entrancelogs | the party don't start til...

[of course she wasn't invited to the party no one invites a Sister to a party, Big or Small, they just arrived if they had to do their job there

That wasn't the point.

So no, she wouldn't watch it. Instead, she shrieks in frustration and lunges forward again, this time slashing her needle across instead of just stabbing. A wider area at the cost of a shallower wound. But sends a clearer message.]

[She's not sure why she wasn't expecting to have to guard herself, but the fact of the matter is she wasn't, which makes it all too easy to be slashed right across her midsection. It's not deep at all, but it's definitely enough to be felt and freak her out. Also more than enough to draw blood, which is the part that concerns her.

Of course, Clara refuses to show it entirely when she actually is scared, so she just places both hands across her stomach and prays the bleeding isn't too bad as she continues shuffling back and away. Her wide eyes betray her, though, and she looks very much like a small girl attempting to reason with a giant. Which very much is what is going on here right now.]

I'm not trying to hurt you! Put that thing down, yeah? Please.

Edited 2013-09-17 00:11 (UTC)

[Well of course you're not trying to hurt her! Because you couldn't hurt her! And she's clearly the one hurting you.

Surface people just don't make sense.

She scored a hit! Not enough to get a taste, but she doesn't smell ADAM and that's not the point of her visit either. Under the helmet, she's smiling triumphantly, but as that's a silent activity so no one on the outside has any idea how pleased she finally is.

This surface person is scared. Now she's injured too. But she still keeps on talking?

It's tempting to try and skewer her right now, but even if she's not spliced up and smelling like ADAM, she's small and annoying.

She stands her ground and shoves forward with her mind, sending a wave of force to knock the annoying little girl down to the sand. And maybe send her a little ways back, too - she wasn't really being careful about the details, and it was still the same amount of satisfying.]

Edited 2013-09-17 00:57 (UTC)

[Oh. Apparently there's more to this giant murder machine than she first assumed. Clara easily goes flying for a bit and lands on her backside in the sand, the wind knocked right out of her. She stares up at the sky, slowly moving to sit up. She's dazed, her entire midsection throbbing in protest and pain.

She's a little out of it right now, feel free to take full advantage of that opportunity.

She really thinks this would be a lot easier with a large space blaster or a mace or something. ]

[She will, in fact, take that opportunity. Thank you!

She runs forward, spear armed, target clear.]

[If anyone wanted to intervene, now might be a really good time.]

[ He's drifted in and out of conversations for most of the evening. It got easier when the sun went down. Talking with Clara again was nice. He had missed her. Things had been a little shaky since the incident with him starving. They were past it though. He could joke about it. Be a lot more comfortable around her honestly.

His interest is peeked when he smells it. Blood. It hits the air hard and he has to focus on keeping his composure. Every instinct in his body is telling him to find the source and drain it, but he can't. It could be a human hurt. He didn't want to drink from humans anymore. He was trying to eliminate that. He'd find them and he'd help.

It's not hard to find the giant thing terrorizing Clara. It's not hard to lift the log he was sitting on and move forward. Once he's close he swings the log at the thing and lets go of it. His fangs are already out at this point. ]

[She's too focused - she sees the thing moving towards her too late. She tries to catch it anyway, but while she can broadly shove little people around, catching requires more precision than she ha--

WHMUMPH

-- Big Sisters are tough, but an entire log is enough to knock her backwards, down to the sand.

For the first time in her memory, she needs a moment to catch her breath. And when the moment passes, she uses that breath to really SCREAM.

She pushes the log off of her easily enough, but it rises with her as she gets to her feet. It's held in front of her with telekinesis - and she's tired, and she's still worn from easier, and it hurts in her brain to hold it aloft, but it's a bad man in front of her and she will never let a bad man kill her ~~again~~.

With another, shorter screech, she shoots the log back at the bad man, and follows it, needled raised to get him whether he gets back up or goes to sleep.]

[ Benny's gone toe to toe with powerful people. Most of them all currently still located in Purgatory where Benny should really be. He should be down there rotting, but instead he's up here fighting a weird looking thing on the beach. He's almost certain he's never seen this thing before, but he has sorta had his head in the sand due to the hunger. It keeps him safe.

He didn't expect her to go down and stay down honestly. He expected a fight and she was gonna get one. She could push Clara around cause she was fragile and human. Benny is neither of those things. She could drive that thing into his body and he wouldn't die. She'd need something else to take his kind out.

Oh fuck. He did not expect for the log to come hurling back at him. He doesn't have time to duck really. Instead it connects with his midsection and him and the log fly for a few feet before landing in the sand. That crazy thing is gonna stab him. ]

[Toothless remembers his last encounter with this creature - the wrecked gym room, the fireballs, the screaming that had left him wondering if this thing was a Viking or not. He's not entirely sure, to be honest. However, his protective instincts shove themselves directly in front of all that thought.

Clara is his friend, and she's hurt - and she needs help. Help he can give.

The Night Fury comes like a streak of black lightning from the rest of the party, with a guttural snarl that lingers nastily in the back of his throat. He growls and arches his back like the world's biggest mustelid, putting himself directly between the strangely armored Viking and those around Clara. His wings spread out as far as they'll go, a Night Fury's threat display - a warning not to come any closer, as he bares all of his short but very sharp teeth at the Traveler, hissing and snarling. This isn't the cuddly mascot of the mansion - this is a very angry predator.]

[She barely saw the log; she definitely does not see the surface-monster until she sees a dark shape blotting her view of her targets.

She stops. She's a brave girl. Brave girls don't feel fear, they don't be afraid because if you're afraid then the bad men can get you.

But its fire is stronger than hers. And it doesn't move like a person or a shark or Mr. Bubbles, and she's not - she's not sure she's not sure what can she do??

She's still as she thinks. She's here to let the surface people know to stay away from her docks, to GO AWAY so she can rest and wait for Cindy's Daddy to finally leave this (terrible horrible monster-filled) place.

But they're fighting back - and they have their own monster. And here it is to tell her to GO AWAY.

And if she does... They win if she does and she won't be able to rest or wait or bring Cindy's Daddy back.

Her Sister wants her Daddy. (her needle shakes)

Her Sister wants her Daddy.

Her fists clench. She can't let the monsters push her around - what good would she be at protecting her Sisters if she let monsters scare her?

They glow, they ignite, and she lets out an echoing, metallic snarl of her own and starts throwing fire at the monster, as fast as she can.

go away go away GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY!!!]

[The good thing is that, if he has to, he can take the fire. It's not as pleasant as some might think when they contemplate being "fire proof." Hiccup seems to think that being fire proof means no pain. That's not entirely accurate - it's just less unpleasant than if he weren't a dragon, and doesn't leave a mark.

Toothless keeps his wings stretched out, aware that the Vikings around him probably don't react the same way to fire. Probably. You can never be certain, in the mansion, but he doesn't want to be wrong.

The Night Fury holds his ground, eyes narrowed to slits, wings blocking most of the fireballs from reaching beyond him. He can't stop all of them, but he can stop a great many of them.

His only warning for what he, in turn, is about to do is to bare his teeth all of the way and snarl one last time. Then a fireball smacks straight into his stomach and he opens his mouth again, this time to launch a returning blast of his own. A ball of blue fire hits the sand at the Sister's feet, instantly turning some of it to glass and blackening it.

She's too close. If nothing else, he wants her to move farther from those gathered.]

[She sees a flash of blue - then HEAT

She's thrown back, and then she's scrambling back further from it. Too hot too hot too hot-- It's not until her foot hisses against wet sand that she realizes how far she's gone.

The smoke is clearing, the sand is settling, and the monster is there and she's hurt.

She's hurt.

She stares again - but she has to act fast, before it shoots fire again - it might not miss next time. She should--

Its fire is strong, and her's isn't. Not right now. Not like this. Not how she is. ~~She can't--~~

She can't protect anything if she's dead.

but she wants her beach

She shrieks - it's not as strong this time - loud, yes, but there's -- it's almost like fear. It's a sign of retreat, in any case. She shrieks, and throws up any non-glassed sand with her brain, and in that instant she turns around and dives into the water. She swims - unevenly, something must be hurt. The red light is not visible for long (she turns it off, she won't be followed, not by them).]

[The thing that's attacked Clara seems to be distracted, and Owen takes this opportunity to run to Clara's side, hooking his arms under hers and dragging her back in the sand. When he has her a fair distance away, he drops to his knees, pulling his shirt off and pressing it to her stomach. He wants to panic, but he knows that won't do her any good; luckily, years of experience as a doctor (and, more importantly, with Torchwood) mean that he's used to keeping a cool head in a crisis.]

It's okay, Clara. You're gonna be all right. I just need to get you back to the mansion, and then I'll get you stitched up, yeah?

[He's not sure whether he's trying to reassure her or reassure himself.]

[It takes her a bit of time to realize that someone's there with her, and that she's being drug away from the situation at hand. She's still dazed from being attacked then thrown, so it takes some time for everything to really register with her. Eventually, it does dawn on her that Owen's with her and that it's his voice she's hearing. She's lost a decent amount of blood from the gash across her stomach by this point, and it really is sinking in that she could be in some trouble.

So without any of his words really having been heard, she slowly nods. She turns wide eyes over toward him, hands going straight for her stomach.]

I'm fine.

[Of course, she's going to try and reassure him. She's fine, look at her. She's alive and everything.]

Yeah, I'm not quite so sure I'd go that far. [He places her hands over the makeshift dressing, trying to ignore the blood that's already soaking through it.] Apply pressure while I carry you.

[He's not entirely certain he can make it all the way back to the mansion with her, but he's damn well going to try. Owen gathers her up in his arms and stands slowly.]

[Oh.

There is a decent amount of blood, isn't there? She opens her mouth to protest, but finds she can't really form one against what he's instructing her to do. So she settles up against him as best as possible and applies pressure to her injury using his shirt. She's got a feeling it's not going to do much for very long.]

Can you make it?

[She's a bit worried about that, even through the fogginess in her head.]

I can walk, if I need to.

[He rolls his eyes at her, though she can't see it.]

No, you bloody well can't walk. Doctor's orders.

[His worry is evident in his voice; she's losing blood quickly enough that he's not sure he can make it back to the mansion in time.]

[D'Artagnan's been doing his best to get people safely off the beach and back up to the mansion since the moment that-- thing-- found its way up into their party. For once he's without his sword, so he doesn't risk confronting the thing on his own. He's hardly surprised, of course, to find that Clara's thrown herself at it. They always were a bit of a reckless pair, weren't they? In any case, the last time he'd looked, Clara had been fine.

That's hardly the case now.

He rushes over, fairly certain that the remaining people are smart enough to find their way back on their own, and if they're not, well, then they may just deserve what's coming to them.]

Are you in need of--

[It's not Owen that makes him falter, or even the sight of them together. No, it's his hand over the dressing, and all the blood. That's not good. That much blood is never good.

He moves to her other side, pressing his hand over hers, making eye contact with one then the other.]

Tell me what you need.

[Owen's glad to see D'Artagnan offering to help; between the two of them, they ought to be able to get her back to the clinic quickly enough.]

Take her legs and make sure to hold her as steady as you can while you're carrying her. Clara, you just keep holding pressure, all right? Remember what I told you about first aid?

[And now D'Artagnan is here, and it's the three of them hurrying back toward the mansion. She's just grateful for any help at all, really, so she puts a smile on her face and nods in response to Owen's question. Both of them.]

Having a bit of trouble remembering anything right now.

[But she keeps pressure on the area, and flops her head over to rest up against Owen. ]

Things'll be just fine.

[This is said entirely for her own benefit.]

Yes, of course they will.

[D'Artagnan follows directions well enough, but he has to admit that they must look a little ridiculous, all hurrying toward the mansion. He and Owen aren't the largest of men and-- Look, he's just saying, they could've asked Athos or Aramis to help them and it would've been less of a struggle.

Which isn't to say that Clara's too large for them to handle, no, not at all. She's quite petite, very much what a woman should be and-- oh, look at that, there's the entrance to the mansion. The doors are open, thankfully, and they make it to the stairs. Dieu, what he wouldn't give for an elevator. Even a manual one.]

How are we doing?

[Hey, he's just trying to keep Clara talking. He doesn't really expect her to remember anything at a time like this.]

[Owen pauses at the foot of the stairs, eyeing them with a bit of trepidation.] All right so far. We just need to get her up to the clinic. [Which is only one flight of stairs, luckily for them.]

Doing just fine.

[Without raising her head, she holds her hand up and gives a thumbs up, which drastically decreases the amount of pressure she's applying to her midsection. Of course, she's feeling a little drowsy and like she just wants to rest for a few days straight now, so she probably wasn't applying that much pressure anyway.]

Probably could walk myself the rest of the way, if the two of you weren't making such a great transport right now.

[That pulls a laugh from D'Artagnan, and he tightens his grip as he starts up the stairs, carefully. He's glad it's only one floor up.]

I'm sure you would. I don't know why you'd want to give this up, though. Two strong men, carrying you around? I'm surprised it's not how you travel all the time.

Careful, or else she'll have both of us acting as her manservants while she's recuperating. [Well, Owen's already accepted that as his ultimate fate, but D'Artagnan can still escape.] And we'll have to carry her around the whole time in addition to waiting on her hand and foot.

[They manage to make it up the stairs, and Owen nudges the clinic door open with a foot.]

Just on one of the beds here is fine.

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benny the amazing log swinging vampire

*applause*

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MEANWHILE...

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OH LOOK A DASHING YOUNG MUSKETEER

MY HERO /swoon

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applause