Two brothers stood at the crest of a hill at an edge of town, if the crumbling heaps of debris counted as a town. But it was just the kind of place to draw scavengers and hideaways. Ashrat fish in the proverbial barrel. A wanderer's playground like that was bound to draw in predators. Cats like rats and fish.

[color=#e0ccb8][b]"What have we got?" [/b][/color]asked Spire, the elder of the two, as he surveyed the broken, ash-dusted buildings with keen gray eyes.

The brothers, despite any and all prior use of cat metaphor, had an essence more canine than feline about them, the attractive, dark haired Spire showing something vaguely wolfish in his cool, dispassionate smile. The younger Schippers brother, Toby, might identify more closely with a golden retriever. His big eyes and the permanent furrow of concern in his forehead looked inherently trustworthy, and sky blue argyle sweatervests don't make very intimidating battle armor, whether you wear shoulder holsters over them or not.

[color=#cce6ff][b]"There's a group on the other side of the ruins," [/b][/color] said Toby. They were only just in his sensory range, but he screwed his eyes shut to concentrate. [color=#cce6ff][b]"Invisibility...c--contact transmutation, something with body energy and heat..."[/b][/color]

[color=#e0ccb8][b]"Invisibility could be irritating,"[/b][/color] observed Spire, whose counter-Curse wouldn't work too well, or, well, at all, if he couldn't see the target.

[color=#cce6ff][b]"Yeah," [/b][/color]said Toby. [color=#cce6ff][b]"There are some other stragglers. T--T--[i]Teleporter[/i]... and then another one, um...oh."[/b][/color] He shook his head. [color=#cce6ff][b]"Mind manipulator. He or--or she could know our intentions and make us k--kill each other before we even got close. So unless you want me to, you know, snipe from the top of the hill..."[/b][/color] But he knew Spire never never did.

Spire made a noncommittal sound in his throat.

They spoke of picking victims with the casual air one might use to debate which brand of shoes to buy.

[color=#cce6ff][b]"Regenerator?"[/b][/color] tried Toby. [color=#cce6ff][b]"Alone, at the moment."[/b][/color] Though there were others in the ruins.

Spire smiled. [color=#e0ccb8][b]"And could probably use some degenerating."[/b][/color]

[color=#cce6ff][b]"I think we'll have an issue with making this one stay d--dead when you look away. Um. We'd probably have to cut the body up into pieces and put them in separate containers to prevent regeneration," [/b][/color]said Toby, frowning. [color=#cce6ff][b]"For sure the head."[/b][/color] He didn't look forward to the idea of that kind of mutilation even a little bit.

Spire, on the other hand, shrugged, his interest vaguely piqued. Tucking his hands in the pockets of his slim gray coat, he ran his thumb along the edge of a serrated blade that could probably handle the bone sawing he envisioned would happen in the near future. He wasn't usually one for going all Texas Chainsaw Massacre on people, appreciating rather the elegant simplicity of a sliced throat or a couple of slow-killing puncture wounds, but it wasn't like he[i] minded [/i] the indulgence of a mess now and again.[color=#e0ccb8][b] "Well, sounds like if we dont kill this bastard, nobody will." [/b][/color]

[color=#cce6ff][b]"Thought you'd say that,"[/b][/color] said Toby with meek reluctance, and he started down the hill, focused on the aura of the regenerator.

They found a metal box where the Cursed should have been, surrounded by shriveled corpses. Toby could detect ability-related residue wafting from the area. This was a quizzical little scene.

Toby held onto his old but reliable Glock.

[color=#e0ccb8][b]"Gift box? You shouldn't have,"[/b][/color] Spire remarked to no one in particular, taking a knee and proceeding to break the rusty padlock with a nearby brick.