when I was a child running in the night

[mouthbreathing]

Who: Warsman (mouthbreathing) and YOU
When: At night from the 27th to the 30th
Where: Out and around the city
Summary: Warsman is out on one of his nightly patrols. Things happen.
Warnings: Violence.

[It’s turning into a regular routine now: during the day he works and trains in whatever free time he has, and come the evening, if he’s not scheduled for an appearance at the Knot-A Fight Club, Warsman readies his bear claws to head out under cloudy night skies. There may not be much he can do on a larger scale- the Darkness is a hydra of danger, and for every monster he slays it feels as though three more spring up the very next night- but every person he catches just in time makes it worth it. And who else is going to help them in this part of the city- the homeless, the poor, the people with no other choice? He’s gotten so used to the white noise of indifference around here that the rare wail of a police siren or ambulance comes as a decided shock.

It’s the little things, though. He’s doing what he can, even casting his net a little wider some nights and getting to know the rest of the city around him. It's not so quiet beyond his usual sectors and there are usually more people around, but it still pays off on occasion if he catches a straggler or two abandoned to the elements.

Leftover rain spots his poncho from higher ledges as he scales an apartment block, bracing his feet on broken guttering and greasy window catches. Higher ground may make him more obvious, and it may be so dark that he won’t be able to see further than a block or so, but any precaution is a precaution worth taking out here. Warsman heaves himself up onto the rooftop and surveys the area with dimly glowing eyes.]

[ooc: I'm up for just about any scenario! Rescuing someone, being rescued, working together, getting into a fight, etc... just start a scene or drop a suggestion and I'm good. I also don't mind starting things off!]

Comments

27th

[makeflowersgrow]

[It's n surprise that Eponine is out after the Sirens. She's usually out and about before the Darkenss has lifted, either on her way to Hattie's, or running back from XXX. Or, she used to be.

Tonight, Eponine is out by choice. Often at home, she wandered out by herself, roaming the streets, just thinking, and imagining..... it helps her to make sense of what's happening. And just recently, everything seems to have gone wrong.

She's had to pledge loyalty to Hattie. And Jack. And Mr. Gold. She's made an enemy of Ella. And all of her friends. She's not heard from Marius, and she's anxious lest he's upset with her for not saving Enjolras.
And then there was the whole business with Xellos - and they're an AGI affiliated business. The very same company she was caught by when she had broken into the sanctums of XXX to try to save Enjolras. The same people that Jack said would enslave her if they got the chance. Eponine's worried. And has no idea where to run.

She wanders out, paying no heed to the shrieks and squelches from the Darkness creatures. They don't scare her, and perhaps they sense that, because usually, they leave her mostly alone.

Except for tonight. Lost in her thoughts, Eponine doesn't notice the black slime on the pavement, and steps into it.
Schlump

It's a sickening sound, and Eponine freezes before turning to try to run. But the thing, the eight hour death, latches onto her foot with it's tentacle tongue thing, pulling her down and edging her towards its mouth.

Eponine screams as she falls, thoroughly awakened from her thoughts. And as much as she hates to yell it, she screams on reflex,]

HELP!!!

Re: 27th

[mouthbreathing]

[A full moon tonight: an overripe orange-red orb hanging in a sea of poison-dark clouds and blackness. Warsman's not sure whether to take it as a good or bad omen; the Darkness guide suggested it might have some affect on monsters, but he's not seen enough lunar cycles here to register any obvious change.

What he has become accustomed to, however, is the difference between the eerie wails and sighs that quite literally come with the territory of the night and the cries of someone in genuine peril- and it's almost definitely the latter that strikes him while he rests, briefly, on a low rooftop. A scream for help.

He barely even thinks about it. Warsman drops down onto the pavement again and darts along the street towards the source, near enough that it shouldn't take too long and-

-and he nearly stops dead as she comes into view because he knows the girl ensared before him, he's sure of it, even if the blur of action and adrenalin and dark is obscuring his memory.

It doesn't matter now. There's no time for words. With a shallow ko-ho... Warsman pounds towards the tentacle first- if he can cut it away fast enough she should be able to make a break for it. Claws extended and already glinting he makes to slice through the thick, viscous tendril.]

Re: 27th

[makeflowersgrow]

By the time Warsman gets to her, Eponine's foot is in the monster's mouth and it's acid has started to disintegrate the thick sole on her boot. She screams and kicks out, scrabbling to get hold of something - anything - to prevent the monster eating her.

But then there are footsteps - more creatures? Eponine looks up in a panic, in time to see a swipe of claws. At once the monster's grip is loosened, and Eponine yanks her foot free from it's mouth. And then she's off and running.

She stops just round the corner, though, and peers back. Who had saved her? And - oh! Her shoes. Eponine sits down on the curb and begins to unlace her boots. The sole of one was completely gone, though the other's undamaged. With a sigh, she tosses them aside. Hattie will not be impressed when she turns up barefoot. Oh well. But who had saved her?

"Hello?"

[mouthbreathing]

Four steel claws scythe through the tendril and the stump recoils as if making a tactical retreat; the girl scrambles to her feet and bolts into the darkness like a startled deer. It's only after she's darted around a corner, though, that he picks up on the acrid smell of burning leather and realises that she didn't get away entirely scot free. Is that a shoe he sees disappearing into the dark ooze, or-?

No. Priorities. Warsman shakes his head briefly and hurries down the street after her before the creature can collect itself and prepare a counterstrike. He's got to make sure she's okay- if the acid managed to burn her foot as well she might not be able to get to safety. He's turning the corner as she calls out and from that alone it's easy to spot her dark shape down on the curb.

Warsman hesitates at what he hopes is an unthreatening distance, hands lowered so that his claws point to the road. "I'm not going to hurt you." His voice sounds quiet even to him- hopefully she'll read gentleness into it. "Are you hurt?"

28th

[mikhail_in_me]

[Teito is going to be in big trouble once Frau realizes he has snuck out, but he isn't worrying about it. He needs to see what the fuss is about at night and if it means he can help someone defenseless that might get caught up with some monsters..well then it is worth it.

Everything is quiet for the first part of his exploring and he is beginning to think all this talk about monsters and things is nothing but a scare tactic to keep people inside.

That is..until the started to show up and show up in a big way. He used his zaiphon to take out a couple but that is only attracting more. After a few more blasts it is obvious that he is in trouble.

Turning tail and running as fast as he can, Teito tries his best to give himself some space from the creatures that are tracking him. He isn't a coward, but he also isn't stupid enough to stay in a spot where he is outnumbered.

Teito looks over his shoulder to make sure he has some good distance but it is at that moment that he runs right into Warsman. He yelps and flails a little as he tumbles backwards in surprise.]

[mouthbreathing]

[Raining tonight. The unsteady showers seem to stir dank blooms of smell in the night air, garlanding the city in a deeper, muskier atmosphere Warsman is reluctant to breathe in. Grime is watered down to slime, rendering smooth surfaces slippery and edges hard to grip; surefooted though he is, it's safer for him to stay on the streets. He won't be able to see around the crowded corners and he'll be giving any roving aerial creatures the advantage of height, but the last thing he wants is to fall and injure himself before he can anything else.

It's therefore not surprising that he hears the sound of combat, stifled by towering blocks, before he sees any sign of it; it's distant and without any obvious sounds of distress. Worth checking on just in case, but not a major priority. He hasn't patrolled that area, anyway.

As he moves, sure to stay out in the light (counterintuitive though that is), though, the sounds begin to die out. What could that mean? One combatant winning? But which one? He's just turning the corner as he considers the possibilities- and right on cue he finds himself being barreled into by a speedy something.]

Ah-! [The sudden impact doesn't stagger him at all but he jerks back anyway, claws extended and fists raised- but then he actually gets a look at his mystery assailant and stops. A teenage boy, much smaller and slighter than him and obviously just as surprised to see Warsman as Warsman is to see him.

Warily, he lowers his hands.] You're... not a monster? [A ridiculous question in theory, but he's probably thinking it, too.]

[mikhail_in_me]

[The rain has definitely made things slick and in Teito's surprise and flailing upon encountering Warsman, it causes him to slide and land on his butt on the pavement. Upon seeing who it is that he ran into he immediately brings up his hands and zaiphon circles around them. His entire body tenses and he gets ready to fire should the other prove to be a threat.

But then the other speaks and it makes him pause. Still armed and ready, Teito studies the other, trying to get himself to calm enough to think clearly.]

Who are you!? [There is still panic in Teito's voice but his face is set in a more determined look then he is actually feeling. He really should have stayed inside.]

I'm not a monster! Are..you? [It might seem like a silly question to ask back to the person who just asked him the same thing, but Teito is no longer sure about anything in this world.]

[mouthbreathing]

[Warsman doesn't get much of a chance to say much else. The next thing he knows is that the boy is down on the pavement and encircled in a ring of glowing rune-like symbols, the likes of which he's never seen before.

But he doesn't need to know what it is to guess that it isn't friendly. Immediately he takes another step back, lifting his hands with his palms spread out this time in a peaceful gesture.]

It's fine. I'm not a monster. I'm won't hurt you, I promise. [Spoken quietly but urgently- the boy may sound frightened but his expression is decided, ready for action. It's a merit rather than a fault to be so suspicious out here, but that doesn't mean he wants to end up on the wrong end of an attack he's never seen before.] Are you hurt?

29th

[ibreakrules]

For once Frau was off of work early. Or at least earlier. It wasn't like 2am could really be considered early considering he'd gone into work the day before. With how often Frau wandered at night, he'd come to find that 2 to 4 am tended to be the quietest times on the streets. While it was never fully quiet considering what was out there, most people weren't just wandering around.

As he continued to slowly make his way down the streets back toward his home in sector four he remained alert to anything taking an interest in him. It wasn't hard for him to do, and he hardly looked like he was paying much attention. In fact, he looked just as relaxed as he would be walking through the streets during the day.

When he felt the presence of a small group of the darkness creatures moving closer, the only shift in his behavior was a slight glance in that direction, though only his eyes moved. They weren't far away now, but that was alright. Frau could feel the scythe's flicker of excitement, but he easily held it in check. For now he would wait. The fun would begin soon enough.

[mouthbreathing]

Where one had heard, the other had spotted.

An icy wind tore at Warsman's poncho as he swung down from a rooftop with a lamppost, hands clasping the rusted metal pole to bring him to a graceful landing on the pavement. No sooner had his feet touched the grimy street, though, and he was off again: he'd already sighted a gathering of somethings moving in, shapes in the darkness made all the more threatening by their mystery. A pack? He'd seen what looked like vicious strays out here before, a sleek black and fronted with eyes like burning embers, but it was impossible to tell at a distance.

Regardless of what they were they'd seemed to have a target in mind, and that meant only one thing. The most difficult part would be maintaining a fair distance, keeping back so as not to alert them to his presence right away. The element of surprise was crucial when they had the advantage of numbers.

If one thing became apparent soon enough, though, it was their prey. A man walking by himself: lean and tall, though not his own height and apparently unarmed. If they were going to ambush him- no, that was unthinkable. He approached, staying back for now. Charging into the shadows would be suicide: he had to wait for them to show themselves.

[ibreakrules]

Frau's pace slowed slightly as he felt the creatures edging in. For the moment he was in a less residential area of the sector. Between residential and store front, this was the better option for an all out fight. The last thing Frau wanted was an innocent bystander. Of course, that innocent bystander could get cut down by more than just a stray attack or a darkness creature. Fighting would excite the scythe, and feeding would only do it more. He didn't want to slip up and let the scythe go after someone unintended.

His right hand clenched slightly, waiting just a bit more before he summoned the weapon into his hand. Let them get closer. When they did, there would be no escape.

The feeling of another soul nearby, this one living and not darkness creature, didn't concern Frau. The person would be safe since he wouldn't allow these creatures a chance to go after the stray wanderer.

eep, sorry about the delay! ♥

[mouthbreathing]

Curiously enough, Warsman was supposing just the same thing as he watched the creatures draw closer and closer still; a black paw stepped into the dim light and confirmed his suspicions. The man seemed to have finally picked up on their presence, and if he was fast enough, he could make a break for it while they were distracted. He himself was poised to lunge, predator-like where he hunkered down for the attack- and when the creature at the head of the attack let cry a terrifying howl all he thought was now.

The pack sprang forward as if splitting from one shadow into many like amoeba, a few pricks of light and sound becoming twelve burning eyes and six snarling, drooling mouths filled with more fangs than one could possibly imagine fitting between a pair of jaws.

Warsman jerked into action. He tore towards the creatures, bear claws extended in a great swipe at the hind quarters of a pack straggler. The howl strangled to a pitchy yelp of pain, but his attention was elsewhere; he threw out his other hand, trying to catch the man's attention. "Run! Go-!"

30th

[rewritter]

[ one for every day? more importantly, this was the last day of nano and despite having worked on it steadily for the whole month, Fakir was racing to meet the deadline. it seemed like it was just a second ago when he'd sat down on the bench at the park to get to work, but when he'd finally finished filling up his writing pad, he'd realized he was only stopping because it was already so dark he could barely make out his own words. he'd written straight past sirens and didn't even realize it.

shit. he'd been doing so well in not getting caught outdoors, too. he stood up, but the movement was already attracting monsters that had started to materialize from the shadows. SHIT. if he had his sword... but all he had was his pen and paper. he glanced down panickedly at it. maybe that would be good enough, maybe he could probably find a way to write himself out of here before they attacked. or maybe he could make a run for it.

... so it's probably a strange sight to see someone out after dark frantically writing something on a notepad while monsters are stalking towards him, but that's what's happening. ]

♥! sorry for the delay!

[mouthbreathing]

[Needless to say, since Warsman's been doing this for quite a few months now, he's come across all kinds of strange excuses for being out at night. There are the usuals, of course- people too drunk to tell the difference between dark and light anymore, people running back from work, adrenalin junkies biting off a little more than they can chew- and he's starting to work out how to recognise them on sight.

Of course, the Port still manages to throw him a few curve-balls every now and then. And as he clambers up onto a roof overlooking a main street, attracted by the excited chittering of monsters, he spots just one of those curveballs: a teenage boy hunched over a notebook and writing as if his life depended on it.

Which it possibly does, in a way- but Warsman can't say he'd put money on it just yet.

He's off and running even before the initial surprise wears off. Whoever they are and however inscrutable what they're doing seems to be, he's got to make sure they're okay. The jump is a little more brute force than elegance leap, but it brings him down to ground level quickly enough that he can get between the boy and the approaching shadows- which seem to have far too many teeth, far too many eyes, for anything so incorporeal.

Warsman only barely jerks his head back to check the boy's reaction.]

Go on! Move! I'll watch your back! [Which is the best he can promise until he works out how many creatures there are lying in wait out there. He lifts one hand in demonstration, the four iron claws gleaming silver in the half-dark like needles.]

IT'S COOL

[rewritter]

[ he hadn't been able to stop the ravens from attacking, the last time he'd tried this. but this time he had a little more power. some of the darkness creatures seemed to be visibly struggling against something invisible that was trying to hold them back. most of them, however, pressed onward with little difficulty. especially when Fakir abruptly stopped writing as Warsman landed in front of him--for a moment, he wasn't even sure if the man in armor was another monster or not, but the voice snapped him out of his shock. ]

What are you doi...

[ ... on second thought, maybe he should follow the stranger's orders. he took a couple of steps back, before trying to run the opposite direction. then stopping still as more clawed shadows peeled off from the darkness in front of him. ]

[mouthbreathing]

[The boy starts to protest, but any argument dies away quickly, much to Warsman's relief. The precious moments he might spend convincing him are much better spent actually getting away. He listens for the footsteps ahead of actually responding, though: one step, then another, and then he hears the regular stamp of an actual run.

Which means he can focus on warding the creatures lurking in front of him off of their tail. Something with humanoid legs but only a stump of a torso charges out at him, but a moment later it staggers backwards as if hitting a wall. He can't explain it, but whatever's keeping these creatures back won't may not last for much-

The running stops.]

Ah- [Warsman darts an anxious look over his shoulders, anticipating a deathly thud, but the boy's still standing.

As are the shadows, in relief.

He's not sure where to look anymore; all he can do is engage his Fighting Computer to monitor their surroundings and...] There are too many. Get on my back.

later on the 27th?

[theshortestbird]

[Red Robin was on patrol, which wasn't really that unusual. He'd gotten in the habit of putting the Titans into pairs for when they went on patrol, but in their off hours, and his, he didn't bother. Probably not the smartest or safest idea, when he couldn't call on Nightwing to help him, or anyone else.

He could, but that would mean asking for help. And he just didn't want help. He didn't want to rely on anyone for anything, not now. He'd gotten over everyone leaving, or so he thought. But when you were out on the streets, you couldn't think of what had gone wrong. What things were changing. Tim was so tired of change. So very tired. And literally tired, and a little undernourished, and not drinking enough water, and so that was probably why he felt like he was about to pass out on the roof.

And was also why he heard the darkness monster behind him, but his reflexes, usually fast, just seemed sluggish, and he barely had any time to get his bo staff out as he went down, the staff the only thing between him and the monster.]

Re: later on the 27th?

[mouthbreathing]

[He wasn't the only one feeling the strain lately- albeit the strains of a different, if similar, melody. How long had Warsman been doing this for now? Four months? Five? He couldn't remember when he'd started these nightly rounds exactly, but he did know what had driven him to them; a sense of justice; a deep-seated restlessness; loneliness.

It was the latter he was starting to feel now. He'd spent the last three years working in a team: a whole that functioned as the beating heart of defense in their world, standing for love and truth and camaraderie. He'd been on the verge of feeling a part of it. Out here- out here he was one man, standing on rooftops and looking out over a vast city and maybe not seeing a living soul all night.

Tonight wasn't going to be one of those nights. It was the scarlet of the figure's tunic he saw first, picked out in the darkness a little way down from him- then the general shape of the man, tall and sturdily built- and then it was the flash of movement as he swung around to face--

Move.

Warsman made a running leap down onto the next rooftop and behind the figure (masked- he hadn't seen that at a distance- maybe another patrolman?), dropping into a half-crouch to swallow some of the impact before straightening up and releasing his claws with a shing of metal on metal.]

I've got you-- [It's not much in the way of comfort, but it's something. He rushes forward to steal some of the creature's attention, hoping to give them a chance to get a real hit in with that staff of theirs.]

Re: later on the 27th?

[theshortestbird]

[At first, Tim thought it was one of the Titans, someone else out on patrol during off hours, who had seen what happened and came to help. He was struggling with the thing, this monster, whatever it was right now, and when he heard the claws being released, there was a moment where he thought it was another monster. You never knew what was out in the night, as it was always changing.

But there was a voice, so it couldn't be a monster. And he couldn't look to see who, or what it was, because he needed to concentrate on fighting this off. And it did exactly what Warsman was trying to do; it looked up at the new thing that had arrived, and Tim took that chance, rolling to the side and hitting it in the head with his staff. He didn't know if that killed it, or knocked it out (could they be knocked out?), but whatever it was, it was down for the count.]

..Thank you. [He looks over, appraising him. He was much taller then him; that was everyone, though, Tim was always the shortest Robin, not counting Damian), and he'd seen him on the network before. They'd never talked much, though.]

[mouthbreathing]

[The distraction is enough; one hefty swing later from the staff and the other man has the creature slumping to the floor with a burbling grunt, like scummy water bubbling through a crack.

Warsman stays watching it for a moment or two longer just in case, making sure that its twitches are just that and not some sign of a second coming, before finally looking back to his rescuee. The hood obscures much in the way of his face, but he doesn't need to see the man's eyes to know that he's being given the once over.

He lets his fists fall harmlessly to his sides and gives a short nod.] Not at all. You should really be more careful, though. [He can't quite help but scold; that voice sounded younger than he'd expected. Still, given the fact that he's in costume and very obviously armed, he can't be totally helpless.] You patrol the area?

aaand later on the 30th

[aprettybutterfly]

[Rorschach was also on patrol. Sort of. Was it patrol when you went looking for someone to beat up? Because if so, then he was on patrol. But he'd had a good night so far! Two broken jaws, one crushed hand, and three lost teeth later, and he was considering calling it for the night. He missed having a partner. At least Daniel could keep up with him, even if he was old and fat now.

He missed even the old and fat Daniel. Rorschach couldn't help but feel like he was missing something, while being here. They'd never completed the job back home, not when he was here, and feeling like you were so close to where you should be, yet so far, it wasn't the best feeling in the world. Maybe that's why he was feeling down.

No, not really. His foot connected with a monster, and he felt satisfied, hearing the crunch as he continued down the alley. This place did keep things interesting after dark. But that usually went for any filthy city.]

[mouthbreathing]

[Windy, cold and wet; there was no denying the steady seasonal change seiging the Port now, and little by little it was starting to remind Warsman more of home. Not Japan, or Robin's slice of England, or wherever else he'd come to rest over the years, and not Sibera- Leningrad, this time.

The fact that he had very few ties left to the city anymore worked as a small blessing as he moved from street to street. He couldn't get sentimental about it in the way he might have otherwise done- wistful, certainly, but he could ignore it so long as he had something to occupy him.

Which he most certainly did out here. He had to stay alert, focused on his surroundings and the multitude of living organisms that populated it, nearly all of them monsters.

But as he cast a cursory glance down an alleyway, back to a damp wall, the shape he caught sight of wasn't monstrous; what his eyes fell on first was the moon-pale face, marred with black splatters, in the dark.]

Rorschach...?

[He takes a few faltering steps into the alley, unsure of himself. They've never met in person, after all- but the mask is distinct.] Is that you...?

[aprettybutterfly]

[Besides the mask, ever shifting, he'd likely notice the smaller stature. The dirty trench coat, and the ever present smell was particularly of note, though should probably not be questioned.

From all of the things out here in the darkness, Rorschach wasn't prepared for someone to know his name. Someone not who he was currently punching in the face, of course. He turned, mask shifting, though you never knew if his expression was changing.]

Warsman.

30th

[infromthecold]

He's been in port for around two months now but going out after dark wasn't something very high on his list of things to do. Still there weren't enough hours in the day light leaving Bucky to sit around doing a lot of nothing at night. So James was sneaking out of the hatch on the HoA's roof. "Just for a bit." he told himself as he adjusted the straps on the shield he'd stolen moments before ending up in Siren's Port. He wouldn't have dared going out with it back home,the shield was for Captain America's use only. Still the weight on his back made him feel like his fallen friend was still looking out for him.

He'd made it six blocks into sector 9 when something impacted with the shield on his back with a dull clang. He turned around to spot something about the size of a wolf shaking off it's impact. Two more joined the first from a near by alley. They growled at him showing off way too many rows of teeth in the process. As he drew his gun he felt less guilty about not leaving Cap's Shield back in his room, and more concerned about whether he should make it to the nearest fire escape or find out the hard way how many bullets it took to drop a Battlesoul Hound. He knew it was going to be the hard way when one of them lunged strait for his metal left arm.

[mouthbreathing]

The clang, someone softened by distance, was what snagged on Warsman's night-sharpened nerves first; in any other city might simply have been a cat knocking over a trash can, easily ignored, but here his choice of reaction could mean the difference between life or death for someone. And with a life on the line, it was always worth taking the time to investigate.

The closer he drew, though, the more obvious it became that he'd made the right choice. It wasn't long before he could hear growling, low and threatening and wolf-like: one of the doglike creatures he'd spotted out here so many times. If he- and its latest prey- was lucky, it was a lone straggler rather than part of a pack.

It looked as though luck was on their side. A moment later and Warsman all but ran straight into the sight of a man mid-attack: armed, yes, but what use was a gun when you didn't have a finger left to pull the trigger? Hesitating only to size up the situation, Warsman broke into a sprint and to the side of the man, eyes flashing a brilliant scarlet in the dark as he made to swing a punch into the hound's flank- hopefully before those razor-sharp fangs could bury themselves in anything vital.