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It's dark, and when darkness comes, the bad guys follow. Right? Only lately, 'bad guys' has taken on a rather new meaning for the denizens of New York City. There's not so much gangers and the mafia as there's like, blood-sucking vampires and demons and what the hell is withall that?
Carnelian — sometimes Carlos, sometimes Chance, but right now, Carnelian — is out about trying to figure out what the hell is with all that. Because the world was not this crazy in the city of angels, but he moves to New York and all hell literally breaks lose.
The young man is dressed all in black: black hoodie, black pants. The only color on him is the bright red and orange bandana that's wrapped around his neck, and he reaches up to tug the bandana up over his face. See, its his superhero guise, right? A bandana. He's a little broke, don't judge.
The reason for lifting it is up ahead, in Central Park, there prowls something dark and vaguely human shaped, but the way those teeth glint? And really who needs that many teeth that sharp? Its not so much exactly human. And resting on the ground is what remains of an old gent. An old now bloodless gent.
*
Thea is cutting through the park after an evening with her parents - dinner and polite conversation. Blonde hair is up in a smooth, elegant french twist, showing off the hint of sparkle in her ears, at her throat. She definitely doesn't look like the nursing student who lives in a tiny apartment in Hells Kitchen, right now. Her wool coat is a soft blue, buttoned and belted, belling over the skirt of her dress, showing an inch of the rosy colored silk past its hem. Heels click along the pathway, as one hand curls around the strap of her cross body purse. There's been a song humming in her throat, a faint wine glow to her facial features as she ambles her way home.. until she sees something disturbing. Disturbing in a way she could never explain to anyone else..because no one can see what she's seeing. An old man on the ground with almost completely faded life signs, a man that.. doesn
*
Thea is cutting through the park after an evening with her parents - dinner and polite conversation. Blonde hair is up in a smooth, elegant french twist, showing off the hint of sparkle in her ears, at her throat. She definitely doesn't look like the nursing student who lives in a tiny apartment in Hells Kitchen, right now. Her wool coat is a soft blue, buttoned and belted, belling over the skirt of her dress, showing an inch of the rosy colored silk past its hem. Heels click along the pathway, as one hand curls around the strap of her cross body purse. There's been a song humming in her throat, a faint wine glow to her facial features as she ambles her way home.. until she sees something disturbing. Disturbing in a way she could never explain to anyone else..because no one can see what she's seeing. An old man on the ground with almost completely faded life signs, a man that.. doesn't have life signs, and another young man heading right for him.
*
As it goes for a superhero, Wanda has a slight advantage over some. She can make her own clothes, to a varying degree. Her heavy leather coat is a thing of beauty, claret and fitted to her form, laced up the front over an equally serviceable leather corset. So shoot her; breastplates aren't very common in this day and age, and she needs something to keep the imps from clawing through her skin. She walks, tossing a stone up into the air: a faceted slice of rose quartz, warm as her skin, a lump of pink ice. It practically hums on her palm. Every time it catches the light, she traces its descent and catches it again. So far, nothing falls to the ground.
Even if it did, the bauble isn't worth enough to worry about. A knife rides under her coat, another sheathed at her back, another in her boot, another… That says about all it needs to. There prowls something dark and definitely human, but the way the darkness peels back to her Sight-infused eyes reveals a few too many traces of poison and blight. And to say this particular girl has a grudge against what hides in the dark is like saying the US has an opinion on Russia. All it takes is seeing that unfortunate incident, and her path is angling towards a date that probably doesn't end in a drink.
*
Three on one would be totally good odds for these, our hero and heroines. However, monsters cheat. They almost seem to slip out of the shadows bodily, where once there was one betoothed thing, now there are more. How many? It's hard to say: three. Five.
Enough to ruin anyone's day, if one is bothered by the minions of desolation. Carnelian is not exactly keen with having to face up against five beasties on his own, but he hasn't yet seen — oh look, ladies. "Senoritas, you should run! There are… things!"
Eloquent, that. But to one moment he's a kid dressed all in black, and the next he's a kid encased in light. Reddish-orange light, all hard lines and geometric shapes, the carnelian fields that enfold Carnelian in armor radiate their light into the darkness.
There's also a sword made of that same light held in his hand a moment later, "Quick, get away and I'll keep them off you!" And he'll distract the bad guys. Job 1: Run at them fast. Job 2: Swing sword at one's head to take it off.
He manages the first well, but the second not so well. Those things are fast. And they hiss and bear fangs.
*
Thea hasn't even missed a step, as her feet move faster. There's a lift of a brow at the mention of running. "I can tell they're not human, senor." She sounds amused and irritated at once. She pauses at a somewhat safe distance, trying to find something, anything, that she can use against the attackers. Marcus apparently hadn't been using metaphors when he mentioned vampires.
*
Come to a fang show prepared, and that means with a knife; one with a hardened edge, and the other at her hip curiously made of wood and fairly pointy. It helps to be prepared, after all. Wanda hums to herself for a few moments when one hideous creature becomes three, and maybe three again. Her eyes start to fill with a curious magenta light, growing even redder as the moments go on. While Carnelian glows a happy orange-red of a bonfire, hers comes from the other end of the spectrum. The rose quartz starts to turn to powder as she releases the focus for her arts. Its colour leaches away as the dust swings around her hands in orbit to the murmured incantation, and she draws a circle around herself. When the spell sets, it glitters over her body in a fine patina of dust. Step one, don't make it easy to get bitten.
Step two: "We are friends if they are not your friends," she calls out to the man, and maybe the woman. Her advance might be a little more impressive given the quickened step, and she moves up to Thea. "You can use a knife? Take it." The heavy accent marks her as a definite foreigner. Eastern European, likely. "If not, go. This is not a game, da?"
*
"I'm not really sure what they are, none of this makes sense." Carnelian calls over towards Thea in response, looking back a little worried: but his shields do seem to hold against the scraping of a claw from one of them, so that's something. The young man knows his way around the sword, too, so even though they're fast, he swings again— and takes off a hand. Not as good as a head, but that will do.
"Definately not my friends." he agrees to Wanda, his own voice not really showing any accent except when the spanish words leak out. "Back to hell, el diablo!" Like that. He lifts a hand and holds it out, and before him comes a wall of burning light. Unfortunately, it doesn't precisely burn, but it does slam right into the face of a thing that was jumping at him a moment later.
But they aren't all distracted by his light show: one breaks off and heads to each of the ladies, thinking them easier prey.
Silly, silly vampires, they'll likely learn otherwise.
*
Brown eyes drop to the knife, and there's a flash across Thea's face. It's jarring, primal and fierce, disguising the soft feminine features for a moment. Her hand picks up that knife. "Oh, a knife I can use." Among other things, but right now her hand wraps around the handle in a fist, the sharp edge of the blade facing out aligned with her knuckles. "Thank you."
Her jaw clenches as her shoulders square. She will take several steps away from the woman she assumes to be European, not wanting them to descend on the two of them at once, which would definitely hamper using the knife. Her head tilts, watching the one drawing closer.. her expression almost like a scientist studying a specimen.
*
"Take them through the chest. Take off their head, another good idea." Wanda's suggestions are given in a particularly tight tone that speaks to less fear, and more another emotion stirring her. The air around her ripples, practically incandescent at the edges of sight. Nothing quite reveals itself until the first obligatory swipe of sharpened nails hoping to cut into the only exposed skin, her black shirt and the leather coat. Usually even the supple hide would part. Not with the explosion of carmine light repulsing the attack, her shield briefly twinkling hot as red stars. The vampire's second attempt to strike, its jaws parting in a squeal of desiccated wrath, meets with a rather cold, calculated look of malice from the witch. Then she draws her hands into a precise formation, the bands of energy forming into concentric circles that rotate rapidly as she backs away, defensive retreat intended for a purpose. Another attempt to catch her hits the shield, and with her concentration coldly focused, she snarls, "Destul!"
That she is not a mere girl becomes apparent as matching bands flare around the vampire and snare its legs, and another blob weaves around its chest, freezing it in place. It struggles, to be sure, but she clenches her fingers to keep those great ruddy claws from carving her open. "Yours!"
*
The vampire going for Thea bars his teeth savagely, and reaches clawed hands out even as it does so, going for the attack.
It is with some surprise that Carnelian gets hit in the chest — and the front panel of light *shatters*, sending the young man flying back as he goes. The sword is dropped and vanishes, and he skids. The big one? The big one is *strong*.
But Carnie is not completely out of his own tricks: there's a fling of his hand and six bands of carnelian light like stars fly out and strike the foe, slicing cleanly right through its body. One hits the thing on the neck, slowing it— though not stopping it.
Seeing its broodmate captured by Wanda, and in its own dark way sensing power, one of the little guys turns to run. They aren't all brave monsters, these.
*
The vampire coming for Thea will find itself in an odd moment.. the blood recently taken from their victim.. is crawling back up it's throat and out of its mouth. Despite her pretty princess appearance, Thea is ready. She's on the balls of her feel, the heels of her shoes off the pavement. She'll duck low under reaching hands, to spring upwards, and use that knife to slice deep into its throat. Then she'll duck back away.. and one hand reaches towards the vampire.. and what tissues hold it's head on start unravelling, until it drops to the ground like a rotting pumpkin.
*
Bravery may not be wise with someone who warps light. Wanda discharges that telekinetic spell, twisting force through her fingertips, the calculating and shifting bands of magic intersecting as the runes shine bright at their sharp angles. The force causes her hair to rise around her slightly, and the churning coils wrap around the body of the vampire, holding it fast for Thea. Her pupils bleed fuchsia on a blink, the scent of resin and oriental woods dashed by the whisper of rosewood oil.
One step forward, then must follow another. The street is alight, two perfectly capable compatriots taking umbrage to the undead. For that reason alone she smiles. The other knife plucked from the top of her boot gives a perfect excuse to go hunting into the dark, and the bound vampire awaits its end — or the spell's — as she keeps it fast, at least for the pair to deal with behind her. Then she advances in long, light steps into the darkness after the smaller one. Happy endings won't be found in bloody fangs and smiles tonight. Not for him.
*
Wanda leaves, heading towards Midtown [MT].
*
Wanda has left.
*
Carnelian's down, but he's not out: what was shattered can be called again, it just takes him awhile. But he rises up, rolling his shoulders beneath his incomplete armor, and summoning forth another sword of orange-red light. With a grunt, he stalks towards the big and strong guy, swinging the sword with an expert guise.
And the big guy stalks right towards him. A shield comes up between them, but again with a growl the vampire smashes his hand into it and it shatters— but by now Carnelian's armor is once more complete. If not really all that useful.
Still, there's a dance, and a swing— and though strong he isn't as fast as the little guys. And since the width of the edge of his shields is technically zero, there's very little they can't slice through. Including vampire flesh. Off goes the head.
Looking back at the trapped vampire and blinking in time to see Thea… do whatever it is she just did— Carnie makes a point to ask— he calls, "You okay back there, senorita?"
*
Thea is stalking towards the trapped vampire, dark eyes watching it carefully. There's a flicker of a glance at the young man, a smirk. "Do I seem a damsel in distress?" She'll move, that knife slashing down and across.. a hand over the vampire's body, and Carnelian may see the tendons pulling apart, tissues unravelling until that vampire is headless too. "You all right? You took a pretty big shove there. You're going to have bruises."
*
"Might have cracked a rib, ow." Carnelian does wince a little bit at that, even as he looks around, almost hoping for more: but with the witch chasing off the last of them, this particular nest has been dealt with. "Takes a hell of a punch to shatter one of my shields. They can withstand cars driving into them at full speed easy… fortunately most of the force was used up *breaking* the shield so I'm not pulp right now." His voice *sounds* like a grin, there.
Then she's… taking apart a vampire again? Carnelian blinks. "What… *is* that you're doing?"
*
"Me? Just making sure his head is off." As if it's obvious, and matter of fact. She'll lean down, cleaning off her borrowed knife on the dead vampire's clothes. She'll rise, tucking a lock of pale blonde that came loose from her twist behind her ear. "Come here. I can make sure you'll be able to move tomorrow." She'll offer her hand.
*
There's a moment of hesitation, but then Carnelian shrugs. The glowing light of his shields vanish as he walks over towards the woman, lifting his hand up to tug down the red and orange bandana from over his face, "I'm Carnelian." he says, even as he reaches out to take Thea's hand and give it a shake. "I do psychic shields. That are… carnelian colored, for reasons I have absolutely no idea about." A crooked grin on his slightly crooked jaw.
"This gonna hurt?" He doesn't sound afraid, more curious, really.
*
"Thea. I don't have any sort of secret identity name." There's a smile there, as her hand reaches out to touch him. "Not hurt so much as tingle. I've been told it's even a little pleasant." Her eyes will stay open, holding his, but they lose focus. Those spots that ache will feel warm, even almost hot but not quite burning. Then comes a tingling, most intense over that injured rib, but like the tingling to coming in out of cold weather and into a hot bath.
After several long moments, she'll blink, almost shaking herself. "So long as you don't go doing any gymnastics or more heroic endeavors tonight, your rib will be whole and solid again in the morning." Indeed, if he's like others she's used her powers on, he'll feel great, more alive than usual with some extra energy.
*
There's a bit of a shiver, and Carnelian shakes his head slowly, "That's… weird." GOod weird, his voice says, but that is for sure one of the oddest sensations he's felt in awhile. Reaching up he rubs at his chest a bit tenderly, testing to see if its already any different. "I'll try to keep the heroism to a minimum for at least the next day. Thank you. And uh… you sorta did the *opposite* of that to the creatures, did you? That's some talent."
*
Thea gives a ghost of a smile. "I've been told it can be a bit startling. " There's a glance down to the vampire..thing at their feet. "You're welcome.. and yeah, tore fibers apart, rather than putting them back together. It's the first time I've really ever had a chance to do it. It was… interesting." There's a glance up at Carnelian again. "I tend to be the healing type. Nursing student and all. But it's good to know."
*
"Unhealing the undead. Huh. I'm not entirely sure interesting is how I'd put it. Its kinda gross. But, in a good job you slew the monster way?" Carnelian has to laugh softly, before he gets more serious up, "Healing is a pretty impressive set of abilities, there's always someone that needs to be helped, after all. But… I'd offer to walk you to safety but apparently you're more then capable of taking care of yourself. I should get going, unless you need anything?"
*
Thea pauses, her head tilting. "Healing is kinda gross too, to be honest. Need a strong stomach." Then there's a bright smile. "Finally, a man who gets that I'm not some fragile, defenseless female!" There's a chuckle as she tucks that borrowed knife into her purse. "Have a good night, Carnelian. Try not to get in anymore fights. I'm sure I'll see you around. New York is the biggest city that's a small town." With that, she'll head back down the path towards Hell's Kitchen.