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April 16, 2012

Freedom came at night. Matthew Cox was able to shed himself and let the devil inside out to play. He’d adopted the name from a gang member who accused him of having an otherworldly force possessing him. He did fight like a man possessed, unafraid of what man could do to him…after all, broken bones healed and he was damn near fast enough to dodge a bullet. That lesson was hard learned. The projectile had zipped past his face and left a burn on his cheek. The shooter had both bones broken in both forearms. It would take him a while to heal, Matt thought.

Tonight’s patrol was quiet. Too quiet. Matt paused his parkour travels to listen to the night. He leaned against the steeple of an old Catholic church, refusing to skyline himself despite the dark night. There. Air whispered past sharp metal. Whatever or whoever was carrying the blade didn’t make a sound. No heartbeat, no footsteps, no breathing. They were coming up on him rapidly, more quickly than he himself was able to leap from roof to roof. A slither of steel betrayed the opponent as they drew a blade and threw the edge at him. How rude. Matt lept blindly backwards, arcing into a back flip that allowed him to catch the edge of the church’s intricately designed roof.

Here among the statues lining the eaves, Matt tried to keep a firm grip on the marble only to be betrayed by the smooth surface. Whatever was stalking him was able to pinpoint him easily, so Matt continued to lead the pursuit to the ground. As soon as he had the room, he started to run. Up ahead, an open door led into the narthex of the church.

Shit, I’m near the front. Someone’s probably inside…

The Devil ducked into the church anyway, turning and vaulting up to grab the lip of the balcony. He pulled himself up and onto the railing, using the added height to leap into the soaring arches of the rafters of the chapel. He was hidden in the shadows up here. The size of the hall contributed to acoustics that would confuse the sound of his heartbeat, assuming his invisible-to-radar-senses opponent had hearing as sensitive as his own. He’d not taken a direct path anywhere either, so no clear scent trail…
Last edited by Matthew Cox on Sat Jan 14, 2017 6:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.

It wasn't often Jace had the desire or interest to enter the London proper. In fact it was something to be avoided on all but the rarest of occasions. The alpha huffed as he waited from the roof of a building adjacent to the church he was told his target passed often. As rare as it was for Lucky 7 to operate in a city setting it was even more rare to be contracted out by a rival tribe... The city should have been the Glass Walkers bread and butter. So when the opportunity to gain some territory, some prestige and a favor from said tribe was offered, Jace took it.

They were on the prowl for what was thought to be a rogue Nosferatu. One that had been causing all sorts of trouble for a couple of the resident mob bosses and the request for some "cleaners" had gone out. Naturally Lucky 7 had been the first choice and all we're experienced in taking down the unnatural bastards. They had arrived in the area around mid afternoon and had situated themselves to settle in for a long wait. If anything could be said about Jace's pack, aside from the savagery they displayed, was that they we're smarter than most Garou should be and they were patient.

It had to be nearing 3am by the alphas estimation. His eyes continued to scan the various buildings surrounding the church before settling on the church itself. If the Walkers had giving him false info he would make them live to regret wasting his time. Jace didn't get to dwell on that for very long before a flicker of movement on the church roof caught his eye. Casually he looked around to see if the rest of the pack he'd stationed near his own spot had noticed as well. They had, and it looked like the spitfire he'd set on the church was already moving toward her prey. Perfect.

Jace made his way down to ground level and toward the church, eyes scanning the area. The other 6 of the pack had congregated beside the church. the alpha stalked up to them with a questioning look on his face. A quick explanation that their prey had managed to make it inside was all Jace needed to know things were not going to go smoothly. Wasn't that a just a piss off.

A couple of quickly barked out orders and the 5 of the pack dispersed to cover all conceivable exits while, he and the last be his shadow. Once he was sure he'd given everyone a chance to set up the alpha drew two knives from his bandolier and placed them in his left hand. Jace then proceeded to make his way inside the church. Jace thought he could detect a faint heart beat but it was coming from far off... there was a scent trail, but it was scattered and hard to pin point. Well to hell with subtly. He hated churches anyway and the sooner they were all out the better.

"Little Nos, little Nos, best be ready cause I'm coming in!"

A small nod of his head to the right had his shadow moving off in that direction. If that bastard blood-sucker tried to come up from behind him, it was going to be in for a world of hurt.
The key to slowing your heart rate and quieting he pounding rush was deep, steady breaths that came in slowly. Slow was key so that your air didn't rattle down your throat. That could give you away as easily any other noise.

Two figures. Matt had a feeling that they weren't alone. Damn. What hunted in packs, had a nasty temper, and superhuman abilities? Matt didn't think these were the kind of werewolves Klaus hunted. Had the Garou heard about him investigating with Kat? Was she in danger of getting met by this brute squad too?

"Little Nos, little Nos, best be ready cause I'm coming in!"

Nos? What was-oh. The vampires Klaus reported on. Mortal enemies of...Garou. They thought he was a vampire. Why? What made these wolves (Matt was sure of their species now) think that he was a Nosferatu?

It would be stupid to respond. As of now, he had the advantage of altitude and stealth. All he had to do was get them separate, take one down, take the second down, and go ghost again before any back ups came in. Simple, right? Matt sat tight in the shadow of the flying buttresses that supported the roof, waiting for his opportunity.
Jace strained his senses to try and pin point where their quarry had decided to hide itself, careful to keep his back to a wall, not wanting to leave himself open if it could be helped. It was more than a bit frustrating when he was greeted with silence. Mother of god he hated Nosferatu. Such a pain to track down and hunt. The alpha continued to slowly make his way toward the back of the church, his head tilted slightly to the side and upward in hopes of catching the faintest sound or scent. Anything that would give him an edge.

The soft sound of a rubber sole, scraping against the tiled floor was a unique sound and all the spiral needed to know someone was coming. Jace moved like a shadow and hid himself behind one of the churches ornate columns to hide himself from view. Not long after was a heart beat, and shortly after that a faint call.

"Hello? Who's there?"

Jace cursed his luck. Another reason he hated cities. Humans always tended to wander into things they didn't belong in. He felt his rage slip. Now he'd have another body to get rid of. The alpha shifted his stance slightly to get a better line on the newcomer and frowned. It was a priest. Ah well, it wasn't like he was s god fearing man or anything stupid like that. The whippoorwill was all that mattered to him and right now it wanted blood. Jace slide one more blade from it's home on the bandolier so that he'd still have two in hand in case the Nos decided to show. Once it was free the alpha cocked his arm back and prepared to throw a killing blow.

Horror flooded Matt when he realized that the wolf hunting him was going to kill Father Donahue. Matt wasn't as nearly religious as he'd been previously in his life, but the Father was good people. He took care of the ones that others overlooked. Matt hated himself for putting the old man in danger.

As soon as he decided to protect the clergyman, Matt's body was moving, leaping, falling on top of the wolf. Matt led with a right cross, knowing he was going to get it by the knife.
A racing heart rate and a sharp spike in emotion was the only warning Jace had that something was coming. Even then it was far to late to avoid any attack that was coming. The weight that had landed on his back was solid and had him stumbling forward with a snarl as arms wrapped around him before he could finish the throw. What the hell was that! What in the bloody hell had just happened?! Jace heard the fist coming before he saw it, but it crossed over top of his throwing arm and prevented him from throwing up any kind of guard.

Rather than allow any kind sort of surprised panic to take over, the alpha took the hit to the side of the face with a growl. Quickly he reached up and sandwiched the arm in between his hands and dropped his right shoulder, tipping himself forward while falling to a knee to throw his attacker off of him. When Jace felt the weight transfer he slashed out with his right and the blade he'd been originally about to throw before skittering back a few feet and getting into a more defensive position, red eyes settling on his opponent.

Whoever it was he certainly didn't look like any Nosferatu he'd ever fought with before. All dressed in black, some sort of freak mask on. Jace scented the air but all his nose was telling him was that whoever this was smelled more like one of those fucked up half-breeds than any Nos. Had he been played?
Whatever the humanoid was, he smelled like a dirty dog. Probably unwise to say so, Matty...knife inbound, suck it in!

He'd been thrown off his foe and managed to flip, landing on his feet, facing his opponent. The knife swing was aimed at his guts, Soft parts, the abdominal muscles. If you could spill the intestines, you compromised a man's ability to stand upright and his desire to live.

Matt arched his back and sucked his abs tight to avoid the blow. The movement led naturally into a front flip kick, so Matt executed the power move and brought his heel down hard on the wolf's shoulder.

A snarl behind him that there had been two targets. Unfortunately, number two caught him with a vicious kick to his still-healing ribs. Matt groaned and snapped onto the offending leg with both arms. He drug himself tight to the leg, risking a stomp, but he used the grip to leverage a kick up into the woman's face. Her head snapped back and should have dropped her if she was human. Unfortunately for Matt, she was not. Still, the movement was enough for him to push away from the two Garou and situate himself between them and the Father.
The heel on the shoulder caused Jace to drop to a knee due to the force of the blow or risk taking a header into the floor. It also had the unintended effect of making said arm go slightly numb. He sucked in a breath and grimaced. This was definitely not a Nosferatu... thankfully his shadow had stepped in and been one hell of a successful distraction. The sounds of bones crunching under force was like music, though Jace did wince when she took the blow to the side of the head and he rightly couldn't fault her for letter whatever the hell it was break away.

Jace used the break in the short fight to push himself back up to his feet. He tilted his head to the to relieve some of the stiffness he felt there after the kick. he did a couple of quick rotations with the arm to make sure it was still functioning and to the alphas delight it was. When the man in black put himself squarely between the priest and himself, Jace couldn't help the feral grin. By choosing to protect someone weak like that it gave the hunting Garou the advantage. They could use the priest to get to the man, wolf, thing or whatever it was. Still Jace didn't rush in and he held up his hand to prevent his packmate from doing the same.

"Now I was contracted to hunt down a rogue Nosferatu, so color me surprised that your description fits my target. In fact you smell like one of those freaks of nature the humans made, but you sure don't fight like one. So what the hell are you?" He was curious and if the answer wasn't satisfying he'd carry one with the contract. While Lucky 7 didn't go out of their way to hunt down werewolves they certainly didn't shy from it if an opportunity rose. And this was looking like one of those fine opportunities.
Both of the wolves had steady, if elevated, heartbeats. They were used to combat. The Father however was straining. Matt backed up, crowding the old man back into the halfway he'd come out of. He half turned his head and addressed the man quietly.

"Run back to your office, barricade the door...go, now!"

Matt's focus returned to the man when he began to speak. What was he? A bootneck. A devil. A warrior. What was the best way to answer someone who thought they held the cards?

"Me? I'm the Devil."

Matt rushed the speaker and leaped, planting his boot in the wolf's face and vaulting by up and over the two hunters, booking it for the bell tower.

He didn't consider that the ringing of the bells would be devastating to his delicate hearing. All he was thinking about was shadows to ghost into and attack from, maybe a length of wood or metal to provide him an equalizer. Or one of the daggers if he could get one.

shnnng fwip!

Matt spun quickly at the sound of the dagger being drawn and thrown. As soon as it left his hand on a trajectory towards the big one, he regretted throwing away the weapon. Still, based on the roars, they wouldn't be going after the padre. He resumed his original egress towards the tower.
The man was fast and fought in a way that was reminiscent of a Garou... but that was impossible. He didn't smell like any Garou he'd ever come across. The rush had been expected, the boot to the face not so much and it left Jace with a bit of a bruised ego and the start of a headache as he staggered backwards, mostly aware that the target was running up. He shook his head to clear it and cursed. He heard Shadow draw and throw what he had assumed was her dagger, only to feel a sharp pain in his chest and shoulder a short time later. Jace looked down to see a chunk of metal protruding from his right side and a slow trickle of blood. His first thought was along the lines of "that bastard just wrecked my jacket" but was quickly replaced by a white hot rage and savage roar.

Any thoughts of talk vanished from the alpha as he pulled out the offending piece of metal and shoved it into an open holster on the bandolier he wore. It that thing was the devil then Jace was going to send him back to hell in a million pieces. The alpha let out a sharp whistle to alert those outside that trouble was potentially coming before he motioned to shadow to start heading up to the bell tower. He followed right on her heals, all senses on high alert.
Here they came up the stairs. Matt swung from the second level banister to plant a kick into the woman, then dropped on top of her to exchange several blows. They rolled down the stairs. There was no way of avoiding being black and blue in the morning, was there?

Matt wound on top with a grip on her shirt. It wasn't easy to slam her several times against the hardwood until she went limp, but Matt succeeded.

He failed to notice the man coming up behind him or the thrown dagger. That is, he failed to notice the dagger until it bit into his shoulder with a vengeance.


The knife had stuck in the thick muscle of his neck and shoulder. Painful as it was, it was a tool he could use. May gritted his teeth and pulled the knife out, then faced his experienced foe. They were well matched, but Matt felt that he had the edge of the unknown in his side.
Unfortunately for Shadow, he needed her to be the bait and she played her part to perfection. Somewhere beneath the rage Jace knew he'd have to come back for her and make sure she was still alive. if she wasn't there would be no place on this earth the "Devil" could hide. No family or friend of his that would be safe. But right now the urge to maim was far to great to stop for his pack mate and the second he had an opening he let a dagger fly and was rewarded with the metallic scent of blood and a cry that wasn't his.

Jace didn't give the man any chance to attack first. The Spiral followed the throw in and as soon as he was within range he threw a hard left hook to the jawline, angling his punch so that if it hit it would hit with the butt end of the knives he still held. A sharp kick toward the man's right knee followed.
An explosion of light and pain filled his head like fireworks, dropping him to the ground. He laid there, dazed.

GO GO GO Marine! Over the wall! Double time!

Basic training was exhausting, painful, frightening for the newness and the raw energy. The trick was to lose yourself in the energy of it and follow the tide out into the open ocean, accept that you breathed the water of the Royals, and that this was now home.

Push ups! Down, up! Down,-

Up. He had to get up and- Matt whipped his head to the side and had his ear nicked rather than his brain skewered. He led with an uppercut as he surged to his feet, then a hook with his purloined dagger in a reversed grip, whipping the blade on a reverse course once his hook followed through.
Jace snarled when his attack wasn't rewarded with brains being splattered all over the floor. How the bloody hell did he manage to get out of the way? He was moving like a freaking Garou or Nos... not the werewolf he smelled like. The Spiral just barely managed to move his face out of the line of an upper cut as the man sprung upward. Still it was close enough that the Garou felt the wind whistle past. But that hadn't been Jace's main concern. A flicker of steel had caught his eye and rage enhanced reflexes were all that saved him as he caught the hand in a two-handed grip to stop its forward momentum. Unfortunately that had left him open and the shot to the diaphragm had him gasping for breath. He pushed through the pain with a snarl and twisted hard on the arm holding the knife in hopes of making the Devil drop it.
Matt snarled his own reply, jabbing at the Garou's face and eyes to get free of the vice grip. He couldn't break free, but he could attack.

He head butted, kicked at the Garou, and finally added his second arm to the fight to keep the daggers his possession and his shoulder intact. This bastard was strong, but so was Matt. He twisted his core, adding his back and and core into the fight for the dagger.
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