(no subject)
WHO: Caim, Celene Hunter, Joseph Suen (wanders in late)
WHERE: Paranormal Sector, The Scion World (Los Angeles)
WHEN: September 11
WHAT: Caim gets lost in the Gates, ends up in LA. Wackiness ensues (and property damage)
WATCH FOR: Those poor cars, and Celene not caring about her cohort's suffering.
Los Angeles, California, The World -
One of the greatest metropolitan centers of the modern age, Los Angeles is a teeming city full of life and culture. From Chinatown to the Westside, there is something for every imaginable person somewhere in Los Angeles.
Including those who most don't even realize exist. Los Angeles is home to almost as many denizens of the Overworld as it is home to humans. Aztec Scions carve out turf among the inner-city gangs, while the inheritors of the Legend of Egypt and the children of the Loa maintain the power of law within the city and within individual communities. The Greeks and Norse do as they always do - fighting and dying in epic conflicts, raising up humanity by their actions, and crushing the enemies of the world. And all the while, titanspawn lurk in the shadows, silently corrupting the City of Angels from within...
Caim transmits the sounds of a bit of a scuffle. Then silence. Then the sound of someone tapping curiously at the housing of a radio. *TAPTAPTAP*
Han Su Li says, "Hey!"
Caim continues tapping arhythmically for a bit, then shakes the radio in irritation.
Celene Hunter puff. "Miiiight be an animal. Anyone there?"
Han Su Li says, "Hard to tell."
Caim finally gives in to frustration and smashes the radio against something. Probably a Buick, judging by the sound of breaking glass and a car alarm before the poor little handset gives out into static.
Celene Hunter says, "..."
Peleps Kaizoku Seki loudly, "OFF SWITCH!"
Peleps Kaizoku Seki says, "NOT HARD."
Peleps Kaizoku Seki says, "Yeesh."
Effulgent Autem Wayfarer says, "Percussive use of the device will impair its functioning."
Ryusei Date says, "... Uh..."
It had taken time and effort to track his quarry after he'd lost her. The trail had led to a curious bit of architecture. That strange portal had led to... unimaginable things.
After a brief, confusing tour of the Hub, he'd found his way back through one of those odd structures. He had no idea if it was the same one.
Or rather, he didn't until he'd stepped through it. This... was not his world. Not in the slightest. Wanting to know what was going on, it had been a trivial thing to relieve a local of what was apparently a means of collecting information. Though whatever "Bears are in the finals" meant was beyond him. A bit of fiddling got new voices, but nothing of use. And so the handset was left buried in the hood of a nearby car, said vehicle shrieking its displeasure to the surrounding neighborhood as the One-Eyed Man wandered off.
Though he was obviously not dressed in the current fashions (how many people on the street carried swords, in this day and age?) he remained unmolested. Probably due to some innate survival instinct still present in humanity. Also probably because he spent most of his time in back alleys, away from the confusing noise and lights of the main streets. And then... and then the taxi had startled him. He hadn't even thought about his reaction, was moving even before the sound of the horn had really registered. Suddenly, the alley that particular poor fool of a driver had chosen to try and take a shortcut through spat out the shredded remains of the vehicle, the hood caved in, the passenger compartment torn open and one door sailing high overhead in a graceful arc.
As little as this world knows how to deal with Caim, he knows even less how to deal with it.
How many carry swords?
More than most would think. The Children of the Gods inhabit this world Caim has found himself in, and those mighty Scions often find melee weapons to be the more effective form of defeating their powerful foes.
But some of them are not so fortunate, and one such hero of the world is Celene Hunter, sniper for the LAPD SWAT team.
The order was pretty simple. Caim broke his radio, and Celene, a routine for her by now, cast the spell of the Unlidded Eye, gazing upon Fate with eyes unhindered by the blinders placed upon mortal eyes...and immediately knew she was in pretty deep shit. She's not sure what it is that's signaling her, what exactly is out there now, but she knows two things:
It is enormously powerful...and it is very, /very/ angry.
Which is why Celene is where she is now, on her motorcycle, making for Caim's location at top speed, her Remington already slung over her shoulder, her bike's police lights and siren blaring, while a couple police cruisers likewise approach. Silently slipping between two cars, Celene mutters a prayer to Hades, knowing perfectly well that the odds are good that these men will not survive the next ten minutes.
Luckily for the surrounding population, when confronted with stimuli such as these, the common reaction is to RUN LIKE HELL.
Indeed, as the local populace flees the site of that poor taxicab's mauling, a man steps out of the alley after it. He's dressed oddly, looks like he hasn't slept indoor in several months, and is holding an obviously well-used two-handed broadsword down at his side, frowning in confused irritation. The sounds of approaching sirens only comes across as meaningless noise for the One-Eyed Man, at first. Indeed, he steps out to poke at the wreckage he so recently created, first shoving at the car with a foot, then jabbing it a couple times with the point of his sword, marring the bodywork but not really contributing any further to its mangled state.
And then the cavalry arrives.
Caim's head whips up as the police cruisers pull up nearby, lights and sirens blazing, and his lips draw back from his teeth in a silent snarl. He doesn't even really comprehend that these are simply vehicles, thinking them some odd form of automata or golem. Of course, the people jumping out of them and pointing things at him draw some confusion, but...
Good eye narrowed in anger, Caim brings his sword up, holding it off to one side with both hands on the hilt, glaring with open threat towards the police officers. Even without words, there is something in his posture, in the very air around the man that states that he will kill these people without remorse, guilt, or even hesitation. Just give him a reason.
Celene is already analyzing the situation as people start reporting. None dead - that they can tell, anyway. One seriously injured cab driver, one /totaled/ taxi, and a bunch of terrified people...they the rest of SWAT is called in to deal with riot control and the CAUSE, which is...
...one guy.
"One man!?" Celene barks into her helmet-equipped radio.
"Yes, ma'am! One man. He's got a sword. He looks very angry!"
Pause. Celene can't tell them to just open fire, but she wants to. She's pretty sure whoever gives Caim the warning is going to die, but as the sniper, she can't give that warning herself, and...agh. She wishes Leon were here.
"Fine. Carry on as normal!" she calls, veering off down a side street. "I'm going to set up a sniping position! Give me...five minutes!"
The police on site eye Caim warily. Hunter's nervous. Hunter knows this shit better than they do. Fuck. Finally, though, someone takes the initiative, pulling out his car radio and switching it to speak out of the loudspeaker in his vehicle.
"Attention!" the young man calls. "This is the Police! You are causing a violent disturbance! Please drop your weapon and put your hands up!"
Maybe that'll work. Maybe he just doesn't't realize he's causing a problem! Yeah!
Causing a disturbance? Him? Naw.
Caim actually looks vaguely insulted when the trooper orders him to stand down. What the hell is this? They don't even bother shooting first? What kind of weak... bah, screw it. This was getting him nowhere.
Instead of complying, Caim rises from his ready stance, letting his sword hang in one hand as he starts walking towards the nearest police cruiser. Not running, but not dawdling. The thunderous scowl on his face hints that he's a mite displeased, however.
Even should he come under fire, the man does not slow. Indeed, being shot would just send him into a frenzy, closing the distance all the faster. However he reaches it, though, when Caim gets within reach of the squad car in question, he quite simply rears back with one fist and PUNCHES the thing right in the hood. This does not result in a set of broken knuckles and a dented hood, however. The result is far more spectacular than that. Much like someone had slammed a sledgehammer into the hood of the car, really. There's enough force involved to actually lift the rear end of the car slightly from the ground before it jars back to earth, the One-Eyed Man ripping his gauntleted fist out of the hole in the hood the reclaim his grip on his sword and snarl silently at the nearby officers.
Challenge issued. If they try to run, he'll kill them like the cowards they are. If they fight... eh, they're probably die anyway. All the same to him.
... ... ...
"Ma'am?"
"BUSY."
"He just punched the car and it broke and I think he's going to punch me next and it's my baby's birthday tomorrow and"
" ... ... right. Don't move. He might track based on motion. ...and try not to sweat. He might be able to smell your fear."
It's days like these that Celene Hunter does not earn brownie points within her organization.
But she's good at what she does, which is protect people from dying when folks like Caim get all up in their grills. Which is why the officer, quivering and terrified...stands his ground, stares Caim right in the eye, stare, stare, stare, oh god oh god "OH GOD HE'S GONNA KILL US"
And thus it is that Private Manuel Gomez, father of two, a proud member of the Los Angeles Police Department, for the first time staring death right in the eyes...caves, as so many men have before him, and moves to flee--
--at exactly the same time as a motorcycle comes SCREAMING over the top of a nearby shop, and the sound of a bolt being cocked can be heard, and the thunderous report of a rifle going off, and unless Caim is very fast he will find another thing to distract him, that being a bullet lodged in his shoulder.
The motorcycle lands, circles for a moment, and then skids to a halt, and its driver rips off her helmet, revealing blonde hair and green eyes and a deadly serious expression, a dark gaze peering over blue-rimmed glasses.
"Hey, sparky," says Celene Hunter, already imbued with the blessings of Fate. "Over here."
Caim is all set to chase the poor coward whose nerve failed. His legs begin to tighten as he draws in, lips pulling into an expression that bares some passing resemblance to a lunatic grin, his fingers tightening on his sword hilt...
And then the Hunter arrives.
The noise of the shot doesn't make Caim pause in the slightest, but the bullet slamming into his shoulder gets his attention, knocking him off balance and whipping his attention around to the newest arrival, mouth open in what would be a howl of pain and fury. But there is no sound, not even a rasp of breath.
Of course, that's when Caim achieves lock and launches, leaping over the hood of the car that he so recently caved in and charging towards Celene with all the finesse and delicate maneuvering of a freight train with faulty brakes, his sword raised to the attack, all sense and hesitation suddenly gone from his mismatched gaze.
Someone attacked him, it is time for battle.
Celene watches for about two seconds. "Strong. I bet if that sword hits me it'll cut me right in two, right? And you're a sprinter...but you don't have the muscles of someone who can move agilely." Celene calmly, controlled, with eminently careful motions, stands up, hangs her helmet on the handlebar of her bike, and then steps away just a little, so that Caim isn't going to cut her bike in half, because it's a nice bike. "You're also completely silent...some kind of unnatural ability, am I right?"
The sword is coming.
Celene back flips, coming down in a hand stand balanced on her Remington, and then whips back up and away, narrowly evading complete murder. Caim will have to try much harder than that. She pushes off, bounding away from the ground, and in mid-flight, there's the kchnk KCHAK of her rifle's bolt cycling, and then the KABLAM of another round heading for Caim's chest, and then the tp tp of Celene's feet hitting the ground.
She reaches into one pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, and bringing it up to her lips. "You're kind of clumsy, too," she remarks.
He's very fast. Not fast enough that Celene expects to get hit too many times, in a fight like this - not with her powers, not with her speed. But even just that one lucky hit could be...
She needs to get him away from people he can target, and then get out of his targeting range herself. In that order. God she hates tanking.
The trouble with attempting to string Caim along has always, always been staying out of his reach. And... this can be harder than it sounds.
Caim's blade rips through the air along a path that would have left Celene in two smaller pieces had it connected, the warrior following through with the ease and odd grace of long practice. Though he never was and never will be a lithe and flowing fencer, there is a certain flow to Caim's movements. He's done this for a long time, with many weapons, in many environments, to many people. He knows what he is doing on a nearly instinctual level, the howling fury within him merely serving as impetus.
Even as his first strike cleaves only air, the warrior continues to charge, following Celene as quickly as he can. Nonetheless, the next bullet catches him square in the chest, breaking his stride and making him stagger, nearly falling to the side as his leg comes down at the wrong angle, his balance thrown off. But... he doesn't look like he's going down. Or even particularly in pain. Just... I think you pissed it off, Celene.
Suddenly, there is a roar that voices all the rage that the warrior cannot speak aloud. The roar of flames, fire leaping up around Caim before blasting out towards the sniper, thrown as a trio of fireballs with a rending gesture of one hand, each roughly the size of a man. They don't seek their target, but whatever they hit will certainly notice.
Celene's already thinking. His voice is unnaturally silent. Why? Was it a price for some power he wields? Was he just born without vocal chords? Did Fate just punch him in the tonsils when he was a kid? Options, options, and no time to debate them...
...because he's THROWING FIREBALLS.
"Well," Celene says, cool and professional, "That, I was not expecting." And then she's moving. They don't track her, so hitting her is hard. And Caim has now demonstrated that she will need to get CREATIVE to stay out of his way, and that means...
The world sings as a Legend is told, and Celene turns to one side, saying nothing except "Not today!" before BOUNDING away - leaping up, up, up, impossibly high, INHUMANLY high, up and over the front of a nearby building, traveling several stories higher than she would need to before coming down. He can't hit her; and no matter how many times she hits him, he won't go down.
This is about par for the course for Celene.
Celene's rifle goes kchnk kCHAK. She doesn't fire again, just preparing to do so, getting ready...when she sees how he reacts to this, she'll know if she's in a good position to lure him away from this area, while the police clear the street out, so that Celene can do this properly. She'll need a higher-power assault to take a man like this down...and she might just have the thing. IF she can lure him there.
Those from Caim's world know of the arcane bonding that is a Pact, the merging of two souls to strengthen both participants. And the price that goes with that power. Always something important, something that cannot be replaced. Some lose something physical, some things less tangible. Caim gave his voice for his life.
Thundering to a halt at the foot of the building that Celene just leapt to the top of, Caim stares upwards, eyes wide in mingled surprise and frustrated fury. How DARE she just... run from him? Lips drawn back from his teeth, the man's jaw opens in what would be a howl, the intricate black sigil on his tongue perhaps visible for a moment as he gives in to base instinct, uncaring that his rage will not reach her through that path.
His one good eye whips back and forth. A building like this /has/ to have a way to get to the roof. Even a weird place like this can't ignore that, can it? So...
A ground-level door is kicked in with enough force to send it hurtling into the stairwell, and Caim begins charging upwards. The thought of leaving while he had the chance never even entered his mind. A challenge has been given, and must be answered.
Celene will be sure to ask someone about it in the future.
For now, she has an angry sword-wielding magician after her.
When Caim busts down the door, Celene looks over - spots the point where he'll have to enter the roof from - and then simply takes off at a jog (Caim wouldn't be able to keep up if she were sprinting. Some /cars/ wouldn't be able to keep up if she were sprinting...) toward the edge of the roof, bounding over the next building and on to another storefront roof nearby.
And when the door opens, and Caim comes out, she fires again, to get his attention.
Just got to get him to FOLLOW, now, and...well, she's already got that.
One thing about Caim. He doesn't tire. In his headlong charge up the stairs to the roof, he doesn't take breaks, and still has enough breath in him to repeat his performance from ground level. Namely, the door doesn't open so much as go flying across the roof as a booted foot slams into it, tearing it free from its hinges with a shriek of distressed metal, the door itself fairly badly buckled as well. And then there is Caim, leaping out onto the roof in search of his adversary. The *CRACK* of the rifle and the feel of another bullet punching into him whips Caim around like a compass needle to a magnet, and he charges headlong towards Celene, not even slowing down as he hits the edge of the building. And his increased strength makes the leap across the gap easier than any mere human could ever hope.
How long do you intend to lead him on this wild goose chase, Hunter? For he doesn't seem to be slowing down in the slightest.
Until he /DOES/ slow down!
More specifically, Celene is completely cognizant of the fact that she is faster than Caim, but that Caim won't fall until probably /after/ she's run out of bullets. She needs to either soften him up or eject him from the area entirely. She doesn't want to waste her trump cards until she's sure it'll work, and that means...
...well, that means running him ragged. She shoulders her rifle, flips her lighter out of her pocket, and takes off running away from Caim, lighting up the cigarette still hanging from her lips as she goes. There's a reason for that, which Caim might just find out later.
For now, Celene bounds across a few more rooftops, leading AWAY, but away to WHERE, ah, that's the question...except suddenly she stops, looks back to make sure Caim's still back there (WAY too close for comfort) and then she shoulders her way into another building's rooftop access, quickly bounding down the stairs, jumping over entire flights as she goes.
She is going to get in so much trouble for this, but...hey, if it works...!
It's probably a lot like outrunning a runaway car. Or an avalanche. Every time you look back, there it is, still charging along. Still intent on grinding you to sticky paste beneath it.
Soon after Celene starts her descent, Caim crashes into the stairwell, nearly tearing this door from its hinges as well. A skid of bootsoles against the stairway landing as he glares down over the railing, then the maniac finally sheathes his sword, grabs the railing in both hands and leaps over, taking the quickest way down, floor by floor. He can't just drop straight down, sadly, there's stuff in the way. But he was considering it. Instead, there's a steady thud, thud, thud as Caim's boots slam into each landing, completely ignoring the stairs as he leaps over them, bouncing down the stairwell after his prey. In this, he's fairly quick. It's flat-out running where he's only barely above average.
High-impact transportation is his specialty.
It actually reminds Celene a little of the LAST time she was trying to outrun a homicidal maniac with a sword bigger than she is.
Which was itself a lot like trying to outrun an avalanche or a runaway car, except at the time he was screaming oaths about what precisely where he was going to stick his reproductive organs. This whole silent pursuer thing is creepy, but rather nice compared to that.
Celene hears Caim more than sees him, not even bothering to look back. He's taking the stairs like she does, which means she's losing ground, or at least not gaining any. OK. That's bad, but...
...but when Caim staggers out of the stairwell into a dark, quiet room, illuminated only by the light of a slowly-fading fuse, there's not a bad chance he'll realize just how much shit he's in.
Fireworks and th like are illegal in California without a license. That doesn't mean they're not for sale, or even that they're hard to find - just that possession without a licensed pyrotechnician on hand is not a good thing for your criminal record.
And, alas for Caim, he chose to attack in close proximity to one of the relatively few pyrotechnicians with a healthy supply of product in his back room.
The door to the back room slams, Celene Hunter SPRINTS outside, and roars, "HIT THE DIRT!" before diving for cover herself...
...as the room promptly explodes in an eruption of bang, pow, and kablooie.
There's quite a bit of explosion in there, too.
He can hear her, up ahead. Hear her breath, hear the slap of her feet against the landings. Can smell her cigarette leaving a trail behind her.
So sunk into his battle madness is Caim that as he slams into the dark room, it literally takes him a second or two to realize something's wrong. And by that time it is far too late.
Enveloped in sound and fury, the Pact Warrior would scream if he could, the utter shock and pain bringing him as close to fear as he ever gets.
Once all the explosions have ended, the interior of the room is somewhat more barren than before. Smoke leaks from behind the exterior door, said barrier somewhat loosened on its hinges by the cacophony contained within. And then... it falls.
Standing framed in the doorway, smoke billowing past him and rising from his clothes, hair, skin, is Caim. A few flames still flicker in the cloth of his clothing and in his hair, and his expression is wild beneath the soot and burns, his lips pulled back from his teeth, his breath coming in harsh, shallow pants as he tries to get reoriented.
The calm before the storm.
Celene Hunter -
Celene Hunter looks vaguely Greek. She has short-cropped dishwater blonde hair, dark eyes, and sharp features. Of special note, she habitually wears a pair of blue-silver horn-rimmed spectacles. She stands just slightly above average height, five foot seven or eight maybe. Her build is lithe - she looks like an expert runner or sprinter, with only a little excess muscle, born from extra training. She wears little or no apparent makeup, which only adds to her overall unremarkable appearance.
Celene Hunter is waiting.
She wants this to work. She /needs/ this to work, because if it doesn't she has SO FEW other options, but, if it DOESN'T work - and she knows it WON'T - then she'll have to...
She sighs, bringing an ear up and opening the IPA communication line, and then pulls the cigarette out of her mouth, sliding back the bolt on her rifle as she does so.
...she puts the cigarette in the firing chamber, slides the bolt closed, aims, and somewhere, somewhen, in the distant future, a Legend is told of a mighty deed, as Celene Hunter, Child of the Silver Lady, summons forth her Boons. The rifle fires, and a blue-white lance of radiance streaks out, aimed squarely at Caim.
When it strikes, Caim will know unfathomable pain, as every abrasion, every bruise, every scrape and minor bit of blunt trauma tears itself open and begins to bleed profusely, his very body ripping itself apart from within.
"Please work..." Celene whispers.
THERE
There's his prey.
The Bloody-Handed Prince takes a step forward, his boot smudging soot onto the ground outside the doorway, his lips twitching away from his teeth like a wolf growling in threat. Both of his eyes are wide, his left one a blind, glazed white, the other gleaming and feral. He hasn't drawn his sword again, yet, seemingly forgotten it as his fingers twitch, hooking into claws, as though he intends to leap upon the woman and physically tear her to pieces.
Then she fires.
Expecting another mere bullet, the One-Eyed Man stumbles as pain builds suddenly, searing through his nerves like the fire he so recently walked out of. Blood bursts to the surface, leaking from beneath his hairline, from within his clothes, his nose and mouth, coating his teeth as he howls in silent anguish.
He stumbles forward a step. Two. Falls to one knee, half-bent in a rictus of pain, struggling to stand again. Nearly succeeds. Looses his remaining footing and slams to earth, clawing at the ground in fury and pain, leaving bloody smears as he tries to drag himself towards Celene.
And all without so much as a squeak, though his mouth contorts around the sounds that none shall ever hear.
Celene frowns.
On the one hand...in all technicality she should have this guy cuffed and taken in.
On the other hand, he is probably going to get over this pretty soon, and when he does he'll probably kill everyone he can get his hands on, and Celene would rather not be responsible for deaths that could've been avoided.
But Suen's on the way, and Suen's a Scion, and Suen, more importantly, is way the hell more sturdy than she is, so she's going to just pray Suen gets here before Caim gets back up.
For now, Celene squats down, pulling out her cellphone, sliding it open, and taking a few pictures for use as file photos later.
She doesn't talk to him. He runs on anger. She doesn't want to make him any more annoyed than he already is.
Joseph Suen -
Tall for being Chinese, Joseph's 'towering' 5'8 hardly seems intimidating. His hair is cut fashionably short, or at least as fashionably short a police officer is allowed. His is a lean face with a sharp jaw line and perfectly clean shaven; handsome but not to the point of being 'pretty'. His dark brown eyes are usually intense, as if trying to find that enemy hidden in the dark and attempting to discover that guilty secret everyone has buried in their souls.
When Joseph goes casual, it doesn't tend to stray too far from business casual. Generally, he can be found wearing dark jeans or khakis on his off days along with an untucked button-down of various (but boring) colors and either a white or black undershirt. This is usually highlighted by a pair of worn sneakers or combat boots.
Bursting through the gate with a locater in one hand, Joseph pauses only a moment to get his bearings and put away the locator. Just follow the trail of destruction. If what Hunter is saying about this creature is right, there should be a trail property damage all laid out for him like a damn road map. He continues running, easily side stepping or leaping over debris towards the burning building.
Without even a second thought, he runs straight inside and through. The flames flicker, searing and turning parts of his uniform into charcoal but he remains unscathed nor affected by the building smoke. With a roar to announce his arrival, he bursts through, "HUNTER!"
There is a pause, a heartbeat before he slams attempts to slam a knee against Caim's back and a hand against the back of the crazed man's head in hopes of pinning him down.
Celene Hunter is outside in the street.
Caim is, presumably, lying in the street, trying to close the distance even as his body shrieks in agony.
...and now Suen is attempting to subdue Caim further even as he bleeds.
Celene cycles the bolt on her rifle one more time.
"Suen. That man is not unconscious, and has taken an enormous amount of punishment," she warns, knowing perfectly well she's going to be ignored. "So I'm just going to tell you now that when he kicks your ass for that, it's not my fault. Thanks for your efforts, however."
Even wracked by pain, this man attempts to claw his way across the ground towards his prey, leaving a smear of blood and soot to mark his trail. He can't even see her, can't smell her over the stink of smoke and his own blood. But all he has to do is reach her...
Sudden, fresh pain cracks through the haze like lighting, and Caim jerks as Joseph slams down atop him, more in surprise than anything else. Then years of battle experience and that howling center of rage manage to overwhelm the slowly fading blaze of agony in his limbs. A spell, it had to be a spell. That's all he can think of. But now... now he has a foe that he can touch.
For a moment, he appears cowed, nearly limp under Joseph. Then, with a speed that should literally be impossible for a man that wounded, and would be startling besides for a normal man, Caim lashes upwards, seeking to get a grip on the smaller man atop him. Whether or not he succeeds, he writhes, showing a strength that goes far beyond anything human, and will quite simply slam Celene's reinforcements into the ground, given the chance. He's not as good in bare-handed fighting as with his sword, but sheer brute strength has to amount to something.
Celene Hunter sighs.
"Yeah, see? Like that."
"I'll take your warning to heart Hu-" Joseph's words are cut short as the man beneath him acts. The hand that lashed upwards grabs into his neck and tightens. A gurgle breaks lose as Joseph feels himself getting dislodged and slammed into the ground and the only thing he can think of is that this guy must be stopped.
There is pain but the shock of the blow brings him back into the present and already the chinaman has reached out, hand holding Caim's wrist in a vice like grip and the other one attempting to pry those damn fingers off his neck.
Celene Hunter...watches.
When she's confident that Joseph has Caim thoroughly distracted, she begins to slowly march away, sorting through the pictures she's taken and transmitting a few to the LAPD and IPA crime labs for filing and analysis.
Caim is Joseph's problem until he decides to come after Celene again, whereupon she'll...think of something. Yes.
Caim wastes no time, not even lifting himself from the ground before beating Joseph's head into the ground by that grip on his neck a few times first. Only then does he shove himself to his feet, using the chinaman as a handy prop... then calmly lifts said chinaman off the ground by that same grip, fingers like an iron vice locked on Joseph's neck. Keeps lifting until his feet dangle off the ground by several inches, lips drawn back from a bloody and crazed grin of triumph. Then he quite simply throws his assailant away, aiming roughly towards the building he smashed his way out of not too long ago.
This is starting to get fun. Too bad there's only one of them...
The back of Joseph's unprotected head slams into the cement several times, the ground beneath cracking and forming a small crater but he is still alive, still breathing and good god did that hurt but he can move. As Caim presses downwards, he has moved both hands now to the man's wrist, gripping tightening before he suddenly feelings himself being drawn up and comes face to face with Caim and that grin does not sit well with him.
He finds himself tossed away like a rag doll, slamming back first into demolished rubble. There's a cloud, a small explosion what's left standing crumbles but Joseph Suen is the child of a God and it'll take more than just some throwing around to knock him out. He steps forward quietly and draws the 'knife' that has somehow remained unscathed in his boots before rushing towards Caim's back, blade held at his side and aiming for something vital, but not too vital.
Celene Hunter...wanders off down the street, fiddling with her phone the whole while.
Specifically, she is heading over toward a clump of parked cars!
Caim and Joseph probably won't notice whatever she does over there, given they're busy making friends.
Oh good, he's still moving.
And he just drew a weapon. Excellent.
Caim doesn't hesitate in the slightest as Joseph rushes back towards him, whipping his sword from the sheath across his hips, roughly four feet of brutal, black steel whipped up, not in a guard, but instead in a ruthless assault. He can take a hit from a knife like that, no trouble. And he has absolutely no compunction about killing the man before him.
For all Caim is a skilled warrior, he is best at home in the middle of a grand melee, where no matter where he swings he's bound to hit something. So, if Joseph proves himself nimble, he'll be able to avoid becoming halved as the Pact Warrior whips his blade around in great, scything arcs, both hands on the hilt and killing intent behind every strike.
And while he remembers Celene, and fully intends on finding her and mauling her severely for her affronts against him, he has something a little more immediate to deal with. He'll get to her later.
Caim is about to be in for a little surprise. As soon as the knife hits flesh, there is a ripping sound and suddenly it's not even a knife anymore but a good five feet of sword being held by two hands. Blood runs down the silver blade and Joseph pulls back quickly. The black steel cuts through flesh the first time, slicing through stomach muscles and leaving a trail of burning pain in it's wake. He winces as he rumbles something into his radio.
The second time Caim's sword comes around, he is ready and sparks fly as the heavier broadsword meets the slender God Forged steel. "Come on then! Let's dance!" He shouts into Caim's face as he parry's blow after blow. Being shorter, Joseph realizes that he does not nearly have the arm range so he rushes in close, blade dancing.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech
"stupid rassin'frassin'" KICK!!
Rollrollroll
"Better. Damn parking brakes."
There's a few moments of silence, during which Caim and Joseph no doubt GRAPPLE FOR ULTIMATE SUPREMACY...and at the end of which, Celene Hunter steps up next to the melee, says, "Suen, get down," before she hefts and SWINGS a (severely used) Dodge Stratus at Caim like lesser people might swing a mace.
Celene does not sass Caim's retreating form until she is sure his form is in fact retreating, and not coming at her with stabbings.
As soon as Celene makes her announcement, Joseph Suen does exactly as he is told and drops flat to the ground.
Caim has time to blink as his opponent suddenly drops to the ground in the middle of what was shaping up to be a truly marvelous sword duel. However, the reason for this becomes quite evident as he looks back up.
*WHANG*
To give Celene's arm credit, the swordsman goes flying, impacts the wall of a nearby building, then impacts the other wall of the same building, and keeps going, leaving a nice hole all the way through.
Oh, he's going to /hurt/ when he wakes up from this one...
Celene Hunter watches for a moment, then gently sets the car back down.
"So," she says, simply, "that was maybe a little harder than I expected."
She reaches down to her pockets, pulling out her cigarettes and lighter, lighting up in short order. She puts them away thereafter, sticking her hands in her pockets. She turns toward where she left her bike, waving over her shoulder at Suen. "I'm going to go home and see how high I can get my blood alcohol level. I'll see you tomorrow."
WHERE: Paranormal Sector, The Scion World (Los Angeles)
WHEN: September 11
WHAT: Caim gets lost in the Gates, ends up in LA. Wackiness ensues (and property damage)
WATCH FOR: Those poor cars, and Celene not caring about her cohort's suffering.
Los Angeles, California, The World -
One of the greatest metropolitan centers of the modern age, Los Angeles is a teeming city full of life and culture. From Chinatown to the Westside, there is something for every imaginable person somewhere in Los Angeles.
Including those who most don't even realize exist. Los Angeles is home to almost as many denizens of the Overworld as it is home to humans. Aztec Scions carve out turf among the inner-city gangs, while the inheritors of the Legend of Egypt and the children of the Loa maintain the power of law within the city and within individual communities. The Greeks and Norse do as they always do - fighting and dying in epic conflicts, raising up humanity by their actions, and crushing the enemies of the world. And all the while, titanspawn lurk in the shadows, silently corrupting the City of Angels from within...
Caim transmits the sounds of a bit of a scuffle. Then silence. Then the sound of someone tapping curiously at the housing of a radio. *TAPTAPTAP*
Han Su Li says, "Hey!"
Caim continues tapping arhythmically for a bit, then shakes the radio in irritation.
Celene Hunter puff. "Miiiight be an animal. Anyone there?"
Han Su Li says, "Hard to tell."
Caim finally gives in to frustration and smashes the radio against something. Probably a Buick, judging by the sound of breaking glass and a car alarm before the poor little handset gives out into static.
Celene Hunter says, "..."
Peleps Kaizoku Seki loudly, "OFF SWITCH!"
Peleps Kaizoku Seki says, "NOT HARD."
Peleps Kaizoku Seki says, "Yeesh."
Effulgent Autem Wayfarer says, "Percussive use of the device will impair its functioning."
Ryusei Date says, "... Uh..."
It had taken time and effort to track his quarry after he'd lost her. The trail had led to a curious bit of architecture. That strange portal had led to... unimaginable things.
After a brief, confusing tour of the Hub, he'd found his way back through one of those odd structures. He had no idea if it was the same one.
Or rather, he didn't until he'd stepped through it. This... was not his world. Not in the slightest. Wanting to know what was going on, it had been a trivial thing to relieve a local of what was apparently a means of collecting information. Though whatever "Bears are in the finals" meant was beyond him. A bit of fiddling got new voices, but nothing of use. And so the handset was left buried in the hood of a nearby car, said vehicle shrieking its displeasure to the surrounding neighborhood as the One-Eyed Man wandered off.
Though he was obviously not dressed in the current fashions (how many people on the street carried swords, in this day and age?) he remained unmolested. Probably due to some innate survival instinct still present in humanity. Also probably because he spent most of his time in back alleys, away from the confusing noise and lights of the main streets. And then... and then the taxi had startled him. He hadn't even thought about his reaction, was moving even before the sound of the horn had really registered. Suddenly, the alley that particular poor fool of a driver had chosen to try and take a shortcut through spat out the shredded remains of the vehicle, the hood caved in, the passenger compartment torn open and one door sailing high overhead in a graceful arc.
As little as this world knows how to deal with Caim, he knows even less how to deal with it.
How many carry swords?
More than most would think. The Children of the Gods inhabit this world Caim has found himself in, and those mighty Scions often find melee weapons to be the more effective form of defeating their powerful foes.
But some of them are not so fortunate, and one such hero of the world is Celene Hunter, sniper for the LAPD SWAT team.
The order was pretty simple. Caim broke his radio, and Celene, a routine for her by now, cast the spell of the Unlidded Eye, gazing upon Fate with eyes unhindered by the blinders placed upon mortal eyes...and immediately knew she was in pretty deep shit. She's not sure what it is that's signaling her, what exactly is out there now, but she knows two things:
It is enormously powerful...and it is very, /very/ angry.
Which is why Celene is where she is now, on her motorcycle, making for Caim's location at top speed, her Remington already slung over her shoulder, her bike's police lights and siren blaring, while a couple police cruisers likewise approach. Silently slipping between two cars, Celene mutters a prayer to Hades, knowing perfectly well that the odds are good that these men will not survive the next ten minutes.
Luckily for the surrounding population, when confronted with stimuli such as these, the common reaction is to RUN LIKE HELL.
Indeed, as the local populace flees the site of that poor taxicab's mauling, a man steps out of the alley after it. He's dressed oddly, looks like he hasn't slept indoor in several months, and is holding an obviously well-used two-handed broadsword down at his side, frowning in confused irritation. The sounds of approaching sirens only comes across as meaningless noise for the One-Eyed Man, at first. Indeed, he steps out to poke at the wreckage he so recently created, first shoving at the car with a foot, then jabbing it a couple times with the point of his sword, marring the bodywork but not really contributing any further to its mangled state.
And then the cavalry arrives.
Caim's head whips up as the police cruisers pull up nearby, lights and sirens blazing, and his lips draw back from his teeth in a silent snarl. He doesn't even really comprehend that these are simply vehicles, thinking them some odd form of automata or golem. Of course, the people jumping out of them and pointing things at him draw some confusion, but...
Good eye narrowed in anger, Caim brings his sword up, holding it off to one side with both hands on the hilt, glaring with open threat towards the police officers. Even without words, there is something in his posture, in the very air around the man that states that he will kill these people without remorse, guilt, or even hesitation. Just give him a reason.
Celene is already analyzing the situation as people start reporting. None dead - that they can tell, anyway. One seriously injured cab driver, one /totaled/ taxi, and a bunch of terrified people...they the rest of SWAT is called in to deal with riot control and the CAUSE, which is...
...one guy.
"One man!?" Celene barks into her helmet-equipped radio.
"Yes, ma'am! One man. He's got a sword. He looks very angry!"
Pause. Celene can't tell them to just open fire, but she wants to. She's pretty sure whoever gives Caim the warning is going to die, but as the sniper, she can't give that warning herself, and...agh. She wishes Leon were here.
"Fine. Carry on as normal!" she calls, veering off down a side street. "I'm going to set up a sniping position! Give me...five minutes!"
The police on site eye Caim warily. Hunter's nervous. Hunter knows this shit better than they do. Fuck. Finally, though, someone takes the initiative, pulling out his car radio and switching it to speak out of the loudspeaker in his vehicle.
"Attention!" the young man calls. "This is the Police! You are causing a violent disturbance! Please drop your weapon and put your hands up!"
Maybe that'll work. Maybe he just doesn't't realize he's causing a problem! Yeah!
Causing a disturbance? Him? Naw.
Caim actually looks vaguely insulted when the trooper orders him to stand down. What the hell is this? They don't even bother shooting first? What kind of weak... bah, screw it. This was getting him nowhere.
Instead of complying, Caim rises from his ready stance, letting his sword hang in one hand as he starts walking towards the nearest police cruiser. Not running, but not dawdling. The thunderous scowl on his face hints that he's a mite displeased, however.
Even should he come under fire, the man does not slow. Indeed, being shot would just send him into a frenzy, closing the distance all the faster. However he reaches it, though, when Caim gets within reach of the squad car in question, he quite simply rears back with one fist and PUNCHES the thing right in the hood. This does not result in a set of broken knuckles and a dented hood, however. The result is far more spectacular than that. Much like someone had slammed a sledgehammer into the hood of the car, really. There's enough force involved to actually lift the rear end of the car slightly from the ground before it jars back to earth, the One-Eyed Man ripping his gauntleted fist out of the hole in the hood the reclaim his grip on his sword and snarl silently at the nearby officers.
Challenge issued. If they try to run, he'll kill them like the cowards they are. If they fight... eh, they're probably die anyway. All the same to him.
... ... ...
"Ma'am?"
"BUSY."
"He just punched the car and it broke and I think he's going to punch me next and it's my baby's birthday tomorrow and"
" ... ... right. Don't move. He might track based on motion. ...and try not to sweat. He might be able to smell your fear."
It's days like these that Celene Hunter does not earn brownie points within her organization.
But she's good at what she does, which is protect people from dying when folks like Caim get all up in their grills. Which is why the officer, quivering and terrified...stands his ground, stares Caim right in the eye, stare, stare, stare, oh god oh god "OH GOD HE'S GONNA KILL US"
And thus it is that Private Manuel Gomez, father of two, a proud member of the Los Angeles Police Department, for the first time staring death right in the eyes...caves, as so many men have before him, and moves to flee--
--at exactly the same time as a motorcycle comes SCREAMING over the top of a nearby shop, and the sound of a bolt being cocked can be heard, and the thunderous report of a rifle going off, and unless Caim is very fast he will find another thing to distract him, that being a bullet lodged in his shoulder.
The motorcycle lands, circles for a moment, and then skids to a halt, and its driver rips off her helmet, revealing blonde hair and green eyes and a deadly serious expression, a dark gaze peering over blue-rimmed glasses.
"Hey, sparky," says Celene Hunter, already imbued with the blessings of Fate. "Over here."
Caim is all set to chase the poor coward whose nerve failed. His legs begin to tighten as he draws in, lips pulling into an expression that bares some passing resemblance to a lunatic grin, his fingers tightening on his sword hilt...
And then the Hunter arrives.
The noise of the shot doesn't make Caim pause in the slightest, but the bullet slamming into his shoulder gets his attention, knocking him off balance and whipping his attention around to the newest arrival, mouth open in what would be a howl of pain and fury. But there is no sound, not even a rasp of breath.
Of course, that's when Caim achieves lock and launches, leaping over the hood of the car that he so recently caved in and charging towards Celene with all the finesse and delicate maneuvering of a freight train with faulty brakes, his sword raised to the attack, all sense and hesitation suddenly gone from his mismatched gaze.
Someone attacked him, it is time for battle.
Celene watches for about two seconds. "Strong. I bet if that sword hits me it'll cut me right in two, right? And you're a sprinter...but you don't have the muscles of someone who can move agilely." Celene calmly, controlled, with eminently careful motions, stands up, hangs her helmet on the handlebar of her bike, and then steps away just a little, so that Caim isn't going to cut her bike in half, because it's a nice bike. "You're also completely silent...some kind of unnatural ability, am I right?"
The sword is coming.
Celene back flips, coming down in a hand stand balanced on her Remington, and then whips back up and away, narrowly evading complete murder. Caim will have to try much harder than that. She pushes off, bounding away from the ground, and in mid-flight, there's the kchnk KCHAK of her rifle's bolt cycling, and then the KABLAM of another round heading for Caim's chest, and then the tp tp of Celene's feet hitting the ground.
She reaches into one pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, and bringing it up to her lips. "You're kind of clumsy, too," she remarks.
He's very fast. Not fast enough that Celene expects to get hit too many times, in a fight like this - not with her powers, not with her speed. But even just that one lucky hit could be...
She needs to get him away from people he can target, and then get out of his targeting range herself. In that order. God she hates tanking.
The trouble with attempting to string Caim along has always, always been staying out of his reach. And... this can be harder than it sounds.
Caim's blade rips through the air along a path that would have left Celene in two smaller pieces had it connected, the warrior following through with the ease and odd grace of long practice. Though he never was and never will be a lithe and flowing fencer, there is a certain flow to Caim's movements. He's done this for a long time, with many weapons, in many environments, to many people. He knows what he is doing on a nearly instinctual level, the howling fury within him merely serving as impetus.
Even as his first strike cleaves only air, the warrior continues to charge, following Celene as quickly as he can. Nonetheless, the next bullet catches him square in the chest, breaking his stride and making him stagger, nearly falling to the side as his leg comes down at the wrong angle, his balance thrown off. But... he doesn't look like he's going down. Or even particularly in pain. Just... I think you pissed it off, Celene.
Suddenly, there is a roar that voices all the rage that the warrior cannot speak aloud. The roar of flames, fire leaping up around Caim before blasting out towards the sniper, thrown as a trio of fireballs with a rending gesture of one hand, each roughly the size of a man. They don't seek their target, but whatever they hit will certainly notice.
Celene's already thinking. His voice is unnaturally silent. Why? Was it a price for some power he wields? Was he just born without vocal chords? Did Fate just punch him in the tonsils when he was a kid? Options, options, and no time to debate them...
...because he's THROWING FIREBALLS.
"Well," Celene says, cool and professional, "That, I was not expecting." And then she's moving. They don't track her, so hitting her is hard. And Caim has now demonstrated that she will need to get CREATIVE to stay out of his way, and that means...
The world sings as a Legend is told, and Celene turns to one side, saying nothing except "Not today!" before BOUNDING away - leaping up, up, up, impossibly high, INHUMANLY high, up and over the front of a nearby building, traveling several stories higher than she would need to before coming down. He can't hit her; and no matter how many times she hits him, he won't go down.
This is about par for the course for Celene.
Celene's rifle goes kchnk kCHAK. She doesn't fire again, just preparing to do so, getting ready...when she sees how he reacts to this, she'll know if she's in a good position to lure him away from this area, while the police clear the street out, so that Celene can do this properly. She'll need a higher-power assault to take a man like this down...and she might just have the thing. IF she can lure him there.
Those from Caim's world know of the arcane bonding that is a Pact, the merging of two souls to strengthen both participants. And the price that goes with that power. Always something important, something that cannot be replaced. Some lose something physical, some things less tangible. Caim gave his voice for his life.
Thundering to a halt at the foot of the building that Celene just leapt to the top of, Caim stares upwards, eyes wide in mingled surprise and frustrated fury. How DARE she just... run from him? Lips drawn back from his teeth, the man's jaw opens in what would be a howl, the intricate black sigil on his tongue perhaps visible for a moment as he gives in to base instinct, uncaring that his rage will not reach her through that path.
His one good eye whips back and forth. A building like this /has/ to have a way to get to the roof. Even a weird place like this can't ignore that, can it? So...
A ground-level door is kicked in with enough force to send it hurtling into the stairwell, and Caim begins charging upwards. The thought of leaving while he had the chance never even entered his mind. A challenge has been given, and must be answered.
Celene will be sure to ask someone about it in the future.
For now, she has an angry sword-wielding magician after her.
When Caim busts down the door, Celene looks over - spots the point where he'll have to enter the roof from - and then simply takes off at a jog (Caim wouldn't be able to keep up if she were sprinting. Some /cars/ wouldn't be able to keep up if she were sprinting...) toward the edge of the roof, bounding over the next building and on to another storefront roof nearby.
And when the door opens, and Caim comes out, she fires again, to get his attention.
Just got to get him to FOLLOW, now, and...well, she's already got that.
One thing about Caim. He doesn't tire. In his headlong charge up the stairs to the roof, he doesn't take breaks, and still has enough breath in him to repeat his performance from ground level. Namely, the door doesn't open so much as go flying across the roof as a booted foot slams into it, tearing it free from its hinges with a shriek of distressed metal, the door itself fairly badly buckled as well. And then there is Caim, leaping out onto the roof in search of his adversary. The *CRACK* of the rifle and the feel of another bullet punching into him whips Caim around like a compass needle to a magnet, and he charges headlong towards Celene, not even slowing down as he hits the edge of the building. And his increased strength makes the leap across the gap easier than any mere human could ever hope.
How long do you intend to lead him on this wild goose chase, Hunter? For he doesn't seem to be slowing down in the slightest.
Until he /DOES/ slow down!
More specifically, Celene is completely cognizant of the fact that she is faster than Caim, but that Caim won't fall until probably /after/ she's run out of bullets. She needs to either soften him up or eject him from the area entirely. She doesn't want to waste her trump cards until she's sure it'll work, and that means...
...well, that means running him ragged. She shoulders her rifle, flips her lighter out of her pocket, and takes off running away from Caim, lighting up the cigarette still hanging from her lips as she goes. There's a reason for that, which Caim might just find out later.
For now, Celene bounds across a few more rooftops, leading AWAY, but away to WHERE, ah, that's the question...except suddenly she stops, looks back to make sure Caim's still back there (WAY too close for comfort) and then she shoulders her way into another building's rooftop access, quickly bounding down the stairs, jumping over entire flights as she goes.
She is going to get in so much trouble for this, but...hey, if it works...!
It's probably a lot like outrunning a runaway car. Or an avalanche. Every time you look back, there it is, still charging along. Still intent on grinding you to sticky paste beneath it.
Soon after Celene starts her descent, Caim crashes into the stairwell, nearly tearing this door from its hinges as well. A skid of bootsoles against the stairway landing as he glares down over the railing, then the maniac finally sheathes his sword, grabs the railing in both hands and leaps over, taking the quickest way down, floor by floor. He can't just drop straight down, sadly, there's stuff in the way. But he was considering it. Instead, there's a steady thud, thud, thud as Caim's boots slam into each landing, completely ignoring the stairs as he leaps over them, bouncing down the stairwell after his prey. In this, he's fairly quick. It's flat-out running where he's only barely above average.
High-impact transportation is his specialty.
It actually reminds Celene a little of the LAST time she was trying to outrun a homicidal maniac with a sword bigger than she is.
Which was itself a lot like trying to outrun an avalanche or a runaway car, except at the time he was screaming oaths about what precisely where he was going to stick his reproductive organs. This whole silent pursuer thing is creepy, but rather nice compared to that.
Celene hears Caim more than sees him, not even bothering to look back. He's taking the stairs like she does, which means she's losing ground, or at least not gaining any. OK. That's bad, but...
...but when Caim staggers out of the stairwell into a dark, quiet room, illuminated only by the light of a slowly-fading fuse, there's not a bad chance he'll realize just how much shit he's in.
Fireworks and th like are illegal in California without a license. That doesn't mean they're not for sale, or even that they're hard to find - just that possession without a licensed pyrotechnician on hand is not a good thing for your criminal record.
And, alas for Caim, he chose to attack in close proximity to one of the relatively few pyrotechnicians with a healthy supply of product in his back room.
The door to the back room slams, Celene Hunter SPRINTS outside, and roars, "HIT THE DIRT!" before diving for cover herself...
...as the room promptly explodes in an eruption of bang, pow, and kablooie.
There's quite a bit of explosion in there, too.
He can hear her, up ahead. Hear her breath, hear the slap of her feet against the landings. Can smell her cigarette leaving a trail behind her.
So sunk into his battle madness is Caim that as he slams into the dark room, it literally takes him a second or two to realize something's wrong. And by that time it is far too late.
Enveloped in sound and fury, the Pact Warrior would scream if he could, the utter shock and pain bringing him as close to fear as he ever gets.
Once all the explosions have ended, the interior of the room is somewhat more barren than before. Smoke leaks from behind the exterior door, said barrier somewhat loosened on its hinges by the cacophony contained within. And then... it falls.
Standing framed in the doorway, smoke billowing past him and rising from his clothes, hair, skin, is Caim. A few flames still flicker in the cloth of his clothing and in his hair, and his expression is wild beneath the soot and burns, his lips pulled back from his teeth, his breath coming in harsh, shallow pants as he tries to get reoriented.
The calm before the storm.
Celene Hunter -
Celene Hunter looks vaguely Greek. She has short-cropped dishwater blonde hair, dark eyes, and sharp features. Of special note, she habitually wears a pair of blue-silver horn-rimmed spectacles. She stands just slightly above average height, five foot seven or eight maybe. Her build is lithe - she looks like an expert runner or sprinter, with only a little excess muscle, born from extra training. She wears little or no apparent makeup, which only adds to her overall unremarkable appearance.
Celene Hunter is waiting.
She wants this to work. She /needs/ this to work, because if it doesn't she has SO FEW other options, but, if it DOESN'T work - and she knows it WON'T - then she'll have to...
She sighs, bringing an ear up and opening the IPA communication line, and then pulls the cigarette out of her mouth, sliding back the bolt on her rifle as she does so.
...she puts the cigarette in the firing chamber, slides the bolt closed, aims, and somewhere, somewhen, in the distant future, a Legend is told of a mighty deed, as Celene Hunter, Child of the Silver Lady, summons forth her Boons. The rifle fires, and a blue-white lance of radiance streaks out, aimed squarely at Caim.
When it strikes, Caim will know unfathomable pain, as every abrasion, every bruise, every scrape and minor bit of blunt trauma tears itself open and begins to bleed profusely, his very body ripping itself apart from within.
"Please work..." Celene whispers.
THERE
There's his prey.
The Bloody-Handed Prince takes a step forward, his boot smudging soot onto the ground outside the doorway, his lips twitching away from his teeth like a wolf growling in threat. Both of his eyes are wide, his left one a blind, glazed white, the other gleaming and feral. He hasn't drawn his sword again, yet, seemingly forgotten it as his fingers twitch, hooking into claws, as though he intends to leap upon the woman and physically tear her to pieces.
Then she fires.
Expecting another mere bullet, the One-Eyed Man stumbles as pain builds suddenly, searing through his nerves like the fire he so recently walked out of. Blood bursts to the surface, leaking from beneath his hairline, from within his clothes, his nose and mouth, coating his teeth as he howls in silent anguish.
He stumbles forward a step. Two. Falls to one knee, half-bent in a rictus of pain, struggling to stand again. Nearly succeeds. Looses his remaining footing and slams to earth, clawing at the ground in fury and pain, leaving bloody smears as he tries to drag himself towards Celene.
And all without so much as a squeak, though his mouth contorts around the sounds that none shall ever hear.
Celene frowns.
On the one hand...in all technicality she should have this guy cuffed and taken in.
On the other hand, he is probably going to get over this pretty soon, and when he does he'll probably kill everyone he can get his hands on, and Celene would rather not be responsible for deaths that could've been avoided.
But Suen's on the way, and Suen's a Scion, and Suen, more importantly, is way the hell more sturdy than she is, so she's going to just pray Suen gets here before Caim gets back up.
For now, Celene squats down, pulling out her cellphone, sliding it open, and taking a few pictures for use as file photos later.
She doesn't talk to him. He runs on anger. She doesn't want to make him any more annoyed than he already is.
Joseph Suen -
Tall for being Chinese, Joseph's 'towering' 5'8 hardly seems intimidating. His hair is cut fashionably short, or at least as fashionably short a police officer is allowed. His is a lean face with a sharp jaw line and perfectly clean shaven; handsome but not to the point of being 'pretty'. His dark brown eyes are usually intense, as if trying to find that enemy hidden in the dark and attempting to discover that guilty secret everyone has buried in their souls.
When Joseph goes casual, it doesn't tend to stray too far from business casual. Generally, he can be found wearing dark jeans or khakis on his off days along with an untucked button-down of various (but boring) colors and either a white or black undershirt. This is usually highlighted by a pair of worn sneakers or combat boots.
Bursting through the gate with a locater in one hand, Joseph pauses only a moment to get his bearings and put away the locator. Just follow the trail of destruction. If what Hunter is saying about this creature is right, there should be a trail property damage all laid out for him like a damn road map. He continues running, easily side stepping or leaping over debris towards the burning building.
Without even a second thought, he runs straight inside and through. The flames flicker, searing and turning parts of his uniform into charcoal but he remains unscathed nor affected by the building smoke. With a roar to announce his arrival, he bursts through, "HUNTER!"
There is a pause, a heartbeat before he slams attempts to slam a knee against Caim's back and a hand against the back of the crazed man's head in hopes of pinning him down.
Celene Hunter is outside in the street.
Caim is, presumably, lying in the street, trying to close the distance even as his body shrieks in agony.
...and now Suen is attempting to subdue Caim further even as he bleeds.
Celene cycles the bolt on her rifle one more time.
"Suen. That man is not unconscious, and has taken an enormous amount of punishment," she warns, knowing perfectly well she's going to be ignored. "So I'm just going to tell you now that when he kicks your ass for that, it's not my fault. Thanks for your efforts, however."
Even wracked by pain, this man attempts to claw his way across the ground towards his prey, leaving a smear of blood and soot to mark his trail. He can't even see her, can't smell her over the stink of smoke and his own blood. But all he has to do is reach her...
Sudden, fresh pain cracks through the haze like lighting, and Caim jerks as Joseph slams down atop him, more in surprise than anything else. Then years of battle experience and that howling center of rage manage to overwhelm the slowly fading blaze of agony in his limbs. A spell, it had to be a spell. That's all he can think of. But now... now he has a foe that he can touch.
For a moment, he appears cowed, nearly limp under Joseph. Then, with a speed that should literally be impossible for a man that wounded, and would be startling besides for a normal man, Caim lashes upwards, seeking to get a grip on the smaller man atop him. Whether or not he succeeds, he writhes, showing a strength that goes far beyond anything human, and will quite simply slam Celene's reinforcements into the ground, given the chance. He's not as good in bare-handed fighting as with his sword, but sheer brute strength has to amount to something.
Celene Hunter sighs.
"Yeah, see? Like that."
"I'll take your warning to heart Hu-" Joseph's words are cut short as the man beneath him acts. The hand that lashed upwards grabs into his neck and tightens. A gurgle breaks lose as Joseph feels himself getting dislodged and slammed into the ground and the only thing he can think of is that this guy must be stopped.
There is pain but the shock of the blow brings him back into the present and already the chinaman has reached out, hand holding Caim's wrist in a vice like grip and the other one attempting to pry those damn fingers off his neck.
Celene Hunter...watches.
When she's confident that Joseph has Caim thoroughly distracted, she begins to slowly march away, sorting through the pictures she's taken and transmitting a few to the LAPD and IPA crime labs for filing and analysis.
Caim is Joseph's problem until he decides to come after Celene again, whereupon she'll...think of something. Yes.
Caim wastes no time, not even lifting himself from the ground before beating Joseph's head into the ground by that grip on his neck a few times first. Only then does he shove himself to his feet, using the chinaman as a handy prop... then calmly lifts said chinaman off the ground by that same grip, fingers like an iron vice locked on Joseph's neck. Keeps lifting until his feet dangle off the ground by several inches, lips drawn back from a bloody and crazed grin of triumph. Then he quite simply throws his assailant away, aiming roughly towards the building he smashed his way out of not too long ago.
This is starting to get fun. Too bad there's only one of them...
The back of Joseph's unprotected head slams into the cement several times, the ground beneath cracking and forming a small crater but he is still alive, still breathing and good god did that hurt but he can move. As Caim presses downwards, he has moved both hands now to the man's wrist, gripping tightening before he suddenly feelings himself being drawn up and comes face to face with Caim and that grin does not sit well with him.
He finds himself tossed away like a rag doll, slamming back first into demolished rubble. There's a cloud, a small explosion what's left standing crumbles but Joseph Suen is the child of a God and it'll take more than just some throwing around to knock him out. He steps forward quietly and draws the 'knife' that has somehow remained unscathed in his boots before rushing towards Caim's back, blade held at his side and aiming for something vital, but not too vital.
Celene Hunter...wanders off down the street, fiddling with her phone the whole while.
Specifically, she is heading over toward a clump of parked cars!
Caim and Joseph probably won't notice whatever she does over there, given they're busy making friends.
Oh good, he's still moving.
And he just drew a weapon. Excellent.
Caim doesn't hesitate in the slightest as Joseph rushes back towards him, whipping his sword from the sheath across his hips, roughly four feet of brutal, black steel whipped up, not in a guard, but instead in a ruthless assault. He can take a hit from a knife like that, no trouble. And he has absolutely no compunction about killing the man before him.
For all Caim is a skilled warrior, he is best at home in the middle of a grand melee, where no matter where he swings he's bound to hit something. So, if Joseph proves himself nimble, he'll be able to avoid becoming halved as the Pact Warrior whips his blade around in great, scything arcs, both hands on the hilt and killing intent behind every strike.
And while he remembers Celene, and fully intends on finding her and mauling her severely for her affronts against him, he has something a little more immediate to deal with. He'll get to her later.
Caim is about to be in for a little surprise. As soon as the knife hits flesh, there is a ripping sound and suddenly it's not even a knife anymore but a good five feet of sword being held by two hands. Blood runs down the silver blade and Joseph pulls back quickly. The black steel cuts through flesh the first time, slicing through stomach muscles and leaving a trail of burning pain in it's wake. He winces as he rumbles something into his radio.
The second time Caim's sword comes around, he is ready and sparks fly as the heavier broadsword meets the slender God Forged steel. "Come on then! Let's dance!" He shouts into Caim's face as he parry's blow after blow. Being shorter, Joseph realizes that he does not nearly have the arm range so he rushes in close, blade dancing.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech
"stupid rassin'frassin'" KICK!!
Rollrollroll
"Better. Damn parking brakes."
There's a few moments of silence, during which Caim and Joseph no doubt GRAPPLE FOR ULTIMATE SUPREMACY...and at the end of which, Celene Hunter steps up next to the melee, says, "Suen, get down," before she hefts and SWINGS a (severely used) Dodge Stratus at Caim like lesser people might swing a mace.
Celene does not sass Caim's retreating form until she is sure his form is in fact retreating, and not coming at her with stabbings.
As soon as Celene makes her announcement, Joseph Suen does exactly as he is told and drops flat to the ground.
Caim has time to blink as his opponent suddenly drops to the ground in the middle of what was shaping up to be a truly marvelous sword duel. However, the reason for this becomes quite evident as he looks back up.
*WHANG*
To give Celene's arm credit, the swordsman goes flying, impacts the wall of a nearby building, then impacts the other wall of the same building, and keeps going, leaving a nice hole all the way through.
Oh, he's going to /hurt/ when he wakes up from this one...
Celene Hunter watches for a moment, then gently sets the car back down.
"So," she says, simply, "that was maybe a little harder than I expected."
She reaches down to her pockets, pulling out her cigarettes and lighter, lighting up in short order. She puts them away thereafter, sticking her hands in her pockets. She turns toward where she left her bike, waving over her shoulder at Suen. "I'm going to go home and see how high I can get my blood alcohol level. I'll see you tomorrow."