The Wolf and Missus Glass

January 02 2015: Fenris and Veruca have a chance meeting that turns into a fight.

New York Projects

The Public Housing Projects are the very picture of downtrodden poverty.



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The Public Housing Projects are… well the very image of poverty. Fenris has come here to deal with, as often he does, magic. It's really the only time that he's overtly outed as something more than human. Well, other than when he's a giant wolf. Or a werewolf. The magic in question was the remnants of an old curse, native folk magic that had lain dormant for a long time and had recently resufaced with all the magical activity in the area. Getting rid of it was easy, but it had involved a lot of blinky lights and… well the stuff people normally think of as magic. The ILM special effects.


Gang violence, drug dealers, this was the type of people that Veruca could get behind. And stab right in their backs.

She was no anti-hero, don't get it mixed up with her saving the masses. But this was just a hunting ground full of people that no one would miss. However, this area in Brooklyn could serve for a good spot for the LOA to set up shop, under the guise of hooded thugs with machine guns, dealing out heroi.. no. Just under the guise of that and that alone. If the place were cleaned up and made nice, it could be a tactical advantage that would make anyone proud.

So there, in the bathroom of one of the lesser known gangsters, known for torturing children with verbal assaults and slaps atop of the head. Don't get it wrong, she was a villain sure, but children were off limits. Her hands were slowly being washed away of the blood as she glances back towards the man in the tub, still twitching and choking on his own blood, tongue laid out upon the floor as she lets out a little sigh. "Let go, already." She says to the man, highly annoyed. "You deserve this. You do /not/ hurt children." Those words were spoken as the lights were shut out, Veruca immediately moving towards the window to air out the smell of weed that was hotboxed in the apartment. The lights? That catches her attention. She had never seen that before.


Fenris would probably agree that children are not to be messed with. And his morality while probably a bit more regular than Veruca's isn't exactly human standard. Regardless the Old Wolf hasn't particularly noticed what Veruca is doing. He's been too busy chasing native spirits back where they belong and he's just about finished stuffing the last one back into the underworld it never quite got to. Folks don't tend to notice that kind of thing and when they do they rationalize it away. They can't have seen someone doing magic, so he's not overly worried.


She's seen things, she's seen a man predict the future and react wrongly to it. She's seen another man turn green and summon tigers with just imagination alone. And now this. America, in all of it's glroy.

Her fingers tug the mask away from her lips as she reaches into her top, retrieving a swisher that she had stolen from the thug to light and blow out, just to have the scent upon her tongue. There were a few things to consider.. should so go on the approach or just continue to watch. She hadn't made it this long without getting caught by being overly dumb.

With a glance to her left, she gives a toss of her head towards the street. And a woman, who looked just like her headed out in her wake.


Fenris is just turning to head back out to the main road and out of the projects. He doesn't like opening portals here, simply because it's too easy to roil things magically here. All the emotion and pent up resonance makes the area something of a hotbed just at the moment. He does stop though as he scents… hrm… blood. A lot of blood. That's odd. He's not ordinarily given to caring what people do to one another, but he does tend to notice things that are amiss in his hunting grounds.







The final steps of her movement brought her to the sidewalk, not too close, nor too far away from which Fenris had stood. The mask, it covered her face as her gloved hands remain upon her hips. Did this one smell of blood? Possibly, for she was there the entire time, helping and assisting. Veruca was smart, somewhat. She couldn't take down a thug that size without some outside help, just in case he decided to 'swarm'.

"Those lights and that thing." She forces her accent, /just/ in case. Russian, true and blue.


Fenris turns and cants his head at the woman's approach. This is new and slightly different. He sniffs the air… no one he's met. Which is not surprising. There are lots of people he hasn't met. Now, how to answer.

"Bit of magic." That either makes people really curious or puts them right off. Either way the Old Wolf turns and begins to walk toward Veruca. Well actually he means to walk past ehr but he's going oward her right now.


From the window, Veruca's brow lowers curiously. She was watching from two points, for if one sees, they all see. Her eyes close slowly, thumb nail drawing a faint line from hairline to the tip of her nose, lip bitten as she draws in a breath and turns away.

Outside, Veruca's brow lowers all the same, even when it seems he turns to walk in her direction.

"I don't like magic." She imagined herself saying, and then plunging a knife right into his belly.

But she didn't do such, she only took a step side. "Magic, eh? Seems to run in spades in these parts."


"It can." Fenris shrugs, stopping to watch at the woman's odd behavior. Somethings off here but he can't quite tell what. "Hopefully a bit less now. Odd things have been happening around. That always stirs the pot a bit."


In the house, the swisher was soon put out upon the carpet as she gives a slight nod to the other two. Just in case, more than one may be needed to combat or distract from the real her; a tactic she hasn't used in months.

Better safe than sorry.


As Fenris watches her, she grew slightly stiff. There was an aire about him, one that she could appreciate and drew herself to almost immediately. But she was loyal to a fault. She would not sway. "Odd things happen around everywhere. You're possibly in the wrong places at the wrong time to catch." Her one eye twitches as the other two women meld into the shadows. They were there, watching. Waiting. On guard.


"Depends on what I'm looking for." The god-wolf replies with an amused twitch to his lips. His predatory senses are going off. He doesn't see or smell anything off just yet, but that little voice in the back of his head, the thing humans call instinct, tells him something his horribly wrong. And he's learned to listen to that voice.


"And what are you looking for?" Veruca asks, her voice slightly muffled by the mask upon her lips. "A disturbance in the force?" And then she laughs, just a tiny bit. Her foot was slowly drawing back.

While the copies watched and spoke to Fenris, the real Veruca was busy. Pushing the stove away from the wall so that she could kick free the metal hose that connected the gas line to the appliance. Aerosols gathered in a metal bowl which was soon placed into a microwave. The man in the bathtub took is last breath only moments ago, his pockets were searched and a pair of keys were withdrawn.

Items, soon spread along the floor, the place trashed to make it look like a robbery.


Fenris eyes settle on Veruca. He can smell the gas leak now. It just started. His eyes travel up to the apartment not far away. "Why? Should I." He brushes his coat back revealing a two foot oaken rod strapped to his side as he looks at the woman. "You're kind of chatty, by the way… don't think I got your name." His fingers brush the handle of the rod, eyes narrowing.


In the apartment, Veruca closes the door and walks on.. the countdown started at 3..

Outside, her hands go up, a smile beneath her mask is given yet only made known to her icy blue eyes. "Is there such a crime in America to ask a fellow what sort of magic he is looking for?" She takes a step back, the other two remaining in the shadows, yet there was a slight sound that comes from their spot.

"People call me Anastasia. Anastasia Sigurdsdottir."


Fenris smiles. "I wouldn't know. Mortal laws change so fast I don't usually follow them that closely." A few decades is, after all, a very brief time to an immortal. The god wolf slowly slides his rod out of the strap at his isde. "Why do you ask? Or perhaps I should say… what is it you're trying to find out?"


She catches that word. Mortal laws. Was it what she felt? The he was even more unnatural than she, that possibly.. he was from some place else? In this city, in this country, t'was highly, highly damn likely. The rod was drawn forth and soon, another step was taken back, gaining the little bit of distance as her eyes shift left and right.

His question though, causes her hands to draw down, pulling the thin stilleto swords from her own sheath in a quick motion.

What was she trying to find out? "If you are my equal."

And those words? Signal the hellish explosion from the project stand-alone, an amoire blowing itself from the window and out into the street as Veruca-Copy uses that loud distraction to attack.


Fenris wasn't exactly not expecting the explosion, but there's a split second of hesitation that gives Veruca an opening to slice him from belly to neck. Blood wells up from the wound over his split shirt and the injury forces him to shed his human disguise in favor of something a bit more resiliant in order to survive. He begins to grow, swell, two and a half feet taller, a hundred - two hundred pounds heavier. Fur. Claws. Fangs. He plucks his necklace off and it becomes a sword in an instant as the rod snaps out to throw a gust of hurricane force winds at the copy that attacked him. "That… was unwise." He rumbles as he turns, eyes red as spilt blood.


In the distance, where the other two copies remained, was a sorrowful creaking. The pulling back of twine and metal, arrows aimed towards the back of the man who suddenly grows into a beast. They keep aim, and wait..

All the while the one that stands in front of him, blades pressed against her forearm, handles white knuckled as she crouches. Her eyes widen for a moment, then lower..

They were almost like Fables in the making. "So there you /really/ are.." She hisses, her own eyes bleeding black, just to up her own resilience just a /touch/.


"Really? Mmmm no. You don't want to see the real me." That blade in Fenris' hand is a war sword. Developed in the 13th century to shuck men out of armor and leave them still on the field in a pool of their own blood. It takes two hands to wield. He seems quite comfortable doing it with one. "And I doubt you will. Shall we try that again?"


Veruca, appreciated almost everything. She forced herself to remain humble where most people would have not. The blade is whipped to the side to dash the blood that lingered upon it's metals to the side, her feet slowly pacing backwards.. for..


Two metal arrows shine from the darkness, cutting through the air like missiles aimed for their target. She was no Katniss, but gods be damned that she wouldn't try.

The real Veruca was out of the apartment, the only thing scathed was the back of her hand, but the keys she held were twirled within her fingers as she captures the clicker to chirp the alarm to see which car was his.


Fenris, it is important to note, is indeed quite superhuman. Even in this restrained form he's on the level of an above average Asgardian. What makes him dangerous though, is the fact that he's been honing his fighting arts on Midgard for two thousand plus years. Moving rather improbably, he spins to slap one arrow out of the air and flips the other to send it back from whence it came with a blast of wind. Three of them now? Been a while since he fought someone who could do this. Copies? Or illusions? Or something a bit like both.


"You know I think I lost my keys." The wolf grins, kicking off a wall to leap sound-ward.


'He's coming!'


'She sees him!'

Odd thing about her copies, she designed them from a young age to be almost sentient. Years upon years being spent alone, she finally.. once her powers grew, had someone to talk to. And they never left. So once the real Veruca sees the lights of the car shining, she glances towards all of the exits and .. moves the other way. No. She wouldn't be driving a cadillac today.

The other women, those three copies give chase, fingers extending as they borrow from the original to plant into the walls of the buildings, madly crawling up and leaping in attempts to capture the God Wolf.

'Protect her!'

'At all costs!'

'Kill him!'


It's a decision that probably saved her life that day, the decision to go the other way. A wise one. A less experienced or more arrogant killer would have relied on their skill and luck to see them through. Wise predators leave no such things to chance.

Fenris turns as he lands near the cadillac, blade in hand, ducks a blow and sends his sword in a glittering overhead arc through the air, shining like a captured beam of moonlight as it drives down on the nearest of his pursuers.


Veruca was smart! And lucky that she pulled out a few clones instead of doing the job herself. But she ran, to live to fight another day as it were, and ducked and slid beneath a car that was large enough for her to hide beneath.

The other three? They pressed on, one landing atop of the car to swipe, the other going for the legs while the last sneaks from behind.

The first swipe that came at an overhead arch cuts through the Veruca upon the car, slicing her in two which causes her to combust and rain down glass upon it's top.


Fenris snarls as blades bite into his legs and another into the small of his back. They come out wet with blood but the Old Wolf just seems… angrier.

Veruca, of all people, might have a chance at taking Fenris down. It'd be a matter of simply outnumbering him and hoping that he didn't decide to end the world instead of ending the fight, but she's one of very few people who might - if she were clever - outlast him. Unfortunately, it's going to take more than three clones to do that, as evidinced by the result of the car he just split with his sword lifting itself up on a cushion of precisely controlled air and smacking into the Veruca behind him.


And they didn't stop. They swung, hacking away at the meat of his legs in attempts to fell the large wolf, each swing coupled with loud, hellish cries that only beasts as them could make.

The smack was hard enough to send one of the copies flying, and in attempts to save herself from shattering, she curls and attempts to twist herself into the air.. yet smashing right into the car behind them, leaving a dent into the doors. She falls to the ground, her body cracked, yet she was still able to move just a little.

The one in front leaps, blades high into the air, attempting to impale them into the God Wolf's neck.

The other Veruca remained still, her eyes closed, taking in the fight through each of her clones. She was not directing the play, they moved on their own while she hid.


Fenris slips aside, but not before the blades open his throat up. He bleeds, grunts in pain, but the flash in his eyes is more angry than anything else. This one's fast. Fine. As the wounds on this throat begin to staunch he lifts his muzzle to the sky and lets out a thunderous howl, pouring magic into it. He knows the clones are more fragile than actual people. Let's see how they hold up to this.


The clone behind him upon the ground is the first to get the wrath of the howl, the deafening roar breaks down her already broken body where she collapses in a heap of glass. But the one in front of him, she attempts to resist, yet her hands drop the blades and cup her ears as she falls to her knees, her own screams drowned out by the might of the roar. She too, begins to slowly crack, her body trembling as she curls just enough to put her head to the ground.

The real Veruca suffers the same fate, while she's resistant to most magic, this one was different. It was old, packed with anger, and yet instead of staying beneath the car where she knows she'd eventually be found, she takes a few breaths and rolls from underneath. She keeps low, but moves fast, all she needs is a mirror or a stupid little puddle to get away scott free.


"I can hear you out there." Fenris calls out, turning finish off the last of Veruca's duplicates. He can't, however, quite place exactly where it is and elects not to chase her. Perhaps she'll talk. "You know I can smell you now too. I know you're the one who killed the archer's friend. That was unwise. She's a friend of mine."


Veruca stops, pressing herself against the car as she turns to look against the shined red. Her eyes flutter for a moment, feeling the beginnings of a portal, but she does not slip through just yet. "That woman." She calls out now, gaze lifted towards sky. "Her friend is alive and well. Have you not heard? Aren't friends supposed to seek and tell?"


"Alive? Maybe." Fenris knows enough strange things to not discount the possiblity. "Well? I rather doubt that. I know a man whose soul has fled when I see one. No one emerges from that unchanged." Beat. "Also, I owe you a grudge now." The grin in the words can be heard. This might almost be fun.


Veruca was loyal to a fault. She was not going to say more, only what she knew to be true and she had seen with her own eyes, and felt. He was alive and well, walking and talking. A nightmare born from a little bird. She grins at that, her head leaning back against the car as she finally draws herself to a stand. Could she run away? Yes. Would she now? No.

They were engaged in a conversation, real to real. Flesh by the flesh, pound by pound.

"You owe me a grudge?" She asks, brows raised as she gauges the distance. "I owe you /all/ a grudge."


Fenris chuckles. "You have no idea who or what I am, so I'll forgive your ignorance on the matter. I'm no simple creature of the night. No masked crusader for justice. I'm a monster. I'm normally a very polite one. But you broke the rules. And there's a price for that."


Veruca stands there now, her brows lowering as she draws in a breath, her head shaking. Her eyes even seemingly roll into the back of her head.

"How. Fucking. Prolific." She states, sarcasm dripped.

"You are no monster." She doesn't take a step forward, even though she would have loved to. "You are nothing but something that needs to crawl before my feet as you take your last breath. You are just like the rest of those masked crusaders you speak of. You uphold honor, you pretend to care. But everything about you is just /wrong/." She takes a step back now, hands aloft. It was almost as if she were saying.. come get me. "Rules were meant to be broken, Kibbles N'Bits. That's why they were put there in the first place."


Fenris grins and just… lets go. His form alters again and he loses all semblance of human shape. Now he's a wolf. One as big as a car. Now as big as a semi truck… and… still getting bigger. And that vague sense of something predatory? It's not vague anymore. That bit of her brain that was trying to tell her there was a predator about now knows exactly what's about. A cthonic predator from legend and myth. The Wolf.

"You want me to crawl at your feet? Come get me, little mortal."


It was an impressive display really, watching him transform into a dire wolf that was possibly too much for her to handle. She was waning, she had already expended herself and fighting the beast as he is would push her to her limits. In a way, she thought to put him down quick, to live to fight another day with a nice snap to the head that would put his lights out and give her ample enough time to be free. But no.

Cars were around, so many reflective surfaces that she could disappear into and the one that's close at hand? It was ready for her to dive.

"I won't." She states, faithful in her words. "Instead? I'm going to watch you suffer as I cause the world around you to /burn/. And then, only then, will you crawl at my feet and beg for death. Because nothing. Nothing will be left for you to covet or cherish."


Fenris just starts to laugh. "Suffer? You don't read much do you, child." The wolf begins to stalk forward. "I am the Fenris. The Sun Eater. The Odinsbane. The World Ender. There are not many things in the world I truely care for, and the closer I get to this? The more I become like the legends. Push me hard enough, and I'll burn the world myself if it means I can drag you screaming down to my Sister where I will most assuredly watch you suffer. For the rest of eternity."


Her head tilts to the side as he stalks forward, her knees bending just a little in preparation to leap above his head should he get too close; or.. into that portal she created.

"Blah. Blah. Blaaaaaaahhh…" She drawls out, even lifting her hand to mock the moving lips. "All legends were made to fall. Remember that. Sun Eater.." She hisses out, one step taken back as she prepares herself, still at the crouch as well.

"Then lets set fire to the world, FEN-ris. See if you can stomach the carnage!"


"You speak of carnage… and take Prey's stance. Don't talk to me like a predator. You're nothing but a toy dog pretending to be a wolf. Run, little dog. Run and pray death catches you before I do." The wolf isn't stopping. He'll be on her in a minute.


It was enough to goad her into a fight, her teeth gritted, knees bent and blades soon drawn from the sheath upon her thighs. She doesn't stop there, for her skin begins to pale and eyes bleed black, shards of glass soon drawing from old cuts within her skin, even drawing a line around her neck so that the shard there could be born in the midst of blood. Her teeth slowly transform to glass, shown by the hiss of a snake that soon bleeds from the flute of her cut throat.

She radiated death, there were no smoke and mirrors there. She was going to go for the kill and with a leap of legs that held most of her strength, her blades fan out like wings waiting to cut and tear asunder.


The sky begins to darken as the wolf's coal black coat seems to just… soak in light. Fenris crouches low and eyes Veruca as she changes. Then grins and breaks into a run, the ground shaking as he eats up the ground between them, eyes blazing red. He hasn't had a proper fight in forever.


That swift arch in the air was followed by a twist of her hips, a turn that sent her spinning and her powerful legs to lash out to try to put booted, thick heel to his nose.

Thwap him with a newspaper. All sweet like.

That twirl, hit or not, would have followed through with blades, the need to add insult to injury great in this, to knock the furried beast down two sizes which would be something less than he would be now.


She hits harder in this form. Much harder. It hurts, the cut of blades along his snout and the impact of boots against him.

Excellent. He jukes mostly to throw her momentem off and lashes out with claws, blindingly fast for his bulk. It's almost as if he's not properly physical. Which he's not. His body is an expression of will, and not a construct of flesh and bone. "Keep it up, Pup. Maybe you might hurt me at some point."

It hurts now, of course, so that's a bit of lie. But so far she's not punching at Asgardian levels.


With her momentum through, it was hard for her to pinpoint a good landing, luckily for her.. or possibly for Fenris, the swipe with the paw catches her back and sends her at a forward facing flail to the opposite side. She curls into it, the direction towards a car which she vanishes into, and rolls out upon the other side, her boots skidding as she stops with a kneel, blades digging into the concrete which creates grooves to aid her stop.

"Are you fucking monologing." That makes her murderous. Her voice nearly echoed with a throat full of glass. She runs now, leaping over a car in a single bound, blades twirled as she dives and slides upon knees with the aim to sever tendons by the paw.


Since it annoys her, Fenris does it more. Partly because, you know, it annoys her, and partly because having her mad may lead her to make mistakes.

Her blades bite in, her aim true and the Wolf does seem to be bleeding. He doesn't seem to be slowing down though and moments later his paw comes down aiming right for atop her with a follow up swipe right into the nearest building.


She was right to the point of her sliding ceasing, turning upon her knees to look up, ready to slam the blades in upon the belly of the beast until his paw comes down. She blocks this by crossing her blades, flattening them, her head twisted downward as she lets out a loud hiss, the swat catching her to the side to send her soaring, her body a piorette as it slams into the building. A dent is created, planting her in between brick as she slowly rolls and falls out onto the ground, a loud cough and a spatter of blood to wet the concrete.

She'll have to clean that up later.


Fenris grins, failing to follow her. He simply waits in the middle of the street and eyes Verua with a smile. "You can't be done already, mmm, Pup? You're the one who wants to make me crawl and die. So far you've… not yet manged to tickle me."


Smaug. That's who he reminded her of just then. Smaug the fucking smug dragon. Sure, she was hurt. She wasn't acting at her full capacities from using copies earlier, but once a sacrifice, always a sacrifice.

It takes her a moment to shake the pain off, a deep, heavy cough emerging from her lungs, blood splattering upon the ground as she pushes herself to a stand with a scrape of her feet. No challenge was too much for her.. there was still the option of running and yet.. the temptation to see this thing bleed more was there.

"That sounded /so/.." She didn't finish her words, for her blades were flipped and thrown with all of her might, aiming for the eyes of the beast.


The great black wolf bats at the air as she hurls, tearing a portal open in front of him. It's there just long enough for her to catch her blades and then closes. "Mmmm. I hope you don't need those." Fenris growls with a grin as he lunges. Now for fangs and claws and snapping jaws and crunching bones.


Veruca was quick, the portal opening up in front of her took her blades and she went right along with it. To her, portals were bread and butter, she slipped easily in between the world and landed upon grass, her feet picking up in speed to focus on that rip and tear in time as she strikes out with her hands to catch the blade, and opens it upon the other side.

She follows through with a leap, hoping to end up above the rushing wolf, and if she did? She'd try to drive those two stiletto like blades home in between the shoulder blades.


The blades bury themselves within the great wolf's shoulders and he rears back, roaring in pain. He lets the motion follow through, rolling over, doubting that Veruca will want to take his weight. Once on his feet again he snarls and lets out another howl, this one less physical. Terror. Fear. There's a predator on the loose the likes of which Man has not seen in thousands of years. The sound echoes unnaturally of the concrete walls of the projects, awash in preternatural horror.


As the blades make their home into his back, she gives a solid twist to drive the point home, to sever sinew and tendons, to immobilize even further. The howl, while deafening, causes her hands to draw to clasp her ears, gaze wincing as she feels the first movement of his fall. With the blades left in his back, she takes off into a run, running along the expanse of his body towards his head, her arms struck out to balance as he rears back. With a leap, she grasps onto tufts of fur to swing herself sideways, crawling about his body like a spider and leaping off to freedom from the heavy weight.

She lands upon her feet with a crouch and a roll, the pain was there from the broken ribs but, she had to keep moving. It let her know that she was still alive.

And having fun.


The wolf begins to shrink. Mind you 'shrink' in this context means going from a semi sized Wolf to a seven and a half foot tall werewolf. The blades are… broken off in his back but he's still moving. Anatomically he should be immobilized from pain and trauma. But his body doesn't have a physiology the way it's normally understood. His blade is back and he motions to Veruca. "Got more for me?"

The stance is… odd. He's had a couple thousand years of swordplay practice after all.


Alright, so this was fun. But there was only so much a girl could take before she dies. While Veruca can handle more than a normal woman, quite possibly even the greatest, even she deserved a goddamned nap or perhaps a time-out.

That slight run was taken, leaving her to stand atop of an SUV, turning to watch as the man shrinks into something a bit more.. wait..

"Oh for fucks sake." Veruca calls out, one hand pointed in his direction. "Why don't you just /die/."

Of course she didn't have more for him. But she was going to give it the ol' college try.


"Well, the fact is, I don't like you enough." Fenris grins and begins to approach at a walk. He's, of course, still rather monstrous. And of course, he's taunting her a little. The god-wolf has some unusual magic behind him and when near death certain events go into motion, but a being that can go rounds with the likes of the Norse Pantheon for days isn't put off by the same things that send most running or to their maker. "We're just getting warmed up. Let me show you a few things I've learned over the centuries about how to use a sword…" His rod snaps up and the SUV that Veruca is standing on pitches forward, hurled by a cushion of air in Fenris' direction just as he breaks into a charge.


"I'm not in this game to be liked." Veruca bit back. Oh god. She's joining in on the monologuing. There were the good ol' days, when people just shut up and threw down, fighting without speaking a word because fist and feet carried the language far enough.

She was beginning to hate this guy.

As his rod snaps up, Veruca crouches, her head turned this way and that as the SUV starts to move forward. It was quick, too quick, she only had reserves enough to use five portals, more than enough to get away. She couldn't possibly waste it upon this.

As he breaks into a charge, the SUV drawing near, her hand reaches towards her neck, grasping the glass that protrudes from her skin, her head tilted at an angle that causes her to look a wee bit broken.. but it's not.

The shard of glass was ripped asunder, blood splattering, another shard upon her side is grasped and torn from flesh, both flung towards Fenris with expertise, not aiming to hit or miss, but to distract.


Distract they do. The blade he's wielding comes up with a pair of ringing impacts as it shatters both glass shards. Then he leaps. But a split second later than he meant. That moonsilver blade darts forward, thrust out to impale and then rip a chunk of her ribcage right off her flank. If it hits. And Fenris is starting to ken to the fact that mortal as she is, Veruca is not to be underestimated.


The push forward of the blade was seen. Adrenaline for the moment possibly allowed her to play this out in slow motion by sheer force of will alone. She had her options. She had to play it smart. She was going to fade fast and soon if she used her gifts far too recklessly.

Time kicked into overdrive as she draws up an arm, twisting only a /little/, the blade passing through in between both ribs but cleaves a hole that definitely makes her bleed.

She screams out in pain, no matter how bad assed she proclaimed herself to be, the shock of the pain would draw a yelp from any ol' fool, that sideways movement she created causes her knees to buckle as she topples right off of the car.

Landing hard upon her shoulder with a *CRUNCH*, she rolls away from the vehicle, trailing a squirt of blood upon the ground which was soon held true by her good hand.


Fenris clears the car, which sets down on it's own now free of the air blast and turns. He points his rod at the street gutters, picking up bottles and cans and holding them in a swirling vortex off to his left as he approaches Veruca again. "You're not bad Pup." He growls. "I know mighty heroes who would have been ended by that blow." Up on the SUV now, looking down.

He narrows his eyes. They're done here, he thinks. The vortex of trash suddenly ejects it's contents at Veruca as if shot from a cannon.


There was a sound of gurgling within that one lung. A tickle as red fluid slowly leaks in. She could feel the pressure, it would collapse soon if she remained upon her back. And she only had one shot to save her own life. So she does it, removing her hand from the wound that he created, the blood slowly pooling beneath her as she allows her chest to rise and fall with deep and heavy breaths.

The gust of wind lets her know that something was coming, something terrible. Something that would stop her from breathing and keep her away from her little bird. That was something that would not do.

"You know what.." She pants out.. "I say to that? Huh? Ass..hole?"

Right when the trash suddenly shoots towards her like a cannon, she focuses all of her might in that one little reflection, the pool of blood that grew enough to sink her in.



Her body was sucked into a puddle born of her own blood, a heavy price to stay alive.


Fenris walks up, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes up some of that blood. "Vae Victus." He murmurs. as he folds it up and puts it carefully in his jacket pocket. "I'll be seeing you soon, I expect…"

With that he tears open a Way and steps inside. He needs to heal…

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