Better Stand Tall

[Kieran O'Riley]

Kieran had no problem walking Camille out for some fresh air, especially after catching up with Claire and seeing that she and Rook were both fine and still busy.  It gave him something to do and someone to talk to, which was actually pretty appreciated, even if he had to suffer through the clove cigarette's smoke that was almost painfully strong in his canine nostrils.  He was a smoker himself, but the spicy scent of her cigarette made his nose burn.  She was friendly and apologized for the smell, at least, right?

Oh, and then she butchered a 'line', fantastic!  He grinned, unable to resist being a little pleased with the fact that he was totally being hit on, even if it wasn't very smooth flirting, and he leaned against the building while she rephrased her question.  "They usually close about now, actually.  It's just not this busy so late most nights," he told her with a shrug, crossing his tattooed arms over his chest with absolutely no clue that this girl's ex-boyfriend was about to show up and see her looking extra hot and talking to Kieran.  

"Hopefully, they'll close up soon so I can see Claire off, but that's about all I have going on tonight.  You have a ride home, right?" he asked, aware both from her behavior and the smell of liquor on her that she'd had too much to drink.  He could see her home without being a dirtbag, and hopefully get her number out of her.  That would be pretty sweet, or he thought so until he heard some dude bitch about 'Ed Hardy', 'Affliction', Camille and a 'stupid fucking slut', which effectively caught his attention.  He wasn't exactly the most prone to fights, so he wasn't going to walk over there and break the drunk's face, but he'd heard, and he definitely made it clear when he glared over at the two idiots that he had.  The fact that the dude knew Camille was interesting, though.

He glanced back at her, the amusement of a moment before gone from his features as he cocked an eyebrow up.  "Do you know those assholes?" he asked, gesturing with a nod towards the morons in question.  If she had something bad to say about them, he wasn't going to play peacekeeper when they approached.  They looked stupid enough to walk over, too.

[Jared Bastian]

So, Jared was drunk after snacking on that chick, but Ryan was even worse off.  Jared had still been able to drive, and had even managed to get them there in one piece, believe it or not.  That didn't mean he had any ability to talk his friend out of trying to pound Ed Hardy's face in when they found Camille flirting with him, and why should he?  If he found Angela with some dude, he'd probably kill the guy, too.  He didn't blame Ryan in the least.

He also wasn't going to let Ryan know that he could see the dude's tattoos in detail from where they were and thought some of them were cool.  "Hey, dude, your new boyfriend's giving you googly eyes and he's definitely not drunk," he pointed out instead, figuring he might as well get that out there.  Need to know, and all that.  It was odd that the tattooed guy had heard them from there, since Jared didn't think Ryan had been that obvious, but then Kieran nodded as though he'd heard Jared speak, and the vampire grit his teeth together and practically bared them.  

Fucker ain't human, whatever he is.  His hearing's too damn good.

All the more reason to make sure he didn't mean Camille any harm, right?  Unless she was secretly Buffy the Vampire Slayer right there with Angela, which didn't seem likely, Jared was willing to bet she had no idea what Kieran was and how much damage he could do.  Stupid bitch.  She was going to end up like Jared himself if she didn't learn fast, and wouldn't that just suck?  Personally, Jared didn't give a fuck and would have left her to it if not for Ryan being there.  Ryan obviously cared, so as long as he didn't project nasty 'lovelovelovelovelove' vibes around Camille, Jared could handle helping him out with his ex-girl.  

[Ryan Shane]

Ryan had righted himself again by the time that Jared started talking, but neither of them had made any move to go into the bar. They were both transfixed on Camille -- or rather, Ryan was, and Jared was settled on watching him make an ass of himself. That was fine. He certainly wasn't projecting love vibrations Jared's way, though - it was surprisingly all hate. It was something Jared could probably relate to, come to think of it. Ryan took a long drag off of his cigarette and then gestured to Camille, who he saw looking over his shoulder.

"Hey, where's your brother? Inside holding your purse?" he called. That ought to piss her off.

He looked back at Jared with his glassy gaze. "Fuck is Ed smiling at?" he asked him. His gestures were loose and jerky at the same time - only someone totally obliterated could maintain this level of stupor and still be upright, but that was Ryan. He looked back at Camille, who he could see had fully turned to him. She said something he couldn't hear, and he put his hand up to his ear.

"SORRY BITCH, CAN'T HEAR YOU."

She cupped her hands to her mouth and called him a needle dick, and Ryan looked at Jared, his brows raised. "Yeah?" he said. He turned back to where she and the fairy Ed were, and shouted back to her, "TELL YOUR FAGGOT BROTHER TO STOP TRYING TO SEND ME LOVE MESSAGES!"

That was sure to piss her off, and judging by her facial expression of Ed Hardy behind her, nobody expected that to be the right button to get pressed except for Ryan. He looked triumphant that he'd made her cry  - that was, until she flew off of the step and got into his face with such speed that it made his asshole pucker a little. He shook it off and flicked his cigarette butt at her for good measure, though.

"FUCK YOU!" he yelled, just because she was close enough that he could get that point through her head that he fucking hated her.

[Camille Farrell]

 Camille shrugged a little. "I had a ride home until I started drinking more," she admitted. She succumbed to the strength of the Djarum Black that she had in her fingertips, throwing it into the tall smoke receptacle that had been put in place out front. She watched smoke teem out of the opening from dozens of cigarettes people had put in that were yet to extinguish themselves, and brushed her hair away from her face while taking a few steps away from it, rotating from the left of Kieran to the right more. "Now I guess it depends on this place. If they stay open later, I will remain here. If not... I'll probably call a girlfriend to come and get me." Would Angela be able to come and get her? She supposed she could call a few people - Seth, Dominic, hell, even her brother, provided none of them were in the city right about then. When Kieran asked her if she knew 'those assholes', though, she made a face without even having to turn around.

"Shortish, punkish, drunkish?" she asked, brows raised. "Yeah. Old high school losers that NOBODY CARES ABOUT ANYMORE," she shouted, turning around to roll her eyes over her shoulder at Ryan as he yelled something she couldn't hear. She turned more fully from Kieran and made a gesture to him along with a face and some arm waving, which translated into "I can't fucking hear you, retard." When she did that, Ryan screamed at her.

"You are such a fucking needle dick!" she shouted back at him. By now, the crowd had begun to hush a little, just because fights were always a good train wreck to watch. Ryan seemed to consult Jared for his next retort, which Camille was ready for - or so she thought. When he insulted her brother, though, she moved with a quickness at him like he'd just held out the keys to a brand new Porsche. She wasn't really looking to get into a screaming match, though she opened her mouth anyways and called him a loser all the same.

He screamed at her and flicked his cigarette at her, which hit her square on the arm. By now, Kieran was coming up behind her, and after being burned by Ryan's cigarette this was sure to be a quick fight for him - but first, Camille wanted to accomplish something. Angela had taught her how to hit, and she balled her first up, cocked back, and punched Ryan right in the jaw. It didn't happen that slowly, of course - it happened so fast that Jared sprang off of the hood of the car into laughter, but only because she'd hit Ryan with such force that she'd sent him back against the car. He'd connected with the bumper and folded over in fast-forward.

Camille leaned over and grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking it over his head. She started yelling a string of insults, no longer really something that they could understand, and began throwing her elbows and fists down on him. He was grabbing at her ankles and trying to defend himself at the same time until in one final yell she kicked, and felt herself lifting off of the ground. One strong arm was around her waist, but not before she'd grabbed a downed beer bottle. She flung it at Jared as Kieran got her arms under control, and she shouted, "Angela hopes you fucking die!" at him.

Two for one tonight, Camille was really making friends.

[Veronica Cross]

From inside, Veronica wasn't sure she'd heard properly what was happening right away. She sipped her gin and tonic and wandered around, squeezing through the crowds of people as she came across them. She hadn't found anyone worth kidnapping, unless you counted the splendidly large male wolf that was seated at a table in the back talking to Daniel Cooper, but V knew she was no match for him. She wasn't stupid, and that was why she was still alive. She slid beyond a good-looking hunter and his vampire-trying-to-play-human girlfriend and went to the door, which is when she heard the swearing and yelling.

She opened it up just in time to see Kieran shoot off of the porch after the blonde human, and the taunting continue from the boys by the car in the middle of the gravel lot, which by now had cleared out a little. She hesitated, and then grabbed for her phone quite briskly. "Yes, hello, Yvette? I've found Ryan Shane. Am I sure? I'll send you a photo with an address." She hung up, and then took a picture of Ryan right before the blonde girl busted him in the mouth, and texted it to Yvette's e-mail with an address for the Hole in the Wall attached to it.

No more than a minute passed before her phone rang. "Keep him here?" Veronica parroted. "I can try. He's getting his ass kicked right now, but I'll see what I can do." And with a sigh, she set her drink down on the thick wooden railing that lined the porch, walking as slowly as possible towards the situation. She'd like to arrive after the wolf had diffused it, personally. Ryan was drunk and from his profile probably not afraid to hit a girl - and his vampire friend, well, Veronica couldn't defend herself accurately without setting him off. She flipped into innocent, Single Earth mode, and her mind went free of all of those Midnight-related thoughts. Her goal had suddenly become to help, though she kept a good distance from them and tried to look as unthreatening as possible.

[Kieran O'Riley]

Okay, so this had gone from stupid to dangerous in no time flat, especially when there was a vampire on the other side when Camille flipped out on the one that kept taunting her.  Kieran had no idea that it was going to advance to this point so quickly, thus his choice to simply follow her when she rushed the other guy, and he almost expected to have to take the vampire to avoid Camille getting destroyed.  What he hadn't realized was that the vampire dissolved into hysterical laughter while his friend got beat on by Camille, showing absolutely no concern for Ryan's well-being.  Apparently, Jared thought his buddy could take it.

That didn't mean that Kieran did, especially since Ryan had resorted to trying to protect himself while Camille unloaded on him and Jared laughed his ass off.  He rushed Camille, grabbing her with an arm around her waist while he snatched at the bottle she'd scooped up.  It wasn't like it mattered all that much; she'd chucked the bottle at Jared, and he'd dodged it as quickly as he'd leaped off of the car when Ryan fell backwards against it, still laughing despite Camille's harsh words. 

"Whatever, bitch.  You can tell that whore that I've been nothing but loyal to her.  She's the one who abandoned me!" the vampire spat, making it even more clear to Kieran that this was a situation that he knew nothing about (and didn't want to). 

"Hey, calm down.  I'm not putting you down until you relax," he warned her quietly, holding her firmly against his body with the one arm around her waist and the other holding her wrists so that she couldn't scramble for another weapon or wriggle her way free.  So far, Ryan had taken her abuse and Jared hadn't done more than bitch back, but Kieran didn't want it to escalate.  Not with Camille here, anyway.  He might have disagreed if an obvious potential victim hadn't been hanging around.

Speaking of which, he gave Veronica an unpleasant look as she hit the scene, not so certain that he was alright with it.  In fact, he decided he wasn't, which meant that he wanted her gone.  He didn't have to be an ass about it, but this wasn't a situation that needed MORE fodder.  "I got it covered, thanks.  You should probably head back inside, before something else happens and people get hurt," he told her.  She was giving off more in the way of 'victim vibes' than Camille was, which he didn't like.  Better to avoid it. 

Too bad Chris hadn't noticed what was going on.  He'd have been more than happy to gank Jared for Angela, or at least to beat the shit out of him in her honor.

[Ryan Shane]

 Ryan wanted to hit Camille back, badly, but that bitch was faster than he remembered her being. Was she some sort of shapeshifter now? He pushed her while she hit him as best she could, but she got in some kicks before Ed Hardy yanked her up and away. He dodged as a beer bottle went sailing past him, Jared the intended target. He spit a mouthful of blood and snot in her direction, the glob falling shorter than he'd have liked and landing on the rocks near Ed's feet.

"Fuck you!" he spat at her. "What's your daddy gonna think when he finds out you were at this shithole, anyways, Barbie?" he snapped. He picked himself up off of the ground, giving Veronica a glare as she inched closer to him. When Kieran tried to tell her to go away, though, he snorted rudely. "Don't let Reverse Ken Doll tell you what to do," Ryan told her, his eyes fixed at the blood running down his arm from where he was trying to stop his bloody nose.

Veronica looked at Kieran, glad that he'd fallen for her act. Outwardly, she pursed her lips, exhaling through her nose. She didn't have her purse, which meant that she didn't have any of her first aid kit with her, and she didn't really want to ruin her sweater, but she supposed she'd have to play this part as best she could. She stripped her sweater off with a sweeping motion of her hands, and then pulled her tank top off from beneath it. She pulled her sweater back on after being exposed with just her black bra and jeans for a moment, and then reached out for Ryan.

"Let me see your nose," she said. The way she said it made Ryan want to do it, and she knew it, but he still hesitated, eyes narrowing at her. "Come on, let me see it. I'll make the bleeding stop for you."

Ryan looked at Jared, and then at Camille and Kieran. "Sure, okay," he said. He sat down on the hood of his car and let her approach him. Couldn't beat a bitch stripping down to help him out, could you? He could hear Camille's giant mouth open to say something again, and he held his hand up to her.

"Why don't you have your new boyfriend take you somewhere else before you get hurt?" he suggested, though the way he said it sounded like a threat.

"Stop, please," Veronica said, dabbing gently at Ryan's face. She took his chin in her slender, delicate hand, turning his head so that he looked at her. He was about her height now that he was sitting down, and she forced him to look into her eyes. Tiny, but commanding. Ryan could dig it. "Sit still and I'll help you. Keep trying to start a fight, and I'll leave."

Ryan made some sort of smug facial expression, smiling through bleeding teeth, and spread his legs a little so she could get closer to him. When she stepped in, he closed them, giving her a little squeeze. When she caught his eyes, his intent was dark, but completely carnal and human. Veronica had seen people give her half-hearted glances that scared her more in Midnight, so she blew it off, but she made sure to look away as though he'd made her uncomfortable.

[Camille Farrell]

 Camille thrashed around until it became clear that Kieran wasn't going to let her go. When the brunette acted all coy with Ryan, she opened her mouth to make a rude remark, but Ryan was already on top of her verbally. She thought better of it and closed her mouth, relaxing under Kieran's grasp until he had the presence of mind to let her go. She wasn't going to suggest they go back inside, but only because it was her pride telling her not to be the first one to walk away.

When he finally did let her go, she looked Jared square in the eye. "I hope she makes your head explode," she said coldly. She turned and began walking back to the bar, and that was when she heard a loud popping sound. She let out a yelp, because it felt like someone had hit her with a whip that had razorblades on the end of it, and whatever it had been had spun her around so that she was facing the group as they stood, staring at her. The other side was worse - it was the exit wound. From the back, it could have been a paintball, but from the front...

Camille looked down, and then back up, her mouth open in shock. She stumbled backwards and fell, and then she heard more of the same noise. Kieran fell across her, his upper body covering most of hers as he tried to determine how conscious she was. She heard slamming car doors and screaming, and then the sound of Ryan's Nova start up. It must have been Jared driving, because rocks and dirt went everywhere, and then the car hit the road sideways, taking off into the night. The brunette girl was gone also, because she'd flown off as soon as the first gunshot had happened.

The parking lot had exploded to life, with people running every which way and cars tearing out of the lot. Camille couldn't see what was going on, because Kieran kept screaming at her to stay with him. She didn't understand what he meant - she was with him, of course, right there on the ground - but then the ground felt like it wasn't there at all, and she wanted to close her eyes for a while.

[Jared Bastian]

Jared had to admit, he'd been having a pretty good night before they ran into Camille.  Then, it swiftly went downhill.  He'd even been in great spirits about Ryan getting his ass kicked (by a girl), having a bottle thrown at him, and Camille throwing nasty things at him involving Angela.  He'd dealt with it well, and brushed it off like it didn't bother him.  It was a lie, but he made it work.  Credit where it was due, right?  Except, Camille wasn't done.  Personally, Jared hadn't done a damn thing, and actually hadn't said anything to her until she brought up Angela and threw the bottle at him, which made him an innocent victim in all this, as far as he was concerned.  She was starting to piss him off, though.

He ignored the new girl, other than watching carefully as she pulled her shirt off to tend to Ryan.  As she got close to them, he could smell bird on her, which meant she was a shapeshifter and he instantly didn't trust her.  He didn't like shapeshifters at all (especially fucking lions, those assholes), so he had his eye on her.  He could watch her and hate Camille at the same time, though.

"You know, I didn't say shit to you, you little fucking bitch," he snarled from the seat on the hood of the car that he'd retaken.  "Why don't you shut your big fucking mouth about Angela and let me torment myself on my own?  It must be real easy from that fancy fucking house of yours to look down on us, but at least we know a thing or two about loyalty and relationships."

Everyone, mark that down, because Jared was actually being deep for a second.  It sucked, because he could totally sympathize with Ryan's anger and pain over the Camille situation; he was in a similar spot with Angela.  He didn't want to admit it, but he loved that bitch, and Ryan's advantages were that he wasn't an Akka that couldn't be around things he loved and Camille wasn't in the business of killing vampires.  Ryan was still suffering for the fact that he cared about Camille, and Camille was being a bitch.  Why did they even bother, seriously?

Personally, he thought it was funny that she screamed shit from the safety of Ed Hardy's arms, but he didn't much care.  It wasn't like he was going to break her face, which would be what happened if he laid a hand on her.  He couldn't much stand her, but he wasn't about to kill her; he wasn't that crazy just yet.  Besides, Ryan would never forgive him, and he'd already addressed the fact that they both knew how to appreciate people.  Jared wouldn't do that to his best friend.

If Camille had anything additional to say, she didn't get that far.  Jared saw the movement before the gunshots rang out, heard something that caught his attention and made him MOVE.  He honestly didn't give a shit about anyone there except for Ryan, which was why he grabbed his best friend and essentially plucked him right off the car and tossed him to the other side for some cover.  He wasn't quite fast enough, bullets whizzing past and Ryan himself yelling, but that was better than Ryan being dead. 

"Dude, shut up and get in the fucking car!" he screamed, bolting for the driver's side door and screaming again wordlessly as he and his car were sprayed with bullets.  He lost his feet, hit the pavement hard, and dragged himself up by the door handle, ripping it open in the process so that he could climb in and tear off.  There was a rush of feathers as a bird flew INTO his car, but until he was spitting gravel and on his way out of the parking lot, he didn't pay attention to the fact that Veronica had shown up in the backseat.

He glanced at Ryan, saw his friend holding his side where he was crouched in the passenger seat, and the turned his eyes back on the road.  "Hey, how bad are you?" he asked quickly, simultaneously trying to make sense of himself.  His left leg and a few spots on his torso were on fire, which was why he'd fallen, but he hadn't been hit in the heart or the head, so that was a damn good deal.  He'd heal up, however much it fucking hurt and destroyed his ability to be friendly. 

Where the fuck were they even going? 

[Kieran O'Riley]

At first, Kieran had no intention of letting Camille go.  As far as he was concerned, she was lucky the vampire hadn't gotten involved, so he wasn't giving her the chance to make the dude change his mind.  He only released her when she'd stopped struggling against him, and then she dropped a parting comment before turning back towards the bar.  Seemed like a good idea to him, especially if that crazy girl was going to strip in front of all of them in order to deal with Ryan's nose.  Seriously?  Kieran was pretty sure that the guy wasn't going to bleed to death from a bloody nose, so taking off and ruining her shirt was unnecessary.  That made him think she was an attention whore, which made his impression of her drop quite a few times.  Besides, who chose to get involved with some dude fighting with his ex-girlfriend?  Kieran was only involved because he'd agreed to escort Camille outside for a little, and he wasn't going to leave her alone out there.

It was a good thing, too.  If he'd have left her out there, she'd have probably died.  As it was, the gunfire came too fast for him to protect her completely, which meant that she did take a bullet as he was lunging for her.  She hesitated a second while everyone else stared, and he wrapped her up in his arms as she started to fall, bullets suddenly raining on the group as a whole.  That 'warning shot' or whatever it was only gave Kieran enough time to curl his body around her as he took them to the ground, trying to determine if she was going to be okay even as he heard someone approaching quickly. 

"Camille!  Stay with me!  I mean it, watch me, look at me, stay awake!" he shouted, giving her a small shake to try to keep her conscious before he had to pay attention to whoever was coming.  He jerked his body up to snarl at their attacker, eyes flashing amber as he crouched in front of Camille's fallen form, but this was never meant to be a fair fight.  As soon as their was a sign of life and fight out of him, whoever was out there opened fire again, taking him in the shoulder and twisting him around towards Camille.  He made eye contact with her for a horrifying instant of her consciousness seeming to fade, screamed at her to stay awake rather than just sounding urgent, and if she was at all aware at that point, she may have seen the man who'd come at them level his gun at Kieran's back.  Why not his head, he had no clue, but perhaps capture was supposed to be the next step.  Either way, the bullet rocketed through his back and busted its way out his chest, spraying Camille with his blood before it smacked into the pavement and ricocheted away.  He choked, his arms faltering in holding himself off of her for a second as his eyes went wild with pain, but he caught himself just before he would have crushed her already injured frame. 

If he was of any other lines, that might have been it right there.  People were screaming and running around, there were shouts coming from the door to the bar, but that didn't mean that they were safe.  Kieran was pretty sure he was going to die, but his father had raised a strong heir from a strong wolf bloodline, and Thane's son held on just so that he could do some damage.  Even if not for himself, he couldn't let Camille die like this.  She would survive, he was determined, but he was too damaged to get up and fight, that much was certain.  That was where the other half of his bloodline came in handy; the Grigore half.  If there were two things that the Grigores dealt well in, it was blood and vengeance.  There was blood everywhere, so that wasn't a problem, and Kieran was definitely interested in vengeance right then.  He could feel his strength ebbing away, lowering him ever further over Camille (maybe his form could protect her from further injury), and he just gave in and laid there.  His fingers trailed into the blood, tracing through it as he focused the intuitive magics that his grandmother and great-grandmother had fought so hard to teach him.  There were words as well, spoken so quietly that they were hardly a breath on the air, but they didn't need to be loud.  It heard. 

A shadow flit across the parking lot, just one, then followed by another and finally a third.  They shot from one pool of darkness to another, the high sound of chatting voices following them along and being lost in the chaos, but Kieran heard it like music to his ears.  Help, revenge, saviors, killers, they were here.  He heard the screams, heard the chaos become more, and there was a final shot from the man who'd walked closer to strike him a lasting final blow.  At that point, his back exploding into just too much, his hand splayed into the blood and his concentration erupted into nothing more than white noise, but the damage was done.  The first wave was down and out.

[Daniel Cooper]

Nobody ever gave Coop any credit.  Sure, his watch was broken and he lost track of time, and yes, he'd had a rough night, but he started this place back up by bartending alone until the crowds got big enough and the money good enough that he could hire waitresses and bartenders.  He could do the job, and well, but they were busy as hell and he was a little rusty.  Besides, Clarissa had reorganized behind the bar, and he didn't know where anything was.  She snapped at him to go change, so he disappeared, but he vanished to get a glass of water and get a 'big picture' of the evening.  That included checking the time and making last call while Clarissa was out back with her sister.  He was on it, no problem.

He was ready for this night to be over, too.  He couldn't complain that they were making amazing money, but Clarissa wasn't the only one who knew that they'd be in deep shit if they stayed open too late, so he was moving things along.  He didn't want legal trouble, that was for sure.  He was even starting to get a handle on the whole situation, grinning at Clarissa and Melissa as they returned, when the gunshots exploded outside. 

Coop had training, everyone seemed to forget that on a regular basis, and he had left the police force by choice.  He reached behind one of the coolers to pull out a handgun, shouting for Clarissa to call the police as he took off for the door.  "Nathaniel!  Move!" he yelled, knowing that his friend and former partner had to already be headed his way.  This was his place, and he'd be damned if he didn't see what the hell was going on.

Hell, he might be damned for seeing what was happening.  He hit the doorway and had to duck back inside as bullets hit the front of the building, but other than a sharp curse, he went right back out, keeping low.  "If I get shot outside my own bar, I'm going to be sooooo mad," he murmured to himself, keeping low and running for the first car that he could use as cover.  He heard the much larger man leave the building behind him and didn't even spare his partner a glance.  He was too interested in the shadows he was seeing flit across the parking lot, causing him pause behind his cover while he just watched.  They rushed the men that had been shooting (who immediately started screaming), and all Coop saw was blood as they went down.  Yeah, that made him want to run out there.

"Oh, fuck," he swore, tearing his eyes away from the shadows to see who was injured.  There was a man on the ground, body draped over a woman, and Coop could see that underneath the blood, there were tattoos all up the man's arm.  Claire's fucking brother.  "Fuck!"

He had to hope that the shadows were on their side, rushing to Kieran's side as he took in the surroundings.  It didn't look like anyone who'd been shooting was still standing, incredibly, but he wasn't going to overthink it.  He just prayed that Claire didn't get anywhere near the doorway to see this.  They had to get Kieran and the girl some help, and fast.

[Frank Laun]

Before Mike had even ended the phone call Frank was out of bed and on his feet. He quickly began suiting up in his full set of combat gear. As he had learned more about the Supernatural, and more importantly more about killing them he had developed a unique set of "armor" for hunting. He quickly donned a sleeveless black t-shirt and a pair of BDU pants. Over the t-shirt went his modified Kevlar vest complete with Ceramic trauma plates that could take a rifle round or a jab from a younger vamp. He quickly tied up his combat boots and strapped on his knee pads and thigh holster for his XD. Reaching up to another shelf he grabbed his leather wrist gauntlets that would off him some protection from claws or vampire teeth, on the same shelf were also his elbow pads and the improvised steel pauldrons he had built to protect his shoulders. When Mike first saw the gear he told Frank it made him look like the Comedian from Watchmen or one of the guys from Army of Two or some other fucking game he was always playing.

Frank grabbed his P99c off his nightstand and put it in his ankle holster, and sheathed his K-bar in the opposite boot. His machete went into its sheath on his back and he grabbed his shortened Saiga .308 and attached it to its 1 point sling so it sat nicely across his chest, ready at a moments notice, and he could even drive with the stock folded. Glancing around the apartment he made sure that there was nothing he was forgetting. As he walked out the front door he grabbed the modified Saiga 12 gauge that was leaned up next to it and attached it to another sling on his combat vest so it hung behind him but slight under his arm for quick access. If Mike said SHIT was going down, Frank was taking no fucking chances.

He debated whether to clear the way to his car with the pistol or the rifle, then decided his neighbors could go fly a fucking kite if he scared them with the rifle. He quickly brought it up and flipped the stock on his rifle out. He raised it to his shoulder and quickly but cautiously made his way to his Grand National. Tucking the stock under his arm he could still hip fire if he needed to he fished his keys out with his other hand and opened the car door. Frank started the car and slammed it into reverse. If Midnight wanted a war, they would get a fucking war he decided. As he pulled out of the parking lot he reached under the passenger seat and pulled out the sawed off Road Warrior style double barrel he kept there and sat it in easy reach on the passenger seat.

Frank pulled out his phone and dialed Skye's number, figuring his old partner might have some damn clue as to what was going on. It went straight to her voicemail, which meant she was either fighting right now or on the line. He then tried Connor's phone, and disturbingly got no answer...it just rang and rang...maybe the shit had hit the Guildhouse?

"Fucking Vampires", he said listening to the ringing phone.

Fucking Vampires indeed, while Frank was paying attention to driving and to trying to contact his Guild he failed to notice the black Tahoe SS that had whipped out of the apartment complex parking lot behind him. It wasn't until he stopped to check for traffic before blowing a red light that he noticed the damn thing FLYING up onto his ass, clearly going for a ramming move. Frank mashed the gas, but the modified turbo V6 decided it wanted to break his ass end loose. When the tires finally hooked up the SUV was almost at impact. Since he had some forward momentum Frank was able to lay into the gas and crank the wheel when the Tahoe hit him.

The force of the impact and his quick thinking resulted in him busting a U Turn in the intersection. He already had his window down in case he need to fire, so he grabbed the double barrel as he began to spin and he knew he would at least get a shot at the rear passenger in the SUV. He aimed across his chest with his right hand and fired into the blacked out window. Instead of buckshot or slugs, this little gun was loaded with flechette rounds, each shell had dozens of tiny razor sharp darts designed to shred anything in their path, and Frank's gun discharged both barrels at once, it was a one hitter quitter most of the time. There was a satisfying explosion of glass and gore that let him know he had at least hurt one of the bastards.

The problem in this situation Frank knew as he saw the Tahoe flip a bitch and start gaining on him again was that he could out run the damn things normally, but this one was modified and it had the advantage of All Wheel Drive. He tried to dip off onto a side street but miscalculated his speed and his ass end started to slide. As he tried to correct the Tahoe slammed into the rear passenger tire, disabling his sending him off into a ditch. Fortunately it also crumpled the nose of the SUV and from the steam cloud it was most likely disabled as well. Frank quickly kicked the door open and dropped out, using his car as cover as he brought his rifle up and sprayed the SUV.

As the first rounds impacted the windshield the doors flew open on the passenger side only. Two vampires against one hunter....one very, very pissed off hunter. Frank managed to put a round in the knee of the front seat passenger dropping him momentarily, and the rear seat passenger dove behind the rear of the Tahoe for cover. Frank used this momentary distraction to pop his trunk, he had a surprise in there for these sons of bitches. He opened the duffle bag laying there to reveal a Vietnam era M-70 40mm Grenade launcher. He quickly loaded a shell and slammed it shut with a satisfying metallic clack followed shortly by the hollow thump sound of the round firing. It hit the front of the Tahoe and exploded, blasting the vampire on the ground in half. Frank fired a 3 round burst of .308 into his head and what remained of his chest just to be sure. 3 down....but where the hell was number 4? He dropped the rifle to hang against his chest and brought up the shotgun as he approached the now burning Tahoe.

He quickly checked inside, but it was all bits and pieces now that remained. He swept around the back, but found no one there. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, he thought...bastard teleported. As he turned to head back to his car to collect his weapons and head out on foot the shotgun was ripped from his grip and tossed across the road. He spun fully around to find himself eye to black eye with the 4th vampire. Too close for the rifle, and too close to draw a pistol. Before he could figure out his next move the vampire punched him swiftly in the chest, probably looking to rip out his heart or some stupid shit. Instead, Frank felt the ceramic plate in his vest and a couple of his ribs fracture. The force of the blow knocked him against the the Tahoe and gave him enough distance from his attacker to reach behind him and draw his machete. He swung it in a quick arc down from his shoulder as the Vampire closed on him. The vamp realized its mistake in time to move inhumanly back, Franks blow just grazing its face and drawing blood.

The Vampire again darted in and this time Frank went low with the machete drawing its razor sharp blade across his adversary's stomach. The Vampire hissed in pain and confusion as its guts fell to the ground, and enraged simply grabbed the machete with its hands and despite tearing its own flesh, ripping it from Frank's hands. It swung another hard blow that caught Frank on the shoulder and sent him sprawling. He impacted the ground hard, seeing stars for a brief moment, but his training paid off because without a conscious thought his K-bar was out of its boot sheath and in his hand. As the Vampire closed in on him on the ground Frank thrust the blade out and caught the Vampire right in the throat with it. Gagging, gurgling and gasping all mixed together came from the Vampire as the blood sprayed from the wound as Frank withdrew the knife. The Vampire, already disemboweled and now bleeding profusely from its neck sagged to its knees. "Oh no motherfucker, its not going to be that easy!", Frank shouted as he grabbed the....creature...by its hair and drug it over to a near by curb and forced its mouth open on it. "This is for my goddamn car you motherfucker", he said as he reared back and curb stomped the Vampire. Its skull split with a wet crunch and just to be sure Frank drew the .45 XD and put 3 in its chest and 2 more into the ruin of its head.

He staggered under the pain of his broken ribs, and aching shoulder back to get his shotgun, then to his demolished car to get the rest of the weaponry. He grunted with pain and effort as he pulled the heavy duffle bag out of the trunk and turned to get his bearings. He was to far from Crimson to hoof it, Frost was closer but in all the confusion he didn't want one of those crazy bastards to accidentally take him out. The nearest "safe" place he could think of was his favorite nearby bar, Hole in the Wall which was just a few blocks away.

As Frank neared the bar he heard shooting and screams which sent him instinctively to his belly in the ditch, he low crawled the last couple hundred yards, and was with in sight of the bar as he saw muzzle flashes, then something, then heard more screaming. As he hauled himself to a crouch and prepared to move as fast as he could to a nearby car for cover he saw the owner of the place come out the front door gun in hand. Over the past months Frank had gotten to know the owner since he frequented the place on most nights when not out hunting, and had busted up a couple drunken brawls that had erupted too close to his table and spilled his drink.

"Coop...its Frank! I'm coming toward you from about your 7'oclock don't fucking shoot me!", he shouted as he he crawled amongst the cars for cover, grateful for the elbow and knee pads...fuck what Mike had to say about his gear! 

[Camille Farrell]

 Camille could hear the sound of screaming and panic and general confusion as she saw colourful shapes dot the landscape, now horizontal, indicating people running in all sorts of different directions. She gripped Kieran's arms as firmly as she could, trying to breathe steady and ending up in short gulps of air as she struggled to stay conscious. It was very important that she stay coherent until the ambulance arrived, or else she could do something stupid like slip into a coma, a thought that forced her to widen her eyes and try to concentrate on anything she could reach to focus. When Kieran collapsed on top of her, barely stopping himself from squeezing her so tightly that he crushed every bone in her ribcage, she cried out, voice freakish and foreign to her.

What happened next, she could not explain. He was close enough to her that she could hear him speaking, or whispering - or was it breathing? She opened her mouth to wheeze his name, but he was crushing down on her enough that the air she had was going to provide her only what she could use to breathe, not to speak. She could see him, though, feel his face moving against her chest and the brush of his arm as his fingers danced in the large pool of blood they lay in. She felt like he was going to suffocate her if she didn't move soon, and as she felt herself begin to lose consciousness, she saw -

Shadows. Creatures. Shadows. She didn't know what they were. They were insubstantial and suddenly not, flickers of whispers and a chattering sound, laughter even, - and then they were just shadows again, sinking back into the darkness of the asphalt and rolling in a breeze across the empty field adjacent to the bar. She closed her eyes tightly - or had they already been closed? - and opened them again. The scene was different then before - shadows substantial and primeval, taking their wrath out on the party who had attacked their bearer had left a wake of bodies which were now littered around on the ground. Some missed limbs, others boasted large chunks of flesh burned and rotting away, as though it had been ripped from their bodies with a hot, jagged shovel.

Her wound began to burn, then. It began to burn so much that she managed to cry out once more, a true sound of despair as she tried to push Kieran off of her. "It burns," she whimpered, but she lacked the strength to move him. Her voice gave way into sobs as the fire fed through her gaping bullet wound, tracing black along her veins, which one would have seen had she not been covered in blood. "It burns, it burns!" she cried again, voice so high-pitched and wracked with tears that she sounded like a frightened child.

[Nathaniel Fenris]

Nathaniel was behind Daniel in a matter of moments, though his own gun had yet to be drawn - and it was for the best, too. The shadows gave him the creeps, and if he'd been better versed in his own history, he might have even tasted the familiar sulfuric tinge of gypsy magic on his tongue, but as it was, he was more concerned that the shadows would target he and Daniel, next. When they didn't, he seemed satisfied, and followed Coop down the stairs to Kieran and Camille. Upon hearing her weak protests of burning, Nathaniel's eyes widened for an instant as he did the math on what was happening. The blonde had already been exposed to so much of Kieran's blood, that it was only natural the infection had begun to spread. He wondered what the O'Riley patriarch would think about all of this? He motioned to Daniel and gave him a hand in pulling the two apart, opting to carry Kieran since he was - well, he was just bigger.

"Shut this place down, NOW," he ordered as he came back through the doors. He kicked random tables and chairs out of his way until he came to one long enough to set Kieran's body on. He'd have to dig the bullets out unless Kieran was comfortable living with one or two floating around in his flesh forever, and it was going to be terribly uncomfortable. Luckily, Nathaniel had come prepared. He threw his keys at Rook, who stood by with a gaping mouth.

"Outside, black Audi S-4. Trunk, first aid kit. Get it and bring it back, and do not stop for anything. And get her out of here," he said, pointing at Claire, who had literally begun screaming at the sight of her brother brought in all banged up. Nathaniel was really going to concentrate, and he wouldn't be able to do it with her screeching relentlessly like she'd started to do. He had to flex that Alpha genetic to get her to shut her mouth, which he didn't like to do, but as a submissive animal by nature, it did the trick, and Claire literally almost ran Rook over to hide behind her.

"Daniel, lay her out right here," he said, gesturing to the next table. "We'll hire a cleaning service later. Looks like her wound is clean through, lucky girl. Too bad she won't see it that way in a few days," he muttered, beginning to do what he could for Kieran by way of propping his head up and getting clean towels from the cabinet by the bar. By then, the place had emptied out quite a bit, and now that Frank was there to stand guard, Nathaniel felt he could work a little more diligently without having to address an ambush - or, another ambush, as it were.

When Rook came back inside and tossed the first aid kit at him, he opened it up and pulled out an ugly pair of surgical pliers, along with some other menacing-looking tools. He'd leave Camille to Daniel for now.

"My friend, this is going to hurt," he assured Kieran. Then, the digging began.

[Kieran O'Riley]

Kieran thought it was just as important to remain conscious as Camille seemed to, but it was up in the air whether he was worried about a coma, or not.  He wasn't really sure exactly what would happen at this point if he passed out, but he definitely didn't want to find out.  His grandmother and great-grandmother had warned him that doing this would be seriously bad, and that being as careful and in control as possible was key.  Here, he had no control, and barely anything in the way of consciousness.  When Camille started screaming about something burning, her voice didn't cut through the white noise that had surrounded his senses until around the third or fourth try, and then he made the slightest attempt at pulling himself away.  Anything to get her free of him, especially with the threats taken down for the moment.  He didn't know that the shadows seemed to seep back into their proper places as the other threats fell, but the sole reason for that was because he could still hear them chattering around and caught a slip of darkness here and there.  He was far too bad-off to really determine how horrible this was going to be in the future.

He tried pushing himself off of her, but he didn't really get anywhere until Nathaniel and Daniel arrived beside them and pulled them apart.  He didn't blame them, as much as it hurt to be moved like that, and seeing Daniel scoop Camille up as carefully as he could was definitely encouraging.  It meant that things just might be turning in their direction once more, and even though Nathaniel's scent was dominant and aggressive, the big wolf was lifting him off of the pavement and dragging him back into the bar.  He could hear people freaking out still, but Claire's voice rose above the rest in his ears, drawing his attention towards her with a little tilt of his head.  He couldn't even function well enough to talk to her any longer, but when Rook returned with the first aid kit, he nodded to Nathaniel's warning that it would hurt.

Yeah, accepting and understanding were definitely different things.  He bit down on his own cry, hoping that if he kept the sound down that his sister wouldn't freak out more than she already was (wherever Rook had pulled her aside), and found himself digging his hands into the table that he'd been laid upon with a renewed strength that came from having the wolf digging around in his body for bullets.  He didn't even consider telling the man to stop, though.  He wasn't stupid, and he knew that getting the bullets out was key.  Someone was going to need to contact his father, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him anytime soon.