S.L.I.C.E. {Game Thread/ Closed, Started}

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"This good?"

"It's fine." Zeke said casually, nodding and studying Lucas closely, "Is that magic or genetic? Hm..." He shook his head, waving his hand.

An elf was taking care of the illusion spells, for the most part. His pale skin, sunken eyes, and shaggy hair showed he had spent more than a few all nighters this week. He cast the spell on the Samael, who grumbled things about this being 'Dishonorable' and 'stupid'. Still, he went along with it, being the first to be disguised.

"Oh god, this is terrible!" Samael was looking at himself, his clothes had changed to jeans and a Packers jersey, his wings changed to that of a bat. His horns and tail were also evident.

"Why football."

"I'm from Minnesota, and this helps us keep track of eachother." The elf said, absentmindedly, casting the spell on some guy in CANSOFCOM gear, the only part that seemed to deviate from the norm was a black cross on his bicep.

A flash of light and the witch had been teleported elsewhere. Groups of people from the two very different divisions were gathering around two men; the heads of the aforementioned divisions. She walked over to them, joining the group and raised her hand if to ask something, but reconsidered. Illusions weren't her forte, divining was. The witch could try scrying the area but the military looking types had probably got a map of the place. It was absurd how useless she felt. She just stood their blankly waiting for an order while the elder brother morphed into something resembling a demon from old picture books for children. Something felt off about that appearance, like it should be something more horrible.

He was teleported and he heard what the D6 was saying about his Division. Simple brutes, eh? Well Haytham would show him. If these lot were just simple brutes, then they would simply charge into the building without any planning whatsoever and end up dead. Nice and simple like that. Immediately, he began to break rank and walked up to the head of D6. But on the way, he made sure that he was presentable and offloaded the pile of munitions he was carrying by the gathered crowd of D2 'grunts'. Seriously, even that was a mark on his honour. With every thought about it, he grew more angry.

What did this organisation have against military types? Of course, he was outclassed by magic, but that wasn't the point. An organisation like this needed to work as a team and putting others down wasn't good for morale. He rolled up this sleeves and sternly addressed the D6 head in a mock-British accent, "Sir, I must express my sincere distaste for the vulger terminology with which you have referred to myself and these fine gentlemen who will engage in glorious battle alongside me. Your remark is a stain upon my honor, sir, and I will have at you with fisticuffs on the morrow!"

"Is that magic or genetic? Hm..."

"Magic genetics maybe? I don't know," Lucas replied, he saw how the illusions would look, and confident that he would be able to recognize Will he began to look over the others.

There was a D2 soldier complaining in a mock British accent in a manner that he couldn't help but chuckle at. Maybe this place wouldn't be so terrible to work at after all. He saw Medea again, deciding that it would be stupid to hold a grudge against her, and in part still curious about her, he walked over to her.

"Hey, I think we got off on the wrong foot last time, so why don't we try again?" he said, not extending a hand since he knew she wouldn't shake it, "So are you the actual Medea from greek myth? I don't know what a greek accent sounds like but I don't think yours is one."

He was doing his best to be friendly again, although that approach had failed last time, still he was curious and her name was as good an ice breaker as any. He considered apologizing for Will, but then she might not have realized that he did that. Besides he was willing to bet her scars were a sore point if she covered them up, so it would be rude to bring up something relating to them. Besides if she decided to be an ice queen again he could always go talk to the amusing D2 fellow.

"Your remark is a stain upon my honor, sir, and I will have at you with fisticuffs on the morrow!"

Zeke stared into his eyes for a few seconds, before speaking,

"What blood type are you?" He looked around, noticing the witch, "You, line up for an Illusion spell or something. Does nobody here know how goddamn illusion spells work?"

The elf motioned for her to come over, casting something quick. The lack of change COULD'VE been considered insulting (only horns, a tail, and a jersey were added), but he really didn't care.

"That should work for now. If you want a different one, feel free to ask."

The witch watched as her skin turned red, the thought of what she looked like now made her skin crawl with disgust. It was foolish to think such a simple disguise could mislead the demons, they may look like demons, and they may walk like demons, yet they weren't. Something inside her doubted Zeke's plan, she knew they would be caught.

The were dressing themselves as mock turtle soup, those that wouldn't have known the difference wouldn't catch them out, but the experts would know that they were all brains and offal, not a hint of turtle in them.

"Hey, I think we got off on the wrong foot last time, so why don't we try again?" He said, "So are you the actual Medea from Greek myth? I don't know what a Greek accent sounds like but I don't think yours is one."

The witch shook her head, "I am Scottish, Medea is just a name, it can belong to more than one person." She replied.

"I am Scottish, Medea is just a name, it can belong to more than one person."

"Ok, had to be sure since I met Merlin just last night, so uh, how did you end up working for SLICE?" he asked, she was still making it rather difficult to carry on a conversation with her, but at least he was making more progress than he had in the elevator.

He considered how to improve his disguise, he had never seen a devil before, but he imagined they had clawed hands and yellow eyes, so he shifted to add those. He wondered if they would add a jersey to him with their illusions, after all he couldn't generate clothing.

When Will had gotten the illusion cast over him, he thought about approaching Lucas. He was a bit curious about how he looked with the horns and all that, but there was no mirrors around. However, he saw... her, talking to his brother. That damn witch from the elevator.

"Typical Lucas. I bet he's feeling bad for her because of the scars. It's so much like him I can't even get surprised over it." Well, he did not intend to go over to them then. The last time that happened; only a hour ago, actually, he had been hexed. He wasn't itching for that to happen again. Instead he went over to the one guy who had spoken in an odd, manner, as if he was from the 19th century England, only badly so.

"Clearly, we non-magic brutes should just do what we're told," he said. Because of his usual somewhat flat tone, he added. "I'm joking, by the way. And I am D6. But I'm not a wizard, and I can't cast spells, so clearly I'm one of these brutes as well. Size small." He made a motion right over the top of his head in order to show that he was referring to his height and build. He looked over at Lucas once more, making sure his brother didn't get himself cursed too much, before turning back to this strange man. He seemed to be of Middle Eastern decent, and his hair was oddly colored.

"Either way, I'm William Hale, nice to meet you." Will didn't offer his hand, but he smiled slightly. This guy seemed to be entertaining to be around, at least, and he didn't look like your usual D2 generic guy, which was a good thing.

"...Either way, I'm William Hale, nice to meet you."

Haytham just stood there, staring at this man who had the gall to ignore him. Fisticuffs or not, it just drove the point further. He scowled. Brutes or not, every member of a team should feel valued. He sighed and looked over to the pile of munitions, at least that was still there. However, he was broken out of his little slump by a little man who claimed to be a little soldier. Haytham's smile return and he stretched. Standing around here had its merits, but he was itching to get going, which was always the case for him. Haytham was a doer, not a thinker and he wasn't doing much 'doing' here. Nevertheless, a friendly face was always nice, even if the friendly face in question had forgot the notion of a handshake. In return, he gave a mock salute to the little soldier.

"Those who are about to die salute you." He said with a cheeky smile and brought his arm down, "Just call me Haytham."

"Those who are about to die salute you. Just call me Haytham."

"What the heck was the salute thing about? I don't think he was insulting me..." Will thought, but he nodded. "Call me Will then." Haytham seemed eager to get going, obviously he was used to this kind of thing. Or, at least ready for it. That was more than Will could say. Still, he felt a bit out in the open just staying there, all gathered around like a bunch of fools. They couldn't trick anyone if they were still gathered around like sheep when the demons arrived.

"So, we just wait around for them to give us the order to move?" he asked. "Seems counterproductive, doesn't it? Considering the demons might as well have realized we're here by now. Or devils. Or whatever it is."

"As long as it's not spirits," he added in his mind. His telekinesis probably couldn't affect spirits, though he had never met one, so he wasn't completely sure. Better to be on the safe side, and be wary of them. Will looked around, in order to check that no one had heard him speaking ill of the leaders. When he made sure none of them had reacted to it, he spoke again.

"Anyways, are you used to... this?"

"...Anyways, are you used to... this?"

Questions. A flurry of questions. Haytham came to the conclusion that this guy was pretty green. A number of the guys in D2 were rookies as well. Fresh from training and ready to take on the world. Or they hoped. He sighed, this kind of talk wasn't good for morale. However, keeping quiet about would just make things worst as well. He absent-mindedly got out one of the katar - Iqbal to be exact - and began to throw it up and down like one did with a ball, a few centimetre in in the air, catching it on the handle each time. He wondered whether he should reveal his heritage, leave it to Will to figure it out himself. After all, that was the fun option. Within a second, he had made up his mind. Though preoccupied with the little game with the dagger, he replied without much delay. This time, he was a little more relaxed, hiding the fact that he was growing impatient.

"Yeah, I've had my share of battles." He responded, then lowered his voice, "But enough about war stories. That was my little joke. The brutes always die to protect the mages," His smile turned into a mocking sneer, "It seems they are more important than us mere mortals. Fireballs are more effective that mortars, after all. No worries, Will. I'm sure we'll get through this anyway."

"Yeah, I've had my share of battles." He responded, then lowered his voice, "But enough about war stories. That was my little joke. The brutes always die to protect the mages," His smile turned into a mocking sneer, "It seems they are more important than us mere mortals. Fireballs are more effective that mortars, after all. No worries, Will. I'm sure we'll get through this anyway."

When Haytham spoke, Will felt even more anxious, but he kept a somewhat brave facade. After all, he was strong, and he had Lucas. It had to be fine, right? He shrugged, faking a calmness. It worked pretty well, as distant as his emotions already were.

"Yeah, I'm not that worried. Besides, I might not be a wizard," he stopped the katar in the air with telekinesis, and lifted it up higher up, before slowly lowering it, putting it in Haytham's hand, carefully, making sure not to alert or harm the other man. "but I still have some tricks. Most which includes breaking necks, tearing off limbs and making heads go boom. Sometimes even just throwing stuff. Basically, your common telekinesis, with a hint of pyrokinesis and a aftertaste of family curse." He said it with frank tone, but he figured it had to be obvious that he was joking this time. Right? It had to be obvious.

"Anyways, to get onto a different topic, how come your hair is like that? It's... unusual." Will wasn't too interested in Haytham's hair, but if he could shift the conversation over to something a bit more... happy, then he would gladly hear about it.

"Ok, had to be sure since I met Merlin just last night, so uh, how did you end up working for SLICE?" Lucas asked as he continued to morph his body further into what she assumed he thought a demon looked like, it still felt off to her.

The witch pondered how to answer the question, she did not quite now how she was found herself; all she remembered was the cave and pain, and then not being in the cave and in pain. They found her, the had taken her in and now she fought with them for her own cause.

"They found me, now I fight." She replied.

She saw the younger brother demonstrate his power to the man who had spoken to her on the ground floor of HQ, he had spoken up the the division head like he was a jester. However, now she had reason to believe that it had been Will who had made her hood fall. To act now would be too obvious, she would wait.

"They found me, now I fight."

"I see, in my case its more that they found my brother, and I went along to be sure he'd be safe," Lucas replied, he considered inquiring further, as her short answer made it seem as though she was hiding something, but then he noticed her watching Will.

"Speaking of Will, I want to apologize for how he pulled down your hood, since you hexed us and he did that why don't we call it even?" he extended a hand to shake, before remembering how well that had gone in the elevator, but left it hanging for a little longer before withdrawing it.

"..."Anyways, to get onto a different topic, how come your hair is like that? It's... unusual."

Haytham enjoyed the little show of abilities. Green he may be, but at least he wasn't useless. Haytham put the katar back in its scabbard. Why did they always comment on the hair? It wasn't like there was any horns in it or anything. While pondering on this, Haytham stroked it sheepishly. The question would come up sooner or later but it always left an impact. He smirked. He wasn't going to give in that easily to this little master of all sorts of kinesis. Maybe he was telepathic was well. However, Will still seemed a little distant. Nevertheless, he probably had his reasons, just like the scarred woman had.

He offered his hand to Will, "Come on! Have a guess. I'm not going to tell you that easily."

"Come on! Have a guess. I'm not going to tell you that easily."

Did this guy want a handshake? Was that why he offered his hand to him, because Will hadn't offered his hand to him before? Yes? No? Was he just gesturing with his hands, perhaps? "Social situations," Will thought. "They always brings up questions like this. Which is it?" He looked at the hand, awkwardly, before deciding to focus on what Haytham had said instead.

"Is this a guessing game?" Will looked closer at Haytham. Apart from the hair, he looked normal. The hair seemed to be moving, even though there were no breeze. And the color of the tips reminded him one of the people from the day before, a timid, white haired woman. However, Haytham's ears were different, and he wasn't pale, nor did he have pink eyes. So he was probably not the same kind. Still, considering he was D2, and not D6, and that his appearance didn't seem to be due to some sort of magic ability, the man being a half-something seemed to be the best guess.

"Are you half... something else than human?" Will finally asked, wondering if it would offend the other man. It could, being accused of not being fully human would offend a lot of people, probably. Not that he had ever asked anyone, it wasn't a question he could see coming up a lot.

"You heard the elf, move out."

While the majority of the two divisions took off, heading towards the distant warehouse, Lyra stood her ground. There was a reason she'd selected her gear so carefully, after all.

Dropping to the ground, the soldier set to work, setting up her binoculars, the rifle, and the extra magazines she'd brought along so that all were in easy reach. Going prone, she pressed the stock of the massive gun to her shoulder, her eye peering through the rifle's scope. "Wind speed about 2.3 meters per sec," she muttered as she adjusted her grip, doing her best to ready herself for the coming conflict.

"Are you half... something else than human?" Will finally asked.

Haytham grinned. Will was warm, but not hot. Inside however, Haytham was a little confused. The little soldier had just left him hanging. Just yet another socially-awkward person, perhaps? He then retracted the hand with a stretch and when on throwing the katar up and down again. However, this time a small, subtle plume of mist was conjured from nowhere and with the motions of the katar, was draw into a current that wrapped itself about his hand. Haytham thought that Will needed a hint, thought it would be fun to see what answers he would come up.

"Yes." He chuckled, "Question is: what exactly?"

"Yes." He chuckled, "Question is: what exactly?"

Will looked at the mist, had he been mistaken about the no magic thing? Or was this a hint to his origins? If it was, what kind of creature was connected to mist? Will didn't know. Haytham didn't seem to be any kind of being he knew of, but then again, his knowledge of such was very limited. It wasn't as if he knew much about myths in the first place, after all, he had never taken much of an interest in such. Not even after finding out some of them were real.

"I have no idea. At all." He smiled a bit, albeit for him, it was more of a smirk. Will put a hand on each side of his forehead, making it obvious that he was only pretending to try to read Haytham's mind. "Half tornado?"

D3 & D5

Everyone quickly ran to their hiding spots, though that proved to be slightly unnecessary. The fog the elf provided was good cover, but the rest who bothered might as well have been invisible.

Still... The men in the slow moving black minivan sensed something wrong. They were dressed in suits, wearing creepy animal masks. The one in the pig mask pulled out a rocket launcher, hanging out the window.

"Too foggy to see. The fucks with the we-" The near silent bullet removing everything above his jaw cut off the sentence, Pendragon yelled a standard "GO GO GO!" An angel flew to the hood of the van, stabbing a lance downward. It only managed to scare the dealers, making them swerve a bit.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
D2 & D6

Zeke stopped paying attention to the people talking, overlooking the illusion spells. When it seemed all were ready, Guerra spoke up.

"Men, ladies, inbetween, we've taken out the door man, fan out and find the best spot. When I give the signal, attack everyone not in a Jersey. Except the shapeshifter, of course." He nodded towards Lucas, and turned, walking towards the stadium.

The voice got louder, and he sounded like he was speaking through a megaphone. His Italian accent was heavy, and managed to annoy Zeke. The booth, where the ticketman was, was impossible to see into, merely a mess of blood and other gore that smelled terrible. Zeke offered a chuckle passing by.

The inside of the stadium was almost packed, the front especially. The speaker, the Italian demon, seemed middle aged and wore a Black and crimson suit. He seemed normal enough, pointed tail, slicked back black hair, his eyes were swirling purple voids filled with malice. Standard fair for a demon. Guerra took Lucas, Medea, Haythem, and Will. Zeke took everyone else, taking the back and exits. Guerra turned to his crowd when they neared the stage.

"Now." He simply muttered behind him, pulling out a pistol and cocking it. The noise made a nearby demon turn, but he got ventilated before he could complete the motion.

"FINALLY!" Zeke roared, closing his fist in the direction of a nearby demon, making him implode guts all over his friends suits.

Chaos followed

"Speaking of Will, I want to apologize for how he pulled down your hood, since you hexed us and he did that why don't we call it even?"

So it was him! The witch grimaced under her hood; now she knew for certain who had pulled that little prank on her, but what now? Eliminating the boy over what he thought was a jest was petty, but he had practically shamed her in public, revealing her withered facade to the rest of the demon hunters in the lobby. He made her look weak! She would think it over later, once this operation was over. It would give the witch something other to do then look at the blank walls of her sleeping quarters while she regained her strength after the ensuing battle.

She nodded a faux apology and walked over the head of division who was bellowing orders.

The witch did as Guerra had said and mingled with the crows of disgusting demons, waiting for the order to put them in as much pain as Abigor had to her.

"GO GO GO!"

Lars perked up as typical battle cries were cried and people began to die, and with good timing as well. He had been starting to nod off in his perch up in a tree, but it turned out that his hiding spot for sleeping was also a very practical vantage point and place to initiate his role in the fight.

The van rumbled past, with its driver clearly under stress. Lars stopped straddling the branch and hung both of his legs in the direction the shady van was heading. With a subtle 'hup', Lars popped himself off of the comfortable tree, hoping to high Heaven that he timed this correctly. His right hand gave off a sheen as magic molded into rather feral claws around it, and those claws pulled their weight as they gouged a proper handhold in one of the upper corners of the van. His other hand also began to form into another blade, this time much more singular and holistic. Lars began to saw through the back of the van, his serrated magic tearing back and forth, until the left door in the rear swung open.

"Yo." Lars gave a nonchalant nod of greeting, then proceeded to climb into the van, minimizing his exposure and grabbing the nearest thug, pulling the person towards him.

"Now."

It didn't take long till several demons were dead, they had been shot, one had exploded. Will hadn't expected it to be that sudden, and the realization of what he was going to do hit him like a cannonball to the head. However, this was no time to be emotional. On purpose or not, it was not the first time he killed, nor would it be the last. Without moving, he grabbed at the neck of one of the demons with his invisible limbs.

No Jersey, not Lucas, this one was an enemy. The telekinesis was connected to him mostly by touch, as that was how he determined stuff like weight, shape and size. So, even if the arms people could see was not moving, he still felt everything as if it had been those that applied pressure to the demon's neck. A soundless crack, and the demon fell down, dead. Killed, but he couldn't let it get to him. Not this time. If it hadn't been him, it would have been someone else. These people were the enemy. He wouldn't be able to sleep for a while, though, he would have felt like crying, but his mind was elsewhere.

He then did the same again. Will glanced around, trying to spot anyone who could harm him, and lifting one who was close enough to be a danger. Without much of a hesitation, he killed this one too, ripping of the limbs and its head as if it was going to attack him without if not. He had started shaking, but remained calm, even if he felt more like running away. The demons looked at him with huge eyes, thinking him to be some sort of violent monster. It wasn't so much an act of cruelty as it was a warning, but he knew they weren't mistaken.

"Lucas." He put one of the actual hands on Lucas' back. His brother hadn't moved yet, even if they had been told to start. Of course he hadn't. "Get moving. Don't just stand there." Lucas may have been braver than him, but that still didn't mean the older brother didn't need a bit of a push. Lucas was far from a violent person, after all. "They're the enemy, not humans." A demon not far from them lost its head, quite literally.

"Get moving. Don't just stand there."

Lucas had been hesitating, unsure of how to act, the devils, or at least these devils, were far more human in appearance than he had expected. But when Will spoke he shook his head to clear it and went to work, first glancing behind him to make sure he had Will well covered, his powers were strong but he doubted his brother would last long if the devils got too close to him.

The skin on his left arm rippled as it changed into a hard black carapace, it cracked and twitched wildly as it split, the bones in his hand seemed to pull free along with his fingers, forming into three long spider-like appendages. His thumb instead sprouted barbs and wriggled free of the rest of his hand, while his pinky receded into his twisting mess of limbs, disappearing entirely. He felt his mass redistribute to give his new visage more bulk, the materials of his body, flesh and bone and sinew, were more dense than normal people, something that gave him a surprising pool of mass to draw from.

He lashed out with his monstrous new appendage at the nearest devil, driving the spider-legs through its chest and eyes, the tentacle lashing out and wrapping around the throat of another, the hooked barbs digging deep as the tendril constricted around its throat. He felt his other arm start to shift and stopped it, he was giving up this much restraint already, instead he kept it held out to the side, shielding Will as best he could.

"Now."

Pandemonium. From the first shot chaos spread throughout the demon horde like wildfire; be it from the guns that were being fired off in the distance, the younger brother's telekinetic blasts or the elder's monstrously morphed maw, demons fell down dead, or rather exploded around her. What she had in mind for the deplorable demon's was something else entirely. All the witch did was look on through the ensuing chaos, decided what suffering to put these foul creatures though.

One thing was sure in her mind, death would not come quickly for them.

The witch waded through the sea of demons before she found a spot that put enough distance between her and the 'team'. Right now she felt that she wasn't psychically capable of her more exotic spells. She lamented that right not she was unable to turn the demons into something more pitiful en masse, during her lamentation a memory came back to her. Once when she had been visiting in wales she turned all wives of the small folk into sheep, like The Medea's aunt Circe, for one day the men in that village truly were "sheep shaggers".

She decided on something else though, straining but less so than her previous idea. Like in the elevator she would hex the demons, but on a grand scale and something a tad more interesting than having their lips sealed. After all, she wanted to hear everything they had to say about a certain demon.

The witch gathered together the commands for the hex; pain, suffering, agony. In the end it would be the demons begging her for relief, but no matter how the spell strained her, they would have to bring in on themselves. The air around her crackled with magic, until like an elastic band it sprung outward. She was at the epicenter of the magical tsunami, waves of demons falling over in pain, begging for death. As the hex continued it's journey through the sea of demons, the pain she had expected caught up with her. She was in as much control to not double over, but she was visibly wavering.

Holding herself she walked over to the closest demon, "Where's Abigor" She snarled.

"GO GO GO!"

Wait, what? Shit. The van began to swerve and two of the agents jumped onto the van.

John quickly dropped his mental facade and opened fire on the van, shooting the tires out. The van swerved further as two of the tires popped. A few of the incendiaries hit the engine causing smoke to bellow out of the bullet holes as the phosphorus found fuel. The van began to sway even further as another tire popped. The driver in his rush to escape then accidentally flipped the van.

The signal was given, and immediately Haytham disappeared behind a veil of mist, and began to open fire on the demon hordes with his AK-47. This mission seemed too simple, too clear cut. The demons themselves were going down easily. But Haytham himself cursed as he realised that he left that pile of munitions outside of the stadium. Just then, a demon took a chance and lunged at Haytham only for it to be impaled by a blessed katar. Haytham sighed again, now he was surrounded by demons. No room for thought, or to safely fire away from a distance. Then again, it always came down to melee combat anyway. He drew his second katar and somersaulted out of the crowd that was encroaching towards him, and landed back in the exact same spot, this time he spun his katars around like a whirlwind of blades, slicing the demons into little bits. Afterwards, he spotted the burnt woman and flipped over to her, whispering playfully, "You really want to hear words from a forked tongue?"

D2 & D6

The Demon hordes panicked, as demon hordes are wont to do when caught off guard. The one on stage however, simply looked annoyed. He sighed, with mild irritation before stepping off the stage and grabbing Guerra by the neck.

"You, care to tell me what you people are doin- Oof!" Guerra smirked, turning his arm into a sword and impaling the speaker. The illusion spell dropped, and he looked like Sauron with a desert eagle. Zeke raised his hand, a crimson symbol glowing brightly,

"Focus on the grunts, wretch!" Guerra happily did so, using his sword arm and pistol in unison.

"Where's Abigor"

A demon turned her head to the witch, before being distracting by the wild spinning of a misty man.

"Pretty." She got out, before straightening up, and ejecting scythes of blood from her forearms, Zeke giggling in the back of the stadium as she twirled with the grace of a drunken marionette.

A portal appeared in the middle of the stage, and demonic looking figures in kevlar ran out, strange black devices attached to their arms were swung around wildly, one fired and a random soldier exploded, too close to Zeke.

"Someone, get the damn soldiers!" Zeke yelled, Guerra too busy dealing with a mini horde hacking at his mid section, and his new puppet too far away to be of any use.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

D3 & D5

The men in the van were surprised by the entry of a man with magical swords, moreso when their van tipped over. All inside, including Lars, were having trouble getting out of the van, though three managed, a man in a cow mask, one in a chicken, and one with a basset hound mask swung ebony assault rifles around wildly, looking for targets.

"Too much mist, how many we lose?" dog man said, the chicken replying, "I dunno, 4? We're fucked..." Cow man released a shot into the woods, the angel with the lance falling off the tree.

"Eh, we can take em." he grinned, looking for his next target.

Something was happening, although Will couldn't currently see it. Lucas had stepped in front of him so he could protect Will, however, that limited Will's line of sight quite a bit. He stepped to the left, only to spot some sort of Portal, demons running out of it, wearing some sort of odd material. "Bulletproof or something?" If it was, then it wouldn't stop what he could do to them. And a lot of the demons that had been there before were suddenly in a world of pain from the looks of it. They were winning, it seemed, it would soon be over. However, his feeling of being atop suddenly disappeared, when they attacked.

The devils had a dark device on their arm, capable of making someone explode, which had happened to a poor guy not too far away from the guy in the purple clothes. Not even Lucas could survive such a things. He looked at the remains of the soldier who had been hit, and he kept staring for a short while, strangely and morbidly interested, as well as scared out of his mind. Could all of these do that? Was this what his powers looked to other people? Will wanted to grab Lucas and get out of there, but he felt paralyzed. What was he to do? He felt his mind realize where he was, in a death-trap, but he suddenly snapped out of it.

"Someone, get the damn soldiers!"

Without even considering what to do, he acted, his telekinetic hands surrounded a large bunch of them, about 15 or so. As a child grabbing a fly way too hard, he felt their bodies give into the pressure, bones cracking and blood flowing, intestines and skin and everything, as he crushed them. It was done in a short moment, but the sensation got to his stomach, and he cringed, sweat running from his forehead. He took a short break, just breathing, trying to be calm, before spotting any lone demons. At least he could just break their neck, simply. Will didn't need to look over to the bodies of the crushed demons to know it was a horrible sight. "They are the enemy." He told himself, trying to regain his calm. "And it was a swift and painless death."

He went over to using as much as his powers as he could on purpose, so that he could focus on something else entirely. It took his mind of stuff, forced him away from the situation at hand by limiting his attention.

He looked over at Lucas. His brother seemed to be doing okay, probably better than Will by this point. If Lucas had known what Will intended to do when he returned to the bedroom, which was to see if he could destroy the speaker that had awakened him, he would probably yell at him. That could get annoying. From the corner of his eye he could spot the witch and the half-tornado guy, they were talking, or something. He kept doing this, using his powers, but taking his mind of the situation by not acknowledging the parts he didn't want to.

To say that Lyra was unimpressed by her foes' choice in head-wear would be an understatement. Halloween masks? What, are these guys trying to make a fashion statement or something?

Still, even if their clothing was ridiculous, there was no denying their skills; they had taken down the angel without too much trouble, and odds were they weren't going to stop there. If they weren't dealt with, who knew how much damage they could deal to SLICE's ranks?

"Come on, come on," the solider muttered, pressing the stock of the rifle up to her shoulder and peering through the scope. "Show me what you can do, okay?"

Aiming through the roiling mists, Lyra lined up her crosshairs with the guy in the chicken mask, resting the dots on the thug's right shoulder. It'd be interesting, seeing if he could fight with one of his arms out of commission. Slowly exhaling, she squeezed down on the trigger...

BLAM

Lucas saw Will crush the group of demons, he knew the sight should horrify him, but strangely it didn't, he felt concern for Will, and how this might affect him, but no disgust, and his tangled mess of limbs continued to ward off the demons before him unflinching. God, what is wrong with me he thought, turning away from the mess and back towards the demons he was fighting.

They were keeping back now, beating back his outstretched limbs and staying just out of his reach, he glanced back at Will, unwilling to move away from him in the midst of all this chaos. Instead his limbs sunk back together, forming a black blobby mass where his arm would be, he felt even more mass flow into it from his torso, and even his other arm, before it exploded outwards, now forming a horrific maw.

The gnashing teeth closed on the first one, the mouth had no tastebuds or any way to swallow, so it crushed and tore before retching the demon's remains onto the ground before him, slinking back along the ground towards Lucas, seeming to sniff the air like a snake choosing who to bite next.

Will managed to ignore what was going on around him till he spotted something in the corner of his eye. It was a snake-like creature, completely black in color and with a large mouth. Seeing it snapped him out of the comfortable place of few emotions and apathy, making it impossible for him to ignore the creature. It was going towards Lucas, and in a second he grabbed it with his telekinesis ready to--- What the hell? It was connected to Lucas?!

"L-lucas? What the fuck is up with your arm?!" He instantly went back a few steps. His instincts still told him to crush the thing. Whatever it was, it had moved on its own, right? What was it? Lucas had shape-shifted his limbs into a number of strange or disturbing things, but this... Fuck. He looked around to see if any demons were closing in, or the likes, but he couldn't help but look back at that thing. Will wished he could revert back, unsee it. He went back even more. No way he was staying that close to Lucas, and he could have his back from over where that fucking thing couldn't reach him. Lucas' arm or not. He killed a demon that was getting close to Lucas, but more because he didn't want to see the arm do... whatever it did.

"I-I'll have your back from over here," he said, but it was obvious that he was freaked out. He tried to use telekinesis on a demon, but was too shaken by Lucas' arm to realize he had used pyrokinesis, before the devil started screaming and sobbing in pain and finally fell to the ground, his brain fried and his hair burned. That voice, even though there were other demons yelling, would probably not leave Will's mind for a while.

Shit, they got out of the van

John jumped back into cover and checked his rifle. There should only be three left. He reloaded to be safe and looked back out at the van. They had just shot an angel out of a tree. Was it really an angel though? Pity either way.

John quickly pulled his head back behind the tree and decided that the mist wasn't providing enough cover anymore. He created a miasma over himself, just enough to blur his features and make himself slightly less distinguishable from the tree he was hiding behind. He checked his rifle again and moved enough of himself out from behind the tree to open fire on the enemy survivors that had crawled out of the van. Then of course he opened fire on his enemy.

Lucas heard Will dart back away from him, crap I forgot how much Will hates snakes, dammit now I'll have to apologize to him, I'm an idiot he thought. Still his snake arm was effective, and ass it lashed forward to tear at another devil's legs, tearing a chunk out before retreating back to him, the devils circled him warily. His bulletproof vest sat more heavily on him now, he felt that if it were removed he might appear emaciated underneath from all the borrowed mass the arm was taking.

He considered glancing back at Will, but he could tell from the devils dying out there that he was still fine, and he doubted Will would appreciate him moving closer, given how his current arm had freaked him out. Still annoyed with himself over not thinking, and somewhat saddened by Will's reaction, he lashed out again, feelings of satisfaction as another devil fell accompanied by the worry that this carnage should be troubling him.

Lars loosened his feet from the ceiling, feeling gravity doing its work. He made a mental note to yell at the trigger-happy douche that flipped the van while he was in it. As he dropped to the ground, he looked around the van at the state of the other assailants, all of whom were either down and groaning or still and unconsciousness. He slipped out of the back of the van and inched forward behind three armed men who escaped and had begun chatting in a rather unprofessional manner.

"Eh, we can take em."

Lars couldn't fully restrain himself upon hearing this, and the result was a sharp outburst of laughter that quickly tapered off into a moderate cough. The three men whirled around at the outburst, bring their arms to bear as Lars recouped his lost advantage. The SLICE agent snatched Dog by the throat and hauled the man on his feet, positioning him towards Cow like a shield. As he held the masked ruffian off of the ground, Lars rotated his wrist forward and up, slowly wrapping around and cutting into the man's throat. This was his favorite part, when they realized their fate.

In the process of removing Dog, bullet fire rang out and scattered around the scene. Lars threw the asphyxiated man down and dashed behind the toppled van, moving his half-century self in the opposite direction of the speeding lead. He didn't care about removing the man if it meant he died in the process.

Wait, is that the same gun that shot the van d--

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