Lanister ran.
He ran far, he ran fast, he ran until his lungs burned. As he gasped for air, he turned towards the smoke column in the distance, rising to the sky. His home was gone...again. There was nothing here for him now. The best thing he could do, was keep moving, until he reached the safety of Haven City...and even then, it wasn't safe. He was an exile, an outcast, and now? He was being hunted. What if he brought that danger back to Haven City? There were many thoughts, many fears, to the point his blood ran cold and he almost froze, but the vision he saw burned brightly in his head, and gave him the prompt to push forward, the undergrowth crunching beneath his feet..
He'd have to get back to Haven and warn them of what was coming- He touched the flat surface where his horn once resided and flinched, feeling his body lock up, before slowly getting back to running. Haven was a distance away, and it would take him a day or two to get there by land- the thick forests and impassible mountain of his adopted home city made foot travel difficult.. It would not be easy, and he once more longed to take to the skies above and kiss the winds, but he would not allow himself to wallow in self pity. Tying the book to his back, unaware of the tracking device planted there, Lanister set off for the one place he called home.
Haven City.
____
Caleb landed with a soft thud next to Azrael as he assessed the damage. There were signs of damage and small vehicles upturned, as well...as bodies. Caleb was obviously unsettled by it, as it brought back memories of the civil war, though the comforting hand from Azrael did much to relax his concerns. Out of everyone there, Azrael was one of the few that actually tried to comfort him and saw from his point of few. He'd give the elder leader a grateful smile. Bloody Moon and Scarlet Jackel's always seemed to have a pretty close relationship, primarily from their position of keeping the city safe from external and internal threats, so there was mutual respect.
Caleb wouldn't lie- he almost initially went to Scarlet Jackel's for aide during the civil war, but rationalized that their position meant if they expended manpower to aid in their own civil conflict, their defenses would be weakened. It was something he couldn't afford.
He then heard the yapping of the Kitsune and blinked lightly, for the first time unphased by someone yelling at him- This was because he was used to Kitsune, they both came from a shared homeland. Back in the day, Kitsune were known to be the powers pulling the strings behind certain warlords and families, serving as concubines in some cases, so he honestly wouldn't be surprised if she was something similar, though as soon as he began to reply, they ran off. This caused Caleb to give a droll look- Yup, Kitsune had NOT changed in the last two hundred years, that much he could at least ascertain.
Flightly, Short Sighted, Excitable, and ALWAYS a headache.
Before he could run off to try and ease the situation that was clearly escalating, Caleb's eyes would be drawn to the sight of civilians running from a small group of ferals. Diving away from Azrael, he would dart underneath on, it suddenly stopping, before jumping over a second, sliding under a third, and juking around the forth. To anyone without the eyes to see, it would seem he was just dancing around, but there was a glint in the air- the sight of metal string as Caleb's hand shone, before he would stand up and hold up his hand a mournful look on his face.
"
Find Absolution in Oblivion, Brothers and Sisters..."
With a flick downward, the demons were quickly dismembered and/or beheaded, killing most instantly, and ensuring the death of those that would remain. It was at this moment that it was made clear- Caleb wasn't weak. He was not the military strategist that Lanister was, nor was he the powerhouse that Felicity was, but what Caleb lacked in pure strength, he made up for in his quickness to adapt, and his willingness to learn. He didn't defeat Lanister by being weak, and from how he fought, it was clear that his methods were not meant to revel in battle and bloodshed. They were quick, surgical, and effective.
_____
Aliado quickly made his way to the breach, the smoke landing down with a thud as he stood, gazing at the destruction that the ferals were caused, giving a huff as he saw some of the Clansmen trying to fight back against them. Pulling his facemask up and straightening his hat, he began to rush forward, before feeling a bump. Looking down, he noticed the form of a Kitsune beneath him, giving him and embarrassed smile. Aliado would help her up, though it had been years since he'd seen an actual kitsune. "The hell is a Nadeshiko doing 'ere? You alright?" He asked. He heard that was what you called a Jap as a compliment, though he didn't understand what it meant.
Humans were fucking confusing. One could be talking about the weather and dessert, the other was putting steak and kidney in a pie, while a third was living as a person without modern inconvenience in an increasingly materialistic world. It made no sense to him.
As he was doing this however, a Feral had leapt from a nearby roof and was roaring. Without missing a beat, Aliado would throw up his cloak as, from the smoke from the cars and his own body, a chain would appear and wrap around the Feral's throat. Wrapping his leg around the chain with an odd amount of dexterity, not falling over at all, he yanked it over, causing the creature to fly above him. Aliado would just lift up La Negra and fire without glancing, the bullet perforating its skull and causing it to fall over dead. Many found it odd that a DEMON used firearms, when magic and swords were an option, but Aliado loved the feel of recoil and the smell of gunpowder.
Two more Demons started running over from opposite sides, as Aliado would holster his guns. Reaching into the smoke, he summoned an old fashion Trench Gun- a Winchester Model 1897, one of his personal favorites. Waiting for the demons to get STUPIDLY close, but from her angle, Chartreux could see that fire in his eye, the one that never died- The look of excitement and adventure. The moment they were in spitting distance, Aliado would toss the shotgun in the air before grabbing it...in reverse? He'd pull the trigger, blasting the face of one Feral, before the recoil (and his own personal strength) would smack the butt of the gun in the over. Flipping it in the air, he'd pump it before aiming at the creatures head and firing, turning its brains into fleshy goo for the sewer.
As he rest the gun on his shoulder, he'd look over towards Char, and saw a new feral demon was now approaching from behind, drawn from the noise, and so making the shotgun disappear as he created a .45 Double Action revolver. He'd then begin to fan hammer- slamming down on the action as he unloaded into the demon approaching. Most Demons saw firearms as a weakness of lesser races, but Aliado made gunslinging seem like an art. Looking over at Char, he'd hold out his hand. "Names Aliado, Mi'Lady- Can I lend you a hand?" He asked, in his signature twang.
Least he was respectful.
@DANAsaur @Shinku⭐Kun @kookyboy9 @The Astronaut
