepath, unfaltering even as his companion screamed in his mad sprint for the building and leaving them both for dead.
"Dammit," Vincent swore, and he ran back into the field.
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Two of the dogs, meanwhile, turned to face the sound of another approaching person. All four weren't needed to take down a single human, so the two broke off, sprinting to one side before closing in on the newcomer and snapping at his legs.
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Even without the stones that Dante had drained him, even with Edward Elric's automail plunged into his chest, his body had never felt this useless and weak in a fight.
The homunculus didn't even have time to notice how his "follower" had quite literally left him to the dogs as he whirled around with his good arm and lunged at the thing with his carbon claws.
It was a rare moment indeed that Greed felt this sentiment and truly tried to abide by it: Kill or be killed, and if he didn't learn fast, it'd be the latter.
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Fortunately, however, the wolves didn't seem to be paying him any mind; he'd lucked out in that respect. Greed, bleeding now, had two of the dogs more or less occupied, and the other two had turned on Vincent, who (being somewhat stupider than Schuldig had expected) had rushed back to help Greed once he'd ascertained that Schuldig didn't intend to do it. Well, let him. Schuldig personally didn't want either man to die - Greed was an ally and Vincent's mind was bitter ambrosia - but nothing could have induced him to face down some slavering undead dogs barehanded. They were the fighters; let them handle it.
Although the wolves were more interested in the prey they already had, the telepath didn't feel like running any risks; with only some minor difficulties, he managed to swing himself up on top of the frame of the door they'd come out of. It wasn't exactly a comfortable perch, and it required a constant effort of balance(not that he hadn't done more extreme things, but never in this desperate of a situation), but Schuldig viewed it as a vastly preferable option when compared to being gnawed.
From his perch, he studied his companions' predicaments; he would have suggested that they run if it were a viable option, but Vincent had given up his chance and Greed, already bleeding, had never had one to begin with.
He tried, briefly, to force his way into the wolves' mind without any hint of success; they were as locked off as the minds of the staff, although he wasn't sure if animals that looked so undead had functioning minds to begin with. He'd have to find some other way to save Greed's ass...
He began sifting through the minds of patients nearby, wondering if he could call in some of Vincent's allies to distract the animals, if nothing else.
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Teeth sunk into his right leg and he nearly buckled at the sudden pain, kicking viciously at its source before diving into an evasive roll. Ignoring the sting of gashes in his calf, Vincent whipped around to face the onslaught with fists curled and an angry snarl.
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The other two, unfortunately were not having such an easy time. One of the unlucky creatures got beaned in the skull and stumbles stupidly for a moment or two, completely disoriented and probably slightly brain-damaged. The other, not sparing a moment's attention for its packmate, circled his opponent warily, for now that strange arm had been made clear as A Weapon and he didn't want to put itself in a position to get hit with it.
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Greed couldn't do anything but stumble backwards as fast as he humanly could, left arm useless at his side from the wound in his shoulder that now bled down his arm and mingled with the red of the ouroboros on the back of his hand. Lot of good that damn insignia was doing him now, reflexes and senses feeling all the more mortal and sluggish as he realized the first mutt was coming at him again.
Greed didn't have much time to think as he threw himself to the ground to avoid another blow from the rotting thing, though he realized only a moment later that he'd only put himself right in the path of his second attacker.
"Shit!" He hissed through his jagged teeth, chest heaving hard as he attempted to pull it from the ground, and it was all he could do to whip out his clawed hand towards the thing and try to get its eyes.
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On the other hand, that meant that he'd done everything he could short of being down on the ground and getting ripped up with the rest of them. He was free to simply observe; he might not like watching a potential ally ripped to shreds but the sheer agony of Greed's mind right now was worth luxuriating in, at least if Schuldig had nothing else to do.
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He flexed his real fingers.
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The homunculus was putting up more of a fight than the dogs had been expecting, it seemed. There was a loud yelp as one of them was caught across the face -- whether blinded or simply injured was hard to tell -- and the other seemed to think that its current target was far more trouble than it was worth. Rather than hang around and risk further injury, it turned to study the other group for about half a second before realizing what was going on. It moved quickly, positioning itself outside of the crouching man's line of sight before making a running lunge for the neck.
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The smirk dropped from Greed's face as he realized who the dogs were ganging up on, and the sides of his mouth turned into a full-out snarl as his eyes darted up to the form of Schuldig clinging to a drainpipe like the fucking pussy he was.
Greed might have known to turn away from the dog he assumed he'd incapacitated had he not been the kind of man used to not having to watch his back--not in a literal sense, anyway. In any case, he wasn't dumb enough to hang around a fight he couldn't win, but if he left now, he'd be just as bad as that little bitch above the doorframe...
"Shit," he grunted, not so much rushing towards Vincent as trying to rush towards a point near him until he felt like he could actually score a hit. "We can't fucking take them on!"
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He turned toward Greed's voice just in time to see the wolf leap for his throat, and Vincent's leg gave underneath him with the impact. He hurtled to the ground, cold dew seeping through his clothes, and he just barely managed to seize its jaws with both hands, squeezing. The flesh on his real hand bled from the sharp teeth under it.
He was such an idiot.
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