2010-01-15: Gremilins


Nathaniel_icon.jpg Kazhurr_icon.jpg

Summary: Kazhurr has his first Avengers assignment, and Demonathaniel tries to play with his head.

Date: Jan 15, 2010

Log Title Gremilins!

Rating: PG (violence)

NYC - Grand Central Terminal

Grand Central Station is one of the main hubs to get in and out of Manhattan. The main concourse is vast with marble covering the floor and walls. Looking up at the ceiling is looking at a piece of art, mapped out is all the constellations in gold on a blue background. In the center of the main concourse is a circular information booth displaying departure and arrival times of the various trains. Once you leave the Main Concourse there are many expensive shops to be found. There is also a major food court within the Station, where visitors can feast and chat before their train arrives.

What a fine way to make his formal appearance as a Hero, or whatever it is these humans call Warrior-Protectors. Seems like semantic (wham! pfft) mucketying, but the Dakkamite soldier is happy to be doing something CONSTRUCTIVE. Well, if you can call it that. He has two crowbars. Cold iron. (WHAM! Pfft) and he's engaging in an apparently winning battle with a swarm of gremlins which had been doing rude things to trains. He hits them, WHAM! They evaporate, pfft. They don't seem to be hurting him in return.

Since becoming a demon, Nathaniel has been acting distinctly different than usual, so his entrance is much the same. He peeks from the top of the entrance to the station, blinking curious green eyes at the scene only to crawl along the ceiling and ultimately drop down a ways off from the battle with the gremlins. At a little over six feet, with wings to match and a distinctly inhuman look to him, he's definitely not a gremlin - he's also not alone. The young man is followed by a small crowd of confused looking people who look just like that - people, regular, ordinary, uninteresting civilians. A wave of something like giddy anger will flow over Keld, unless he has psychic shielding of some kind, a sudden flood of emotion that seeks to usurp his own.

Keld looks up at the not-gremlin. Not a bad look, rather like a young Phistian, but what would a Phistian be doing on Earth? And those people with him are kind of not making him feel comfort and joy. Something seems to want in past his Starsong, too, but it's not getting past the skin, just a faint emotional sense, giddy anger. Great, a Phistian on Stimbleweed?
"Kasha-kardrak-baladruim," Keld warns, meaning in Phistian, "Stay away from the train. There are vermin."
He lunges, suddenly, flipping a table over and WHAM WHAM pfft pfft, takes out two gremlins which had been doing something entirely wrong with a cash register and some flares.

Nathaniel watches the strange man continue fighting for now, seemingly finding it rather funny really, a light grin on his features that reveals the sharp, sickle-like shapes of his serpentine fangs. He holds out his hand to the nearest person, the youngest of which looks to be about fourteen, and smiles faintly before the strange mob starts to move towards Keld at a strange run. They look mindless and murderous, far angrier than your average citizen.

Mob… OK. THAT is going to piss him off. Lack of tranq darts, already pissing him off. The sadness Nathaniel could feel on him earlier from …whatever it was, is replaced now by some world-class angry, with a hint of Bring On the Pain. Keld - or in costume it should be Khazurr - sees the mob moving, and from the temperature of that glare it's probably a very good thing he doesn't have Flash Vision. He slides the crowbars into the belt, and gets one of those smiles Chuck Norris doesn't give because he's Chuck Norris, and ZANG, he's moved forward and grips the lead mindless mobbie with a (non-vulcan) nerve pinch. One, two, three, unconscious.

Nathaniel doesn't seem interested in entering the fray directly, instead lingering off to one side, watching what happens with a sense of idle curiosity. He hops up lightly to crouch on the back of a bench, his wings stretching out and his tail curling around it to keep him balanced. The people don't seem to have any real idea of what they're doing, the sort of blind rage filling them that causes them to try and stand up even if they're knocked over, the kind of rage you usually have to murder someone to get.

Great. Angry mob. Training said, "When faced with the angry mob, attempt to suppress the leaders first."
"You're not a Phistian, are you? Call off your mob. If one of them is injured because you used them against me, I will hold you responsible."
Yeah, that'll work, Khazurr, this is why the squad GAVE you that name. Honorable Inflicter-of-Vengeance.
He deflects two of the incoming mob with a "gentle" push that merely bowls them past him and sends them sliding along the floor. A third gets hold of him and tries to chew on his arm, mindless ferocity not really doing much.

"I didn't do anything. They're doing it because they want to. I can't control their minds," Nathaniel says whimsically as he plucks at a loose thread on his pants. He can't be older than seventeen at the most, his face still prone to innocent expression despite the demonic features that might attest to something otherwise. He doesn't appear to be overly concerned with the fates of the people who attempt to swarm over Keld, adding to the irritating gremlins who appear to be giving this boy no notice at all. If they seem to see him, they mostly avoid him, perhaps unwilling to go up against something similar to their own kind.

The alien's anger seems to increase at that, but he doesn't seem to be ruled by it - it's like he's been trained to use it to increase his focus.
"Kveikt verkanzve smegtam, that was your only warning."
He starts to move towards the demonling with the lovely wings and the less lovely teeth, not speaking as people are spun, pushed, thrown bodily aside. There may be injuries, but they'd come from the people attacking each other in their rage, or from them breaking a fist or a tooth on his currently invulnerable body. He's almost within arm's reach in an alarmingly short time.
<OOC> Keld says, "Not nice what he called you there."
<OOC> Keld says, "Of course, it's only a deadly insult to another Elect ;)"

Nathaniel doesn't look overly concerned by Keld's oncoming approach, twitching his head to the side as he watches him come towards him. He hops off the bench when the man's within arm's reach, though, flitting neatly into the air and to the entrance of the subway. He folds his arms and leans against the doorframe, while his little minions continue to try to cling and bite at Keld, "What're you so angry about? It's not like I made them throw themselves in front of cars. Despair is a much easier emotion to hold up than anger, you know…" The boy's eyes are flashing, but rather than appear scared or angry, he's grinning brilliantly, as if this were all a game he finds intensely fascinating.

Part of the problem with the minions is that only so many can reach at once, and (while it's not so gentle, and not so concerned with leaving them undamaged) the Dakkamite military fighting style has a defensive stance similar to that of aikijutsu, so there's at best two or three of them able to stay close enough to have an effect. Of course, they can throw debris, which is annoying, but it doesn't actually cause damage. To him. Some of them are getting hurt, which may eventually come back to haunt Demonathaniel, assuming he someday regains a human conscience.
Meanwhile, though, Kazhurr tosses off three of them and SPRINTS, in a leap-and-tackle at nearly 30MPH, at the smirking demonling.

Getting near the stairs was Nathaniel's intention, however, for while the ceiling of the subway offered a certain recourse, being outside of it means full use of his wings - and those wings go closer to 75mph. The teenager flashes a quick, snakelike grin as he leaps backwards only to flick his wings open and slide up out of the stairwell and out of the subway entirely, laughing brightly in the process, "Too slow, old man!"

Kazhurr is not your basic easily-suckered human with a temper. Standard guerilla tactic, lead the enemy into making a mistake, well, even if it's not planned that way, the alien is too good a soldier to turn off the one advantage that has been keeping him untouched by the as-yet-uncalibrated emotional manipulations, as yeah, he could catch up with him, probably, but flying means no invulnerable, and even weak humans throwing enough bottles can hurt a bit.
So he falls back towards the inside, where not-an-angelboy would be forced to come back in if he wanted to keep control of his mob. Which is slowly wearing itself down against him, after all.
<OOC> Keld says, "CAPTAIN RUN-ON!"
<OOC> Nathaniel says, "XD"

While he may not be able to influence him, Nathaniel is picking up on his careful emotions, and a rapid, manic giggling can be heard as he calls down, "There are more up here, you know… and I'm not far from them yet." True. While he may be outside, empathy doesn't pay mind to walls or buildings even, and his range is actually pretty broad. The people that can continue to lurch after Keld while a couple new ones suddenly appear at the top of the stairs, followed by the boy's light, mocking voice, "Come out, come out, wherever you are~"

At all times, said the Warrior King Zaktakh the Fang-Leaper, a soldier's job is to fight the foe until the demands of Honor are met. In the best of battles, the soldier will accept whatever skirmish comes, and boldly triumph through force of superior arms and greater skill. Other times, it is wiser to allow the enemy the illusion of victory, to leave them thinking they have beaten you.
Kazhurr has been open-minded, allowing his emotions to flow freely. He allows himself one moment of utter scorn and disdain, then he fades to a place of logic alone, and (moving again at a speed no normal human runs) he escapes down one of the train tunnels.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License