Monsters On The Run

[Tsubasa & Wen Tien]

Dryad Knotwood wrote

Bright lights flash by moving at speeds far faster than seemed possible for anything but Kami to move at. Was that where I was? Somehow in the divine realms of Amaterasu? How could that have happened? I edge out cautiously before noticing none of the buildings around were in the style of Yamato or even what the divine realms were said to look like. Flat, square, gray buildings made with... Stone?!? No one, but nobles lived buildings of stone and even then those still had some wood in them. Who were these people? I slowly make my way out of my hiding spot no more than a few feet before someone picks me up saying in a soothing manner, "Aaaaw poor fox! How'd you get here? You must scared of all this. Let's get you to an animal shelter. I think you'll find it more to your liking there."

(Yamato is what ancient Japan is refferred to as in myths. E.G. Yamato-no-Takeru)

(Tired of First Person POV, switching to Third)

Startled by being picked up and still unable to understand what she was seeing, Rei quickly shapeshifted from fox form to female human form with a yukata on and started running pell-mell down the street from the human who'd tried to capture her from what she could tell, their startled shouts echoing behind her. As soon as she'd gotten far from where the human had been, she stopped to catch her breath and looked around. It was for sure a human city, but none she'd ever seen from a distance, the only thing she recognized was a temple of those damnable 'Kirishitans' to their Lord. It was horrible, calling your Lord someone nailed to a piece of wood. Rei moved away from the temple wandering around, inspecting the style of clothes of those around her, until she found a park and walked in. Ah, the fresh air there was refreshing to her nose, not much better than that disgusting air outside the park, but still better. Rei found a bench and as it was getting late lay down on it to get some needed sleep.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

This stuff was amazing! He had run out of water, and moved on to the strange colored liquids. He had never before tasted something so sweet, it was great. That was about the time the guard had arrived.

Ammon swung around. What did he say? Something about hands? What was that thing he had? The way it was pointed at him, he'd almost think it was... oh, it must be a weapon. Pretty small, but who knows; could be magic. That flashing light coming from outside certainly wasn't natural.

Ammon raised up his arms, slowly working his wrist. More fluid in it's moment, literally, but still clumsy. He probably still wouldn't be able to pass as ordinary. He wondered what these Romans did to people who stole from their temples? What would they do to someone who couldn't really die?

He thought on this last point.

He spoke, his voice filled with hundreds of years of dirt.

"Nope."

Ammon darted as quickly as he could behind one of the food shelves as two resounding booms bellowed from the guards weapon and two of the brown drinks simply exploded.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

The golem continued its devastating journey across town, leaving overturned cars and smashed streetlights in it's wake. As it entered the heart of the city it noticed one of the buildings. It glowed with so many light, the golem was fascinated. It reached out for the lights grasping for them with its large clammy hands. As it stumbled forward, the high curb along the street's edge caught the oblong mass that served as the golem's toes. The golem tripped and fell forward heavily into the building stone and glass front.

A resound crash echoed down the deserted streets as the front of the building collapsed under the golem's body. The golem struggled to stand, pulling down parts of the ceiling with its flailing fists. It finally managed to pulls itself up with the help of a crushed couch. It stared with ded eyes at the mess it had caused, not sure what to do.

[Philote]

A loud crash echoed through Hypatos' ears and he reached the ground floor of the massive building in which he had awakened. A confused panic had followed him all the way through the many halls as stumbled through the building, leaving statues in his wake. For the most part, he had been able to keep his snakes coiled around his head and covered from sight.

Now, as he exited into the large room that formed the building's exit, Hypatos was greeted by even more chaos. Lights and Humans filled the interior of the building making it the complete opposite of the dark caves he used for hiding. A large creature had burst in through the glass in the wall opposite where Hypatos had appeared. Another non-Human that could possibly help him to survive. The creature appeared to be more confused than he was though, so Hypatos decides to hang back and assist by petrifying any resistance  this new creature might face.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

The golem stared at the strange being that had entered the half crushed lobby. It didn't run and scream like the other humans. The golem pushed through the rubble towards the being with curiosity. It bent over and stared at it.

[Philote]

The creature was a large being made out of stone, much like the statues Hypatos was cursed to create, but very much alive instead of the cold unfeeling statues he was used to facing.

Hypatos took a couple steps back as the creature lumbered towards him, it was much larger than anything Hypatos could deal with easily. Raising his hands slowly, he unravels the cover that was over his snakes and speaks calmly towards the creature.

<Calm down friend. I am a monster much like you. We must find safety before the warriors of this land come to hunt us down.>

(Text in < > is in Egyptian. I'm pretty sure that would be the correct language for a Gorgon)

[Celadon's Penultimate]

(@Phi: Some said the Gorgons lived in Libya, but they descended from beings of the Greek Pantheon. He should probably speak Greek. Unless one parent is Egyptian...)

Alex looked back for a second. Perhaps he should have come quietly, he thought. Him attempting to explain himself seemed only to make things worse. The men looked afraid of him from the get-go, and not only could he understand none of what he said, but nobody seemed to understand him, either. That, combined with his attempt to approach the men, resulted in a hail of bullets that he found most unpleasant.

Though, on the bright side, he found out that bullets did nothing to actually harm him. That was certainly a plus. And, he had gotten rather strong, as evidenced by the ease with which he fended off the men as they attempted to tackle him. There had to be about eight or ten of them!

Alex wasn't quite sure what exactly was going on, but he was leaning toward the notion that he might like it. Now. To find some place where he could hide from the increasingly-more-annoying Catholic officers, who now trailed beside him in their strange transport wagons. Through the crowd he bounded; there was no time to be polite, or pick up people and booths and stands he knocked over. Refuge now, niceness later.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

The guard advanced toward the ruined liquids, weapon ready. Ammom met him from around the corner. The weapon banged once, sending something piercing through Ammons body. But now his hand was on the weapon, and it crushed like a fig in his grip. He grabbed the stunned guard by the throat and hurled him into the busted drink racks, scattering the colored drinks even more. He didn't move from the ever growing puddle, but he looked to still be breathing.

Ammon looked down, and saw the hole in his gut. It stung a little, but it was a deadened sort of sting. He'd have to fix that later. It was at that point that another hole burred through his shoulder. He looked outside to see the other guard, the wet ones partner (stupid Ammon, guards always come in pairs) throw down his weapon and run to the back of his chariot, and draw something out...

Wow! That metal tube was SO much bigger than his other one, and if that wasn't enough he could hear more of those load siren calls. Before the man could get a shot off (one, Ammon was positive, would ruin even his day) Ammon reached out and grabbed to food rack.

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If you were running down the sidewalk toward the scene of Ammon's Felony Theft and Assault, you would see the front window of the shop explode as a shelf came hurtling through it, sending assorted chips and snack cakes flying hither, thither, and yon across the pavement. You would see this shelf collide with the cop car parked outside the shop with enough force to sent is sliding back looking as through it had run into a telephone poll at deadly speed. You would see a rookie cop, fresh out of he academy and first day on the job, fall backwards in abject fear, firing his weapon into the air and knocking himself out on the pavement.

You would see what looked like a very malnourished, dehydrated Arab wrapped in bandages stride awkwardly out through the front door, a case of beer under each arm, looking sheepishly about to see if anyone heard.

Indeed, these were all things witnessed by Alex as he barreled down the street, police motorcade on his heels.

Now let's talk about what Ammon saw.

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Ammon froze as he looked and saw a dozen of those noisy, flashing chariots headed right for him. He also saw, at the head of them, outpacing them, a figure that seemed to be headed right toward him.

The Roman Guardian. And it looked like they kept them fresh. This was the end of the line.

Well screw it. No man could say that Ammon was the sort of man to give up without a fight. He dropped one of the cases and raised the other over his head, crushing it and letting the lifeblood of the day laborer wash over him in a sudsy wave. He threw it down. He could feel the moisture working it's way into his skin, loosening it, healing it. Not a lot, but every little bit helped.

He grabbed the chariot he had destroyed and heaved, tearing a great metal chunk from the side. He let out a soul shuttering moan, and sent the metal bouncing over the pavement at the Roman guardian.

[Philote]

(Alright, he will be speaking in Greek then . Having thought about it now I probably should of already known that.)

A wood seat next to Hypatos shatters mere moments after a thundering bang reaches his ears. Hypatos' eyes are immediately drawn to the source of the noise, a lone human in blue who wielded a metal device that threw thunder much like he would imagine Zeus would.

Stumbling back, Hypatos hides himself on the other side of a desk. He had had no time to find the human's gaze to attempt to petrify him, but had been lucky enough that the human seemed more focused on his Earthy acquaintance while he escaped.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Alex nimbly dodged through the crowd, all down the sidewalk, when suddenly, there came a harsh and heavy blow, seemingly out of nowhere. Without time to even notice the impending harm, let alone to react to it, Alex is bodily slammed backward by a great chunk of what looks like maybe the civilian version of a Catholic transport.

He and the chunk of metal tumble backward a good twenty (20) yards, before Alex collides into a tree, and slumps to the ground. Though strangely, Alex notices, while he feels pain, he can't make out any broken bones. He didn't even lose consciousness from the impact! Something about this place, or maybe about himself, was very different from what he knew...he was certainly not in the Old Country anymore.

Though, at the thought, where he would normally find himself confused and disheartened, he now found himself feeling...pumped. His fear and confusion was fading, little by little, replaced by the realization that, perhaps getting home would just have to wait. He didn't know where he was going, anyhow; and so, if these freaks wanted a fight against him, strangely empowered as he now was...he figured, why not?

And in the instant that decision was made, he slowly began to move again, causing the sound of approaching officers to hesitate and halt. Much to their detriment. Alex had counted on exactly that.

So, with that split instant freed up, Alex dug within himself, and let out what strength he could muster. He thrust himself onto his feet from being nearly supine, and took up the metal scrap as a sort of makeshift shield, just as the officers' numbness subsided and allowed them to draw weapons. A few shots fired off, but would quickly be silenced as Alex grew confident, and turned the shield into a handheld battering ram. And knocking officers aside like ragdolls felt darn good.

So good, in fact, Alex figured now that he would see how good it would feel to knock around the rest of the officers like that. And that he did. Leaping now into the fray with expert boldness, sending street patrons fleeing from his emboldened fury, the police officers had been dispatched of with much greater ease than initially expected. They barely put up a fight, to be honest.

That only left this dusty, bandaged, antique-ish looking fellow, still standing some yards up the street. The Catholic officers had been too busy noticing the metal thing thrown at Alex to notice the chap who had thrown it himself, but he had now gained Alex's full vigilance.

<<HEY! FREAK!>> Alex barked, as he hefted the metal scrap up again, <<YOU DROPPED THIS!>>

Alex spun in a three-quarter turn, metal scrap in hand, and with nearly perfect force at nearly a perfect angle...he let fly.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

As Ammon saw the other guardian obliterate the forces he was supposed to leading, he felt this sinking feeling that he might have been in the wrong here. That feeling diapered when he was hit with his own projectile and thrown back into the chariot. He pulled himself up from the indentation, chunk rolling off of his stomach. No, he decided, this is a guy I have to kill.

He turned to the chariot and ripped off the door,  shoving his arm into it to create a makeshift shield. Then and ripped off whet remained of the bumper, giving the metal bar a few practice swings before nodding approvingly. Then he charged.

Slowly.

It was a slowish sort of charge.

More of a brisk jog, really.

He really needed to find a lake or something.

[Zaleramancer]

Crsh

"Jesus, what's going on down there?"

"Sir it's CSHH I don't even know. This guy must be a junkie or something. He's plowin' through us like we aren't even here. And this other one just- HELL HE JUST RIPPED THE DOOR OFF A CAR! Oh Shit. Shit. Shi-"

"Johnny? Damnit. Send some more people down there now. I want every officer in the city there AT THIS MOMENT. Whattareyoulookingatmefor? MOVE!"

Crsh

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Well, that went only about half as good as expected, Alex thought, as he saw the strange, dusty bloke recover from what he thought would have been a finishing blow. Then again, if he, too, could hurl a hulking piece of metal, Alex mused to himself, perhaps it should have been no surprise that he could take one as well as he could dish one out.

Then again, obviously Alex's own strength had not been obvious to him until just an instant ago. So, perhaps it was just time that he stopped being amazed by the unexpected, and simply expected it, instead. If his hypothesis was correct, he was also a much better fighter than he gave himself credit for.

It was certainly worth a shot, anyhow. And so, Alex backed up a bit, got a good running start, hunched down and gave a surprisingly springy leap, twelve feet into the air. He cocked back a fist, and dove down to meet his new opponent with as much ferocity as growing up in a conservative Protestant family would allow.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

The Guardian launched himself, and Ammon Raised his shield to meet him. The blow indented the wheel, he could vaguely feel it digging into his arm. But he raised up the metal in his hand and swung it in a horizontal ark, hoping the reach made up for his lack of speed.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Knocked aside, Alex found himself surprised at how sturdy his landing was. Yeah, that wasn't so bad. Granted, this antiquated assailant was tough, but he was darn slow. Much slower than those normal-sized fellows Alex had just gotten done thrashing. He chuckled a bit; if these Catholics hadn't figured out how to make something both big and fast by now, then perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to eventually find his way past their defenses, back home from here.

Alex looked behind him and kicked backward with all his might, into the back of the dusty man's knee, in an attempt to make the large man stumble.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Ammon went down. How had he gotten behind him? Okay, screw the weapon. He dropped it and half turned, his free arm locking around the guardians wrist. Using it to pull himself up right into his face, he let go and instead grabbed the mans head.

He squeezed. Fingers that could rend apart stone and steel bore down on his skull.

<"You can tell Anapa when you see him that it was payment for 100...">, he looks around. Yeah, 100 was a good estimate. <100 years of loyal servitude. You'd have done the same, Roman!">

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Alex winces. Naturally, his head does not indent or give way, even from the large man's powerful squeeze. He only struggles a second in the man's grip, and yells emphatically, not caring that he probably wouldn't be understood.

<<LISTEN, you musty, dusty old freak!>> Alex grunted in his native tongue, <<I don't know who you are, and I don't care! Let...me...GO!"

He couldn't think of anything else to do, and so his foot shot out, knocking the large man dead in the groin. Hopefully, he could bring the man to his size for a good headbutt.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Ammon feel's a hit to his groin. It doesn't hurt. He's got this guy right where he....

......It doesn't hurt.
.........It doesn't hurt?
...........It doesn't hurt!

Ammon lets the man go and backs away. He has a haunted, far away look in his eye. He drops down to his knees.

Those priests! Damn them! They must have..... After he was dead, they.... or was it the sand, the dryness?

He hangs his head.

<<Kill me, guardian. I can't go on, bearing this sort of indignity.>>

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Alex looks at the dusty living antique like a father about to scold his boy. Just why in the world was he hanging his head like that? Just what sort of reverse mind game was he attempting to play? Gaining sympathy? Being spared the same fate that had befallen his Catholic comrades?

He thought of just what to do to this terrible, Protestant-hating, son of a so-and-so...and then a thought hit him.

Alex hadn't taken notice to the man's clothes before, but now...it looked nothing like those of the strange Catholic garb he had seen in the previous officers. And now that he'd heard the man's voice, he didn't sound anything like the Catholics, either. Was this man even from here?

Alex put his hand under the dusty man's chin, and met his gaze.

He couldn't understand the man, and knew the man likely couldn't understand him, either, but he would try to make the best of physical gestures and physical contact as possible.

He started in his native Czech, <<DO YOU...WORK FOR...THIS...CATHOLIC STRONGHOLD???>>

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Ammon replied in  pitch perfect Czech, his curiosity peaked. Was this guy not here to kill him

<<"What's a catholic? Some sort of Roman thing?">>