Immortal's Club - Game Thread. Arc Five : Winter Soldier (Started, Open)

[drmigit2]

Gunfire everywhere, one of the police officers had pissed off the compound and was being hailed with gunfire. The limo that Naditabius, Olé, Vlad and their men were in remained relatively unscathed, watching from the distance. The cops fired a rocket into the compound, breaching the doors. Naditabirus saw this as her chance.

?Olé, I am going to drive this thing. I don?t have time to explain, but they won?t be able to hurt me, not seriously anyway.? Naditabirus smiled as she tapped on the driver?s shoulder and shuffled to switch spots with him. She also told the guy riding shotgun to move back. Naditabirus turned to Olé and brought out a needle from her purse. It had a strange blue liquid in it that shimmered in the sun. The Lich produced a wicked grin as she plunged it into her arm. It was adrenaline designed specifically with immortal physiology behind it. Coke had nothing on what she was on now.

Olé motioned to one of the men behind him and they quickly brought out a metal box. Opening the box, revealed an RPG similar to what the police were using. They began to put it together as Naditabirus turned on the car.

_________________________

The men inside the compound were shooting away at the police officers and the weird creatures in front of them. Those on top of the walls were doing the same, but the compound had a less stellar view of the situation, and were mostly focused on making sure nobody snuck in. It was pretty shocking then, when we heard a massive horn blast from what had to be a black limousine driving at full speed toward the compound doors. We fired clip after clip into it, shooting what they assumed was the driver a dozen times, yet the car not only ignored us, but the driver did too. Moving straight for us, we began to steel themselves. That was when out of a window, an RPG poked out and fired.

The rocket fired before anyone could react, we dove for cover but quite a few of us were unable to avoid it. I ran for my life and got behind a broken wall while the dust settled. It was too difficult to see anything, with the dust from outside, compiled with the debris from two different rocket blasts bringing up any particles. I poked my head up to see what was there, and my eyes grew wide.

A massive horn blast came from the car and this monster leaped from a window, hopping on top of the first person he could find and started eating him in front of me. Soon after, bullets flew out of the car from all angles, we tried to avoid them, but nothing we did seemed to help. If we weren?t getting slaughtered by bullets, that creature was ripping out our organs. I cried for help, but a bullet hit me in the side. I fell to the ground and my vision got fuzzy. It was nothing but gunfire for the next minute or so, everyone around me was dead.

The doors to the limo opened and about ten people marched out brandishing assault rifles, one of them smoking a cigar and chuckling. He was in a deep red suit. The driver was a woman, who was struggling to stay up, likely due to all the bullets. I swear I could see her wounds closing as she sat down and pulled out a cigarette. The man who was eating my comrades wiped his face of our blood and stood up with a wicked smile, before running over to the woman and helping her sit down. I could not hear what they were saying. The man in red walked over to me and yelled ?We need to find the boss! Go get Mahmod!? Before turning to me, he took out a pistol and the last thing I saw was the spark of his gun firing.

 

[Baddamobs]

"The front entrance is out of the question, but we could circle the compound, find another entrance and do our job while the two up front distract all the dealers!"

Screecher only just heard the other Immortal over the gun fire, but nodded to herself at the plan. Their numbers and fire power was too few to lay on a frontal assault, and they had lost the element of surprise. Only subterfuge was going to get them through this mess in one piece.

"Alright...if we put this truck out of gear, we might be able to roll it around to the back, without getting shot to hell." Screecher turned to the other crouched with her. "Now we need to be careful, but we might-"

Whatever she was going to say was cut off when a RPG hit the already wrecked wall around the open gates, and a limousine rammed it's way through the rubble. By the sounds of it, the fire fight had moved into the inner courtyard.

Every Immortal present that Screecher could see was just silent for a moment. Their faces was a mixture of varying levels of shock and surprise, though some could only muster up agitated disbelief that something completely insane had happened for what was probably the sixth time that day. Eventually, around when the sound of gun fire was clearly moving into the base itself, Lilith spoke up.

"Definitely Naditabirus."

"Undoubtedly." Screecher sighed, her back falling against the truck. She wasn't sure how much more insanity she could take, and they were still in the presence of two burning figures that had a high potential to be gods, or at least beings of that nature.

Gods...they just complicate things, don't they? The ex-bird's old grudge briefly flared for a moment, before the dull throbbing of too little blood in her system forced her to calm herself. Judging by the fact they weren't all frying at this moment in time, Screecher could only guess that the two figures were still pre-occupied by the remaining guard forces, though she didn't have the energy to peek her one good eye around the corner to even check.

"Best use that window that's just been created and get the hell into the place, then." Screecher told the others, her head drooping. Her legs felt like lead, and she didn't think she'd make the run to the base's door by herself. "You all go ahead...I... I'll just guard the truck..."

 

[Frission]

Shenshen was beyond surprise at this point, he was just too tired and confused.

After Kanati, his attack, the firefight, the gods and Ameratat he wouldn't have blinked if a meteor fell from the heavens or it started raining blood, or worse a member of the "big three" that he hunted had returned to haunt him. Now that would have been bad. That the newest strange occurrence was "just" a limousine that charged into the compound and discharged several armed men, which only further intensified the firefight was something Shenshen was almost grateful for. At least this may end up in their favor.

"Definitely Naditabirus."

"Undoubtedly."

Shenshen nodded his head wearily and started moving towards the compound. He had come to expect this sort of thing from Naditabirus after the mustard gas incident in WWI.

You all go ahead...I... I'll just guard the truck..."

Shenshen sharply turned his head back and made a dissatisfied sound. Normally he would have preferred to get injured immortals escorted out, but they weren't a position to do something like that. In this situation just leaving Screecher alone wouldn't be a good idea. Their was too much risk of a "dead" immortal being captured, not to mention it was a poor comrade who leaves a friend behind. He could have someone wait here and wait until Screecher's regeneration completely kicked in, but of the immortals here didn't have the necessary strength to act as a good guard, or he simply didn't trust them enough period to guard her. What to do? Maybe Idun?
(there was a time when they were hunting a particularly tenacious beast that she...

A loud scream reverberated out from the compound and startled the immortals present. Shenshen couldn't afford to wait and try to hatch a plan. Shenshen made a gesture to Isaac and Lilith to get their attention and made a motion to carry Screecher. His signing wasn't what is used to be and just to be safe he also said as loud as he could "Carry her until we get to another side of the compound".

Best case scenario she would have healed enough by then. If not... he would just improvise something.

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

The business in the town was plain troublesome but this was a stage she was accustomed too. Neglecting the weapons she stored inside, she found a knife among the carnage and for a moment she lost track of the situation. Ali was crouched behind the bullet-ridden car as the Immortals battled their way inside but she saw something in the knife's reflection. She saw the ghost of Kakizaki Kageie among the smoke.
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September 10, 1561

"Forward!" The Uesugi surged forward across the green field. Across from Ali was the army of the Takeda, awaiting them with spears and swords at the ready but she didn't care. She only pressed her steed faster and faster alongside Kakizaki Kageie who lead the vanguard towards Takeda's "Kakuyoku" formation. Adrenaline surged through every inch in her body as she felt invincible in the face of the arrows and the musket balls because she truly was. Arrows began to fall at first, a trickle but then it hailed the closer they were to the Takeda lines. Ali didn't even flinch as a wall of musket balls came roaring past her. Men died around her but she stayed her course alongside Kageie who charged fearlessly towards the enemy lines. Ali knew for a fact the man wasn't Immortal but his courage made her believe he must have been.

"For Uesugi!" A cry yelled out but among the commotion, it was barely audible. Ali and Kageie crashed into the Takeda lines, slashing and cutting before reforming. Men died at her katana as she swiped and slashed but the Takeda line was holding. A spear impaled her steed and Ali fell off. She hit the ground with a thud. Soldiers swarmed her with spears only to be intercepted by Kageie himself atop his horse.

"Into the fray!" Was the only thing Ali heard as the man slashed the Takeda soldiers left the right. A new wave of Uesugi crashed into the line and now they were falling back. Ali was at the forefront with her sword, relishing the chaos, the blood, the adrenaline, everything. She felt more alive as she cut through her enemies, drowning and drinking in their blood.
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"Into the fray!" Ali yelled out as she charged out of her position with a crazed look on her eyes. She dashed from cover to cover, with nothing but a knife in her hand. Rounds whizzed by and impacted all around her but Ali was fast and craving violence. She disappeared into a haze of dust and smoke slashing and stabbing all that came in contact with her. Somewhere along her stabbing spree she obtained a machete, caked in the blood of its owner. With a knife and a machete, she caused more havoc. In a small part of her mind, she hoped that the others would follow suit.

 

[TheIronRuler]

The Ground Shakes.

Cartel Thugs die all around the invading forces, a seemingly combined front of unnatural abominations and their helpers. The Elders break and burn everything. The reborn Vampire feasts on hot red. The lich going berserk. It is the epitome of chaos, and in chaos everyone turns on each other.

The Gods will be forced to fight with the lesser immortals.

The Vampire will be forced to fight with the Vampire Hunter.

Torn between the two, the lich will choose her allegiance.

In between it all, blood flows as water in a river, and lives are lost without count.

It was then that the Gods, instead of turning on each other, turned on their lesser pretenders. Huitzilopochtli, the passion of war flowing through his veins, bathed himself in blood and cut his way to those who could not die. He would feast on their hearts, and he will forever feast on the same heart for eternity. A woman charged forward, knife in hand, wrecking havoc through the mortal lines - it did not matter to him. All that mattered was her still beating, red, red heart. He charged at her with his arms outstretched, his bare chest aching for the embrace of death, for it is a fickle mistress. Out the corner of his eye a huge man bellowed for his blood and joined the fray, dead and drunken eyes staring at him from a sea of misery.

Huehueteotl, the master of fire, watched it all burn to the ground. Cries of pain at the searing flames enveloping those less fortunate to have perished quicker filled his ears and his pride. He took pride in his work, and nothing was greater than the flame. The warmness danced and turned in the compound, turning everything to ashes. It was fire, the same devastating force that tore down the Library of Alexandria and made thousands of years of knowledge into a heap of nothing. Icy glares pierced his heart - it was the will of the north, the cold endless winter which enveloped him in an instant - Idun twisted and turned her daggers in her hands, cutting through the air with a sound of death.

Shenshen returned to the world, a realization crawling down his spine. Something was familiar, so very familiar, and terribly wrong. It was the gods, but there was something else, something more sinister - someone who truly didn't belong. Vlad caught a whiff of his old nemesis, that stuffy old geezer from a long-forgotten age, stalking after his prey. It was the curious case of a resurrection, so to speak, when Screecher found herself in a better shape than before, her regenerative abilities kicking hard to high gear.

 

[Baddamobs]

The void came faster then expected.

Usually, Screecher's enigmatic 'benefactor' forced her to go through the full nine yards of death before they kicked her back out: sometimes even letting her see the peaceful wall of shadow, as if to taunt her with the eternity of sleep that would be forever out of her grasp.

No, this time, the void came to her.

The ex-bird felt a momentary wave of worrying Déjà vu: it was too much like her first death, with time slowing to a crawl around her, and feeling like she was looking down at her own body. Unlike the first time, the figure didn't bother to appear, though she heard their voice as plain as day.

Not this time, proud one. I'm already busy enough with the sudden increase of passings all your friends just caused.

It was hard to describe the voice: it was simultaneously a monotone, a robotic thing devoid of feelings. But it was also a softly spoken encouragement, like a parent urging their child on to their own two feet for the first time. Sometimes, there was also fury and anger within the voice, while others heartbreak and sobbing.
It was not simply all those different voices speaking at once, it was more like every speaker in the world was talking at once, but in perfect harmony. Screecher was certain she would never get used to it. She also hoped she wouldn't have to.

As you can plainly see, the world is...going through quite a sudden change. It will be jarring for a while, proud one, especially since you are not privy to all of the world's happenings. But know, child of the wing, that our agreement still stands. These gates are not for you to pass.

Screecher felt the expected wave of melancholy that came with the news she already knew. She used to sob and weep, but...dying a few too many times makes you a little jaded to the disappointment. Instead, she simply asked,

I've not grown senile yet. I remember the agreement perfectly. But...why come early this-

This time is the sole exception to the norm, proud one. Immortal souls are difficult to govern at the best of times, and non-permanent death is something a frequent occurrence right at this second. See it as a favor, or be forced to see it as a cruse.

...Very well...

Good bye, proud one. Until these gates are denied you again...

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Having several pints of blood and a brand new lung suddenly materialize inside your reawakening body was a hell of feeling.

Screecher gasped, groaned, and spluttered for a second, overwhelmed by all of her senses returning for several painful seconds. Suddenly every sound was clear, suddenly the gaverity returned to Earth, suddenly her eye-

...Oh come on! You fixed up everything BUT this?!

Screecher winced as she prodded around her still damaged eye socket. Maybe her benefactor didn't consider that a 'needed to live' part of her? Would the eye even return, thinking about it? It had repaired itself in the past, but this time the entire retina was probably wrecked. Maybe that affected it's recovery?

A sudden scream and the sound of what was probably a small explosion reminded Screecher that this probably wasn't the time to be pondering and wondering.

With energy back in her movements, the Immortal twisted around, looking over her cover at the situation.
She only needed to look at the still present gods, dying mortals, dying and re-dying Immortals, and the fact the entire bases was very quickly catching fire to draw her conclusion.

Calling the situation 'hellish' would have been a compliment.

Ducking back, Screecher assessed her options. As much as she would love to stick it to some beings of god like power and proportions, these were not the god that she had a feud with. Not only that, but she wasn't and idiot. She could hold her own in scarp, but lacked the ferocity or combat experience of the others. At best, she could draw the beings of flames and light attention, before having to sheepishly trot back to her after life benefactor.

Better she focused her efforts on something she knew she could do. Even better if she could fill in a gap in whatever hole of this mess needed fillin-

Wait, who's actually looking for Mahmod by this point? Screecher, not wanting to risk poking her head over, did a mental check of the Immortals present. Naditabirus would be the most likely one to have driven a feakin' limousine into the heavily armed fort, and the only one crazy enough to bring some sort of private army with her.

Thinking about, why don't we all have a private army? Hell, why don't I have a private army to do this crazy crap instead of me? Remember to look into that.

Screecher was mostly making light of the situation (and slightly panicking), but she saw an opening here. Naditabirus was, contrary to evidence, mostly sound of mind. That said, someone with a more consistently sound mind should probably work on retrieving Mahmod, aka the reason they were actually even here in the first place.

AND if I personally retrieve the rouge alchemist, I can probably kiss my debts to the Club and Lilith goodbye. Even if it means a little ransoming...

Nodding, Screecher redoubled her grip on the half loaded revolver in her hand, before leaping from her cover, and charging to the gates.

A mixture of fire and bullets whizzed around her, but she wouldn't halt: the owl had just got second wind, and the owl was hungry for prey!

 

[PlastikThief]

Shanna followed in after the rest, screaming bloody murder with the best of them. Their blood was up, red hot mercury in their veins. The fires that were spreading only increased Shanna's anxiety and adrenaline. They had tended to avoid any acts of arson in their work as a revolutionary, however one cannot have a rebirth without fire, and Shanna knew that all too well.

So it was with a bloody grimace that Shanna focused on one of the Gods wreaking havoc throughout the compound. The one that drew their ire, the one that haunts them in their sleep, echoes of hundreds of years? worth of knowledge and information all gone in an instant.

"I will not fail to extinguish you this time, Fire God!" The Librarian called, firing a few shots at the entity?s head.

Huehueteotl was his name, one honoured throughout the land, now forgotten among the rest of his kin. Though they did not survive, their memories lived on in his mind, and so did their rage for those who replaced them and killed their people. A rage so powerful to burn the sun, the Lord of Fire thought, a rage to scorch the earth. Surely a single immortal was no threat.

The modern age hit him right over the head, literally speaking, with a couple of bullets piercing wheezing past his past. Poor marksmanship, a sign of another imperfection those new imposters held. She was getting closer by the second and the fires were moving forward in his mind, ready to burst right open with another of his hot breaths. Burn her, burn her to the ground, burn her to ashes till nothing by memory remains, and burn all of it as well.

A familiar sensation pierced his side, then another, and another. A set of blades pierced through his ribs, cut at his shoulder, the length of his arm, nicked his chin. It was quick, efficient, brutal. It was as cold as winter. Idun was on him, but before he sustained any considerable damage she retreated back, knowing fully well the extent of the inferno the two had encountered.

'Stay back', Idun called at Shanna, 'This one is hot'.

Somewhere inside Shanna knew that Idun's timely intervention had saved them a quick roasting for being so impetuous to shoot metal at a god of fire, but that didn't stop the Librarian from snarling as Idun's warning pierced Shanna's foggy mind.

"I fully intend to get rid of that factor" Shanna growled, dropping an empty pistol and replacing it with another from the ground. "We need to get the upper hand, he's more powerful than us, and we need an advantage."

How can you defeat fire?

Idun was twisting and turning, retreating and running from side to side as beams of flame went around her. She could shrug those injuries off given the time, but she had none - if caught in his flames, total incineration wasn't far from reality.

The compound was on fire, the fight raged on, yet ordinary people rushed out to save their homes from the flames - women and children carrying buckets of water to quench the thirst of the fire in an attempt to save everything they owned. It was futile in the end, for they were doomed to perish in that place, but they reminded Idun of an important fact. The natural enemy of fire is water, and they were getting that water from somewhere.

'Keep him busy-', Idun sprang from her cover and ran over to the other side, 'I have a plan'.

Sure, give the person who miraculously survived being burnt alive in one of the most intellectually damaging fires in history the job of keeping the God of Fire busy.

Spirals of flame engulfed the ground as Shanna twirled across the compound, dodging bullets and debris alike. Years of accumulating knowledge of combat style and tactics was all for nothing if the Librarian couldn't think straight enough to implement them. It was up to them to deal with this monstrosity until Idun came back and they were damn well going to do it.

Catching his attention with a few more bullets Shanna rolled into view and lobbed the gun at their target. Moving on before they saw if it hit, Shanna unloaded the rest of their scavenged ammunition at the fire god, hoping that it would, if nothing else, keep his attention enough to allow Shanna to punch him in the face a few times.

It was hot, so hot he didn't even feel them pierce his flesh. The flying lead came at him from all directions, a nuisance that only proved to slow him down. He had lived in the past and seen the conquistadors and their sons reach the shores of his lands, but this new contraption was an entirely different beast. It was quicker than all of them, and stronger than the sharpest flame.

The immortal opposing him proved quite difficult to catch with his flames. Tentacles of fire lazily searched for fertile soil while going after Shanna. She was picking up any weapon in sight and unloading it straight at the lord of fire. A screen of flames threw off most of the shots, but the strain was showing on him. When before he didn't even break a sweat, he was getting tired and his steps growing heavier. He ignored the others around him, instead focusing on his one goal - his one target.

'Stop your jumping, you restless hare', he shouted at his opponent, 'I will catch you, and burn you forever'.

A spurt of flames jumped on Shanna's left, searing their arm and disintegrating the sleeve of their shirt. Time was running out. A question kept harassing them - Where's Idun?.

[hr]2[/hr]

It was a freaking well, set up in the lower parts of the compound, under an entire floor of wooden warehouse. There was no way she could bring enough water from there to take out that flaming monstrosity.

If you can't bring it there, then bring him here...

The plan was clear, although it was less of a plan and more of a hopeful idea - Steer him away from the fight and towards the well, then trap him inside. What could possibly go wrong?

[hr]2[/hr]

"You've already burned me once and that was enough!" Shanna yelled, patting down the embers of their sleeve and rolling to escape once more. "You and your element are the reason I'm here now! You are why I can't die, why my life won't end!? Shanna had picked up an automatic weapon of some description during their roll and was now walking towards their target yelling over the repeated gunshots.

"My eternal life is dedicated to why such a destructive force has kept me alive. And my be is that it's to kill you!" Now Shanna was bearing down on the God, whose efforts to melt or redirect the Librarian's bullets were becoming less effective by the second.


Standing before the God Shanna glimpsed the waving for of Idun from a doorway. Getting the gist of her message, Shanna looked right into the burning coals of the God and kicked him square between the legs before running off towards Idun's doorway.

"Come and finish the job you ************!"

 

[TheIronRuler]

Long, grey and thick fumes of smoke snaked through the hallways and doors all through the northern side of the compound, filling it with poison. Fire followed suit, eating away at much of the wood, growing by the minute and destroying anything it touched. It came down towards Idun, somehow self-aware and in purusit of her, its prey, its delicious uncooked meal of the day.

Suddenly the fire stopped, and with it Idun's breath. She could hear in the distance Shanna screaming and panting, making her way inside the structure and to the compound. A time which seemed like years passed before Idun breathed again, and the fire exploded. Someone was angry. Someone was very, very angry.

[hr]2[/hr]

There was a punishment for every insult, but there was no punishment fit for the crime Huehueteotl suffered. Nothing will calm his nerves and avenge his honor for the indignity he had suffered. All he could do was try to wipe away the memory of such an insult, and the first step of that was to burn it down. His fires intensified, and the compound was lit to high heaven. There was hell to pay, and he was eager to collect.

Everything was on fire. Shanna held a burnt scrap of their shirt to their mouth and nose, holding back the hacking coughs as the smoke thickened.The tight corridors of the compound's interior exascerbated the hazard, and Shanna was not equipped with the vision forthis kind of environment.

Each step was an echo, a reminder of their past, the last time the world was on fire, papyrus falling like meteors from the high roof, cases toppoling, people screaming and fleeing. Now was much the same, people fled past, looking for any escape from the fire and bullets. More and more people bled into those that Shanna had once known, and everything became too much.

The images coalesced into Idun and Shanna latched onto her, tears flecking their cheeks. Whether or not they were from the smoke or memories, Shanna wouldn't tell.

"What the hell are we going to do?"

Shadows in the mist moved in and out of Idun's periphery vision, lurking in their scorching forms for prey. The smoke rose even higher, and she was finding it harder to breath without inhaling a mouthful of smoke. There was only so much she could bear before suffering the consequences, and in that occaision she had to be in her best for what was to come. Shanna came closer, holding a rag over her mouth, begging for a way out, some solution to save them both. It was laying to their left, the water hole wide open, a circle of stone rocks and a pit going down dozens of feet. Inside was water, enough to quench the first of the entire compound, and hopefully enough to quench the fires burning through the Aztec Immortal.

Idun grabbed Shanna and pulled her closer. 'I am coming for you, whore', the sound was deafening, a sound of flames licking at bare skin, sparks going off underneath another victim of the pyre - it was the sound of death in the always-shifting form of the flame. He broke through the wooden wall like it was nothing, incinerating it to ash.

'Stay behind me', Idun held Shanna closer and pulled her behind her, 'Lure him here'.

There he was, the end of things. Death and destruction. The end of all, incarnate. Shanna's burning rage was a mere matchstick in comparison to the all encompassing inferno that eclipsed all escape routes. All they could do was scream in the wake of it.

"Took you long enough to come and get us, did I injure you that badly? Don't you want to come and repay the favour? Or maybe I should just finish you off?" The posturing was inane and absurd, but it was all Shanna could think of.

"Come and get me, you ancient footnote! You're just an inprenounsable name in a long forgotten book. All I do is read books and I don't even know who the fuck you are, so have fun being unknown!"

Breath in, Breath out. Ignore the smoke. It's a cool morning and the mist around you is your body heat dissolving in the snow. Everything is cold, everything is as it should be

He was on top of her, pulsating with a red hot passion, flames licking his skin and causing no harm. He was on top of her, his arms wrapped around her throat, his fingers digging dipper in her flesh, searing it red hot. It was all she could do to move in the right direction, or simply allow him to move her in the right direction. A few midguided steps and he bent her over the railing of the well, leaning on top of her and pushing her down with his brute strength. She jerked away from him with little success, further bringing him down with her to the mouth of the water-hole. If she was going down, he was drowning with her.

His fingers slowly uncurled and moved away from her throat, noticing the water undeneath. The air returned to her lungs, but she could hardly breath with all of that smoke inside. She collapsed on the floor at his feet, leaning against the well. Their plan failed, and now there was no way to stop the monster coming after them.

The audacity, to try and drown him, was unthinkable. This deserved an even worse punishment than the other one - oh, he remembered the other one - standing there shaking, hurling insults at him. Forgotten he was, but his legends proved real - and he came down hard on her, searing her flesh, ripping it away bit by bit.

'I will make you eat it', he screamed, 'I will make you devour your very flesh'.

 

[Frission]

The smell of blood seeped through everything

Shenshen ran down the hallways of the deep underground under the compound, leaving a small trail of blood behind him. He was badly bleeding and he would be lucky if he had a single undamaged internal organ. He coughed and hid behind a mound of opiates and collapsed, hands still holding a bloodied sword and revolver. He spasmed and spit out something hard onto his mouth. Shenshen grimly looked at his blood covered hand and the little piece of flesh it held. Despite his medical knowledge he didn't know what it was, and could only hope that it wasn't something too important. Shenshen's brand of immortality made him extremely hardy, even among the standards of other immortals. He could survive and regenerate from wounds that would "kill" any other immortal and he even in this state he could still fight. Even so, his immortality had it's limits and he was only human in his other capacities, and what could a man do against a monster?

Shenshen coughed once more and tried to understand what had happened. He had seen Ali and Shanna charge forward into the battle before Shenshen could say anything, but before he could chase after them the ground suddenly shook and Shenshen had felt a presence he hadn't felt in a very long time.

"You've gotten slow."

Shenshen got up, startled and scrutinized the are around him. Nothing. Still the area was too small for him to defend himself properly, Shenshen got up and continued his route through the underground concourse. A figure with red eyes watched him from the shadows.

___________________________________________________________

Shenshen had taken the name "Hamza Fâkih" when he had first met the men known as Vlad III of Wallachia, Vlad Tepes otherwise known posthumously as Vlad the Impaler.

Legends of his determination and cruelty had spread across eastern Europe and Shenshen still believes that he had never seen a face in the past or future, as twisted with pure hate like Vlad's decapitated head in the court of the Sultan
___________________________________________________________

Shenshen narrowly dodged a crate which crashed on the wall behind him, raining splinters over his body, but otherwise leaving him unharmed for once. In retaliation Shenshen fired a volley in the general direction from where the crate was thrown and missed the Vampire. The darkness camouflaged Vlad well and Shenshen could barely see in front of him. Shenshen gave a grunt of dissatisfaction as he realized that Vlad had once again escaped. Vlad had found a clever way to neutralize Shenshen's talents as a marksman.

Shenshen muttered under his breath "Running away again you damned leech?" Vlad was using hit and run tactics on him, preferring to avoid direct combat as long as Shenshen was still able to fight. Shenshen needed to calm down, or he would fall to Vlad's scheme. Vlad was strong and fast and Shenshen would need to keep his wits about him if he hoped to win.

Shenshen opened his bag and searched for supplies while constantly on the lookout for any signs of someone sneaking up on him.
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Shenshen only realized later on that he had spoken with a German accent, even after saying that he was Dutch. No matter, those who had been suspicious has been charmed by the knowledge of this "Van Hellsing". It was easy for any immortal to impersonate an intellectual.

"Van Hellsing." Shenshen turned and looked behind him. It was Dracula's lover, hidden beneath several shawls. She had a curious expression on her face and Shenshen would always wonder what must have gone through her mind throughout this moment. Shenshen realized that he had asked a terrible service from her, but...

"It has to done for the good of humanity" Shenshen said with as much conviction as he could. He turned towards the stricken figure in front of him.

Vlad III of Wallachia, Vlad Tepes, Vlad the Impaler otherwise known as the monster Dracula glared at the two figures in front of him. His eyes bulged, his mouth parted in an animal snarl, showing his bloody teeth. His breathing was labored and he could only whisper something, trans-pierced as he was by several wooden stakes.
Shenshen was able to catch "N-N-Ne-Never fo-forg-", but slid the lid of the coffin onto Vlad before the man could finish his curse.

___________________________________________

Shenshen stood still in the hallway waiting until he heard Vlad alight behind him. "Giving up so soon? Then I'll finally have my vengeance". Before Vlad could pounce on him however Shenshen pressed the switch to the detonator in his hand, a tool he had brought along for a situation like this. The underground hallway crumpled behind them and Shenshen used the newfound light to shoot as his foe with a rifle he had managed to steal in the chaos. Vlad shocked by the explosion and the sudden appearance of light was helpless under Shenshen's furious assault. There was an order to things after all. The vampire hunter hunts his prey.

Vlad gave a cry of pain and Shenshen took this opportunity to get closer and finish him off. Vlad still had some fight in him however and waited until Shenshen got close enough to pounce on him, knocking both men back into the darkness of the compound's underground, after a brief scramble Shenshen lodged his foot on Vlad's stomach and kicked him off.

Vlad just elegantly floated back to the ground then charged at Shenshen, while yelling triumphantly "There's no one whom you can use to betray me now you snake!". Shenshen meanwhile took out a curved sword and attacked Vlad with broad sweeping slashes "Remember this, monster? The Sultan said it was the very same sword they used to put you down!"

Both men tore each other apart, their faces distorted by hate. In the midst of their fight a single figure came. It was time for Naditabirus to choose a side.

 

[drmigit2]

Naditabirus? house in Baghdad was solitary, to be frank. It was a secret, none of the other immortals were allowed to know about it, what she did there, how she got there, who came in and who came out. It was where she preformed her research, aided her allies and preformed her experiments. She was able to escape the clutches of Marco inside it, even his reach had limits and she was infinitely more clever than he was, even with all of the man?s quickly growing connections. Even with the steady decline of her home, and Europe?s fast growth toward what Baghdad once was, it was still her home. Her Babylon. That was why when Shen came knocking on her front door, Naditabirus was more than a little surprised.

He was carrying a heavy looking wooden coffin, dragged to the house by a donkey. She knew why he was there. He also knew that she would be inside, there was no way for her to avoid this. Naditabirus opened the door and faked a smile.

?Shen! How good it is to see you today.? He did not talk, instead he simply walked into her living room and placed the coffin on her floor. Naditabirus brought him some tea, and they sat down.

?Naditabirus, do you know what is inside this box?? The hunter began and she shook her head. She hoped that he was not inside, she really really hoped that this was not just for gloating purposes.

?Inside this coffin, is air.? Shen continued, ?I think it is obvious to you what I want. I also know that you have very little desire to reveal anything to me. Or anyone, for that matter.? Shen took a sip of his tea and continued. ?The club is willing to forgive your transgressions, in hiding a fugitive and aiding in his activities prior to our investigations. On the condition that you tell me where he is. I know you are aware of his location.?

Naditabirus let her tea grow cold and leaned back in her chair. ?I have no idea where he went. He wouldn?t tell me, just that he would return eventually after he disposed of you. I don?t think you will be putting him in that coffin anytime soon, I am afraid.?

Shen smiled wryly. ?Well, that we can both agree upon. This coffin is not for the Impaler, I am afraid.? Shen stared at Naditabirus with cold focused eyes and watched as she reached for a needle.

?Even if that worked,? Shen continued ?I am not the only one hunting him at the moment. There will be others, your house?s location has been relayed to everyone, and the entire club will pounce on you if I don?t return. So, Lich, what will it be??

________________________________________________

Naditabirus sold Vlad out that day, she gave up where he was, what he was doing, what alias he was under. The club pretended that they had figured it out on their own, but Naditabirus knew Vladimir could smell the ashes of their old home as she burned it. It was no longer safe, she would have to be more cautious in the future. The one regret she truly had, was not being there to comfort him as they put the lid on his coffin. She was afraid of what he would say, but she never did get to tell him goodbye.

Naditabirus stared Vlad and Shen down with a tinge of indecision. Her wounds had mostly healed by now, a side effect of the adrenaline she took. It made everything move faster, from her brain, to her body, to her body?s regeneration. Though she had counted fifteen minutes since she injected it. Only five left before she went into withdrawal. Naditabirus pointed the gun at Vladimir, currently trying to get a lunge in on Shen. The Lich felt an air of confidence inside as she aimed directly at the Impaler?s head.

?Vlad!? She called and he instinctively ducked as she fired her revolver, moving clear out of the bullet's path, and allowing it to instead pierce the hunter?s skull. Even with all of his abilities, a bullet in the brain was still temporarily fatal, and Shen crumpled to the floor. Naditabirus holstered her pistol and without emotion sat down on top of a pile of narcotics to allow the effects of her adrenaline to wear off gradually, instead of all at once. There was no emotion inside of her anymore. Vladimir?s laughter was all that she could hear.

 

[JoJo]

Cadeyrn whistled happily as he walked along the edge of new theme park, it's high metal fence gleaming in the evening sun. He'd spent the entire day enjoying it's contents and had to admit it almost met his expectations. While the sharks were somewhat smaller than he'd hoped for, the roller-coaster creakier than he'd intended and the lava appeared to be more painted plaster than molten rock, it had a certain charm he couldn't avoid. The wild dreams he'd drawn out one night were now reality in front of him, and he thought that was pretty cool, personally.

"I like it," Cadeyrn said to Javier Borge, who was following anxiously besides him.

"So you won't..?" he asked hesitantly.

"Nah,"

"Phew," the engineer sighed in relief, "I'm glad it meets your standards, it was rather hard to get that many loops in..."

The pair approached the gates of the park, Cadeyrn blinked when he saw that his bodyguards has disappeared from their posts. Instead a crowd of ordinary people had gathered outside the entrance, waving placards angrily. When they saw him angry shouts arose and they seemed to rise up against the gate, as if they were trying to flow over it.

"Down with Debayle!" "We want bread!" "Death to the dictator's spawn!"

"What the hell?" Cadeyrn exclaimed and quickly ducked behind a building, Javier following him.

"Looks like they've surrounded the whole park," he said dumbly, pointing around the perimeter. Another group of ragged people were at the back gate, apparently trying to cut through with some sort of welder.

"Shit shit shit!" Cadeyrn cursed. He might be immortal but he knew from experience that being caught in the middle of an angry mob could be a painful experience and he didn't want to think about what might happen if he was separated into several parts, not after what happened in ancient Rome. He turned in desperation to the engineer.

"What do we do? You've got to get me out of here! We could have used the helicopter if my stupid guards hadn't vanished..."

"Well, from my days in the army I can fly..." the engineer started nervously. Cadeyrn rounded on him in a moment.

"What we waiting for, let's go!" he cried.

"But, but..." Javier stuttered, "Why should I? You threatened to throw me to the sharks, I should just leave you here!"

"I wasn't really going to," the boy sighed in exasperation, "You aren't going to let them kill me are you?" he added quickly, widening his eyes innocently. The engineer's expression softened, as they almost always did.

"Well... I suppose..."

"I have friends with money, they'll pay you. Lots," Cadeyrn interjected, thinking of his companions in the Immortal's Club. He hoped they would still be around where the spies had told him, otherwise it might take a long time to bump into the elusive lot.

"Fine," the Javier shrugged anxiously, "Let's go then,"

"You go ahead," Cadeyrn quipped, "I've got something in the office I need to get first,"

The engineer hurried off and then Cadeyrn tore down the empty steet, checking over his shoulder every few moments to see if the mob had broken through yet. Finally he reached the offices of the theme park, a small building that was mainly still an empty concrete block but inside was something important to him. He squeezed through a partly open door and landed in the room with a bump. Suddenly the door swung shut behind him with a menacing clang.

"Going somewhere, my young friend?" Colonel Larios smirked as he emerged from the shadows.

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

Huitzilopochtli was upon her in an instant. The God of War reared an arm and brought his fist upon Ali as she was finishing off a cartel member. Caught off guard, Ali was flung into a concrete wall at full speed. The shock of the impact numbed her temporarily as several bones were broken upon impact. Ali fell onto the ground after being stuck to the wall like a fly. She could hear Huitzilopochtli laughing with glee as he strode over to her, confident in his victory when clarity had finally reached Ali. With her unbroken arm, she reached into her pocket and found the talisman that she brought from Tibet.

The talisman was small in her bloodied hands but with a shaking hand she held it close to her face. Huitzilopochtli was close to her now. She could hear his footsteps even with all the chaos going on around them.

"By the love of the divine beings..." Ali said, mumbling into the talisman as Huitzilopochtli got closer. "The Glory of the Ten Powers shall be bestowed to one that is their blood." The talisman melted into her skin. Ali no longer felt pain as she felt the powers embrace her.

Ali was consumed with light, bathing the surrounding area with beams of light. Huitzilopochtli covered his eyes and by the time he lowered it, Ali's body was shining with pure light. Anyone nearby had to cover their eyes or else they risked being blinded by the light. Where she stood, the sand had turned into glass and concrete was scorched black. Men who looked upon her fell to the ground in pain as their vision had been blinded.

"The time of Gods is over." Ali said with a voice transcending all languages and dialects. She leaped at the God of War delivering her powerful own punch to Huitzilopochtli.

 

[TheIronRuler]

There was a smell of burning flesh in his nostrils, screams of agony in his ears, thick mist of blood and smoke in his mouth. It was the familiar feeling of a battle, and he was all too familiar with it. He had been the greatest, the sun of the world, to him was the sword which drew first blood and the heart sacrificed in the first day of the festival. He was Huitzilopochtli, the proudest of the Gods, the most powerful being imaginable, but his power was robbed of his by the outsiders. He was humiliated and forgotten, left to die and crawl to the big sleep.

Blood turned black in his veins. His eyes buldged outwards, giving him the eery appearance of something not human. His size grew with the course of the battle, and when all around him mortals died he only grew stronger. That was until a heretic entered the fray and used a device most curious. Healed of the wounds he had affflicted in an instant, hammered him off his feet and landed him on his back. His right side burned and ached, but blood refused to leak out of his gaping wound, several ribs were cracked and torn away, and the muscles underneath pulsed with agony. It was good to finally meet a worthy adversary.

Bring on the Pain

The ribs cracked back, the muscles were covered with a black liquid. He stood up and cocked his head to the right, curiously eyeing the immortal in front of him. There was something different about her - no worries, he wouldn't have to dwell on it too much. She will be dead soon enough. The black liquid flowed outwards, hardening and covering his side. There was a pause, a single moment where everything felt right, and the next he was holding a slim iron bar wedged inside the woman's torso. He leaned forward, sniffing her hair, then pulled back and viciously took a bite out of her nose. He didn't run as much as dance with the rythm of battle - it was his life, his death, his everything to him. He swallowed the cartilidge and flesh whole, a set of reddish teeth glowing at Ali straight in her face.

 

[Baddamobs]

"I'll ask again: where is the alchemist!"

For the second time in a row, all the Immortal got in reply was a incoherent babble of pleas and begging.

Screecher had thought she had hit a lucky streak when she had burst into a room and found a guard who looked barely even into adulthood cowering in a corner, their weapon discarded as they pressed their eyes into their drawn up knees. Screecher could hardly blame them, though that hadn't meant she showed much mercy when she had grabbed their assault rifle and started interrogating the poor sod.

"Last chance! You don't speak some sense, I'll draw a map in your brain matter splattered across the wall!" The ex-owl screwed the rifle's barrel against the guard's shaking temple.

That got them talking, albeit in a rushed and barely helpful fashion. Screecher eventually gathered that prisoners were generally kept in the basement, and the 'pig farm' wasn't too far beyond. Unfortunately, getting to the only staircase down there meant a trip across most of the compound. Definitely not what the Immortal wanted to hear, but never the less she simply socked the guard across the jaw, and quickly made her way from the room. If they had even half a idea of sense, they would get out of the quickly burning building, though that wasn't Screecher's problem.

Screecher's heart thundered in her chest as she quickly moved down dilapidated corridor after dilapidated corridor, every sense feeling painfully fine tuned. Her hearing picked up every scream and gun shot, her nose smelt the stench of burning woodwork, her fingers gripped the two weapons she awkwardly carried, and her eyes-

...Alright, every sense but her eye sight, that was still only running on 50%. Still the Immortal hoped that was good enough to shoot a gun, because she had a feeling she was going to need all the accuracy she could get.

She pressed herself against a corner wall when she heard a shout from the other side, and cautiously leaned out to peek. She looked just in time to see, in the middle of plus shaped intersection of corridors, several cartel members frantically firing, while also beating a hasty retreat. It became clear from what, as not a second after they had dived down a already shot to hell hallway, several figures dressed in far less filthy clothing followed behind, expertly moving as a unit as they chased down their fleeing targets. The way they handled both their weapons as well as the way they moved as one without so much as speaking a word, all suggested a well trained and disciplined killing force.

... Naditabirus certainly keeps strange bedfellows...

Knowing she would have to grill the odd Immortal the next time they met, Screecher pressed on, creeping down through the building once the shooting between the two groups grew silent. Whether this was because they were now too far away to differentiate between all of the other gunfights or one side now stood victorious was up to debate.

Once she was sure of her temporary safety, Screecher allowed her thoughts to turn to the other Club members. She realized now, after the initial rush of returning to life had left her, she had essentially abandoned them to fight two demi-god like beings. True, she struggled in fights enough that she doubted staying would have contributed much, but to just run off like that had been...slightly underhanded.

Still, you can apologies later, when you have Mahmod safely found and caught. Of course, apology or no, they'll have to be prepared to pay the right price. Screecher gave herself a small grin, despite the circumstances. Club economics don't allow for altruism, after all, hehehe...

The ex-avian took stock of her surroundings, having just turned the corner in a long L shaped corridor. The metal door to her immediate left (at the bottom of the L) looked to be fairly new and reinforced. Perhaps this lead to the basement? Certainly felt like she had walked across the entire bloody base, though that might be because every meter felt like a mile with all the death around her.

Of course, instead of being greeted with a staircase when she opened the door a crack, she was instead greeted with several gun pointed at her.

Letting out a (embarrassing) 'eep,' Screecher threw herself from the door just as what had to be three assault rifles and a goddamn shotgun tore the door frame apart. She scrambled on all fours, twisting around to point her own rifle at the door when she was a good distance away.

A piece of debris peeled off what was originally a doorway, as all involved were still and silent. Screecher ever so slowly stood back to her feet, her eye never leaving the door for a second. Despite the sounds of distant battle, it felt like she could have heard a pin drop.

...Something tells me they're not going to be the ones to make a move...

Screecher had only had a glance, but she thought she understood the situation: what looked to a be a group of about four gunmen (of which faction, she couldn't tell) had holed up, sandbagged behind what might have been a table. Most likely, they were just waiting a respectable distance from the door, and weren't planning to come out anytime soon. Screecher didn't want to risk even running past the door just in case she was clipped on the way, and a direct attack was out of the question, which just left...

Hope my depth perception was TOO screwed up...

Trying to estimate the distance from the door to the table being used as cover from the corridor wasn't easy, but she was certain she could hear something through the flimsy plaster walls. Taking a deep breath, she leveled her weapon at the wall, hoped that she wasn't making a mistake, and pulled the trigger.

The clip only took a moment to empty; Screecher spraying left and right just to be sure. Several screams erupted from the other side. In no time, the Immortal was left holding a spent weapon.

Dropping it unceremoniously to the floor, Screecher quickly stepped around the corridor again, readying her revolver. Just three bullets. She prayed that she wouldn't need any.

She looked through one of the many holes in the wall in the door. If there was any one still breathing in there, it wasn't immediately apparent. Carefully, the Immortal stepped into the room, gun up and breathing slowed. Just a few steps in, and she could tell her plan had had it's intended effect.

Two of the rifle wielders were already dead, one slumped in the corner behind a felt chair, the other spread eagle behind the up turned table with several bullets in their chest. One was struggling, both hands desperately pressed against their stomach, groaning as they shook. Judging by all three's attire, they were most likely members of the cartel, and were probably common foot soldiers. The survivor didn't have a chance to look up at the Immortal before Screecher raised her pistol, and watched impassively as the bullet carved a path cleanly through the injured figure's head. She had just experienced a wound like that not too long ago: if the guard wasn't lung shot, they were definitely no where near any medical facilities. Despise them as she did, Screecher saw no point prolonging the mortal's suffering. A mortal's life was already futile enough with it's last moments being spent in pain.

She finally turned to the final figure, and was somewhat surprised to see them actually perfectly alive. Well, he had several bullet wounds in his arms and one in his leg, but compared to his friends, this one had clearly got off easy.

Actually... Now that Screecher looked, this man was much better dressed, and obviously more well fed then every other mortal in the room. And his weapon, a fairly bulky pump action shotgun, looked brand new compared to the rather grubby and beat up rifles of the rest of the squad. I do believe I found the brains of this operation...

Absolute fury burned out of the man's eyes as Screecher approached, weapon aimed steadily at the injured man's head.

"Give me a name." Screecher kept her tone neutral.

"Papa Montezeno." Montezeno spat, his teeth grit. "My men will find you. If you kill me, they'll find you, and rip your heart out!"

"Really?" Screecher took a meaningful glance at the compound leader's dead entourage. "Because if you ask me, I think your soldiers should be more concerned with learning to survive in a gun fight, rather then kill in one."

"I..." The drug baron took a minute, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply for a long few seconds. "What do you want? Name a price, and I'll pay, just let me live."

"There's a person under your employ under of the title of 'Ceutan.'" Screecher squatted down, barrel of her weapon pressed against the flinching Montezeno's head. "Tell me where to find him, and I'll consider letting you live."

"Ceutan!" The drug baron's eye's nearly bulged out of their sockets, and his mouth fell into a snarl. "All of this shit started when that bastard got here! I knew that he was going to cause trouble, I God damn knew it!"

"You tell me where he is, and I'll gladly take him off your hands." Screecher couldn't help the smirk that came onto her features. "Besides, it's not like he's a whole lot of use to you now; what's an alchemist without his lab?"

The aging man stopped at that, taking moment to look around the room, around at his dead fighters, at the still smoking bullet holes. Screecher thought he also probably saw beyond the room, to the chaos still occurring near the front of the compound, and the fire slowly spreading from there. His head flopped down.

"...He's probably still in the basement. If he hasn't already ran for it, he'll be there." Montezeno's voice was filled with exhaustion. "Just take him and get the fuck out of my country..."

Screecher stood back to her feet, preparing to do just that, before a thought came to her. She had the biggest supplier of drugs and narcotics for the entire region lying before her. Montezeno was, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the biggest sifter's of illegal goods for most of this part of the country, and definitely one of the more violent merchants of such. One of the most powerful and influential drug baron's was just before her.

And she had a loaded gun in her hands.

Screecher regarded the gun in her hands. It wasn't of any distinctive make, and the name and serial number had long ago been eroded through time and weather. The grip was almost non-existent, Screecher was pretty sure the sight was slight off, and it looked ready to fall apart at any moment.

How odd, that something so unimpressive could hold so much power over life and death...

Montezeno yelped like a kicked dog when the Immortal leveled her sights on him once again.

"W-wait! You said-"

"I said I would consider." Screecher's voice of full of determination, and a ire building just behind her one dull-amber eye. "And you know what I have considered? It's pathetic filth like you that make mortal-kind so fucking pitiful."

"Wh...what-"

"It's bad enough that you have the life span of a flea!" Screecher stepped forward, gun barrel colliding with the terrified mortal's forehead. "But it's dirt like you that cut that even shorter, either by just directly killing your own kind, or making them so dead to the world they might as well be."

The drug baron had seen some weird stuff in his time, but he would admit, he had no idea what the hell this psycho was rattling about.

"I've no love for humanity." Screecher continued, subdued. "You're all going to be your own dooms, one way or another. If I had my way, I'd just leave you to your own devices and just watch the fallout, if I'm honest. But I'm going to make an exception for today."

Montezeno's eyes widened as the hammer of the gun was drawn back.

"When you see that bastard of a gate keeper, tell them the proud one sent you."

He opened his mouth, whether to protest or scream or beg, it isn't clear.

Two gunshots, swallowed up by so many others, sounded from that out of the way office.

Screecher left no long after, a fully loaded shotgun in had. With a sort of calmness in her step, Screecher turned down the hall.

She was probably going to need a drink.

 

[JoJo]

Cadeyrn turned around slowly to face Colonel Larios, the soldier grinned malevolently at him as he deftly locked the office door with the twist of a key and deposited it deep into a pocket.

"Enjoy the little party I arranged for you outside?" he asked gleefully.

"How did you know I'd come here?" Cadeyrn replied angrily.

"Oh, I've been keeping an eye on you for a while, you thought your bodyguards were working for you because they wanted to?" Larios smirked, "I know what you've been keeping here, don't be shy,"

Cadeyrn walked backwards slowly and put his hand into the drawer behind him, his hand clutching at the precious trinket that had been on his mind.

"What do you want?" he asked defiantly, looking his enemy in the eye.

"What do I want?" the Colonel chuckled, "I don't want to live in a country ruled by a dying man and his adopted brat, for one. That and maybe knowing the secret of your immortality would be nice, too,"

"I've told you before," Cadeyrn grunted through gritted teeth, "It's a curse given to just me, I couldn't tell you how to be immortal even if I wanted to,"

"Oh yes, the fairies," Larios replied with a roll of his eyes, "It's time to grow up Cadeyrn, fairies aren't real. Debayle might have fallen for your lies but I haven't. All that's real right now is you and me in this room." He stepped forward, drawing a long knife from inside his coat. The boy caught a quick glance of several other possessions under the man's garments, particularly a pistol, a blowtorch and a grenade. "Tell me what I need to know, or I'll draw it out of you however I can,"

Cadeyrn yelled as loud as he could and jumped towards the Colonel, his small fist aimed squarely towards the man's groin. Larios twisted at the last moment however and the boy impacted into his leg, spinning off onto the floor in a heap. The Colonel put his foot on Cadeyrn's back and then screamed a moment later as the boy slipped from his grasp and sink his teeth deep into his leg.

"You little fucker!" he screamed, kicking Cadeyrn off back onto the floor on his back. He put his hand against the boy's throat, holding him down against the wooden floorboards. "No more games!" he spat, "Tell me or it'll be your eye first!"

"I..." Cadeyrn gasped for breath, holding up his left hand weakly in triumphant, "I win!"

Colonel Larios stared in horror as the grenade Cadeyrn had plucked moments earlier from his belt rolled from the boy's outstretched hand, it's pin lying dully on the floor. He turned back to Cadeyrn to give him one final glare of surprise and hatred before the grenade clicked and then the pair were blown to pieces.

~​

Javier peered nervously through the cockpit windows for any sign of his young charge, the angry mob had broken through the gates some time ago and set upon the park's attractions with gusto. He sighed, it was almost like a metaphor for life. Build up something great with what limited time you have, and then watch it be torn down by forces beyond your control.

He was suddenly snapped out of his train of thought by a small figure tapping on the cockpit window. He recoiled at the sight of the blood-smeared and dirty shadow, their clothes torn to loose sheets of cloth hanging off their body, before realising who they was.

"What happened to you down there?" the engineer exclaimed as he opened the door to let Cadeyrn in.

"I'll explain later," the boy replied quickly, something golden briefly flashing in his blackened hands, "Let's just go,"

Javier steered the helicoptor upwards and then away, Cadeyrn looked dejectedly through the window as his theme park was smashed, looted and burned by the protesters below him. A solitary tear ran down his smeared cheek, which he hastily wiped away as he turned back to the pilot-engineer.

"We can't go back to Managua, it's too dangerous now,"

"Where else can we go though?"

"North, until we get to Mexico. Some of my friends are there, they can help us," Cadeyrn said more confidently than he felt, he only hoped the spies who had been working for him hadn't been feeding him false information too.

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

Teeth gnawed at her face, tearing away her nose but she felt no pain. In her state, pain was merely an illusion so Ali didn't bat an eye as a portion of her face continued to be gnawed off. Instead, she drew her arm back and grabbed Huitzilopochtli by the throat. The smell of her burning touch filled the air as she lifted him off the ground before sending a massive punch into the God's midsection to throw him back once more. She drew the metal pole that was lodged in her stomach, the metal melted in her hands as she drew it out with blood leaking out of her gaping wounds but to Ali, the pain didn't exist.

"Gods no longer exist." Ali taunted. "We will take your place."

She quietly charged the downed God with one hand cocked back ready to deliver the final blow.

 

[TheIronRuler]

It was snowing all around him, coarse and thick droplets of dry snow flowing through the air in their futile attempt to escape the flames. What they should have been running away from was the behemoth standing right in the middle of the storm, watching with glee as more of the matter flowed around him. It came in with every breath, settling on his clothes and naked flesh. His skin tingled with the marvelous sensation it brought him and his mind raced forward on a wave of cocaine. Sweet uncut and beautiful snow drifting in the air, enveloping Isaac in a blizzard of happiness. How he had forgotten his woes and plunged deeper into the abyss of the Narcotics. The same opiates which cut off the pain so many times in vastly different places, always but not exactly the same comforting embrace. It was today he needed it most to take the edge off, yet it was the beginning of an even worse trip down memory lane and a bloody one at that.

First were the Romans who came to him holding rusty rifles yelling and protecting their drugs. Then came the Greeks, shooting at him as he left the white room and calling for help. The Muslims came soon after that, the air cleared up and the sky above opened wide, and he saw the French raining down missiles on his poor head. The Spaniards were next, trying to tie him down and burn him alive, and the Russians with their witches and bearded monks... He fazed in and out of bliss, long enough to take care of what was happening right in front of him. He came out of his trance long enough to witness a most terrible battle, one he had not seen in hundreds of years.

[hr]2[/hr]

She shrugged his pain as if it was nothing passing around her, and instead of giving in to the terror of war charged forward and gulped the sweet juices of death. She was abnormal beyond his understanding, a wielder of some unspecified power he couldn't call by name. It didn't matter - he would still have her soul. Her fist came crashing down square in his face, chipping away right cheek and with it tearing a third of his face. The right side of his jaw hung lazily by a few threads of flesh, his eye nearly popped out of its socked with the force of the blow. The God of War was flung back nearly all the way to the other side of the compound, screaming obscenities in a long dead tongue. He landed in a pit of fire and death, among several other corpses, but instead of consuming him it gently licked his flesh. His kin had not forgotten him after all, and quickly the flames pressed on his face and consumed it, searing away the blood and flesh, turning his figure into a most terrifying boogeyman. You don't live life without having regrets, and this one was one of those. He regretted not killing that ***** the first time he saw her.

He felt the battle subsiding all around him as the bodies piled up and the winners were decided. The cries of the dead surged through him as were the sounds of bullets piercing flesh and fire eating away at hopes and dreams - he was still alive, still powerful, but one thing had changed - he was truly angry.

There was a moment of silence, a lull in the fighting when Isaac stared slack-jawed at Ali. He was covered in blood and guts, cocaine whitening the rest of him untouched by human remains. His heart was pumping at a rate faster than a honey-bird and his eyes darting for a sign of prey.

'I can't stop', he pleaded her, his body shaking uncontrollably, 'Help'. His salvation came soon to his rescue when the God of War himself dropped on down from the heavens and delivered a mighty blow. Bones cracked at the impact, and Isaac came tumbling down, his raised forearm snapped in half, held together by exposed and pulsating muscles. He was standing on top of him, his deformed smile staring at him with glee for another one will be claimed by him. Isaac kicked him from the ground, sending him to his knees. It was the perfect opportunity for Ali to strike, had he not disappeared into the rhythm of war and danced away, eagerly approaching her from behind and delivered a bone-shattering blow, the force of the impact sending her on top of Isaac's slumped body.

'Let me have him', he begged her, 'Let me have him'.

The situation was dire - even though the relic enhanced Ali's powers, it was still not powerful enough to stop the God of War. The immortals needed help and a way out of the mess they got themselves into.

[hr]2[/hr]

'How do we get out?', Mahmod was hiding behind a brick wall, one of the few in the compound, whispering to the Templar at his left. He was peeking to the corridor leading outside, which was littered with guards. Smoke traveled down below and fire began to consume the ceilings. There wasn't much time left for the two.

'We can't go that way', Gerome turned back to face Mahmod, 'They will get you'.

'If we stay here we will be buried alive', Mahmod shot back, 'I will risk it, as long as we get out'.

'I won't let you do that', Gerome insisted, 'We can't go back the way I came in. It's blocked'.

'There has to be a way-', Mahmod held Gerome,his hand feeling the pulsating muscles of his left arm underneath.

'There's a way alright'.

A woman was standing next to them, a sick grin on her face. Ameretat was tired of all the running and taking orders from a bunch of idiots, but this plan was hers to begin with. She was supposed to rescue Allanque - that useless star-gazing immortal from the plains - but she had a better idea on what to do.

'Memnon is still alive, and so is Tut. They are sending their regards', Ameretat spilled the beans right away, giving up the veil of mystique surrounding her. 'I am old and they need me, and I need you-', she pointed at Mahmod. 'You will work for me from now on', Ameretat bent down to look at the two confused immortals, 'although I don't need that man'. Her hand was already holding Gerome by his throat, pinning him down on the wall behind him with great force. This seemed ridiculous - she couldn't kill him, he would just come back alive - but Mahmod knew better.

'Ameretat', he whispered with great awe. He had studied about her in his old books, a figure of legend, a metaphor to his condition, no more. Yet she was real, and she was there, trying to kill his beloved.

'Stop', he shouted, 'Let him come with me and I agree'. Her hand let go and Gerome breathed in with a sigh of relief.

'Perfect'.

 

[JoJo]

Spoiler

"What's going on down there?" Javier shouted to Cadeyrn over the roar of the blades as the pair flew over what strongly resembled a warzone, the ant-like figures below moving around the compound franticly. Some of the buildings were ablaze and several columns of smoke had drifted upwards to around the height that the helicopter now flew through.

"It's my friends!" Cadeyrn replied excitedly as he recognised the shapes of some of the immortals below him, "They're fighting some other people though, I don't know why," he added somewhat crestfallen.

"So, we're going to turn back around and fly away right? I mean, a stray bullet could hit the fuselage and then..." the engineer said nervously. Cadeyrn bounded up to him and grabbed onto his shirt menacingly before the man could continue.

"No, we're going right in there and we're not going to leave until everyone is safe and all the enemies are dead. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Javier swallowed and with a thrust of the controls sent the helicoptor into a spin so it would pass back over the battlefield. Cadeyrn quickly hopped into the machine gun pod and peered eagerly down at the tiny dots who were rapidly increasing in size.

"Ready!" he gritted his teeth as the helicoptor swept down over the figures and a hail of bullets was unleashed on the unsuspecting victims below. Cadeyrn was almost thrust out of his seat by the recoil and the gun swerved sideways, spraying a wide arc across much of the compound, "Sorry if I hit any of you!" he shouted to the immortal's below, though whether they'd hear his high-pitched voice above the din of the aircraft he didn't know.

 

[Baddamobs]

Screecher reflected, after two failed attempts to kick the door down, it was probably just a pull door.

Ripping the rusty steel door open with a mixture of agitation and sheepishness, the ex-bird leveled her weapon to the room shouting,

"Everyone on their knees!"

The empty and dead end room seemed to judge the Immortal in it's silence.

Screecher cursed, quickly scanning all four corners. She had been wandering around like a headless chicken for who knows how long, and had only just found this mixture of a torture room/pig pen. Apart from the blood on the floor, and various scuff marks that suggested a struggle, the room was empty. Even the pig pen was void of it's bounty, though Screecher couldn't determine if they had been simply taken away before this chaos had started, or were indeed now accidentally running amok around the compound. Either way, she had bigger concerns, for the main point:

Where the HELL is Mahmod?!

If the Club's private alchemist had been here, he was long gone by this point. Their attack on this drug den must have provided an chance for him to escape, and he was making good on it. Unless they searched the entire place top to bottom, they were going to struggle to find him, and if the increased sound of gun fire and the smell of fire was to go by, the Immortals didn't have that luxury for time right now.

Cursing again, the half blind Immortal fled the room, quickly remounting the stairs that led out of the basement. It looked like Screecher's golden opportunity wasn't going to be achievable this instance.

Twice in a god damn row...

She hadn't even come close to the knife; just arriving as Shenshen was making plans to give chase and Issac was collapsing from a mixture of drink and exhaustion. After the funeral, a part of her had been tempted to follow behind the hunter Immortal, and look for a chance to steal away with the knife, but she had swiftly dismissed the idea. She could do many things, but a global chase? That was too much. Even she had her limits of insane events, despite her extended exposure to the other Club members.

But now, she had let the second chance to get back in good standing with the Club once again slip through her fingers.

Well, third time's the blood charm...

Screecher cautiously peeked around the corner, before crossing down it in a measured pace. It appeared that most of the mortal residents of the compound were either dead or retreating: considering the triple faction assault they had suffered, Screecher couldn't honestly blame them. However that still left the Old-God style Immortals to deal with.

Screecher swallowed down the feeling of bile rising at the back of her throat. She was quickly approaching the front/center of the compound, where not only was the fire the most intense, but was also the site of a pitched battle between Immortal beings. The suffocating smoke was next to nothing compared to the two beings outside.

And Screecher was...

...

Cautious! Yes, that's it. She just felt cautious.

She was just weary of rushing out like a idiot, and was taking her time crouched by the door to think of a battle plan. Someone may have confused her rapid breathing with hyperventilating, but they would be wrong. Naturally.

After all, she was furious at nearly all god like beings! How dare they lord themselves over the lesser of this world? The sooner they were kicked from their precious ivory thrones, the better. If Screecher had her way, she'd be leading the charge.

... Of course, one had to be careful with gods. They had the power to 'affect' the world in a way lesser beings couldn't comprehend. And sometimes, the consequences could be...

Screecher looked down at her dirty and bloody hands. Ten fingers, ten nails. Two sweaty and marked palms.

She didn't need to finish the thought.

Screecher might have stayed crouching next to that door for the rest of the day, had she not heard the unmistakeable sound of,

A helicopter? The Immortal blinked. She didn't have long to ponder the sound before another joined the noise of spinning blades. What could only be some sort of machine gun. ...A gun ship?

Opening the door just enough to twist her head around it, Screecher could only stare with one wide eye as the aircraft laid down heavy fire uncontrollably left and right. While it did seem to have some sense of aim, it also appeared that whoever was shooting was taking the 'spray and pray' approach to their problems. In fact, as the craft started twisting and turning in the air, Screecher could almost make out that the gunner was-

...

...

"No..." Screecher shook her head, disbelief marking her face and voice. "No, it can't be..."

The Immortal ducked as a line of fire was 'accidentally' drawn in the windows above her head, causing Screecher to throw herself back into the building proper to avoid the raining shards of glass. Despite her dynamic escape, the ex-avian still had the time and thought of mind to scream:

"Cadeyrn, you little fae bastard!!"

 

[TheIronRuler]

Spoiler: OOC

Glorious Collab with Mr.I'vebeenframed.

The God of War leaped back at her, striking her from the flank and shattering several ribs before she hit the ground. The pain wasn't there but she began to feel a sense inability as her form struggled to keep shape. Isaac was nearby, begging for the release of death or the fury of the kill but she knew that such an endeavor would leave him pulverized into a bloody pulp. She couldn't sustain her form but she remembered clearly what her parents had said once more about the amulet and its powers.

"The foundation of their love brought them together... as hard as rock." Ali mumbled before her skin started to shift from light into darkness as it began to calcify. From the light came the rock as her skin morphed, forming a rocky exterior akin to a statue. Although her face was featureless, her body mass increased as hard stone replaced her skin. From her fetal position, she rose once more to face the God this time covered in stone.

Despite her lumbering figure, she swung full force at the God.

A strike after the other shattered and shocked his flesh. Stone chipped away from her hardened exterior but the new formed immortal shrugged it off. With every pound of sheer rock came pain so sweet he was unable to ignore. He relished in it, and his blood leaked out in black droplets. It flowed and calcified around him, patching up wounds he wouldn't otherwise sustain.

There was a rhythm to it, but he was tired of following it. It was time to set the pace once more. It was getting increasingly harder to cut through his flesh and every strike aimed at him chipped more stone away than the one before. The sun shined through the mist and bestowed upon him his rightful boon. He awakened from his slumber and fought back - a fist hardened with the thick, black blood of millions smashed through the stone with difficulty. It threw Ali back, and she began to wonder - how is he still standing?

Her stony form could only do so much against the God and even now she began to see the futiliy in trying to outfight the God of War. She had to do something to weaken him and the swirling dust around them gave her an idea. With all her strength she pushed back the God once more, sustaining a few blows in the process. But it succeded and allowed her enough time to start hitting the ground. The impact from her punches began to kick up dirt and sand all around her. The moving particles began to rise up and obscure Ali's vision. A cloud of dirt and sand rose from the ground, clinging to the broken compound.

"Isaac, leave while you can." Ali called out, her humanity coming back as her powers began to wane.

Everything was getting foggy - the air was filled with dirt blocking out the sun. He couldn't still feel her there but something was amiss. The other one was getting away...

'No', the god of war roared, 'you are mine by right'.

Isaac ran off in fear, the crushing feeling of helplessness clouding his judgement.

She could feel the God looking for her, hunting for her amid the dust cloud that had gathered before her. With the chance for respite, Ali found an opportunity to change once more.

"Their passion burned through the mountains between. The flames of their lust split the earth." Ali said in a low whisper. A glow emanated from beneath her skin, pulsating through the cracks of her stony exterior. Like a heartbeat, the pulse grew and grew until her skin was crackling. With a crack, her body shuddered as it changed form once more. Ali's body seemed to crumble, shedding its old skin until a new one was seen glowing with pure heat. This one glowed as hot as lava with the air around Ali sizzling due to the fire. In her fiery form, she spotted the God of War and charged with fiery arms outstretched to consume him.

The flames called on ancient words in a language long dead, forgotten by all sons of Adam. It was a cry of joy and a squeal of pain made with the same shrill, charcoal voice. It called out to those who could hear it, but none could understand the desires and fears of the flames. The cry was answered by another, first an echo and then a summoning - it was another from the lost age, another from time long forgotten. Huehueteotl froze and listened - in his arms were the struggling remains of a once proud immortal, to his back an even more powerful one immobolized by fear. He was the all-powerful Lord of Fire, yet someone dared to challenge his authority.

Flames drove away from the wood at once, possessed by a primal urge to incinerate and herded in a direction by its Lord and Master - it turned away from the wood and the flesh and instead fought against the other claimant to the throne. Huitzilopochtli faced against the flaming woman bravely, but he knew the full extent of his brother's power, and in his heart he dreaded the thought of fighting with such a beast head-on.

Fire fought against fire, and when Ali charged at the Aztec immortal a wave of flames trapped her away from him. Another had joined the frey, leaving behind two shaken immortals.

'You dare defy my dominion?', he screamed in agony as his mind was tortured by a thousand suns, relishing in the joy of pain and the feeling of the flames.

"I am the child of the two lovers. They brought me into this world to snuff you out." Ali said in anger, her powers affecting her temparement. Another God had joined the fray, another that she was born to kill. Now she knew why she was brought into this world. The flames of clarity brought forth the notion which her parents implanted inside the talisman: kill the old Gods

Blinded by the sudden rush of anger and hatred, the red flames on her body turned blue with intensity. Without any delay, Ali charged the new challenger with her blue flames glowing through the yellow flames around her.

The fires clashed and traded blows with the fire spreading throughout the compound in a matter of moments. The God of War, tired of this spectacle and uncaring of his brother jumped into the fray to bring this fight to an end. Little did he know, that was what Ali wanted. The more attention focused on her, the less on the others. The other Immortals had to make out and survive as they always did. Jack was still out there with the knife and they shouldn't be held down like this. This was what Ali wanted.

Despite the heat, the God punched Ali's stomach, cutting it but not disembowling her. A fiery liquid leaked out of her wounds akin to blood but she had to fight on. Now she felt everything. The pain, the fear, the anger and fury rushed through her veins. She recovered her step and spat fire at one God while the other rushed her. His flames consumed her in a blanket, straggling her and sucking the oxygen out of the area around her. Using all her strength, Ali pushed out of the God's trap only to recieve a glancing blow from the other God. Pain and burning filled her with anger but also fulfilment.

She had wandered the Earth all her life in search of purpose and now she found it. The others needed to escape these Gods and now Ali was doing just that. Ali couldn't help but feel the happiest she's ever been. The Gods hounded her, delvering blows and punches but she took it all in. The more attention focused on her the better. Ali always loved attention....

From above, a fire storm raged in the heart of the desert. As the others escaped, they could feel the heat start to boil the air around them but it wasn't the regular kind of heat. It was etheral and no longer natural as an organic energy resonated within the heat as if it were a heartbeat. It increased in resonance and intensity with each second until a tremendous sound was heard. The compound was covered in fire and brimstone, scorching everything and anything inside. Ali was in the middle of it all consuming and being consumed. Anything that could allow the group to escape.