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[h1]Mittria the 14th[/h1]

[color=lightgray]A one-legged woman walked alone at night through the streets of Belleville. More than once, a door opened and a concerned face or voice offered her shelter. Each time, her reply a pleasant Kerreman lilt, she refused. 

Her footsteps - the click of her crutches and the thump of her single boot - seemed almost to echo in the nighttime emptiness, for such was the condition of fear that existed in Belleville these days. She was tall and lithe, with bright blonde hair pulled into a pair of braids that bounced with each step. She hummed as she walked, and it seemed more out of idle innocence than to mask any sort of anxiety.

She wore a pistol on her belt and a knife tucked into her boot. Click - thump - click - thump. She continued to walk. She continued to hum. The only real light was that of the moons. A dog bayed in the distance. An owl took off from a rooftop. There were eyes on the woman, and she knew it. She [i]counted[/i] on it, in fact. This was a job and she was being paid. She'd always had quick reflexes, and, at any moment, she might need them.

A near cat-sized dormouse had been loitering about in the streets, barely distinguishable from a small dog or average feline in the dark. It barely made a noise, only the occasional rat-like squeak to blend in with the locals. It never strayed too far from the squeaky repetition of boots against damp earth trails and the occasional paved path. There was the occasional distraction and the need for a mild spurring, but otherwise it did its duty.

[color=#E5E4E2]“Nothing yet.”[/color] reported Zarina, partially turned with small horns curling out just over her temples, within a safe house to one of her accomplices, sat on a fur-layered couch and sporadically diving into a deep focus before shaking her head. [color=#E5E4E2]“Can't draw either or we'll get burned.”[/color]

The one-legged woman was Anneliese Höfler, and she was no stranger to mortal peril. She'd earned her living as a soldier of fortune since deciding not to marry a man who was mostly sausage grease and bad manners at the age of eighteen, and she was now twenty-eight, thoroughly disowned, and happier than she'd ever been.

She reached out with her magics - though only the most basic sensing - and noticed the rodent scampering after her: part of their safety net. The rest, however, was an act of trust - utter, naked trust. She did not have her rifle or her prosthetic, and could not be certain that the semi-professionals she was working with would cover their sectors properly. [color=red][i]Zarina, Ingrid, Miret, Chad, Liset, Thantra, Tyrel.[/i][/color] She had always been a tall woman and she felt, among them, a dwarf.

She kept walking, pausing only to adjust her belt in front of a great hegelan rooming house with a red door. It was the agreed-upon signal for this checkpoint. She knew that she could trust the girls - Faiza's falcon had been circling overhead for a while, and both Luusi and Fernanda had been in position since midday. Bayar was... doing what she usually did and it was the only reason that Anneliese had agreed to take part.

She began moving, cumbersome in this indecent dress and on crutches, and knew that she was passing from Liset's area to Ingrid's. She did not know the entirety of the plan, and these women were young, but they were strong and she was not stupid and the Old Blood needed to go. It would work. She was Annick, now: Annick Lowenhardt, a familiar enough sight around the Vermillion Swirl and Bath House, but not entirely alien to Belleville for the right price.

[color=red][i]Come on, you bloodthirsty halfwit. I'm everything you want,[/i][/color] she thought at the sanguinaire, even as she did another quick sweep. [color=red][i]Would you let a one-legged whore with such a pitiful capacity walk right by you?[/i][/color]

Bayar Almangedy breathed in calmly, and breathed out. The dew point was high and it came out as a thin white trickle of steam. 

The Captain passed through Ingrid's sector without incident and into Thantra's, but it was neither of them that the Kaganese huntress was tasked with overseeing.

Zarina Al-Nader was a wildblood. It was not difficult to discern. She was a wildblood and those were shifty allies at best, ready to turn at the light of a moon. 

She was in a dozen different places at once: little circles of illumination where she had left some of her colony in a vast magical darkness. With these, she not only tracked the tracker, but also an ally that the Captain was given to mistrust greatly. Anneliese's leg hadn't severed itself and Haurah had not disappeared on her own, after all. 

It was roundabout the time when their bait had passed from Thantra's sector into Miret's that Bayar noticed something: a persistent energy signature - not large enough to be alarming, but consistent in its high speed and loose adherence to the Captain's position: always just at the very edge of sensing range for someone of high capacity. She signaled back to Miret just as Anneliese passed into one of Bayar's blindspots.

it was under these circumstances that the unusually large rodent following Anneliese at a discreet distance may have noticed that energy too. Now, the question was: could he connect that with a visual and solid proof, and would they be able to get a warning to the Captain on time?

Nibbler's role was simple, report any anomaly to the boss, and the boss was Zarina. With the abnormality considered, the rodent's master could peer through the lens of her beast to assess the situation in a more hands-on manner. 

Indeed, there was something far too powerful at the edge of the drawing range. With confirmation of an initial suspicion, it came down to whether Zarina or Nibbler was the closest. Normally, it was the latter and possibly the safest alternative too.

"Meeeeeow. Meow."

A sound emitted from the critter. The fruit of Zarina's manipulation technique, allowing the rodent to howl out a warning with little more than a very basic change of its voice.

One moment, she was starting to sense something of interest. The next moment, a sanguinaire was diving in for her neck. The rodent's agreed-upon warning gave Anneliese just enough time to conjure a pillar of iron right below her shadowy assailant's crotch, and it slammed into him with considerable force.

The blow knocked him off-balance and he gritted his teeth and grunted in discomfort. Anneliese didn't bother trying to run on crutches. Somehow, that Thantra girl was actually fast, but she could never get above a brisk jog without pulling upon the Gift, so she didn't. The illusion that Nahennah had been helping to maintain on her fell away and the springy steel of her right foot hit the ground. 

[color=gold]"Vhile you were playing vith your dolls, littel girl, and zen spreading your... [i]leg[/i] for filthy cash, I vas mastering ze aht of [ABOLUTE RESISTANCE]."[/color] He bolted forward, eyes wide and unblinking. [color=gold]"I vas shahpening my instincts and my moral compass for people just like you! I am unhuht by such tricks!"[/color]

[color=red]"Gut für dich,"[/color] the majusjaeger grunted, as she pushed off, full speed, dress fluttering in the wind, braids whipping about like twin snakes. She twisted to the side and brought her crutches up and around and... they changed shape! The two came together with a click and a clank and then they were a rifle.[color=red]"Friss Blei, Arschloch!"[/color] She swung the gun into his face and pulled the trigger. 

A hand - sudden and cold and unspeakably strong - reached out to grab the barrel and wrench it out of the way. Anneliese Höfler von Karlberg-Linderfeldt, der rote Teufel, skidded back, a black streak of sparks leaping up from the cobble as her steel foot slid across it. She hopped back and plowed that same foot into her attacker's stomach, a dagger popping out the bottom to stab into him. She didn't taunt or waste time with gratuitous words. This was a true - possibly a [i]high[/i] - sanguinaire and, if he was strange, it was because he was a mad killer. He was also [i]much[/i] stronger than her.

The knife came out and it was warped and twisted from impacting something hard. Blood trickled from the wound, but then his hand was darting at her neck. It was closing and she could feel that it would crush her windpipe. Thus, Anneliese broke the magusjaeger's cardinal rule: she let go of her rifle.

The world dropped away and she hit the ground in a splits. He whiffed cleanly, lurching forward with a growl, and she grabbed the butt of the rifle, leaned her shoulder into his midsection with all of her kinetically and chemically-enhanced might and [i]pulled[/i].

The correct and strategic application of force can offset a sizable deficit in strength. It was part of the credo. It was something that she lived her life by. He stumbled and dived forward and she somersaulted, snapping her legs together, springing up, and landing nimbly on her good one. She spun on the spot, rifle in hand, and stamped her metal foot on the ground to force the damaged dagger back into its socket.

A whirlwind of kinetic energy caught Anneliese before she could get a shot off. The man was unhurt, as expected, but his recovery had been near-instantaneous! Only a converging quartet of arcane lances that scored him on the chest, head, shoulder, and behind distracted him enough to weaken the attack. She spun with it, staggering and taking off, rocketing away telekinetically at chest height. [color=red][i]Good timing, Fish[/i][/color]

She had a straight shot down this street and the bloodmouth was following her, thinking only of his hunt and his hunger. Anneliese did not allow herself a smirk of satisfaction, but she held steady in her gravity loop, took aim, and then - 

The cavalry had arrived.

The commotion had started. There was no need for a signal, the excessive drawing and destructive casting was enough of a cue for an immediate reaction. Nibbler kept his distance, but did not idle. In the midst of the sanguinaire's pursuit, his little RAS got to work. A dose of chemical magic, a school notorious for the lack of raw capacity needed, spiked the creature's very circulation. A monster like this could likely withstand an immense amount of influence, but all she needed was the slightest of falters.

This man had clearly fallen into some sort of trap. And yet he continued his assault. It sealed his fate in the eyes of the semi-pacifist. Zarina had to put this rabid hound down, but not before making thorough use of his pitiful existence. With the final order given to Nibbler, she readied herself.

Steady. 

[i]Steady.[/i]

Space and time were bent like pliable strings. The budding dragon had, in her perspective, changed her surroundings into the very spot the bloodsucker was going to be, with a couple of inches to the left. Arm extended, hand balled into a fist and scales made to grow on her forearm for extra resilience. She banked on him colliding with her arm for a somewhat comedic fall.

It should've hit perfectly - seamlessly. Zarina's timing was on. She had done everything right. As it was, it glanced him across the nose and he stumbled, the sheer force of his charge knocking her arm to the side.

This sanguinaire was [i]unnaturally[/i] strong. His reflexes were absurd. He caught himself, twisting as he started to regain his footing, and his head came around, a grin of sadistic - or perhaps masochistic - eagerness spreading across his face. His nose was hideously broken and bleeding, but she started to feel a massive surge of energy.

Then, Miret was there, from nowhere, lashing out with a kinetically-empowered kick that finished the job. He spun and staggered, a tooth and some blood spurting free from his lips, and the energy dissipated in a shockwave that blew over barrels and damaged shutters and forced all three women backwards. [color=gold]"And so ze haunter becaumes ze haunted."[/color] He snorted, his distorted features breaking, twisting, and bleeding. They were already returning to normal. [color=gold]"Baut.... who is zat? Hmm?"[/color]

The collision warranted a couple of shakes of her arm. That hurt, although not nearly as much as it did for the one with the broken nose. The dull pain was a worthwhile trade for exacting the combination attack she and Miret had prepared. A mild grin of satisfaction was warranted, one that'd falter when it was clear they weren't close to inflict a coup de grace just yet. 

[color=#E5E4E2]“I-”[/color] she pursed her lips. [color=#E5E4E2]“I'm sorry, his accent is way too thick. Nobody's haunting you.”[/color] If beating the living crap out of this thing wasn't going to cut it, then perhaps literally cutting was the go-to strategy. The same arm she had used as an obstacle extended out in a similar stance, this time to actually reach out for something. Out of a thin portal was ripped out the Hocho 99. [color=#E5E4E2]“These guys can heal a lot, right?”[/color] a question directed at Miret, one essentially asking for permission to play with the big toy.

Anneliese was well out of the way by now, and it was effectively just Zarina and Miret, but for her potential cover fire. The latter of the two nodded. [color=9e0039]"Need to one-tap him,"[/color] she whispered, taking a step back and drawing her Chains of Retribution. These, she began spinning as she stepped to the side. They had others. Thantra was not far, and neither were Ingrid and the remaining four magusjaegers. Finally there was their ace in the hole: Tyrel. 

Something inside of Miret said that she wanted to do this [i]her[/i] way, though: just her and Zarina and a leg she would not have this time tomorrow. She kept reminding herself that it was only temporary, that Ailet would have her back. It still bunched up inside of her like a fist squeezing the top of her stomach, though.

[abbr=You left][color=9e0039]"Joi weth,"[/color][/abbr] she breathed, [abbr=Me right][color=9e0039]"Miret yuus."[/color][/abbr]

Zarina nodded in acknowledgment, never once letting this predator out of her sights. The sword was held by both hands, pointed directly upwards to create an obstacle between herself and the physically threatening sanguinaire. Her posture was still amateurish, anyone with experience in the blade could tell. That said, simply dropping that sword on a target could very much realize the 'one-tap' goal they both have.

At Miret's signal, she charged. One step forward, closing the distance by a meter. And then suddenly twenty had been traversed with her assault coming from the sanguinaire's left, her stance perpendicular to his form, as she descended her heavy blade upon him.

Sitting by the windowsill on the 2nd story of a drunkard's house was none other than Ingrid Penderson. She was rather calm, reading a report on some Eskandish merchants attempting to set up Juriskarn and Hargelich to avoid the war. [color=8882be]"Oh that cannot do, no sir,"[/color] her face soured but there was a small grin to it. [color=8882be]"Easy fish to exploit."[/color]

All this open talk of hunting down merchants for wealth was a cover for the hunt. Her position was quiet, sitting and waiting for some action. She could sense energy across time so a scuffle was predictable to if one were to follow the energies near Anneliese. She did a small pinch to the next person, saying that there was nothing to see in her area. 

But the silence of the night was broken, it was out of her range but she could feel the energy shift to fill the void somewhere else. She leaped from the window, trying to find Zarina before she did her temporal shenanigans to catch a ride but she disappeared before she could copy the spell for herself. [color=8882be]"Åh kom igen!"[/color] Ingrid stomped her foot and rested her hand on her hip. [color=8882be]"Guess I'll have to run."[/color]

There was little magic used save for some kinetic alterations, Ingrid was fast enough without magic. Instead, she focused on hiding her senses the same way Desmond had taught her, though admittedly, less cleanly. She now laid in wait, watching for a moment to catch him as he ran away or got sloppy. Ingrid had no reason to rush in today, she was there as support.

[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_HSa1dEL9s]♪♪[/url][/center]

It was like cutting through nothing. Zarina's blade descended and the front half of his head slid cleanly off. 

It was like punching a hole in paper. Miret's fist burst through his abdomen and out the other side.

Then, the latter was grabbed by the hair and hurled into a nearby building with extreme savagery. The latticed window exploded and Miret dropped to the ground, shards of glass sticking out of her chest, cheek, and arm and a leaden post sunk deep into her abdomen. She rolled over and groaned. [color=gold]"Disappointing, girl,"[/color] he sneered. [color=gold]"I usually like to play wiss my food a littel more."[/color]

He came next for Zarina and it was instant. Yet this, too, proved an illusion. He was everywhere and nowhere. He struck a second time with a starburst of bound metallic spikes from below and a maelstrom of razor-sharp spines forming up above and around her and swirling.

The Sanguinaire was tricky but his attacks were repetative. He used illusion to disorientate his opponent, to make them sluggish from indecision. Ingrid had her own tricks but she needed to support Zarina first. 

From the outside, Ingrid could see the minute obscurities of the illusion around Zarina. It was a trap that meant to lessen her abilities, a trap Zarina could reverse if signaled correctly. She pulled on her limited experience and pinched Zarina's ear lobe.

 <FAKE, COUNTER>

Rage bubbled within the buster sword wielder. Reason became secondary to retribution for what had been done to her partner. The pinches only galvanized her initial decision: Tank it all with her resilience and scales and get a decisive blow. But with the threat gone, the draconic berserker bullrushed the energy signature she sniffed out for a counter-attack.

She did not travel far with part of her drawn energy was used to consume space between herself and her prey. What was an attack meant to arrive half a second later was imminent. This time a horizontal slash with a range endowed by the rest of the energy she had drawn.

She had used, effectively, the same technique twice already, and the anger was the icing on the cake. It made her predictable. What was [i]less[/i] so was how she'd been able to see so easily through his illusion and sniff him out. The sanguinaire didn't have time to figure it out, though. That attack would've ended him. The moment that he could feel temporal energies being drawn, he teleported and ended up on a nearby rooftop, throwing in a quick kinetic spell to stir up all of the dust and the fog. 

The baby sanguinaire was up as well, and already healing. He took a moment to stretch out his senses. He almost missed her: a second baby, a great big ox of a woman, using a magusjaeger technique to cloak her presence. This one was dangerous - [i]clever[/i] - but the effort was sophomoric. [color=gold][i]Time to smoke you out.[/i][/color]

It was literal. He created kinetic barriers and pumped the area where she was hiding full of mustard gas as quickly as he could. Then, the first baby sanguinaire was up again. This was starting to become too much of a scene, he knew, on a rational level. Mother had always warned him that he played with his food too much, but it was so fun! [i]Just a [/i]bit[i] longer...[/i]

Zarina did not let up. By forcing her mark to tug on the strings of space and time, she had a trail to work with. The distinguishing stench of time brought her right on him again, blade readied in another very similar assault to what she had done previously. This time it was a diagonal upwards slash. Always the barbarian, still immensely predictable. It was easy to buy too with how livid she appeared in both face and body with her movements prioritizing brutality over any sort of technique or finesse.

[color=#E5E4E2]“You're MINE, asshole!”[/color] she was frothing at the mouth. Her wildblood nature becoming clearer by the second.

There was a moment of hesitation where she held her breath. This could just be a shitty illusion and she could waste time getting rid of it. But the sharp sting in her eyes told her the truth, it was real and potent. 

[color=8882be][i]More chemical magic,[/i][/color] she thought as she began to draw heat out of the environment. Soon it would fall out of the air and be ready to be swept to something inert via Oraff-Zept's gift. It was simple. She must appear weak for now.

Ingrid watched over the battle though she could not fully grasp the intricacies with both parties using temporal magic. What a shame she hadn't broken through the first hurdle of temporal magic yet. Less subtle support now opened itself that the monster had spotted her.

Miret was healing and Zarina was charging in recklessly with an unseen level of barbarism. Perhaps she was doping, she idly thought. Still, Ingrid simply needed to modify Zarina's attack. She released a splash of light behind Zarina to shadow her and hopefully blind her target.

The ox managed to escape and tried to blind him with a luminescent attack, but the sanguinaire did not hunt much with his eyes anyhow. These girls were [i]good[/i], and it dawned upon him that he was not the hunter, but the [i]hunted[/i]. He dodged her sophomoric slash and, instead of dancing away and putting some distance between himself and his quarry, he blasted the wildblood with a point blank dragon's fyre spell, ignoring the other. [color=gold]"And vill you taste like a lizar or a person?"[/color] he taunted.

It was all too easy, and that made him uneasy - uneasy when he sensed it: a fifth energy lurking towards the edge of his range, slowly closing in. 

[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBzSmZUiNic]♪♪[/url][/center]

An opportunity. Both from her hidden support and the enemy shifting to the offense, she had what she needed. Her buster sword served as shield from the attack and her sheer might pushed through just enough to not lose any distance with the creature. Blisters bubbled in abundance where scales did not grow and air was impossible to breathe. But that was a trifling matter to a dragon.

The Sanguinaire needed to draw again after his attack, a perfect opening. She was in arm's reach of him, and so she did just that, reached with her arm to grapple. Both were strong, practically matched in strength, but she had a superheated sword to press against his core to keep him still and gauntlets from an arch-zeno that could withstand said heat.

[color=#E5E4E2]“I wonder what YOU taste like.”[/color]

A threat that did not material the way he'd expect. Before them was a portal.

[color=#E5E4E2]“Dinner!”[/color]

Out came a Sassy Xiao gorged with energy and channeling her inner starved cat. Tongue out and drooling saliva, the large pup lunged for its meal with its thick, stone-carving claws. Zarina lowered her sword just as her pet came to claim its dindins.

[color=gold]"I tink naut,"[/color] he replied. The dragon lunged for him, as if in slow motion, its jaws opening eagerly, its tongue flapping inside of its mouth. It was both magnificent and grotesque and he decided that he would be a hedgehog. Nearly thirty enormous, razor sharp metallic spikes shot out from his form in all directions. 

Meanwhile, not so very far away, Miret stood, reached out with Chemical magic, and hammered her target's mind with Serotonin.

Ingrid was given a moment of respite, he had not launched an attack at her. Why didn't he mattered not though Ingrid suspected she wasn't worth the trouble with her better rushing him down. He wasn't striking with any real lethality, illusionists always played this game. But before any real threat could manifest, Zarina grabbed the initiative and brought forth a dragon to do her bidding.

He was on the back foot, forced on the defensive. By all means, it was going well. They would not need to do much at this rate. It was unsatisfying for the battle hungry sang but what could she do?

Ingrid felt some magic coming from Miret, some sort of chemical, most likely to pacify his mind. She had built some meager heat in her body and decided to focus it on the target to weaken his constitution. A helper was she this night.

The spikes were a good enough deterrent for Zarina as she was made to disengage. Xiao, however? The thing just charged in, claws lodged into the mural of thorns without a single care. It opened its mouth, tongue still hanging off one side, and screeched before unleashing a glob of flame that'd promptly blow up in close range. 

The animal was shoved back by its own attack. But there was no downtime for recovery. The plume of smoke left in the explosions wake scattered as the Emperor's Kite came rushing in like a rooster fighting off an intruder, mouth still agape to remind its prey that he was dinner.

Zarina did not waste time either. Where the sanguinaire avoided the hyperaggressive tank-dragon, she came in to maintain pressure. Her strikes were still predictable but impossible to simply ignore.

There were two very angry dragons on the loose! With the occasional mild friendly fire.

He staggered free of the explosion, burned, battered, and clutching his head. [color=gold]"You bloodless nothings!"[/color] he screamed, thrashing about. Enormous waves of kinetic energy poured off of him, violently shoving Zarina and her dragon away and battering houses and storefronts. A tall tenement stood on the brink of collapse and the choice was clear and stark: kill this monster or stop a disaster in the making.

Miret was, suddenly, nowhere to be seen.

It should have ended there. But Ingrid failed to put everything she had into that attack. It was a meager, subtle attempt to keep her identity somewhat secret. To spare a child from a restless night and keep this as quiet as possible.

But she was mistaken.

The sanguinaire they fought was a monster like all the others she had fought and it had attacked helpless people. She wouldn't let a tragedy like this happen again. 

Ingrid arrived instantly next to the building, stealing the teleports that the enemy had used so liberally. Her power swelled with alien energy, an invisible hand taking hold of the building. The tenement began to freeze and repair with her power of own binding.

Ingrid was brought to her limit. Holding a building, channeling the void, blocking further destruction and repairing what had been done. She had overdrawn but she protected the people of this building and left the path clean for Zarina and Miret. She had done her job.

Zarina and her hyperactive dragon were briefly repelled, leaving the monstrous bloodsucker enough time to exact his nefarious plan. The 'angry bullrush' strategy had to be put on hold now that bystanders were at risk - an issue Zarina had considered and the reason why the smaller Xiao had been chosen for this operation versus a the large hazards that were her froabases.

But as the diversion was about to succeed, a sudden Ingrid intervened. What was an inevitable tragedy turned into an opening. Now they had their cake and ate it too, and Miret was going to have her generous slice.

One also had to consider that, no matter what choice Zarina would have chosen, Xiao wasn't going to stop. The thing continued to charge into the man, and a more tactful beastmaster had used the many distraction to get a Nelson hold going. From there, it was a chemical tug-of-war to keep him from gathering enough path to push her out again.

[color=#E5E4E2]“LUUCHY!”[/color] she called and then whistled. The latter was Xiao's cue to hold back. It stopped right before tackling its prize. Just barely. Angry tail smacks strong enough to crack the shoddy stone pavement were a reminder that an accident was just around the corner. They had to do this quickly.

[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_HSa1dEL9s]♪♪[/url][/center]

Miret seemed to materialize right out of thin air, and she hit the high sanguinaire with bonebreaking force. There was a feral look in her eyes as she grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head around. Beams leapt from his eyes to sear her, but she slipped out of his line of fire quickly enough that it would've occurred to any watching that she may not have even been there in the first place.

Her fingernails dug into him, clawlike and, with a hiss, her mouth open and she tore into his neck. Massive bursts of energy emanated from his form, but there were two of them, now, to handle him, and the junior sanguinaire would not be pried loose. A twisted metal thorn skewered her through the thigh, and another through the shoulder, but her eyes flared crimson and he let out a strangled scream and, still, she drank.

[color=gold]"Five hundred years!"[/color] he rasped, as she bit deeper, blood spattered across her porcelain features, dribbling down her clothes and Zarina's. It was an awful noise: the slurping and squelching, the rapid stuttered breathing, the cracking of bones.

And as she gripped him tightly - [i]her[/i], not Tyrel - Miret could feel the strength of five hundred years flowing into her body. It had been his, cruelly taken; now it was hers in just comeuppance. He tried to teleport, but he faced two who knew the ways of that magic, and the threads of space and time were held firmly in place. 

Zarina bled, now. Miret bled. It was their enemy who bled most. She snapped his collarbone as his hands clawed for her eyes and one fell. Zarina did not flinch at the display, though it was ecstasy for Miret, enough to overwhelm the shame and anxiety at feeding before anyone not named Tyrel, and she scarce registered her friend and lover.

What made it worse was that he continued to heal. He healed like a man who expected that there might be some last-moment escape, some reprieve, that he might yet survive. 

In the distance, great energies flared, but they were not her concern. No rescue was forthcoming. His struggles slackened and he felt small and cold and emptied in her arms. Finally, she thrust him free, having drunk all that she could. Her nerves blazed and her senses hummed. Her heart throbbed with life and her hands trembled. [color=9e0039]"Now, Zarina,"[/color] she rasped, panting like an animal. Her eyes flicked to the Virangishwoman's sword. [color=9e0039]"Now! Finish him!"[/color]

The building was finished enough but the man was still alive. Ingrid needed his blood, not only for food but to beat the demon that took so much from her. She moved with blinding speed to devour the sang on the floor. She wanted to feed.

Zarina had to look away. Her duties were thoroughly fulfilled, with a punch on the head or nape to tenderize the meat she had prepared for her lover. The sounds couldn't be drowned out, not when she was putting all her strength to keeping things under control. At least she had something else to focus on: Xiao. Keeping that volatile pup under control was as paramount as keeping this monster in place.

Grunts of exertion, forced out to cover up the rising gags from the gorey display. There was a part of her that wondered if this was even worth it, to be more animalistic than the very animal she had summoned. But she was committed and this "person" she held down had long since waved his right to be seen as a person. 

She breathed. In and out.

Xiao stomped its foot on the ground, growing antsy.

In and out.

Most of the blood was out. Once Miret was finished, the Virangish kicked his knee to keep him down. With no blood, there wasn't going to be any moving. She straightened up, sword drawn and readied over her head. Wordlessly, she played the role of execution to a tee, eyes on her task and nothing else now, not even her darling Xiao. The blade descended down without delay, with the singular goal to end this thing's life without resentment or cruelty. Clean.

She just simply had to go for it but she wouldn't dare go for the neck where Zarina had aimed the hocho 99. Where could she bite other than where all animals bite first? She ripped in and started to suck as much blood as she can. It wasn't the grand amount Miret had but it was enough. There was no telling what she would assimilate but it was a light meal so most likely nothing. She wiped his blood away from her face and ate a mint. Some memories of her Ariande calling her a dog came to mind and they were more true than ever.

"How are you feeling?" she asked Miret and Zarina. Taking a life was heavy and Miret seemed absolutely animated.

Miret bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, wired. She paced and bounded, so much power and clarity and... [i]everything[/i]! [color=9e0039]"Horrible and wonderful,"[/color] she replied succinctly. She shook her head to clear it and rubbed at her midsection where her ribs had recently been repaired. [color=9e0039]"Not an experience I care to repeat, that's for sure."[/color] She twisted to shoot Ingrid a quick smile. [color=9e0039]"Thank you, suunei."[/color]

Then, she strode up to Zarina and wrapped her arms around her and squeezed tightly.[color=9e0039]"I love you."[/color] She went in for the kiss, shooting a wink to the side at Ingrid.

Both Sanguinaires had their post-feeding glow while Zarina was the complete opposite — discreet and motionless. She had nearly whiffed her coup-de-grâce after being taken aback by the bestial gore fest. Ingrid's desperate jump for a piece of this dying thing was a visual obscenity she never expected of the peculiar but ultimately harmless nerdette. In fact, seeing her sucking blood in general was a revolting surprise, one she stifled by looking away.

Xiao was her rock here, a distraction from the reality of what sanguinaire was - what her lover was. A simple beast that just wanted to eat, no deception or veil of properness other than their man-made elegance. Zarina whistled again and gestured toward the body free of its head. With no delay, the kite rushed in to devour the corpse, cooking it with a quick stream of flames. Pieces were ripped off and entire chunks swallowed without the need for much chewing. The sounds were as unnerving as the blood sucking. Maybe she should have tossed it in a portal.

Then came the hug, one that didn't feel totally out of place. They had survived and Miret was happy. Zarina relaxed in the embrace, practically melting into it. 

A kiss, however, was a step too far, prompting her to turn her cheek. Xiao's feast was a strong reminder of where those lips had just been. And, of course, there was Ingrid whom she peered towards and gave a thumbs up to answer her question. It took her a moment, a little bit of angling to hide her face by Miret's so she could whisper by her ear.

[color=#E5E4E2]“Love you too, Luuchy.”[/color]

Ingrid busied herself with cleaning her dress, before it 'fixed' itself. She just sighed and hoped not to many people with peculiar clothing joined. [color=8882be]"I can agree on both accounts, I only jumped in at the end when I saw he was still alive."[/color] She found herself feeling rather disgusted and guilty and it read all over her face until Xiao ate the source of it away. 

Part of her wanted to explain why she did that but felt it wouldn't matter to Zarina.

[color=8882be]"Should we be moving out of here or is there more?"[/color] Ingrid asked.

Miret backed away after a moment: heart racing, hands trembling. She could feel it in the tenseness of Zarina's shoulders, in her avoidant turn to the side, in the delay of her answer: her lover was repulsed by her.

It was a castle build upon sand pillars that Miret lived in, though she would not acknowledge this. She was repulsed by herself, on some level: by her weakness, by her [i]hunger[/i], by her very [i]nature[/i]. She managed a weak smile and parting squeeze of the hand as she backed away and that dragon - that blasted dragon - glanced up at her between its slurping and crunching of bone with big soulless black orbs. Her heart hammered and she could feel it behind her ears. 

Perhaps Zarina's true nature would repulse her as well.

[color=9e0039]"I think you're right."[/color] She nodded. In the morning, Ingrid was to use that dread staff and she would gain life while Miret would lose her right leg. She had set aside a few hours before then where she might spend time with Zarina, where they might be together and remain so when the time came for her to become Tyrel.

And, as if summoned by thoughts of her, the Avatar of Vyshta appeared: a gargantuan presence wherever she went. [color=98fb98]"I believe we are to reconvene under the Ever Tree in the morning?"[/color] she suggested, glancing at the other three. Miret could sense it, though: a tension in her sister's chest, manas excited by drawing to near capacity. That surge of energy she had dimly registered while... feeding - her insides curled up at the monster she must've appeared - had been Tyrel. Yes, it must've been Tyrel facing down some monster, as was her inevitable calling. 

She did it without complaint, though. How many times had she been Miret's rescuer? Now, there she was, furrowing her brow in concern, but she hid this too. [color=98fb98]"Sheesh, Zazzy, your little friend here isn't much for table manners,"[/color] she observed, winking at Miret.

[color=9e0039]"Actually,"[/color] Miret interjected, returning to an earlier topic, [color=9e0039]"I uh... think I'm ready now."[/color] She took a deep breath and nodded a couple of times. [color=9e0039]"I think we can go and do it now..."[/color] She glanced about. [color=9e0039]"Before anything has the chance to go wrong, right?"[/color] she added with a snort of rueful mirth.

Zarina was no oblivious to the body language changes in her lover. Where the Sanguinaire felt disgust for herself, the Wildblood was hit by a wave of regret. They were both, in the end, monsters and reminders only fed the self-hatred of insecure youth crank up to new heights. She couldn't muster up the courage to bridge the gap created between them, not until ...

Tyrel, coming in as an indirect messenger of the end, showed up to take center light. This was the end of Miret and the start of new-Tyrel. The end of these little outings she and Zarina would do outside the tyrannical gazes of Tarlon, the school or even the Church. 

Soon, they were going to butcher her love.

The discreet human of the couple who could only muster a forced chuckle reached out to clutch Miret's hand. There was no tugging, she was not going to stop her. It was a call for attention, perhaps a means to convince her to step away. Her eyes, as they met the Yasoi, expressed he worry as clear as day. 

Meanwhile, Xiao had already devoured all but the head. Her long tongue brushed over its face and snout, suckling on leftover blood and pieces.

Tyrel swallowed, glancing between the others, and took a step back. Space and time splintered and a portal opened. On the other side was the Ever Tree. [color=98fb98]"Maybe,"[/color] she suggested, [color=98fb98]"you two take a little time for yourselves."[/color] It was spoken like a question, but was not. [color=98fb98]"You're..."[/color] She swallowed again, looking away, [color=98fb98]"giving up everything for me, suunei."[/color] They could see her, in profile, breathing unsteadily. She turned back, the Avatar of a goddess again. [color=98fb98]"You're the best thing that has ever been in my life, sister. Take some time for you. I'll still be here."[/color] 

Her eyes flicked Ingrid's way momentarily. The portal yawned open.

[color=8882be][i]Oh thank Reshta,[/i][/color] Ingrid nodded her head. [color=8882be]"Is this portal squid free?"[/color] she smirked before walking through.

Tyrel winked. [color=98fb98]"Ain't that just the question these days?"[/color] She shook her head. Then, she flexed and hopped a step. [color=98fb98]"Don't worry, littel huumon, biig stronk Tyrel vill protect yuu if bad squiids come."[/color] She followed Ingrid in with a smile.

[color=8882be]"Oh thunk yoo~"[/color] Ingrid swooned as the portal closed.

A mild, easily missed smile of gratitude was dedicated to Tyrel. A messenger of the end, but a merciful one. With a face she could only be fond of. Zarina leaned into Miret, once again her voice hushed to keep the words only between them. Natural, no magic.

[color=#E5E4E2]“I've a new pool table.”[/color]

A brief, halfhearted chuckle followed that line. It was a nice table, admittedly.

Then she flinched, a delayed reaction to a specific remark. [color=#E5E4E2]“... Squids?”[/color]

Miret shrugged. [color=9e0039]"[i]Those[/i] guys,"[/color] she replied with quiet discomfort. [color=9e0039]"You know..."[/color] She changed the subject quickly, though. [color=9e0039]"Let's go see your table."[/color] She had... five or six hours left. She followed Zarina.

It was Zarina's turn to make a portal, one leading to their safe place. An inn that had become more of a home than a place to hide, especially with the renovations the owner had planned, starting with the mentioned billiards table. 

Hand in hand, the two walked through, with another whistle beckoning Xiao to follow behind. The nosy blep dragon stuck her snout between the duo in a crave for attention.

They left behind a memento: The severed head.

Miret was nice enough to cover it up with a bag, at least.[/color]