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Ions and Argent


MarkK

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After speaking, Emissary flew away in a wide, backwards arc, letting him take a separate approach back in. Ionica was far too high up to likely be spotted anyway, but there was no good reason to draw attention to where she was.

He floated through the ramshackle and abandoned warehouses, back to where he had been before though at far lowee altitude.

He did not have to wait long, hearing the scrape of their shoes on the pavement long before a seedy looking group in worn leather jackets and torn up jeans made their way out from behind a few buildings. There was something.. unhealthy about them, something beyond the usual, a more jagged echo to their greasy smiles, an ever so often flicker of a greenish, diseased cast to their skin, fingernails filed to points as if faux talons, the skin around them red and broken, sores oozing. They had taken up company with the infernal, and it was taking a toll.

"You think you're going to just waltz in here and do us up like those little girls in Cesar's crew?" Even the sneering yell of what looked to be their leader felt off, shrill, and like nails being dragged over a chalkboard.

The Emissary maintained his usual calm.

"Oh, well, no, of course not, that would make no sense. This is a completely different situation. Defeating you will be impossible to replicate in exactly the same way."

This was not exactly the standard defiant banter response they were expecting, but they managed a hearty "Your mother!" after a moment's confusion.

In the mass lunge, three of them seemed to.. rip right out of their own skin, mortal flesh and clothing falling to red smearing tatters in their wake. They loomed as misshaphen beasts out of a nightmare, reddened skin gnarled and over muscled, bone spurs jutting out here and there, encircled by the gore of their own bodies. Massive hands ended in serrated claws to match the racks of horns that curved back along their heads, set atop faces that were a twisted mockery of human, their warcries forced out through all pointed teeth. They ran forward on hooves, and there were gouts of fire scorching the earth in each thudding step. The Raven's intelligence had pointed to demons, and it was spot on.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Making deals with demons was not exactly a sign of titanic intellect, and so it was no great shock to the Emissary to see the human gang members attempt to unload their .45s into him, muzzle fire blazing. There was at least a loud and dramatic clang as the bullets bounced off his skin.

He had just enough time to press a finger to the button on his cell before his own charge met those of the demons, lunging forward with a paired strike of his open hands, seeking to bring them together with a clap around the head of the lead monster.

Unfortunately, the fires of whatever pit of nightmares it crawled from gave it a hide toughened enough to take the blows without even a flinch. The Emissary's sole reward was a blast of reeking breath from the demon's misshapen maw. All the same, he had the grip he was seeking, and soon the leverage. With the demon overpowered, he could enact a battle plan and give into his disgust at the same time. He rolled his body back into a flip, carrying the demon along for the ride, and at the apex of it, using strength and momentum both to hurl the monster well up into the air, and directly into Ionica's path of descent.

"Now! That one!" The Emissary cried as the beast flailed helplessly for the moment.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Ionica's fist slams into the creature's warped and reeking hide with a loud crack, sending the demon hurtling back down to the ground, cratering the pavement beneath its feet from the crashing impact. The monster barely rises to its feet, reeling and staggering.

The remaining demons brought their fury to bear on the closest target to them, drawn in by the silvery glinting skin of the Emissary, infernal natures compelling them to mar and ruin anything unblemished.

He rolled easily under the swiping claws of the first, coming out into a leap that carried him over the lunge of the second, demonin talons gouging deep rifts into the concrete below instead, speaking to the power of the monsters being faced.

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