Burnt Offerings [IC]

[Dr Archeville]

The revenant's jaw almost dropped at the brutality before him. He'd seen worse, sure, but never against a friend. "Nick!"

You ready, Mutt?

Grrr...

Good boy.

Dead Head glared at Samedi (you must be havin' a field day, me defendin' you), then to Kriminel, "normally I'd be more'n happy t'let you take however much'a Samedi's hide you want, but you just hurt my friend..."

A barely-visible shimmer leaped upon Kriminel, nipping and gnashing at his heels. As Mutt worked to distract the loa, Dead Head ducked behind a nearby tombstone, appearing from out behind another one adjacent to Kriminel, shovel held high, which he brought down on Kriminel's head with a resounding CRACK!

"Keep y'alls family feudin' at home, in Guinee, not here!"

[Ecalsneerg]

Equinox whirled around behind Kriminel, fingers white on the handle of her sword. The bastard god had hurt Nick. Now he was going to pay for it. With a quick gesture of one hand, she signalled for Hayley to run like hell before conjuring wind beneath her to lift her high into the air.

With the other hand, she initiated a windmill like spin in mid-air, trying to slice downwards with the sword while the Baron was too dazed from Dead Head's assault to defend himself. Unfortunately, her anger got the better of her and she found herself only slicing air as the imprecise blow swung just a few hairs too wide.

[trollthumper]

Nick drove the pain down deep - though he had to push pretty damn hard - and decided that perhaps Kriminel deserved a bit of the blade in return. The ectoplasm that was practically flowing through the cemetery at this point formed into claws on his hands. "Y'know, I always thought meeting you might go something like this," he said as he danced around Kriminel. "Not that I wanted to meet you. And like Dead Head, I'd be fine with you taking this out on Samedi's fetid ass. But people have died here tonight." He drove forth, but even when reeling, the loa was swift enough to duck under the swipe. "Let's just say you're not in my good books."

"Men are made to die," said Kriminel. "What does it matter when? They made the deal. I took what was mine. For you to fault me when you defend trash like him --"

The fog around Kriminel raced forward, shaped into a dozen outstretched arms. Nick was familiar with the construct - he did something similar to hurl things about or drag them down - but he never topped his arms off with fists. The storm of blows caught Kriminel's host right in the midsection, sending the loa careening into a nearby gravestone.

"And that, dear Brother," said Samedi, "is why no one invites to parties." The Ghede turned to Nick and gave him a grin like a denuded skull. "And watch your tongue, bokor. My ass is magnificent."

[Dr Archeville]

"If men were made to die," Dead Head spat at Kriminel as he raised his shovel up again, "which I strongly disagree on -- then 'when' is all that matters!" He brought the shovel down again on the vile loa, hoping that this time he'd stay down and depart whatever hapless mortal was serving as his cheval.

We're wearin' 'im down, sure, but then what? If he's knocked out, will that be enough to drive out Kriminel's spirit? If so, we'll have a badly beaten mortal, human dude, who may or may not have any idea what's goin' on. An' once Kriminel is beat back, what about Samedi? Is he just gonna walk off? Do we just let him walk off?

Nick felt a cold nose push against one hand. Nick could not see him, but he knew Mutt's presence well enough to know it was the Legba-hound.

[trollthumper]

The blow took the mad god hard, almost driving him into the ground like a post. Blood ran from the scalp like a waterfall, and Baron Kriminel let out the last thing Nick expected - a moan of pain. He clutched as his bleeding crown as the stigmata across his chest flared bright scarlet, the cry echoing across the empty cemetery. After far too long, it died out, and the host fell to the ground, empty. Nick was quick to run to the man, checking his pulse.

"He's alive," Nick said, "but not looking too hot." He gathered some of the stray ectoplasm from the air, running it into the man's body. The faint stigmata on his chest were already fading, but there was deeper damage that would take time to heal. Kriminel obviously demanded a lot from his hosts.

"Well," Baron Samedi, "I must say that it is a pleasure doing business with you. I think I shall be on my way..."

[Dr Archeville]

"Business, ya say?," Dead Head drawled, spinning to face Samedi and pointing at him with the business end of his shovel. "Seems t'me our business ain't jes' done yet."

Yo, Mutt, look menacin'. I mean, real menacin'.

Responding to he revenant's soul-linked message, the Legba-hound turned from Cimitiere and stalked slowly towards Samedi. His eyes began glowing a hellish red, and faintly luminescent foam flecked from his mouth.

"'Course, we all know you can jes' pop out any time ya want, an' avoid whatever manner o' violence we may wanna visit 'pon ya. An', speakin' solely for myself, that's a lot of violence. But I got somethin' else in mind."

He thrust the shovel's head right in front of Samedi's face, coming just short of smacking him in the nose. "You see that? That's blood -- Kriminel's blood. That Nick, 'Nox, an' I shed, while you sat there cowerin'! We saved yer miserable, wretched hide, an' you know damned well what that means."