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OPEN POST
 OPEN POST OVERFLOW + TEXTS + PROMPTS + PSLSPLOT IDEA GENERATORS: SCENARIO GENERATOR 1 |
| OPEN POST OVERFLOW + TEXTS + PROMPTS + PSLSPLOT IDEA GENERATORS: SCENARIO GENERATOR 1 |
~un conte d'ombres et de crépuscule~
While Jacob was semi-truthfully complained that everything from here on out would be boring, Edward and Bella were relieved that things finally calmed down. One by one, the vampire covens left and like dominoes, the world seemed to fall back into place. The Cullens returned to their their normal lives among Forks, easing back into society with a little more permanence for the time being. The Uley pack and Black pack entered a healing truce and resumed their lives in La Push, still intent on protecting their lands and the people of Forks from rouge vampires that may pose as threat. As for the humans, well… Charlie was and always would be Charlie. Who might even be getting married again in the future. Spring bloomed with everyone settling down into their little happy forevers.
Bella turned 21, chronologically (still eternally miffed she’d forever appear 18 while Edward remained 17), and Jacob turned 20… chronologically.
Happy birthday!
Have a god damn monster.
They didn’t know where it came from, didn’t know what it wanted. All they knew was that the vampires and werewolves at the gathering were suddenly overwhelmed by the stench of brimstone and blood. There was no warning, no detecting from a distance. It was simply and instantly there. Crawling through the group and sending Alice into a trance. But no future came. Only murky and muddy. She said something about a light like a solar eclipse, black in the center with pure white shining around it. Beyond that… nothing. Great. Just what they needed. (Well, Emmet and some of the wolves were a little stoked to finally get some action.) Unwilling to let whatever it was down off the mountain, the coven and packs split up, determined to find the source of the rancid air and end it.
As much as Jacob would have loved to go with Bella, and teased her about doing so, he knew Edward was already taking that reserved spot. Leaving Seth to Leah’s protection and partnership despite the younger wolf’s request to go with him, Jacob partnered with Quil. It… was not easy going. Normally they could use the scent to track and pinpoint the location of their target. But for whatever reason, this thing was everywhere. Not like “a shoulder rubbed to the tree here” and “it brushed past this a few minutes ago” sort. No, this was where some little shit dropped a stinkbomb in school and for weeks you smelled nothing but skunk and rot no matter where you were. It made his eyes water from the bite of it and he demanded that Quil stay close. There was something here that unnerved him.
It sliced through the odor.
Not the sickly sweet of vampires. But something as cool and fresh as the air atop a mountain on a clear, winter day, tinged with metal. Instantly he followed it, moving through the woods on silent feet. This he could track. Hushing Quil behind him, Jacob noiselessly crouched atop a stone, eyes moving to the clearing below.
A man?
What was a man doing here?
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Alec needs a distraction. Something to keep it's attention while he finishes it off.
This particular type of demon isn't extraordinarily intelligent, or at least the Clave hasn't encountered and recorded one that was in all their years of demon hunting. It's got excellent survival instincts, and an insatiable desire to consume anything that seems young and strong, whether animal or plant or man, which is part of what makes the hunt high enough priority that Alec is here from the opposite side of the continent, looking like a deeply uncomfortable city boy, dressed all in black as an unfortunate contrast to the saturated beauty of the forest and its rain-damp undergrowth. He suspects he might have been led out here on purpose, which is unsettling given that he hadn't started this with the assumption that the demon had the capacity to plan traps.
He has his bow out, with an arrow knocked and moving in regimented, sweeping arcs as he looks down the shaft of it and slowly crosses to the center of the clearing, waiting for the creature to reappear. It'll be hard to miss when it finally does arrange itself into physical form, appearing goat-like but emaciated and with charred skin, mouth constantly dripping for want of more food. Alec doesn't know who summoned it out of hell and into the world, but clearly all control over it has been lost if Nephilim need to come scrambling in to clean up the mess...
Unless, of course, the mess is the point.
That idea is also unsettling, and it's what's lingering in the back of his mind when his sweep turns him in just the right direction to spot Jacob at his perch on the stone. His eyes widen fractionally, clearly focused despite the distance between them (he'd activated his enhanced vision rune before starting the hunt), and only a lifetime of training stops him from loosing the arrow in surprise. "Shit," he blurts, the only other concession his body seems to make to his shock. A beat passes, and he talks his arms into lowering the bow enough that it's at least not pointed directly at the— werewolf? No. At that size... "Shifter?"
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That or he does know. And is deliberately ignoring them.
Either way, if this man stays here, he’s going to die. From whatever’s currently lurking on the mountain. Jacob’s eyes narrow as the stranger suddenly locates him. Great. And now they have this mess to deal with. He keeps an eye on the bow, ready to snap the air clean out of the air if the man lets it loose. Slowly rising from his crouch atop the rock, the massive wolf reveals his full height. They’ve been compared in both size, build, and height to horses and Jacob shows exactly why that comparison is made.
A snarl curls his lips and he slowly moves forward, dropping from the rock and landing in the clearing. Dagger like fangs gleam beneath a coating of saliva as he steps one paw in front of the other, advancing on the man. Growls vibrate through his throat and echo in the heat of his maw. Even though he’s lowered his bow, Jacob doesn’t trust him. He tries to gauge the man’s fear to see if charging him would make the stranger pass out. That way they could at least excuse his later stories as fabrications before he fell unconscious… Kind of the best they can hope for right now.
He mentions “shifter” and Jacob’s hackles rise, body twitching as a sharper snarl barks from his throat like a feral tear. Nope. He did not just hear that. Two instances of unknown supernaturals in one day is more than he wants to deal with.
Dammit.
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But also the shifter could be exactly what he needs to complete his mission here, since by himself he has not managed it so far. Putting aside that it's practically blasphemy as a Nephilim to seek help from a non-holy creature in the field, Alec is more pragmatic than others of his kind. The important thing is stopping the demon, and if his guess is correct, then the shifters haven't been able to do that even though the huge tracks across the forest floor (which now make a lot more sense) mark this as their home turf. They, he assumes, because unlike werewolves, shifters don't tend to be solitary creatures.
He doesn't go glancing around looking for others to confirm his theory, because instinct will not let him move his eyes off the snarling one in front of him, but now that he recognizes what he's dealing with, a new plan begins to form in his mind. He still has his speed and strength runes active if Jacob decides to lunge, but he doesn't want the risk of a fight when the threat that he's pretty certain they're both hunting is still out there.
He exhales through his nose, pointing his arrow the rest of the way to the ground and slowly letting the drawstring go lax from where he'd been holding it taut and ready to fire. It's a gamble, but he figures he needs to start somewhere, and there's something about the look in the shifter's human-like eyes that makes him think talking won't be a completely fruitless endeavor. "If you want the demon out of your territory, I'm the best chance you've got."
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Brown eyes linger on the man, sizing him up and noting one thing after another, trying to figure him out before offering anything else. That black mark on the side of his neck is impossible to miss, diving below the clothing and suggesting it definitely continues further down. Finally, he’s had enough and turns to face the man fully, muscles rippling under his coat. Best option is to just lunge at him, go for the jugular, and hope the man passes out from sheer tension.
Until that bow sinks.
Jacob’s ears, flattened before, slowly twitch in surprise as the drawstring slides along the arrow, releasing the tension. He’s lowering his weapon? Obviously. But for what? It’s unlikely it’s a trick from the look on the stranger’s face. Not that he wants to risk taking an arrow to the face or shoulder or wherever. But… the action just now is peaceful.
And then he starts to talk. A demon? Jacob wants to snort at that, but his own life stares him in the face. What if… what if everything’s true? The scent all over the mountain, Alice’s blurry vision, a white light around a black unknown. Damn it…
The wolf eases up from the crouch, ears lifting from the aggressive fold back to a normal stand. Snarls fade and Jacob merely peers at the man, tentatively relaxing his stance. Then steps forward, not aggressive, but more suggesting a willingness to listen.
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"You're having trouble tracking it, right? It can become incorporeal, turn into mist." In case Jacob didn't already know that, of course. Slowly enough that it won't seem threatening, Alec reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws a small, capped vial of viscous black liquid, which fits in the cradle of his palm. It's ichor from the creature—demon blood—and it's the way he'd manage to track it out to the middle of the forest here in the first place. Not that that's necessarily obvious, so he clarifies: "But I can find it with this, I just can't shoot it if it sees me coming."
Which is the subtlest way he can think up to tell Jacob that he needs someone to act as bait. Frankly, Alec has no idea whether this conversation would be more or less awkward if he wasn't the only one currently capable of speech in it.
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He keeps his eyes on the other man, but his ears swivel towards him again when he talks, focusing on the words. Mist? Yes, they’re having trouble tracking it and that would explain why. You can’t take down mist. Some smart-alec part of his mind suggests a vacuum cleaner and Jared tells him to shut up with the jokes. This is serious. Duh, of course it is. But being completely uptight isn’t going to help either! Sam tells them both to shut up and then instructs Jacob to get what he can from the stranger. One Alpha to another, so… He’s right.
For a few seconds, he eyes the vial, then snorts and walks off to the side. Jacob gives him a look which hopefully will tell him to stay (can you even convey that command in such a look?) before slipping around behind a large boulder. A minute later, a muscular young man walks back out from around the other side, barefoot and barechested and buttoning the fly of a frayed pair of jeans. “What makes you think we can’t handle this on our own?” he challenges, stopping beside a tree and watching the stranger with those same eyes that had been arresting him from the wolf’s face.
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Alec's brain shuts completely off for a solid five seconds in a row. "Um," he says, very helpfully. Then, "I, uh—" Shit. His brain reboots mercilessly late, and Alec's head jerks up so fast from where he had accidentally ("accidentally") been staring at Jacob's chest that there is the telltale quiet crack of a popped joint. Cool, cool. If the demon could swoop in and kill him right now, that'd be great. Alec's eyes close for a second as he visualizes grinding useless things like desire into dust and then setting them on fire, before re-centering.
He's on a mission, damn it. Head in the game. We, Jacob said, which at least is confirmation of what he'd suspected. "Unless you've got a lot of holy weapons stashed around here," he pinches the arrow where it's still loosely nocked in his bow with two fingers to gesture pointedly with it, waving it in a small circle through the air in a way that won't bring it back up to bear. "All you're going to do is snap at its heels until it starts to eat your youngest." He is, of course, presuming that there's anyone genuinely young in Jacob's pack, because who knows what age anyone is when you start getting involved with immortal species, but he figures it gets the point across.
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Intense as the situation is, he can’t help the small ego rub when the stranger goes obviously tongue-tied. Well that answers one unrelated question. Though there’s no denying that Jacob had been doing a few once overs when he first caught sight of the man. He keeps that in the back of his mind, more concerned with dealing with this threat than checking out a handsome man in the woods with a strange scent.
Jacob ‘winces’ a little at that soft ‘crack’ from the other side. Ooo, don’t break your neck, man. Might eliminate one weird end, but not so much the other, if what the guy’s been saying is true. A dark brow arcs upward as the man closes his eyes and the Quileute wonders if he’s trying to think, cool his libido, or planning to make a move.
And back to it. “Holy weapons?” His expression shifts to a “psh, are you for real” sort of look. Talking of demons and now holy weapons reminds him of those legends about crosses and garlic affecting vampires and silver being fatal to werewolves. Neither of which were in play here in Forks. Jacob glances down at the air the man indicates, but he doesn’t start or tense, showing he’s trusting the guy not to try and snipe a fast one at him. His eyes narrow hard at the mention of “your youngest” however. Taking that as a direct threat or warning to Renesmee and to Seth, both of whom he’s protective of.
“Might have trouble eating our youngest,” he notes, but his tone’s serious. “We can’t track it.” And gestures to the air. “Its scent’s everywhere. So how do we kill it?”
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He keeps his comments to himself for the time being, though. And not just because Jacob looks like... all of that (Alec is a mere mortal with eyes, okay.) Also because he's about to ask for help and he actually is, shockingly, capable of being diplomatic when the situation calls for it.
"Maybe your youngest can survive," he allows, after a moment to think (clear his head.) Because yeah, if the rest of Jacob's pack is as big as he is while shifted then they probably don't have that much to worry about, but. But. "But this forest borders on a town." The and humans can't defend themselves for crap goes politely unsaid. It's maybe a little cheap to aim so blatantly for the protective instincts of a shifter, of all supernatural creatures, but frankly it's the argument that would have worked on him too, so Alec doesn't exactly feel bad.
"I can track it with a Rune," he says instead of continuing down that ominous track, then moves to slide his bow all the way up his arm and over his head so he can strap it across his body, with the string against his chest. The arrow slips into the quiver peeking up over one of his shoulders. He assumes they've gotten past the threats portion of the evening, and it's better to work on a plan than catastrophize. He has no intention of failing his mission here. "And I can kill it. I just can't get the drop on it, it always smells the arrowheads coming."
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Yet.
His expression remains guarded as the other man goes for the diplomatic response. Well, nice to know this tattooed hunter with a wild story can be agreeable. There's a small part of Jacob that's glad for it; be a shame to chase off a guy who, lets be honest, is a perfect balance of hot and cute and cool.
Who just struck the sensitive spot.
"I'm gonna guess you didn't cause it to come here." Jacob scoffs a little, but it's more in rueful agreement. That was a cheap shot, putting the humans they border in the proverbial crosshairs. But it works to get the wolf moving.
He steps off the root he's been perched on and starts walking down towards Alec. Head slightly back, arms by his sides, muscles hardening and bouncing a little with each step. One of those cocky "I can take you" sort of swaggers, like a wolf approaching a dog a lot smaller than him. Once he's on level ground with the stranger, Jacob approaches him and stop about three feet from touching.
"All right." He lifts his arms in a slight shrug of an offering. "Not that I completely believe you." Caveating this next part up front. "What do you need me to do?" They can't pin it down thanks the smell being everywhere and Alec said it's capable of fading from sight anyways. But now they have to track it with a... rune, somehow distract it without getting killed, and then let Tall, Dark, and Handsome kill it from behind.
The rest of his pack and Sam had listened in and are now dispersing the information among the rest of the Uley pack and the Cullen's coven. Jacob doesn't feel the need to tell Alec this. "Track, distract, and kill, right?"
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The lack of belief is still a bit baffling to him, but then Alec grew up entrenched in Hunting: he never had a period where he lived as a normal human, so it's second nature for him to assume that anything's possible. And it doesn't matter whether or not Jacob buys it right now, because he's about to witness first hand what Alec is talking about.
Speaking of which, Alec reaches into his pocket to pull out a slim piece of metal slightly larger than a pen, tucking the vial between two fingers and holding it out of the way so he can use the object on his palm. The smell of burning skin fills the little clearing as, somehow, the thing (a stele) with no visible heat source causes his palm to sear in the shape of the symbol he draws there. The corner of Alec's mouth twitches slightly, but that's the only indication he gives that he can even feel anything happening.
"Might be better if none of you use your teeth. I don't know what demon ichor does to shifters, but it's toxic to humans who ingest it, so..." Best not to find out either way, is his current thought. He pockets his stele, fingers flexing around the rune that's now in the palm of his left hand, glowing like there are embers trapped beneath the skin. He rolls the vial of ichor he brought with him down to the center of it and exhales slowly.
He seems lost in thought for a moment, looking down at it, before his head twitches up and he swivels around enough to look to the north edge of the clearing. "That way. It's at a clearing with a creek running through it, there's two huge boulders stacked on top of each other there too." Someone (very strong) had to have done that intentionally, so he hopes that it's a landmark Jacob recognizes by description.
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Whether he believes the truth behind this or not, what Jacob does know is something’s not right on the mountain right now and if it’s a threat to the humans around them, if not also themselves, then they need to deal with it. Whatever it is. And if Alec knows about this demon… thing, then he’s listening.
Jacob quirks a brow again when the man pulls out… a pen. Seriously? There’s no paper around so his first thought is Alec’s about to write a note on his arm or hand or something. But instead, he starts to drag it over his skin. “What the--?” Jacob flinches back when the unmistakable scent of burning flesh hits his face. “Is that necessary for demons?” he growls, waving a hand in front of his face like it’ll do anything. Doesn’t. Ugh, that’s gagging. Not as bad as vampires, but it’s not a pleasant smell at all. Reminds him of the rumors about tough bikers who put out their cigarettes on people’s skin.
As for the comment about not using their teeth, Jacob’s expression flattens. “I don’t think you know how wolves work…” It’s not like they can shoot a gun or slash a sword in their mouths, man.
His attention’s drawn back to the glowing run on Alec’s palm, glancing up once towards the one on the man’s neck, then returns to his hand again. That… definitely doesn’t look normal. More than an few comments go flying in his head and he grimaces in annoyance. No, he doesn’t know what that is! …. No, he’s not going to ask him! It’s probably going to help so shut up!
Which is proven correctly when Alec suddenly twists around like the needle on a compass. Jacob’s seen that position before; any wolf knows it when they catch a trace of their prey. When Alec describes the place, however, Jacob doesn’t recognize it at first. But Sam does and instantly singles out Jared who’s working with Embry and are both near the area. Jacob tells Embry to be careful and stay behind cover until they know more. Neither the two wolves appreciate the idea of “hiding” from the enemy, but Sam and Jacob both confront them with ”Do you see it?”, which gets them to shut up. Rosalie is with them as well, so at least there’s a trio approaching the spot now.
Well… time to admit something of himself. “Two of my pack are already approaching the place. What do they need to know?”
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So with that in mind he starts off briskly in the direction he'd tracked the demon to with the unspoken expectation that Jacob will follow, unsure exactly of how far it is but hoping he can close the distance before too long after the two of Jacob's pack get there. The demon had been been feasting on fawn fresh from hibernation when he'd caught his glimpse with the tracking rune, so it probably won't flee immediately, especially since it won't instinctively view wolves as a deadly threat like it would a Nephilim, no matter how much bigger and faster they actually are.
"If they're as big as you are," He starts and then winces as soon as the words leave his mouth, since it absolutely sounds like much more of an innuendo than he'd intended but it's fine he's ploughing on, "it's probably not going to do much harm. It's about the size of a goat, should have animal level intelligence." Should... "Huge horns, and a jaw that can bite through tree trunks." Young trees, but that's still not nothing. There's a sudden pause, as Alec's bow catches on a low-hanging branch and makes him grunt and halt abruptly to avoid having it yanked off his shoulder—he is clearly not at home in the woods—but he resumes pace quickly, if slightly more cautiously now. "How old are they? Your, uh, pack. It feeds on anything young, that's what draws it out. Animal or plant."
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Not sure why Alec’s getting all tense again, Jacob lets the matter drop at that and focuses on keeping track of his two packmates and Rosalie as they near the area. He tells Quil to keep nearby but out of the need to stay able to communicate with the man, Jacob opts not to transform for now. He keeps up with Alec without a problem, instinctively knowing where to step and move to avoid landing on anything unwanted. It’d take more than stepping on a pinecone barefoot to puncture his skin, but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable to suddenly lose an inch in leg height.
Repeating his instructions for the other two wolves to not engage the creature even if they do see it, the message and location ripple through both Uley and Black packs, which then gets relayed verbally to the Cullens. One by one, the groups begin to converge on the location, staying slightly spread out so they can keep any attempts at fleeing in a “web” of sorts. Either to catch it or pursue it without losing the trail again.
Jacob just smirks at the comment and Alec’s wince. “Not all of them,” he retorts semi-under his breath, but enough for Alec to hear. Which can be taken as innocently or innuendo-ly as much as he likes. It’s been a while since Jacob had the chance to be a bit of a flirty shit with someone. “A goat?!” Hold on a second? This mountain-crawling threat that’s supposed to be a danger to them is a GOAT?! More than a few barks of laughter and irritation come through his mind at the information. He gets a number of mental images that are as disturbing as they are hilarious. Including a cartoony thing from Seth that ends up looking like a goat crossed with a beaver chewing on tree trunks. Nice one, Seth.
He pauses when Alec suddenly threatens to hang himself with his bow. Or dislocate his shoulder. Oh boy. “City slicker,” he murmurs in amusement. “Our youngest is around 16. Just phased about 4 weeks ago. He’s still adjusting.” As for animals and plants around… hell that can range anywhere from… a lot. Jacob abruptly catches Alec’s arm and stops him. Right before the log the man had almost stepped on gave way from the rot and plummeted down between the boulders. Yeah, definitely not a woodsman.
“How about you not mention this to anyone else, but it might be easier if you ride me.” Before he ends up breaking an ankle. Not that he doubts the man’s prowess, but they’re on a time schedule.
Shut up, guys! Not remotely what I meant!
Ugh. Bunch of young men. What’d you expect?
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As much as the Nephilim know about the supernatural world, meticulously gathered information from study and experimentation passed down through the generations of Shadowhunters, their numbers have dwindled enough over the last couple centuries that they simply can't keep active control over territories too far away from their last sizable base of operations all the way in New York City. It was only after the devastation had totally ended that they even found out anything had been happening in Seattle when the vampire army was forming, and all recent attempts to rebuild the old abandoned information networks on this side of the country to prevent any repeats of that terrible oversight have run into the tiny little issue of Nephilim having long ago alienated most supernatural species that are now actually populating the area by assigning themselves judge and jury and, importantly, executioners of the non-human world.
Not that Alec's generation was there for any of that, as quickly as Nephilim live and die in their line of work. In fact now a tenuous truce in NYC even keeps Shadowhunters and Vampires and all manner of other supernatural folk (warlocks and fae and shifters and etc) from coming to blows over anything but grievous threats to the human populous, so the Nephilim are left to deal mostly just with the demons that they were originally tasked to contain, by the Angels back in antiquity before the rest even came to light.
Which is why Alec is here following the one kind of creature he has any practical experience hunting, stumbling through the undergrowth and, oh. Getting stopped from eating shit by a very warm, very strong hand on his arm.
Damn. He never thought he'd miss the loud, dingy streets of NYC quite so much as he does right now: even Central Park is relatively easy to traverse he thinks, as he watches the log fall away and realizes how much tripping through it would have sucked.
Which is about the only thing that keeps him from spontaneously combusting at Jacob's suggestion. Out of a dwindling sense of self-preservation, he tries to force himself not to picture... anything, relating to the particular choice of words. He almost succeeds. It will probably haunt him later, when he's not in the middle of an emergency situation. "I— okay. Fine." That definitely came out squeakier than he meant for it to, but obviously they don't have time for him to figure out how to hike competently when a 16-year-old might be actively putting himself in a dangerous situation right now basically at Alec's insistence. He clears his throat. "You're going to change back?"
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(As for the sheer number of his backup, well… let’s just say that while many of their little alliance enjoy the quiet life, sometimes you miss the action.)
Perhaps it was telling by Jacob’s reaction to the possibility of a “demon” running around the mountain, but the vampires and werewolves out here weren’t aware of the Shadowhunters and their ilk. But perhaps they shouldn’t be surprised. With covens of their vampires ranging from the common two or three to the uncommon nine the Cullens possessed (among the largest), they are relatively spread wide apart and tiny. The most powerful coven, the Volturi, were equivalent to royalty in their vampire line, sitting pretty over there in Volterra, Italy and preferring the rest of their kind of vampires stay hidden and out of sight. The debacle in Seattle had likewise brought their attention and almost interference, but they opted to let it play out, knowing it would either wipe itself out or bring them some trophies of the vendetta. Who was the say the Shadowhunters and Volturi hadn’t accidentally crossed paths with each other once or so before, but merely continued on their way out of no recognizing who the others were. Jacob only knew of the vampires through what the Cullens told them, but since they were allies in two confrontations by now, they told them quite a lot. Enough Jacob was confident enough to talk to Alec about it if necessary.
Still doesn’t want their new ‘demon hunter’ to end up ingloriously busting a foot on an old log. Because if this thing really is as dangerous as Alec professed, Jacob wants his aid in getting rid of it before it seriously screws up anything else … Damn, and now he’s noticing the other man’s warmth and those strong muscles in his arm. He’s an archer, so obviously he must have good definition, but still… damn.
Jacob almost breaks into a laugh at that squeak of a response. Alec reminds him of a high-school girl with a crush. A comment that will go unsaid to prevent the man from losing more blood to his face (if that’s the only place it’s going right now…) He snorts at the question, looking at Alec like he just asked if the sky’s blue. “Would you rather piggyback?” Rhetorical question. But rather than risk an aneurysm, Jacob drops off the boulder their on and vanishes from sight behind a group of trees. It’s less than a minute later before the giant russet-colored wolf returns, a black strap around his back leg holding the pair of jeans tight. One jump and he’s up on the boulder with Alec, amber eyes watching him with the same sight as Jacob had a moment ago. Then crouches down on all fours beside him, letting him mount him.
And really, whether Alec likens it to a big furry horse or a big furry motorcycle is kind of up to him. But he better hold on tight because once he does, Jacob takes off. And he’s fast.
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Well, not alone. Extremely not alone, which is either a blessing or a curse and it's hard to pin it on one or the other as he climbs onto Jacob's back with a certain amount of reluctance. It's just that it feels a touch more intimate than is entirely appropriate to straddle a big, fluffy creature that you know is actually a man, and grip him largely with your thighs. Even if his fur is soft.
Although luckily all awkwardness goes flying directly out the window the second Jacob starts moving, because Alec has to throw himself entirely into hanging on, and adrenaline sure can grind shame into dust. He shouts fuck! into the wind at the first lurch, though he doesn't even really hear it because they're already gone through the underbrush. Then, after what must be a handful of miles the frantic scramble to make sure he's not sliding off passes, and Alec finally has the presence of mind to marvel at exactly what is happening: though he's pressed almost completely to the shifting muscles of the wolf's back to avoid getting caught in low-hanging branches or losing his grip, it feels almost like flying. The wind screaming past his ears should be freezing at the rate they're going, but Jacob is warm and his fingers are buried all the way into russet fur, the smells of forest such a startling departure from New York.
It's, it's— a mission, idiot. Alec sucks in a breath so he can holler loud enough to be heard over the rushing air and heavy paws beating against the ground: "Stop as soon as you get a line of sight!" Upwind would help, but at this speed he's not going to need it to catch the demon unawares.
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And those arms. Right around his neck. The werewolf’s strength makes it relatively easy not to get throttled by Alec holding onto him like this, though he gets the feeling this man is stronger than a human. Good, because he’s not going anywhere near a decent speed for a human to stay on him. His paws fly beneath him with all the assurance of an animal bred and raised within these forested mountains. The shouted oath behind his head earns a smirk in his mind. He ducks through the underbrush, careful not to get Alec caught or snagged, weaves between trees as he follows a path it seems only he can see, and leaps across spaces between rock and earth to skip one detour after another. One mile after another, flying by in blurs of browns, greens, grays, golds, and silvers. Hands buried in his fur and his body heat practically soaking into Alec’s torso, hips, and legs means his passenger is staying rather warm. At least wolfback riding doesn’t have that “bouncing” that horseback riding oft entails.
Jacob snorts at the instructions shouted over the wind. Checking in with the others once more tells him that Rosaline and the two wolves with her have actually found the creature. On Jacob’s orders, the little trio hasn’t attacked, but there are plenty of comments about how weird the thing is. Even Rosaline’s disgusted at the sensation and scent. The next-closest group is a short-ways off. He glances to the side, noticing that Quil’s still keeping pace and staying out of sight. Alec might be aware that Jacob’s not alone, but the second wolf is staying a little further back and remaining among the thicker trees.
It takes a while but eventually Jacob slows his pace and transitions from blitz to run to jog to trot to walk to stop in the span of only a few seconds. He would’ve stopped faster, but his passenger and the desire not to make noise ensure that gradual cease is necessary. Silently, the wolf pads through the forest and finally stops between two trees. Not so much a clearing in front of them, but a patch of woodlands with the demon—is that a demon--apparently feasting against a nearby tree.
There’s the softest of ‘thumps’ and a breezy rush beside them and Alec’s going to notice another figure suddenly beside Jacob. He looks like a teenager, impossibly beautiful with marble white skin, eyes of gold, and dark hair. The vampire glances to Alec, a ray of sunlight catching the side of his neck and turning alabaster flesh into a slash of glitters like so many diamonds. “Rosaline’s a few yards that way, behind the tree, with Jared and Embry. Bella’s to the east,” and tilts his head to indicate the direction, voice low. “With Paul. The rest are approaching from all sides to make a net.” He’s talking to both Jacob and Alec, updating since the wolf can’t speak at the moment.
Though he does look directly at Alec this time. “I’m Edward Cullen. Nice to meet you.” There’s that award-winning smile. “How’s the ride?” And pats Jacob on the side.
Jacob snarls and deliberately shoves the vampire with his flank. Bastard. He’s not going to hear the end of this for a while.
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It is more of a relief than he'd ever admit to out loud that none of Jacob's teen pack members have actively engaged the thing. Teenaged Shadowhunters would have been equipped to deal with it—certainly Alec had killed his first demon before he turned 16—but that's what they're born for, and raised for, and they do their duty so no one else has to take those risks. Whether or not they're horse-sized super-wolves. That's not the point.
On his feet again, Alec clocks Edward instantly for a vampire, even without the splash of sunlight giving him away. Or, alright, he clocks him for a vampire after a moment of arrested staring, because that's what vampires do to people by design. It's the speed, the pallor of his skin, the impossible beauty... and the fact that Alec has skirted around more than a few vampire clans in New York, always careful of the Accords (that aforementioned tenuous treaty that keeps the city from being a supernatural powder keg.) The revelation only leaves Alec with more questions than before.
Because shifters aren't werewolves, but the very idea of a Vampire clan working peacefully with anything wolf-shaped is borderline absurd to him.
Then Edward's words catch up with him and he glances across the creek, over the back of the demon, picking out human and unnaturally large animal shapes among the trees with the enhanced vision that another of his active runes affords him. That's five on-site, two next to him, and more coming? "God," he mutters before he can stop himself. "How many of you are there?"
This is their territory, obviously, and it's not like he's not used to a high population of non-humans in a place like NYC. He just wasn't expecting hardly anyone around the little nothing town clinging to the edge of the ocean.
Well. None of that actually matters right now, unless it factors into why someone would hire a warlock to summon a demon out here in the first place, and he still has no idea what the motive for that would be. Alec grinds his teeth, distinctly aware that his face has probably gone red and splotchy, and he is admittedly a little mollified when Jacob shoves the man for his troubles. Honestly if Alec survives this encounter with even a sliver of his dignity intact, it will be a miracle. "Alec Lightwood," he returns after a moment, pointedly ignoring the followup question. And the proffered nicety. "Once I put an arrow into the demon, it won't be able to go incorporeal anymore. If someone could hold it down so I can set on fire, that'd be great." It'll be holy fire, and done with a Rune, but that seems like unnecessary detail to go into right now.
A pause, as he pulls his bow back off his shoulder and tugs an arrow out of his quiver, somewhat embarrassed at needing to ask for the help. "And if someone could go distract it right now, before it finishes eating that tree."
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Granted, the younger wolves (more by time than looks) are all a little anxious, some chomping at the bit and wanting to lunge forward into attack, others nervous about what it is they’re looking at. Both Jacob and Paul and their respective Betas are being very heavy-handed on their orders to keep everyone from charging in, made more difficult because they can’t go snarling at a row of wolves behind them, which is a little more the usual battle formation. Spread out as they are, pocketing the woods with their vampire allies, it’s a very unusual setup. And all for this one creature? Yeah, doubt and annoyance and insulted pride run rampant.
Edward is more than used to the look and lets Alec have his few seconds of surprise and intrigue. Though his smile does slip into something a little charm-smug as he looks to the side at Jacob. “It’s okay, Jacob,” he murmurs, soft voice definitely edged with teasing. “He just thinks it’s absurd we’re actually working together.” Oh yeah, Edward can read minds. Jacob probably should have told Alec that. “He stared at you longer.”
Someone tell Bella to get her trolling husband out of my face!
Just because they put their past differences behind them and Jacob made peace with Bella’s choice doesn’t mean the two can’t clash on occasion. Mostly because they can still be dicks to each other, though it’s more playful banter and teasing than those hate-filled venomous things Jacob used to fling around. Edward can still needle him though. Like now. Stop trying to flirt with the guy who’s apparently crushing on him!
“Twelve in one pack. Eight in the other. Nine in my family.” Edward offers the numbers before Jacob can protest and the wolf’s ears flatten in annoyance, a quiet snarl rippling in his chest and mouth. Even if they’re working together, Alec doesn’t need to know all the details! There are advantages in the unknown if they ever need them… But what’s done is done and Edward listed his own coven’s numbers as well, so… guess maybe since Alec is the one with the experience in demon hunting here, he should be given the lowdown of what his current “resources” are.
Quite the number, hm. Granted two of the twenty-nine are still young, with Renesmee (while only 4 chronologically) still being around 13 in appearance and the youngest wolf being 16 when he phased four weeks ago. Neither of the two should be underestimated, though both remained on the outer ring of the alliance’s current surrounding web and guarded by Carlisle and Sam respectively due to Alec’s warning.
With the pleasantries exchanged, Edward and Jacob both listen to Alec’s explanation of the matter, the thoughts relayed through the wolves while Edward and Alice would assist in spreading the information among the coven. “If we can touch it, we can hold it down.” It went without saying likewise that they would do their best to avoid any teeth or claws or other sharp bits. The sudden “suggestion” of an order gets both moving and Edward all but vanishes in a flash. Jacob silently departs from the boulder he’d left Alec on, blitzing through the foliage. Another wolf, this one chocolate brown with lighter fur on his face, alights near Alec. Quil. Left in charge of keeping Alec safe and giving him a ride if necessary (which came with its own share of ribbing).
Not quite sure what “distraction” to use, Jacob did what he thought best: namely emerge from the woods and stand in the light, snarling a loud challenge at the creature consuming its woody meal. So long as it focused on him, then Alec could get a shot, right? Instinct told him to go for the kill, attack it, but no. They had to wait for it to become corporeal. Bella and Edward remained on either side of the clearing, ready to dash in and attack or distract or whatever else might be necessary in case the creature go ahold of their friend. Everyone else was in place by now.
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Presuming this all goes well, of course. Alec shakes off everything else and focuses, nocking an arrow and staring down the shaft of it, after a quick glance towards Quil when he shuffles in to replace Jacob.
As soon as Jacob advances towards the demon, its head snaps up and it turns its face to the shifter, empty sockets where its eyes should be, fur matted down with sap and mangy all over, some sort of animal viscera clinging to its horns. All that's left of the tree is a jagged stump, covered in specks of black and white fuzz, spotty like mold. Luckily it seems like the distraction is working, because when it scents the air through a snout that's dribbling black ooze, it doesn't bolt or turn into mist and disperse through the the surrounding trees.
No, instead it immediately starts towards Jacob while gnashing its teeth greedily as though it isn't about half his size, either fearless or stupid. (Or hungry enough to be both.)
Oh, god, Alec realizes with a sudden lurching sensation deep in his gut. Its undivided interest means that Jacob isn't actually older than he looks, or at least not by much—Alec had been operating under the assumption that he falls into any time he deals with one of the immortal species, namely that Jacob was probably a hundred or something, frozen in time by the act of shifting. Letting out a burst of breath, he uses the motion of his exhale to aim and fires his arrow. It whizzes past Jacob's ear without touching him, an awfully daring shot which pays off because its proximity to the wolf means that the demon has no way to smell the arrowhead made of holy metal coming before it is suddenly lodged right in one of those empty eye sockets.
The demon rears back with a terrible animal noise of pain, though not even an arrow to the brain actually seems to slow it down enough that it doesn't lunge instinctually towards Jacob to try and take a bite out of him, unable to locate its actual attacker in the sudden confusion.
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Oh and there is that aspect of two years of peace making the vampires and werewolves a little eager for some action, regardless of what they say. Blood drive and hunting instinct never goes away.
But… Gross. Action or not, Jacob instantly feels a pure revulsion towards the nightmarish thing that suddenly looks up at him. It’s like staring at the corpse of a swamp monster you see in horror movies. Normally he’s very happy to watch the violent, bloody parts of those action movies, but this thing is real, a threat, and so very out-of-the-ordinary, it’s unnerving. Why the hell is this thing even eating a tree? The mold it’s left behind is disturbing and Jacob instinctively wants to burn it, something that he gets the rest of his pack feels similar towards.
Seth makes a comment about wanting to puke thanks to seeing that thing’s nose dribbling ooze. Considering the wolves breathe far more frequently through their noses than their mouths, the idea of liquid dripping out of his nose brings to mind the accidental snorting of water, that disgusting coughing fit as you try and clear your windpipe. It’s gagging. Jacob shudders mentally. Thanks, Seth. We all needed that.
The second the thing starts towards him, the Quileute braces his paws to the soft earth and snarls loudly, hackles raised and spine arched as his lips curl away from the dagger-like fangs in his jaws. It actually takes Sam’s loud reminder and Bella’s sudden shield to prevent his instinctive desire to lunge forward and attack first. He doesn’t want this thing anywhere near him! He wants it dead! It’s unnatural! It doesn’t belong in this world! He can’t tell if it’s fear, disgust, anger, or something else, but it’s there and it’s loud.
While he is “immortal” to a degree, Jacob’s still only just 20 chronologically. Guess that’s young enough. He almost jumps out of his proverbial skin when something snaps right past his ear. Doesn’t even have time to realize it’s Alec’s arrow before the creature in front of him snaps backwards and reels in agony. It’s a picture-perfect replication of any of those movie monsters getting shot in the eye. Not that it stops it from blindly attack…
Like a band of rubber snapping, Jacob blitzes forward. He ducks one swipe of the creature’s claws and instantly goes for its throat, clamping down on the neck. At the same time, Bella—a beautiful brown-haired teenager with golden eyes and only a year older than her husband, Edward—flashes out of the underbrush. Edward follows as split second later and both latch ice-cold hands onto the demon’s front arms/legs. Skin as hard and durable as marble, they squeeze in unison, preventing the creature from digging its claws into the werewolf. That’s really all it takes before the three of them yank, fully intending to rip the demon’s head and arms from its body. If it’s anything like a werewolf or vampire, throat crushing, beheading, and dismembering are very effective ways of neutralizing the threat before they can put it down permanently.