A War Gone Mad [Invite]

Octavian nodded to his Malkavian friend, stroking the eggplant colored hair from his face, cradling the madman protectively. "I'll make sure you rest Master Finn, and I'll ensure it's uninterrupted." He swore, bloody tears dripping from his eyes. He felt a sad rage he had never before felt. Burning deep inside him, so hot that even Rini's maniacle laughter was cut short, and silenced. There wasn't a sense of pride or Ventrue propriety, just sorrow that one of his friends had been wounded. "Rest easy Finn. We've got this. Etonis is after the monster as we speak." Octavian looked up towards the woods they had vanished into and screamed, all his fury out at the fleeing Nichiya. "This will not stand!" He screamed, and screamed and screamed until his voice grew coarse with the effort. Brilliant brown eyes glittering with empathic rage.

He hadn't acted poorly, his moves had been made. Now everything relied on the knight on the board.

Laughter fell from the sky as the flames grew, lapping at the stars themselves. The Eastern Monsters looked terrified, shocked into stillness as the moment between Demon and Assamite came and went. For once, she did not offer any insults. She simply let him go, chasing after the creature that had wounded the powerful eggplant man. The moment he was gone, her Hell-Fire washed down over the Monster's goons, their screams lighting up the night. It did not take long for their bodies to melt, turning to ash. Don, as blood-thirsty as she was, allowed her companion this fight.

North from the fire, the Monster had tried to hide his footsteps in the woods. However, the sounds of his companion's shrieking made him messy, sloppy. He began to make noise, trampling his way through and making it easier for Etonis to track him. Even his breathing, a necessity for the oldest generations of Keui-Jin, was obnoxious. His sword sheathed after his attack against Finn, he was unarmed and easy prey.

Nichiya wasn't using the full of his power as he barreled through the forest, his eyes wild and nostrils flaring. The blood of the giant Beast decorated his shirt and jacket. His blade seemed to have disappeared.

Suddenly, he felt the force of a soul push past him and he let out a noise of shock, surprise. He turned his foot in an effort to catch himself, but with his speed, he skidded and fell to his side.

One hand thrust out, slamming into the ground to catch himself. His eyes turned to glare at his new opponent and he offered him a slow, dangerous smile. Recognition flickered across his gaze at the smell of brimstone that clung to Eto's hair and skin.

"You're the demon chaser," he said as he straightened himself. "You think you can fight ME? Your arrogance is appalling, young Beast."

It would seem as if his scimitars were reflected by nothing at all, but neither would hit their mark. Even Eto's enhanced senses couldn't recognize any movement from the Eastern Monster. He remained exactly as he had been before. A fist was clenched, however, and his wicked grin had spread across his face. His eyes were entirely focused on Eto's face, and the two were moving at speeds that could not be visually captured by the human eye. It promised to be an excellent fight.

"Part of being a good fighter," Nichiya informed him, voice a low grumble from deep within his chest, "is knowing when to retreat. I have no interest in fighting you, the giant, your precious Prince, or that little Golconda. Not all at once, anyways." His laughter was brief, lasting less than a second, and while he seemed distracted, he was fully prepared to deflect any attack that might come. "My turn."

Without moving at all, Eto would feel an excruciating pain would pulse from inside himself. Even those with a high pain tolerance would find it near-crippling, and most definitely disorienting. His blood itself seemed to come to life, to have a mind of its own, and within a microsecond, it began to leak from his pores. The crimson liquid would turn black almost immediately, completely unavailable for re-absorption. If he allowed it to sit on his skin for long, it would begin to burn, not unlike acid. The longer it sat, the more it would eat away at his flesh.

Because every piece moved separately and at a far lower speed, he would watch each of them stop inches from Nichiya's body, as if unable to pierce through some kind of shield. The Monster was grinning from ear to ear as he watched the blood start to ooze and burn, and that grin never waned as his opponent grew psychotic. He knew Kindred depended on their blood for so much, and if he could just buy himself the time, he knew that he could drop the Beast to the ground.

"Spare me your pathetic attempts at battle," he retorted with a laugh of his own. He remained in humanely still as he stared at Eto, not twitching nor breathing. Only his face moved, expression falling once more to neutrality. "If you are the best of the Beasts, I almost weep for them. I wonder how they beat us originally with such weak creatures at their defense."

He seemed oblivious to the changes of his opponent's scimitar. Nichiya appeared entirely focused on Eto's face, his smile unmoved. The words barbed and meant to hurt did nothing to sway the man from his belief in his wife; he knew Rini DeMorieve far too well for a few insults to shake him. The years he had spent with the woman solidified exactly who she was in his mind, despite the rumors her reputation had garnered. He knew her as a Beast, just as well as the others, but she had gone against her Clan and her kind. He respected her.

"You are petty," he said with a chuckle, the sound dark and menacing coming from the protected man. "And pettiness is below me. Your accusations are unfounded. I retain possession of my wife's eternal soul, given to her at her very human birth. Unlike you, she will not burn in eternal inferno. There is a special afterlife for you... creatures. You will not be allowed a reprieve to the Hell you hold so dear when you, at last, grant us all the mercy of passing on from this world."