It had been a good day. One of those, go to the art gallery, eat a light lunch, see a movie, then walk home in the cold days. The art gallery had been intellectually stimulating, the lunch filling, the movie entertaining, and walk home was shaping up to be nice too. Nate's hand was held firmly in Quin's and they were laughing and talking about the day. As always, the New York streets were packed, and the redhead felt like she was swimming through a sea of people. It was easy when you had a parner though, and on they walked.

In the shadows of a nearby alleyway two brothers stood. Their names weren't important, and neither were their reasons for being there. They were the downtrodden, they were the people life had stepped on, stomped on, and spit on one too many times. They had nowhere to go, nowhere to live, and nothing left to live for outside each other. They were tired of it all though, the society that held them down, the city that had facilitated the society, and the people who perpetuated it.

They were going to fight back. That's why they'd picked this area. There were always people here, making their way from some upper-middle-class activity or another without a care for what was happening in the ghettos and the slums. They'd both seen what the little pill could do, and it had been so much easier to get their hands on it than they'd though. The news? Man, screw the news. Of course they'd show the sensationalized accounts of people who'd gone completely apeshit. The ones who destroyed everything in their path, and themselves.

It was terrifying. It was powerful. It was exactly what they'd wanted.

They'd taken the pills a few minutes before. The little ones with an M stamped in the middle, and now they were waiting. The drug hit the older brother first and a great shudder ran through his entire body, doubling him over at the waist. The shivers continued and the younger brother watched as fingers grew and bones seemingly began to rearranged themselves. Realization hit, and the younger brother began to laugh as the same thing started to happen to him.

On they walked, through the crowds, hands held tight and smiles plastered on their faces. Until a howl split the night, loud and low and eerie enough in the sea of humanity to cause momentary silence. A silence that deepened when the second howl joined the first.

"What the hell?" Quin said, trying to find the direction the howls originated from. "Is that a....."

The screaming started and someone yelled.

"WEREWOLVES!"

Date night was going splendidly. The art gallery had filled his mind with new ideas and inspirations he could not wait to put into action when he got back to the apartment. Lunch and a movie was a date standard for a reason as well, so by the time they were on their way back, he was content with how the day was going.

Contentness was a weird concept for him since coming to New York. Being content often meant something was about to happen, and the karmic forces in place did not disappoint this time. The first warning sign was a howl cutting through the evening, silencing the crowd on the sidewalk. The second was a scream breaking the new silence: "WEREWOLVES!"

Nate looked at Quin, who had obviously flipped the switched and entered detective mode, looking for the trouble. He had a respect for the police mentality; not many people could hear someone scream about danger and run in the direction of the scream.

Thankfully, this made it easier to find the source of trouble, since everyone else was running in the exact opposite direction. Sure enough, there stood two men, but not "men." The fur and claws betrayed them; however it happened, they certainly filled the "werewolf" bill. Calmly, he mentioned to Quin, "Whatever you do, I've got your back."

Much of what happened next depended on the variables. Was it safe to assume these were mutants? Were they rational or did rationale go by the wayside in this form? More importantly, did this increase their strength and speed? Nate had experience fighting assholes with knives, but most of those were normal humans and hand-to-hand was not Nate's expertise. He positioned his shadow in front of him, waiting for what came next.

As the crowd started to panic and clear, Quin could still hear the screams of the people unlucky enough to be at the mouth of the alley where the bests had emerged from. One cut out abruptly and her police instincts kicked in. There were too many people and too few of her to effectively control the crowd, so the only thing to do was go after the threat. The redhead could see them now, pouncing and ripping like monsters straight off the big screen. It was go time.

Assuming that someone in the crowd would call the police, Quin looked around for available resources about the time that Nate said he had her back. First instinct was procedural. He was a civilian and needed to get to safety. Then again, she was in street clothes and there were no other police in the area. Nate had fought a giant turkey and won, and he was well acquainted with his powers.

"Make sure that neither of them gets behind me." she said, then approached the closest car parked on the curb.

Most people don't realize that modern day cars are made more of plastic and rubber than anything else. The rubber was useless to Quin, but the plastic....she could use the plastic. Holding out her hand and concentrating for a moment, the police officer pulled plastic from both bumpers of the car and the plastic on the doors. Flecks of paint peeled off and fell to the ground in chips as the plastic molded itself to her chest and midriff...the places people always got clawed to death in movies, and then Quin was on her way.

The monsters were fast, faster than your average every day thug, and Quin suddenly wished she was one of the officers who carried a side arm with her all the time. Instead, she was going to have to rely on smarts and (hopefully) superior training.

"Stop! NYPD!" she shouted on approach, keeping both dogs in her sights. The first lifted a red tinged muzzle, its victim scrambling away as his attacker's attention was drawn away. The creature sniffed the air and snarled low, its brother moving to its side.

"So much for that idea." Quin muttered as the first wolf lowered itself into a crouch, soon after mimicked by its brother. "Hold off the second." Quin said, just as the first pounced.

It was big, bigger than her by several inches and as it approached, Quin focused, trusting Nate to keep the other off her. In the few seconds it took the beast to approach, Quin adjusted her stance and lowered her shoulder just as the collision occurred. Musky fur and muscle collided and from there it was easy for Quin to shift her weight and rotate her hips. Aikido was a discipline of karate geared towards people fighting larger opponents, like she was now, and the throw worked perfectly. Straight past her went the were, slamming into the car she'd borrowed the bumper from.

Quin turned and readied herself to fight, if this monster was anything like the ones in the movies it'd be back up soon.

Quin made no fuss about Nate volunteering himself for the fight. She knew he was capable, and in all honesty, two-on-one is more risky than two-on-two any day.

He had no hoodie like last time, so this was officially the moment where he had to give up a sense of anonymity. He could not fight these things with his fists, so it was officially time to publicly out himself as a mutant. "Clear out, people!" Safely under a bright lamppost, he formed a chest-high wall with his shadow and nudged shocked onlookers away. No need for potential casualties.

Nate cringed watching the first wolf make his charge toward Quin, only to watch her clear the beast over her shoulder and into a car. She enlisted him to take care of the second because she seemed noticeably capable of handling the first. "Got it." She was in her element, and he had no qualms having her take charge and command him.

The second made a break for Quin as she was launching his brethren. Keeping up with his appointed duties, he sent a pillar of shadow at the beast while it was in mid-leap, assuming it had no mutation allowing it to shift in mid-air. He was right, and the force knocked the wolf back through the air. It landed on its hands (or paws) and flipped back to its feet (or back paws.) It would not be taken down so easily.

They were fast, that was certain. As for strength, based on the collision with Quin, he was guessing they were comparable to your regular street thugs. Nate moved closer, putting himself between Quin and the second wolf, making sure to move into the next lamppost. His three goals were allowing Quin to focus on her target, keeping himself bathed in light and incapacitating his own target.

He kept waves of shadow circling around him, on guard as he kept his eyes locked with the crouching werewolf. "This fight doesn't have to happen," he warned on the off chance these things retained some logic, "but it's your move." He would have felt more at home with a saber in his hand, envying Noel, wherever she might be. He would have to make due with his shadows; they were his sword and shield, and if this fight was inevitable, he had no intention of yielding.

Nate seemed to be doing just fine handling his wolf-man, so Quin did her best to put him out of her mind. If he needed help, he'd ask for it. Until then, she had her hands full. Literally. After regaining its feet, the wolf had charged her again, this time throwing itself sideways just before colliding with the redhead and effectively making it impossible for her to execute another throw.

Twisting instead, Quin jumped, landing and lashing out with a foot and thanking the good Lord that she'd worn tennis shoes to accommodate the amount of walking they'd planned to do on their date night. The foot connected with the chest of the beast, and Quin grinned at the satisfying whoosh of air that left the creature's lungs. Until it grabbed her leg.

Crap. Oh crap. It was all she had time to think before the thing pulled her off her feet. The wolf was gasping, but as she landed on her back on the pavement, Quin's own breath was forced from her lungs. She had to think fast. The only thing at her disposal was the improvised vest. Trying to calm her breathing and shake off the stars in her vision, Quin moved her hand to her chest, concentrating. A moment later a sliver of plastic, sharp enough to be called a shiv in any prison was in her hand and jamming its way into the hand wrapped around her ankle.

Quin was rewarded with a savage roar and a free ankle. Rolling to her side she lashed out with a foot again, this time connecting hard with the side of the wolf's face. It staggered, and gave Quin time to continue her roll onto her feet. Her breath was easing and she had the advantage again as they faced off.

"Bring it." she panted, ready for the next pass as sirens started to sound in the distance.

Nate was no expert in the emotions of a wolf's howl, but there was no denying a cry of pain. Whatever was happening behind him, it reassured him that Quin was finding some success. He knew she was trained (far better than he was,) but a worried mind required proof. It allowed him to focus on his opponent.

This focus was important with the werewolf's attention now squarely on Nate. The beast charged at him, claws displayed, both ready to come down on Nate. A wall of shadow rose, spreading over Nate. The werewolf rapidly began clawing at the shadow-substance, leaving Nate feeling the distant sensation of his defenses tearing.

Not having any intention of seeing how much the shadow would take before buckling, he shot three bolts out of his shield. One passed by the beasts head, but the other two caught it in the chest and leg, sending it toppling through the air and colliding with the lamppost.

And then a terrifying thing happened. The light began to flicker, and he could feel his shadow reduced in size. He was not keen on relying on a light that could fade at any moment, so he backed toward the beam of another lamppost.

Not wanting to give the beast any reason to change his target, he did what one usually did with an angry beast or irrational person. "C'mon, I'm not scared of a mangy dog like you!"

The collision with the post did little to slow the beast down, that much was clear. The gap between the two was quickly closed and claws were rapidly swinging at him. He entered a pattern of summoning small shadow shields that would take a hit and dissipate and shadow lances that would either be dodged or provide a small knock back.

Regardless of his attacks, the werewolf was relentless, causing Nate to backtrack defensively, waiting for an opportunity for a counter. The silver lining of backpedaling was the distance it was putting between them and Quin's fight.

Nate was getting kind of far away, and Quin tried to keep track of him in her peripheral vision while she and her own monster circled. It was wary now, unsure of itself after two full-on assaults had left it even at best. Pausing, blood dripping from its injured hand, the wolf raised its head and howled towards the moon, causing a shiver to work its way up the redhead's spine. It looked at her, and charged.

This time, the collision was full on, and as she went down, Quin pulled her knees up, trying to plant the bottoms of her feet in the werewolf's belly so she could flip him.

It didn't work.

Either the wolf came down faster than she expected, or she moved slower, but Quin's knees ran into a large, furry rib-cage and stopped, and her back slammed into the ground. The monster wasn't that heavy, and not as strong as one would have expected. Things slowed down, almost to slow motion. Jaws snapped in her face, drool dripping down into her hair. Quin was yelling, and kicking, and suddenly her hand was around the thing's neck. Only...the neck was too thick.

Closer it got....closer to her face. Time slowed down more. Quin could feel the synthetics humming in the air. Calling to her, almost vibrating against her chest.

She concentrated. The plastics moved.

The wolf was muzzled.

It was surprised, and that was what Quin needed. Her knee came up again, and the pained whimper told Quin that the werewolves anatomy wasn't all that different from that of a normal human.

Up came the knee again, and Quin rolled the werewolf to the side.

Sirens, closer now. As the redhead panted and commandeered more plastics for police use, she glanced in Nate's direction. The plastic was wrapping itself around the hairy creature's hands, and once she was done she could help.

Nate took shadow boxing to a literal level, tossing shadowy fists at his target, the impact not doing much to the beast, who was relentless, keeping Nate on his toes. He was not fancying how much control wolfboy had over the encounter. Nate was losing too much ground, and only getting further away from Quin. He wanted a safe distance, but getting too far from his girlfriend and his backup was foolish. It was time for a change of strategy.

The creature was handling whatever his shadow could manage, and it was leading to a standstill thus far. It was very fast, but the blows were not overpowering and the apparent weight of the creature based on its collision with the lamppost was average. The only difference between it physically besides speed was the dangerous claws and fangs. The claws were long enough to puncture him but he doubted they would pierce his ribcage... maybe crack it, but cracked ribs healed, based on experience. The fangs... well, he would ideally avoid those.

So he took his last step backwards, bracing himself. Two shadows knocked the wolf's arms back briefly, providing the best opening he had.

Nate pushed off the ground, leaping forward, crossing his arms and aiming low. He landed a shoulder into the beast's stomach, knocking it off balance. It was not much, but it was a chance. He summoned a large wave of shadow from his feet to lift the wolf off the ground.

Before the attacker flew back, there was a flailing paw that made unfortunate contact. His nice shirt was going to be ruined now; the three slash-marks across his bicep and the right side of his chest could possibly be fixed by needle and thread, but the bloodstains caused by the gashes in those spots would be difficult to clean.

He was wounded, but it was shallow, so the worst he was dealing with was some bleeding and some searing pain. Thankfully, the wave managed to do its job, throwing the wolf backward. The shadow stuck with its target, driving him back the maximum distance Nate could muster. The attack concluded with the shadow driving him into the ground with as much force as he could manage.

Nate ran toward the target, trying to take advantage of the brief time the wolf would spend on his back. It was getting to its feet, staggering toward Nate, still on all fours. The collision with the ground was more effective than the first, leaving the wolf visibly hindered. Before it could get close enough to reach him, he poured his shadow over the wolf, binding it with shadows. He could feel the lean wolf trying to break free, and it was all Nate could do to reform the shadows that were being torn at.

The arms were bound, so the creature was struggling to get up to its feet. Nate could not spread his shadow so thin that it could cover the legs, lest it become easier to break. He would take two limbs in exchange for four any day. He shouted to Quin, hoping she was winning her struggle. "I've got him, but it might not last! How're you doing?" He would love to help his girlfriend, but at this point, it was all he could do to keep the werewolf from shattering its shadowbindings.

The wolf struggled against the plastic bonds around his writs, but they held and Quin nodded her head as she stood. He wasn't going anywhere, at least not for a while. Even strong humans had a tough time breaking the heavy-duty stuff, and car bumpers were quality. The sirens were even louder now, and if the redhead knew anything about police, they were a couple of blocks away.

Nate called to her, and Quin rose, making her way in his direction. The wolf he held was restrained, and her boyfriend looked to have everything under control. Red and blue lights reflected off buildings down the street and Quin grinned, digging in her purse for her badge. "They'll want to see this." she said, then frowned at the claw marks and blood on Nate's shirt.

"Is it deep?" she asked, still to adrenaline buzzed to play the hovering girlfriend. "I can have them all a wagon when they get here."

The cop car stopped, sirens still wailing and two officers emerged, weapons ready.

Holding her hands up, badge palmed where they could see, Quin shouted, "Officer Quincy Archer, the suspects are under control if you boys want to cart them off."

One of the patrolmen put up his gun and approached. "Quin?"

Quin grinned and nodded towards Nate, "Hiya Scott. He's with me. Took you guys long enough to get here."

The werewolf was still doing its best to fumble to its feet, but Nate was starting to refocus and get used to keeping it armless. Taking cautious steps, he moved closer and pressed his foot on the beast's back to keep it from getting far, not to mention keeping it stuck and unable to swing around and take a chunk of Nate's leg as a souvenir.

When Nate turned back to Quin, she had already pulled out her badge and shifted her focus to Nate's new wounds. They stung, but he lucked out; nothing major was nicked and the bleeding was not too bad. "The arm got it worse, but the chest is shallow, thankfully. Nothing too bad; I've lived through worse." The life of a street rat came with its own perils. He would just bandage himself up at the apartment.

His initial reaction to a police vehicle pulling up next to him with sirens blaring was an elevated pulse and heightened awareness (or paranoia.) Some things took longer to change than others. Reality returned quickly as he could still feel a body wriggling under his foot with an overwhelming desire to make him a meal.

It was rather impressive to see Quin in her element, taking charge and even teasing the responding officer, grinning. (You would swear she had not just invalidated a rampaging werewolf.) She claimed Nate, who was happy to be included as an ally to the cop with a gun. "Yup, that's me. I'm with her," he added, unable to keep a smirk from forming. "I'd appreciate help before a blinking light or something frees this guy." The thought gave Nate pause; he realized that he did not factor the possibility of a faulty lamppost into his plans.

There was a first time for everything, and for the first time, Nate thought, Thank God for the police.

And so, the Calvary arrived. It didn't take as long as expected for the officers to take their statements and get everything squared away. The conversation with her old pals on the beat had been nice, and Quin was sure the story would be circulating by the next day. Yup. She pretty much felt like a bad ass.

Nate swore he didn't need stitches, and most of the slashes from the werewolf's claws had stopped bleeding. Quin still wasn't convinced, but she supposed it was some kind of manly machismo thing. Battle scars were hot, or something like that.

"At any rate, let's get you home and clean you up. I've got some Neosporin at my place."

The police responded professionally, binding the arms and legs of the dangerous wolf. Based on the talk being tossed around, there were suspicions of the attack being the product of the street drug "M," a topic Nate would have to do more research on when he found the time.

Nate turned his focus back to Quin, nodding at her suggestion. "That should be just fine by me. 'Sides, I think I'd prefer being taken care of by my girlfriend-- who, I have to say, is a badass in her element." And she was; it was the first time Nate was able to see Quin apply her mutation in a fight, not to mention that hand-to-hand. It was safe to say Quin could kick Nate's butt in a fight.

With the scene wrapping up and the trouble passing, he offered his hand. "Ready to head home?"