Beach Party

Kade was busy and drunk, and he was unaware of the small mob of people with bats and bricks. Angry filthy racist who hated meta-humans. He wasn't a meta human, but that doesn't matter to them nor were they smart enough to know the difference. One of them threw a brick at Kade, and it shattered on him." Death to metahumans." One screamed.

Kade felt nothing, it was like he was hit by a pillow. If he was in his right mind, he would have stopped them as they charged with bats, and bricks. He still never paid them no mind as they hit his body with bats. What they did was annoy the hell out of him. Annoying a drunk child of an eldritch god was a bad idea. He grabbed one by the arm, and squeezed, shattering his entire arm, and threw him far far into the air. The other was punched so hard that he stopped moving, his entire body was broken. He stopped and took another swig of his barrel and fell on one of them, crushing his lower body. The man started to scream and hit Kade, but Kade felt barely any of it." Gods, I am drunk." He gagged and vomited on the screaming man, the bile looked like a stream of stars.

There were more who were brave enough to throw bricks at the dragon which irritated, no enraged Kade. However, he was still being hit by twigs who stopped when he turned to them." Leave me alone!" His third eye opened and insanity gripped them before it closed. They saw the heat death of reality and the horrors of all of the outer gods. Those left were afraid, fearful of who they attacked."

There was some other fool who attempted to attack the dragon, seeing his injuries, and what was worse is he had a switchblade.

Seems the intuition that the shit was about to hit the fan was right.

Deimos did not expect a riot this quickly over seemingly nothing but a party and their presence. He knew well enough that there were some who had been swayed into some way of thinking after the first London incident, and part of him could empathize. Half the population of one of the largest cities on earth was suddenly buried beneath it’s streets, due to one metahuman who decided to play god… then had the audacity to be revived. Rinse and repeat. However the cognitive dissonance was somewhat astounding in realizing that metahumans were willing to attack London in the first place and the only way to combat some of them was to have a bigger badder metahuman to hold the territory. The irony of the ‘noblesse oblique” stereotype of his kind was not lost upon him.

Deimos’s tail lashes as bricks and the typical riot behavior ensues, the host of this fun disaster seeming to have had enough… only then did something click. He’d seen this man before. A stream he’d only somewhat heard tangentially. Apparently someone thought it genius to call him out by name on a livestream, it was enough to earn a huff as Deimos had used the stream as background noise while accomplishing some task. With an ironic smirk he mentally thought this some kind of comeuppance for toying with the emotionally drained masses. There was a reason Deimos dodged the public eye at every opportunity, and this was it.

The bricks and sand did little but annoy the dragon, he turns his head slightly to the left so any projectile would his the uninjured side of his face. His uninjured wing rolls forward to obscure Talesin a bit better to make him harder to hit and the injured wing dips to the sand to make it less likely to get hit by a brick. He knew Jordan would be alright if a heavy object found it’s mark, he’d be more concerned about the sad sap that threw it. Sadly having to turn his head did make his field of vision to that side a bit weaker as his eyes were facing further to the left.

Then the stinging burn of pressure on his splinted wing earned a sky shattering screech. A switchblade dug into the freshly broken bones spilling steaming dragonblood across the sand. Fire and fury boiled in the dragon as he finally stood his full height, eyes bright with the glow of a dying cosmos. His jaw drops as the glowing threat of dragon flame grows brighter threatening to roast into the crowd. The rational side of his mind chided him, begging himself to have mercy.

Vengeance was a mercy upon oneself.

He yanks his head back toward the knife wielding miscreant, a torrent of white hot dragonflame, powerful enough to melt stone to liquid and the sand beneath the man began to curl up into jaggest glass crystals as the barrage of fire seemed to last for almost a full minute as all the oil in his glands flooded to fuel it. Never had he poured so much effort into one fiery blast in his life, but by god that hurt! The blaze only stopped when it sputtered out due to no more fuel being left in his system, leaving only smoke, glass and a skeleton charred black yet somehow still ambulatory.

Deimos has had approximately enough. He’d tolerated all he could, and the option to fly somewhere else was stripped from him. He’d have to assert the authority his kind demanded. Turning back toward the crowd he lets out a deafening roar, quivering with a deadly screeching undertone. The mere sound enough to demand the silence of lesser beings as he pauses, demanding the beach to be his. The threat of further draconic rage ever looming.

Blood still dripped from his wing and steamed off the beach, the rebar splint barely holding on by the now torn out stitches. The switchblade had separated the healing bones once again and torn a pretty sizable hole in the wing membrane, meaning it would have to be splinted again with an even more invasive method due to the fact his wing membrane was what was holding it together. In all likelihood it would be bound to his side and he’d be forced to be human for weeks, making it heal even slower. He wanted nothing more than to return to his sky, and these people had robbed him of it for just a bit longer.

Deimos waits, head held high, giving the chance for the madness to cease.

It was a common misconception that succubi required...well, physical intimacy to sustain themselves. Or that it had to be with a man. While it was true that the largest boost came through that contact, the reality is that anyone would do. The mere psychic emanations of someone servicing their desires was enough to forestall any loss in a succubus's lifespan. And the more there were at a time, the more potent it was. Alurea could practically feel Eden following her, craving her touch.

Imagine Alurea's surprise when she saw that things behind her started to get violent. At first, she would wave it off as something she didn't need to get involved in. She wasn't a Meta, and she was still in glamour. She wanted to enjoy her day, maybe even get her first experience in with the female sex - among humans, that is.

When a brick struck the back of one of her admirer's heads, he fell over. Deliberate or accidental, one of her humans was just hurt by the rioters. And as much as she could probably de-escalate the situation with her charm magic, she was past the point of caring. Alurea clapped her hands together, then pulled them apart, the resulting demonic energy forming into a whip. The whip's energy then solidified into a leathery texture with a chitinous barb at the end of it.

The actions of doing this caused her glamour to dissipate and her demonic features to stand out once more. Her horns stood prominent, her wings extended from the small of her back, and her chitinous tail swayed behind her.

"Whoever tossed that," she said, her voice low and husky. "It's time for your punishment."

She pulled the whip tight, the sound of the pieces cracking against each other being audible through the entire crowd.

Taliesin  

He took another swing of his beer as all hell broke look, party members turning on their host, as well as Deimos, the two who were most obviously not mere humans. He looked over to Deimos as his wing came out to protect him from the barrage of bricks being thrown haphazardly. Before he could gather his senses, the area suddenly became incredibly hot, as a stream of blazing flame came from Deimos, focused on a poor soul who decided they were gonna get lucky with a switchblade. Seeing the damage they had caused to the dragons wing, compared to the damage that was delivered in kind, Taliesin simply took another swig of his drink. “Guess he learned not to bring a knife to fight a dragon...” He looked around as Deimos let out a deafening roar, asserting his dominance on the fight. “Yeah, that’s right mates, you picked the wrong day for your little anti-meta shit.” He stated, walking up to reinforce his new friends assertion.  

Blue Gyro

"I need to walk some of this liquor off. You don't need to hear from me of all people the dangers after all the times I've already done that. I'll be enjoying the beach a little further down from all the noise."

Caleb didn’t get a chance to make any response, as Eden turned and walked away, he could easily conclude she was heading for the woman from earlier. His body tensed as his mind screamed to chase after her, to be there for her, like she always there for him. She was the reason he came out here, got cleaned up and dressed for the beach. She was the reason he wasn’t constantly holed up in his workshop between missions. Ever since Isaac died, she kept him from slipping into his distractions, making sure he ate, showered, and socialized. And now, as she was barely holding herself together herself, looking for an escape in the arms of some stranger, he couldn’t do a damn thing to help her.  

He could solve any technical problem you put in front of him, fix anything that needed to be fixed, except for the one thing that mattered the most.  

He barely heard Frank make his way to the bar, mentioning something about saving some food for them. “Yeah, will do.” He stated out of instinct, as Frank ran off himself, leaving Caleb alone again. He turned to the drinks available, scanning them until he found a bottle labeled Everclear. Grabbing a tall shot glass, he poured the liquor to the very top, fully intending to not remember a thing. But before he could take the drink, a brick hit the bar, breaking the bottle and glass. Caleb looked over to see some of the party goers had taken up weapons, and were now attack the giant host, and the dragon.  

But they weren’t just hitting the two obvious metahumans, as bricks and bottles came flying from all directions. One even hitting one of the mystery womans men, causing her to reveal her true, more demonic form.  

Calebs first thought was Eden, she had went that way, and was probably caught up in that mess. He dashed towards the group of weapon wielding Anti-Meta members, taking the closest one down with by dragging him headfirst into the ground from behind, finishing him with a kick across the face. He turned in time to see a bat swinging for his face, which he leaned out of it’s path. Unfortunately, this opened him up for the punch across the face from his left, which would twist him around in time for a spartan kick to hit him square in the sternum. He stumbled back into the man with the bat, who held it his throat, holding him in place as another one moved up to him, driving a hard punch into his abdomen, knocking the air from his lungs. They managed to land a few more punches into his body and face before the roar from the dragon on the beach stopped the fight.  

The men threw Caleb to the ground, their attention now on the Dragon and man speaking.  

Agent Blackhawk  

“I’ve seen enough, all agent’s move in, secure the area.”

In a moment, as things settled, black SUVs pulled onto the beach from the road, men in tactical suits and gear filing out of them. They moved quickly, special pistols in hand as they secured the area, subduing the Anti-Meta members. Some moved over to Deimos and the others, creating a perimeter of space between them at the crowd of people. The crowd around Caleb was also subdued, any resistance was met with a special round from their guns, which sent a shock through their body as it hit, sending them to the ground, but not killing them.  

From the army of agents, Blackhawk moved over to Deimos, looking to the man he had just barbequed, to the damaged wing, and then to Deimos himself. If he was afraid, it was hard to tell, even for an empath, as he stood stone-faced. “It goes without saying that the world owes you a debt that could never be repaid...” He stated to him. “And I will say personally, thank you for everything you have done...” He looked back to the tall man who had started the party. “Now for you, sir...” He calmly strolled over to Kade. “Where should we start on the list of public violations and laws broken? perhaps the illegal distribution of alcohol without a license, or maybe you would like to explain the mass amounts of Everclear you have available, which, if you didn’t know, is an illegal substance in the state of California.”

Eden’s pulse quickened as Frank approached, his familiar presence a small comfort against the storm brewing inside her. She knew she wasn’t herself, not really, but the effects of Alurea’s charm were too strong, too intoxicating to shake off completely. As Frank caught up to her, she forced a smile, one that she hoped looked convincing, even though she knew he could see right through it.

“Hey, Frank,” she greeted him, her voice just a touch too bright, too forced. “I’m fine, really. Just needed some air, you know? A walk on the beach to clear my head. No big deal.”

But Frank wasn’t buying it. She could see the concern in his eyes, the way he studied her, like he was trying to figure out what was really going on. It was like he was looking at her like another thing to fix. She didn't need that though, there was bigger problems in the world that needed that from him, but she didn't deserve it. Why couldn't he believe her. Eden feeling the frustration bubbling up, threatening to spill over. She was about to say something—something sharp, something to push him away—when the first sounds of chaos reached them.

Violence had begun.

Eden turned just in time to see bricks flying, fists swinging, and the beach turning into a battlefield. Her heart leaped into her throat, the scenes around her flashing too quickly to process. She wasn’t prepared for this, not again, not after London. The sight of people getting hurt, the rising violence, it was all too much.

Yet despite the chaos, her instincts kicked in. Even under the lingering influence of the charm, Eden was, at her core, someone who couldn’t stand by and do nothing when people were in pain. She moved toward the injured, her steps automatic, driven by years of training and an ingrained need to help. The crowd around her was wary, their gazes filled with suspicion, but she pressed on, reaching out to those who needed aid.

“Let me help,” she said, her voice softer now, pleading. “I’m a healer. I just want to help.”

The injured, bruised and bleeding from the altercations, hesitated, but something in her voice must have convinced them. Slowly, they began to let her closer, allowing her to assess their wounds. She didn’t use her powers yet,  she had to catalogue to herself all their injuries from least to most severe fist. She began sorting through the injuries, mentally prioritizing the smallest injuries first to get those people healthy and out of the way before she would turn her attention to who needed the most urgent care. Treating them would seriously debilitate her once she started to use her powers, two of them alone looked like their injuries would paralyze her for the day once she healed them.

She had just begun healing a man bleeding from his head, evidently suffering from a concussion and feeling a similar wound developing on herself because of the exchange of her powers, when the situation changed. Drastically.

The Dragon’s roar shattered the night, a deafening cry of pain that sent a jolt of terror through Eden’s already fragile nerves. The sight of the dragon unleashing his fury, followed by the brutal flames consuming a man, sent Eden spiraling. The pained expressions, the flames, the sheer power on display, and it's defiant roar, daring the attackers to press on, it was too much like London, too much like the nightmare she had been trying to escape for months. The charred remains that decorated the glassed surface of the beach bore a hole into her mind. The memory of the injured from London clawed their way through that hole.

Her breath hitched, and the world around her began to close in. The sounds of the federal agents arriving, the shouts of the crowd, the reveal of that strange woman's form, even the violence that had reached her friend Caleb; it all faded into the background as she stood there, frozen. Her mind flashed back to that horrible day, the rubble, the screams, the bodies. Isaac smiling at them all reassuringly for one last time.

Her vision blurred, her chest tightening as the panic clawed at her throat. She felt the weight of it pressing down, her thoughts spinning out of control. She wasn’t on the beach anymore; she was back in London, back in that moment of horror and helplessness. The memory of Isaac’s death, of the lives she couldn’t save, flooded her mind, overwhelming her senses.

Eden’s legs trembled as the panic took hold. She wanted to run, to escape, but her body wouldn’t move. She was trapped, her breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps, as if the air had been sucked from her lungs. The world around her spun, and she could feel herself teetering on the edge of collapse, unable to pull herself back from the brink.

She wasn’t a hero, not in this moment. She was just a broken shell of who she used to be, caught in a nightmare that she couldn’t wake up from. The chaos around her was too much, the memories too vivid, the fear too real.

And in that moment, all Eden could do was stand there, paralyzed by the terror of her past, as the world around her descended into chaos.

She didn't even notice the angered man, a shadow stalking through the chaos towards her, with a glare of cold hatred on his face. A knife, tightly grasped in his hand, was concealed to his side as he made a beeline for the meta-human before him that dared to put her filthy hands on one of them.

“I’m fine, really. Just needed some air, you know? A walk on the beach to clear my head. No big deal.”

Frank watched as his friend tried to put on a brave face, assuring him she was fine but even the most fleeting moments of vulnerability on her face might as well have been a lifetime to him as he stopped time. Her strained smile, her posture, the anger and frustration boiling under the surface.

He wondered many times if his power was a curse or not. All the time in the world to think, to examine, to plan, and yet even now, he still didn't know what to say to her at that moment.

Would putting his hand on her in comfort help? What about appealing to her emotions or even standing there and letting her lash out at him as a punching bag? Did he just give her space?

He could spend a hundred hours in the span of a second learning the ins and outs of a book or how to throw a punch but this was beyond him. How does he even begin helping her and the rest of his team when their world is shattered by uncaring gods?

Resolving himself to being the target of Eden's ire he resumed time only for the sounds of fighting and yelling to start.

Eden rushed forward to tend the wounded. Frank was not surprised by this but he considered reaching out and stopping her. Logically, they were not prepared for whatever this was. They had no armor, weapons, or any of their equipment. The optimal choice was to regroup with Caleb and observe from afar but... Heroes can't always make the optimal choice.

Frank followed closely behind Eden as she made her way through the crowd. He slowed time as he observed the situation. It was the partygoers who seemed off to him. Their faces now clearly showed distrust and disgust as Eden began healing the wounded.

Anti-Meta hate group, Frank decided. They came to this party after seeing obviously inhuman people such as the 10-foot giant and the dragon and must have decided they had seen enough. He never understood why people would make hatred their identity.

The dragon's roar was deafening and awesome as Frank felt his bones vibrate. The crazed attacker who thought he could kill a dragon was reduced to a charred skeleton that strangely still seemed all put together with subtle movement. The make an already crazy situation worse, the woman who flirted with Eden spontaneously became a demon of some kind and brandished a whip with malicious intent.

'How the fuck did this go so wrong so fast? Not even a moment ago this was just a party. Weird people sure but now there is a pissed-off dragon, a hate mob, and a demon. This party sucks.' He thought.

He looked back at Eden only for the past to hit him. She stood there, as still as a statue with a look of fear and horror on her face...Just like when she was in London. This was all too much for her. It was too soon for her to be in a situation like this. People screaming, people dying, the noise and chaos. He was about to reach out and grab hold of her when he saw a man with malice in his eyes and a knife in his hand sneaking up on her.

Frank paused time as rage overtook him. Rage at not thinking of how a social outing would make his friend relapse, rage at his inability to find the correct choice, and rage at the man who dared to harm Eden when all she wanted to do was help. Minutes passed as his anger boiled and he ranted and raved inside his mind. He just wanted his friends to have one day where things could be normal. One day where they could go out and not think about London. Slowly his anger died down to a smoldering disappointment.

Resuming time, he stepped into the knife-wielding man's reach, dodging under the wild, untrained stab. He delivered a punch to the man's gut, then grabbed his knife arm and twisted his wrist, forcing him to drop the weapon. With a swift movement, he flipped the man to the ground, landing with a harsh thump. He pinned the man down, pressing his knee firmly into his back to keep him immobilized.

He looked at the rest of the crowd, assessing their threat with nothing but apathy on his face as the beach was swarmed by black SUVs and agents.

The smell of burnt flesh rose to his nostrils. Jordan felt the nausea rise like a tide, threatening to bring lunch and dinner with it out. He also heard the hollow whistling of a man still breathing despite all things conventional saying he should be dead. ”Fuck...” He cursed silently, seeing a man writhe around on the ground before realizing despite all of the pain he could stand. An insect smashed beyond function and yet still working like nothings were wrong. His full attention was on protecting Deimos and yet he couldn’t help feeling that twinge of guilt for what was going on with those people. Even seeing the arm, bones jutting out between rent flesh still moving and articulating as if seconds ago.

He cried out in agony.

They’d caused this, brought it upon themselves but usually death was a pretty clean end. There was nothing clean about all of this. ”Deimos...do you have any kind of major healing magic? I know he tried to hurt you but...that guy is still alive.” He crouched over the burnt man, hovering a finger a few inches above him yet he couldn’t bring himself to touch it. Would that hurt even more than it did now? ”I think he learned his lesson.”

”That poor things still alive? Now that is an interesting state to be in. I never expected to see that power alive here but  here I am.” A voice noted, drawing Jordan’s attention to a woman. Dressed in black, almost like a retro goth kind of aesthetic with skin pale as death.  Black painted lips were curved into an intrigued smirk, also kneeling over the burnt person with a gloved hand prodding into him. Low, pathetic moaning sounds issued from his ruined throat.

”Hey st...” Shadows snaked around Jordan’s body and bound his mouth shut.

”Hey now. I’m not here for you. I’m here answering the small, pathetic prayers of another.” She Almost seemed to cup the ruined jaw of the man, ignoring those around her. ”That child of chaos brings ruin wherever he goes. You were just the unfortunate casualty guided by your own hatred. Let me give that hatred true shape. Yes, with me you will make them all bleed.” Her eyes moved up to Deimos, still amused almost.

”I could kill you now Champion but you’re not mine to slay. “ The burnt corpse was bathed in shadows, washing over and molding to his form before quickly sloughing away. Flesh was restored to pink, healthy skin. Muscle was where there had been nothing more than ruin. A gun was trained on her, one of their non-lethal weapons that brought so many fools down. ”Pull that trigger and you will die.” She noted, helping the man, shrouded in black runic leather armor to his feet. The man gave his warnings, federal agents as they were called in this world. Guards by any other name.

Jordan tried to rise to his feet but more shadows rose to yank him to the ground. The man indeed did fire his gun, and it impacted her in the chest. Her muscles grew rigid, and head flew back as the current went through her body.  She had the feeling it would take even more potent metahumans down. She was more than just potent however. With a head that snapped forward she raised a hand, the air rippling outwards and the man just seemed to disappear.  Him and a section of the beach beneath his feet, as if scooped and thrown away by a large shovel.

”I don’t think that pesky little aura will stop me from doing that.” Her attention turned quickly to the one she had raised. ”Come with me. What comes next will...not discriminate between friend and foe.” She took his hand and began to walk, not seeming to heed those around her. If they desired the same fate as that man it was their business.

--

He had been hoping for a simple beach party. Drinking, loud music and all that came with it. Marcus just wanted anything to get his mind off things he would have rather not dwelled on. He didn’t much think about the ramifications of illegal alcohol, instead was trying to get caught in a fun drinking contest with a dozen of the people who came to enjoy the party. Sure, it was helmed by a ten foot tall man but he assumed that came with being a metahuman. Drink enough everclear and even someone with a tolerance like his would start to feet it, but by then he had managed to outdrink ten people.

They were looking sick, three of them vomiting and his mind had just began to fuzz around the edges.. It reminded him of times that didn’t really take much shape. Despite that getting drunk did nothing more than make him feel empty. The kind of sad that made him want to curl up on the beach and just listen to the waves. With large glass in hand, he noted something was happening.

Bricks were flying.

One careened into his skull and struck home, breaking across his skull and leaving a ringing headache. ”Motherfucker! Who threw that at me? Could kill someone like that.” Marcus barked, rubbing his head which was feeling a little sore from the sudden impact. He rubbed the site and felt no blood, not even a split int the skin.  Okay, nothing really bad here. It took looking around to realize that this was not a simple brawl but a riot even, some people aiming to kill their host with whatever weapons they could bring with them. Like where do you even get bricks at the beach? ”Can’t a guy just enjoy a party in peace.” The tall blonde in his light blue swimming shorts ran across the beach,  noting that someone was about to strike what he assumed was an innocent bystander with a bat.

It came down across his back, hard but not even stinging. The guy had been stuck in a defensive position, arms raised to protect his head. He looked like he could barely be eighteen. ”Gimme a sec.” Marcus turned around to the person smashing him in the face. Now that hurt a little more, rattled his brain around like a pinball. So he returned the favor and gave him a love tap, refurbishing his nose as a fountain of blood and sending the man to the ground.

Unconscious was what Marcus was hoping.

”You should probably get out of here. Looks like people are...going a little too crazy.” The guy was looking at him as if he were crazy but he ran with all the speed his legs could offer him, ducking around bricks flying through the air. Marcus’ eyes scanned the place and eventually fell on familiar people. Caleb, Eden and Frank? He didn’t know they were the partying type. Well Caleb maybe but Frank always struck him as the introspective type.

Their host proceed to crush and break people attacking him, which made him feel like this was going to be a real issue. People quickly seemed like they were dying, especially thanks to the dragon laying on the beach. ”I need to..get Eden out of here.” He’d seen the woman in action long enough to know what she would do to herself if she stayed here.  Dominatrix demons aside,. He quickly moved towards his friends seeing that Caleb was in trouble.

Fuck. He needed to be faster.

Yet suddenly a swarm of suits appeared from what felt like nowhere and seemed to subdue everyone within seconds.  By the time he reached his friends, they were for the most part safe. ”Caleb...are you okay?” Despite having stamina to spare, he was breathless almost wild looking. His attention turned to Frank who had subdued someone, and then the men around them. ”Thanks for the assist...officers?” He smiled, trying to seem friendly in the face of people with their rather intimidating stun guns.

Things felt like they were under control but that was far from true. A strange, sinking feeling hit him followed by a wave of dread he couldn’t place. Like the deepest part of the ocean had suddenly pressed down on his soul. Marcus fell to his knees, feeling a sheen of sweat instantly form on him. As if he were surrounded by death itself, the feral urge to rip his own face apart coming up but being squashed down barely.

Out of the corner of his eyes he caught a figure walking unimpeded as the unconscious rioters began to wriggle and writhe, howling like injured animals and they began to claw at their flesh. Some struck themselves, now fully awake and full of fear that knew no logic. Amongst them walked someone, standing quite short for a human with floral pattern swimming trunks and an unbuttoned hawaiin shirt that revealed a chest with minimal hair. The face however, he couldn’t see any distinctive features within it. It almost felt like his mind were purposefully censoring the person he was looking at.

”Things were starting to get boring. Can’t have the feds swoop in and just subdue everything like they control the matter. So, you’re the        child of chaos are you? I’m here representing a certain patron of mine to have you join us. You can reject it of course but...well I don’t think these innocent people would want you to.” He could see the man motion to the person still around, gnashing and wailing as if they were in the greatest suffering they had ever felt. He also realized some of the agents were suffering the same. Not all but some of them. What the hell was going on here?

Another party ruined and what was worse is he sensed eldritch power, it was so foul that he nearly brought out his sword. The rage boiled inside him and he vomited the last of the everclear near the agent. Just as a show, he opened his mouth and retrieved the sword of dreams which was now in the form of exhailbur." And why will I join your foul god. I curse the gods even now, even that god of humanity, such a god that he can't defend his world." His mood was shit and he turned to the agent briefly and said." Leave, there is corruption here." Snapping his fingers, gateways to his realm appeared over the everclear. What would he do with it? Likely just have it just to have it. Personally he didn't care for it and he needed something sweeter.

"Tell your patron to reveal himself." If one could read Kade’s emotions, they will see nothing but hate and rage and that was the only thing present. No love, no fear, just hate and rage. Though he didn't charge the person, merely held his ground. His mind was much more clearer." Plus what happens if I say no?"

A rush of guilt washes over Deimos as the rage died down.

Somehow this was a fate worse than death, flesh turned to ashe, bones charred and yet still trying to scream with lungs that no longer existed. Typically dragon fire was so hot the back of the skulls tended to burst from the building pressure in one’s brain yet, still this man was ambulatory. His heart broke for Jordan as this was more Deimos’s own fault than Jordans. He could fix this in a moment, he supposed the poor fool would get unlucky enough to survive a full tilt draconic rage. Just as he went to transform the feds were here, his tail lashing as he soon suspected to be the primary target, but was pleasantly surprised when this was not the case.

A pit of sadness formed in his gut as London was mentioned. Yes he’d technically been the ‘hero’ that day, but it still effectively ruined his life. Part of him even felt it somewhat to blame for the events that happened today. If London had gone differently the first time, perhaps there would be no anti-meta schmucks committing suicide by dragon. He gives Blackhawk a light nudge with the tip of his nose in thanks before a wave of darkness comes over the dragon, his shape transforming from a massive beast to a tired young man. He was still in his typical pajamas of grey pants and soft tee, barefeet dug into the sand as the damage to his wing appeared much worse. He extends it to give it a quick inspection before wincing and gritting his teeth as the movement almost burns. Reaching up to pull the last remaining stitch and letting the rebar splint fall to the sand, leaving a massive hole in the membrane where it’d been previously ripped free.

“I’ll fix him. He’s suffered enough. Hopefully these guys can get these fucks out of here. Would you mind taking me back to Dr. Xing?” Dr. Xing was the only veterinarian in town willing to pull a cracked tooth from the mouth of a dragon and splint it’s wing. At this point the man was basically family and he was certain he’d be disappointed to see his work so carelessly ruined.

Deimos kneels to the burnt crisp of a man, about to draw the Empress card which should easily pull this man back together in time, however, he was interrupted by an overwhelming feeling of awful dread. Something was here that was so familiar his heart sank. Scions, and more than one. He stands ready to fight before thinking this through. The beach was crowded, if he fought here the chances of more casualties were significant. Whoever this woman was, she wasn’t currently hurting anyone, but he didn’t know if she would if things went much worse. It seemed her attention, although she did acknowledge him, was not on Deimos but on Cade. Seemed the man was being healed so at least he didn’t need to handle that now.

He went through priorities before drawing a card. The image of a tarot card with a star-swirled dragon, spreading his wings, fizzles into existence before him. Between its horns is the North Star. Deimos’s voice soon projects and to most, the urge to listen to him grows. “Begone from this place. Calmly go home, You do not want to be here anymore.” People who were uninvolved and even a few protestors look at each other, seemingly losing interest in the beach all together. A mass exodus from what was previously pandemonium, leaving only those who truly wished to stay and could not be swayed by Deimos’s sudden persuasiveness caused by The Star card.
With most of the people gone and out of the way for whatever nightmare the scions were sure to bring, the card’s image slips from existence and another falls from the deck. The image of a spire touching the skies and two dragons fighting each other in its shadow, but the image was upside down. The inverted tower card slowly pulls the surrounding area back together. The people Cade had injured found that their injuries were healed and all things returned to the state they had been in 24 hours prior. Beaches no longer bloodstained nor glassy any more.

And the last task, as the inverted tower faded the image of a green dragon, carrying some humans on it’s back appeared in the sky as a shimmering mist surrounding Deimos, Jordan and loosely Talesin. If Talesin insisted upon staying, resistance would allow him to, but Deimos wanted no part of this. He was still injured from his last encounter with Erebus, and the world would not benefit from him killing himself in a fight with another scion. A tactical retreat was necessary. He needed his wing fixed, he needed sleep and he just needed some time.

A few lashes with her whip and Alurea knocked several thrown improvised weapons out of the air. Her magenta eyes were filled with a great anger, and she only struck with her whip the one responsible for harming her human. Looking around her magenta orbs caught the eyes of several humans, her Charm magic flaring up. But for many of the crowd, her efforts proved redundant, as the half-dragon young man did something with several tarot cards, sending a sensation of persuasiveness through Alurea's body.

Still, a creature like her - something known for being a charming tempter of humans - couldn't be told to leave through that alone. The shifting of objects around her caught her off-guard. Time itself may not have been reversing, but every object on this beach that had been affected by it seemed to revert to its original state. The injuries of those around the giant demi-god seemed to heal, and she looked back at her admirer, wondering if he was affected, to. A chill rushed down her spine as several unknown people appeared on the beach.

One woman, dressed like some retro goth, was talking to the demi-god. Another was standing over unconscious rioters, and although his body was perfectly visible, his face was impossible to focus on. As if it were caught in the sun's glare or in a blind spot caused by a cataract or eye disease. When you're almost as old as human civilization itself, you tended to meet new and interesting people. These two, however, were unusual - and not in the way where Alurea was eager to make their acquaintances. They were unusual in a way that felt wrong; malevolent, fickle, bringing chaos to everything they touched.

And the long-lived succubus knew a thing or two about chaos...

Sauntering over to Eden, Alurea touched her, her Charm magic washing over her and potentially allowing Eden to regain her wits in the situation.

"Sweet thing..." she trailed. "We have to go, before things get out of hand."

Taliesin

Taliesin felt their presence before he saw them, first, the woman, who Jordan seemed to know, but was wrapped up in shadows that snaked around his body, covering his mouth, and forcing him to the ground. “Oi, bitch...” Taliesin held a hand out, a flame erupting into his palm as he took a step towards the girl, but something else caught his attention, a presence he was sure he felt before, back in London. His heart sank with dread, knowing he recognized the power, as he felt it coming from Jack, though not at this capacity.  

Fortunately, before the dread overwhelmed the young Wizard, he could feel something pulling him from the beach, looking back to see Deimos had cast a teleportation spell. Taliesin allowed the spell to wash over him, getting away with his new friends.  

Blackhawk

The Agent looked around, seeing that people, including his own men, seemed to be acting irrationally, as if overcome with some extreme fear or mental breakdown. “Okay...” He stated, signaling the Agents he had that seemed to be holding their composure to subdue the ones losing their minds.  

“Begone from this place. Calmly go home, You do not want to be here anymore.”

As the Agents were moving in, the crowd suddenly stopped, as if nothing had happened. They turned and started to leave the area.  

Blackhawk looked over to where the dragon had once stood, now only seeing a young man, holding up what looked like a tarot card. He nodded to him as he signaled his men out, pressing on his comms. “Situation has escalated, send in the Angel.” He stated as he followed his men out.  

Blue Gyro

Caleb slowly climbed to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth as he looked around, the people who had been attacking him were now just leaving. He spit some blood onto the sand in their direction, before turning back to Marcus. “Yeah, I am fine, was just waiting for an opening is all...” He smiled to his team mate, wincing lightly from the bruises from the peoples kicks. “Nothing is broken it seems, just a little bruised up, I am sure Eden will...” His eyes grew wide as he remembered. “Eden!” He quickly spun around, scanning the scene until he spotted her, and his heart immediately sank.  

She was on her knees, completely still, from where he stood, he could see she was in a state of shock, something causing her to completely shut down. But standing over her, reaching down to touch her, was the succubus.  

Caleb moved quickly, clearing the distance between himself and the two of them in a few long strides. “Eden..” He stated as he dropped to one knee on front of her. “Hey, hey...” He stated with a soft voice. “Let’s get out of here.” He stood up, picking her up in his arms as he did. He was thankful for those lessons with Frank, and the days at the gym with Marcus. He didn’t even look at Alurea as he carried her away. “Frank, Marcus, let’s get out of here!” He called out to the others, before heading off the beach with the crowd.  

Seraphim  

Just as the beach was clearing off people, one new figure dropped from the sky, his golden glowing eyes locked quickly onto the remaining participants. “I am only going to say this one time...!” He stated, his voice loud and assertive. “Stand down!”

Eden’s mind swirled, caught between the terror of her memories and the alluring influence of this woman. She felt herself teetering on the edge, her heart pounding as her charm washed over her, tempting her to escape everything, to run away from the chaos and fear. For a brief, desperate moment, she reached out, wanting to take Alurea’s hand and leave, to lose herself in the oblivion of comfort that she offered.

But then Caleb was there.

His voice cut through the fog, a lifeline pulling her out of the spiral. His arms wrapped around her, lifting her effortlessly, and the world shifted back into focus. His presence was grounding, familiar, and she clung to it like a buoy in a storm. But even as he carried her, the lingering pull of the charm tugged at her heart, and she mumbled weakly, "I want to stay with her..."

The words felt foreign, as if they weren’t truly her own, yet she couldn't stop them from slipping out. She felt the ache of confusion mingling with the charm’s influence. But then she saw Caleb’s face—his bruised, battered face—and something inside her snapped.

Eden’s eyes widened, and her focus shifted. She couldn’t let him keep getting hurt. Not him too. Not like Isaac.

“Caleb…” she murmured, her voice gaining strength as her fingers brushed against his chest. Without another thought, she called upon her powers, the familiar tingling sensation flowing through her hands as she concentrated on his injuries.

The cuts and bruises on Caleb’s face and body began to fade, but as they disappeared from him, they reappeared on her. Her skin split, matching the wounds he had sustained, pain flaring through her as she took on his injuries. A bruise bloomed across her cheek, a sharp sting radiated through her chest as if she had been punched, and her breath hitched from the sudden wave of pain.

But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Caleb needed her, and this—this she could do. She could help him, even if it hurt her in the process.

With the last of Caleb’s injuries transferred to her, Eden let out a soft gasp, her body trembling from the effort. But she didn’t regret it. If taking his pain meant he could stay strong, then she would bear it without complaint.

“Hey…” she whispered again, her voice hoarse but resolute. “Thank you… Frank, Marcus, are they alright?” The gratitude in her voice was layered with exhaustion and something deeper, a silent acknowledgment of her teammate and friend.

But as the effects of her powers and the lingering charm from that woman weighed on her, Eden felt her consciousness begin to fade, her mind struggling to stay awake in Caleb’s arms as the world around her grew dim.

The world blurred around her, and she felt herself slipping, the last of her strength keeping her awake. “Just… keep everyone safe…” she whispered, her voice trailing off as her eyelids fluttered, the pull of unconsciousness fighting at her body.

In the face of adversity, with his mind being affected by the mental fear and horror of Erebus and the daunting command to "go home" by Deimos, Frank battled against himself. Even slowly time down did little to halt the mental domination affecting him and triggered a fight or flight response deep inside him.

He watched as the Nyx brutally murdered an agent. Another killing of vile violence in a day that was supposed to be "chill" and "social". Frank didn't understand how this could have happened and was frustrated by it all. His mind was besieged at all sides by beings far greater than him and what was supposed to be a simple and nice outing turned horror show was too much for him and he snapped, seeing only red.

With a hoarse scream, Frank reached into his swimming trunks and threw a pocket full of sand directly into Alurea's face before sucker-punching her to the ground after she dared to touch his friend Eden. He loomed over her as a vein in his forehead pulsed with sheer unadulterated rage.

"Get your fucking hands off her you psycho slut from Hell! I am DONE, DONE! DONE with all the bullshit of today and you will fucking stop!"

Frank screamed in barely contained fury at the succubus. He looked at the various partygoers, agents, and godlike beings around him as he heaved deep breaths.

"This was supposed to be a pleasant time, a nice time!"

He pointed an accusing finger at Kade.

"The flyers said this was supposed to be a nice time where people could forget about their problems, not fighting, not STRUGGLING, and that was all a lie."

His voice shook with emotion.

"How is this supposed to be a good time? I blame you for all of this. How could you have allowed a group that hates you and everything different than them in like this? What happened to a nice day? Why did you allow this to happen and RUIN everything?"

He heaved a shuddered breath.

"You said this was supposed to be a party and to make people happy and does ANYBODY look satisfied here? I don't know what you are or who you are but this is beyond FUCKED and you should feel ashamed of yourself you misleading people into this debauchery. How can you sleep at night when at the first sign of trouble you start brutalizing people, crushing them under your body and tearing them apart? Who the FUCK do you think you are to have this say?"

He slowly looked back at the succubus still on the ground.

"And you!" He pointed another accusing finger.

"I came with my friends hoping to get their minds off of our greatest pain, our deepest regrets and you had to fuck it all up. I don't know what you did to Eden but your devil magic won't work on me! All I wanted was to hang out with my friends and what do I get? A horny slut of a demon weaseling her way into personal drama that she does not belong in! I hope you feel fucking ashamed for whatever you did to Eden, she doesn't deserve anything that happened today and you can all go fuck yourself truly."

Frank kicked another mound of sand at the succubus's face.

"I hope every single one of you gets what you deserve for causing my friends to experience even more TRUAMA than they already have."

With another manic sob of emotion, Frank sprinted away as fast as he could while everyone else was still reeling from what he said.