Still rockin' the Hive District
Something.. abnormally weird was appropriate. Just counting the limbs showed a lopsided man creature. One wing, and only one wing on his left shoulder. A secondary appendage under his right arm. A thick, agile tail. He was hunched over as he got off the street, and away from the portal he had entered from. His hand reached out, touching one of the buildings along the street. Some shotgun slum shack that looked as thought it was put together from tin sheeting and bailing twine. His right hand skittered over its metal, rapping on it with fingers that ended in small, hard, sharpened bone talons.
Someone inside was muttering. He could hear it, someone sleeping inside, rustling through. From the tone of the mutters, looking for a weapon. The man smiled. His hand retracted, gripping up the staff he had used to help prop himself up. A spiraled thing made of knotty wood, dark, thin and weak looking. The man was small in stature, but it seemed even his bulk should have snapped it. Instead the cap of the shining gold double headed bird stood steady.
"WHAT?!" came the shout, as what looked like a very sleepy, pissed of man kicked the sheet of tin that served as a "doorway", letting it fall to the street with a loud clatter. He had a shotgun in his right hand, a snuffed cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
He was not human however. Not even a proper mutant form, so the man could see. the lean features, the angular shape, the way he stood. An Elfen vampire with a touch of draconic heritage, though he knew not the name of the species, not one of them in fact.
"... Such blight... truly a blessing." The mutated man took a slow step towards the Elven Vampiric Dragon humanoid, watching the man tense up, that shotgun snap to his hand. Before the sleep addled creature could aim it at him that appendage just south of his right arm snapped out, grasping the weapon, ripping it out of unexpecting fingers, throwing it out into the street.
The man took a step back, even as he raised his hands, prepared to defend himself. But the mutant did not strike. His staff lowered slowly, he whispered to himself. A spell caster perhaps? The elf vampire dragon who might even have had a touch of Heaven in his ancestory knew the look. He charged in, seeking to interrupt the sorcery, driving his fist into the man's stomach, and seemingly not phasing him in the least. It was like hitting a brick wall.
The creature's appendage wrapped around the elf, holding him there as the empty left hand grappled him as well, pinning his arm. The wing curled around them, shielding them from sight. The mutant's jaws unhinged, seemingly opening impossibly wide, showing the teeth of a predatory, sharp rows of fangs which descended on the victim's right neck, ripping into his flesh, tasting his blood, swallowing his tissue, using that to finish his sorcery.
"First of many," he said, releasing the dead undead, letting its body fall, decapitated by the snap of the jaws. Its body seemed twisted from what it had been before, a large tumor where the elf's one perfectly sculpted, because they always are on this plane, abdominals, making him look like a bloated, headless pregger.
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