(for this RP: viewtopic.php?f=28&t=844959#p21493892)Quinton jumped away as a goth girl with wolf ears and a tail jumped at him. “Wow,” he taunted with a laugh, “could you be more cliché?”
The girl growled and swung her weapon at him with much more speed than a weapon that size should be wielded. “Die mutt,” she snarled disdainfully as she kept him on the defense.
“Hmm, so who of yours did I kill?” he asked, "or are you just the lackey of the revengee?”
“Kill? You killed no one I know. I’m here to wipe one more abomination off the planet.”
“Mmm, I’ll be glad to go if you pay for it.”
“What are you going on about mongrel?”
Quinton decided to stop letting her think she was winning and grabbed the scythe just below the blade, “You paying NASA for the shuttle to take me off planet. I’ve always wanted to go, both of us get what we want.” Fear showed in the werewolf’s face and she tried to pull her weapon away from him but he easily held on. “So I’m guessing you’ve fought many mutts before?” Quinton asked yanking the scythe out of her hands and kicking her in the stomach, sending her gasping to the ground. “They must’ve been giving you the easy ones, the unlucky few that get the bad end of the deal. The ones that are weaker than the purebreds. Well, we’re not all like that, in fact, most of us get stronger.” He raised the blade over her body, “Much stronger . . .”
“Jayna?” Quinton asked as he pulled the scythe out of the dead werewolf girl. The head of a man came flying through the darkening trees past him, followed by a giggle. He chuckled and jogged towards it. “What was that about not letting me get blood on my nice new clothes?” he said with a smirk.
She appeared in front of him, her back facing him, “Don’t worry, it’s only a couple drops. Plus the shirt is black, so no one will ever notice.”
“Yes, but my pants are khaki, and that large red drop is very noticeable.”
“Don’t worry,” she said spinning around and facing him with a grin, “that one drop will--”
She didn’t finish as that one drop suddenly became very many drops and a surprised look spread across her face.
All the breath went out of Quinton as he felt Jayna’s blood dripping down his face. They both looked down to see a serrated sword sticking out of her chest.
But Jayna wouldn’t go down that easy, she transported away from the blade, showing a small man just behind where she’d been standing. The man locked eyes with Quinton, who was frozen in the spot from surprise and from the multitude of thoughts about the sudden loss of his sister flashing through his head.
The man, keeping eye contact with Quinton, flipped the bloody sword around backwards and pulled his arm forward and thrust back, perfect timing for Jayna to reappear just as the sword cut through where there’d been empty space before. She gasped as the edges ripped through chucks of her stomach, shredding through her insides.
The gasp was just enough to release Quinton from his deer in the headlights moment and he lunged forward.
As Quinton moved forward the man in front of him ripped the sword out of Jayna, spraying more blood and chucks of flesh across the two of them, and flipped it back around to aim at Quinton, he had no worries about Jayna any longer.
But the blade didn’t even slow Quinton down as he knocked it aside, not even noticing the gash it left on the back on his arm, and swung the scythe.
The man quite suddenly realized this wasn’t going to be an easy fight. Noticing the scythe was from one of his best fighters, and the mutt before him didn’t even bare a scratch from the fight. He jumped away from Quinton, confused by the expressionless, blood-covered face that advanced towards him. He was kept on the defense, barely blocking and dodging the massive scythe.
He decided to take a chance and, waiting till after Quinton swung, dodged to the his left, then ran at Quinton’s unprotected side, with a taunt that usually made his prey get worked up and make mistakes: “Come on mutt, that’s the best you got.” He swung his blade at the unprotected area just under Quinton’s shoulder, just under his ribs.
Quinton didn’t seem to notice the taunt as he let go of the scythe with one hand and flipped it sideways under his arm so that it came up between the man’s legs and would’ve split him in half but he turned into a puff of black smoke before either blade met its mark.
The smoke moved away and resolidified, the power had obviously taken a toll on him. He was breathing harder but he raised the sword and went after Quinton once more, trying to get on the offensive, but Quinton ripped the sword out of the man’s hands with his telekinesis and threw it far out of reach, then went after him once more with the scythe knowing the man couldn’t keep using his power for much longer.
Quinton continually sliced at the man, keeping him moving backward to dodge the blade. He kept out of it’s way for the most part, but when he couldn’t dodge he was forced to turn into the black smoke, getting weaker each time he used it. He would try and get closer to his sword while in the cloud, but couldn’t keep the form up for long and Quinton was always between him and his weapon. For the first time in his life he feared it wouldn’t be able to win. This mix-breed was like no other he’d ever fought, he realized it was a fatal mistake to kill the half-breed first, she was probably much weaker than this mutt that seemed to have snapped.
Quinton lunged once more, forcing his now slow opponent to turn into a cloud one more time, then, using the man’s own dirty trick against him, he waited till he started to solidify once more and ran at him, slicing the scythe through the half-solid smoke, the man gasped as he felt the slice of a blade for the first time, and the last. He fell to the ground in two pieces as his form took completely solidarity once more. Quinton stood over his fallen opponent, barely breathing any harder than when he’d started.
Quinton stared down at corpse, his mind totally blank, but then there was a small, almost imperceptible groan behind him and quite suddenly the reason he’d killed the man became known again. A horrified look came over his face and he spun around, scanning the ground until he saw her laying there, one hand clutching her stomach, the other her chest. He dropped the scythe and sprinted over to her, dropping to his knees and skidding to her side.
He couldn’t seem to breath as he saw his normally energetic and happy sister gasping for breath and wincing in pain. “Jayna,” he sighed fearfully.
She opened her eyes and smirked at him, “That happened a lot,” she wince and had to catch her breath, “sooner than I thought it would.” Her words were gargled, there was blood in her lungs.
“I’m so sorry,” he pleaded, as he started trying to stop the bleeding, knowing it would do no good.
Jayna grabbed his hand, stopping him and releasing her chest wound, Quinton knew it by itself would be fatal, and he was sure the other was the same, even though he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t believe in fact that she was still alive. “It’s . . . it’s okay . . . Quinton,” Jayna gasped, closing her eyes again in pain.
“No,” Quinton shook his head, “no it’s not, I should’ve--”
“No,” she interrupted him, her voice suddenly getting stronger, “you couldn’t’ve done . . . anything. Do not . . . blame yourself for this. Look at me." Quinton opened his eyes, they were shining from unshed tears. His blue eyes met her normally warm brown or happy purple eyes, but now they were cold and silver. "You couldn't've done anything that would've stopped this from happening."
Quinton nodded, although both of them knew he didn't really believe it, so many different scenarios kept running through his head.
"Mornié utúlié," she said after a moment with a smile and looked expectantly at him. Quinton shook his head, he couldn't finished it, he couldn't believe it. She reached up with the hand on her stomach and smacked him, succeeding only in smearing more blood across his face, "Say it. Mornié utúlié."
Quinton sighed, closing his eyes once more and adding, "Believe and you will find your way."
"Remember that." She closed her eyes and her body went limp.
“Jayna!” Quinton cried out fearfully, gripping her limp hand in one of his and placing the other on the side of her face.
She opened her eyes, “I almost forgot.”
This totally took Quinton by surprise and he wasn’t able to say anything, but he watched her as she slowly brought her knee up and try to reach into the pocket. She winced and sighed, “Can’t . . . get it. . . . Need you to.”
Quinton’s brow furrowed and he reached into the pocket she’d been reaching for and pulled out a small black box.
“Dad . . . Dad told me to give that to you, said . . . it’s been in his family for years. . . . He wanted you to have it.” She sighed and let her leg drop back down to the ground. “I told . . . I . . . told . . . “ she never finished the sentence as she stopped having the strength to hold on and finally drifted away.
Quinton couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and he sobbed as he gripped the lifeless hand in his. His tears falling on her face and washing away some of the blood there.
(this one has entered the story)