Mistress and the Hound

Rutilus looked out across Karakura town from one of the tall cliffs at the towns outskirts. He was waiting patiently for the small pack of Barghest he had dispatched to return to him with information on his Mistress' current whereabouts, she had been somewhat sketchy after her run in with the Shinigami some time ago. Then again, she had always been cautious, sometimes even borderline paranoid.

The Barghests returned shortly, approaching from the nearby shadows, glowing red eyes directed at him; they had seemingly found her. Rutilus nodded before he commanded them to lead him to her, he had to tell her about what the Barghests had found out shortly after his Mistress little game with the Shinigami.

Once they arrived at her hideout the first thing he saw was the small and frail shape of Aurora Vespera her red eyes seemingly gazing right into his soul, at least they would have if he had one. But still, it was surprisingly unnerving. The girl nodded slowly before she made notice of him to follow her, and began leading them towards their mistress..

Aurora had immediately took notice when Rutilus returned. Out of all of the Diabolus he was perhaps the strangest, if not the kindest towards her. It was...good, in a way. Her mind, thought back to the children caught in Dorothy's game, and although she felt some remorse, it was quickly crushed. It was unfortunate they were caught up in her mistresses schemes, but it had to be done. As Rutilus approached her she nodded in acknowledgement turned around and lead him inside.

Dorothy had a rather twisted sense of irony, choosing an old, religious temple devoted to keeping evil spirits at bay as her hideout. Of course with the application of barriers, sealing, and illusions, the template was properly warded, alarmed and most of well, fortified. Aurora and Rutilus found Dorothy lazily stretched out on her...throne, a sort of makeshift altar transfigured as a throne fit for a king. She was sipping a glass filled with a red liquid....judging by its scent, it was likely blood...human at that.

"Ahh Rutilus! You've returned, did your cute hounds find anything of interest?" she asked.

Rutilus signaled for one of the biggest of the Barghests whom had accompanied him, it walked over and lied down before his feet, before he spoke, his voice stern: "The Barghests have noticed that there's more than Shinigami in this town, there seems to be some odd form of Spiritually Aware humans as well, particularily a young boy that I noticed a while back in one my earlier bargains"

Rutilus folded his hands across his chest as he walked back and forth "There was also this odd man that presumably brought down one of the imps that played the main part in your games. He seemingly lacks Spiritual Power, the Barghests were at least unable to sense anything from him. I think I'll attempt to make contact with him at a later date, I think it'd be wise of us t-" Rutilus is interrupted by the sound of the massive doors to the temple being forcibly slammed open; revealing a blue-haired man wearing a characteristic purple coat, which was long enough to run just past his knees.

The newcomer walked quickly up to Dorothy as he kicked one of the Barghests to the side violently, eliciting a yelp from the beast: As well as angry growls from Rutilus and its brothers, the Blue-haired man began to speak almost immediately, not letting Rutilus finish his sentence at all "Mistress, I've come to inform you of some troubling creatures that I encountered - they define themselves as Pagan Gods and have proven themselves VERY, with extra emphasis on "Very", annoying." the newcomer tapped his foot indignantly for some moments, before continuing.

"I happened to get abit rough with one of theirs, you see.. and then I was assaulted by an effeminate vanity-salad of fanatic justice! Now, this guy was especially annoying, he asked me to leave but then he quickly decided to follow me instead; he stopped me several times and all the while openly exclaiming how he were a "God" and how horrible I was and bla-bla-bla" The newcomer, whom the other Diabolus present would instantly recognize as Flamen seemingly continued to mutter several not-so-decent phrases and oaths of which only a single line was identifiable, namely "How I miss Hell".

Rutilus grinned wickedly at him before he continued "Mistress, I'm going to, as I previously stated look more closely into this newcomer, he seemed knowledgeable enough about us to be a pain on a later occasion. While I'm up at it, I'll check out that Shinigami whom ye played with earlier" Rutilus folded his hands across his bare chest as he awaited his Mistress response.

Dorothy seems oddly amused by the two of you, but considers the information carefully for a second before responding. She points a finger lazily at Rutilus as she says, "Very well then Rutilus, continue with your investigation, but keep me informed of any new...developments. While you're at, dig a little onto any notable spiritually aware humans you find. If they can be corrupted then that is certainly a boon for us. Though make sure you stay out of trouble...unless of course you're the one making it! Then by all means."

Her gaze lingers for a moment, those sinister red slitted eyes peering beneath that mop of blonde hair. Its quite unnerving. Like staring into the abyss, and hoping one isn't swallowed whole by the attempt.

"Now, Flamen, you mentioned...Pagan Gods?" She said questioningly. "How odd, if you can, look into this." Flamen's face fell at that, though Dorothy seemed to enjoy his suffering, if only for a little. "You don't have to look for them, just get me some information, something we can use against them. But thats your secondary objective, your primary is helping Aurora with the surveillance. I don't want her alone in case she has to meet with any other Shinigami. Oh and as always, take note of any corruptible mortals. Now shoo, you have work to do to." To emphasis this point, she shoos the three away, as she sips her drink.

After Class Meeting
Michael Valoel Armstrong pulls up to the quiet, empty school. The police investigation ended earlier that morning, having been unable to find any definitive clues as to the cause of the playground's destruction. He gets off of his ancient, busted-looking motorcycle, and steps onto the grounds. The security guard tries to hault him, but stops cold as the full height of the 7-foot figure comes into view. Without looking at the guard, Michael mutters, "Detective" in a thick, nearly indiscernable german accent and brushes past the confused man.

Once past the gate, the hairs on the back of Armstrong's neck rise. Although the playground is located in the back of the school, he can already feel it: vast quantities of reiatsu have suffused the area. Among it is the familiar stench of evil... but there is also something else. Something pure.

He has to watch his step as he makes his way across the playground. A toppled tree is blocking the path, and the tangled remains of a swingset lie thirty feet from their original location in a shape reminscent of a pretzel.

"Vat in ze hell happened heya?"

One of the police officers present hurries over to Michael as he begin to explain a dozen of ridicolous theories, such as bombing, terrorism and the likes; none of which sound plausible, all that he knows is that the bombing took place at night, because there was noone whom heard the spectacle.

A few scientists are also present, though they are equally clueless: The Spiritual Power that Michael would undouptedly feel would be especially strong along the north wing of the Pre-school where it seems that it had the day before, more or less exploded in power for a single moment.

Over there though, an odd sight awaits him, a large dog seems to search around the rubble, sniffing for the very traces that Michael follows. Most oddly of all, is the fact that Michael doesn't realize that it is a Spiritual being before he takes a few more steps; naturally the other people aren't able to see it, and along with the realization that it is indeed a Spiritual being; comes the foul putrid stench of evil, mingled with the scent of dryed blood. This is most definately not a good-natured spirit.

The dog raises its head to look at you, its eyes glow dimly red - and something drips from its jaws, something red. Its intense stare seem oddly discomforting, as Michael would slowly find himself ambushed by latent fears, this however is over soon as Michael, trough many years of demon hunting would undouptedly have learned how to handle such situations.

The dog looks at him once more, clearly awaiting his move.

Reflexively, Armstrong reaches underneath his coat for his trusted revolvers... but stops short of pulling them out. ''Too many people here... all they'll see is me shooting a gun... Eh, screw the consequences, it's a demon. He whips out law and justice'' with practiced speed and precision, but by the time he brings the revolvers to bear on the hound, it has already vanished in a haze of darkness. Michael only barely glimpses its retreating form as it moves rapidly around the shadowy corner of the school and towards the street. It's at this point that he becomes acutely aware that every person in the vicinity is staring at him, and it's now blatantly obvious he is not a member of their investigation. ''Oh crap. ''Michael makes a break for it, and manages to get all the way back to the school's entrance before the police officers behind him are able to compose themselves and give chase. The security guard attempts to stop the stocky German, and gets closelined for his effort. Michael revs up his motorcycle, and spots the rapidly phazing hellhound farther up the street. The chase is on.

The Chase
The supernatural beast moves with uncanny speed, and is easily able to keep pace with Michael's motorcycle. In spite of his efforts, its ability to phase through shadows makes it an absurdly hard target to track. And if that wasn't difficult enough, he also has to contend with dodging and weaving through the traffic as he accelerates to deadly speeds, not to mention the squad of police cars in pursuit behind him. He does manage to draw a bead on the Barghest, however, and fires a volley of reiryoku-enhanced silver bullets at it, while his other hand controls the bike.

The Barghest barely manages to arrive at the foot of one of the shadows that cloak the railroad, it is gone before the bullet makes contact. Meanwhile, the police call for backup to stop what they deem to be a crazy madman shooting in all directions seemingly at random.

The shadows around the parade seems to spring to life as two more Barghest appears at either side, waiting for an opening to strike; as the police begin to shout at the bulky man that he is to stop the motorcycle: However, this is an order that Michael cannot follow, because of the fact that the minute he does that, the Barghests would be over him in but a moment, and the bloodbath would emerge for full.

Three more Barghest stealthily approach from behind the motorcycle while Michael is preoccupied shooting at their brother: The one closest to Michael makes a quick leap for him; aiming to grab ahold of his thick neck no doupt.

As the leading Barghest vanishes from sight, Michael notices motion in his peripheral vision and in his side mirrors. His instincts kick in, and he goes into a defensive 360° drift and sweeps the surrounding Barghests off their feet. The leaping hellhound manages to sink its teeth into his shoulder, drawing blood. After righting the motorcycle, he pulls the snarling creature off of him by its neck and thrusts it into a nearby set of trailer tires.

At this point the police unholster their guns and prepare to fire; meanwhile, several more of the Barghest seems to mysteriously vanish, as another creature appears. It is roughly twice the size as the normal Barghests and it is black, with maroon marks and patterns upon its paws, back, ears and the tip of its tail; the Spiritual Power it releases is several times the strength of the normal Barghest; Michael only manages to get a short glance of it before it vanishes.

The police have ceased shouting and take aim for Michaels motorcycle. They fire one round each, aiming to halt the vehicles movements completely and allowing them to apprehend the driver in question: One of the Police officers seem to shout into some sort of transmitter, the word "Helicopter" being heard trough the noise.

Of course it couldn't be easy, Michael thinks with a wry grin. He swerves sharply and passes underneath the trailer and across to the far right lane, positioning the truck between him and the squad cars that follow. This proves to be too much for his motorcycle's tires, and they become entirely stripped. Flecks of burning metal and sparks cascade around the rims as they beat against the concrete, but he continues accelerating across the Karakura town bridge. Up ahead, he spots an unwelcome sight; a large number of armed police officers have erected a barricade, and have blocked the other exits. Hovering above them is a chopper, ready to give chase if he manages to squeeze by. There's my escape vehicle. He grins again, the livid smile parting his square face.

The officers open fire on him as he speeds forward. Miraculously, their shots miss him, as he ramps off of an inclined trailer bed nearby and over the wall of squad cars. As he passes underneath the helicoptor, he grabs onto its underside and the momentum of the motorcycle carries the battered bike away. It lands some distance down the road and explodes.

Michael laments the loss of his trusted bike for a moment, until the nose of a double barrel shotgun slips out of the open compartment of the chopper and is pointed at his face. With his free hand, he grabs the muzzle and pulls. The police officer inside is hurled out of the chopper and into the bay below. Armstrong pulls himself into the interior. One look at the giant's frowning face and the .45 colt being levelled at him is all the motivation the pilot needs. They speed away across the bay, leaving the police force behind.

"Keep your eyes ahead, herr pilot." When the pilot tries to sneak a glance at Michael, the german fires off a warning shot past the officer's head and into the windshield. He doesn't look back again. As the helicoptor arrives near the opposite side of the bay, Michael quietly slips out of the chopper and falls into the waters below. As he drags his body out of the water and into the light of high noon, he spots a good hiding place some distance up the beach. An abandoned construction site, probably the skeleton of a resort condominium, lies ahead.

He pulls himself out of the water and strips off his drenched leather jacket and white undershirt. His rippling muscles practically sparkle in the light as he rushes toward the construction zone.

Man Versus Beast
Michael had not been wrong in his deduction, at the Construction Site it was practically swarming with Barghest, oddly enough though they didn't attack. But it had to be well over a dozen - Michael could only assume that if he attacked one, the others would retaliate - He realized that he'd be hard pressed to defeat them under the circumstances.

At the middle of the construction site sat an especially large Barghest; Michael would instantly recognize it as being the creature from before, once he approaches it quickly changes into the shape of a young man, with maroon eyes and hair. However, naked, so much for the menancing first impression.

The man mumbles something along the lines of "Uhm, could you please put on hold for a moment" before walking behind some large iron bars, not even bothering to cover himself up as he goes, shortly afterwards he returns, still wearing very little; only a pair of red slacks, and leaving the rest bare.

"So, you're the one who's been shooting at my pack, be glad you didn't hit anyone, or I could've become slightly grumpy." The man seems to sniff in the air for some moments, as he seems to compare the scent the Barghest have picked up to that of Michael "Hmm.. a dish of slight peppermint, the penetrating odor of sweat, a generous amount of high-quality German Cologne. Yes, there's no mistake about it, you were one of those whom saved the children in my Mistress's little game" the man folds his arms across his bare chest as he regards Michael curiously.

Michael cracks his neck and knuckles as Rutilus speaks and dresses, and withdraws a small leather bag from his satchel. After undoing its drawstring, he scoops out handfulls of a white, chalk-like substance and smears them across his moist body. The rays of light passing through the steel I-beams surrounding the area catch and reflect the particles on him, and the motes of dust around him likewise shimmer in the sun. The sparkling juggernaut then slips a pair of massive, lion-headed motif gauntlets onto his forearms as he responds, "Vat of it? Just anothar stinking demon to kill... like othars befowe. And many othars to follow. And speaking of stinking..." He inhales through his sizeable nostrils for emphasis as his frowning eyes beat into Rutilus, "...how many muts do I have to take to the pound today?"

The seven foot three inch tall musclebound warrior assumes an offensive posture with unusual grace for his size. His stance resembles some type of cross between a boxer and a wrestler, resting the majority of his weight on his bent back leg and keeping his chest and face low, with his guantleted arms raised and extended forward above his chest. His gaze stares unfaulteringly at Rutilus, and the arcus demon can practically feel the rage welling up from this peculiar mortal.