Aaaah, There's blood EVERYWHERE!!111

[Jack Russell]

(Collab. effort with Deni and I.)

In the middle of the chaos, Arthur staggers backwards across the room, feeling for the nearest wall and feeling as if the room is increasing exponentially in size. Arthur… I can see. Let me help guide you…

Color floods his mind's eye, and blurry images begin to form, quickly sharpening until Arthur can see the vicious conflict unfolding before them as clearly as he had seen the eighteen wheeler before it plowed into his father's car. Arthur stiffens in almost disbelief as he suddenly remembers what green looks like, and through Josh's eyes he can see himself go as still as something settling into rigor mortis. He could... see himself. Arthur'd never known what his adult face looked like, and it had been twenty-six years since he'd looked himself in the eye in the mirror.

With no words in his throat or in his mind, Arthur moves to the right as he moves to the left in Josh's line of sight. Hesitantly, he moves the other way, circling around Jack and Danny as they thrash on the floor. If it weren't for his empathy, he never would have known it were Jack and Danny at all. Arthur picks up his pace, moving in a staggering, stumbling gait, and as he gets closer to Josh he can see his own face, pinched tight with years of worry and the crest of grey frosted over his forehead.

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Giving another low growl of warning, Jack lashes out at transformed Danny to cuff him across the head, but the creature jerks away from him, seeking prey elsewhere. Before he can even move, Danny has pounced on Hector and proceeds to show no mercy. The scent of blood fills the air with the sour stench of vomit diluted with alcohol and thickened with what smells like salad dressing. Jack wrenches himself to his feet, gagging on the taste of the air in the room.

He manages to get upright just as Hector is sliced open and his insides, slick with blood, begin to slide out, the liquids in his body pouring out on the floor. Recollections of tearing people apart in his dreams come rushing back, and Jack gives an aggravated snarl, flexes his claws and lunging for Danny. I won't let you kill anyone like I did!

Rage being the impetus behind Danny's actions, he does not notice Jack's movements, going about his ravaging, and suddenly impact topples him over from the boy, and he growls.

Tumbling over, getting subsequently up to his feet, he stares at the opposing best and runs at him, snapping his jaws with the intentions to break the neck, or at least bite off parts of it. Blood drips between his fangs, and the taste of it causes an oddly pleasant feeling in his belly.

With a loud growl and a bark, he snaps his jaws at the other, droplets of blood and saliva flying this way and that, front claws going up in attempts to create gashes, anything to hurt the adversary.

The two crash back to the floor, and Jack howls as Danny's teeth roughly snag into his neck and scrape muscle, an artery severing and dark, hot blood spilling from the laceration and sliding down into his fur. Shit! It hurts and it's not closing fast enough, and tensing his arm Jack draws his hand back and cuffs his opponent hard across the jaw.

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

Josh raises an eyebrow as Veronica hurls into the trash bin. Ironically enough, she’d picked the biohazard disposal bin to empty the contents of her stomach into.

He crouches behind the defibrillator cart, motioning. “Hector, get over here. Jack can handle this.” And if he can’t, we’re all dead, right? The scientist in him was currently trying to figure out how Danny had acquired Jack’s abilities. Danny doesn’t acquire stuff unconsciously, right?

Then everything goes to hell, and Hector is literally disemboweled by Danny. “Oh my god…” Josh’s eyes widen in horror. Only his experiences in 2027 doing field surgery keep him from adding the contents of his stomach to Veronica’s. As the shock rolls over him, he loses track of the tranq needle, which drops amid the rubbish cluttering the room.

Josh drops to his knees on the ground next to Hector, and the pool of blood begins soaking through his lab coat almost immediately. “Oh, god, Hector… I…” What? There’s nothing I can do, the contents of your abdomen are lying on the floor? Tears start forming in his eyes. Hector didn’t deserve this. I shouldn’t have brought him here. It’s my fault… The worst part was that it wasn’t even Danny’s fault, and the younger boy would be no doubt sickened and disgusted with himself after he returned to normal.

Across the room, a spurt of blood lances up from Jack’s neck, and a howl echoes through the room. His teeth clench. Not Jack, too! He stands up and glares across the room, blood-and-tear streaked.

Josh throws a hand out, yanking Danny backwards off of Jack, and smashes him with bone-breaking force into the back wall.

Pick on someone your own size. Josh drives his mental voice into Danny’s wolfish mind.

[Veronica Devereux]

Once her puke fest was down, Veronica managed to hold her head up, her skin flushed and her eyes bloodshot. Moving her head slowly, her eyes scanned over the events that were unfolding in front of her. The main thing that caught her attention was Hector's organs sprawled out on the floor. The blood coupled with the nauseating smell that was being emitted from the trash can was enough to cause her head to hang low once more, the rest of her stomach acid being thrown up into the bin.

Clutching the sides of the bin tightly, the blonde's knuckles were slowly turning white as she fought back the urge to puke whatever left she could.A groan escaped her lips as she tried to speak to someone."Mmm...." Coughing, she held her arms over the bin, resting her head on her forearms."Joshie..." she coughed, her eyes closing only to shoot open seconds later."I feel like I'm dying.." she whimpered, her skin turning to a shade of beet red.

Pushing the bin away from her, Veronica crawled away from the blood and organs on the floor to a nearby chair, one that seemed to be too slippery to grip onto. Arm outstretched,her fingertips grazed over the back of the chair, enough of a moment to hoist herself up. The upper part of her body resting on the chair, the lower half rested on the floor, Veronica's hair was even more of a mess than earlier, locks sticking up every which way and that.

[Tempero]

Blood seeps down between his fangs and touches his tongue, slowly making its way down his throat as he gains renewed vigor from the taste. Opening his jaws for another bite, pain replaces pleasure as a powerful blow to the lower jaw makes his head snap to the side, his body wavering for a moment.

With a loud pop, he brings the jaw into place by swinging his head back to the other side, a wince of pain spreading across the lupine features. A growl and then his head comes forward with a considerate amount of force rapidly closing the jaws.

But, before he can rend any more flesh, something, some force, pulls him back, making his jaws snap together on air, and he rapidly slams into the wall, a loud yelp escaping his throat as his entire back erupts in agony. He seems to linger there for a few moments, and then slumps to the ground, still in pains. Slowly, he gets up on all fours again, and his head rises to look at this new threat. His focus changes and he growls loudly and menacingly.

<Pick on someone your own size.

The voice in his head goes by the instincts without notice, too advanced to be understood, but through the hazes of blood, pain, and rage, and somewhere deep under, far away from control, there is a small, faint response, the very essence of it plunged into suffering of all magnitudes.

...Josh...?

He finally recovers and goes into a full sprint, intending to end the life of this human. A few feet away from him, he jumps as powerfully as he can, jaws and claws readying for the impact, prepared to rend and tear as soon as he topples the human over, and even before that.

[Hector Vidal]

(( Sorry for the delay in posting. Catching up… ))

Hector is only vaguely aware of Josh attempting to explain the situation to his mom. It would be funny under other circumstances – specifically, circumstances that didn’t involve Duel of the Werewolves going on about thirty feet away.

> “Veronica, Hector, get into the next room. Don’t let Danny bite you!”

"And I’m supposed to stop him how exactly?" Hector blurts out the response without thought, utterly disoriented by all the action going on around him, rooted to the ground by fear. Then the two werewolves are fighting, and Josh is shouting, and then suddenly they aren’t and one of them is on top of him… and then they’re fighting again and he’s fallen down and he’s not sure why.

Oddly, it doesn’t hurt. The first slicing, tearing gash of Danny’s teeth had hurt, a lot, but that part went away almost immediately. Shock? Maybe. He’s shaking, and cold, and remembers reading somewhere that those are symptoms of shock.

Somehow, Danny isn’t attacking him any more… he’s not sure why… and while he’s still trying to get into the next room, his legs don’t seem to be paying any attention to him. After a while – and quite possibly not very long at all, as time seems to have stretched out strangely – he actually manages to look down at his legs. Maybe he can figure out what’s wrong with them, he figures. And they are covered in blood, he realizes… in fact, his pants are literally sodden with blood. And some kind of… gore. He’d dissected a frog once in his biology class, and it looked kind of like that… intestines, or something.

It takes him a little longer to make the obvious connection, and startlingly he doesn’t faint at the awareness that he’s looking at his own intestines, slashed into ribbons and spilling out of a gash in his abdomen. He does throw up, though. Or, rather, he retches, and sees a membrane twitch convulsively through the hole in his belly, and it occurs to him that he can’t throw up because his stomach is no longer connected to his mouth.

That thought makes him retch again.

By the time he recovers from that, he’s vaguely aware that he’s feeling better. The shivering has stopped, he’s no longer cold… he gets up into a kneeling position and his legs do what they’re supposed to. More importantly, his torso is no longer a torn-open sac of internal organs.

What the hell? Did I just hallucinate all that? But the werewolves are still at it, and the blood and… stuff… is still on the floor, and… no. That happened. He remembers Danny and Josh talking about regeneration before everything went crazy, though… Maybe that’s it… they’ve got some kind of regenerator-thingie they used on me? It sounds pretty outlandish, but given that he’s watching two werewolves wrestling while recovering from being attacked by animated dinosaurs, that’s hardly a reason to reject it out of hand.

He pokes uncertainly at his inexplicably intact stomach, at the tattered fringes of what used to be his shirt, at his blood-sodden pants.

> "Joshie... I feel like I'm dying.."

Veronica’s voice drags his attention back to the room, and he sees her crawling and disheveled not too far away. Dios mio… she looks terrible! A surge of testosterone gets him to his feet, and he’s startled to realize that, other than being a little tired, he feels fine. He crosses quickly over to her and slides a supporting arm under her shoulders. "Come on… I’ll get you out of here." He starts trying to get them both to the door.