Night's Omen

Raphael strolled casually, one arm around each of his female wolf counterparts. So lovely, the two of them. Narkisa, bathed in Raphael's darkness, as always, tainted by it so much that she seemed almost a part of him, and yet separate. Delia, on the other hand, was still clinging to her own sense of self, desperately failing as with each passing day she fell more and more under Raphael's mental fog of fear and loathing. He spoke softly to them, his voice deep and murmuring, while each female listened intently to what he had to say, regardless of what the topic pertained to.

It was Delia first, whose attention strayed. She faltered in her steps, and stopped abruptly, nose up, inhaling deeply. "I smell... something. Something... strange." She continued to sniff in between verbal thoughts, and began to wander away from the pair when Raphael reached out, hooking a finger under the jeweled choker she was wearing - her collar, as it were. She yelped as she was snatched back to his side, and cowered next to him, like a dog.

"Get back here," he snarled. "I'm not in the mood, Delia."

It was then that Narkisa nuzzled his cheek lightly. "She speaks the truth, Master. I smell it, too." Her eyes were a wild, bright gold, dancing with hunger as she, too, had scented out what she could only describe as dinner.

Brennan had no way of knowing just how bad for him it was that Delia's attention had strayed from her master.  Even if Raphael would have reined her in and they'd have moved on, he'd have been alright.  His luck just wasn't going that well lately, obviously.  First, the bad hunt with Crimson's human, and the hunter's lack of ability to even attempt setting bones, despite how badly he'd managed to make it hurt.  They'd both healed together too quickly, before help could arrive, and even Avalon's best doctor hadn't been able to fix them.

That could explain why he was roaming around alone right then, since he'd ditched the rest of the flight for some 'alone time'.  They'd given it to him, considering what he'd gone through, and he was grateful for it.  He had a lot of thinking to do, particularly when he took note of Avalon's situation.  As it was, she was stuck with an absolutely useless alistair.  He couldn't remain as the Head of the Royal Flight, since he couldn't actually FLY, and by all rights, he might as well have been some normal human.  What he'd really valued about being an avian was gone. 

All gone.

He almost thought he knew what Amaltheia had felt like, jumping off that building.  He wasn't quite ready for that, but he was getting there just thinking about how much of his life meant nothing right then.  His wife, his livelihood, his queen, and even his family.  He was worthless to all of them.  None of them would have any use for him, for what would they need a human?  They only cared about avians, and he was no longer among them.  His mother had cried, and his father wasn't speaking to him.  Nobody had taken it well, though they all seemed to forget who was taking it the hardest.

He really should have been paying more attention to where he was going.

He should have.

Narkisa had walked ahead, and had bumped his shoulder with her own, taking in the scent of bird as she turned behind him. "Terribly sorry," she said, but the shine in her golden eyes was quite... unfriendly, despite the empty hollow of her voice. She didn't seem to focus on Brennan as she spoke, but rather, the impending darkness behind him.

"What've we here?" Raphael mused to himself, his low, gravelly voice something akin to Christopher Walkin as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, Delia still practically cowering at his side. "Shouldn't you be, I don't know... higher?" he asked Brennan, his brows raising with his question.

"I told you that I smelled him, I told you," Delia whined incessantly, squirming around in place. She yelped again as Raphael jerked her collar again, and alternated looking down at the ground and up at Brennan, her own eyes as yellow as Narkisa's.

Brennan could have ignored Narkisa bumping into him, and actually intended to.  He didn't care if some woman ran into him, but it was her eyes that drew his own immediately back.  One didn't rise to the position of Commander of the Royal Flight by being completely stupid.  He knew another shifter when he saw one, and he knew an attacker.  He would have faced her entirely had Raphael not spoken up right then and drawn his gaze momentarily.

Great, two more people.  He was outnumbered. 

Even better was taking in the way the man was treating the woman by his side.  It rather effectively informed him of exactly what he was dealing with in just a few instants.  The second girl had the same golden eyes as the first, and she was talking about scent.  That made him instantly think 'wolf', and that she'd even need to TELL the man that she'd smelled him, like he hadn't believed her, made it clear that the man wasn't.  From the looks of it, he was in charge, and Brennan knew enough about the supernatural world to know what that meant.

"Perhaps," he answered stiffly, and that was all Raphael was getting for an answer.  He stood straight, his expression guarded, and he was paying very close attention to Narkisa.  She had too much of what he'd have considered a strategic position to make her anything less than a threat.  They were limiting his movement, his escape routes, and since he couldn't go up anymore, that was a bad sign.  He still had his guns, though.

Narkisa leaned against the brick of the building, looking at her nails lazily. She tossed her long, dark hair back and glanced at Brennan, brows raised. "Master, you shouldn't taunt him. He might fly away, and then we won't have anything to do," she said, her voice lowering an octave, emoting depression. It was funny how realistic it could sound, but if you knew Narkisa, you knew she was lying through her teeth. She didn't feel emotions, she just imitated the sounds and expressions of them to manipulate the things around her, precisely as Raphael had taught her to.

Raphael regarded Brennan with an amused expression, and the vampire continued his stride towards the raven, wondering precisely when he would take his turn to shift and fly away. Raphael did fancy himself a black bird now and again, but he didn't know if he liked one so bold. "Perhaps?" he asked. He took it upon himself to simply reach into the bird's mind and take the information as to why he spoke so boldly for himself, and almost chuckled as he came across Brennan's mental shields. They would have been much trouble for a younger or even inexperienced vampire, but after a few moments of working, and plainly making it obvious that he was doing it, he plucked out what he wanted.

"Feels like someone's picking you up and shaking you around, or so I've been told by the people who have tried to resist me," he offered glibly with a smile, sorting through the information he'd just acquired. "So, Brennan. Can't perform anymore, eh? Have you told the missus yet, or is she just to find out her husband has gone lame of her own accord?"

Raphael really went right for the throat.

Oh, how he wished he could just fly away like the creepier of the two women said.  He'd have preferred it, and probably done so already, if he could have.  That didn't mean he had to let them know that he couldn't, though.  She seemed upset enough about the idea of them not having anything to do, though he wasn't much of an expert on emotions and expressions.  He kept his own to himself, so what would he know of others?

He made it a point not to back off as the man he believed to be a vampire approached him, aware that just about all he had right then was his nerve and a few weapons.  Not much against two wolves and a maybe-vampire.

Nope, definitely a vampire. 

There was no doubt in his mind as to what Raphael was the instant he busted into Brennan's mind, and that violent disorientation and almost-pain was what brought his hand to his forehead so suddenly.  He glared the instant he had his wits about him again, mostly because of the comment, but the violent intrusion was up there for reasons.  He'd officially met his least favorite person.  "That's hardly any of your business, especially without even an attempt at a polite introduction.  You know my name, so who are you?"

Maybe he just didn't care, but even so, his rudeness only went so far.  Brennan, no matter what happened, just wasn't going to top the list of loud, nasty people in the city.  Haughty and proud, though.  Those were more like it.

Raphael paused. "Please allow me to introduce myself," he said. He bowed slightly, and then the smile that crept across his face was one that put the other discomforting looks to shame. Raphael was downright creepu that's what, that and the fact that his introduction was a prelude to 'Sympathy for the Devil' might've had something to do with his dark, unnerving aura. "Raphael Aristos. This charming git is Delia, and that vision of perfection is Narkisa."

Narkisa inclined her head only slightly, while Delia giggled maniacally. She truly was beginning to lose her marbles, turning into some sort of jackal moreso than a wolf.

"I admit, I've been looking to procure a shifter of the... avian persuasion for quite some time, but I believe I would prefer one whose wings weren't clipped just yet." He jeered at Brennan again, unwilling to match the alistair's cordial, reserved nature. Raphael personally had wanted for a long time to break an avian reserve, but the fact that this one was so well trained, well.. Lady Luck had smiled on him, after all.

"Tell me, Little Raven," he said, his voice starting to become... strange. He had picked the nickname effortlessly from Brennan's mind, though he didn't know who called him that or why, just that it was familiar. "What brings you out tonight?"

He was aiming to press on his mind, to see if he could ruffle his feathers, so to speak. He didn't want the man into a full blown panic attack, not yet.

This whole situation was surreal.  Brennan, despite living in a sheltered life amongst the avians being raised specifically for the purpose he was completely useless for right then, knew enough about modern human society to recognize that line.  It wasn't encouraging.

Neither was Delia's maniacal laughter.  Between Raphael's attitude, Narkisa's coldness, and Delia's insanity, even Brennan was starting to get creeped out, and he was pretty good about not letting weird shit mess with him.  "How unfortunate for you, then," he returned, rather...insulted just by the suggestion that if his wings were whole, Raphael would have done anything to 'procure' him.  Hardly.

Of course, the 'Little Raven' thing threw him off, and that actually showed for a moment.  He shouldn't have been surprised, considering Raphael had torn the other things from his brain, but that seemed...different.  Theia was already such a strange part of his recent life that having her quoted here just made it all that much more surreal. 

Cue Raphael's weird-ass power.

Brennan didn't know it, but his training was what was saving him.  That and his stubbornness coupled with the outrage still swimming around his brain at having the facts regarding his situation torn from his mind.  That didn't make him immune, but it meant he wasn't a quivering mess.  He flinched, but he recovered quickly, still standing straight and proud.  He wasn't going to just fall apart for some vampire's amusement.

"That's also none of your business, Mr. Aristos.  I actually don't intend to waste anymore of your time, so if you'll excuse me," he said, and he meant to leave.  It wasn't like he thought he'd just be allowed to, but he wasn't just going to stand there like an idiot.

Upon Brennan taking his leave, Narkisa stiffened, and moved to stand directly behind Brennan, so that when he did turn, he'd be turning into her. Delia, in the meantime, was alternating between a fixed gaze on Raphael and one on Brennan, something she was having a hard time keeping up with. She twitched a little as Raphael used some of his power. She'd learned well that tone of voice, and it sent fear through every ounce of her being, even if it wasn't her he was directing it at. Narkisa didn't flinch, only watched.

"I think it is," Raphael said. He stepped forward, invading, literally, Brennan's personal space. He'd walk him backwards directly into Narkisa if Brennan didn't sidestep, which he wasn't sure if he would do or not. "Tell me, alistair, what is it that keeps you up at night? What tugs at the back of your mind when you're alone? What scares you?"

Brennan almost FELT the movement behind him, being both a bird and a warrior, and made it a point NOT to back into the wolf who'd stepped up behind him.  Not a good idea, as far as he was concerned.  Of course, none of this was a good idea.  Delia's twitching was starting to be rather easily explained.

They were trapping him.  He made it a point not to let his eyes flick about too much, nothing to let them know that he was nervous at the fact that he couldn't just shift and fly away.  He wanted to, and he wasn't used to not being able to, and it was making him feel more panicky than anything they were even attempting to do.  He wanted to FLY.  This wasn't a fight he wanted!

Staying still wasn't an option, and backing up wasn't, so he did all he could.  He shot to the side, quicker than he'd have liked if he were trying to make it obvious that he wasn't afraid (which he was starting to be), but that didn't matter.  He needed distance, so the vampire and the wolves couldn't rush him before he could use a gun.  He didn't answer, and merely because nothing he could have said would have sounded convincing, he wasn't going to name something incorrect, and he wasn't going to tell the truth.  Hell, the fact that part of his nightmare had already come true didn't help.  He didn't need all of it.

Narkisa, even with all of the desire to rip his face off, stood still as he darted past her - simply because she had not been ordered to do otherwise. Delia was rabid, however, and furry claws dug at the wall she was closest to, while her jaw re-fixed itself from lupine to human to lupine to human again. Truly, she was mad, and it only took the release of the collar for her to drop to the disgusting, wet ground and completely shift. She ran in feverish circles, sniffing and starting, making strange, guttural noises as she begged to be let after the prey.

Raphael finally conceded after he'd slowly counted to five, and Delia took off after the bird. Narkisa turned to Raphael, a brow raised. "So it's true what they say about avians," she said. Her tone was bored, but cordial.

"Maybe," Raphael acknowledged, extending an arm for his dark wolf to take hold of. "Maybe, but it won't matter when our rabid counterpart finds him in a few moments. Do you think it was wrong of me to starve her?" he asked, a hint of humour in his voice. Even without the power of fear laced within, the sound itself of his bassy tone was still nerve-wracking.

Narkisa shrugged. "She did not obey," she said simply.

She could smell him, oh, but he smelled like fear and sweat and bothersome feathers, so many feathers, clogging her nose, but they were useless now. She was on his scent, on the trail, on the prowl, tongue hanging out of her mouth as she practically foamed, snout buried to the pavement before she stopped, giving way to her hearing.

One ear fell down while the other perked up, and then they both perked, facing forward, as the red wolf tried to listen to her prey. She hadn't eaten in so long, so very long, she had almost forgotten what it was like, that first taste of flesh. She picked up an unfamiliar noise to her right, and broke into a run again, making menacing, mangy growing noises in her throat as she moved.

Brennan didn't think any of this was funny.  Not one SECOND of it, and he actually hadn't intended to run until the crazy woman shifted and started freaking out.  The instant she was after him was the instant he bolted.  He wasn't stupid.  He might not have shrieked in terror or anything like a human might have, but he wasn't sticking around for that, and he was definitely scared of having those teeth sinking into him.  Teeth were not good.

Neither was the fact that he couldn't outrun a rabid wolf, to be honest.  Even as he ran, he was drawing a gun to protect himself with, and it was only when he could put a dumpster to his back that he twisted around to fire at her.  He didn't miss often, especially when it mattered and he had an ounce of concentration, and he actually twisted away from the dumpster he'd landed with his back against, slipping around the side of it in case she decided to impact it.  He wasn't getting crushed and caught that way.

Keep moving... 

Moving would keep him alive, so long as he could manage it.  Stay away from the teeth, and move.  Keep shooting.

Good plan.  Too bad it'd never work flawlessly.

Delia leaped, and was immediately knocked out of the air, by a loud sound. It nearly made her go deaf, and she lay on the ground for a second, before the burning sensation started around her side. She couldn't process what it was, like a bee sting, only much more intense, and from.. the inside! It hurt, and she howled angrily, making the most god-awful racket as she spun around, trying to nose at the wound, which was profusely bleeding already.

From behind the dumpster, noise, and she forgot her purpose for a moment. She laid her ears back against her head and curled her lips back in a snarl. As she came across the side of the dumpster, she saw Brennan's gun facing her, and without a second thought, jumped again, this time not for his body, but rather, his arm. Another round was fired off, but Delia managed to bring too much movement, and the bullet whizzed past her, singing some of the fur on her back as it buried itself into a crack of the pavement.

Teeth sank down into warm flesh, spilling blood outward, across her jaws. Yellow eyes danced with fire as she clamped down, delivering 1500 pounds of pressure per square inch. She shook her head furiously, trying her hardest to get him to release the gun. The blood was metallic and red, and it tasted like happiness to Delia, like familiarity, like life. Like survival. Like obedience. She yanked on Brennan hard, throwing her weight opposite his own. She'd either rip his arm off or throw him down on the ground, but either way, she wasn't going to let go without taking the arm with her.

Her fur had begun to mat profusely against her side as dark, viscous blood seeped from her own wound. The bullet had grazed something vital, at least. If Brennan could manage to stave her off, he might survive.

When Raphael heard the gunshots, he paused. "Methinks our little Delia has bitten off more than she can chew," he said slowly. At Narkisa's motion to shift, he stayed her, taking her by the shoulder harshly. "No. She either will or she will not, but interfere now and I'll never know if my training has paid off."

He had a few instants to consider just how bad being bitten by those snarling jaws would be before she was on him, and he hadn't done the feeling any justice.  It HURT like nothing he'd ever felt before, but even worse was that it didn't for the first few seconds.  At first, it was just a huge pressure, and then the pain came with the blood, and he actually screamed.  It was a pained, but seriously pissed off, cry and something which had been accompanied by the second gunshot.  There would have been a third if she hadn't been trying to diligently to tear his arm off, and he certainly wasn't interested in obliging her.  Holding onto the weapon with his muscles being torn into wasn't working out for him, though.  He tried, but she finally jerked just right, and the weapon dropped even as his body started to fall. 

He had another gun and another hand, and even after impacting the ground to avoid having his arm ripped out of its socket wasn't going to stop him from getting to the second firearm.  Better than she chew on his arm than his throat, anyway.

Other than that scream, he didn't make a single sound more than a few sharp breaths. 

There was something to be said about the sound of a scream being music to Delia's ears, and that probably spoke volumes of the amount of time in close quarters she had spent with Raphael and Narkisa as of late. When Brennan dropped to the ground, she released his arm intending to bite him square in the face, but another gunshot caused her to yelp. He'd gotten her square in the chest that time.

She was bleeding on him as much as he was bleeding on the concrete they were both atop, but still, she couldn't cease until she had won. She lunged at his throat, though her strength was severely diminished. She missed, and took a huge bite down onto his collar bone, jaws easily crushing more of the delicate avian structure. She worried at it furiously, growling and making strange, disgusting sounds as she dug at him with her massive clawed paws.

She began to feel light, though, like she were lifting off of the ground. The blood loss was getting to her, even as a shifter, so many injuries at close quarters could not be so easily healed. The biting grew less and less, and her breathing more laboured, before finally, she just sort of gave up, and rolled off of him, burying her nose and whining as she found it increasingly harder to sustain consciousness.

That was, of course, when Raphael and Narkisa rounded the corner. "Hm," the vampire said to himself. "It seems you've injured my pet." He knelt down, wrapping an arm around Delia. He couldn't push her back into her human form, but he could still move between locations with her like this. Narkisa came to his side again, wrapping her hand around one of his.

"Let's hope you bleed to death," he said, with a bright, cheerful sort of smile. And with that, the vampire and both of the female shifters had vanished.