Owner	Pose
Alexander Aaron	The snow was melting.     The Winter ebbed. And around the city the ice turned to slush as Spring beckoned. Grey clouds still hung in the air, low over the city's skyline as if promising more chill and snow in the last throes of its fleeting hold on the city. And though it still felt like the season was held, there was a feeling that a change was on the way.     Which had the youth known as Alexander Aaron pleased on some visceral level as he strolled down the sidewalk, backpack slung over the shoulder of that black heavy pea coat he wore during the Winter. The library had closed as it did at midnight, casting him back out into the night, helping him maintain that pantomime of normalcy as he stuck to this routine at times.     Though words that another soul had given him cast doubt on what he did. For he was no mortal. Son of War. God of Fear. Such thoughts wandered through his mind as he set one foot in front of another, hands in the pockets of that coat. A glance back toward the school in reflection gave him the first hint he was not alone.     There was an alcove in one of the storefronts. It had an indentation for the door and on two sides glass windows. It was there he paused to consider the display in that window, the mannequins within silent and unmoving. Though the angle of reflection gave him a moment to consider what was coming.     And after two minutes time there was still naught.     He moved on.
Lucy Blaze	For all that Alexander's pride insists that they call this a 'partnership', Zealot has a job to do. Keeping him alive long enough to complete his task is part of that job. And so she watches him in secret, keeping an eye on him from somewhat afar. This also means that she's tracking the ones tracking him. So far she's spotted four, and long-time battle sense tells her that there's probably another 2-4 more that she hasn't found yet. Which likely means they're ahead of the quartet she's stalking. Moving quickly, quietly, she stays in good position to ambush the ambushers once the trap is sprung. This means using Alex as bait, but somehow she doesn't think he's going to mind that much. It puts a lot on his being able to react quickly and appropriately, after all. Slipping from cover to cover, she trails the group as they all leave the ESU campus, eyeing the heavily populated streets. This is a terrible ambush spot, but there should be a defunct build site a few blocks ahead. A company ran out of money before betting much more than the rough outline of the building put up, and nobody has swooped in to purchase the prime real estate yet. Slipping her phone out, Zealot shoots Alex a quick text: NEED TO MEET, ABANDONED BUILD SITE, 2 BLOCKS NE.
Alexander Aaron	Down upon the street, as Alexander steps away from the alcove, there's a rumble from his inside coat pocket that doesn't stop his walk. Though it slows it ever so slightly. He withdraws the phone as he moves, walking through the halo of light from one of the street lamps, stepping casually around a small group of laughing students who likely were on their way to either the club Red Nation or the beer near there.     The phone is keyed to life with the swipe of one thumb. No change to his facial expression though there's a response that's sent to her with barely a motion on his part. It said simply... AA: K.     Then he was walking again, taking a deep breath, smiling to himself as he took a long inhale of breath as if enjoying the evening at such a normal casual pace. Though his path no longer carried him to the Greenwich apartment that he called his home. But instead the unfinished office site on the way there.     If he was to be bait, at the least he would fill that role well.
Lucy Blaze	Once she has Alex on the move, Zealot is moving ahead to secure the site. Make sure there's not going to be any dumb kids or transients trying to use the site for their own purposes. A good idea, as it turns out, as she finds two pairs of high school couples trying to use it as a makeout spot. Taking a cue from all those slasher flicks, Zealot utilizes blades, shadows, and intimidation to scare the teens off so the site is clear for the coming fight. She makes a round around the site, making sure nothing is unstable or going to fall on their heads without some serious damage. Some lingering plastic sheeting is left in place, some loose rebar is stabbed into the hard ground to get it out of the way. A pile of bricks is eyed but eventually left where it is. With the site secured, Zealot leans against one of the steel reinforced concrete pillars and waits for Alex to show up.
Alexander Aaron	The prepwork is quick and clean, done well as if she had done this sort of thing many times before. Which likely... she had. For some people feel that victory is just a state one acquires by happenstance. Others know that victory goes to those who prepare.     Yet as she sees the youth walking, at this distance a silhouette limned by the street lamp above him, she might also realize that plans do not always survive contact with the enemy.     For she knows where those four are... and might be wondering where the other two may be. When she suddenly has her answer.     It's little more than a blur. Preternatural speed blurring past in a rush. A crimson flash of motion that collides almost instantly with the semi-distant figure. It's barely there to register as movement. To impact. To an abrupt cascade of torn fabric and slashed material that blasts into the air like a round from a confetti cannon as that backpack that was worn is torn asunder nigh unto instantly.     A quick enough impact to whirl Alexander around, the pack released as it did its job to shield him from the first blow.     And suddenly there is the crimson fur and blazing red eyes of one of the lycans, features flashing wild as its nightmare claws are bared, fangs slashing as it /rrroooowls!/ its anger. Only for the remains of the backpack /slam/ into its face.
Lucy Blaze	Zealot doesn't have super speed, it's not part of her line's genetics. But her reaction time is preternaturally fast, so as soon as that flash of red catches her eye, she's on the move, pulling some kunai as she goes and leaping into the air to throw the small blades as a downward angle from over Alex's head. The kunai themselves are a light carbon steel, but the edges have been silvered to give that extra edge against werewolves. It won't kill (well, maybe if she caught one in the eye) but those blades will burn like fire where they sink into fur and flesh. When she lands behind Alex, she grabs him by the back of the shirt and tugs him towards the construction site, "Off the street. We don't need collateral damage." She's pulling her sword even as she ushers him into the site and out of immediate view, blue eyes sweeping all around. "Expect at least five more." Zealot stays facing the red-furred one that attacked. Backing them into the site, she sweeps another glance around to try and spot the rest of the pack.
Alexander Aaron	There's a flash of blood, a cascade of crimson tear drops that spatter to the streets, the kunai slicing over taut furred muscle and flesh, then those droplets blaze into flame from the impact of those silver blades. Enough to make the tall monstrosity reel even as she's rushing forward only for it to return to focus now on the white-haired warrior that dares oppose him.     She grasps at Alexander's coat and draws him back, his body twisting with the motion as he doesn't break stride. Moving toward the construction lot. With her focus on the lycan as it attacks she most likely won't see the Olympian plant a boot on a trash bin next to the wooden fence that surrounds the work site. Won't see him propel himself up and over that fence with a quick step, landing out of view behind the barrier. But she likely will be aware when another lycan joins the fray /crashing/ through the fencing, sending shattered boards into the air as it crackles under the weight and power of the wild beast as it pursues after Phobos.     Behind her if she glances she'll see it rising up to its feet, and some distance into the construction yard Alexander stands with a crimson blade in hand, his stance held and perfect in the form of Waki-gamae as his eyes glow with a silvery fire.
Lucy Blaze	Zealot can feel the rush of air from his leap, hear him when he kicks over the trash bin, ultimately very aware of Alexander's movements and position even if her eyes don't leave the Lycan. That another barrels through into the construction site has her tsking, "You mongrels... don't even have the sense to stay the fuck out of public view." She stays with her Chudan No Kamae stance, blade held out towards the Lycan and slightly to one side, leaving her just a little more mobility for the inevitable attack. Without waiting for the Lycan to attack, Zealot shifts her grip and brings the blade up in a short, swift uppercut motion, meant more to distract and cause the creature to go on the defensive. It gives her the moment she needs to leap up and backwards, flipping herself back intot he contruction site with a taunting, "Come inside if you dare!"
Alexander Aaron	From above one can see the moment arriving. The hurried instant when the conflict will be decided as around the construction lot there is the rush and blur of supernatural creatures hurtling across the distance. Two fall from the rooftops, catching girders and swinging from on high to drop into that muddied field where Zealot has prepared for the battle to be. The one facing Alexander is drawn in, starting to rush toward the Olympian even as the Coda warrior's blade finds purchase in the hide of the monstrosity menacing her.     Another burning slash causes the creature to /howl/ its defiance at her even as its blood catches flame. To roar its utter lack of fear at being discovered. For these creatures rebel against their master tonight, why not rebel against the world!     Two from above, two near and drawn in, leaving the two coming from behind as more fencework shatters, a porta-potty smashed aside as if it were nothing. Creating now a circle of conflict in that construction area.     The hurried creature menacing Alexander charges, rushing across the ground in a loping gait and only bursting with its maddening speed at the end, mud kicked up in the air as it charges.     Only for that crimson blade to slice up. Perfectly timed as Alexander steps /past/ the creature with his own flicker of motion. Which leaves the monster howling as it grasps at its gushing elbow, blood surging forth and burning from where it was sliced by the ancient blade Grasscutter, twin to Godslayer.     A moment later the severed forearm of the beast lands in the mud, then burns.
Lucy Blaze	With the ranks closing in around them, Zealot evens the odds a little, freeing up one hand and tossing another pair of kunai towards the red-furred werewolf. This time aiming right for the eyes, meaning to take him out of the fight completely. She paces backwards as she glances around the circle of werewolves, looking for which one seems most likely to pounce first. Her back up against Alexander's, Zealot murmurs, "Don't let them get between us, keep your back to mine. No running, no withdrawl. We fight until they're dead." Turning her attention back to the wolves, she growls, "Come then, taste death and know your own mortality." It's likely wasted on the werewolves, they seem less talkative in this form, but they should be able to understand. Taking up her stance once more, blade leading as she sets her feet and waits for them to pounce.
Alexander Aaron	There is that flash of bladed silver slicing across the distance as the great maw of the red-furred beast opened while it gathered itself to charge. It wasn't until it was rushing forward that those throwing knives sliced into its flesh, one finding home precisely in the left eye-socket of the creature, the other slashing across the other's iris, causing it to roar with rage as its charge is checked and it stumbled heavily upon one shoulder, paws reaching for its brow as its howl becomes a cry of pain.     Then the defenders come together, blades held before them, backs against each other. Precision and control made manifest as the two strike perfectly complementary stances. The red-furred beast reels and cries, and the darker coated monstrosity tries to staunch the bleeding from its maimed forearm. But the other four circle, each taking a cardinal point, each holding as they square up against their enemies.     Yet there is something to be said to present the image of infallibility. To cast a pall of indomitable strength upon those who challenge you. And as Zealot offers those words she can see the effect they have on them. For even as she stands at the ready, the force of her bearing weighs heavily on the creatures.     One of silvered coat snarls and gestures at the other two nearest it, and as one the beasts hunker down, gather themselves. The two swords rise, one of steel the other of crimson. The moment draws taut...     Then they charge.
Lucy Blaze	When a mud-colored wolf charges at her, Zealot has the sword there to greet it. While not silvered along the edge as the kunai are, it holds a razor's edge honed over thousands of years, slicing gracefully upward to catch the wolf across its muzzle, taking off fur and flesh, flensing it to the bone as she holds her ground against it. A high kick clipping what's left of its jaw to send it flipping ass over teakettle onto the ground. This will let her swing fluidly towards the incoming soot-coated werewolf with a spinning kick that slams the wolf onto the ground and leaves her with her foot on its head. Flicking a glance to the silvered one, she smirks, "You should call for reinforcements, these aren't nearly enough."
Alexander Aaron	The wolves rush, great claws kicking up clods of mud and frost. The lead one, a bare fraction of a second ahead of the other catches that katana perfectly as blood spatters into the air creating an arcing fountain of ichor even as that kick strikes home and send its maw flying across the distance to splatter messily into the fence where it hangs there adhering purely by the gore that remains of its jaw.     And then she's turning, her foot colliding heavily with the other and /slamming/ its head into the ground with her boot pressing down on it, planting the other perfectly in time even as her ocking words cause the one under her boot to struggle and roar, straining against her.     Yet behind her the two that had charged Phobos met a sword stroke that unknowingly mirrored her own, creating a gout of blood as the creature's sternum was sliced in twain causing it to stagger back as its own spout of blood curves to the opposite direction, almost like twin strokes of the same brush upon the grim canvas of the construction yard.     The second wolf, whether it was fear or trepidation, its rush comes a bare second later, leaping as it launches itself into the air, crashing toward the two fighters. Only for it to be caught with a knee /cracking/ hard into the side of its head as the young Olympian rides that knee down to plant the beast hard into the ground.     Leaving the two warriors each with a fallen wolf pinned. A glance given to her, Alexander flips the sword around in his grip and places the blade against the creature's neck.     And if she lets her stroke fall, then the second creature will last not one moment longer.
Lucy Blaze	This is not a woman that lets her enemies live. Her blade flashes in the late afternoon light and the werewolf's head is severed clean from its body. Standing, Zealot swipes the blade in the air, flicking a spatter of blood into the dirt even as she looks around for any that remain standing. Listening for any that might still be hiding out there, and offering a general warning, "For any that are still alive, cowering in the shadows.. run. Tell your master that you -failed-. That we come for him, and that his head will join the others collected here. We will reclaim the girl, and I will personally extract a toll of blood for every hair missing from her head." Sheathing her blade, those cold blue eyes still sweeping the area, "If you are smart, you will return the girl now and leave your master to his fate."
Alexander Aaron	The wounded and mutilated that can still move do not hesitate to do so. The abrupt shift of fortune is recognized on an almost instinctual level for them. And as the head of the lycan is struck from its form, the other scrabbles with wild abandon to get free as Alexander holds it beneath his shin with his own blade hovering above.     A glance is given to her, then he steps back and lets the creature skitter to its feet, rising as it peers wildly at him and the woman beside him.     "Go," The Olympian gestures with the flick of the blade, "Be glad I'm nicer than she is."     Which gains no response from the creature as it snarls, then tucks into a low run as it rushes to get clear of the fallen and the unfortunate battlefield.     Which, at least for now, leaves them there. Shoulder to shoulder amidst the gore and the remains as the sword in his hand slides out of existence with a flicker of silvery flame. Leaving them there for now, at peace.
Lucy Blaze	With the ones left standing scampering off, Zannah turns to Alexander, "I have cleanup incoming, but we should make sure we're not here, just in case." One might think she's suggesting they head out, but no. Without so much as a word of warning, they blink from the construction site to the living room of his apartment. Even his backpack is there, with all its contents, restored back to original condition. Scowling, Zannah shakes her head, "I -hate- doing that. It's like.. opening a door to somewhere that you know is bad for you, but then you step through anyways because nobody has any damn sense these days." Shaking it off, she looks back to Alexander, "You might want to think about alternate forms of transportation for awhile. I doubt they're going to stick to one attempt. If anything, you should expect more of them now that they've tried and failed. If my exceptionally long experience has taught me anything, it's that the enemy always doubles down."
Alexander Aaron	The sudden shift of surroundings has the tall man looking around his apartment with slightly widened eyes, his expression curious with that hint of subdued surprise. Then his attention turns to the woman beside him, head tilting with more open curiousity even as he walks over to take up his restored backpack that absorbed the first swipe of a lycan's claw. Lips pursing briefly he tosses it back on the sofa, smiling to himself that the old standby was restored.     As for the apartment it is spartan in decor, barely a hint of anything connecting the Olympian to the world within. Few choices in decor, no personal effects visible. There is an entertainment center though it seems rarely used. The furniture is utilitarian. Ultimately it speaks to little about whomever lives there.     "I didn't know you could do that." He says sidelong to Zannah, a slight curve touching his lips. Then with a tinge of formality he adds, "Thank you for your help."
Lucy Blaze	"I dislike doing it. Magic is.. a double-edged sword at the best of times." Zealot glances around but doesn't seem overly interested in the apartment. She moves towards one of the windows, looking outside, scanning the area for any possible recon teams, ambushers, or spies. "You're welcome, Alexander." Once she's satisfied that there isn't anyone spying in on them, she turns. "You weren't hurt?" She approaches him, closing the distance swiftly and looking him over, even turning him a little this way and that (gently), to verify for herself that there's no bloodstains on his clothes beyond any splatter from the fight. Once she's satisfied herself, she looks at him, "I don't suppose you've gotten any word on when we can move on the leader? Any recon we can do?"
Alexander Aaron	At first his response was given with a hint of distraction to the words, his eyes slipped to the side toward the window as he considers the overcast night sky. For a brief moment his brow furrowed, then she asked her question of him.     "No, I'm not." His lips part as he takes a breath, about to say something more when she closes the distance with him so quick, the smile appearing after a moment as she lights fingers on him and turns him in one direction, then the other. He even goes so far as to raise his arms slightly as if she wanted to pat him down for whatever reason.     "I'm fine," He finally reaffirms, though there are small dablets of blood here or there but no slices, no tears, and no injuries. "Their coterie has fled as far as can be told. This..." His eyes drift to the window again, shoulders turning as if looking back to where the construction site was beyond the walls of the apartment. His shoulder lightly brushing hers.     Then turning back he's close, close enough that there is a moment shared where his eyes lower then return, then refocus on her eyes.     Silence.     Then he says quietly, "This was a rogue pack." Though something in his eyes seem to whisper that's not what he wished to say.
Lucy Blaze	She does run her hands lightly along his chest and back, his sides, since he's so accommodating. Stepping back, Zannah looks to him, giving a quick nod. With his health no longer in question, she reverts to her poker-faced neutrality but for those cold blue eyes that watch him. Watching as he states that the coterie has fled, her brows draw together, "Then... my contract is ended. If your task is done, then there is nothing more that I need to assist with. I can collect from your father and be on my way." Zannah stares at him for a long moment, the silence stretching out. Finally, when nothing more is said, she gives a nod and turns towards the door, "You will do well, Alexander. Try to keep out of trouble, hm?"
Alexander Aaron	A small smile is drawn from the corner of his mouth, his own pale irises flitting between the cold blues of her own. Slowly he watches in counterpoint, and as she tells him of her obligation being discharged he gives a nod though he very briefly worries the inside of his mouth for just an instant.     She turns toward the door, "Would you?"     Two words given, briefly. Then held. Perhaps just to check that turn. To bring those eyes back to him. To stop that departure even though his manner... he leaves it neutral. As neutral as he can, though there's a hint of silver in his gaze. Just a ghostly touch to that flame that was there in the past.     Then he finishes those words, "Would you like a drink?"     They float there marking the silence between before he adds. "Before you go."
Lucy Blaze	Pausing, Zannah stands in front of the door, then looks back around towards Alexander. Those blue eyes holding a question as she looks at him. One brow lifts, waiting for him to finish his question, patient, curious. Then he does finish it and her brow is lowered. Zannah gives a small nod, turning away from the door and stepping back into the room. "Alright. But.. it won't do anything for either of us. You recognize that, right?" Letting him know that she understands this to be a stalling tactic. Still, Zannah has agreed, and she doesn't go back on her word. With a thought, her armor shifts back to clothing, albeit minus the jacket for now. A sleeveless black shirt, black jeans, black boots. And her sword has disappeard again. She moves back into the room, taking a seat on the sofa, waving a hand to bring forth a bottle of something that looks old. Very old. Two slender yet tall glasses appear as well. Leaning forward, she pours them both a glass full of a golden-yellow liquid that smells strongly of alcohol and fermentation and sweetness. Holding out one of the glasses to him, she states, "Mead. From Norway. From -real- Vikings that pillaged and raided. That was a time to live. Exciting."
Alexander Aaron	The youth exhales a soft breath, smile broadening as he finally takes that large coat off, sliding an arm out of the sleeve, then the other only to leave it hanging near the door. That done he'll follow in her wake, footsteps quiet as he crosses the distance. Pale hazel eyes light upon the bottle and follow the elegant sweep and motion of her filling the glass.     He steps past, moving to settle on the seat next to her, turning to face her with one folded leg on the couch between them. She offers him that glass and he takes it while holding her gaze. A sniff, a taste. Then he lightly touches his glass to hers with a faint clink.     Only for him to down it with a tilt back. She asked him if he knew it would do naught for them, and he answers her even as she speaks about Norway and the Vikings. "They understood that sometimes the joy was had in the doing of a thing, and not the result."     It was for their swords having been drawn. For blood having been spilt. For lives having been taken. For drinks to be shared. And for this moment stolen.     Which is why he uncurls a hand to the side, letting the glass fall upon the carpet. And why in that moment he took her hand and drew her to him. And why he kissed her then.     For though it might end in a blade to his throat. A moment of rage. Sharp words hurled. It was in that small moment he felt joy.
Lucy Blaze	She takes a hefty mouthful on that first swallow, enjoying the sweet burn of it moving across her tongue and down her throat. Maybe she'd been going to regale him with stories of the Vikings and their ways. Of battles fought. Of how she'd been revered as Valkyrie for a time, a battle maiden sweeping in like a wave across a battlefield, cutting a swathe and leading the Vikings to victory. Celebrations that lasted for days. Instead, her glass touches against his, looking to him, and before Zannah can do more than part her lips to respond? He's pulling her into that kiss. She has a decision to make, and it needs to be made quickly. Setting her glass back on the table, Zannah lets his last statement ring true as she draws him in closer and tilts her head to press into the kiss. Letting the moment take her along for the ride with him.