T - Bee, Xenon - Complete

[carcinoGeneticist]

Almost as soon as the words were out, a brand new pain hit Apocalypse. Like a red-hot poker in his side, pain lanced into his body, in the same area as the spell before had. It sliced through skin and muscle, and the King swore he could even smell burning hair.

But it didn't stop there, it lanced inside of his body, writhing uncomfortably in his softer organs. The Caracal yowled with pain and then went silent, his lungs unable to deal with the sudden demand for air. Randolf used that time to gather his bearings again, spreading his wings wide in preparation for the assault. In his head, he tried to guess the time - how long did he have left? not long, he was almost certain - and figure out his next attack. He threw back his head, letting out a deafening screech - his Jack's ability, a last ditch effort to keep the other man prone.

It was time to end this. Randolf's hand closed into a fist, and he swung it directly at the King's temple.

Pain ability pretty much covered.

Jack's Ability: Once a week, he is capable of emitting a most terrible noise to center in on one target. For fifteen seconds, they will forget who they are and what they were doing, more than enough time to serve as a suitable distraction. After this time, their ears will continue to ring... For ten whole minutes.

[carcinoGeneticist]

Pain. Pain!!. As his nerves cried out in agony, the King tried to force them into silence. It was a spell! Just a damn spell! He knew that some of them could be utterly terrible (his own was among that number), but being on the receiving end of one and unable to breathe was almost too much to take. His stomach lurched and he held his gut, trying to keep the food and alcohol from before down.

this will be over soon you will end this motherfucker and then you will have sex with a beautiful woman keep it together

The mantra went through his head again and again. Biding his time was not working well for the King, who was used to a full-on offensive fighting strategy. His eyes closed against the pain. He could hear his opponent standing, could hear him moving... and then the unthinkable happened.

In hindsight, perhaps it was a good thing. But with his overly large ears and sensitive hearing, the noise slammed into Apocalypse like a train full of bricks, and possibly smaller trains. He pitched forward, landing nose-first on the ground. What the hell was going on?! His head spun. What was he doing on the ground? He hurt, so badly, in his torso and his ears, and... he couldn't breathe. Randolf's fist swung through empty air directly in the place where the Caracal's head had been before and his momentum carried him crashing into the man. They fell, legs and wings and arms and tails lashing, into a pile, with the Canine hybrid coming to rest atop the Feline.

As his vision swam back into focus, his lungs started to work again. Apocalypse could hear his Weapon, in the back of his mind, urgently trying to bring him back into focus. It was working.

"I think I'm going to kill you for that," he said in a rasping voice, suddenly kicking out with his foot, claws extended. There was a satisfying feeling of nails raking through flesh, and the other King let out a short and pained yelp, struggling to get away. This left the albino free.

Slowly, he brought himself to his feet. In his hands, his weapon materialized. He lunged, swinging the scythe in a wide arc.

[carcinoGeneticist]

((Randolf rolled a 15 to dodge, Pale a 19 to hit. What.))

SHIT, the man had a Weapon?! This was... Not something Randolf had anticipated, though he should have at least considered the possibility. He would never try poison on a Heart above the rank of Jack, though he did not have a poison immunity himself, so why had he forgotten to consider a Weapon?

There was no time to think about it. The blade was coming right for him, and he had to move fast. He spread his wings and leapt into the air, flapping hard to rocket as high as possible in as short a time as possible - even still, he felt something impossibly sharp grab into the flesh of his left leg and rip. He yelped again, flapping harder. He knew that some cats were incredible jumpers, and summoned up a small (but, for the time being, rather useful) ability, focusing the rest of his attention on getting some more distance between himself and the terrible Weapon. Normally he only used this one to convince women to remove their clothing, but now it was a welcome thing to have.

Suits, how much was he bleeding? He activated his Pain Resistance ability, letting it wash over him like a comforting blanket. From below, he heard the Caracal yowl his outrage.

Moderate Ability: Twice a week, he has the rather strange ability to make another SD's clothing feel... remarkably heavy. In fact, the faster they try to move, the heavier their clothing seems to become, making running and jumping almost impossible should they decide to bedeck themselves. Slower movements are still possible, though somewhat laborious. This effect lasts either until they decide to rid themselves of the garments, or a half-hour has passed.

[carcinoGeneticist]

"FUCK!" Apocalypse screamed, rage filling every fiber of his being as he tried to jump up to grab at the man as he made his way into the sky. Instead, he was held to the ground by what felt like lead bindings but in reality was only his goddamn pants. He'd always hated the things, and now he only loathed them more.

It was no matter, though. He stared after his opponent and fumbled with the belt, then the buttons and zipper. He watched the man rise higher and higher into the sky, clearly trying to get out of Apocalypse's attacking range. Blood drops rained down, mostly from Randolf's injured leg, and the Caracal felt his mouth twist into a wicked grin. The other King was likely trying to fly away from this whole mess. But who was to say he wasn't going to come back?

Besides, he had a debt to pay to the Court of Hearts. Such disrespect would not be tolerated.

Two spells entered his mind as he cast the pants aside, standing tall in the alleyway. He activated one first - it didn't require a certain distance to come between the two of them, and would bring the arrogant prick close enough for the second to be used.

All of a sudden, Randolf's body froze and an almost orgasmic sensation shot through his mind. He shook with pleasure, wings going stiff. A quiet noise escaped him as his mind tried to process what was happening - his wings weren't working, he was falling, and Suits did it feel good.

Then something else hit him. A blast of lightning. This was much less pleasurable, though his pain ability kept him from feeling the brunt of it. He continued to fall, the erratic shaking of his body making him rotate uncontrollably through the air, spiraling faster and faster towards the ground. He screamed once, trying to force his body to move as instructed, but he couldn't. His limbs refused to obey his mind, the ground hurtling towards him at a frightening rate now.

The last thing to hit Randolf Touges was the ground, and he heard something crunch before he blacked out entirely.

Moderate Ability
Once a week, he is now capable of causing an opponent's body to go rigid. They will still be able to move their limbs and function, but their spine will straighten to its fullest extent. Unless the opponent is a Diamond, this will negate all ability to fly and give the opponent a mind-numbingly pleasurable sensation for a full five seconds. The spell itself lasts for thirty seconds. This spell can be broken by a Spade summoning its familiar, though they may not know to do it.

"Queen's" Ability
Once a week, he is now able to call forth a quick blast of lightning. This blast is enough to cause Cards ranked King and under to fall to their knees and shake, and 8 and under will probably pass out on the spot. Jacks will lose use of their limbs for a full thirty seconds, and Kings will have uncontrollable shaking for a full ten seconds.
Club Queens will be affected in the same way Kings are, all other Queens and Jokers can ignore this spell.

[carcinoGeneticist]

Slowly, the King made his way towards the location the Hybrid had fallen. He went over his options slowly and carefully, considering each in turn.

Perhaps the irritant would be dead. That would be a blessed thing, though he likely didn't need another murder hanging over his head. With the foul mood he'd been in, however, he really wasn't thinking too strongly about the consequences. If the man was still alive... As much as he wanted to see the bastard (and, at this point, anyone else who was not Helena) dead, he would leave him be. After all, a fall like that could not have been kind, and he would not be interrupting them further.

Apocalypse clutched at his own arm, squeezing the place where talons had carved through flesh, bleeding freely. It was painfully obvious against his fur, and he cursed quietly. Hopefully, Helena wouldn't cast him off at this point...

Would you take it if she did? A dark little voice nagged in the back of his head, and the King chucked. No. He wouldn't. Not at this point.

Lightly, he prodded Randolf's side with a foot, noting with satisfaction that the mix moved subconsciously away from the touch. Still breathing. Bad condition, but alive. Tonight, Apocalypse would have the good feelings that came from a night of wild sex and the knowledge that he had not quite killed a man.

Life was good. Slowly, he made his way back towards the bar. The pants would stay where they were for now, he was not in any mood to retrieve them. Besides. Bipeds didn't need pants, did they?

[Nathalia]

((An odd little object rolls out of the defeated Card's hand, as though it was tucked away into the sleeve.

Playing Cards: Huh, a box of playing cards...but how odd...
The cards feature on them the current Court heads on their appropriate
cards...and on the one of the owners' proper rank and Suit...is their
own picture...
Who could have made these?! They look ancient!
When touched, the owner will suddenly have the knowledge implanted
into their mind of what these are and how to use them.
The deck is a voodoo deck, it can be used once a month. In that time,
the owner may select one Card and wish for ONE thing to happen to the
Card who's picture is featured.
Kings, Queens, and Jacks will feature the most prominent members of
the current Courts, but other will change about constantly...except
for the one featuring you...of course...

Odd...
The drink is really going to this Cat's head...he seems almost....well, he seems severely unbalanced at any rate.
Make your way to the fountain at the center...once Apocalypse has had his way with her (whatever that may mean to him at the time...), publicly or no...willingly or no...your next goals will be revealed.))


~Nathalia

[Bee]

Parting had been a regretful necessity, she supposed. The unwelcome King had to be dispatched. She was a little grateful that she didn't have to see exactly what happened--she had a feeling it was going to be nothing pleasant--but she felt a little cheated by the universe that she couldn't have the end result (unimpeded alone time with Apocalypse) without the bothersome means. She ordered a drink but couldn't focus on it. The chasing and interruptions were working up a tension that was just pulling past entertaining and into uncomfortable. She wanted him to come back, and soon.

When he finally did, however--she was watching the door, alert and ready--the sight wasn't quite what she was expecting. He had switched forms and was--bleeding. And looking worse for wear in other, more subtle ways that she couldn't pinpoint. But he had apparently emerged victorious, whatever had happened. The rest could be seen to. She would be happy to see to it.

She demanded the shirt from a nearby biped, who gave it with a stammer and befuddled blush, and ripped it to functional pieces as she sped over.

"Hey," she said, warmly. "Welcome back. I take it you came out on top." She gestured to his arm. The shirt wouldn't do a hell of a lot, but it might quench a bit of the bleeding. It had soaked his fur. "You should let me wrap that. Then we can go and...take care of you properly, if you want." In many senses of the term, hopefully, but she didn't want to injure an injured person further with immediate strenuous activity. So she let it sit as a question, an invitation. "I know a little place."

[carcinoGeneticist]

The Caracal almost felt a pang of guilt for the poor sap who, for a moment, might have assumed the woman was so desperate for him that she'd take his shirt in the middle of a bar. Almost. Mostly he just felt satisfaction. Grim satisfaction at the crumpled heap of possibly-dying man in the back alley, satisfaction at the item he'd obtained from the fellow's own hand tucked safely into his moneybag, and most of all satisfaction at the concerned expression that passed over Helena's face when she saw he was bleeding.

Look what I did just to have you, the dark little voice in the back of his mind crowed, and his fur fluffed in a subconsciously pleased fashion. "We won't be interrupted again," he replied softly, feeling no need to speak any further on the matter. He smiled graciously at her offer, extending the arm and letting her wrap it up without wincing or showing any indication it hurt him at all. It didn't not with the alcohol and adrenaline coursing through his blood.

"That sounds... most agreeable," his voice was soft, an almost feverish light in his eyes. Clearly, he had no intentions of letting a little fight get in the way of the kind of action he'd originally set out to obtain. "Lead the way."

Without the bothersome King following them, the streets were dead silent. They were the only ones for blocks, it seemed, and that ticking impatience only grew in the man. When they neared the fountain, it was too much for him to take. He came up behind Helena, pressing his body against her back and growling lightly into her ear. "It's been a hell of a night. There's no one around. Indulge me in a little something now, won't you, love?" His teeth traced the edge of her ear, his breath hot. One hand crept along her belly, sliding down, lower, there. "We can always call it a warmup for... later...?"

He wouldn't really wait for a proper response this time. There was no real thought involved, no malice, just pure need that had been building all night.

[Bee]

When they stopped short of their destination, she wasn't precisely surprised--the frustration was a little more pleasant when she was stopping to perhaps kiss, or fondle, as opposed to stopping to shake a stalker.

His increasingly fervid intensity, doubtless the fruit of a long night of alcohol and excitement, was palpable, and if they needed to relieve a little bit of it, she certainly wasn't going to complain. The warm press of his body against hers sent a jolt of desire all the way through her, and when he spoke, when he moved his hand--

Well, if she was going to get arrested, she was damn well going to make it worth it.

It was a thorough warm-up, she made sure of that. A complete enactment, actually, of what she had been planning to do once they'd reached a proper bed, and even more--ardent. She stretched with satisfied laziness when they were done. The sound of the fountain was almost soothing, enough to block out the strange silence reigning everywhere else. And fortunately for her, it turned out that Apocalypse doubled as a perfectly functional pillow.

[carcinoGeneticist]

The romp in the street did something to alleviate the odd turn the King's mood had taken, but not by much.

He propped himself up against the side of the fountain, feeling very grateful for the additional warmth provided to him by his coat in bipedal form. Slowly, he drew his hand down along the line of Helena's back, smirk growing slightly every time he manage to elicit any movement - a shiver, pressing forward, anything at all was good in his book. Even with the noise, they were still alone. That was surprising, and a relief. The King did not have the energy to deal with anyone beyond his chosen bedmate tonight.

"Such a very odd night," he said, softly. Half-lidded eyes were swept across the courtyard, searching out any sign of life. But there was nothing. Only the two of them. "We'll have to move again, soon." He said, making no motions that indicated he was planning on standing up. Instead, he just tugged at the shirt wrapped around his arm, tightening it slightly.