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OoC: School attack, So fun ^_^; and yesh, another shortie post. OoC

Zerath, while being held upside down, was not much amused by his situation. A further discomfort was that the wizards left thumb was pressed deeply into his side in a paralyzing manner. Nearly frozen in an awkward, tense and bent position; Zerath’s mind shifted to thoughts of extreme violence towards Searil,
While Zerath was hanging upside down and wound tightly, Searil would have been in grave danger, of being scratched, if Zerath’s claws, and belly, were not pointing away from the wizard. While Zerath’s eye blinked twitchingly, his jaws quivered with his tongue coiled as if holding back a sharp yell.

Derek saw the other man hit the ground, watched as the blood stain bloomed. He didn't see what killed the drow until it hit the ground. Next thing he knew, he was running through the docks with Rufus, the rifle dropped and forgotten. He ran for many reasons: He ran because he killed someone, because someone was dying, because someone was chasing him. He ran for his life.
He didn't notice where they were going, he just blindly followed Rufus. So, when they got to the ship, he didn't even notice. He just ran inside.

Rufus ran to the entrance door, his free left hand took the handle as his right foot kicked the door open. He ran inside to the lobby. "Caleb! Wh'ere the 'ell are ya?!"
Caleb came out of Searil's room, seeing Rufus holding Cornelius. "What in the burning hells happened? Get him on the table in my office, haste now." Caleb walked across to the small hallway. Rufus sprinted to the room, laying him on table.
Cornelius attempted to remove the shotgun from his back. Caleb slowly guided his hands away.
"This is not the time for you to worry about things like that." Caleb said as he took it out of the holster for him. He placed it onto the wooden floor. His ghost white hands pulled on the shirt, springing all of the buttons off as the shirt opened, revealing the wound.
"Rufus, start telling myself what both of you were doing." A pair of small tweezer-like tongs fell into Caleb's hand from the coat. He began to examine the entry point, trying to insert them into the wound.
Cornelius responded with a wince as he gritted his teeth.
"It happened all-ouva sudden, these men set us in a bloody damn trap. We ended up killing 2 of the bastards and we 'ere tryin' to get some information from them." Rufus replied. "An' 'en tha' two 'at wh'ere left were on tha' ground, one shot Cornelius and I payed back the offa' the otha' was too injured to do anythin'."
Caleb pulled a terrycloth towel from the desk right next to the table. Pulling it into Cornelius's mouth to clamp down on. "And you did not bother interrogating the other one?"
"Constables are comin' here, Caleb. Ya need to work fast otherwise were in some deep s**t."
"Then I am going to need a philter to slow the bleeding, look to the shelf behind myself, there should be a rack of them, give me a watery red one up there, it should help." Caleb's instrument reached into the wound, searching around it, and then finding the lead piece. In one swift motion, it was plucked from Cornelius' chest. Rufus then handed him a long thin bottle with a watery red substance inside. Caleb poured the liquid into the wound. Caleb went to the same cabinet, looking for another potion upon the many he had.

Searil began to focus on the page he had found, seeing that he had found what looked to be the right spell.
Now he needed a binding item. He looked to the key he still held in his right hand.
This better work.
"Praeparo praehendo anima." Starting in the palm of Searil's hand was a glowing grey tenpoint star, it soon began to branch out, adding in more points and runes into the glowing circle.
This would take some time, he need to ensure the key would hold the little b*****d. Searil began to feel his mana flow go to the key.
"Astringo anima!" Searil's right hand flew towards Zerath, and hope it didn't hit Alice.

Not too far away in the shipyard of the Eagle Hunter airship company. The end of the shift bell had sound and the workers were getting ready to leave. The forman came out and handed each man a check for their work. He had one last one and looked around. "Has anyone seen Joesph?" He asked. Looking around most shook their heads or shrugged one man pushed his way to the front. "He's still working sir, he says he ain't going til he gets the last turbine finished and in place" The man said. The formen shook his head. He started walking to the building deck. They had been hired by the military to build a new type of moble command ship. Once they had finished it'd be escourted to the military yard to get outfitted with weapons. The forman climbed his way up onto the ship then went across the deck and looked out the other side. perched next to the propeller with his welding googles down and his mask on in dirty and well used workmen's clothing was the man he'd been looking for. "JOESPH!" The man yelled. Joesph looked up. It was actually abit of a scary thing to see this man suddenly turn his head and look right at you. No idea what he could be thinking from facial features. "C'MON, YOUR SHIFTS UP! I'M NOT PAYING YOU FOR AN EXTRA SHIFT" Joesph shrugged and went back to work. "For the love of-" The forman climbed over the railing and walked along the wing to joesph. He put on hand on joesph's shoulder. "That's enough" The formen ordered. Behind his googles joesph rolled his eyes. " На родине они бы хвалить меня за желание работать больше, вот они меня хотят работать меньше ... пожелать мира примет решение по некоторым правилам. " He muttered to himself. Though his english was very good, at home he spoke only his ancestor's tounge, Russian. He took the check then left the airship and went to change into his street clothing.

"Another round" A large man ordered, throughing a trio of coins onto the bar top. The barkeeper nodded, took the coins and filled the man's glass again. "Don't get many mercenaries around here" The bartender said. "At these prices? I'm not all that suprised" Alexander said. after taking a drink then swishing the rum around in his glass. It was no secret that he was a mercenary, he could deny it. But with the fact he had a pair of what some would mistaken for modafied lever action rifles, which really was what they were, in a pair of holisters at his sides, what else could he be called? a thug? and murderer? a pirate!? he smiled to himself abit then took another drink.

The Wizard’s voice range in Zerath’s ears while he widely opened his mouth as his eyes darted towards Searil. Zerath’s teeth hade completely change, what was before a set of relatively large fangs with tiny teeth became two massive teeth that dormered a beak that was far to massive from his decreasingly feline head, which brought up the next point, impressive as his new set of shearing teeth were, he could not open his jaws.

Still kicking at Alice’s hand Zerath hooked his upper tooth on her thumb, an effort to both pull it off himself, and to open his jaws that were crackling with daemonic energies as he attempted to enlarge them enough to let them open wide and chop at it, her thumb, again with the goal of shearing it off in one go.
Zerath’s jaw twitched open, in increasingly large gasps, as the wizard continued his chant; he was terribly short on time. After he finally stopped kicking, Zerath’s Jaw finally ached wide open; He pulled his head away as he coiled backwards before swinging his head right back at her thumb.

“Gah-eak” Zerath choked while feeling two things twice to filmier wrap around his neck, first was the wizard’s hands, second was a very vile spell; it was the kind that pulled the victim’s soul out bound it to something other their own mortal flesh and bone.
A mortal, a human, would have only suffered the agony of their soul being ripped from their mind and body; Zerath suffered that in addition to yet another death, caused by what made half of his very flesh being plucked away. While gasping weakly, airlessly for breath, Zerath, Hell Spawn and Harbinger, watched meekly as his very soul was drained from his body with a physical manifestation, it took the form of bright crimson as it harmlessly poured and floated into the key while flowing around anything in its path; the irony that he was being drained of blood was wasted Zerath. For him there was only great disbelief that what was happening was, that he had excused all his options of escape, that he was soon to be bound to serve two, that his very soul was being bound to such a dinky and unrefined key that looked like it was buried for a decade, caked in rust, and then crudely cleaned.

Zerath resisted for what he could, a token effort at this point, but was soon overcame; fully reconstituting his body had left him exhausted; his previous deaths off the day and his more resent shape shifts did not help his fatigue either.

Caleb pointed the avian mask in the direction of the young male and Moe who stood near the doorway. "Yes, by leaving me to my work." His right hand gestured in a shooing fashion as his left plucked a black potion from the rack. His right hand swung down, a scalpel falling into it from the coat. His thumb popped off the stopper. A black flame sprouted from the mouth of the bottle, he heated the scalpel underneath the flame, then touched the open wound.
Cornelius jumped, it wasn't hotter than hell, it was hell. He gave a pained muffled grunt.
Caleb opened up a drawer, taking out a roll of gauche tape. He began to cover the wound with it.

Searil felt some sort of ethereal material rush into the key. It had to have worked.
Alice watched as the blood like energy exited from the cat. "Searil? What are you doing?"
Searil simply looked back to her and said. "Cleaning up a mess I should have done too long ago. Sigillum anima!" A sudden rush of a faint blue rushed though Searil's hand, and into the key. If the seal broke, he might have to start all over, with an even more angry hellspawn staring back at him.

Derek was a little taken aback by the man's shooing hand. He had only tried to help. But, back off he did, and watched the man at work, searing the wound closed. It seemed quite the painful experience, and one Derek himself was not anxious to try out.
However, it is effective, He thought to himself as he sw the doctor, or medic, or whatever he was begin to gauze the wound. He picked up his jacket and slung it over one shoulder. He realized then that he was on a completely strange ship, had no idea where everyone slept, ate, or anything, had a rough idea about what his duties might be, but nothing solid, and just plain didn't exactly know where to go when his services were not required. And so, feeling very much like an extra wheel, he leaned against the door frame and did nothing, looking slightly confused.

Zerath glared fearfully as the blue aura formed about the key and then weakly twitched as it cemented itself on the ring; his body then went limp as everything became to nothing yet again. ‘I hate you, irksome wizards, so much you cannot comprehend it…’ Zerath grumbled to himself, this time, he was not going to fight himself awake, much less his body again alive, both would come in time, and hours he persumed. Hast, he had more than proven to himself, would only work o his further detriment, as would running on fumes in the face of a wizard.

OoC: Note I’m not abandoning this RP or anything, but otherwise this could drag on for a while and there is no need for me to add commentary every post cycle untilled a few in character hours pass.