mason normandin ( werewolf ) . (biggestbaddest) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2012-05-06 15:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | #group scene, 2009-09-07, mason, odin, orion |
and the nightmare begins as the devil rides out.
Who: Mason, Orion, and Odin. [PLUS NPC Legionaries!]
Where: The bridge.
When: Early evening.
The captain had been reluctant about letting him come back to work already but when Mason got things into his head, it was all but impossible to sway him. Thankfully, his superior knew that, and eventually he had relented. What else could he do when Mason showed up to work that morning? Telling him to go home had been futile, and all arguments that he might throw out his knee again had fallen on deaf ears. Mason had simply looked the captain right in the eye. repeated the line "I'm fine" several times, and that had been that. End of discussion. It was good to know that he could get his way, Mason had always liked that, and besides, he wasn't doing anyone any good sitting around at home. He hated sitting on his hands, his patience had never been the best to begin with, and hearing about all the trouble they'd been having at the primary bomb site over the course of the last twenty-four hours had only made him all the more eager to get back out there. If nothing else, this gave him something to do when Kiley herself had to be at work.
At sporadic intervals throughout the day there had been shouts or other sounds of struggle all along the site, and it wasn't until later in the day that Mason managed to bully his way onto the bridge itself. What was the point in having a werewolf on site if you weren't going to put them right in the middle of things? When they finally admitted that to themselves and let him onto the bridge, Mason got his first good look at the place. There was something hanging in the air, an oppressive and uncomfortable closeness that made Mason feel on edge. He immediately decided he hated it. Naturally he had heard the stories, but there was a difference between hearing and seeing. It wasn't long before Mason got his first look at what they had to deal with.
It didn't look like much at first, a trick of the light, something distorted by the setting sun and the shifting dust and debris. It was only when Mason stopped what he was doing and actually fully focused on what he had seen that it became a clear. What he had first thought was just shifting smoke was actually the edge of a form that had been partially hidden from view by a hunk of concrete. It didn't so much step as it did stalk into view, and immediately Mason was tense and ready to attack. In wolf form, his hackles would have been standing on end down the length of his spine.
How had they been dealing with these things so far? Mason had heard those stories as well; one in particular had included a man sprouting wings as he fought with the creature. Mason didn't have that luxury, nor did he have an axe like that man had been seen with. What he had was a gun, and instinctively he loosened the weapon in its holster.
The sound of the strap being clicked free had that dark head snapping in his direction. Mason didn't curse or even so much as growl. Instead he simply acted, even as the thing started moving towards him, shoulders hunched predatorily, pace quickening with each stride.
Drawing and levelling the weapon, he squeezed the trigger. When the thing kept coming, the shot to its chest not even so much as slowing it down, Mason fired again, and then again. It was only after that third shot, with the creature drawing ever closer, that Mason realised what he was doing wrong, what he should have been doing from the beginning. Raising his aim, he fired off three more shots in rapid succession, this time into the thing's head. Only then did it jerk back and crumple to the ground.
Mason didn't lower his gun, cautiously moving closer to the shape on the ground. It looked human in its form, the proportions were the same, but it was so dark, there was no way to mistake it for a man.
When he was sure the thing wasn't moving anymore, he started to lower his gun, albeit slowly. It was at that exact moment that a weight struck him from the right. The force of it threw him to the side and then down and over. It was only his reflexes that saved him from landing wrong or twisting painfully as he rolled, but the shock of the impact left him sprawled on his back. Even before he started to rise, he saw the second dark figure stalking towards him. His gun was several feet away, knocked clear in the collision. "Shit." Now seemed like a good time to curse.