The humanoid, cloudy mass had been within Frank's notice for a while, but he had feigned ignorance. As the Frenchman had distanced himself from the girl, he took care to move close to the buildings, where a festival of lights kept the shadows at bay. As the dull eyes raced towards him, Frank gasped and stumbled backwards, fully engulfing himself in the light - but even to keen eyes, it looked like a chance maneuver. Few people ever suspected the loudmouthed man as more than a fool with incredible luck.
"Ahh, zat thing looks hungry, and I have just ze food!" A shotgun blast greeted the shadow creature as it hit the edge of the light. Frank racked the big gun, and an empty brass cartridge pinged on the ground. "Want seconds, mother ********?!"
The inexperienced fighter THOUGHT the hit did damage, after all, it did connect. However he was shocked when the male simply took the hit, regardless of the giant red mark on the male’s cheek. More surprising was that the man stood there and didn’t stumble a bit. Terrance was set to strike again, hoping to cause some imfact this time however, he was surprised when the male decided to grab him. He found himself unable to munch while the obviously stronger male was pushing him back.
He slammed into the turnbuckle and winced as his back slammed into it with heaving force. He regained his composure and concentrated, surely there must be a way out of this situation. He tried to escape, he would take his right hand and attempt another shot this one. He clenched his fist, pulling it to his side, and then throwing the uppercut into the male’s gut. Again the lack of positioning and the fact the male was still grabbing onto him, would’ve surely killed the power going into the punch.
The shadow took the shot, black spraying out behind it as it slowed it's advance on Frank to look down at the now much lighter area in it's chest were the dark mater that it was made of had to stretch itself thin to close around the wound.... it had never before experienced such a sensation, because it had never before been so close to the solids, if it had not been certain that the priestess intended to send it back to it's own realm when it finished helping her, the shadow man would have been worried about what she had done to it and what the man with the fire stick was doing to it...
As it was, after looking down to it's chest to see the holes slowly close over...even if they were made of much lighter shadows now...the Shadow advanced again on Frank, long arms outstretched towards the gun.
In the deeper shadows back behind the corner Rae raised her own shadow, although this one was more like a black and white photo of the original than just a shadow creature. "Figures that a Frenchman would have a foul mouth..."
The shadow Raven simply rolled her eyes and glanced around the corner, pointing in the direction of it's fellow construct with a worried look on her face. "I don't care... I know better than to bring a knife to a gun fight, either he can get the gun away from the Frenchy or you get to try your luck against him!"
The shadow Raven scowled at her physical copy, shaking a finger at the other woman.
"Hey, you heal even better than I do, so don't give me that look! If you have a better idea I'm willing to hear it..." sweatdrop Rae felt a bit bad, having others do her fighting for her, but she wasn't half as stupid as the outfit hinted xp
Someone had indeed been watching poor little Terrance......he had been watching for some time.
He had been watching Henry too....
It was unclear how long Samuel had been there but if either man was inclined to look away from one another, which in a fight you should never do, they would notice something...out of place.
The once empty bleachers now had a single being sitting there, arms folded across his chest and positioned leaned back. This man was big and such fact was obvious by his bulging muscular frame. It was hard in the dim light to tell the exact features of the man but he was dressed in all black and his skin was hard to make out. What was easily discernible was the pair of horns that rose out from a sea of black hair that had streaks of white splashed in it.
Other then that fact the only other hint of inhuman origin was those eyes that stared from the shadows. Darkness contrasted by a pair of white orbs that had no pupils, just blank like a dead man. Emotionless and empty like a white void that glowed out from the third row of seats back from the ring, just where the light began to fade. The light did not just fade it seem to shift, as if being absorbed by some unknown object and it was only in this area of the stands...around this man.
He said no words or made no moves to intervene...he simply sat...and watched........
Terrence would find Henry's midsection to have much less give than his face. In the clinch position, Henry had his arms up, making a high blow undesirable. But this left his midsection exposed. But, Henry didn't leave himself entirely defenseless: in addition to being rather fit, he'd prepared for a mid-level strike by sucking in a breath and clenching his abdominal muscles tight. Terry would find an iron wall (figuratively) between his fist and the squishy bits such a blow could deal real damage to.
Doesn't mean it didn't hurt, though. Because it did. This was a pain that Henry was more than obliged to return, perhaps tenfold if he could manage. Without letting his guard fall, he yanked his right hand back and snapped it back forward. A shotgun jab aimed for the center of Terrence's young, black mug.
As the right came forward, the left pistoned, storing energy in the deltoid and bicep. Provided the jab did it's job, the hook would follow. Following a tight arc 'round to slam a tight fist into the side of Terrence's skull like a rocket-powered sledgehammer.
Another shotgun blast at point blank dissipated the entire shadow's head. Seeing an unfavorable situation and a foe he was unsure of, Frank swiveled around to face the building him. Graffiti, a boarded-up door, and a broken window faced him, and the fighter took off to dive headfirst through the window. He came back up and fired a shot out the window, the buckshot spread scattering in a wide screen of pain at any followers.
He stopped his run from one end of the house to the other, and scooped up a glowing blade that had caught his eye. The straight edged sword felt good in his hands.
"I 'ave no idea what zis does, but come at me, you magical swine!"
It took a lot longer for the shadow to reform it's head, and by the time it had managed the task Frank was through the window, and the shadow man was looking a lot closer to just a shadow as it followed after him again.
The shadow Raven made another gesture and smirked at her counterpart. "What do you mean, he's getting away?"
Rae threw her hands in the air and stomped around the corner, her shadow clone following her so the two of them climbed through the broken window only a few steps behind the still advancing shadow man. "You could try to be a bit faster you know... I am giving you more than enough of my power to get a couple of annoying guns away from one little Frenchman!"
The shadow Raven was laughing a bit at her double, following behind, and apparently making silent jokes at her opposite's expense.
Rae threw a scowl at her shadow as she tried to hurry up after Frank... this being a bad guy thing was not going well... but if she threw her lot in with the defenders it could take forever to get KB out of this annoying city. xp
"Thank you," he replied, taking an open chair nearby, and placing the package of materials on a free table, "I'd be content to take some of that boredom off your hands for myself then" the slayer added lightly. No doubt he'd been busy in some fashion or the other, although he'd leave that up to the smith's imagination.
"Have you been well since my last visit?" he inquired politely. It seemed like there was always something going on in Sigil. Just like everywhere else in Gaia.
James would need to watch his step, for as soon as he tried to sit down on the presumed chair, he would find himself falling on his rear upon the tatami mat floor. In spite of the fact that Sigil was full of so many different cultures, Hidemitsu was a man of aesthetics, and as such there were no chairs in his living quarters. Tatami mat floors didn't lend themselves to chairs very well.
Of course, James was most likely quick enough to stop himself before that happened. Hidemitsu pat the seating pillow opposite himself so that he'd know where to sit. As soon as he placed the materials before him, the blacksmith was already upon them like a child on Christmas day. He immediately opened up the parcel so that he could inspect all of the fine wares his client was providing him with.
"Heh, more or less. More or less," he said, repeating himself slower the second time around. He didn't look up from the box of materials while he spoke, almost as if he wasn't paying attention to James at all, in spite of the contrary. "There's always something going on out there in the city, but I try to keep my nose clean. Plenty of bad folks out there, the kind that I wouldn't want catching wind of my presence here in Sigil. I'm kindof picky about the commissions I take, and who I take them from."
Hidemitsu spent a particularly long amount of time inspecting the powdered red crystal. He knew dwarven steel when he saw it, and James had been enough of a dear to provide him with already made charcoal rather than wood to be used for charcoal. Hidemitsu liked the level of control involved with turning wood into charcoal for himself, but he could tell by the look of what James provided that it was pretty high quality stuff. But it was the powdered red crystal that had him quirking his brow.
"What's this?" he asked, pinching some of it between his fingers.
"Firestone" James replied immediately from his place on the mat.
Then slower, "or rather, thats what it could be called. I picked it up inside a volcano. The volcano in question, lay upon a crossing of multiple leylines, so I'm led to believe it possesses some type of power".
The man shrugged. "I'm not sure how you're goin' to use it, but I believe you wanted some kind of additional reagent for the sword's forging."
You know... I could stand here with this sword, waiting for ze demented schoolgirl and her pet demons...
Frank looked behind him, and spotted a back door through the kitchen.
The marble kitchen floor was slick with blood and spilled grease, and the legs of a corpse poked out from behind the door frame of another room. Unconcerned, Frank kicked the stove, which easily slid, and he severed the exposed gas line with the sword. He heard talking from outside the broken window, and quickly but carefully made his way out.
"Suck on ze d**k," Frank muttered under his breath. He lit a match, dropped it in the kitchen, shut the door, and ran as fast as he could.
A few seconds later, the gas build-up would reach a point that it ignited, and flames like a dragon's breath rushed through the interior like air filling a vacuum, hot enough to turn everything they touched black.
The jab was enough to make the boy’s head turn, no knowledge of fighting in him, he had no experience in softening the blow by turning his own neck. Instead he took the full brunt of the normally harmless jab. He snapped his head back and was ready to retaliate.
Maybe a bit too ready one would say.
Suddenly he felt an impact to him temple, followed by a ringing in his head. He could hear the thumping of his own brain smashing into his skull. His vision began to blur, his legs wobbly, balance lost. He would fall to the ground. He held himself on however, by grabbing the rope, his vision returned after a while, but he felt something else was wrong.
His nose was leaking a red/grey ichor, possibly from the jab to his face. He grunted and began to slowly lift himself back up from the mat. He wasn’t going to get counted out just yet. He went into a more tensed stance, one matching his opposition. However, it was a bit too tense, his fist were completely clenched, and his body itself didn’t seem to be in much motion.