Description: Tsinghua, the envoy, gets stranded on the shady outskirts of Sunshine city- Local robbers make the boy their prey... But red eyes flash above, in the darkness.
Tsinghua is about to have a rough night.
%Queue him arriving at the airport near sunshine city, late in the evening. He would be meeting with the head of a local business conglomerate. 'Sunbeam Dynamics'. As one tends to do when arriving at an airport, Tsinghua would push his way outside to the rows and rows of Taxi's, ready to hire one and get himself a fast trip to the hotel. All seemed well. The portly man behind the wheel was friendly, chatted him up on the way, to which Tsinghua reacted to. Yet, only minutes after, Tsinghua made a harrowing realization. Frantically patting down his beige robes and handbag, eventually, he turned to the driver, almost teary-eyed.
"I- I seem to have misplaced my wallet.."
The driver's brow furrowed and, just like that, the car screeched to a halt as it entered a side-street. Tsinghua's head bowed down in shame as a now angry man gestured him to leave the car. The boy attempted diplomacy, promising to pay later, but the man was having none of it. "Stop wasting my time!" Seconds after, Tsinghua would be stranded on the outskirts of an entirely unknown city close to midnight, the driver leaving in a fuss. The boy looked... really sad.
Sad, but considering his best option. Without money, getting around would be a problem- Hitchhiking? He does not feel save doing that. Perhaps he could call the businessman to send someone to pick it up, but that might lose him precious goodwill.. As he stood there, he realized that standing completely idle would not do him any favors: And begins to walk in the approximate direction where the city goes inward, his hotel is supposed to be further inward. It's a start! But naively, this is the 'bad' part of town. And stumbling into an alley, rustlings suddenly emerge from in front- and behind him.
"Ey, wassa pretty thin' like you doin' around these parts?" A heavy voice rang, as a muscular man stepped out of the shadows in front of him. "Now was dat suppos' to mean, Kian?!" As Tsinghua glanced behind toward his way out, a large woman blocked the alley's exit, talking past toward the other thug. "Don' start this now, Tina! That ain't flirtin, I'm simply bein' intimidating!" The lady, Tina, seemingly stopped her quarreling, focusing on the boy again.
Tsinghua was terrified, his breath quickening and mouth trembling.
Two more men would show themselves, on either side of the alley- Cementing the situation as one Tsinghua would be foolish to try to flee or fight.
Desperately considering his words as 'Kian' began to lazily walk closer.
The quiet click of nails against the cement of a rooftop go unheard amongst the ambience of the city's night life. Even in a bad part of town there are plenty of things to be heard, seen, and...smelled. It would be wholly unfair to say that the unsafe neighborhood is dingy and dirty and generally poor in appearance. Those observations can be made of most any part of town. The real difference comes in atmosphere, the combination of motive and willingness and opportunity, that taints the very air, seemingly, with negative vibes.
Those sensitive to such things may become discomforted, paranoid, or even physically ill. Others, though, use that difference of chi as an extra sense. Like a shark to blood, certain disturbances can draw the attention of sensitive predators from far away. With so much focus on the youth from the pushy crowd, chances are nobody notices the two glowing red dots peeking out from over the edge of the roof or hear the careful sniffing of air.
Four bodies. Heated. Confident. At ease. Well practiced.
One body. Smaller. Surrounded. Fearful.
Like a ninja in the night, a dark blur moves along the building's edge before leaping across a gap to find a better vantage point. This isn't a matter of curiosity. This is a matter of the Hunt. Only the most keen of awareness might have the notion of being stalked were they not occupied, but this is a matter of watching, waiting, planning an attack for the moment when there is the greatest distraction. Glowing red orbs stare on from the new position almost directly above one of the side-goons. Rivulets of drool drip in anticipation and mix with the dripping moisture from air conditioning down the edge of the building.
As Kian gets close enough to lay a hand on the boy's shoulder, Tsinghua finally finds the confidence to speak up, wincing back somewhat at the touch. "G-Good night, gentlemen, lady. What would-"
"Ey, I knew it! It's a boy!" His attempt at diplomacy gets interrupted by one of the two secondary grunts yelling out with enthusiasm, at which point the other grunts out a frustrated response. "Bloody- Fine, you win the bet!"
"Shut up, the both of you! Boy, girl, it ain't matter! Kid looks like he's loaded, Think the robe's made out of Silk!" Tina shouts out, quelling the two subservient goons. The presence of a third party goes unnoticed by all- Were he not preoccupied, Tsinghua would likely have sensed, or noticed something out of the ordinary. Observation was his strong suit, after all.
But Street-Smarts certainly was not.
"I- I can pay! Just let me make a call, and-" But interrupted again. "Nah- These new-fangled technologies have all sortsa tricks to make silent police calls, and such. We ain't taking that risk!" Kian again. "You two, pat him down- Search his bag! Kid's gotta have some cash somewhere.." Tsinghua stumbles back, but right into the thug that began looking for contents within the many pockets of his robes. The second, rummaging through his bag. The boy in the meantime, would stay still- Trembling, and swallowing once silent tears began to wet his cheeks. His mind and eyes are still racing, Looking for escape and opportunity, but, what could he do in such a situation? He judges he could take down one in a swift combination, but the others would come in to restrain him regardless.
"Oi, Oi- Now don't give me that cute look, you're gonna make me feel guilty!" Kian taunts, picking at his nose while Tina stares daggers toward what's likely her boyfriend.
The beads of moisture aren't the only thing falling from the sky, however. Something large, dark, and heavy silently drops from the heavens with full intention to land nearly squarely atop the thug rifling through the youth's pockets. The motion is only made more eerie by the streaks of red afterimage light that follow each glowing dot in the pair. So aiming to connect and so very close to the youth being victimized that, if successful in the pounce, the boy may very well feel the thud of the mugger's body slamming against the hard ground much less the yank on fabric as hands get forcefully removed from pockets due to the crash.
Little time would be spent after the impact in loitering. The claws that remain in contact with the man seek to grasp and lift so that the creature's full form can be revealed in the sidepath's illumination. Hands and thick arms overhead, the muscular beast just taller than the average man reveals tattered clothing and a furred body, scars, and a bestial face with damningly glowing red eyes. The monster roars with full lung capacity, muzzle open, spittle flying from the force of the rumbling air. It's not just a Darkstalker.
...it's a werewolf.
"Gah!" The unfortunate thugs yells out, as the werewolf's large form drops straight onto him, the graspy hands being ripped away from his clothing- Thankfully, the cloth does not tear due to the force, yet Tsinghua fearfully stumbles backward as the scene unfolds. Thug getting lifted up as terrified screams ring out from the other three criminals. "S-Screw this!" Kian runs, Tina starting wide-eyed as her partner goes down the other side of the alley. Not wanting to pass the beast, the woman instead runs the other way, and around the corner- "KIAAAAN!!"
And the third, unnamed thug, watches feebly as his friend rises. He was standing behind Tsinghuam and yells out "J-Jeremy! Tsch!" For a moment, it looked like he was about to attack- but glances back in the direction were 'Tina' ran.
"Munch on this, you beast-!" And the thug decides to push the messenger in the back, leaving the boy to stumble forward and fall straight toward that furry form: He should have been able to steady himself, but the current situation shook him to his core twofold. About to be robbed and who-knows what else by common thugs, before a bloody monster drops in front of him! He was just staring wide-and-teary eyed, in shock an fright. As such, he just trips into the creature with little resistance.
"Run Jeremy, run!" The unnamed goon yells, before making his own escape.
The last to flee the scene may find sudden difficulty. Jeremy may not be as dense as the beast that entered the volatile scene, but he surely makes for a solid projectile nonetheless. Jeremy doesn't run, not lifted as he is. Instead, he flies. Faster, in fact, than his fleeing comrade can run. The two may even meet, though likely not in any capacity for which either will appreciate. It's brief, fast, and with quite the burst of fury.
That leaves one target remaining. Indeed, it may even seem that Tsinghua is about to meet those claws himself. The beast draws back an arm, fingers curled, claws catching a glimmer in random illumination, but just as they begin to swipe downward the entire creature reels backward as if from some invisible force. Clawed hands grab at each side of the beast's head and frustrated twitching-- if frustration as a word can truly even begin to explain the emotion shown in this struggling recoil -- causes the werewolf to thrash in place. The jerky motions are unnatural.
Stop! Stop, damn you!
Unspoken words, nothing that can be heard by the terrified boy, yell mentally in defiance against the want for continued aggression. They add:
Use your nose instead of your hands!
The beast roars one more time, though not nearly in the same means for intimidation, before visibly calming. The wolfmonster's nose twitches. "Familiar," rumbles a single word with bass and gravel and the darkness of a thousand Under-Bed Spaces. Eyes, if those can be called eyes, stare at Tsinghua as if expecting an explanation.
Before he could truly fall against the wolf, his arms would be outstreched instinctively, briefly touching the werewolf's fur before he pushed himself away in a panicc, having come to his senses- to some degree. He heard Jeremy give his final scream while he was tossed, and faced with the beasts sheer strength, his face pulls a stark white. "I- I'm sorry!"
That was for accidentally touching him, it was blurted out, almost- And with the wolf's thrashing, that unease and fear grows. "Familiar? N-No, I'm not!" Two, stumbling steps back. He wanted to run, so bad- But the creature felt fast, faster then him.
But fear would win over the rationality, and against the will of his own mind, he turned around to start a mad sprint, now dirtied robes lit-up by the lights. But these robes are not made to run in, and he manages to stand and trip on the long dress, falling forwards- Not even out of the alley yet, and only a dozen or so feet away from the beast.
Truly, this was a bad day.
Just moments ago this would have spurred the insinct to chase, to catch. Instead, the conflicted creature takes slow steps after. "Familiar. You are-" The last word of the sentence is choked by a gutteral rumble that rolls the R with deadly ease. This elicits another sniff of the air, another step, another snuffle of the humid alleyway atmosphere, and then... What happens next is a pure transformation of demeanor. Pointed ears rise to attention, heavy panting pauses to leave the beast's muzzle agape, and something almost seems to briefly dim those haunting glowing eyes.
"You smell of my friend." That could be anybody, but the following words settle with undeniable cementation of something uncanny: "The smell of Velvet follows you like a ribbon of smoke, faint, but there." The wolf stares. The fate of the goons and what they do next are left unfollowed, although their scent is well and truly memorized. The night will likely become far worse for them if the boy parts ways with the predator completely.
Landing forward on his hands, he turns around his body so that he sits on the streets, looking back at the beast as he begins to speak more words. A shift happens in Tsinghua's psyche, as he is forced to make the decision to flee or stay for a second time.
He mentions Velvet, and the choice is clear.
"D-Do you speak of Velvet Blue?" He responds, careful and slow words forming his sentence as he remains seated- The form of the wolf positively looming over, there is an immense difference in size. "He is my friend too, yes- And a friend of a friend... is a friend?" he postulates, tilting his head as he attempts to have the situation remain passive. The fear is most certainly still their, but it had dimmed slightly- But only slightly. More contained, rather. Set aside as he talks, judging it the best course for his self-preservation.
"C-Could you indulge me with your name?"
Step by step, the werewolf draws closer. While those fierce red eyes remain affixed upon the form of the boy before him, those pointed ears twitch and turn. There are many senses to use to observe such busy surroundings. Of those, there are many constant things to hear and the acoustics of alleyways can be strange. The thugs may have ran, but that doesn't mean some won't gather their courage and return. The beast's steps are surprisingly soft for how much weight they support.
"Don't you know it is rude to ask another of their name without offering your own?" comes a rumbled question. Title, Name, Position. Introductions have structure. "I am..." Freiherr Konrad from the Sabrewulf Clan. No. Only barely. What's left is an intrusion, a possession, a recreation of the monster that formed the name of the Clan itself. While the man fights for his identity, his morality, the man is not what is there approaching the youth. All that can be seen is the monster that cemented his Clan's fame:
"So you do know a Velvet. Let me see if..." Suddenly, with little warning to the effect, the wolfman drops down to all fours for the sheer purpose of giving Tsinghua an investigative sniffing over. A very large nose twitches with each sharp inhalation, a series that is punctuated with an eventual exhalated puff of hot air. If he's going to name drop further, he's going to be sure it's who he thinks it is.
Scent tracking? That makes sense. But contact with people, places, from some time ago where the scents have greatly faded, can that really be accurate? Or is this a means of combining a sensitive nose with chi sensitivity? If so, the idea would be extremely, well, invasive.
"O-Oh no, I am so terribly sorry! I am fully aware of that rudeness, I simply forgot.. As an envoy, It's a tragic Mistake.."
The boy has.. weird priorities. His mistake seems to have made him genuinely distraught as he scrambles to his feet, offering a deep, deep bow as his longish green hair obscures his face. "My name is Tsinghua Tao of the noble Góng Estate- A-At your service.." Playing the subservient card: It tends to be a decent way to stay out of trouble. He holds the pose for a few solid seconds, even after Sabrewulf gave his own name.
But bowing down, he did not see him approach all that well: And the wolf is much closer when the boy rises- Provoking a startled "Eeek!" As the sniffing comes in, he flinces back. But after flinching, forces himself to freeze and let the wolf assess him- Closing his eyes shut very, very tight as he gets smelled. Even on all fours, Sabrewulf is around the same height as Tsinghua.
The fear and discomfort grow at the situation, especially when he hears- and feels the beast do his thing, but he holds steady.
"D-D-Did you arrive to any conclusion already?!" He blurts out almost unwillingly.
"Yes, I have."
The wolf has a form that is clearly best suited for causing great physical harm. While his height may not be much more than an average man, his musculature is intense. Despite having a furry pelt, the hair and hide only soften the distinction a little. Large teeth designed for gripping and ripping, very large claws designed for grabbing and tearing, it's no wonder why any average person would be terrified in such presence. The world has not had the most pleasant of histories involving lycanthropes, in the far past or even more present times.
Yet, there he is, all very much in Tsinghua's personal space. Even once done with the nonconsensual sniffing over, there he remains. There's something deeply oppressive about the beast. Something gloomy, dark, negative...deadly. Anybody with chi sensitivity is going to sense the roiling darkness with just a glimmer of light that is being smothered within. Still, that mote of self shines through, for the moment, in a way that hasn't fully happened for nearly a year. The beast stands tall with a single step back and returns the bow with one of his own. It is no simple mockery or facsimile; it is a practiced gesture and that much shows even through such a horrifying visage.
"You do not belong here, so what are you doing here? Surely somebody of the Góng family would not have their blood spilled in the dark alleyways of this overgrown city built upon smashed dreams and broken beer bottles. I have half a mind to be cross with you about it," as crossed arms suggest, yet the gesture fades as what should be a non-challenging grin grows upon the monster's face. "But, it seems we share the same level of irresponsibility today."
Tsinghua has the full attention of this Sabrewulf creature. Those eyes stare, stare, stare. The Darkstalker waits for an answer.
"G-G-Good!" The boy responded, finally daring to open his eyes again when the beast began to move it's snout away. Tsinghua is... far from an average height person. He is astoundingly short, in actuality.
He keeps standing up straight, his posture as impeccable as ever, even through the fear- Hightened by the unnerved feeling of the darkness within the beast. He straightened his garb, a long single-piece robe. Elegant and conservative, beige with embroidened patterns of flowers and leafs in green. Another green thing: his hair- Rather peculiar, really. In contrast to the werewolf's savagery, Tsinghua was neat and delicate in both his presentation and features.
"A- I am here as an Envoy, m-mr Sabrewulf. For a business contact abroad from my home. The taxi was supposed to take me directly to the hotel.." He sniffles a little in shame. "Yet, I lost my wallet and w-was kicked out- stranded! Truly a m-most unfortunate night." The boy explains, looking downtrodden- And literally looking downward. "And I think you saved me, mr. Sabrewulf- I would not have been able to face the thugs. I am not that skilled of a fighter- Truly, thank you dearly." Supressing the fear, he engages in another round of appeasment. It is a strategical decision in part, yet he speaks genuine.
"I do so loathe to imagine what would have happened, had you not stepped in."
Intentionally barring the fact that Sabrewulf -had- almost attacked him too. "I am surprised you are familiar with my masters, it is an honor-" The boy nods, and smiles a little awkwardly.
"Pray tell, how would you mean, mr. Sabrewulf?" In reference to his claim of irresponsibility.
To the matter of some familiarity with the Góng family legacy, all the beast has to offer is, "Old noble blood tends to know other old noble blood. It is the way of things." That implies something very peculiar that the werewolf elects not to elaborate on further. Instead, the cross-armed beast with fur colored a tint of dark blue gray -- even though the dim illumination of the alleyway darkens its appearance yet more -- inhales deeply before sighing. Once, not that long ago, Blue and Green were considered different hues of the same color. That's some sort of commonality, then?
"A far more conscious choice on my behalf, then, being here and...irresponsible. You need transportation."
Yet which modes of transportation could a back-alley beast offer a young boy? A werewolf-back ride would only draw attention and being carried like a sack of flour over a shoulder whilst climbing and leaping from building to building would be most uncomfortable. Yet could such a youth even dare to risk his safety to the prolonged presence of something so well made to maim and murder?
"I was hunting that group anyway. As it happens, your intervention likely saved them as much as I may have saved you. Still, they may yet have a use." Red eyes narrow, each motion an unnatural blur of afterimage from those hellish organs. "Tao Tsinghua," edges the wolf with an edge of stern formality. "Do not for a moment think at least one of those hooligans are not keeping watching for me to leave. Scavengers as they are, they may be so bold as to attempt to loot your assumedly chewed corpse. If I visibly leave, expect a return. If you leave, expect confusion and potential confrontation. Either way we may be able to lure one or more of them into a trap." Though, to what end? The violent possibilities are many.
"At least one of them must have a working van."
"I- I see, Sir- That makes blinding sense. Apologies for not recognizing you as nobility earlier."
He goes down again in another deep, courteous bow in apology, but is obviously surprised at the revelation. I mean, nothing about Sabrewulf, except his recently revealed manners, says 'nobility'.
"Transportation..?" He questions, though the answer would soon be interpreted from the beast's continued words. He could not mean.. riding, right?!
He did not mean that, Tsinghua.
"O-Oh, I am sorry to have troubled your, uhm, 'hunt'. B-But do you truly think that they would attempt such a thing? Th-They ran in terror.." His head gets tilted, reconsidering. "No.. You may be right. I do not understand the desperation of these people. You seem wise, and I will trust in that wisdom." The fear was subsiding.. as long as he didn't look at Sabrewulf's head for too long. That part was visually undoubtedly frightening to Tsinghua. "A trap, you say? If my only safe way out is truly acting as bait.. so be it. Though I do not wish to partake in any sort of.. m-murder."
"But If I would need to do my share in roughing the scoundrels up.." The boy sighs. "So be it."
"You suggest we steal their vehicle? I- I don't.. No, no. It is a justifiable action here.." He seems conflicted, were it possible, he would waltz out of this situation and be done with it- But the wolf is right, that safety isn't here.
"C-Can you drive, mr. Sabrewulf..?" Tsinghua can't, and Tsinghua is not sure if the wolf could do so with his body.
"The way I see it, the best option to spark curiosity is for you to leave and head up the street. I understand that these self-titled predators are dangerous, yet they are not gun-running drug-dealers. I have experience with the more violent side of things, even made mistakes on the way and needed help, so the way I see it this is returning the favor by, how does one say, paying it forward."
Turning to walk away toward the wall of the nearby building that boxes in the alley's shape, there's nothing stopping Tsinghua from booking it and fleeing completely except the boy's own judgment. "Though how much mercy are you willing to heap upon those ready to attack a child?" Sharp claws dig into the crumbling mortar between bricks and a quick leap allows the monster named Sabrewulf to grasp the bottom lip of a rusting fire escape platform.
It's no means an easy task, but superior strength allows the werewolf to begin climbing the metal scaffolding to head toward the roof. "We shall worry about driving when we come to it," offers he with a moment given to hang in his freestyle climbing to gaze downward. "Either hold your head high with confidence or keep it lowered. Either way will no doubt get a different response from those seeking to fleece you of your possessions."
A frustrated grunt, as his options are weighed and the wolf begins to hide himself. "I.. will see you soon, hopefully." A sentence that would imply his plan of going along with Sabrewulf. Tsinghua trembled, but attempted to get his emotions in order- A long 30 seconds later, he would finally find the confidence within himself to walk out of the Alley- It went on for a little while: But eventually, the boy would reach a street. Looking left and right, the thugs from earlier would not be in side- Only a dimly-lit street of weathered, yet lived-in houses.
And another alley he entered, doubts of Sabrewulf's assesment of the situation entering his mind- Yet with his accute observation and skill in chi, he does have the sense that the wolf is still following him as planned. It seems he went for the latter option: His head bowed down. And it happened. The muscular man from earlier turns a corner- Kian. Dressed in a dirty white shirt and partially ripped jeans. "Now, Ow' the Fuck did 'ou make it out!" He clenches his teeth, eyes open white as he yells at the boy in anger- "Ar' you some sorta Dog whistler?!" That's supposed to be 'whisperer' The unnamed thug that ran away earlier is at Kian's side. But Jeremy was nowhere to be seen.
"Tsch- Cause' of 'ou Tina ran away! She bloody boke up with me, she did! Yur gon' pay for dat!" "And Jeremy's is screaming in pain around the corner!" Both of them pull a knife, holding it with: at best, shaky determination. If they were actually planning on attacking the boy, was unsure. But throughout all of this, Tsinghua kept silent and still. Internally prepared to lash out and strike in tandem when Sabrewulf found it fit to make his surprise attack.
But there is the fear of being abandoned, the irratonal fear that the wolf left already and that he's stepping into an early death- That kind of fear, creeping beneath the service.
It may be hard to see around the bulk of Kian and his lackey, so it may be difficult to see the stalking shape that silently drops down from above and begins to creep in closer from their rear. If the werewolf so wanted, he could easily strike down both thugs. The predatory grace of the lone wolf is beautiful and horrifying. Not a click of nail is heard, not a breath is audible, and even as the pair draw weapons in threat the blue gray monstrosity rises from four 'legs' to only two. How could neither punk feel the hot breath on their necks. There is a moment where it seems the ferocity burning in those unholy eyes may hint to a turning over to the bloodlust of Sabrewulf's bestial side. The corners of the creature's muzzle curl into a cruel grin. It's nothing like the friendly gesture Tsignhua was offered moments ago. Finally, that tooth-filled maw is used to further the situation, but not with bloodletting. Not yet.
"You run, you die."
There's absolutely no reason to belief this is a bluff. Sabrewulf has the means and the presence and the opportunity. Kian and his comrade don't even need to turn around to know what stands there now; the sound of the voice is inhuman enough to give it away. Those aren't the only words spoken, but there is emphasis given on their being spoken first with just enough pause thereafter to let it be understood. "Disarmed or dismembered. Choose. We're going to come to an agreement, all limbs attached or not, and I think you'd prefer to stay in one piece as much as I would like to be able to understand you without screams and crying."
An ultimatum. That's...generous, but terror can do a lot to a person's judgment. This could go either way. If any attempt is made to move toward the youth, the measured reaction will likely involve claws and blood. As if to punctuate this, a trickle of saliva begins to fall from Sabrewulf's top teeth onto his bottom while a few rivulets ribbon downward from that maw off his chin.
Tsinghua's assistance might not be required after all.
Because just like that, the two men yell out- Terror filling the souls of both of them when the smiling wolf makes his presence known: And he is oh-so-close. And it is interesting how terror can manifest itself in different people.
One ran, while the other stayed.
"YAAAAAAAH-! No, No!" Kian. Kian was the foolish coward that started a mad dash toward Tsinghua- He was planning on running past the boy, but in the heat of such a moment, the difference between an attack and escape would be muddled. The nameless goon, he stayed- Utterly trembling and silent in fear, not unlike Tsinghua's intitial reaction. Speaking of Tsinghua's reaction, a screaming man with a knife is running his way. He widens his stance, puts his arms forward- Ready to strike, or catch the man.
The question is if Sabrewulf would even let him get that far.
One motion. One swipe of the claws. The werewolf doesn't aim anywhere vital. He simply aims low, to rake across the back of the lower calf and above the heel in a surgical strike. Contact may even barely be felt, so sharp are those claws, but the result may become disastrously apparent when Kian's weight comes to bear atop that foot without the guidance of a very important tendon. If the man falls on his own knife, that's his own fault. Sabrewulf does not give chase. He never threatened to chase. He'd much rather establish dominance through his close presence alone.
Of course, such a crash and burn may leave Tsinghua with his own troubles to avoid. Literally. Unless he faces them head on. Mind the knife. It's sharp.
The werewolf simply turns his head to look at Jeremy's friend. "Would you like to try? Want a headstart? Or are you going to be smart and provide us with a van for transportation?" Sabrewulf doesn't expect the words to be parsed immediately, but he's patient and happy to continue standing right there. The wolf's nose wrinkles just a bit. "Breathe. Tighten your abs. I smell a bit of urine. Control yourself."
"Hhhhhhhh!" Kian exhales sharply as his leg gets cout down, making him tumble forwards- the Knife thankfully clattering across the stone tiles. Tsinghua almost gets caught up in the fall, but the boy manages to step out of the way before that can happen- The boy's face is pulling pale at the inevitable blood that had been spilled. He diverts his eyes slightly, to make sure the wound itself is out of sight.
"Aaaauh- Auhw." Moaning in pain. All the while Jeremy's pal looks in horror as the beast speaks to him directly. "P-Please, please don't eat us.." He begins, before Sabrewulf had even been able to get his point across- But the wolf's words do sink in eventually, and the thug begins looking between Kian and Sabrewulf. "I- We own a car!!" He blurts out. Not a van, but a car. "B-Boss has the keys.. in his pants.." "Hrr- Jesse, you idiot- Idiot!" The boss grunts out. "I advise you to remain still, while I search your pockets." Tsinghua, somewhat recklessly leans over: Looking for any bulge in his pockets to indicate the presence of a key. He does not want to touch this man more then he has to.. Eventually, he seems to spot it and leans in, reaching out his hand to pluck-
*Fwoom* Adrenaline fueled by Kian's desperation kicks in, and in one smooth motion snatches the knife from the floor while restraining Tsinghua at the neck with the other arm; A chokehold! "K-Hg!" The messenger grunts out in surprise, as the blade is brought to his neck. "St-Stay ba', let Jesse go! We gettin' out of here or I'll slit his throat!" His hand is positively trembling, making the blade graze past Tsinghua's skin painfully. "N-No!"
That was Tsinghua, realizing his mistake in assuming this was over. He looks scared, but determined. It seems obvious that, if Sabrewulf won't, Tsinghua is ready to make his own move against the Thug's feeble last assault.
The change in the air is almost palpable as the demeanor of the werewolf shifts. Like a wave washing over the area, whorls of chi chaotically ripple outward, and saliva begins to pour from the beast's jaws. Those glowing eyes increase in intensity even as a hellish rumble builds deep in the monster's throat. He has been nothing but amiable in this second meeting, but, as usual, the state of being unintelligent and desperate make for a combination that reveals that violence often IS the answer.
Like an engine revving in preparation to quickly accelerate, the sound from the wolf grows, begins again and grows more, and then again, stronger. Louder. To what end? Sabrewulf wants Kian's full attention. If Kian hurts the boy, his life comes to an end. There's as much threat either way. Oh, but the werewolf bristles in fur, flexes in muscle, jaws snapping without shutting all in a display of pure animalistic fury.
Make eye contact. Keep eye contact. Dominate this weak-willed man through stare alone. Look death in the eyes before if snuffs the light from your soon-to-be-cooling body while the blood drains from your rent neck to wash away the sins of a wasted life.
This, of course, would pull attention from the boy. Tsinghua isn't the only chi-sensitive being present and, well, Konrad the Man may know a thing or two that bleeds over into the form of being that he is now. When you find an opening in a fight, you take it. Exploit weakness. That's what Sabrewulf does: he exploits the weakness of fearfulness to create an opening. Jesse and his knife get front row seats to what might be a grand finale. A wise man would avoid an encore presentation.
"Wow.." Tsinghua utters, at Sabrewulf's sheer display of ferocity and -power-. He is not the target of that harrowing stare and terrifying rumble, but a chill runs down his spine all the same.
What might be a chill for Tsinghua, would be something much bigger for Kian. Not unlike Jesse over there, he just.. freezes. Eyes open wide as the knife falls and clatters across alley. "Hhhh- Hhhh! Stay Awa-"
And Tsinghua followed in the wolf's footsteps to take advantage of that fear, having pushed out his elbow before -slamming- it into Kian's stomach. Enough strength to slightly make him double over. Tsinghua turns around while pushing out his palm into the man's chin from below, knocking him straight off of his feet. And Tsinghua? Tsinghua just looks -angry- "Get your filthy hands off of me, lowlife!" And for good measure, the boy kicks his neck. It really is a display of fury very much unlike the boy.
"Scumbag, Ghhh! Hmph." The noble messenger looks down toward him with disgust, but even for the Battery that Kian recieved, his reaction is limited to a few soft whimpers and groans. His will had been utterly broken. "-Cough, cough. A-Apologies for a display of such uncouth nature." But the politeness returned, because it always does. This time, bending over the man provokes no reaction as he finally plucks out the car keys.
"It.. seems you saved me again. I 'payed forward' one debt, but another now remains.." He comments, rubbing his cheek. "Now, it seems our next move will be clear- Mr. Jesse, where is your car?"
Oh, right- Jesse. He was still here, standing stark with his jaw dropped. With shaky arm, he points-
"P-Parking lot.. The old red Ford.."
The only thing that keeps the furred freak from outright pouncing the downed man and ripping out his throat is the youth's martial display and break in demeanor. This does not, however, keep the beast from stalking over -- notably with zero stealth so that each footstep is heard -- to place a foot atop the man's chest. He stares downward, spittle hanging free only to splatter against the man's cheek and forehead, and points a clawed finger that holds almost as much threat as his growling breaths. "Alive. Drag yourself to your friend nearby," meaning Jeremy, "and get him help." A sharp snarl punctuates the end of his command.
"I will be back and if I...EVER...catch you or your friends up to the same criminal deconstruction of your environment," Sabrewulf adds, although his words slow and drop an octave to emphasize the gravelly undertones of his voice when he continues. "I will hold you down with one hand and eat each segment of each finger one at a time until I decide which part to eat next." Those dangerously strong jaws suddenly close with a loud click of teeth and a splash of drool. Only then does he turn away to deal with the matter of the vehicle.
Would Sabrewulf truly do such an awful thing? Who wants to test him and find out?
Tsinghua. The other two men, well- They were too scared to make a noise- any noise, except a submissive. "Never- Never again.." From Jesse. One would hope that to mean 'Never Crime Again'. But considering the circumstance, that seems to be the logical conclusion. "That.. Is quite a vivid description.." The boy admits, he looks just a little bit nauseous from the words. Because one will automatically start to imagine when a story is told. Jesse.. Does as he is told, beginning to scrape himself forward and around the corner, only daring to stand up when he's a little further from the werewolf. A gag and splashing noise is heard, The poor guy Puked. The 'big boss' Kian, just trembles on the ground. He'll have to recover from this.. mentally. Well, try to, at least. "A forceful lesson, but one they are not like to forget."
The boy pats down his dirtied robes, brushing off the dirt where possible- But they are obviously going to need a wash later.
"He pointed in that direction.. Shall we begin to walk?"
Five words and five words only are given to Tsinghua in reply: "Are you able to drive?" It's an important question. Most cars will have a very difficult time trying to accommodate Sabrewulf's bodily shape. There's a reason he was hoping for a van. Of course, he also planned on dragging one of the thugs along to play chauffeur, but that didn't pan out, either.
Something that Tsinghua may become very aware of concerning the large werewolf involves his posture and subtle movements. The glowy-eyed creature does not like to be out in the open. Especially in areas he considers hunting grounds. He hunches a little, trying to be smaller, and his ears swivel like mad to listen to what little can be heard nearby. His footfalls and breathing grow generally silent once more. His pace is naturally quick, though, which may inadvertently force the youth co-accompanying to hurry to keep up.
The incident with the thugs will need discussion, and there's still Tina to deal with, so work is certainly not complete for the fuzzy vigilante in this part of the world. It's not his first attack on the criminal underbelly that preys upon other people. There may be police reports after the fact, but he makes sure that only those guilty face tooth and claw. Yet, while his actions have saved people, they are still not legal. This has been, however, one of the only ways for Konrad to appease the beast that controls his body. A compromise. One that won't last, but a compromise nonetheless. There are other organizations that have taken notice of these actions, but Sabrewulf is still very much unaware.
"I... Might have made mention of it earlier, but I am afraid, not, mr. Sabrewulf."
Plainly spoken. Tsinghua does speed up for the hurried wolf. "There would be little point for me, I'm afraid- And I am a little too young still." He shakes his head. "So that might prove a problem- I had speculated in my head, regarding your.. shape." He lays his chin in his hand, as they walk. "Let us hope the car is spacious, perhaps it could still work.."
And a minute or two later, they arrive. "Now, lets see.." It is a small parking lot, one reserved for inhabitants of the neighbourhood. The red ford is not hard to spot- For those more knowledgable in cars, it is a 2003 Ford Escape. And old, somewhat crappy car- But quite a broad one with a tall roof.
"What is your judgement, mr. Sabrewulf? I can only follow you in your decision, for now."
Ultimately, Sabrewulf looks annoyed. Internally, there is much cursing and screaming and struggle over the state of his body. Yet another issue that would easily be solved with a human form. Now, Sabrewulf is not overly tall for what he is. He's mostly just bulky and barrel-chested. That and heavy. "Unlock the doors. Maybe check the trunk for drugs or tied-up children. Dump them on the ground, if so." It's a joke, right? There is no clarification. The blue-gray beast does a full circle around the vehicle to check each tire. He'll assume the shock absorbers won't. It's important to know that there's enough air or the general state of the treads to know if there's missing grip.
Presented with an unlocked driver's side door, though, will result in an open door, some kneeling, and some groping around to see if there's a manual latch to slide the seat back. All. The. Way. If it's not enough, he'll have to remove the seat back altogether. This is likely a very bizarre scene to witness if any residents nearby take notice.
The boy does as instructed, opens the trunk, and.. Just a whole lot of trash. Like, actually- A bag of trash that hasn't been taken out yet. It -stinks-. Well, it's not drugs, or a tied-up-child, but he dumps it on the ground nontheless. Tsinghua would like as much comfort as possible, even in such a crappy car. The inside in general is rather dirty, with a musty smell hanging around. "It.. Will have to do." The boy comments, sighing as he opens the door and gets in. Out of consideration for Sabrewulf's thickness, he decides to sit in the back so that the front of the car is reserved for the werewolf. "Apologies for putting you through this. Now, where shall we go? I do still have the tickets to my hotel- I could check in, and perhaps you could.. sneak in through the window, or whatnot? It would make for a comfortable place to talk, at the very least."
"Or if that will not work, would you have other suggestions?" Whatever the answer is, Tsinghua seems to lean back into his seat, resting his head on the torn headrest. He closes his eyes, fatigue setting in. While he is still awake, at this rate he'll be napping as Sabrewulf drive them to their destination, wherever that may be,
"Tao Tsinghua of the Góng family," speaks Sabrewulf as he tries to cram himself into the confines of the vehicle. How the hell do clowns do it? It's embarrassing and undignified, but this is where the night has lead. "You cannot be seen with the likes of me, by any risk." Fighting with the key to get it to turn when you have thick fingers and sharp claws is an absolute chore. It doesn't help that the engine won't turn over at first and the werewolf, in his strength, nearly gives the engine too much fuel in his pumping of the accelerator. The beast begins to growl as he fights with the car, but eventually there's a spark, pistons fire, and combustion is a go. The car is on.
Now, if the car is such a mess and the stench of trash is that horrible, imagine what it must be like to have a strong sense of smell. Sabrewulf's knee bumps the gear selector lever and another growl is let loose. Eventually, the car begins to move and the driver becomes accutely aware that any amount of time spent cramped and stooping in the seat like this is going to lend to sore muscles later. "We are going to your hotel under the cover of darkness and I'm dropping you off and you are going to put this night behind you." The click of a turn signal indicator cuts on as he pulls out onto the nearby road.
It's an easy thing to say, but...
Log created on 18:28:35 08/03/2021 by Tsinghua, and last modified on 06:59:24 08/06/2021.