First there was darkness. Cold, slimy, complete darkness. Then there was panic, which led to struggling and an attempted scream the resulted in a mouthful of cold clay. Then there was more panic, more flailing, and less oxygen. Soon Twyla could no longer feel the slime, she couldn’t feel anything except the sensation that her head was getting lighter and that her eyes were rolling back in her head. Had she not been suffocating she would have excitedly heard Henri’s curses and felt her attacks as they landed on the monster. She would have been happy to note that the other girl’s hair was doing some damage, even if it wasn’t doing it fast enough to keep her conscious. She also would have been simply tickled to find that she was being pulled from the clutches of the monster by Gawain but Twyla noticed none of these things as the darkness settled in around her.

Twyla was out when Gawain finally managed to pull her away from the travel sized clay monster. With the force of his tugging they were both flung onto the ground. The girl’s body was limp like a rag doll and she lay unmoving on the packed earth until...

Next to Twyla’s face there was a sprinkler head. For some unexplained reason this little spout began to trickle water that soon turned into splashes of water that doused her face in very cold water. Rapid blinking was the first sign of life and then the girl tried to take in a gasp of air but her airways were blocked by something. She rolled onto her side and spat out the wad of clay, almost throwing up at the same time. There were lights in front of her eyes and Twyla was too dizzy to sit up or move her head. More water from the sprinkler head washed any remaining clay from her face as she laid on her side, gasping for breath and shaking–half from fear and half from oxygen deprivation.

With it’s first target rudely pulled away from it’s tentacle clutches, the mini Cthulhu turned on the closest female creature, it’s intent the same as before.

After Gawain had pulled Twyla out, the two fell to the ground. Henrietta’s arm was still stuck, but she was relieved to see her best friend’s face was no longer stuck in the clay. Taking a deep, relaxing breath, she smiled slightly. Sprinklers had turned on and her arm started to slide out of the muck. The creature saw Henri and used its makeshift arms to pull her near.

She was about shoulder-deep in the clay. Even tugging with all her might and flailing her hair around like knives, did not release the brunette. With Henrietta’s other arm, she grabbed the top of her shoulder and pulled. Nothing happened. Panic began to surface in the girl’s mind. I’m going to die. It’s going to smother me….

At some point, the creature managed to do another yank. Her entire face would’ve gone into the disgusting muck, but she turned her head slightly, but not slightly enough. Clay was starting to slide into her mouth. Henri tried coughing it back up, but it slid into her nose as well. She focused on making her hair cut at the thing and it would’ve continued to do so if the brunette hadn’t been starting to pass out.

Gawain was not strong. Well, he wasn't weak either, dammit, he was just more the agile, pulling-stunts-and-jumping-around kinda guy. Give the fact that half of him was Maya, it was better this way.
Except when he needed all his strength to pull someone out of a nasty heap of wet clay. An animated and evil one too.
Twyla stopped struggling, and Gawain kept cursing. Cursing wasn't supposed to make him stronger. That was up to the adrenaline rush. But it did make him seel helluva lot better.
When the clay finally released Twyla, they both stumbled back, and the blonde landed on top of him for the second time in ten minutes. Under other circumstances he would have had something witty to say about that.
So many lost chances, so little oxygen.

She didn't move. Gawain lay for a few seconds, gasping for air; broken and bruised ribs complained sharply against Bubblegum's dead weight on his chest. Rapunzel was still fighting. The girl had spirit.
Water. Cold water. Cough.
Twyla rolled off him, spitting clay, shaking, and all in all in a very bad shape.
Keep it together, kid.
No time. No friggin' time for pulling her away, not even for saying something to calm her down.
Gawain was down to curses he didn't even know he possessed.
Looking around, he say the backpack lying on the ground a couple of feet away, it's contents scattered all over the place. Fireworks.
I guess I just lost my mind.

What happened next was later somewhat foggy in Mirror's memories. The math was simple: small caliber firework plus lighter equals... well, fireworks. Same multiplied by said firework stuck into clay monster equals fireworks with lots of splattered wet clay.
He might or might not have yelled. In the few moments between the 'eat this' and the 'boom' the knight grabbed Rapunzel's arm, and pulled, not really caring if he caused pain - lesser evil and all that - and the hair seemed to get the idea, sneaking around his arm and shoulder, and pulling itself. By the time the fireworks went off, the brunette was on the ground, with Gawain on top (for a change), both girls and the boy covered in wet, slimy chunks of Mini Chtulhu.
Wet, slimy, and harmless.
Yay.

Verdigris watched as assailment after assailment was pushed back. Nothing they did seemed to disturb the monster, in fact it almost seemed amused by their efforts at times. But not now. A wing fell from its back and a mutant-sized body was flung across the park and through a window. All too soon other things were being thrown and morphing into smaller, comparatively, versions of the giant clay monster. She had time to spin towards Andrea’s cry and see her disappear under a squirming, writhing hunk of clay before her attention was drawn by her own little nightmare.

“Back off!”

There was no thought behind her cry, no logic. But a hell of a lot of feeling, and that’s what really counts. At least that was what she was thinking to herself as the monster began to envelope her. She fought back, she really did. And burn after burn from her flaming branches scorched the clay of what would be known as a torso on any human-like creature. The cling of clay around her legs was what finally brought her to earth, literally, and the 8foot beast landed on top of her, spilling the contents of the brazier on and around her.

There is something delicious about the smell of cooked meat. Not so much when you know that it is your own arm and that that searing pain you feel between elbow and wrist is a live coal sizzling its way into your skin and muscle. A roll of clay swished over the coal, extinguishing it, the pain continued however and Verdigris screamed, now as well as being crushed and the tentacles that were roving their way towards her face she seemed to have a hunk of charcoal embedded in her arm. ’I’ll have to get some of those pain killers from Andrea’ not a logical thought, but she had no time to meditate on it as the beast suctioned its way up her chest and around her neck. She filled her lungs with one large gulp of air before the darkness surrounded her.

It was not much of a first kiss- barring that swift peck in second grade from her maths buddy- it was wet and cold and the rippling of moist earth against her lips make her need to throw up. Thankfully one of the more forceful jet-sprinklers, the ones for watering large patches of grass in one go, was beside her. It lifted slightly out of the ground, but clogged with muck and clay, stopped at the face height of the clay smothered girl with green-tipped hair. A hissing stream shot from the nozzle and sprayed her right in the face, blasting away the large, wet lips and forcing the beast to hiss and splutter angrily as more and more of its body mushi-fied.

Spitting and coughing, Verdigris rolled onto her side and took a well desereved moment to throw up. What a waste of a good meal. The final wriggling appendages slipped from her body and with a gurgle the sprinkler rose to its proper waist-high-height and drenched the now standing Verdy. She let the water hit her, running in clay-mud rivulets down her face and clothes and across her burning arm. Raising the painful limb to her face she inspected the burn. A perfect crecent. An old moon. A ‘C’. She knew the name of her opponent, Cthulhu, and now, now she would never be able to forget.

Casting her eyes towards the huge monster who was now getting wetter and slipperier by the second she was pleased to see no more mini-me’s were sent her way. She stumbled her way to the sitting rock and paused for another moment to throw up again. This time it was merely burning stomach acid. Horrid. She glanced wildly around, trying to see that everyone was alright. This was her fault, she had called everyone together where Cthulhu could attack them with ease. What a foolish, foolish girl. Seeing her roommate, also covered in slushy clay Verdigris wobbled towards her.

“Are you alright? And has anyone seen Alchemist? We need to get out, past the treeline.”

The purple haired leader was not on his leading rock and Verdigris had a sick feeling, desperately hoping that he wasn’t buried somewhere in the ever-increasingly slimy muck. But she had her orders, and dammnit, she would obey. With a wobble and a pause to swallow back more clay-flavoured retchings she stumbled in the direction the captain captain had pointed. Pausing by her upturned brazier she scraped what she could of the hardly glowing embers back into it and continued her stubling to the re-grouping place of safety. An encouraging sprinkler chose that moment to spray her in the knee caps and she felt the last remaining illusions of driness and warmth seep away. She was cold. She was tired. And this monster sucked.


((OOC: I have been quite busy of late, and while I have been reading I may have skimmed something, gimme a yell if anything needs changing. V.))

Juka let out a cheer of victory as he spotted the man who seemed to like his anvils so very much splatter the reformed mini-Cthulu. It might not have been the big mother Cthulu, but at least it was something and not only that but Juka had had a hand in its defeat. That, and it poved that the Cthulus could be defeated. If the little ones could be destroyed then surely so could the big one. He waited a moment, just to be sure that it wasn't going to reform again and, seeing it remain a puddle of clay goo, let out another victorious cheer.

And then Juka came to the realization, rather abruptly and unpleanstly, that he wasn't out of danger yet, far from it. The mini cthulu that had formed and initialy attacked him was still alive and well and, more importantly, still trying to get at him. Now that it was on the ground, Juka felf fairly confident that he could merely float higher and be out of its range but that seemed the cowards way out and he would be damned if anyone was going to call him a coward. Besides, he had just leared that these bastards could be defeated and if Masochist Man could take out a mini-Cthulu then he'd be damned if he didn't figure out how to do the same.

Instead of flying away from the mini-Chtulu Juka charged it, anvils whirling as fast as they would go. He felt a momentary influx of terror as he looked into the mad mindless eyes of death, before the first of his anvils collided with the clay creature with an audible thud, followed by three more thuds. This time, however, instead of darting away to safety he kept his anvils spinning, repeatedly hitting the monster with them. Each collission compressed a small portion of the clay creature's body until it was little more than a puddle of clay goop on the ground. It didn't stand a chance against his frantic onslaught. There was, unfortunatly, one problem. Despite reducing it to an unrecognizable puddle, that puddle was still moving and still struggling to reform its body and Juka knew that this wasn't something that he could keep up forever.

"Massochist Man," Juka called out frantically, hoping that his voice carried over the din of the battle. "Can you do something about this and make it stay dead?" So intent upon his own little corner of the battle was he that he didn't know who else had managed to do permanent damage to the creatures. He could only pray that the man he had hit with his anvils both knew that he was the one Juka was calling, heard him, and was in a state in which he was able to respond.

Above Twyla’s oblivious form there was quite a lot of swearing, the sound of a scuffle, and a rather large pop(the pop came a bit later than the other noises). She reacted to none of these, her attention was focused on the white lights dancing in front of he eyes. There was a whole flock of them twirling in front of her pupils and for some reason she was very angry about this. But why? Why was she so angry with the glittering flashes? Twyla couldn’t quite remember, either that or she didn’t understand herself why seeing the lights made her so irate. As she lay there, shaking and gasping, she began swatting at her eyes in order to get the white glitter out.

Pop. Squelch. Thud. When chunks of slimy Cthulhu Jr. landed on her body Twyla shot up into a sitting position and tensed up, her head whipping around looking for the danger. This somehow agitated the annoying white lights and they came back with a vengeance. The girl took several deep breaths and this seemed to send them packing and it allowed her mind to start clearing itself of the fog that had started accumulating when she started losing consciousness.

Her mind almost clear of the cobwebs Twyla surveyed the clearing in the trees. First she noted that there was no more clay monsters in their neck of the woods–this didn’t make sense until she saw the colorful mud soaked wrapping of one of the fireworks. A small part of her felt a bit vindicated, her idea had proved to be a bit useful. Brown eyes then landed on her companions, both of whom were lying in a pile on the ground. This made the girl realize that she was also still sitting on the ground, and that she was getting very cold and very wet due to a sprinkler that was going off near where her head had been. Slowly, and without putting pressure on her bad wrist, Twyla eased herself onto her feet. The white lights seemed to be at bay for a while at least.

Walking over to the boy and the other girl she leaned over them and asked: “Do I want to know?” The smirk on her face was half-hearted when she looked down on the two, it seemed like none of them were in good shape anymore.

“But seriously, are you guys okay?” She asked loudly as she turned away in search of her first aide kit, it probably wouldn’t help much but it made her feel a heck of a lot better to have it. “Maybe we should...” She bit her lip, something she hadn’t done in what seemed like ages. “I don’t know what we should do...” She trailed off and her voice got quite. The bulky white box wasn’t too hard to spot and she brushed off the slimy clay from it’s surface before turning back to her comrades with a mixture of fear and worry plastered on every part of her face.

Henrietta began to cough. Clay came out of her mouth. She opened her eyes and saw that the boy was on top of her. Blushing, she said, “Thank you. You saved me, right?” For some reason, she felt very embarrassed. It may have had to do with the fact that she had never been so close to a boy, or that she had done something kind of stupid. “I shouldn’t have stuck my arm into that thing, huh?” Blinking, she realized water was hitting her. She then noticed that there were sprinklers on. “Um, I’m sorry, but can you get up? My ribs hurt. It’s also feeling a little moist down here.”

Twyla asked the two teenagers that were lying in a heap, if they were okay. Henrietta wasn’t sure if okay was the word. She hurt and was getting sick of all the nasty clay. She then asked the two if she wanted to know what they were doing. Henri laughed, embarrassed. "Don't worry. Nothing's going on." The blonde was up walking around now. Henri was glad she was able to stand now. It appeared that she was looking for something. Henri couldn’t think of what that would be. She seemed to be dazed either from pain or the lack of oxygen she had experienced.

Her friend must’ve found what she was looking for, because she came back over. She was carrying a white box-shaped thing. White box…First aid kit? Yeah, that’s what it was. Twyla looked very worried or frightened. She wasn’t sure which emotion it was. It may have been a combination of the two. Which was very understandable.

Now that she had time to take everything in, she realized that everyone was having a difficult time. Henri wished she could be of more help, but her hair could only do so much. Thinking of her hair reminded the brunette that she should probably check on it. Part of her was a little nervous. She wasn't sure why, but maybe she was afraid her hair had been ripped out. Either way, she would have to know at some point. She brought her hand up to touch it. It was very sticky from the clay, but it was getting cleaned off by the sprinklers. Henreitta let out a sigh of relief.

Cough. Wet clay. Cold water. Cough. More cough. Three different kinds of cough.

>>“Thank you. You saved me, right?... I shouldn’t have stuck my arm into that thing, huh? Um, I’m sorry, but can you get up? My ribs hurt. It’s also feeling a little moist down here.”

Gawain looked down at the girl, and a smirk crept back onto his face - it didn't do much except for moving the layers of mud and dirt around.

"Ya're welcome. Remind me to tell ya about the tar baby later."

Rolling onto his back, he panted for air; cold water soaked his clothes, but he was way past caring. Once you get dirty and wet, new amounts of dirt and water tend to feel less disturbing.

>>“Do I want to know?”

Looking up, he saw Twyla, hugging a first aid kit. Thank God, she can walk. She looked... well, she probably looked better than him.

>>“But seriously, are you guys okay?... Maybe we should... I don’t know what we should do...”

So much for time out. Back to saving the day.
Scrambling to his feet - somehow - Gawain tried his best to stand straight, despite every single part of him hurting and ribs making breathing a b***.

"It's okay, Twyla. We're fine. Are ya hurt?..."

Looking around, he saw all the chaos on the battlefield, and the rain of Chtulhu spawns.

"Damn, I though fire would do more damage." he frowned "All right, once again, ya two... let's get outta here. Soakin' this thing looks like the plan for the moment. Until it changes..." he pulled Henri up from the ground and made sure the girls were steady and ready to go "... let's flag a fire truck or somethin'."

Plans could wait. He only saw as far as getting the damsels out of harm's way.

Koga stirred almost immediately, but it took a while for his conciousness to catch up with his body, he was seeing wicked little clay birds. His eyes finally fluttered open and his mind reeled to make sense of where he was and why he felt like he had just been playing a game of freesbe and decided to play the part of the disk. oh yeah, this was what pain tasted like. He moved his arms and didn't feel like either were broken, his legs and spine and neck were all in tact...his body felt like it had been put through a ringer but other than that, he was ok. It was a Christmas Eve miracle, Or for those of you that don’t believe in such fluff, a series of coincidences that added up to a masterful run of beating the odds. The initial flying through the window seemed to at once deflate a lot of the forward motion while at the same time bruising and beating on half of his body, if he had been a certain other mutant then that would have been a wonderful boost in kinetic power as it was however it left him very sore. By the time his body got to the mattresses the momentum was halved and allowed him to not simply die on impact. After the impact his body simply crashed his heat packs were gone and with the front window broken it was getting more than chilly. And thus he would have been out of the game, if not for his violet headed ally.


”I like to go on a few dates before I hop into bed with someone, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”

Koga took the heat pack from Cafas.“Well, I think you are going to have to buy me dinner before you get passst a handssshake. And even then, you are going to have to fight the ladiessss for me.” He sat up with a groan. “ I’d asssk if it wasss over but I sssee the big clay bassstard is ssstill ssstanding.” He started to stand and planted a hand on Cafas’s shoulder and made his way up. He walked to the window and spoke over his shoulder. “Thanksss, for helping me. but we still have a giant to ssslay.”

His eyes fell on Saph, just as the man drowned the miniature monster. As if the group mutually slapped there foreheads, and realize that nature was already working on the problem at hand.

“We need more water…” still speaking to the only comrade in ear shot. “ He nodded toward the traffic control cutting off the incoming traffic. Four police cars and a big red fire engine. “ There are copsss, thisss time sssso we are going to either have to find a brave fire fighter or be really sssneaky.” Koga gingerly stepped over the window and took three steps into a jog before he realized the best his seemingly mostly broken body could offer was a fast walk. check please

O Come All Ye x-kids
we will be triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Cthulhu-…hem.
burn and then drown Him,
torn the clay of monsters;
O come, let us abhor Him,
O come, let us abhor Him,
O come, let us abhor Him,
Ct---hu----lhu .

Cafas walked with Koga out the window. |Apparently he still felt like fighting. He wasn't totally broken. Oh well, tough guy was formulating a plan. Apparently he felt like Hi-jacking a fireman now. Cafas followed his line of sight. Oh no, just a truck. Hadn't they just sacrificed a bus? Cafas took a moment to wonder as to the plan until he saw it for himself. The water. Plus the pressure would blow the monster apart to start with. He decided he would have some input on the matter. After all, he was involved. "Or we could just ask? Regardless I got dibs on the hose." Cafas kept up with ease. Ninja didn't seem so ninja-y anymore. Yup, getting thrown through a window did that to you. Cafas looked again at the truck. They were closer than he had thought. They were nearly on top of the road block. NYPD at its best.

'No sneaky necessary.'

Cafas jogged the last ten metres to get ahead and tapped the glass of the fire engine driver window. The man inside jumped nearly out of his skin. He had been watching the battle, not that one could see terribly much past the trees. The door opened to a puzzled look. "Sorry mate, we're commandeering this Vehicle for the safety of New York City." First the man looked puzzled some more. Then slightly scared as he got out, nodding vigorously. Mutant fear was not something they needed. Cafas switched on the water pump, lights and siren on the dash console. He unhooked the hose, unrolled enough to provide him good range of movement of the roof and climbed up the side of the vehicle.

'I am very very crazy.'

A police officer looked at him, then nodded and went back to work. See what asking got you? He leant down to be heard over the very high pitched siren. "Let's do this!" Cafas climbed back onto his feet and got his hand ready on the water release on the hose. It was one of those cool pull back lever ones from movies. Well at least it was easy to use.

'This had better bloody work.'

(Hey guys sorry for the close to each other posts but I am heading on vacation after tonight and didn't want to stick Cafas with nothing to do.)

~~"Or we could just ask? Regardless I got dibs on the hose."

“Asssking ssshowsss a lack of authority, we need that truck and if all they are going to contribute isss keeping people out, We get to tell them the city needsss more than a big red wet road block.”

Cafas jogged and Koga tried to jog, Cafas went a little faster, Koga put a hand on the hilt of his sword, he didn’t want to fight an innocent fireman just for the greater good. He ached. Oh how he ached. He tensed when the fireman got out of the truck, he thought Cafas was going to get it. He hobbled faster toward the pair and was astounded when the man was ready to give up one of his stations trucks.

“Hey?” Koga called to the man who was trying to get out of there. “I’d be a lot more ussseful up top, get usss clossse enough to hit it with water and then run for your life.” The man kept moving away but a stout fire fighter with an axe in his hands, rounded the corner of the truck.

The stout Irishman blurted out in a tone that said he was ready for battle and ticked at being stuck all the way over here replied

**“I’ll drive that truck for you boy. But I aint running and leaving it or you two behind. Get up there and start praying.”

“Thanksss!”

Koga moved up the side of the truck with ease and latched his toes and heels to the slick red metal and then he drew two of his swords. He stood to the right of Cafas and hoped that water beat clay on this one.

The fire truck went flying down the road and then took a wide turn, dippining into the wrong lane and heading at the beast from the side. The lights went off and in a booming Irish accent the firetruck’s bullhorn announced.

**“Its time to die! You ugly son of a gun!”

Koga grinned under his mask and readied himself for more pain. He was pretty sure they were going to die.

(I also apologise, but I'm too excited not to.)

'I hope to hell this works.

The veering of the fire truck was exerting a lot of force on Cafas. he grabbed a pole and held on for dear life. The pole was attached to the ladder. Luckily it didn't swing out. As they straightened out the sirens went off, as did the lights. The megaphone instead projected the voice of their gruff driver. Koga seemed ready to pounce. They were headed straight for the giant clay monster. Cafas let go of the ladder as the bumps of the park's terrain kicked in. Lowering his centre of gravity by crouching slightly he put his hand on the trigger handle. "Yippee ki-yay Mother#&%$er"

'We are so dead if this doesn't work.''

Alchemist pulled the lever and a jet of high powered water fired from the hose. The force of it almost knocked him off the truck. The impact of the stream on Cthulhu was actually rather effective. Cafas laughed they do in movies at how their plan is working. You know, right before it back fires. Clay washed down onto the ground and a dent appeared in the monster. Then however it turned its attention to the truck. That was less good. Cafas twitched a little as his eyes went from their previous victorious white to a shade of green reserved for the emotion known as terrified. He wasn't going to run away... Then Cthulhu did what any self respecting giant clay beast that was being fired upon. It struck back.

'Yup, dead.'

From under and behind the truck was lifted off the ground. The hose stayed spraying but wildly inaccurately. The lever, made of metal, was locked open as the bolt melted then reset rather rapidly.. Alchemist had it in one hand, the nearest stable object in his other. the truck luckily was better painted than the lever. However its ability to not do a front flip every time Cthulhu smashed his giant clay appendages into it left something to be desired. Cafas was engulfed in a spray of water and wind and a lot of spinning. Gravity seemed to be going many directions. With a rather wet thud and crunch it stopped. The brave fire-fighter who had been driving was out in no time. They had landed on the giant monster. Why was it they always ended up on it?

'Perhaps it simply wants a hug?'

Cafas decided to keep spraying at close quarters was a bad idea. He did what he could to turn off the hose, which mainly consisted of un-welding what he could and pushing the lever back to the off position. He dropped it as the final drops fell out and watched a wet clay tendril creep over the fire truck, then another, and another. the truck began sinking into the monster. It was absorbing it. Well, he supposed, it was big enough, why not. He was having none of that though. His leg was grabbed by a tendril as he was preparing to take his highly dizzy battered body out of there. As he hacked at it the piece of clay holding him with his sword, tying to avoid his own foot the roof of the truck started going under.

'Need a new idea.'

From behind him Cafas heard a very loud yell and spun, his foot breaking free of the wet clay as more rain pummelled down. The fire-fighter had his axe in hand. He swung it down hard at the tuck. At first Cafas didn't understand. Then he heard the sound of highly pressurised water hissing out of the water tank below their feet. He had a moment of brilliance when he realised what the fireman had just done. He'd punctured the store tank. Cthulhu was absorbing it. It was brilliance. The hissing stopped as clay finally covered the entire truck. C.J. nodded to the fireman, who seemed to be smiling at his own brilliance and having assisted them, and jumped. The slippery ride to the bottom of Cthulhu was gross. Clay all over his legs and still no better off for clothing. just a jacket and underwear.

'Time to leave'

He didn't look for Koga, he was sure the ninja had done something spectacular, he always seemed to. Instead he ran as best he could past flailing tentacles. The back of his head was met with a ball of wet clay before he could though. The crushing weight drove him down. He let go of the blade in his hand and it flew forward. He received a face full of mud and clay. Alchemist was not impressed. Furthermore the sprinklers that were near him hand all been clogged with Cthulhu tentacle. Lovely.

'Haha, I gotta lay off the grass, I'm suffocating on it...'

How did so much happen in a matter of minutes?

Masochist man... Had a strange ring to it... He heard Juka's voice on the return trip after seeing that his water works had been fairly effective... He knew that the more water the sprinklers saturated the Field with, the weaker the clay would get until it melted away into mud... Considering it was starting to rain even heavier, Saph figured this battle was almost over. That was a good thing; his legs were feeling wobbly, and every little ache, scratch, and miscellaneous pain that he had collected during this battle was complaining louder than ever.

The older mutant wiped blood from above his left eye again... At least the wound didn't seem to be bleeding as much... He had opted not to touch it, considering the fact that his hands were covered in mud. Saph finally made it over to Juka and his reforming foe, looking about quickly, and catching sight of a fire hydrant on the nearby street on the other side of the Minithulu... "Hit me with three, kid, and make it quick!" Thud, Thud, Thud. Tingle, Tingle, Tingle. He hopped right over the puddle, hobbled over to the hydrant, and poked it with one finger right on the rim. With a loud crack, and then the sound of pressurized water flowing into the grass, the side-lid of the hydrant popped off.

"Push it into the puddle!" He said to Juka, and then turned to witness Cafas getting slammed by another ball of clay... "Jesus, even with a firetruck rammed up its @#$, this thing doesn't quit!" He cursed, and started moving, talking as he hobbled. "Four this time, Dress boy!" He stumbled as he was hit this time, but forged on even as the thought that he might be pushing himself too far presented himself in the back of his head... His breath was labored as he reached the clay monster that had by now engulfed Cafas's upper half... He looked down and saw the sword at his feet; the Aussie must have dropped it when he was hit... Saph snatched it up, and turned the blade sideways, swinging to put all of his gathered force into a low, flat-bladed swat that sent clay flying everywhere... And thus, their general was saved... Saph, though, was dizzy... His vision went blurry as he dropped the blade in his hand and faltered, not even having the sense to ask Cafas if he was okay...

Saphirus's head met a muddy ground that, all of a sudden, felt strangely like a comfy pillow. Being in the presence of such a comfy pillow, his eyes snapped shut, and consciousness quickly slipped away, taking all of those little aches pains along with it.

Again and again Juka's anvils continued to collide with the mini Chthulu in front of him, ensuring that the creature would not soon return to its feet. And it seemed he was being quite successful with that plan of his as every time it tried to reform itself, another hit with an anvil would return it to its current amorphous gooey shape. One point for Juka and no points for evil clay monster clone. The only problem was that, despite his very best efforts, he simply couldn't do enough damage to ensure that the creature stayed down although with each hit it seemed to take more time to try and reform. Even if he technically could keep this up forever, he was certain that big Cthulu wouldn't let that happen. Sooner or later it would take notice of him and that could only end badly.

Finally is friendly masochistic savior returned to him with a demand to hit him with three of his anvils, a demand which Juka happily obeyed, giving as much force as he was able. And then he burst a fire hydrant, with rather impressive results, as the stream of water blasted into the glob of mini-Cthulu which finally stopped moving. A second command from Massochist Man to once again hit him with his anvils followed and once again Juka obeyed the command without question.

It was at this point that Juka became aware of the giant Cthulu absorbing the fire truck and the fact that Alchemist was in dire trouble. Deciding that his best course of action was to remain with Massochist Man in case he needed another anvil boost, Juka remained floating just above him, keeping an eye out for any wayward tentacles that tried to attack him or the man below him. What followed was a most impressive display of his ward cutting Cthulu and saving Alchemist from a rather nasty fate at the hands of the giant monster. Unfortunately, after the heroic act the savior fell to the ground, unconscious.

Had Juka been in full control of his bubble at this time, he simply would have de-bubbled and re-bubbled around the fallen Massochist and floated him to safety. As it was, however, not being able to get rid of his bubble he opted for the next best thing: remaining floating above him as a guard. Should any tentacles come too close, Juka would be there, anvils and all, to ensure that his new partner didn't become any more injured than he currently was. "I'm here to protect you, Massochist Man," Juka ensured him with a confidence that wasn't entirely felt and despite the fact that he didn't think his words could be heard.

For the second time that day Twyla was glad to hear that Henrietta could speak. If she could talk it meant she wasn’t dead or unconscious or something worse. Gawain could talk to. They were talking in coherent sentences and aside from maybe a few smallish non-fatal cuts neither of the kids on the ground were bleeding profusely, not that it really meant anything what they looked like on the outside considering the damage she assumed they had suffered to their torsos could have caused some internal bleeding. Twyla tried not to think about the possible injuries that her friends could have received that she couldn’t see–panic bubbled up inside her when she began listing all the injuries in her mind: ruptured organ, internal bleeding, shattered bones–she needed to focus on the things she could change.

Gawain probably caused more damage to himself when he shot up off the ground, ounce again his concern for everyone but himself was obvious when he asked her if she was hurt. “I’m fine.” She replied shortly, her tone was more quick than angry and it was because she was lying. In truth Twyla Ashby had never had to deal with a situation like this before and she wasn’t sure she was mature enough for it. What had she been thinking? She wasn’t brave enough to be there, she didn’t deserve the energy needed to save her not once but twice from the clay monster. It was crazy of her to think she’d be much help. Basically she was freaking out but was trying her hardest not to show it. What good was a sniveling whatever-she-was-here? Clutching the kit closer to her chest Twyla winced at the jolt in her wrist. “My wrist’s messed up.” She bent down and opened the white box to search for the splint she was sure was inside it.

“I’m only leaving if we’re all going.” She didn’t look up from methodically wrapping a bandage around her wrist. When Twyla was finished she stood up next to Henri and Gawain. “I don’t think that flagging down a fire truck will be necessary.” With her good arm she pointed at the large Cthulhu that was being doused in water from one of New York City’s fire vehicles.