Walking the streets once again(Open)

The feel of freedom coursed through her very being. She was free, though the reason of her imprisonment was unknown. It mattered little no that she was free, roaming the streets of New York. Weaponless, but she had her boots if things got bad. As if a person could take her in single combat, or even in a group. Her boots clicked lightly against the dark concrete allway. It was a rather quite evening considering it was New York, and she needed to ahve her weapons remade quickly. Otherwise she was just as defenseless as any normal person."So what do I do now? Maybe return home, i'm sure they can supply me with resources." She muttered, sweeping a strand of light brown hair from her eyes. A breeze blew past her, carrying along with it the scent of wild fire. yet there was no fire around. She payed it no mind walking along with a light hum.

As she walked out onto the crowded street, a young man with windswept blonde hair bumped into her. His green eyes bored into her for a second, before he walked off. With a brisk pace as if he had seen a ghost. What was his problem anyway? She shrugged, and continued on, her familty home only about a few blocks down. She felt like she had seen the young man before, maybe it was his emerald green eyes? No she was over thinking this minor detail. Now she needed to get the materials for her weapons, until then she wasn't a proper assassin. her legs acged from the running she did to escape that archer, and hopefully they would not have to meet again. He was not a person she would want to fight now.

Around the curb was her favorite shop, one that helped her familty for decades, and provided her with the proper weapons. Alls he needed was a code word, and they would be hers. The manager had a spare set of her gadgets in a box in the back of the shop. Turning off, she stepped through the door, a bell ring signaling her entrance. With a smirk she approached the register. The cashire, a balding man smiled as she appeared through the door. he knew immidiatly, walking to a door at ther back, and bringing her a metal box of medium size. unlatching it as he showed her the weapons hidden in it. As well as a rather tough leather bag. It was all ready as she wanted."Thank you amháin onóir" She said genuinly, taking the weapons,a nd with a warm smile walked out. First making sure that the retractable blade was slipped into her boot, before she walked outside. Slinging the bag over her shoulder. The Huntress was back.

"Just you wait Elena Marie, i'll be coming." The sentence poured out of her mouth in a whisper that was filled with malice. In the gloom not too far behind her a shadow stirred before attempting to spear her, though it was dodged with a simple twist of her body. Behind her was a young man with deep tanned skin, and black hair. Shadows writhed at his feet, and he smirked.

"Long time no see warrior."

"Malice?" She said almost on instinct, as she took a fighting stance.

Gwharr was up walking the streets of new york like a common man or rather, he was stalking them like an uncommon man. No matter how hard he tried Gwharr had never really managed to pass for a common man. for one thing he was too tall, but it was mostly his proportions that gave him away. He was far more massive than any normal human, looking more like a shaved gorilla than anything else. His scavanged clothing did not make him any less noticable either. He was wearing a pair of baggy, well-worn pants, held up with a rope rather than an ordinary belt, since his feet looking more like a hand than a foot, finding shoes was a nigh-impossiblility. Other than that he wore a sleeveless flanell-shirt and an equally sleeveless unbuttoned overcoat, seemingly "reinforced" with the pelts of various dogs and cats. On his head he was wearing a dark baceball-cap, and scarf, covering the lower part of his face.

The reason for this strange outfit was camoflage whilst hunting for suitable prey to feed his rumbling belly. He did not really have to eat to stay alive, because of his regenerative and energy-absorbing-abilities, and in his mind he knew this, but even though the brain was a mighty usefull contraption it was fairly obvious that the stomach still had the last word. However, his explorations had not quite yielded was he was looking for. He had seen a man, and although he could not put his finger on what it may, there was something about this man that was not "Right". Being gifted with a certain amount of curiosity, he decided to follow the man to see what he was up to. After all the sky was dark enough for him to slip up on the roofs unnoticed and follow the man from there. It was soon rather obvious what it was when you saw him from above. His shadow was not a proper shadow. It shifted and writhed like a ball of snakes. A bad sign if he ever saw one.

Gwharr knew the world was full of mighty people like this these days. It had not been like that back in his day. Back then he had been the only one with powers. He was the mighty one. However, these days everything was different, the shadowy tendrils made him certain that this man was one of the evil ones, just like the walking-dead-man with the twisted body-shifting ability he had fought earlier. That one was a tough cookie indeed.

After about twenty minutes of stalking the dark man seemed to find his goal, a rather insignificant-looking woman, and by the way he approached here there was no question that he was after trouble. Gwharr raised an eyebrow as he saw the pair from his hiding-place on the roof, confident that he was hidden by darkness and shadow. The battle with the dead-man-walking once again resurfaced in his mind. It had started because he interfered to save one of the thinling womenfolk from being crushed with a big truck. He was one the verge of leaping into the fray when he saw that the woman acted in a very unladylike fashion. She didn't cover or scream like an ordinary thinling would, instead she looked ready to fight this villain. Gwharr looked on, seemingly curious about what would happen. . .

What the hell was he doing here, and why now? Did Elena send him here to kill her, and end this little masqurade? Why ever he was here, Malice would not get the satisfaction of killing her here, and now. He would feel the cold of her steel, and fall like anyone who stood against her. The memories ebbed as soon as they came. All she knew was that this man should die. That he would die. No one defeated the perfect hunter, especially not this man. Without a moment of hesitation, she rushed him. malice caught off guard for the briefest of seconds, before his shadows acted. People watched in awe at the fight that broke out. She moved out of the way of trecherous shadows that could have skewered her, drawing in close. Slamming a powerful elbow against malice's face, as he stummbled back with a feral snarl.

This was all too easy for her, fighting this brainless oaf. Her eyes noted the rather large man, as well as his rather rank oder. Though he didn't seem to much of a threat at the time. Right now Malice was the one she would have to deal with. Though her ears caught the sound of someone running extremely fast. Narrowly dodging a blade aimed to maim her."Whats wrong Malice, can't deal with one single human?" A young male taunted, as he whirled his blade in the air threateningly at Huntress. A young woman in a flowing black dress, and with equally black hair stood by him. So this was the force sent to kill her eh? Not as good as she expected for an assassin of her caliber. They would all be dead soon enough.

Gwharr was well aware that the clever thing to do in this situation would be to leave before someone noticed him, but something about the shadowy-tendrilled fellow just rubbed him the wrong way. If he was still in his own time and place, he would have chased him away from his territory faster than you could say "Exoskeleton" Wich ironicly is something of a toungetwister for our primitive hero, thus took quite a few minutes for him to say properly. However, in this day and age it seemed you could not beat people up just because they looked at you the wrong way. Although, strangely enough it seemed that some people could for some reason, but unfortunately he was not one of them.

However, it seemed that the two newcommers that appeared at the scene had no such restrictions placed upon them, as one of them immediately swung at the woman who seemed to barely be able to dodge it. Three against one, then? Hardly fair. Gwharr had no idea of what the woman had done to aggravate the second pair of thinlings, but he assumed that they where working with the first in an ambush, waiting untill she was busy with the shadowtendril-man to catch her off-guard. A Clever trick. Normally Gwharr would opt for not getting involved in someone elses fight, but as previously mentioned something about that shadow-tendril-fellow just rubbed him the wrong way. His intuition told him that fellow deserved to be pummeled into a wet stain on the sidewalk.

However, the tendrils made him an unknown, he had no idea what sort of specialness that fellow had in his possession, so it might be foolish attacking him at once. Better let the girl deal with him, they seemed to have history. She would know his attacks. He would deal with the newcommers, especially the little boy with the pigsticker. He grinned viciously to himself, revealing a set of pearly-white oversized, somewhat uneven teeth. He quietly grabbed a half-empty, double-the-fun dumpster that was conveniently placed next to him in the alley and heaved it over his head, luckily the three opponents seemed to be too focused on the woman to even notice him.

He then decided this was as good a time as any, wether they were unaware of his presence, or simply ignored him, he leapt into the air, flying above the heads of them all. The Sword-vielder was the only one giving him much attention, and so, he decided that he might as well even out the odds a little. He threw the dumpster, with all the power he was able to muster, right down towards the chick with black dress and matching hair.

He did not see if the dumpster was on target, but it hit the ground with enough force to create a rather small crater in the asphalt, the collision powerfull enough to cause several car-alarms to go off nearby. and a great quantity of dust and gravel to fly in all directions.

In the meantime the ape-man himself landed near the sword-wielder, viciously charging at him, roaring like a mad beast, trying to slam him repeatedley with his watermelon-sized fists. The battle is on!

Th warrior took no time reacting to the neanderthal, as he leapt up, Using his oversized shoulder as leverage to flip over him. Followed by an attempt to slam his foot in the oversized mans face with all his might, not one bit worried about his partner. Who had sent a spike out from her left forefinger, slicing the trashcan in half. The bisected pieces falling with a loud thud on the cold ground."Well that was interesting, didn't think you had any allies Theresa." She muttered, as another spike launched from her chest. Aimed to impale her in the face, though it was dodged with ease, as well as the shadow spike aimed at her back. Skimming her her side, though it didn't hurt too much.

"Damn demon!" She spat, pulling her weapons pouch from her her backpack, and strapped it to her thigh, before dodging another barrage of spikes. Pulling a bolt dipped in poison, and throwing at the woman, barely missing. as it thunked into the ground. Yanking the collapsible blade form her boot, the blade came out. In a flash of silver, lashed out at Malices throat, only an inch form it when it was met with a shadow blade. It had only begun.

Gwharr roared as he charged the sword-wielding man, his heart full of confidence and bloodlust. However, he was most dissapointed when the man leaped out of his range, as quickly as a panther, causing his hands to smash through a brick-wall, as if it had been made out of cardboard. He felt a slight tap on his shoulder, as the sword-weilding man had decided to use that as leverage for swinging himself over, landing behind him. The caveman was far too tough to even get his skin scraped from a little mistake like that, but he considered the way that they sword-weilding bugger merely avoided him without even paying attention gravely insulting. He was still roaring as he started to turn around, to face the warrior, planning to smash the sword-wielding warriors into a atoms.

However, The warrior was not merely trying to dodge him without even trying, and as he flew he decided to give the caveman a good old-fashioned kick in the face as a parting-gift. Unfortunately for the warrior, strong as he may be, the strength was nowhere near enough to actually put a dent in the caveman, however, his misfortune did not end there. Due to his continual bellowing, the caveman's open mouth was still open, and as he noticed the foot comming closer, all he had to do was open it slightly further and tilt his head slightly backwards, and chomp down as hard as he could the foot literally opened his mouth. Gwharr hoped that this would be enough to give him a little midnight snack. . .

No matter how the foot-thing went, Gwharr noticed the spikey woman somehow shooting her spikes at his temporary "ally" of sorts, and since the "ally" was dodging, he assumed that said spikes where dangerous to her. Gwharr snarled loudly, this would simply not do. With a quick leap, the caveman had placed himself between the two women, determine to catch any and all of the spikes wit his own body, before they caused his "ally" any injury.

He jerked his foot only a second before it was bitten off, and it was too close for comfort. What the hell was this thing, and did it just try to eat him? Seemed to much like the lesser artificial humans, which was not a good thing at all. Though maybe Elena would be interested in using him for her own twisted designs. For now it was time not to die at his hands. He landed next to Aelea, who was currently trying to kill Theresa, thought he Caveman jumped her here way. Coming close to grabbing them, though they retreated into her body, This was getting all too annoying."What the hell is this thing?" She cursed silently, holding her hand up, as five spike shot out at the beast.

Theresa leapt back, standing behind the caveman. He smelt odd, though she didn't pay too much attention to it."What have I gotten myself into? First these freaks, and now a caveman?" Well it was better than soem days she had been through. Now though it was time to deal with these freak shows, maybe her ring would work?

Gwharr felt a wave of triumph wash over him as he felt his massive jaws bite straight the foot of the man, but unfortunately his moment of joy was short-lived. The sword-wielding excuse for a warrior managed to pull his foot out of gwharrs mouth before he had time to do any serious injury. The fact that the man had to abandon his shoe in the cavemans mouth was a slim comfort indeed. He had been so excited with all the fighting that he had actually missed that he had it in his mouth untill right now. Unfortunately it tasted like old leather impregnated with dust, mud and sweat. Gwhar gave it an experimental chew but then decided to spit it out, since it tasted foul even to him; A man that thought that roasted dog was the finest culinary achievement as of yet, and who could quite enjoy the taste of raw human flesh on certain days. A disgusting shoe if there ever was one.

Gwharr glared the strange woman in the eyes, snarling at her whilst she fired the spikes at him. He was well aware that he had no chance to avoid them anyways, so he might as well not bother. He was too slow and too big a target. However, by steeling himself, he would minimate the pain that he would be feeling. After all, he was not actually afraid of them, after all, he'd had worse without dying, and he knew that whatever pain he would be feeling would be temporary. It can't be said that he liked the prospect of experiencing the pain that usually came when you got pierced by a multitude of sharp objects, though.

As the woman-in-black shot out her spikes, Gwharr closed his eyes tightly groaning in pain as he felt them pierce the skin on his chest and bore their way into his flesh. Luckily his skin was too tough for them to get all that deep, but it hurt nonetheless. With a quick swipe over his torso he had removed them all, and his skin pretty much instantly sealed over the holes left by the spikes, making it look as they had never been there, rendering our hero completely unharmed.

He hadn't noticed that his ally had dived in behind him, and was rather surprised when he heard her mutter something unintelligeble. He had been alive for over twenty millenia and most of the days he had spent in the wild, hunting for his food, thus making him something of an expert at observing things that does not want to be observed. He gave a surprised grunt, but did not really turn his attention from the spike-woman. Instead he rushed at her, she defending herself by using out hero as a pin-cushion. Unfortunately, while the spikes did harm our hero enough to draw blood, they did not actually manage to stop his assault. As approached her he raised his fists and slammed them down against the woman, using enough strength to create a small crater where she stood.

With as much speed as possible he moved, slamming a palm into Aelia's side, as she was puched out of the way of the fist's. Only dodging the attack by a few seconds, though it was mostly luck. This was no ordinary foe, and that meant he would be hard to kill if even that was possible. Theresa had some powerful allies, and that meant they couldn't hope to win, Elena would be pissed. All they had to do was kill Theresa, and run the hell away. The Caveman would be no problem after that. With a huge sigh, The Warrior sped past The Caveman aiming a bladfe at Theresa, though she was all too prepared. Though he didn't expet her counter attack, as a guiding arm gripped his wrist. Forcnign him forward, as the bolt was forced into his stomach, all too quick for him to realize what had happened. Poison was coursing through him already, he would be dead within a matter of moments, no matter what he tried. With a swift kick, she pushed him back, as he layed limp. Soon to be dead."Next to die?" She smirked, making a rude gesture with her hand, waiting for them to attack again, though they were frozen in fear.

Gwharr once again felt triumphant when his fists were about to fall, letting out a triumphant, disturbingly booming giggle as he slammed the ground. However instead smashing the woman into paste, he hit nothing but asphalt. he snarled in rage as he realized the sword-wielder pushed the female out of his way, effectively saving her from being pummelled into a wet stain on the asphalt. He would not stand for this, and was just about to give chase after the swordsman, when he noticed that his temporary ally had dealt with him already, using some sort modern, mechanized bow. Good girl. When the sword-vielding man fell over with a ghastly gargle Gwharr immediately suspected poison. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, especially not if said non-genius had spent several millenia improving his hunting-methods out in the wilds. He wasn't a great fan of poison, though. It was unreliable and sometimes made the meat inedible. He prefferred his fists and big, sharp rocks when it was time to take down prey. Heck, once he had even headbutted a mammoth to death!

It seemed that the terrible trio they were out for the woman's blood, but now his. They seemed to avoid him where they could, barely even bothering with attacking him. He wouldn't stand for such neglect! The audacity! The temerity! It was an affront to his neanderthal stature! It did not take our rather dim-witted hero long to realize he had to try harder. 'Bring out the big guns, so to speak! and he knew he had a way of getting their attention that might just work. . .

He once again turned his attention to the woman with the spikes, deciding to try out his new tactic this time, and thus he quickly grabbed ahold of a rusty van parked along the street and wasting no time, he viciously hurled it at the woman whilst roaring in frustration and anger, immediately leaping after his projectile, trying to catch her unprepared if she managed to dodge the van hurtling towards her

The car came as quick as she could react to it, rolling out a hairsbreath from the large projectile. Though she had even less time to dodge the large neanderthal that threatened to crush her. What the hell was with this guy? It seemed he was hell bent on whatever his goal was, in this case killing her. Though even if he did, it did not matter. As if she would stay dead permanently.

Malice launched a narrage of shadowy tendrils at full speed, thought hey were dodged with a few simple manuvers. That angered him, though she was just amused by it even more. This was just a game to her, considering he couldn't land a hit yet. With a roar of rage he sent out a spike of darkness at her, side stepped as it soared onward. Stabbing into his own ally, though it barely registere in his mind. Well, until it happened."The hell?" She cursed, as blood came like a fount from her mouth, falling to ehr knees, vision weakening.

"Well that was a mess up, wasn't it?" Theresa smirked as Malice cursed, leaping into a nearbye rooftop, running back probably back to Elena. It seemed like she had ended this pointless attempt on her life, for now atleast.

((Assuming Gwharr managed to squash miss spike, if not, give me a hoot and I'll change it post-haste))

Gwharr Laughed madly as he saw the soon to be dead spikey woman, he was already refering too as "miss spike" looking up towards him with the kind of 'deer in the headlights'-view as she froze for the last remaining half-a-second of her life. Gwharr landed at her with such force, that the asphalt beneath the pair cracked and shattered, causing yet another of the small, presumably trademarked craters that was considered a sure, tell-tale sign that he had been involved in a fight according to self-made experts in monstrology and cavemanology. He roared triumphantly as she felt the poor woman crumple and break between him and the asphalt, crushed between the proverbial rock and hard place, if you will.

He quickly rose, looking at her twisted, mangled body, raising his fists, bringing them down on her, again and again, each blow rendering her less and less recognizable as a human being and more and more into a red smear in the middle of the road. With each blow, he felt some of the accumulated rage pour out of him, making him feel better and better. When he figured that the remains of hte woman had endured enough abuse, he rose his bloody fists into the air, beating his bare chest in a primal show of brute strength and triumph. A worhty celebration of a worthy victory over a worthy foe.

He then turned his attention to the woman he had aided, panting heavily, but still managing to give a brief smile. She was apprantly no stranger to violence, and better yet had still managed to hold her own. He would have thought that this would have been a formidable feat for any thinling, and he thought it was even more formiddable of a small, tiny, presumably frail creature like herself.

Even though he was rather immersed in the battle, our hero was first and foremost a hunter, and a good hunter must be alert for eventual competitors that might stalk behind you and make their move to steal your kill when you're tired after a long hunt. This time it was no competitor that caught our heroes attention, but a distant, chiming noise. Police-sirens. Oh, how he loathed it when people interfered like this. He remembered from his earlier encounters with the boys in blue, that they where not all that difficult to deal with, but that there tended to be more and more of them comming in to fighth the more ofthem you dealt with. And when you'd dealt with enough of them, the guys in green would show up, and this was where it would start to get dangerous. The guys in green brought the beasts of iron that blasted you away with their mighty cannons. Besides, if you went at it too long, there was a large chance than one of the many superhumans would decide to interfere, and that was when it would get reeeeaaally ugly. Especially if it was one of the powerfull ones.

Gwharr had no intention of getting involved in something like of that, and decided it was time to opt out. Besides, He and his temporary companion could walk out of this little trap tall and proud. After all, they had killed two of their opponents already. However, they still needed cover, in case the last one decided to follow them. He quickly grabbed ahold of the van again, chucking it towards the shadow-using cretin, not really caring wether he dodged or not. It was all a diversion to buy the pair enough time to get a headstart. He quickly glanced over to Huntress. "To hear blueboys approaching. Run!" He he hissed hurriedly before leaping into the air, grabbing ahold of the fire-escape, climbing upwards with the agility and skill you would normally see in a monkey. The Calamitous Caveman liked climbing. It almost felt more natural to him than walking

It did not take the Caveman more than a few seconds to scale the remainder of the way up to the roof of the twelve-story apartment-building, and when he reached it he looked down at the scene of the fighting, although it was too dark to see anything. His repeated chucking off cars and smashing things with his fists destroyed the few lamps that was already present. He had little doubt that huntress would make it out of there in time if she wanted to. She seemed to be the rescourcefull kind of person.
As he turned and looked in the other direction, he could see the bright red and blue lights of the police-cars reflected on the wet facades of the tall buildings that where located on either side of the narrow street.

He decided to waste no time, and rushed across the roof, effortlessly leaping across the street onto the next building, rushing onwards, leaping over to the next building. It would not take him long to reach a place where he could find an entrance to his underground kingdom. A path to the safety and security he needed so badly in this cruel and confusing world of lights.