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Tuesday, 7 February 2012
11:05 p.m.

The noise of the pack echoed in Cedric's heart, beating a wild tune of merriment. The entire Syndicate pack was under two strict orders: Cause chaos, get home safe. It went without saying that they weren't going to bite anyone. A colossal undertaking of potions brewing had occurred the month before in order to produce the gallons of Wolf's Bane potion necessary for tonight's shenanigans. All the training and planning and coordinating done during that time had also been geared for the two hours that the wolves were planning on being above ground. For each cell of the pack there was a corresponding human pack keeping track on broomstick or roof running. They were the pack's defense against any Garou tribe in the city that took offense at the invasion or any ministry or wizarding types who got it in their minds to engage with spells rather than run.

All the planning focused on keeping the wolves safe. Not much preparation had gone into his end to keep the roof runners from injury; that was their purview. It hadn't concerned Cedric until one of them fell. Lina.

The black Garou wheeled away from his pack, knowing they'd keep going on their pre-planned route. He had to protect her from the muggles, or kill them all!

A growl rumbled through his chest and became a roar. The glint of gold eyes glared a challenge at the pack of muggles giving chase to his pack. He had to protect Lina. A quick scan found her huddled on a pile of trash bags where she had landed and was not moving. Two agents between him and her...two targets for two mighty swipes of his paws. Before he knew much else, he was crouched protectively over her.

A searing burn in his arm blossomed after the bark of a pistol. Were these fools really shooting him? Ced pinned his ears back and growled at the g-men once more, noticing the sizzle that indicated silver bullets. He'd die here, tonight, for Lina if he needed to. They weren't taking her any other way.
All around him, Klaus could hear a cacophony of screams and bullets whizzing by on their way to the massive werewolf before them. The werewolf seemed only further agitated despite the fact the bullets were laced with silver, yet none of this aggression was directed toward the red-headed woman he had darted to, the woman who had called a name. Did she know him? Did he know her? And was he somehow magically able to retain that knowledge despite being...well, in beast mode?

That was news to Klaus. None had ever seemed to retain any essence of their humanity before. They had all been monsters--not that this one wasn't, but he was different...special.

And Klaus felt some sort of strange sense of reverence at the moment just watching the thing. It made him feel dirty.

The only explanation was the size. Well, not the size, exactly...but what the size indicated: a different breed, a different strain. Was the virus mutating, changing?

Head back in the game, Klaus told himself, and his blue-eyed gaze shot over to Morgan. The immediate issue was subduing this creature. Their bullets were having minimal effect. All they were doing was killing him slowly. He had a feeling they might not be able to bring this thing back alive, if they didn't change tactics. Quickly yet conscientious still that he avoid making the were feel threatened (the mere fact it was even possible to make a were aware of what he was doing was baffling), Klaus moved over toward Jones.

"We sure these things are laced? At this rate, we're going to have the thing die come morning."

The screams of terrified citizens drifted across the night sky. Any magical creature worth its salt could have heard the rukus, so it should have been no surprise to anyone that the sounds of the terrified and wounded would draw out a more dangerous predator. Well, no surprise if the predators in question were known to the humans and wizards.

Excited howls and yips rent the night air as the mismatched Garou pack made its way toward the chaos. They had been under strict orders from the elders to remain unseen but the large coal black alpha that was on the prowl wasn’t one to just sit by when a chance to rid the world of some half-breeds was right in front of him. No, Fenris wolves never shied from a fight and considering Alric had 2 of his own tribe, 3 Gnawers and a Fury he had no intention of running away.

Even though the pack was mismatched, it functioned with purpose and precision in a clearly defined hierarchy. A quick pounce here, a broken back and ripped out throat there…. Not sound was made as the 7 made their way in the shadows between buildings, taking great care to remain unseen, striking as prey presented itself before fading away like ghosts. No human or wizard would know of their presence unless he allowed it. This was Gnawer territory after all, and the 3 Alric had with him led them unerringly into the thick of things.

The fights the group engaged in were quick and brutal. After no more then 10 minutes coats and teeth were covered in blood. A primal need to kill those weaker than themselves lead to pure excitement that could hardly be contained when the pack came across a group of humans and what appeared to be another Get, a half-blood by the smell of things, standing over what was soon to be the corpse of a human.

The small bark of a pistol had most of the pack turning with snarls and fangs bared. The metallic smell of silver and sizzling flesh turned the snarls into savage howls. The Garou weren’t stupid by any means and the fact that the weaklings were using silver against one of his own was enough to tip the alpha into a deep rage.

Snarls and barks followed as the alpha directed his pack to flank and take out the shooters. The Gnawers were no strangers to guns and Alric had no doubt the 3 would flank and take out the shooters with ease. That left the one standing before the half-blood and if anyone was going to kill a Get of Fenrir in battle iit would be him. A savage howl turned to what could only be described as a gleeful howl signaled the alphas attack as the one-eyed beast lunged for the closest target to his kin.
Her heart was racing. It was the first thing she noticed besides the fact that her eyes were closed. She felt like she had fallen asleep after a heavy night of drinking. Her body was sluggish, slow to respond to the idea of getting out of bed, and it was like there was a heavy weight on her chest that made it a little hard to breath. Perhaps she had had another nightmare. It took her mind several moments to realize that she was in fact, not in her bed. She wasn't even in any bed. Sometimes she wound up in other people's beds. Sometimes motel beds. This time, apparently she had wound up on the cold ground again, with some litter around her.

Of course, that wasn't entirely out of the normal for the red head either. She had woken up in some pretty terrible places over the years and the Russian woman had managed to keep herself together for awhile. She hadn't been this drunk in a long time. Slowly those blue green eyes opened and Lina took a breath. It wasn't until she turned her eyes slightly to the side that everything snapped back into place, at least in her mind.

The attack, running on the rooftops to provide support to those on the ground, throwing hexes at the people who were shooting at people she knew. People she cared about. People she lov-- someone had shot Ced. Someone had been shooting at him. She knew which one he was, she had made sure to memorize him the moment he changed so that she couldn't forget which one he was, and had kept an eye on him the entire time. Perhaps, not exactly what she was supposed to be doing, but close enough that Lina wasn't going to feel bad about it. And Ced was right next to her.

She shifted, trying to get to her feet, and that was when the rest of her body finally caught up to the real situation. There was pain shooting up her leg and the red head almost cried out from the suddenness of it. Her right leg was certainly broken and she had hit her head on the way down. She had fallen, which hadn't happened for years, but she was certain that this was probably the worst time to fall. And considering the distance of the roof to where she was laying, getting away with just a broken leg was pretty lucky. Her head was smarting, there were dozens of scrapes on her skin, and her wand lay in at least three pieces just a few feet past Ced. This was not good. This was really not good.

She didn't know what was beyond the big guy, but she could hear voices, and her mind panicked. She couldn't move, not well at least, and anyone moving her would have to be rather slow. She could probably crawl and deal with the pain, but she was making Ced vulnerable every moment he stood here trying to protect her instead of protecting himself. "Run. RUN! GO!" The words were growled out of her lips, a snarl that had nothing to do with the pain in her body, and everything to do with the sudden rush of emotions she was battling. She was weary, emotional, and Merlin be damned, probably going to pass out. She was probably going to wind up killed in this thing. That was alright. As long as Ced didn't die, that was alright.
Run. RUN!

No. A Garou didn't run. Even if he was vastly outnumbered and literally outgunned. Things were bad with the muggle law enforcement surrounding him. They somehow knew to have silver bullets. They were good shots, but apparently weren't going for the kill otherwise he'd be dead right now. The other Garou...that was an unforseen complication.

Sure, Ced thought, they'd asked the Nosferatu to keep the local packs busy and away from the main event...but when had bloodsuckers ever been reliable? The thought that he and Lina would die because the leeches didn't do their job pissed him off. He settled his defensive stance over his woman and bared his teeth at the pack leader, who snarled, barked, and eventually howled the charge. Ced braced himself for the brawl that would kill him.


A silver arrow shot down from the rooftop slammed into one of the smaller Gnawers, piercing through the rib cage, lungs, and heart. A discerning Garou would recognize the scent as Nosferatu. Two more arrows thunked down into the pavement of the alleyway, marking a clear boundary between the Garou and the humans. Ced and Lina were behind the unspoken challenge.

At the mouth of the alley away from the muggles, a cloaked figure dropped down. A pair of silver swords were unsheathed in challenge. Whatever the Garou pack would try, the Nosferatu were here to meet their challenge.

Cedric didn't know how he felt about the confrontation...the plan was working but he still hated vampires. Maybe it would be better for him and the muggles to disappear during the soon-to-break-out war. He looked over at the man who had shot him and raised his ears. Fangs still showed, but the intent of the gesture was a clear truce to withdraw from the alley.
Last edited by Orion on Mon Oct 27, 2014 9:55 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Laced, yes...but it appears that anything less than pure isn't working! Break out the DMSO darts!"

Klaus nodded sharply at Jones' words. So it seemed. They had come prepared for normal werewolves. What they had found was some monstrous deviation. To be honest, the thought scared him.

"Run! RUN!"

The woman's voice drew Klaus' attention quickly back to the scene unfurling before him. So, it was confirmed then. They had their own little case of Beauty and the Beast here. It would have been strange the beast was protecting her otherwise--stranger, that is. Klaus held up his hand in signal to the others to hold fire. "You heard the lady!" he called out. "DMSO's now!" The immediate scramble to change weapons or clips resounded on all sides. Still, Klaus held his hand steady. They had to tread carefully now. If they didn't, they could very well end up with a dead beast on their hands. As much as Klaus wouldn't mind, Jones would surely want quite the opposite. Weakened and sedated to the point capture was possible would be much preferred, especially since they had a bargaining chip. Again, something to tread carefully with. Would the wolf let them near enough to help the woman? There was no way she had made that fall uninjured.

The arrival of other beasts did not go unnoticed by Klaus, whose gray eyes narrowed to focus as he counted. "Eff me," he muttered with a heavy sigh as human figures approached. There was something off about them, and though he had no way to confirm it, he was almost willing to bet... Klaus shook his head as the glint of silver caught in the light of the moon. The hell was going on now? Underworld, perhaps? Something was off about the others who had entered the scene, even if he had no way to confirm what they were. His eyes moved from the newly arrived, self-assessed enemies to the one they had already been dealing with. It seemed he understood the situation they were in.

"Much as I'd love to stick around and meet Kate Beckinsale, mates...," Klaus said aloud, his attitude seemingly nonchalant despite his concerns. "Head back to the rendezvous point," he tacked on as he began to lower his weapon to his side, though he did not lower it completely. He met the other creature's eyes before nodding toward the others as though to tell the creature he wasn't meaning his motion to threaten him. "I'll be there shortly."

He kept his eyes on the creature as he began to approach it slowly but with purpose. "Look, I know you don't trust me," he said, hoping the thing could still understand language or that the girl would help him out at the very least, "but we need to get her out of here. My gun's going to do nothing against them, so I'll take her. You shield us. Understand?"
The packs movements came to a screeching halt when a startled cry and the sound of a body hit the ground. Alric whirled, seeking out the source. When green eyes settled on the unmoving form of one of the younger gnawers however the old alpha almost completely lost it to the rage. The Garou padded over to the unmoving form but skittered away at the presence of the silver bolt. There was only one enemy that would know how to outright kill a Garou….

Two more arrows hit the pavement and the pack skittered further back with a mixture of snarls and whines, effectively (at least for the moment) separated from their original prey.

A savage bestial snarl leapt from the curled lips of the alpha and green eyes sought out the new threat, eventually settling on a cloaked figure that had descended from the roof tops. It didn’t take a genius to recognize the creature. Even a pup, fresh to the world would know a Nosferatu when he smelled one. Alric howled a deep, low howl and the pack re-formed around him. The first attack had caught them by surprise but it wouldn’t happen again. Ears and noses were tuned to seek out the Nos in the area and if there was one thing Alric had learned over his many years was that hunting Nosferatu was a great deal of more fun than hunting half-breeds.

There was no signal given to attack. No sound, or motion, but when Alric sprung the pack was right on his heals.
They were not ever going to do a hunt like this again if Jones had anything to say about it. She liked field work just fine, but this mess of monsters and magic was getting to be a bit too much. Thank God that whatever caused the flood of werewolves out in London didn't happen every month. To have one cornered seemed to be more of a feat of getting one to slow the hell down than it was any luck or skill. And of course, since Klaus was leading the charge, they had to go for the biggest, slobberiest, blackest dog of them all. Not a runt, not a back of the pack straggler, not one on its own...no...a right bear of a monster if Jones was any judge.

But the bear they'd cornered was nothing compared to the pack of ones just like him....bigger and heavier in the chest and hips. Was the one they'd caught young or a different breed? Who was to say? Jones had her pistol trained on the new pack when arrows...silver arrows of all things...zipped down and eliminated one of the threat. Rather than keep her eye on the closest targets, Jones got a good view of the figured that leaped from the top of a building to land and taunt the wolves. A human had fallen and broken bones...this thing seemed to consider it mere play as the wolves wheeled and took chase. It was impossibly fast, who or whatever it was with the swords.

As the wild hunt disappeared from the alley, Jones turned back to her agents in time to hear Klaus make an accord with their wolf. She heartily agreed with the retreat order, but managed to work out one of the silver arrows from the pavement. The point didn't seem a bit damaged from the material.

"Let's radio in a disposal team to collect that dead wolf too. No use wasting tissue samples when they fall at our feet, right?" Hr nerves were evident in her tense joviality. The black wolf (and damn he was big! Was it really that his ear tips were even with her shoulders?!) snarled at her to move. With the witch collected, the team retreated to take the captives back to MI:5 HQ. Hopefully the wolf wouldn't mind loading into the van...then again...

Jones followed the team to the transports as she thought very, very carefully about what she was about to do. It would need to be quick...luckily, the wolf had eyes only for the redhead they'd collected, so...She aimed and pulled the trigger. A dart containing DMSO, silver nitrate, and a tranquilizer typically only used by zoos and wildlife biologists hit the wolf squarely in the large muscles of the shoulder. The gold eyed monster roared and spun to attack her but collapsed just as quickly. Jones hid her fear under a cool demeanor.

"Well it looks like we didn't over pay for the darts. Get him loaded up and monitor him...if he stirs hit him with another dose. If he doesn't stir, I'll make sure we have a reversal agent ready once he's caged. Now, load up and let's get home."
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