Rockin', Vaughtar, Shannon, Zesiro, Winston, Hirshe
[[@Rockin Strings][@Arty Fox][@Fetzen]]


When the pony rammed into Hirshe, the man’s feet did not budge from their place, the pony clambered up on top of him, an armored hand reached up to swat away the equine nuisance… He managed to dislodge the pony from atop his head, tossing Rockin’ to the floor--- Then grey claws arrested his wrists as Vaughtar arrived and grabbed them. 

Hirshe twisted his wrists, but, they did not escape the gargoyles grip. That strange red steam began to pour once again from the cracks and seams of the gauntlets. 

Shannon made a noise, yelling about friends, Hirshe seemed not to hear or not to care. The glowing red smoke billowed furiously from his arms. 

Hirshe drove his body forward into the Gargoyle, with a burst of superhuman strength, pushed Vaughtar toward the cracked-glass wall...

If the gargoyle hit it, it would not break… but the crack would grow and splinter even more. 

On the ground the body of Zesiro lay still with a hole in his stomach… The body had landed ungracefully, one elbow was bent the wrong way...

“Fuck.” Said the dead boy. His eyes opened, bright blue, and amazed by the pain he was in. 

He struggled to sit up, reaching around with both his broken and his non-broken arm for something to heave himself up by. He had little success in getting himself upright, but, did get his head up enough to watch the fight as it was unfolding.  

Winston was still panicking nearby. “Get away from him he’s dangerous!” Then as Winston watched the crack grow. “Don’t let him break the glass!”

His voice was weak and wheezing because one of his lungs was no good anymore, but the volume with which he cursed did not seem to be inhibited. With which he cursed was strong. “[i]Fuck[/i]” He winced, it was painful to speak. “Winston shut up. They can’t do both.” Zesiro dark blood came out of his mouth as he spoke. “They’ve got to kill him.”