DClassified

Escaping The Faewoods - A Survival Horror RP

Wall-Ay

Full Body

● Name
|| Wallace 'Walé' Cambridge

● Age
|| Seventeen

● Gender
|| Male

● Small Description
|| Walé is a model example for an athlete. He stands at 6'0" with a toned but somewhat slim build. This is indicative of the fact that, while he favors flight over fight most days, he’s no slouch when backed into a corner.

As for what he’s typically seen in, it’s usually sportswear. Sweatpants, varying jerseys, gym shorts, sneakers, etc. He always tries to mix and match the colors of his outfits.

● Likes
|| #Music
#Animals
#Movies
#Gaming
#Comics
#BallIsLife
#Peaches

● Dislikes
|| X Bees
X Bullying
X Bullshit
X Ignorant Know-It-Alls
X Fake People
X Snobby Attitudes
X Haterade

● Skills
|| Observation
Acting
Critical Thinking
Problem/Puzzle-Solving
Hauling Ass

● Fears
|| Fire
Ghosts
Wild Animals
The Shadows
What Lurks IN The Shadows
Being Abandoned By Family/Friends

● Inventory
|| Hair-Pick
Cell Phone
Headphones
Six Rubber Wristbands

● Personality
|| Walé is a good guy, to put it simply. He’s the type of guy that works hard, holds the door for people, and doesn’t try to be something that he isn’t. Although not seeming to be the brightest, he is painfully observant and clever. As such, he likes to act flamboyant and silly around among his friends. He stands out in a crowd and by no means falls victim to peer pressure. He tends to radiate a positive aura that latches onto the good spirits of others. Even when going through the motions, and it’d take something dramatic to faze him.

When he does end up in a mood, he drags his feet, his head hangs just a little bit lower; his heart's on his sleeve. He has depressed periods that he often tries his best to hide in public, which can constitute with him being overly comical at times. Walé is very defensive about his mom and sensitive to those who don’t particularly treat their mothers well. When really fired up, he'll get testy and confrontational, albeit never violent.

● History
|| Wallace didn’t have a lot when he was young. He wasn’t the kid with the hottest new game system. He wasn’t the kid that got to go on family vacations or anything like that. His family was just managing to keep their head above the water, but they had each other, and that was enough for him.

His pops ran the local barber shop, Calvin's Chop Shop, was the name of the place. Although his dad was real strict, he was funny, hardworking, and kind. He bought Walé his first basketball and told him all kinds of stories about differing sports heroes. A lot of who Wallace is today was built up by that man. He was everything one could want in a father, even if he wasn’t perfect. At least, that was how Walé saw him. As it turned out, his eating habits weren’t the greatest and it was a major contributor when his father passed away due to heart problems.

It tore their family of three asunder as Walé and his mother had to move on without him. From his youth onward, it was clear that he was much closer to his father than his mother, but they kept one another up when times were bleak. So, for a while it was just them with his mother having to light the candle on both ends to make ends meet.

That is, until she met a man named Marcus, whom his mother eventually fell in love with to try filling the void. Wallace felt betrayed but did his best to simply keep those emotions inside for the sake of his mom’s happiness. Though, the man sometimes secretly abused his mom. When asked about it, he found himself met with his mother’s desperate protests to leave it be; that it’d get better with time. Although he didn’t want to believe it, Walé relented.

This led to Walé burying himself in the world of sports to funnel his frustrations. Again, everything seemed to fade into a sort of normalcy. He even got his little sister, Deena, in that time, who he gravitated to instantly. Though, as if on some wicked turntable, the same year that she was born, was the same year that Wallace lost his mother to a house fire, with his stepfather jailed for manslaughter.

His Aunt Marsha basically went to war against the childcare system to keep them together, eventually adopting them. As the saying went, time moved forward, and for the past two years, Amadeus is finally able to start coming back into his own again. School’s been fine, College sports scouts and even some NBA reporters come to his games.

Everything seemed to be looking up...Or So He Thought...

Escaping The Faewoods - A Survival Horror RP

Ah okay, it's a nature pentagram. Never stepping even close to one of dem shits.

Escaping The Faewoods - A Survival Horror RP

Wall-Ay

Full Body

● Name
|| Wallace 'Walé' Cambridge

● Age
|| Seventeen

● Gender
|| Male

● Small Description
|| Walé is a model example for an athlete. He stands at 6'0" with a toned but somewhat slim build. This is indicative of the fact that, while he favors flight over fight most days, he’s no slouch when backed into a corner.

As for what he’s typically seen in, it’s usually sportswear. Sweatpants, varying jerseys, gym shorts, sneakers, etc. He always tries to mix and match the colors of his outfits.

● Likes
|| #Music
#Animals
#Movies
#Gaming
#Comics
#BallIsLife
#Peaches

● Dislikes
|| X Bees
X Bullying
X Bullshit
X Ignorant Know-It-Alls
X Fake People
X Snobby Attitudes
X Haterade

● Skills
|| Observation
Acting
Critical Thinking
Problem/Puzzle-Solving
Hauling Ass

● Fears
|| Fire
Ghosts
Wild Animals
The Shadows
What Lurks IN The Shadows
Being Abandoned By Family/Friends

● Inventory
|| Hair-Pick
Cell Phone
Headphones
Six Rubber Wristbands

● Personality
|| Walé is a good guy, to put it simply. He’s the type of guy that works hard, holds the door for people, and doesn’t try to be something that he isn’t. Although not seeming to be the brightest, he is painfully observant and clever. As such, he likes to act flamboyant and silly around among his friends. He stands out in a crowd and by no means falls victim to peer pressure. He tends to radiate a positive aura that latches onto the good spirits of others. Even when going through the motions, and it’d take something dramatic to faze him.

When he does end up in a mood, he drags his feet, his head hangs just a little bit lower; his heart's on his sleeve. He has depressed periods that he often tries his best to hide in public, which can constitute with him being overly comical at times. Walé is very defensive about his mom and sensitive to those who don’t particularly treat their mothers well. When really fired up, he'll get testy and confrontational, albeit never violent.

● History
|| Wallace didn’t have a lot when he was young. He wasn’t the kid with the hottest new game system. He wasn’t the kid that got to go on family vacations or anything like that. His family was just managing to keep their head above the water, but they had each other, and that was enough for him.

His pops ran the local barber shop, Calvin's Chop Shop, was the name of the place. Although his dad was real strict, he was funny, hardworking, and kind. He bought Walé his first basketball and told him all kinds of stories about differing sports heroes. A lot of who Wallace is today was built up by that man. He was everything one could want in a father, even if he wasn’t perfect. At least, that was how Walé saw him. As it turned out, his eating habits weren’t the greatest and it was a major contributor when his father passed away due to heart problems.

It tore their family of three asunder as Walé and his mother had to move on without him. From his youth onward, it was clear that he was much closer to his father than his mother, but they kept one another up when times were bleak. So, for a while it was just them with his mother having to light the candle on both ends to make ends meet.

That is, until she met a man named Marcus, whom his mother eventually fell in love with to try filling the void. Wallace felt betrayed but did his best to simply keep those emotions inside for the sake of his mom’s happiness. Though, the man sometimes secretly abused his mom. When asked about it, he found himself met with his mother’s desperate protests to leave it be; that it’d get better with time. Although he didn’t want to believe it, Walé relented.

This led to Walé burying himself in the world of sports to funnel his frustrations. Again, everything seemed to fade into a sort of normalcy. He even got his little sister, Deena, in that time, who he gravitated to instantly. Though, as if on some wicked turntable, the same year that she was born, was the same year that Wallace lost his mother to a house fire, with his stepfather jailed for manslaughter.

His Aunt Marsha basically went to war against the childcare system to keep them together, eventually adopting them. As the saying went, time moved forward, and for the past two years, Amadeus is finally able to start coming back into his own again. School’s been fine, College sports scouts and even some NBA reporters come to his games.

Everything seemed to be looking up...Or So He Thought...

I don't know what in the Mario Sonic a "toadstool ring" is, but don't step in it.

《 H. E. R. O. 》

<sub>Location
|| UNKNOWN ||

Time
|| Morning ||

Interactions
|| @Hitman, @CanaryRose, @DarkRecon ||</sub>

---

Samson's eyes roved among the others now as they all seemed to resort to their own versions of a plan. Splitting up seemed to be the only option in their heads, despite his reservations against such an action. "Nature is cruel to a herd that scatters," common knowledge for a hunter, but that may not have exactly translated to the others. For one, clearly from the lingering smell of alcohol breath in the air, a good many of them were hungover from the night before. Which, was going to be doubly dangerous for them to be going into battle.

While he may not have been the brightest tactician, their impaired thinking was showing with the presentations with which the groups would be split. William even changed his mind twice. Shaking his head, Sam was soon to follow after Joseph when he caught wind of another strange, yet familiar smell. Refocusing his sense of smell to his more immediate area, Sam sniffed the air. Horsehair and...Wood? The combination of these two scents seemed entirely out of place for this environment.

His nose kept shifting and he turned his head to Patricia. Mulling over the smell again, it was horsehair, and a sort of pine...two were main components in the composition of a violin; Eliza's scent. This was a development that could lead to their friends' rescue. His eye quickly turned as he saw a monitor come to life. A man's voice, with both Eliza and Grace on screen. The man spoke with an arrogant air that made Samson narrow his eyes. Though, his skin tensed when they were shocked awake.

It was clear that this villain's arrogance betrayed him though, when Grace managed to quickly shout out a key weakness in ape-like leftover's senses. Along with that, the perpetrators for their situation. The Wings of Law? Meaning the group that worked under HERO along with them were responsible for putting them in this peril? The blatant betrayal made his blood boil. Childish rivalries were one thing, actively placing women and children in life or death situations was another.

When punished for the villain's own incompetence, Sam silently thanked Bypass before walking over to Patricia. Eyeing the monitor again, he kept his voice low. "I may be able to find our allies through my senses. As it currently stands, you have Murmur's scent attached to you. I will not make assumptions about how, but it is the only lead we have."

Kanati then briefly closed his eyes to focus on his sense of touch to follow the air flow. Focusing in on the fine spruce scent, he found himself turned in the direction of the Basilica. It would make sense to hide in the area most protected, though it would be too obvious. Too obvious for someone who overthought things, like he did. Thus, there had to have been some merit in going there. Currently, Firebird and Spacewalker were driving the beasts back who were managing to close the distance. They were clearly running out of time.

"Alpha, take my place in the group with Joseph. I am unaware of how many monitors he has on this place, but my senses allow me a means of locating our teammates. I am unsure if this villain will let arrogance strike him twice, so we split his attention to multiple places."

Sam rolled his shoulders and went on in the direction of the ogres. The hunter called out to the others as he started on his path:

"Everyone moving, move quickly!"

Escaping The Faewoods - A Survival Horror RP

Been a while since I did something horror. I'm with it.

《 H. E. R. O. 》

<sub>Location
|| UNKNOWN ||

Time
|| Morning ||

Interactions
|| @Hitman, @Scarifar, @CanaryRose, @DarkRecon ||</sub>

---

"Sam!"

Though the darkness, he heard his name but he didn't want to move. The hunter knew that voice; His dreaded voice.

"Samson, where are they?!" It questioned him again, angered by his silence. The reality was that they both knew what had happened. Samson merely kept his eyes closed in hopes that the man would eventually just walk away. However the youth knew well, too well, that he didn't go anywhere. The boy flinched as the footfalls came closer, muscles tensing, but Sam didn't dare open his eyes.

"I remember specifically tellin' you not to get attached to any of them. DIDN'T I?!" The voice thundered in the space of his silence. Hands gripped at his shoulders and shook his body. "ANSWER ME, CABRÓN!!"

Silence seemed to agitate the voice more, as the hands roughly shoved him and his body crashed into the ground chest first. Sam groaned, but the footfalls momentarily shifted away and his body relaxed. The boy kept to the ground, refusting to look up until he was sure the man was farther away. His hopes of it being over were shattered, though, when he heard a low metallic hum that made him freeze.

"Well, you must think you have some big cajones for defying me." There were steps closer up until Sam could feel the presence of the man standing over him. His hair was snatched up and Sam's body tensed worse than before; aching, begging him to speak up. A foot was planted firmly onto his back.

"We'll see where your loyalties lie after this, Son."

Sam launched up from the marble floor to his feet, breathing heavily. It had been a long time since memories of him had surfaced. Whatever put him out, then, must've been strong. Looking around, it would be an understatement to say that something was wrong. His last memory before darkness was Blake's home. He doubted any drug could create an illusion of this magnitude. Though the orange, ammonia smelling mist, he could now see, wasn't part of the party decorum.

What was more, he could see the others in their varying states of consciousness and the ones that were up, at least, over in the direction of Blake. Having clearly missed something amidst his own state of unconsciousness, Sam tried tuning into what the others were talking about. Patricia's aggravated barking seemed to point to them being kidnapped as a whole. Furthermore, that Eliza and Grace were hostages of sorts.

Somehow, it didn't come to him as a surprise that they were attacked during the party. It was meant to be a happy occasion, and with it taking place at Blake's home, there was no reason to suspect anyone of treachery. That was how they were able to execute it so effectively. As they clearly weren't dead, it meant that their captor had some sort of purpose for them. Considering there were captives that were specifically known, the objective would have been to find them.

The giant's shoulders seemed to go back to their normal calm as he made way to the developing group. As he did, he looked around to notice the cicular archetecture among the dated structures, able to put together that they were roman. What was more, going by the amount of daylight and the rough position of the sun, it was midway through the morning...Which meant it was likely a quick transportation from Blake's house to their current location.

It was like a punch to the face. The metallic gut-wrenching smell of...His eyes turned to the scent and his eyes narrowed to get a clearer picture from the distance; Ogres. While Rumi's recalled analysis may not sound so intimidating, Sam could tell with his enhanced vision that a group of that size wouldn't be ideal to confront head on.

Even still, he eyed the new guy, Alpha, taking steps in that direction. Kanati placed a hand on his shoulder to discourage him from taking the action. "It might not be a wise course of action. We have a bit of time to at least decide what direction we are going. Mindlessly fighting isn't going to get us out of here."

Sam took in a breath and looked towards the others, then to the ogres gaining traction. His mind ran a mile a minute. "Actually, to the contrary, some of us aren't exactly in battle condition to be splitting up. It would be of no use if we are having to save each other in this foreign environment. If we do, we should diverge into two groups at most and pick two destinations."

《 H. E. R. O. 》

<sub>Location
|| Passenger Island ||

Time
|| Evening ||

Interactions
|| @KaijuBaragon ||

| Theme |</sub>

---

The Fourth of July; the celebratory day of American independence. Samson was long familiar with this explosive day. If he was honest, it was among his least favorite holidays. Not because of the patriotism, or most of the festivities. No, it was the night's end that proved troublesome for him. While it was entertaining to see the fireworks, the sound was what ate at him. Ever since a child, he would have to be careful where he was on this night because of the curse of his hearing. Otherwise, he'd become nearly deaf for the following few days.

Other than that, the eventfulness of the day often worked out in his favor. Kept him out of the house. Away from the lackluster thoughts that he always ran from. Therefore, in spite his wariness of colorful explosives, Sam was here in the Von Brandt household. He simply brought noise cancelling headphones to go with the earplugs he always wore. While he did manage to join in some of the shenannigans, he often found himself in a corner contently keeping watch of the chaos when the party took a turn for the drunk.

Though, when that got old and Grace started pulling out fireworks, he took to exploring; finding that Blake and his father had quite the guitar collection in the basement. Naturally, he was inclined to try a few out. At that point, he sort of lost himself in playing. He played along to some of the party music that he could hear upstairs, then just songs off the top of his head that he felt were fitting.

While he was down there, he noticed a bottle of whiskey and smiled a little. It reminded him of his good friend Zee, all those months ago. He didn't hear much from him now though, after the Gugliano mission. Though having sent him to his step-father for guidance, it was clear his friend would never be the same after that day...He was doing it again. Spoiling the fun by overthinking little things.

None of that today, was what he told himself. So, he decided that there was enough of being cooped up down here for the night and he went back up. Once up, the smell of alcohol was strong, though, the stumbly people made him smile in amusement. It only took a second to find those of his herd that he knew, taking notice of Brie and Will. It seemed all well and good, though his eyebrow twitched when B crashed to the floor. While impulse would have been to go check on her, she had William there and he could be rather territorial at times. So, the hunter would respect that and keep back for now.

With them being a little more drunk than he thought, he decided that staying up here would be the better idea. That way he'd be able to keep a closer eye on things before anyone got hurt too badly. He wouldn't parent it though, so he headed to the kitchen to grab snacks. Settling on a bag of ranch tortilla chips, Sam took a spot on the couch.

Eyeing Tom on the approach from outside, Sam waved to the gravity manipulator.

《 H. E. R. O. 》

<sub>Location
|| Brookside ||

Time
|| Midnight ||

Interactions
|| Co-Post With @Hitman ||</sub>

---

It was at a construction site, near the docks of Brookside. The night was cool and damp. There weren't that many people on this side of town at this time of night. All according to plan...Or, according to what the plan was supposed to be. It was only meant to be a raid. The cops were busy on the other side of town, and the storage containers were relatively unguarded thanks to having a man on the inside. No attention, meant no hero interference.

They’d declare this to be their turf, establish their gang amongst the others, and a new gang would be born, the Barbarians. It would’ve been the perfect plan...Except they didn’t account for one detail. That missing detail cost them everything.

Phillip ‘Vermin’ Reed, the head of this little operation. Mud covered the rugged man’s face and hands as he used them to weakly drag himself from the scene. Around him was only barely short of a massacre.

Weapons were tossed about randomly. Some taken apart, others broken, and some firearms that didn’t even have a chance to be fired. Bodies littered the ground and near the surrounding equipment. They were either unconscious, writhing in pain, or even completely paralyzed, staring around at their surroundings in shock from the ground.

The battle here, had already been had. Decided in the span of a few minutes. The Hood wasn’t supposed to be real. The guy was a urban legend; one of those creepy lasagnas or whatever the kids called them. The ghost of a hero killed by the Brookside streets. He was only supposed to be a story told to keep dumbass kids from doing shit they weren’t supposed to.

Reed was making a trail in the mud, both of his legs weren’t listening to him. He didn’t think they were broken, but he couldn’t feel them. What kind of freaky shit was this?

Closely behind him, drifted a hooded figure. The shadows clung to his body as his cloak swayed softly with the wind. If it weren’t for the glimmers of the moonlight between the clouds, he’d be almost impossible to see. Which worked fairly well to his advantage.

As he heard the ghastly shadow’s footsteps come closer, he recalled the stories of the past. Rumor had it that only those with the most dastardly of deeds was who he took away. Then, in turn, those taken would never be heard from again. While he went through a laundry list of the things he had done, he found himself suddenly pulled up from the ground. His legs limply hung underneath his torso as the man dare not struggle.

He stared into the void of darkness, only able to make out a vaguely brown-skinned nose and mouth.

“You’ve done a lot of things, Mister Reed. The streets call you Vermin because you’re a dirty slimeball whose willing to rat out his own to weasel in and out of trouble. Let’s put that to the test.” The Hood held Vermin by the wrist, to which the man quickly tried to shield his arm.

“Please! I have a family!” The man cried. It was hard to read the mannerisms of The Hood through his darkened features. Without warning, Vermin’s four right fingers snapped like crackers, breaking little bones he didn’t even know were in there, causing the man to squeal in pain.

“Spare me the lies. You sold them out a long time ago, just like you do everyone else.” The man didn’t protest, but merely growled, foiled. All the while, The Hood pulled a bronze pendant from his pocket with an embezzled double-star on it.

“You’ve seen it before. I want the name that goes with it.” Police sirens were slowly fading into the area. The Hood seemed to snarl under his breath. “If you want your limbs working proper when you go to jail, you’ll talk quickly.”

Vermin weighed his options. “They call ‘im the Red Baron. Scary guy; works in the sneaky corners of Kingsdale. Rumor has it he works for one of the rich fucks living up there. Wherever that trinket is found, bodies are close by.” The Hood let his body slump to the ground and he clenched his eyes shut, as if waiting for more things to be broken.

“Come on man! That’s all I know. I’ll go with the pigs! Just don’t make me disappear!” He pleaded one last time, but when he opened his eyes, the guy was gone. Nowhere to be seen. Yet, he heard the police sirens getting louder, and he slouched to the ground with a small sigh.

Well, looks like the rumors were true. Ya learn something new every day.

---

On a rooftop overlooking the scene was where The Hood had vanished to, walking off with the newly acquired info surrounding this Red Baron. Just the thought of the guy made his blood boil, more than it already had. The fact that he apparently had business with Kingsdale made the search window much smaller, but it didn’t make it any easier. Background checking through all the names would take forever, but he’d do it if he had to….He owed it to them.

Standing at the edge of the rooftop was the tall, muscled, unmistakable silhouette of Hugo Powers. He was standing precariously on the eaves of the apartment building, clad in a formal black suit, his shirt unbuttoned, showing the edges of a tattoo and a gold necklace with a locket on the end dangling there loosely. His arms were folded over his chest, his deep brown eyes finding their way over to the Hood. He stood there silently for a few moments, contemplating his words, before eventually speaking.

”So you’re the one that calls himself the Hood, then? It’s nice to be able to meet you. In the flesh.”

The Hood stopped, unnerved that he let his thoughts get in the way of monitoring his surroundings. His head turned in the direction of the ever so famous Hugo Powers of the HERO organization. There were many mixed emotions over seeing this man. Rage nestled with silent admiration, and disappointment with a familial sense of respect. However, The Hood couldn’t let his past lack of action see the man in a more favorable light.

“What do you want…?”

”I think it’s pretty obvious what I want, vigilante. Or should I call you Zhaire? Zy?” Powers watched Zhaire closely, his large figure looming over Zhaire, who was tall in it of itself. ”I’ve seen your capabilities. I’ve seen what you can do. I want you to come to HERO.” He tapped his foot, arms still crossed. ”I want you go to down the right path.”

Zhaire bit the inside of his cheeks upon hearing his own name. Figures the man would know who he was. Something told him that he wouldn’t have popped up here for nothing. He’d save the runaround of pretending not to be the vigilante for someone else. Thus, Zy pulled the hood from his head, brown eyes piercing into those dark ass sunglasses. How blunt Hugo was about it kind of took him aback, but he didn’t show it much.

”The ‘right path’ huh?” The younger man scoffed. ”What has the right path done for me so far?”

Powers pursed his lips. ”You have reason to distrust me. I have made mistakes in the past. And I admire what you’ve set out to do. But right now what you’re doing is skirting the law. I’m giving you an opportunity to get out of this vigilante bullshit and help make a bigger impact.”

Zhaire crossed his arms in similar fashion, the two standing across in a mirror like fashion. Young and determined clashed with aged and experienced. He was right that Zy damn well had reason to mistrust him. He was also right that he was skirting the law, because to be frank, sometimes the law just didn’t get the job done.

Still, he’d want to avoid a direct confrontation with Hugo in the future. Perhaps it was the kid in him that still looked up to the war hero in some ways. With that, maybe he’d be able to get more information related to his search for the Red Baron.

”For the sake of blood, and the people of these streets, we’ll play it your way. But don’t get too comfortable.” Zhaire conceded, letting his arms drop for his features to be consumed once again beneath the cloak.

”I’m never comfortable,” Powers said expressionlessly, removing a piece of paper the size of an index card from his wallet and handing it to Zhaire. Written on it was a date written out, along with the address of Hero One, though anybody with half a brain could find their way there. ”I don’t intend for you to be putting on the spandex and repping HERO, but I think that the two of us can make something work. Hopefully I’ll get to see more of you soon.” Powers turned away, looking over his shoulder again at Zhaire.

”I’ve missed you, kiddo,” he added, his voice softening for a moment to accommodate a gentle tone, before he turned back forwards and jumped off the building. There was no impact sound on the ground. Powers just vanished.

Zy watched him and his lips twitched a bit, but nothing more than that. How he managed to pull that off with his size, weight, and sunglasses in the middle of the god damn night, the grown boy would have to decipher another day. Still, he eyed the card handed to him, debating even after the verbal agreement. All he needed was a reason. If things somehow went sideways again because of Powers’ complacence, he’d leave The Hood no choice.

Zy gave the scene he left one more glance; watching the Brookside police swarm the area before he pulled the hood back over his head. Once again consumed and concealed by the comforts of darkness...

Another Take on the Zelda Formula

I'll throw some support into this. I wouldn't mind some Zelda taking up my time.

《 H. E. R. O. 》

<sub>Location
|| Watervale ||

Time
|| Evening ||

Interactions
|| Co-Post With @Hitman ||</sub>

---

As he neared the sounds, Kanati could begin picking out voices. Patricia, Tom, Grace...It seemed a lot of them were in here. From the muffled tones, he could make out that they were likely being chased. That was when he noticed the man at the end of the hall. Most men who were unarmed weren’t so confident in approaching him so boldly. It was clear that this man had some sort of abilities.

Whether he was sent up here or not didn’t much matter. His companions needed him, and he was an obstacle. When the man reached into his pocket, Sam’s immediate instinct was that he was trying for a gun. So, he pulled his tomahawk from his belt. However, instead of being met with bullets, he found himself using the small axe to deflect a thrown knife.

In that short amount of time, he felt a fist at his chin. While the blow stung, it didn’t seem to rattle him much. It was an indicator of some sort of superior strength. Kanati leaned backward with the momentum of the blow, and extended one of his legs to kick the man’s chest to create a brief pocket of distance. It was also to gauge how his opponent responded to damage. Enough force to knock him out, was all that was needed.

-

Sal stumbled back a bit, knocked off balance briefly by the kick, but he quickly grasped the wall to regain his footing, glaring at Kanati with annoyance. Apparently for the mobster, it was all fun and games until he got hurt. He balled up his fists, glaring at Kanati, before charging directly at the taller man, throwing punch after punch at Kanati. This was no longer an exposition for him; it was an all-out assault as he pounded at Kanati, brutally striking at the hunter relentlessly.

-

Kanati pulled up his paws, doing what he could to block the blows with his hands and forearms. Due to his size, though, some body blows managed to connect, but he could guess that this would result in minimal bruising. In the time that the gangster was taking to wale on him, it was clear that his fighting style was boxing. Which meant the obvious weakness to target…

Once another punch was thrown, Kanati grabbed his wrist and tugged the man aside, again using his own momentum against him. To further destabilize him, the giant shoved a heel into the side of Sal’s knee with the intent to break bone.

-

There was an audible crack as Kanati shattered Sal’s knee with ease; however, just as soon as it broke, there was a second, less audible snap as his knee sprang back into position like magic. His power having worked its course, Sal charged at Samson, aiming his shoulder directly at the larger man and thrusting forwards, ramming towards Samson at max speed.

-

Initially, the hunter moved past the direction in which the man had stumbled. It was then that Kanati felt a small explosion beneath his feet. Something told him it wasn't a good sign, and he quickened his pace down the hall. Yet, just as quickly, he heard footsteps. His head whipped back around and here came the man again. The first snap seemed to confirm the man’s incapability of moving anymore, yet, this was a clear indication of otherwise.

This one was healer, it seemed. While he could likely knock the man out, the healing factor would prove to delay him. With the uncertainty of his teammates’ fate in mind, he decided that he had to end this confrontation quickly. Taking the man’s running speed in mind, Kanati timed it.

Once about two paces away, he bounced on one foot up into the air and spun into a 360 back kick directly into the man’s shoulder. The power of the blow took advantage of Sal’s inertia, and knocked the Guigliano from his feet in a clothesline like fashion. However, in a display of speed, while the man’s feet were still in the air, Sam took hold of his ankle and tossed the mobster out of one of the large second story windows.

Although this attack from Kanati would leave most with destroyed collarbones, he took into account the healing factor. Thus, he needed to buy time to get moving again, and running he was toward the sound of the conflict.

Hopefully he wasn’t too late.