<strong>Location:</strong>Main Room<br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>All<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The head demon didn't say anything to Ariel immediately, though he did study the beautiful angel for a moment or two before the chaos began. All around him, his men were being torn apart in a grand display of ineptitude. They were dropping like flies around him, before they all even got the chance to lay eyes on their actual target. The vampire brother and sister he had brought along had both been slain by a slutty archon in black leather, the male due to his apparent lack of attention, the female due to her rage at seeing her sibling slain. A business-like centaur took out the necromancer before he could correct the error, the man gurgling pathetically to his death, as if he couldn't even resurrect his own life. The beast then tried to fire a silver arrow at him, but the projectile bounced off his flesh without even piercing it, falling to the floor where the metal smoldered from the split-second's contact. He wouldn't fall to the weakness of lesser demons. Lastly, his fourth subordinate delivered a few dozen shotgun shells to one of the makeshift security team, only to receive an arguably worse werewolf fist to the spine, launching across the room sans weapon.<br/><br/>The only ones who seemed to have any success were the small group of mortal thugs he had brought along mostly to act as cannon fodder, but he knew that success was going to be short-lived, in the most literal sense possible. Considering he was the only member of his entire crew who wasn't already dead or about to be, things seemed pretty grim for the sharply dressed demon, but the unaffected smirk that remained on his face the entire time (very reminiscent of Marc) suggested his life wasn't feeling too threatened. As the silence built in the aftermath of the initial violence, leaving the club frozen as the next move was prepared, the demon pulled a cigarette out from a half-empty pack in his coat pocket, tucking it between his handsome lips. A light wasn't necessary, the flame seeming to come from the demon's own mouth, traveling through the center of the cigarette before setting its tip ablaze. After a second, it cooled down to a normal smolder, and the demon started a slow, formal clap that echoed for those brief moments of silence. "Not a bad start, I'll give you that. Now give us a chance."<br/><br/>The man's amused smirk shifted to a demonic grin as he began rising up from the obsidian dance floor, his limbs blazing with some sort of spectral flame as his hellish powers bore him up to a higher level than anyone in the club, though he had started down below them all. With a flourish of his arms, the spectral fire flew in three different directions, striking the bodies of his "deceased" allies, namely the vampires and the mancer. The holes that had been torn into their bodies through bullets and arrows spewed dark fire briefly before being filled with molten, rock-like flesh, regrowing limbs and organizing while an unholy power dragged them back to their feet. The heat soon cooled around the ugly regrowth, settling into normal skin that made it appear like the fatal injuries had never occurred at all.<br/><br/>The assailants were quickly back into action. The vampire siblings nodded at each other and parted ways, the sister grabbing the nearest chair to try to repay Ayr with a caved-in skull for his trouble, while the brother leapt toward Rutilus with a brandished sword, sailing through the air with intent to relieve him of either his arms or his head, whichever was easier at the time. Having not much to work with yet, the necromancer forewent his magic for the immediate future and drew a pair of pistols, firing at those near the bar, which happened to include the centaur and the angel. He managed to get half a dozen rounds off before the kitsune bouncer sent a few more back in his direction, forcing him to flip a table for cover (nephilim-enchanted wood<em>could</em>stop bullets) and return fire from there.<br/><br/>Jack would be forgiven for thinking he was on some sort of hallucinogen for a moment, because, while it was a woman he had nearly punched in half and launched across the bar, what was returning to him was some sort of massive, angry jungle cat, with fur red like blood and threatening silver eyes. The shapeshifter was back upon him in less than a count to three performed by even King Arthur's least ridiculous knight, sinking claws into him that pierced just as effectively as an enchanted blade, and were almost definitely poisoned to boot. Elsewhere, the thugs who had "finished" Adam were now opening fire on anyone around the room who wasn't a member of the own crew, proving dangerous if only for their own recklessness. The highborn demon continued to float above it all, taking a drag from his smoke as he watched his men take the place apart.