(almost) Closing Time

[Maebh Breandan]

Fear rolled in the pit of Maebh's stomach but it was shoved down by stronger emotions, most of all stupidity. How could she was run outside without grabbing weapons from the wagon? She'd been trained to fight with muggle weapons traveling with her parents because their travels often brought them into muggle territory. It was also just tradition. Gypsy loved their knives.

The snarling demons circled around her, toying with their prey. Quickly Maebh jumped to her feet, eyes searching for a weapon. Magic did not work with these creatures and if she summoned her knives they'd pounce on her before she could complete the incantation. A spell was like catnip for these creatures. She quickly glanced around her one eye on the demons. She'd found several rocks near her and a piece of wood that looked like it had been knocked free from the staircase banister. Quickly, Maebh snatched it up, trying to get a feel of the slippery weapon. Merlin, why did it have to rain?

A few demons turned and left the circle when the front door opened. She heard her name being called but didn't turn. Her mind barely registered the sound, her focus on the demons.

Using rocks and her stick she kept them at bay but it was just through annoyance. She needed something stronger, deadlier if she wanted to live.

Then her brother was beside her. Maebh blinked at Conan. She hadn't seen him in a very long time. She shot him a snarky grin at his comment.

"Noth'n a few gypsy's can't handle eh? Got a extra blade?" She asked as she threw her last rock hitting a demon in the eye area.

[Reckony Pike]

"What the Hell are you doing?!" Curse yelled at Pike, gritting his teeth angrily as he looked up at the Demons. They were still hovering over the witch in their clutches, paying no attention to the three brawling men by the door.

A disheveled Reckony looked up from the pile of limbs on the ground, confused by Curse's heightened agitation. Perhaps he was quick to pee up the wrong tree. Perhaps Curse felt less of a man for being rescued. Perhaps he should say something.

“Gitttraaooff!”

Perhaps not. A strong scent of fermentation emitted from the bellowing voice beneath Pike and the wincing that soon entrenched the barkeep's face was less from the knife that superficially sliced at his arm than it was from the stench. Right. Star Cloak. The drunken turd. Pike went to pick himself up when he made eyes with the young woman on the ground. She looked so innocent. She was clearly in trouble. His heart sank. Oh my God, she was a victim.

So, Conan Breandan. You like to hit the ladies? You son of a - "

Reckony was about to swing a solid fist in Breandan's direction when he a saw the real cause of the raucous: a demon.

"Oh bad."

[Conan Breandan]

"Noth'n a few gypsy's can't handle eh? Got a extra blade?" She asked as she threw her last rock hitting a demon in the eye area.

“Don’t I always?” He flipped her one he held, quickly followed by the other. He didn’t look to see if she’d caught them, instead trusting that her skills hadn’t eroded with the time between them. New daggers appeared like magic, Conan from long habit ‘pulling’ them from the thin air. He stood side by side with his sister, nothing and no one in the world now mattering.

kekeke ke krraaakeke

The sound repeated, rising and falling as the demons, more now attracted by the noise and magic, look, there was a swift-flowing river of it, snaking and dripping from that one there…

Except for them. Conan felt the adrenaline in his system, feeling the race of blood in his veins. He felt reckless, his alcohol fueled system focusing on only one thing, the demons. Darting in where Maebh distracted them, his knives flashed from the darkness in their vision. He was barely registrating on their senses, only their dim heatsense picking up the non-magical human. And they were blinded by the shining magic in the blood of the one, and the quick fire in the slim one, and the steady burning light in the big one. A feast, a feast for all.

Strategy was not coming to Conan this night, his usually sharp wits were quite clouded and he fought only for survival.

[Reckony Pike]

Reckony stood uncharacteristically still for the first several milliseconds of the demon shake-down. His start was stalled in equal parts by the appearance of the demons, the presence of gypsies and terminally ill ex-aurors, and his missing bat, which Reckony admitted he was entirely responsible for. He saw knives, blood, ravenous demonic thirst and a stunning beauty, with whom Conan seemed friendly. That was unfortunate.

Never one to miss out on a good brawl - especially when the honour of his bar was at stake - Reckony snapped out of his stunned state and formed a human shield with Curse, Conan and the hot gypsy. There were four of them against a growing number of hideous-looking, fetid beasts. Reckony, realizing he was without shiny hardware, reached for the scattered cobbles that were dislodged from their setting in the street. He nodded for Curse to do the same.

"I left my knives at home."

Kekeke ke krraaakeke!

"Good God!"

The noise emitted by the demons caused the barkeep's hair to stand on end. It was both grossly disturbing and irritating and Reckony found himself longing for it to stop.

"Ok. I take back what I said about the coven's karaoke."

[Maebh Breandan]

The night would be one to remember that was for sure. The demons were toying with the humans like a toddler playing with his food, building up the anticipation for the bite to come. Of course, the rain wasn't enough of a challenge a large man had to come hurling himself at her older brother. Yes, Conan was a jerk but he was busy at the moment. Couldn't the stranger come back to fulfill his grudge? She wasn't denying the man his satisfaction, Conan always did something to offend. Still, he was her brother when meant that she would have his back no matter what he did. Well, except murder. Probably wouldn't help him then, but then again it depended on the reasons.

Maebh caught the blades her brother had thrown at her, a wicked grin on her face. The rain had made the handles a bit slick but she had managed to keep control. One eye on the demons in front of her, she tested the blades. Oh, these were good. Maybe even better quality than she had in her wagon. Perhaps, in the midst of all this chaos Conan wouldn't notice if she didn't return the blades. But that wasn't important at the moment. Side by side, the Breandans fought, Maebh's childhood teachings in her head. For a second, it was like she was a kid again learning how to brawl with her older brother. This time the stakes were much higher.

A demon jetted forward claws hooked and glistening in the rain. Maebh was bent slow, waiting for the right moment to slice at the soft underbelly of the beast. Rain plastered her thick hair against her neck, keeping it out of the way with water weight. She really wasn't dressed for battle. Her pale blue cotton night gown clung to her, restricting the fluidity of her movements, preventing her to stretch out fully. Her in ability to use her entire range of moment, allowed a demon to catch the cloth at her hem, for a second she was trapped but then the wet cloth gave way and her him now reached a inch or so above her knee. She ignored the pain from a thin jagged cut on her leg, instead lashing out at the demon her knives slitting the creatures throat. It let out a piercing scream before dying.

A younger demon, well a smaller demon, stopped at the sound, leaving the hoard around Curse to come for the one who killed it's kin. Maebh took aim and threw one of her blades at the creature, by luck it hit square in the heart but she was a blade short.

"WE CAN"T KILL THEM ALL. WE SHOULD RETREAT TO THE PUB!" she shouted hoping the fools would hear her. More demons than she had ever thought possible began to appear out of no where. There must have been a dozen of them surrounding the four adults. They were out numbered.

[Curse Kameren]

The fumbling, awkward nature of Curse's current action was not usual for him. He was rusty, too many days outside of the Ministry. Taking therapy to get rid of his paranoia had taken the edge off of his skills, apparently. The cut from the knife snapped him into auror-mode however, as one of the demons turned on him at the smell of his blood. He smiled. Good.

As the others started fighting the demons on their own, Curse set to work. With an open wound, the demons would come to him. As soon as they were close enough, Curse took a shot. BANG. BANG BANG. BANG. Three demons fell, vanishing as soon as they appeared. He glanced over at Reckony as the barkeep took up cobblestones to defend himself. Curse had a knife and a gun in hand, but couldn't lend the man either; the knife had Curse's poisonous blood on it, and he wasn't sure if Pike even knew how to use a gun. As another demon lashed out, Curse shot again. It took two shots to take down. Five. He was out of bullets.

"WE CAN"T KILL THEM ALL. WE SHOULD RETREAT TO THE PUB!"

"With this many, they could get in! We're not endangering the others inside!" Curse looked over at the others, throwing down the gun and throwing off his jacket. He held the knife tightly in his hand, sending the others a look. I know what I'm doing. The ex-auror grit his teeth, slicing the knife into his own arm, from elbow to wrist. His pink blood gushed out of the wound, bleeding out too quickly even for the rain to cover up. The demons weren't able to contain themselves at the smell, and lunged forward.

"Stay back! Don't touch it!" Curse yelled through the screeches of the creatures as he wiped his own blood off his arm, throwing it down onto the ground. The demons lapped it up, more coming for him at the smell. There were too many demons. If he tried to kill them all with his blood, it would kill him as well. He glanced over his shoulder at the gypsies and the barkeep, his eyes pleading for help. He needed them to kill them while they were distracted by him. Several of the demons around him started to turn white and shudder, shrinking away before disappearing into the night. The poison was taking affect.

[Ralin O'Faerlun]

((Many apologies for the delay in my posting! ))

In the heat of the battle's turmoil, no one had noticed the pale eye of the moon slipping between cracks in the clouds, winking down at the flash of knives, blood and inhuman demon-shapes writhing and whirling in the street below. Cold light mixed with the muddy ground, flickering from dark rain-shadow to bright moonlight that flashed on a massive shape that leaped over the heads of the humans and into the midst of the blood-crazed demons.

A bone-chilling howl tore through the screams and cackles of the demons as the powerful wolf bounded through the battle, teeth flashing and paws batting aside darkling-shapes. All that could be seen of the wolf was reddish fur and fierce golden-green eyes. Three demons slammed into its side, bowling it over and out of the crowd of demons, but the wolf leaped to its feet and charged at the ones greedily surrounding Curse and his bleeding arm. Snarling angrily at them, the wolf fought them off from overwhelming the ex-auror, planting its legs firmly to keep any more from trying to attack the wounded man.

Hopefully, Ralin thought as he slashed at one creature with massive claws, the others would recognize him as being on their side, and not try to attack the big wolf in the heat of battle. He'd left a conjured patronus in the tavern to alert him if anything broke through the door. After all, Pike had appointed him to guard the place. But after seeing the overwhelming odds, Ralin had to do something, and the appearance of the moon was lucky. After all, that was his middle name.

Turning his head, the werewolf grinned at Curse, a very human expression on a canine face, revealing a fierce smile of very sharp teeth. Then he returned his focus to the battle.

[Reckony Pike]

Right. One blood donor, two gypsy twins, one boy-turned-werewolf and a bartender. Reckony hucked another cobble with frustration, effectively enraging one of the larger demons. Why, oh God why, did he toss his bat? He entirely blamed Star Cloak for it.

It was remarkable how quickly the evening went from a peaceful puff on a cigar to hellfire and brimstone. Reckony should have closed the bar when he intended. Everyone would be home by now. The demons would be clawing at the door of an empty establishment. Curse wouldn't be bleeding to death. Ralin wouldn't be a dog.

"Okay, I've calculated our odds," Reckony released a queer smirk, "and we're going to die." There was no help to call upon in this situation and while the company of ragtag heroes was making a valiant effort, it didn't take a Ravenclaw to catch upon the logic. Something gnawed at Pike's boot and he kicked out wildly, failing to free himself from the demonic ball and chain.

"You bloody little maggot!

"Stay back! Don't touch it!"

"It's kinda hard not to touch your blood, Curse! You're bleeding the bludger all over the place!" Reckony continued to kick and kick and kick. He was growing uncharacteristically frustrated. "We're done. There's probably a whole army of these little brats marching towards us. They steal our magic, they steal our blood, and they're going to steal my bar! GET OFF!" With one final flail of his nearly-numb leg, Reckony managed to launch both his boot and the clingy demon skyward. It arched sharply at the zenith of it's trajectory and came thundering back to earth at what would ironically be a terminal velocity. The boot and the demon missed Reckony Pike. It missed the former auror. It missed the werewolf. It missed the grace of Maebh and the obnoxious shimmering of Conan's cloak. What the objects did hit was a tower of empty butterbeer barrels that Pike had stacked with the help of a mate the night before. Very large, very heavy butterbeer barrels. At least two dozen. The resulting thud was enough to bring the stack down.

One by one, the barrels began to roll towards the group of witches, wizards and demons. There was no way to stop them - not without magic - and the only out was to run.

"AHA! That's it!" Reckony screamed as he ran, scooping an arm around Maebh and rushing her ahead. "Curse, we need you to bleed ahead of the barrels! No pressure. Run, friends! Run!"