Logs:Not A Good Doc
Not A Good Doc
|Characters:||Saul (With Essie as ST)|
|Summary:||Saul investigates some suspicions of Supernatural modifications to some pit fighters and finds a very stubborn spirit and a poor girl possessed.|
|Disclaimers:||Combat log. Lots of grappling.|
It's been a pretty rough month for certain folks in one of New Orleans Underground fight scenes, but the bookies have been loving it. There's been a sudden uptick in former underdogs dominating their matches. Rumors have been flying about steroid usage but that wouldn't be anything new... but having fought one up close and personally recently, Saul can be reasonably sure that whatever the enhancements might be, they're not normal. A little bit of digging reveals that most of these recent winners have all been seeing the same back alley doctor recently. Coincidence or Conspiracy?
Saul usually doesn't mind with this kind of stuff- so what if one or two of his opponents get jacked up full of drugs and steroids before a fight? It only raises the bars for him, and he knows he still can beat 'em to a pulp anytime of the day anyway. But the keyword here is 'one or two', not a whole damned group of them. If this goes on longer and longer, he might as well lose his job or worse. Death is not an uncommon thing in pit fights, and knowing how many rivals he's made in the past couple of years in the underground scene? Yeah, he /knows/ they ain't gonna hold back once they've jacked themselves up full of... whatever enhancements they've been receiving. With something to work on, a simple rumour of a doctor in a back alley somewhere, Saul goes to investigate by himself.
When you have connections enough, it's not hard to find directions to said back alley doctor. It's not like most people know that Saul's own need for unlicensed medical personal is rather limited. It takes a few calls, but eventually he does get an address that leads not to the usual vet clinic or dentist's office or what not, but rather a garage complete with lofted apartment space above it. This definitely isn't the best street in town, but what might you expect in the Seventh Ward? The run-down garage has certainly seen better days and the neon open sign in the window remains firmly unlit. There's a hint of... something, to tickle at the werewolf's spirit senses.
Saul arrives to the street with his muscle car, parking the vehicle aside some meters away from the address, and he rarely comes unprepared. There's an assortment of items in his car, stashed inside the glovebox, just in case he comes to a scene with a need to do some spirit exorcise. He spies on the building from afar at first; the place definitely does not look like your typical medical 'installation' or such, but really, what do you expect from someone labeled a 'back alley doctor'? Gliding out of the car and locking it behind him, his senses pierce through the Gauntlet as he moseys towards the garage. No active spirit activities around him, which is an odd thing that immediately puts the wolf into alert mode. He's had his share of spiritual experience before, and a lack of their presence usually indicates that there's something that's causing them to steer away from the area. And when spirits fear something? It's nothing short of bad news. He makes his way into the garage.
There is definitely something Not Right about the garage, which becomes clear enough as the werewolf sets foot into the place. He is very much not welcome and trip wire springs, unleashing a pellet of little silver ball bearings. There's the smell of old blood about the place, plenty of tools around, but very little motor oil one might expect from a working garage. There's a rustling up in the loft above and a woman's head pokes up over a railing. "Whatever you're selling, I don't want it. Now get!"
The sprung trap catches him off-guard. Saul screams out a terrible howl as those silver balls dig deep into his skin, dotting holes in his clothing as blood oozes out of his wounds. He stumbles aside, arm held up to his face protectively out of reflexes, and the wolf grits his teeth. Hard. Not only from the unwelcome surge of pain that overwhelms his body, but also the Death Rage creeping up into his mind. He closes his eyes as he tries to gain his composure, pushing the rage enough to keep it leashed for now. The voice of a woman puts him into hunting mode as he shifts into Dalu, and rushes up to meet them head-on, though a lot more careful to look for traps now.
There's a bit of a shriek from the young woman as she sees the intruder transform into a seeming monster in front of her eyes. "I SAID I AIN'T INTERESTED. Don't make me find more of those pellets! I got them up here somewhere..." Her voice trembles a bit as she says it. Silver's expensive and it doesn't look like the shop's been doing much business. And to demonstrate she really means business, she fires off the pistol but she doesn't even come CLOSE to hitting the werewolf. The light fixture on the other side of the garage on the other hand? It shatters as the round pierces it.
He's all fur and mean now, growing about a foot taller, muscle-packed and whatnot, and even his hair growing into a spiky dark mane. "Who the FUCK said you can mess with silver, you bitch?!" Saul yells out as he ascends those stairs, unphased as a shot rings out and pops a light nearby. "Where's the little spirit shit?!" He declares, in First Tongue, to indicate to any spirits that's messing with her that this wolf is on the hunt, and he's not messing around. A swipe of his clawed hand finds the woman's handgun, and it fires off, grazing his thigh and ruining more of his pants. He just growls even harder at that.
Up close and personal now, there's the unmistakable scent of spirit lingering about the girl, not fully Claimed, not yet anyways, but the spirit has certainly been working on it. And given the snarling wolf right there in her face, said spirit is going to remain buried deep in the human's chest for the moment, a literal human shield. The girls eyes grow wider as Saul jumps up the stares and tries to claw the gun away. As the gun accidentally goes off, she sees it CAN wound him and so she tries to shoot again, but this time the shot goes wide. "Who the fuck said you could come into my garage?" The voice doesn't quite sound human though, a bit of mechanical humming to it.
His nostrils flare upon the definite scent of a spirit, and his mouth splits into an even wider snarl, like that of a wolf's. Looks like there's gonna be some exorcising done tonight, if he can manage. Another shot goes off that, again, misses its target. Funny that the only one who managed to actually shoot him so far, had been himself. The handgun is finally wrestled out of the woman, and it's tossed away downstairs. "I'm gonna eat your face off tonight, you dumb shit," Saul threatens the spirit in First Tongue once again, spitting and growling as he does.
As Alanis Morrisette might say 'Isn't it IronicJeanie (talk)'! The woman however isn't in any state to appreciate such ironies, especially now that she's empty handed standing in front of a freaking Werewolf, angrily snarling something at her in a language she doesn't understand and so she does what any sane person might do and attempts to run, ducking under the arm that just tossed her gun away and trying to dart down a few stairs. She doesn't make it very far however, the dodging around taking up most of her speed...
A rearing of his hand was threatening to harm her, but then she slips past his arm and flees down the stairs. Her speed is no match to his enhanced reflexes though as he turns and LEAPS down the stairs, dropping a kick onto her back that sends her flying down the rest of the stairs and knocking her down.
The girl might be empty handed, but that doesn't mean she or rather the spirit doesn't have a few tricks up her sleeve. She's knocked down, head probably still a bit spinning from when her head smacked into the wall after the kick, but that just gives the spirit urging her a little bit more room to play. From behind Saul, a tire rises into the air and is hurled towards the werewolf's head, making contact mostly with his shoulder before bouncing off and rolling away.
Saul crouches down on top of her, pinning her with his weight. A random tire flies and bounces violently against his shoulder, the force of it capable of dealing a world of hurt, but he appears completely unphased by it. Not a single reaction. "Who do you think you're messing with, punk? A lowly cub?" The words are growled out in the First Tongue, directed towards the spirit of course. But to get to the spirit, he sadly has to deal with its host first, and the poor young woman has to suffer. A hairy arm is curled around her neck and it tightens, /hard/, choking her to near unconsciousness.
Miracle of miracles, the woman somehow not only manages not to pass out, but manages to push off the werewolf's hands and wiggle her way free. Did she coat herself down in axle grease or something? Or maybe it's just Saul's desire to not hurt the human host. Either way, she mnages to squirm free, but not far.
This girl is strong! But that's most likely the work of the spirit inside her. She manages to squirm her way out of his grasp, and he can feel her enormous strength for someone her size. "No no no, you're not going anywhere, girlie," Saul scolds her, and that arm is applied around her neck again. He's sat on top of her anyway, and he has no intentions to hurt her even more, so he'll just wait it out until she passes out.
The girl is strong and the girl is resilent, however there's only so much strangling that one person can remain conscious for, even with a spirit enhancing her somehow. Maybe the spirit just decides she's a lost cause or maybe her luck runs out, but the girl's struggle slows although he can still feel her breathing faintly under his hands. More importantly however, the spirit seems to be taking this as a very good time to escape, unfettering from her body and appearing in twilight, an engine somehow mashed into an almost anatomically correct shape of a heart, pipes dripping a sluggish red oil.
Flexed muscles begin to relax as the girl slowly relents, losing the will and stamina to keep awake, and Saul compassionate enough to not break her neck right then and there for making his night so goddamn difficult. He still can feel those silver pellets digging into his flesh, and they /fucking burn/. He does know that the urging spirit is to blame though, and the wolf rises up as the spirit unfetters from its unconscious host. Saul grimly stares at it, pointing a clawed finger at its direction. "I will find you for this transgression. And then? I'll fucking /crush/ you in my claws, maggot," he spits and growls those threats, First Tongue and all, balling his claws into a fist to emphasize his words. "This Bone Shadow will get its share of prey."
This Tinkering Devil knows when to cut its loses and run! It's host has failed him, a Bone Shadow very angry and swearing vengeance at him, looks like there's only one thing left for him to do and that is RUN, because he doesn't know for sure if the werewolf has any abilities to let him strike at a spirit in twilight and it really doesn't want to be the one to find out.His job is done, and the spirit knows better than to fuck with a very angry wolf, who was inching closer and closer towards Kuruth during the confrontation. The Death Rage has dissipated, but it's foolish to think that his wrath has faded away. Saul carries the unconscious woman upstairs, to her bedroom where she'll be tucked under her sheets. Perhaps she'll remember this as nothing but a very vivid nightmare? Maybe not, because once she wakes up, she will find her storage room in chaotic disarray, with all of her items and surgical equipments thrashed. It's as if a tornado hit this room specifically. She shouldn't have dabbled in those experiments in the first place.