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View character profile for: Brynjolf Keeger (Breaks-The-Line)
View character profile for: Jason Ricks
Memories And Rage
Brynjolf leaned back against the wall as he watched him dig. He found it very interesting in how extremely talented this man was. His thoughts drifted to their first meeting upon a dreary night.
((4 Years Ago))
He grunted as he pulled his way through, claw after claw with a grunt so fierce it would shatter the earth. At least, that is what it felt like when Brynjolf fell out of the tiny rent in the Gauntlet. He landed upon the cold pavement, bloodied and torn clothes. He groaned and groped his left side, feeling the bullet wound. It hurt like a bitch when he was hit, and that was in Crinos...
He gasped for air and curled into a ball of pain. Silver, he thought. Fuck, this hurts!
He groaned as he got up from the cold pavement, fully aware of his blood dripping. It was then he noticed the briskness of the air, the crisp of snow not quite ready to drop. His breath billowed as he looked about. He was in an alley, stray paper here and there. Even as he started to walk forward, he kept aware. The pain was almost too much but he was turning it into Rage. He felt it bubbling beneath, letting him walk a bit sturdier than before. He was unsure if he would pass out or the Rage would consume him, his mind was so numb as he stepped forward towards the mouth to the street, a taxi bypassing with a wet tire upon pavement.
He almost missed it, but it gagged him nevertheless. He was just remembering a certain Gift to resist pain when it wafted across the alleyway. He stopped just shy of ten feet from the way out. Two figures soon walked into view, turning their heads towards him almost instantly. The two looked only briefly at each other before blocking his way.
He thought quickly and hard on his options.
Gun? Fuck, it is empty. Can't use that...
Knife? If they get close- ah, fuck! My side... And right on the side of my-
"Oi, you," spoke one. He was a middle aged man from the sound of it, dressed like an eighties bouncer on his way to the Roadhouse. Brynjolf thought briefly of how much he actually liked that movie, and was about to make a quip when the other one smiled a rather fangy smile.
"Really?" He sighed with pain. " I come all this way just to get assailed by two dead men? "
They didn't like that apparently. The second one was dressed in a hoody and sweats. The fucker was lightning fast too, blinking directly in front of Brynjolf. He slammed him into the wall, making him howl in pain.
"You smell different," this one said. " What are you? "
A window opened above them and a head popped out. Everyone looked up, seeing the human that had probably just heard everything. "Fuck, get the slicker!" Yelled the hoodie guy, Roadhouse bounding upwards with a leap.
The vampire made one mistake: he looked away to yell.
Brynjolf slid his knife clean in, the Fetish finding that precious heart. But unlike a normal knife, this Bowie had a Rage spirit in it. He shoved deep and wretched thoroughly, making the hoodie guy gasp before he fell.
He turned to look upwards, pain forgotten. He shifted to his second form, feeling instantly his side explode into pain. He growled and yelled in pain but locked his eyes on that vampire. With a crouch, Breaks-The-Line leaped with the Spirit of the Fray. They landed upon the window seal, the human falling back onto his bed. Brynjolf and Roadhouse wrestled there for a second before falling backwards, twisting and slamming vampire first.
He wasn't sure how he managed it but his wound never forgave him. The silver burned as he tried to finish him with his claws, too late trying to deliver the final blow as Roadhouse caught him up with a squeeze. He lifted Brynjolf in full Glabro form into the air and squeezed.
"Ah! A Lupine! Boss is going to get slick here soon when I drag you in-"
A sudden computer monitor crashed against his head, barely making it move. But he looked back up at the offending human. "You!" He yelled. He didn't have time to say or do something else as he felt Brynjolf shift.
Let's see how slick you will be as a puddle!
A full Crinos Garou stood for all to see as Brynjolf roared out. He slammed the vampire even as the wound intensified in pain. He grunted as Roadhouse punched him squarely into his chest, slamming the Garou warrior into a brick wall. It dented and blew out bricks behind him as Brynjolf howled in pain. The vampire slammed his wound then, supernatural strength making him almost pass out from the shock.
"DIE!" he roared.
His bite clamped onto his head as he wrestled him onto the ground. He snapped his neck with a twist as he bit down, claws already rending and tearing the leech to pieces-
"So find anything else while at the scene?"
"Yeah, actually," Brynjolf said belatedly, snapped out of his thoughts. He hefted the Day Bringer, impressed by the power Jason said it had. He looked him over, wondering how he managed that? He saw no spiritual focus lying around, and he certainly wasn't a blood sorcerer. Bryn wondered if he was secretly a Mage. Or, for that matter, knew he was a Mage. That night was intense, it could have Awakened him.
He could also be a hedge wizard. They had poultry magic, but damn was it effective at one thing and one thing only.
"Seemed like a ripping alright, and whoever it was seems to move by rooftops. Gouge marks in the walls and such, high up so that the police would never see. Not to mention I think I may have found it while it was stalking prey," he finished with a deadpan look to Jason, flopping on the couch he almost bled to death on four years ago.