[ismilealot]

The monsters limbs are no match for the enraged troll. But, it has never relied on them for feeding and it's rage at being denied it's freedom and it's food is palpable. The blood dripping from it's wounds begins flowing out, forming tentacles, gaping mouths appear all over it's body as the bloody tentacles reach for Johnny. The pain is exquisite as it arcs through him. And one of the maws appears on it's belly to take a bite from young, healthy, troll flesh brimming with energy.

[Imveros]

Johnny regains his feet and squares off against the beast. He was ready for the next wave of lashing blows, his enhanced physiology more than up to the task. The beast rears back and does something unexpected. It starts to tear off its own tentacles before Johnny's eyes. Has this thing finally lost it? Johnny looked forward with confusion and then with dread as the beasts wounds flowed out and up and the physical limbs were replaced with pulsing blood. Johnny brought his arms up to block the first blow and they passed right though him and out the other side. Blood burst forth from Johnny's nose. Another blow aimed at his arm, It lashed out with inhuman speed and it was obvious Johnny was beginning to tire as blood pours from his eyes and ears. Yet another attack comes,Johnny dodges to the side as the tendril rotates at a 90 degree angle and strikes him in the back. Johnny falls to a knee and coughs dark chunky blood onto the pavement. Johnny looks up at the creature with a look of contempt as the last tendril wraps around his neck as his flesh begins to darken and flake off as he slumps to the ground. He lies there motionless in a pool of his own blood, his chest haggardly rising and falling, as his body tries to stem the massive trauma

The creatures throws backs it newly formed maw and lets out a terrifying laugh as row upon row of newly formed impossibly sharp teeth gleam within. Eager to enjoy its newly won meal

[Csjarrat]

Feathers came-to on his back, staring at a mucky orange sky with every fibre of exposed skin screaming agony at him from the explosion of fire.
His broken ribcage tortured every breath, cough and retch as he tried to roll around to get a better view of what was happening; the sound of all-out war now dimming as half of his allies lay dead.
The scene was like something out of a nightmare, burning corpses lay scattered about and the enraged beast flaying huge daemonic tentacles at Johnny, one of the few left standing.
Sensing the incoming wave of magical attack on his badly beaten colleague, he summoned what strength he had left and attempted to dispel the beasts efforts

[Triskavanski]

Raven finally snaps, vomit thick in her mask.. Nothing new since the first day she met the beast. But it's probally going to be the last time. She had been preparing for this situation previously. though her attempts rushed and seemingly futiel, plagued by matrix trolls, and moments where time seemed to rush past her in a hurry. It was a simple, quick post... Detailing where the beasty was.

<<On Matrix Boards = Smiles.. The Ripper is here (Cords).For those who want to have revenge for their family lost, torn savagely limb from limb as this thing laughed and played.. come. Bring what you can to kill it.>>

It was a simple thing, that honestly she wasn't sure was even going to bring a single soul. When she was operating herself, this was one of her more common tactics. Get other people to do the work for her, get them to lay their life down for her as she reaped in the benefits.

She began walking closer to the beast and the circle, her mask was hard to breath in, and heavy on her brow. Nimbly she moved a hand to release it, letting it clatter to floor. What soy based product she did it dripped from her lips. The hot steamy mess warming her face slightly as the cold now bit at it. The acidic scent of her stomach acids tinged the air of copper, fecal matter, urine, ozone and burning flesh.

Her hand wiped that too from her mouth, as the other released her trusty pistol.from the hidden arm slide. The cool metal in her palm clicked, and she bolted towards the beast and body guard. He wasn't going to get out this that easily.. Not at all.

She remembered something about monsters.. That they always had a weak point, and they would always open it when they felt they had to.. Often it let them heal, or was their ultimate attack. Sometimes it was just something that they couldn't control. And she could see it now.. The Maw on the beast was her target.

She rushed forwards sliding into shoot at the beasty there, unleashing a spray of shots.

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena had already earned her pay for the night's work in the death of the girl, and some part of her was telling her to leave, that this was not her fight.  What was it to her that the creature lived?  This was not her neighborhood, frag, it was not even her city.  Her target had been the girl and she prided herself in killing only the target.  Only the target.  She turned her face away but stopped.  Arc is certainly injured and might be dead.  Her new friend, perhaps her only friend, had been prepared to die to kill this thing and Yelena owed her.  The human had not needed to pull Yelena Petrovna from the bugs that were eating her.  But she had.  She had not needed to do this thing at all.  But she had.  Yelena did not know why it mattered, but suddenly and surprisingly it did.

She turned back to the small square, only peripherally noticing the smells and the bodies.  She had honed her conscious mind to ignore such distractions.  Even the pain and agony of the act of breathing was shunted aside for the need to remain calm and take the shot.  She still had the Predator in her hand, and it almost brought her arm up of its own volition.  Yelena Petrovna knew that she had been born to kill, born with a talent few possessed.  Raising her pistol she squeezed the trigger.

[ismilealot]

Masquerades shock right in it's open maw twisted the monster back with a roar of pain. The monster was injured? Amid the already numerous wounds dripping blood it was hard to tell. But . . . . . . something about it felt . . . . . different. And then it moved over Johnny. And it's form changed again. To a creature of shadow and blood and nightmares.  http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/345/5/a/dota2_shadow_demon_by_biggreenpepper-d6xmlza.jpg  The dying troll would certainly power his next spell.

[SgtBoomCloud]

For a brief moment, Arc's world was nothing.  It was over for her, done.  And then the lifeless human body lying in the dirt, covered with burns, cuts, and scrapes, twitched and stirred into life.  She gasped for air raggedly, eyes blinking open as she tried to make sense of where she was.  And then the pain returned.  Gritting her teeth, she tried to shift from her laying back position, but it hurt too much. She could see the image of the demonic beast in the distance, anddespite her innate refusal to die, couldn't lift her arm up to grab a gun and fire at it.

Coughing up a bit of blood, the human's voice crackles into her transceiver to Yelena.

"...rrgh... sorry about..The bike..nnh...The bombs...frag that hoop..ugh.."". She coughed again as it took much more energy than she thought to even bust those out.

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena hears the message from Arc.  *The fragging bombs.*  Unexpected relief that her friend was still alive washed over her.  She checked where Arc was and decided to make the attempt.  She would need some instructions on how to arm and detonate them, but it was worth a shot.  She keyed her 'link.  <Arc.  Yelena Petrovna.  I am on way to get bombs.  Arm them and give me command to detonate.  I will be right there.>

[SgtBoomCloud]

The little human was most definitely skipping in and out of awareness from her lying state.  If and when the elf Yelena would spot her it was very apparent that she was a mess.  That being said. It was a little bit before Arc could responding, hitting her link mentally despite the consuming pain.

<<Mark{Jack-in-the-box} sent to Yelena>>

"...just chuck the bag and press the big red ARO button...nnh..ugh..."

[Csjarrat]

Feather's head hit the dirt, his helmet sploshing into a loose gravelly puddle as the effort of holding himself up became to much. Focussing on breathing through the pain was all he could do, his ancient body weak at the best of times, let alone after a hit like that.
Stay strong, get up, you must fight
Eagle's encouragement willed him to prop himself up on one agonizingly burnt hand. Whipping what mana he could out of its tortured and disrupted state, he channelled it into a healing spell, repairing a little of what damage had been wreaked upon him. His focus sharpening with the healing energies, he rattled out the signal to attack over his trodes;
<<ALL RECIPIENTS::>> Attack it, give it everything you possibly can, we have to stop it NOW!

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena shakes the blood from her eyes and gathers herself to run to Arc's side.  <Arc.  Yelena Petrovna.  I coming for bombs.  I need help to move Johnny from circle or he dies in explosion.  I need your help.  We can run together and drop bombs then drag troll from edge of circle.  Can you try this with Yelena?>

[ismilealot]

Feathers rallying cry helps the mages to focus, to bring their attentions to bear against the beast they came to kill. They gathered themselves and unleashed the storm of mana energy that was theirs to command. And from out of the shadows and the alleys came shots at the beast as the 'hood came together to slag this monster. And one mage. who's gift had never been combat, dragged Johnny out of the circle, and slapped two biopatches on him and began counterspelling  defending the others against the beasts attack. Johnny's vision came back for a moment to see Merlin standing above him. In moments it was all over, as the monster, imprisoned in this plane by the ritual circle, and severely weakened by the death of his protégé, is destroyed by the concerted onslaught of a rag-tag bunch of heroes.

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena saw the barrage of spells and bullets strike the monster and put it down.  She felt a surprising satisfaction that she had played a role in the destruction.  This was not her neighborhood, but it was Arc's.  Arc!  She mentally thumbed her 'link, <Arc.  Yelena.  Monster dead.  Deactivate bomb.  Tessa, I think Yelena Petrovna dying.  If I die you may keep bike as gift to only friend.  Thank you for saving life.>  After that, she rolls onto her back and removes one of her spare magazines for the Predator, exchanging it for the one currently in the weapon.  After this, she has no further mission objectives to focus on, no defense against the pain.  Her mind almost collapses under the agony.  The faces start to come in, the innocent, the guilty, all of them.  She easily dismisses those that deserved death at her hand, but the faces of the children are not so easy to forget.  The faces smile at her, welcoming her to death. 

But Yelena is not ready for death and struggles against it, against the long walk to nothing.  Her silent screams precede her into the darkness of a welcome unconsciousness.

[SgtBoomCloud]

Arc heard the message in her ear, followed by silence.  The finality of it made the girl struggle to move, the audible shouts of her pain heard from those nearby as she gave up.  Her body wasn't liking to the idea of moving, and verily made her regret it.  Coughing, she groaned and sent a reply.  "..nuh uh...you ain't dying on me..drag it...nnh...". Frankly, she wasn't even certain how she was going to walk away from this one...but she too saw the fight was over.  She held on, but with no response coming from the now unconscious elf, it was not long before the short human too blacked out, her survival instincts forcing her to rest...or shut down, take your pick.

[Csjarrat]

Feathers hauled himself to his knees, revelling in the relief of the counter-attack. Lightning bolts ionised the air around him, the tang of ozone and burnt flesh as welcome scents to him now as the open meadows he soared above in his eagle form, each gunshot sounding more sweet than the sound of laughter that haunted his waking hours since assensing the monstrosity.As his broken bones knitted together under the permanence of the heal spell, he dragged his aching, sore body to his feet and made for the wounded scattered about the ritual site as the mage team and gangers provided covering fire and distracted the beast.
He drew what mana the ambience could spare, healing and stabilising the horribly burned and disfigured bodies that lay in agonised poses where they fell.
It would take many a night before these mental images would allow Feathers to sleep soundly.