A cat's claws and a wolf's fangs (Wally only)

Jeramiah leaned back against his chair, hearing it creak slightly as he put his weight against it. He was sitting in a little cafe by the window, a large storefront style one, watching the people walk by, occasionally glancing at the strange man wearing black gauntlets and sunglasses despite being inside. Leaning forward again, Jeramiah looped his finger into the coffee cup's tiny handles, careful not to break it. He still wasn't entirely used to his enhanced strength and would have to be cautious until he had grown accustomed to its influence. He stared down into the coffee for a few moments before taking a sip, it was still scolding hot but he could taste the bitterness beneath. A lot like me he thought, his mind slowly mulling over how he was comparing himself to a drink.

"Sir, can I get you anything else?"

Jeramiah was jolted out of his musings but gave no indication that he knew she was there, now was the time to focus on controlling his new verbal... tic. He sat still for several more seconds as the waitress shifted about uncomfortably on the edge of his vision. Finally, when it looked as if she was about to leave, he spoke.

"Cream." he said, the whisper that followed his every word more like a voice on the breeze than a tangible sound. The waitress looked startled for a few seconds, as if she had heard it and was trying to pretend she hadn't. She nodded and said "Right away sir" her voice tinged with a barely notable fear. He smiled as took another sip from his coffee. Sighing he set down his cup and looked out onto the people roaming the streets once more, each one a soul, each one a sacrifice. Jeramiah closed his eyes and listened to the sounds echoing back to him, the faded screams of those in the store and even of the homeless mugger had been added to the cacophony that resounded within him every time he closed his eyes. While at first he had hated the sound, it had become like music to his ears. "Seventy-eight people" he said softly, the whisper following his voice chuckling a high pitched laughter like that of a psychotic child. He saw a few people turn his way for a few seconds, before quickly looking away. They obviously feared eye contact with the strange man by the window.

The waitress returned after several minutes of what was most likely dragged out coffee making. "Here you go Sir." she trembled out.

"Thank you." he responded, once again trying to control the whisper. The girl quickly got away from him as he looked back out at the streets. The cafe was near the outer edge of the city and rather private, despite the bustling foot traffic outside. Jeramiah enjoyed privacy, it gave him time to think and to reflect. He saw the sun begin to its descent into the west, casting shadows on the city and turning the window he was sitting by into almost a solid wall of light, his form silhouetted against it.

"Waitress!" he called, barely able to keep the whisper from booming out behind him.

The waitress scurried over, as if afraid that stalling again might invoke his wrath rather than stay it. "Y-yes sir, what can I get for you? Y-your c-check perhaps?" she stuttered out.

"That would be lovely" he replied, finally looking at her. She was about 5'2" and had purple dyed hair. the whisper following him echoed lustful tones at a level so quiet that it was more something felt than something heard. The girl shivered. "I'll be right b-back sir." she said, quickly turning to leave. He barely had time to look away before she had returned.

"Here you g-go" she said, placing the little faux-leather bill case in front of him. She looked as if she was about to turn and run again when Jeramiah cleared his throat and said "You don't need to be so nervous, I don't bite." the whisper was finally under control, its sadistic musings restrained... barely. The girl gave him a nervous smile and stood there for a few seconds as he pulled out his wallet. As Jeramiah closed the case and handed it to her, the girl blurted out "Why do you have those gloves on?"

Jeramiah let out a booming laugh, the whisper actually outmatched by his own voice. "Is that what has you so nervous? I just came from a Renaissance fair and I can't get these gloves off without special tools." It was a lie, but if he wanted to come back here, he got the feeling that it would be easier for him if they weren't deathly afraid of seeing him come through the door.

The girl smiled and walked off with the check. Jeramiah poured the cream into his coffee and downed the bittersweet concoction. He sighed, contented. He took one last look at the street, not really paying attention until he saw it a streak of bright red hair, much like Anu's. What's she doing here? he thought stepping out of the cafe. He decided to follow her, not sure why Anu would be in this part of the city without him. He had told her he was going for a walk. She wouldn't have come looking for him, would she? He followed the woman down the streets into a relatively abandoned area, only a few people walked the streets as the sun began to set. He focused in as the woman turned her head enough to reveal her face. He stared for a few seconds, and, as recognition dawned behind his eyes, so did anger. Jeramiah's face became flush with rage, it was her, it was the bitch who had locked him in that dungeon all those years ago. "YOU!" he yelled, his deep voice penetrating the city sounds, the whisper behind it more like a screech, one filled with hatred and a sort of cheated rage.

The woman's callous disregard and apparent lack of knowledge as to who he was enraged Jeramiah even further, he felt the heat in his face growing, the rage inside him boiling, but in a brief moment of clarity, he realized that he had forgotten how he looked. When she had last seen him he had looked some twenty years older. Removing his sunglasses, he let out a long sigh, the heat in his face reducing slightly as he felt more clear headed. "Ah, I see you don't remember me, I suppose that makes sense. For me it was two hundred or so years in a cell, but for you... for you it was Tuesday."

He said as he cast his right arm out, the clothing covering it shredding apart to reveal the armor below quickly forming along his arm. The effects spread to this torso, the grand ornate cuirass taking the place of the jacket he had been wearing, then his legs, the greaves and boots taking their spot over his dark pants and shoes. When he had finally donned nearly all his armor, he stopped. The only part of him not covered in his Freischutz armor was his head, his dark eyes covered by the sunglasses he was still wearing. Behind those sunglasses, he glared at her, just the very sight of her enraged him. "I don't suppose you'd know me even if you saw me in my old garb, after all, when you last saw my face I was a tad more... weathered."

He chuckled, the whisper following his every word dripped with hatred and an acidic desire for murder. "Oh well, nothing to be done about that." he said smiling, the whisper's tone in stark contrast to his facial expression. "You might not recognize me but my name either but... my name is Jeramiah Trauer. You stole about two hundred years from me... and I intend to take a lot more from you." he said, his voice turning into a yell towards the end as his helmet materialized on his head.

He flung his arms back and unleashed a thick bellowing stream of black smoke from his back and arms. In moments he was being propelled forward by it, appearing as if to soar on great blackened wings.

His focus was singular, his mind sharp.

He had his target and was going to kill her, the one who had taken everything from him. If not for her he would be wealthy, powerful, and happy, but she had ripped that all away from him... for what?

Jeramiah didn't care, all he wanted in that instant was the bitch's head on a platter. He spread his arms, now producing the black smoke in quantities rivaling a factory, preparing to slam them together on both sides of the bitch's skull.

"Die!" he screamed as he was upon her, the black shadow he produced nearly blocking out the setting sun and the whisper behind his voice more a roar now as it echoed his murderous rage nearly one hundred-fold.

He raised his eyebrows at her, slightly confused, though she wouldn't have noticed, what with his helmet being on and all. What did she mean she wasn't the one who did it to him. Her face was exactly the same as the woman who had and the chances that she had an identical granddaughter were exceptionally low. As his smoke covered fists made contact with the woman's shields of radiant light he felt the force reverberating through his bones.
He had hit hard but the shields hadn't broken. Interesting he thought to himself, as he leaped backwards a few feet. He had intended for the attack to kill her so he hadn't thought of a follow up if she blocked. fucking idiot, if this IS the bitch who imprisoned you, then of course she'd have some magic defense or another, his self berating was broken when he looked at the woman again, an orb of light in her hands that quickly changed into something resembling a lance. Before he could move she had fired it at him.

Jeramiah barely had enough time to condense a large mass of black smoke in front of his chest when the thing struck. What he was sure would have been a fatal wound had a significant portion of its power shaved off by his smoke barrier. It pierced through his smoke and very nearly his chest, instead only going in about half an inch. The force of it however, had sent him several feet back.

"You have my apologies for the half hearted start, I was unaware you were still as powerful as ever" He said, feigning that he had fought before, the whisper following his words still roaring and yet his soft voice had managed to dwarf it. It would be a good test to see if he was fighting a truly different person.
"It appears I'm going to have to stop holding back" He yelled as he unleashed several large snakes of smoke at the woman, each one roughly the diameter of a sequoia tree and just as long. Following that he gathered more smoke behind his back and propelled himself forward once more, determined to press the attack, he needed to keep the pressure on in order to prevent her from unleashing another spell.

This time however, he had a follow up plan as his snakes quickly reached their target ahead of him. He didn't have long before he was upon her once more, this time, he brought down one fist, the other hand preparing to hit her with a left hook if she tried to dodge. He looked deep into the woman's eyes from behind his visor, unable to read her emotions, could she truly be a different person from the one who had imprisoned him?

But... she was so similar, identical even. Jeramiah was very much against hurting women, even with his new powers, he found it hard to hear them scream and... where was this blast of conscience coming from all of a sudden? He had happily murdered 78 people, at least 22 of which were female... something was wrong, but he didn't have time to ponder it any longer as his fist came down upon her.

The woman has been so busy with his snakes that she hadn't had enough time or energy to put up a strong enough barrier to stave off his physical assault. Jeramiah sneered as he smashed her down to the ground, his fist radiating with power, the other fist still full of smoke. He hadn't needed it after all. "Are you prepared to die, little girl?" He said, his doubts from before gone, he stood over her, gathering even more power in his left hand until he could barely control it any more. He looked down at her as she thrust her palm at him, barely even registering the ball of light, his old reflexes took over and smacked his smoke enveloped left hand straight into the orb of light, the resulting explosion heavily smothered as well as redirecting some of the force back onto her. He flew backwards through the air, colliding with the ground. Hard. He struggled to stand up, the pain of impact nearly knocking him out, A small crater having formed where he hit.

Parts of his armor had melted or been warped by the blast, but were slowly begin to repair themselves, though the hole where her javelin of light had struck remained. Standing up he looked over to where the bitch had been, hopefully the blast had damaged her as bad as it had him, if not worse. He cracked his neck as he slowly walked -almost limping- over to where the woman had been, slowly but surely gather more of his black smoke around himself, most of condensed around his chest and hands. He didn't want the woman to take advantage of the hole she had made, on that off-chance that she was alive that was.

"Hey! You still alive in there? If you come out quietly I promise to make your death quick" he called, he couldn't see much past the smoke but he was prepared, he had created enough of his smoke to stave off most any blow. Jeramiah gathered more smoke when no response came. He moved to the side several feet to try and get a different angle on the rising smoke cloud. Finally, he sighed and simply sent a large black snake of his own into the fray, hoping to kill what was inside. He was beginning to tire of this battle. He had hoped to take her off guard and finish her, but she was being far too resistant. "Oh well" he said, the whisper echoing a sense of weariness "If she gets up, I'll just have to keep putting her back down."

Jeramiah felt something behind him but it was all too late, the only thing that saved him from that blow was the smoke that was built up inside his armor taking most of the force away. He fell to one knee, the pain immense despite its weakened state.

"I am getting sick and tired of your tricks, you little whore!" Jeramiah growled, the whisper once again rising in volume. Jeramiah turned and fired a weak blast of smoke. He didn't know if he hit her or not but he propelled himself several yards to the side, the smoke billowing from his arm. Jeramiah turned to look at where the blow had come from. She was still there, apparently surprised by his attack, minor though it was.

"I wanted to make you suffer, I wanted you to understand the pain you put me through! I could have had everything if not for you! I would have been rich, I would have power! But you... You locked in a dungeon for more than two centuries and now you have the fucking gall to act like you don't remember!" He shouted, as he built up a mass of smoke, his entire being encased in the rising torrent of black death. The formless mass of smoke kept rising and expanding until it was roughly ten or fifteen yards wide by forty yards high, it's length indiscernible due to it's current blob-like appearance.

Out of the shape, Jeramiah slowly began to appear, his appearance like that of a grim spectre that one encounters in their last moments, the glowing red of his visor amplified by the blackness surrounding him. the mass began changing and shifting around him until it resembled a large wolfish creature, its huge maw opening and dripping black smoke onto the ground like acid as an ear-piercing howl erupted forth. The beast's fangs were massive and its eyes glowed the same red as Jeramiah's visor. He stood between the wolf construct's front legs, only reaching up to about to it's elbows.

"I hope you've made peace with whatever god you worship, because these are the last seconds of your life. I've concentrated enough of my darkness into this beasty that even a glancing blow will be enough to reduce you to nothing but a memory, your very existence wiped from the face of the earth and the afterlife. In short, it will be as if you never existed!" Jeramiah yelled, the roar behind his voice echoing his fury as the wolf lurched forward, rushing Elena at high speed, the creature's sheer mass taking up the entire street, burning away the buildings on its flanks and the ground over which it ran.

The beast leaped up as it grew close, its entire hind area had turned into a snakelike tail, the beast's red eyes focused entirely on Elena, it moved in for the imminent impact that would spread enough black smoke over the area to reduce several miles of the city to nothing but a blackened crater.

Jeramiah's normally expressionless face was split in a wide manic grin as his wolf charged the woman, he was finally about to have his revenge on her for his suffering. He watched in a horrific reverie as his gigantic creation leaped up into the air and crashed down upon her, his smile growing. He began to laugh when the beast struck, the billowing smoke smashing down on to her frail head. For the first time his own voice was dwarfed by the echo, it's joy at such a powerful soul being sent to hell was immense, nearly as immense as its joy over four hundred years prior when just over one hundred thousand had been cast down for the sake of one man's vanity and fear of joining them. The echo's laughter grew louder and louder until it permeated the very air itself and seemed to hang there on the wind. This continued up until a large flash appeared where the woman had once been. It was coming from an orb of light, a small, barely discernible human shape within it.
The shape let out a scream that was dwarfed only by sound of the scream the echo made, its cheated rage drowning out even the sound of the man's own thoughts. The orb containing the shape exploded outwards, annihilating the wolf and a significant portion of the street. Jeramiah, even behind his visor, was forced to shield his eyes. when the light dissipated, he removed his gloved hand and looked at where it originated. In the crater there stood a panting girl, her hair that same fiery red, but now its luster had faded and she seemed incredibly battered.

"How much does it take to kill you?!" Jeramiah shouted, his rage nearly rivaling that of the echo's. He had used up so much energy on the wolf that he could barely manifest the smoke. But manifest he did. His hand swirled with the magical blackness as he slid down the crater over to where the woman was. She appeared to barely be standing, parts of her skin were seared and blackened. So his attack hadn't failed completely, it had just been dampened. He stood over her, his impressive height magnified by her position.

"Guten Nacht" he said, nearly whispering. Jeramiah smiled only slightly as he brought his fist down, ready to finally smite the one who had made him suffer so.