Unexpected help

Who: Bu and Socko, then Frank
Where: streets near the hospital
When: Evening

According to Bu, shit was on. Which, in this town, wasn't too surprising, but Socko had yet to see anything that corroborated her suspicions. He'd headed out with her earlier that night, strapping his pistol on and hopping into the passenger's seat of her car, lazy but watchful in his seat as they drove from sidestreet to main drag over and over. Socko was watching the shadows just as closely as the invisible rush of numbers hanging in the air around them, wary for whatever might be behind the rash of 'animal attacks' in town lately and hopeful that he and Buttahfly could stop the next before it happened. She'd said it sounded like it might be demons, and he didn't like that. Demons were way out of Socko's league, but he wasn't about to let his lady go hunting alone. So there he was, reclining partially in his seat as he sucked on a joint, resisting the urge to turn up the stereo to float on a sea of bass. "You think my heat's even gon' faze whatever we lookin' for, child?" he asked Bu, cracking the window to exhale and glancing over at her.

Buttah was as armed to the teeth as she ever got, and on high alert. There'd been one animal attack, she'd let it go. Two, it got a bit of attention ... but this last rash ... was more than enough to be worrying. To put it mildly. So she and her man had taken to the streets, to see what they could see, and maybe save a life or two. Her eyes ticked from the street over to Socko and then back, and she cracked her own window. That last thing she needed was dulled edges, but she knew that he was probably expending enough effort to warrant one fuck of a headache of he didn't toke up a bit. "Dunno," she answered quietly, driving at patrol-speed and trying to look everywhere at once. "Guess we'll find out if we run up on one."

She had the right of it, Socko was peering into the tapestry of the universe, trying to predict the constant shift of probability around the two of them as the car rolled past darkened houses. Too often, this town was hiding inside when the sun fell. Which was probably good, but Socko didn't like how much it was warranted. Shit was getting crazier all the time here, and he couldn't help feeling like he was far out of his league most of the time. His eyes narrowed as he sat up, focusing on a clump of variables that flew by past one window. "Th'fuck..." he murmured, sucking in one more hit and stubbing his joint in the car's ashtray. Whatever he'd seen had been too fleeting to really figure out, but maybe they were heading towards wherever it came from. Looking out the windshield, Socko scowled at the lit-up hospital looming in the distance, the expression deepening as police lights whirred past them far ahead, cutting across streets. "Think shit's headin' back to find the vics?" he suggested, "Cuz I ain't know why, but somethin's buggin' up ahead."

Bu had automatically hit the brakes when Socko cursed, her attention moving smoothly over to him even more. She threw a fleeting glance at the flashing blue lights as they passed, and hit the gas again. "Could be," she said, speeding up on the completely empty street toward where the commotion seemed to be. She almost felt sorry for the cops in times like these; even in Marquette, they couldn't be prepared for this kind of shit. Not prepared at all. The gunfire had already started, and Buttah sped up, grim determination on her face.

Quite suddenly, they were hurtling towards the hospital as Bu stepped down on the gas. Socko drew in a deep breath, always nervous when he knew bloodshed was imminent. He wasn't a fighter like Bu, though he managed to get by. But in the past, he'd known what they were dealing with. Tonight? Well, it was a mystery hunt. He tugged his pistol free from under his hoodie, yanking back the slide to chamber a shell and blowing a kiss at Bu. "Shit, doll, I love our date nights," he teased as they passed the first parking lot and barreled towards the skywalk that connected the hospital's two buildings. Socko had another joke, but as he looked to his right, towards the main entrance of the hospital lobby, it died on his lips. Equations exploded before his eyes, variables being cancelled one after another in an rapid scrawl of mathematics. He didn't ever know quite what it all meant, but he knew he could trust it. "Hard left!" Socko blurted out, grabbing the steering wheel and twisting it to the left to skid the car around in the street right as a dark shape rushed from the concealment of an ambulance towards them. Whatever it was, it had been charging for Socko's door, but instead clipped the side of the car and ended up sprawled across the hood.

Buttah didn't fight him, knowing better with every ounce she had. She hit the brake as the car turned, one hand leaving the wheel to pull her own gun -- not her favorite weapon, but sometimes they were absolutely necessary -- out. She felt the impact of something that was not metal, and her eyes popped open as something rather large slumped across the hood with a yelp-growl. It was only down for a heartbeat before it started scrabbling up, claws destroying the already questionable paintjob on her car. It was furry, pointy on all ends, and huge. She knew immediately what it was, though she couldn't have come up with the word for it at that second. The snarling muzzle lunged for the windshield. "Shoot it!" she yelled to her partner as she threw the car into reverse and gunned it.

Socko's second sight was just as good for warning him about his own mistakes as external threats, luckily. When he first raised the gun, his vision swarmed with the percentage of a ricochet bouncing around in the car, so he grit his teeth instead, slamming his elbow into his window to smash part of it out. "Sit, motherfucker!" he spat, ignoring the pain of a cut along his hand as he jammed his arm through the broken window and starting squeezing the trigger. his normally-flawless aim was less under the circumstances, but Socko still knew how to work the pistol efficiently. Three shots rang out in that first span of moments, leaping up the werewolf's arm into it's bicep and shoulder, with the last blowing off the majority of its ear.

Frank had not wanted to leave the damn hospital but he hadn't really had much say in it and his body was still a mess of stiffness and pain after that tumble. He knew it was luck alone to thank for that he was still moving and breathing. Outside was as much of a chaos as inside, people streaming out through the doors, crying and screaming, most of them bewildered and in shock. Frank wished they'd all just lay low instead, find supply closets to huddle up in and hope for the best. As it was they were all in the way when the werewolf came out through the door in a blur of teeth, claws and fur. It tore through people there and ended up on top of one, bashing and tearing until there was no person left there to destroy. Another casualty because Frank didn't have a clean shot and couldn't get through that flood of people fleeing away from the thing. He was knocked back by the group, cursing as his already pained body hit the pavement.

"God damn son of a -" he groaned as he pushed himself up again and at least the numbers of people was thinning as they took shelter inside and behind cars in the parking lot. He looked around for the beast, took note of the police officers whose bullets he'd rather avoid and then found the wolf when gunfire drew his attention in the right direction. It was distinct even over all the other noise, at least to him since it didn't sound like the standard issue police weaponry and it came from where the sound of sirens did not. A hunter would not waste silver bullets like this, they were hard to make even if you had the money for them, so he suspected the worst. Average people trying to help and not knowing what they were up against which was just a recipe for disaster. It was quite the scene to look at, the battered car speeding backward past the hospital with a snarling, angry beast clinging to the hood despite the damage it was taking. Frank hoped against hope they'd stop the damn car so he could get a clean shot in without killing the passengers as he limped as fast as he could in that direction, still keeping an eye out for any more furry friends. No use to anyone if he ignored his role as prey for his role as predator. He whipped the crossbow up as he moved, wishing he still had his shotgun. If wishes were fishes...

The goddamn beast wasn't getting thrown off, and Bu couldn't really see very well where she was going. Stunt-driving wasn't exactly her bag. She hit the brake, bringing the car to a screeching halt in the middle of the street. Which threw the werewolf forward, smashing his already-bleeding face into broken glass. He was still snarling and there was gunfire, and Buttahfly couldn't give it too much thought. Werewolves weren't exactly her forte', but she was prepared for most everything she could be, and she did have a silver knife on her somewhere. She plucked it out from it's spot on the side of her boot and tossed it to the other hand, pushing Socko's arm out of the way as she stabbed toward the snarling face as hard as she could. The leverage in the car sucked ass, but one did what one had to do. Her superior strength shoved the tempered blade through bone and the thing screeched and reared back, flailing off of the hood of the car and down onto the pavement.

"Yeah, bitch!" Socko snapped as the car slammed forward, gritting his teeth against the impact and savoring the crunch as Buttah plunged a knife into the werewolf's face. Sure, it was a little foolhardy to hop out of the car so soon, but from the changes he saw? Well, that stab had plunged the value of the numeric representation of the werewolf, and a new variable had burst onto the equation; probably another hunter. "See, that's why you sit! when I tell you," he spat at the writhing werewolf, "Let's try another one. Play dead." The cuts to his wrist and arm had made him angry and wanting to hurt something, so Socko was all too happy to pop another four rounds into the prone form, ruining one of it's legs from the ankle up.

Frank slowed down when he saw that thing hit the pavement, writhing there in its final spasms of death. If things weren't still so marginally fucked up he might have even felt relief at seeing those kids could handle themselves but as it was - they came across as a little wild and that was never a good thing to add to the mix. Shouldering his crossbow he looked the two over with a stern expression he couldn't shake off tonight. "Good job," he muttered but it came out wary. He wasn't about to play daddy to complete strangers unless they did something to warrant it and so far all they had done was waste a lot of ammo though to be fair it might have helped in this case considering their silver weapon wasn't ranged.

Frank frowned down at the body, watching the huge, hulking form as it went still and slowly shrank. This was his least favorite part; when he got to see the human underneath the curse. In this case it was someone young, probably one of the college students, a girl no more than twenty, if that. Frank frowned down at her body, then looked back up at Socko and Buttahfly. "You ever take one of these down before?" He asked, resisting the urge to cover up the naked body with his jacket since, well, he needed the damn thing.

Buttah had gotten out of the car herself by the time the older, grizzly looking guy had come up to them. The accolades were cursory, and she didn't really want them in the first place. Was in fact looking over to say so, when the form of the creature began to change. Her eyes were drawn back to it and she stood there, mouth slightly open as it turned from the hulking beast into ... a naked girl that couldn't be more than a year or two older than herself. Sure, she knew that would probably happen in theory, but it was something else to see it happen. "No," she said quietly, and turned to walk the couple of steps back to her trashed car. She leaned in through the open door, rooted around in the back for a minute, and came up with a dirty blanket. Returning, she crouched to drape it over the girl.

The bravado didn't last long at all, adrenaline crashing through Socko's veins as he watched the change happen. He felt his stomach turn; there hadn't been much time to think about what the creature was when it was trying to kill them, but now? Now it was just a girl, and Bu was covering the ruins of her body. It was a hard sight to stomach, this wasn't a demonic cat, a vampire, a killer shadow. This had been a person. Maybe he'd sold her dope, seen her at a party. He took a step away, shaking his head to Frank and popping his clip free to count the remaining shells. "Naw," he agreed, "I don' take down a whole lot, though. Shit just got real... the fuck was that? Looked like a damn werewolf." Not that Socko had ever seen one, but the guess seemed accurate.

"It was a damn werewolf," Frank replied, thankful for the blanket - not just for covering the ruined body but also because it showed those kids weren't just mindless killers. "There are more of them running around, nobody knows just how many got infected so you kids watch your backs." He glanced down at Socko's gun. "I'm sure you've figured out by now that this is only really good for distraction. Your knife is what counts if you come up against another one." Most of all he just wanted to tell them to go home, close the doors and wait it out, they didn't look much older than Nate so even if they'd just taken down a werewolf without his help, he couldn't help but feel protective. He also knew that sort of protective attitude would just come across as patronizing so he didn't go there. Instead he just nodded at the body and muttered a somewhat tired sounding, "Good work."

Buttah looked up from the splayed hands and feet of the body they'd just taken the life out of and looked at the older man. She didn't go in much for partners , Socko and the occasional family member were the exception, but this guy seemed to know his shit, and sounded, well ... already kind of wiped out. "You need some more eyes on your back, man?" she asked, tone still sort of subdued. She'd never killed a werewolf before, just heart stories about them. "We kinda light on the silver, didn' know what was the flavor of the night."

Glancing over to Bu, then back to Frank, Socko nodded in agreement with her offer. He hadn't even heard many stories about werewolves, and while he trusted his gun to help slow the creatures down? He didn't think he and Bu were much-suited to hunt more of these things. "Yeah, but we can keep shit level, dig? My girl here, she'll pull your ass out if things get shithouse crazy. An' me? I can keep 'em from gettin' there," he explained, slapping a fresh clip in his pistol and moving towards Frank to offer his hand. "Socko, holmes. S'fucked up circumstances? But I think it's a good time to meet you."

Teaming up sounded like a good idea, it might have kept him from flying out a window earlier that was for damn sure. Frank also wanted to keep an eye on those two until he knew for sure they weren't as crazy as their lingo. He took Socko's hand in a firm grip and nodded gravely. "Frank Alden, I lost my shotgun up in there, could definitely use backup retrieving it." He offered Buttah his hand next. "Two down by my count, plenty more to go if the last few days are any indication. For now all I have is this." He gestured to the crossbow slung over his shoulder.

The young woman shook his hand solemnly, giving him a nod. They might've all looked like strange bedfellows, but as long as they were efficient, that was what mattered. She knew that she and Socko did the best they could, but they weren't very prepared for werewolves, and help would be nice. Because going home and ignoring this wasn't an option. She just hated that they were going to be taking down things that were people underneath. Just very unlucky people. It took the savage joy out of the kill. "I go by Bu, mostly," she said, skipping over the full nickname that would probably sound even stranger than 'Socko' to an old white guy. "Where you think we oughta start?"

That was probably Socko's call, though Frank had obviously been working the inside of the hospital for some time before they'd arrived. But if there was a situation in there, none of them could afford to be hunting blind; there was too much risk of police, other hunters, even staff or survivors who might get aggressive at the sight of them. His eyes narrowed shrewdly as he held up a hand to both of them, jaw tensing at an icepick-pang in his brain as he focused his bizarre ability. "Still somethin' fucked goin' on up a shot or two," he murmured, nodding at the upper floors of the hospital, "An' I ain't sure what it means, but it's lookin' like someone cold-bolted out this block 'fore we got here..." He trailed off with a squint, rubbing his eyes in irritation. "Might mean one a'these furball-fucks got loose? Maybe more, I dunno. Not sure I could track 'em either." His power was still too short-sighted, limited to his own surroundings and a few seconds of time in either direction.

Frank watched him, brows drawn together as he wondered just how the kid knew that and just how he was planning on tracking one. Of course there was the whole follow the screams and bloodtrails approach. "Let's look into that then," he muttered. "There are more hunters in there but who knows just how many creatures we're up against. If you want to grab more bullets, do that now." He looked toward the hospital, watched some people rushing in through the doors, going against the the rush of people still fleeing. Hunters or desperate people trying to find someone, it just had to be a damn hospital.

Buttahfly stripped off her jacket and tossed it in the vague direction of the car, exposing a belt loaded down with knives, ranging from small throwing knives to the big bowie kind. Granted, very few of them were silver, but if you stabbed anything deep enough, it died. It was just a matter of surviving until that opportunity came. She trusted completely that if Socko said there were more beasts inside, there were more beasts inside. She pulled one of her weapons and glanced at her two male companions, all seriousness and business at the moment. "Let's roll, then," she said, and started striding for the big building. She just hoped no bravado-filled cop shot them all in the back or some shit.

Socko nodded grimly, pulling the slide back on his pistol to ready his fresh clip, looking Frank's way as he started after Bu. "Dig this, man. My girl? She knows the drill... we see one a'these, you let me gimp that bitch up, yeah? I ain't packin' no silver, but you don' gotta strap that shit if you don' miss their fuckin' knees, cool?" he explained, taking a steadying breath. These creatures were far more terrifying than the vampires had been, he just had to keep his focus, keep his eyes on the equations, and he could cover both of them before trouble ever started.

"Fire away," Frank muttered. "As long as there's nobody else in your line of fire. Watch yourselves too, there might be more out and about than just these critters." He started up after Buttah, feeling again the effects of his age and height as he found it hard to keep up with her stride. There they were, heading back into the belly of the beast where things felt every bit as chaotic as they had been the last time he was in there, if not more so. Blood and broken objects littered the hallway and there were still people in there, some hurt and others just cowering behind whatever they could hide behind.

Her man had said there were some on the upper floors, so Buttah turned at the first stairwell -- she never trusted elevators in situations like these -- she came to, and shouldered the door open hard, ready to attack anything behind it. Once she saw it was clear, she started up the steps, blazing the trail for them. She was stronger than both of her partners, faster, and more sure on her feet, and if there was something to run into, she wanted to run into it first. Which meant she got ahead of them on the stairs, and stopped at the second floor, peering up and then down again. Once they'd caught up she looked at Socko. "I go through first, you tell me which way to go, yeah?" she said. "Frank's on my other side." She wasn't sure how the older man would take to her taking the lead, but she was used to doing it, and they didn't have time to hash it out.

"You got it, girl," Socko murmured as he tugged his hood up. The less recognizable he was in this, the better. He hung back in the stairwell, squinting at what was empty air to the others as his mind raced. There was a knot of variables dancing before him, sliding over each other like drops of water as their values changed fluidly, and Socko sucked in a breath as he pushed himself to think faster. X is the value of A through N, Y is the total halved... He blinked in surprise as one blipped away in neat time with a choked scream from somewhere on the floor, looking back to Bu and clenching his jaw against another stab of headache pain. "We gotta move right," he muttered, "Think there's survivors holed up somewhere."

"Shotgun in there," Frank muttered quietly and gestured to a door down the hall. He wasn't wasting his breath on asking just what sort of algebra nonsense the boy was muttering about. He could ask them later if they lived through this night, right now his priority was getting his weapon and taking down some werewolves. He didn't mind Buttah taking the lead, there was no rank in his hunts and for that matter, he liked them in his line of vision. They might have taken down a werewolf but they were both acting just a little funny. No point in getting caught off guard by psychopaths or demons, there were plenty out there playing games and with Bu's seemingly odd strength and Socko's nonsensical muttering, they might easily be just that. Good way of ruling out the demon part would be a blessed shotgun with its many religious symbols. If they were what they claimed to be they could use it with what they were up against. "You'll want to get that," he told Socko. "It'll be more effective than your gun."

More weapons sounded like a good thing to Bu. The door Frank had gestured to was down to their left, but close by, so she thought a mini detour for a shotgun was a worthwhile endeavor. Looking up and down the hallway and listening hard, she ducked through the doorway and headed toward their destination, her step light in her boots, knives poised at the ready. After putting her ear to the wood -- gods only knew what he left behind in there -- she twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

Socko was definitely in his role that he worked when hunting with Bu. He was the eyes, the sharpened senses that worked to keep any surprises from actually surprising them. Flattened against the wall next to the door, Socko pressed a hand to ease it open with Bu, glancing in sideways at the space. He wasn't concerned with the blood on the floor, though; Socko was watching the dance of probability telling him more than an exposed look would. "Ain't no shottie in there, yo," he murmured over at Frank, "Got a casualty on the floor, not much else." Nothing alive at least, and no weapons Socko could perceive.

Frank gave them both a Look but headed in there anyway, crossbow at the ready. The room was freezing cold, curtains slamming against the wall as the storm played through the broken window and Frank tried not to look at the corpse in there, too impossibly mangled. He found his suitcase where it had been flung to the side right near the door, hastily opened it and grabbed the shotgun and shells. "Here," he muttered, shoving the thing into Socko's hands and took note of the fact it didn't seem to hurt him, so there was that. "This'll do more damage," he muttered. "Let's go."

Buttah lingered near the door, glancing down the hallway every couple of seconds. Socko gave them an advantage when it came to timing, but cautionary habits never died. She avoided looking at the corpse herself. She wasn't squeamish in the least, but ... well, this was a hard thing. She must preferred demons and rampaging vampires, thanks. Sentient evil was much easier to deal with. Once Frank was ready to move, she did so, gliding down the hallway on the balls of her feet, a knife in each hand, and ready for whatever they were going to run into.

Racking a fresh shell into the shotgun he'd been given, Socko followed after the other two, intent on the trails he was following. It was harder to interpret things in advance with them leading the way, but he was under no illusions about his odds in a fight with one of these creatures. "I ain't normally rock no--" he started to murmur, frowning at what he was suddenly seeing in the air. "Hol' up... listen," Socko whispered, tuning his hearing into a steady trail of snarling and scraping from somewhere on the floor, and beneath it, plaintive whimpers. "Ain't jus' one a'those things... s'got some fools trapped."

He let the shotgun hang lower, frowning to himself as the equation he was reading bunched up and loomed large before his senses. Variables dotted into life like stars under gathering darkness, each one unfolding with its own relative sequence that he could read. That one was a woman, bleeding and crying, trying not to hyperventilate. Another was an orderly, Socko saw the mathematical equivalents of shame and desperation in his sequence. But the largest? Well, it was obviously the predator they were hunting. Socko stood back with held breath, squinting at apparently nothing as he puzzled out the numbers and watched them unfold into a phantom sight.

The wolf was at the door, one arm plunged through to reach for the people trapped inside, and that was its mistake. He saw Buttahfly moving wide to flank the beast as Frank raised his crossbow, drilling a bolt through the beast's knee to drop it with a howl that had no sound in Socko's vision. Bu worked well with another seasoned hunter, stepping in fast as the werewolf toppled and slamming her silver blade into its' arm, pinning it to the door. Finally, he saw himself walking up the hallway, shotgun in his hands and a grim look on his face...

The vision snapped away as quickly as it had come; Socko's perceptions had such a narrow window, maybe five seconds ahead. But from what he'd seen? That was all they'd need. "Awright, let's do this," he muttered to both Frank and Bu, "Baby, move left, wolf's on the right. Frank? Shoot low. We got us a time limit."