2042/3 Russians, 1 Coyote

3 Russians, 1 Coyote
Date of Scene:	21 August 2017
Location:	By the East River, New York City
Synopsis:	Mercy, acting on impulse, tracks and assails the Winter Soldier after running across the result of one of his jobs. The encounter is complicated by the fact that not only was the Soldier talking to Akula at the time, Vanya followed Mercy's trail as well.
Cast of Characters:	Winter Soldier, Mercy Thompson, Feral, Akula
Tinyplot:	Tayaniye

---

Winter Soldier has posed:
Once you've welcomed the Winter Soldier into your life -- or perhaps more appropriately, once he's welcomed himself into your life -- every death starts to look suspicious. Even the ones that are innocuous as hell. Even the open-and-shuts like Mansour bin Majid Al Saud.

Everyone else, though -- they'll say he committed suicide. Why not? The Saudi princes aren't always known to be the most stable of men, and not all Saudi princes are wealthy, either -- he'd been known to be having money trouble immediately prior to his fatal fall from his penthouse apartment on the Upper East Side. No foul play will be suspected: the window was open, not forced, and there was no trace of anyone in the apartment that shouldn't have been there.

The case will be closed. Another seventy-floor plunge to the pavement. In the here and now, gawkers are already gathering, standing at a timid distance away from the mess.

Several blocks away, a figure lopes easily along a deserted footpath by the East River, under cover of the 1 AM darkness. He is not in his customary heavy gear, owing to the nature of his task: he moves along efficiently in plainclothes, though he is assuredly still armed.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The hunt for Claire Temple has been on-going for Mercy Thompson since the group returned from the nasty hydra (lower H in this case) debacle. And while the hunt has ended mostly in dead-ends for the coyote that hasn't stopped her from looking.

That searching of hers has caused Mercy to keep an eye upon the news more often than what she normally would. And while not every death she hears about is attributed to the Winter Soldier some do. Or, at least, they seem like something /he/ could do. Not that this helps her find Claire, but it makes Mercy feel useful in-between all the bomb building.

It's only when social media starts lighting up about a second jumper that Mercy turns her attention away from bomb building (because yes, that's what she's doing at one am in the morning) and frowns.

That frown turns into consideration and then that consideration turns into action. Like a shot the coyote is packing a small messenger bag with a few things and then she's out the door. The trip to the scene of the crime doesn't take long and as soon as Mercy's there she's listening with sensitive ears, seeing with heightened eyesight and scenting with her coyote nose. The snippets of conversation are mostly ignored as people expression their shock, or babble about what they 'thought' they saw, or bitch about the way the neighborhood is going. The same can be said for her sight, nothing to see, not really, but her nose - that's where it all changes. It's faint at first. A familiar smell. Man and metal.

While her nose realizes who's scent that is her brain grapples with it for a minute. She hadn't really expected to smell that familiar scent here ... She really hadn't.

But she has and so, like a bloodhound Mercy turns in the direction of that scent-trail and follows.

She should probably text someone right this moment, but she doesn't. She just breaks out into a ground eating jog. A lope, much like a wolf or assassin.

Feral has posed:
Wandering aimlessly through the city with her hands in her pocket, Vanya's out for a nighttime stroll. Barefoot with yellow glasses over her night-adapted eyes, the predator is enjoying the spot of cool weather the follows the sun's departure - and walking off some bar room fun. There's something of a smell lingering on the were-woman's oversized shirt but all things considered it's not the most unpleasant one on the street.

The faint scent of fresh blood lays claim to that.

Furrowing her brow as she sniffs the air, the bestial brawler traces the odor briskly through a dark alleyway, only to frown as she spots the crowd gathered. //I missed all the fun,// she grumbles before another smell catches her nostrils and her yellow-tinted eyes flit away from the onlookers and down a side street.

That smells like coyote - a greasy female coyote. Smiling hopefully, Vanya springs off the pavement and breaks into a run, following after Mercy's trail. //You had better not be getting chased by more wolves...//

Akula has posed:
It is by blessed fortune alone that Akula is in the East River tonight. Freed of previous encumbrances, her mind is spinning with ideas, potential directions she can take in this new and modern world she is forced to live in. Lazily her tail sways, following the current, drifting along, thoughtful as she had been in days of old in the dark of the sea.

She smells him before she sees him. She had not expected their paths to cross again so soon, but with weighty matters on her mind, it is good fortune indeed. Perhaps she might once more seek advice from the one familiar detail of her dead country that still walks the among the living.

Turning with a roll through the waves, she moves swiftly through the river towards the source of the scent. This takes her to the shore near that footpath, where she slows down in the shallows and steps quietly out onto the bank, her tall figure rising against the moonlight, her dark, speckled skin partially blending with the night sky.

<<"Salutations commander. How many days and nights!">> she greets him quietly in Russian, hoping this time not to startle him, a complete reversal of her usual M.O..

Winter Soldier has posed:
The distant form of the Winter Soldier soon resolves to the following Mercy's eyes, a familiar shape as lean and purposeful as a knife blade. He seems to be heading towards a small pier. Perhaps it is his form of exit, tonight, from this job he undertook.

He is a little early -- the consequence of work efficiently done -- so he is not in a particular rush. Rushing draws eyes, after all, attention he cannot afford. There are those, however, who take notice of him not due to suspicion, but due to familiarity.

He becomes aware of a certain familiar presence a moment before Akula's tall form rears against the night sky. He stops in his progress, glancing up, his hands hooking on the loops of his belt. It is as close to a greeting as men like him ever get: a tacit acknowledgement that he will not reach for weapons, and trusts her not to reach for any herself.

"Kak dela, Akula," he answers, something almost passingly warm in his greeting. "<I am glad to see you remain well. Have you found a new cause?>"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Oh no, Vanya. The coyote isn't being chased, instead Mercy is the chaser.

A pity she's not running after wolves; no, this prey is much more dangerous. Much more deadly.

When the form resolves itself to the Winter Soldier, Mercy's own strides slow. While she's not a superb hunter like some others so near, Mercy knows to try and blend in now. Not that there's too many people around, but running pellmell into a scene would neatly alert the Soldier to her presence, along with Akula.

And while the coyote should know Vanya is behind her, she doesn't. No, Mercy is too focused upon the task at hand and also her own internal dialogue.

Like - What the HELL do you think you're really doing following him. You're going to get KILLED. What's your actual plan?

With that thought Mercy's hand drops to the messenger style bag that's strapped diagonally across her body and she reaches inside. Two small cylinders are brought out and with a look at the two at the pier Mercy moves.

Her ears prick up at the tones between Soldier and Shark-Girl and while Akula does earn a second look from Mercy, that doesn't stop the coyote from putting Akula in the bad-guy category. Not when she hears some semblance of warmth toe the Winter Soldier's voice; like he's talking to a comrade-in-arms. A friend.

Hearing that the coyote primes both grenades and with the count-down started in her head Mercy /runs/ towards the two. It's when she's halfway to their pier that she'll throw /both/ grenades at them. The grenades are lightweight enough that all of Mercy's strength allows them to hurtle quickly and neatly through the air -

Time to play catch Winter Soldier.

Feral has posed:
Vanya's pants brush noisily as she runs down the sidewalk, bounding out into a sprint as she runs down Mercy's smell. Stripes begin to run up the shapeshifter's nose and her torn-up pants tighten as the legs inside them swell; bestial enhancements from inhuman donors.

She slows as she catches sight of Mercy's distinctive form and comes up jogging behind her, panting lightly around sharpened canines. The light of a nearby street lamp catches her features, casting pointed shadows down the were-woman's features, giving her runic brand an almost reddish edge, and making the faded red of her pants glare against the muted colors of the street. Subtle the brown-haired predator is not; subtle is for lesser creatures.

Neither, apparently, is Mercy. Vanya furrows her brow as the coyote doubles back into a sprint and chucks something at the water. Her eyes start to shift for better vision but not quite fast enough to warn her that things are about to get very loud.

Akula has posed:
<<"Something close to it. I mourned that Mother Russia is gone, and that only weakling maggots dance in her corpse now. It was bitter to think of, but necessary. I have run too long from that reality.">>

Akula's weapons are something she cannot throw away; they are a part of her. She demonstrates her admiration by adopting the posture of a subordinate officer. She cannot think or behave any other way. Winter Soldier had the advantage of having grown up free and happy on these shores. Directive X was Akula's home from within twenty four hours of her birth.

<<"But I realize now, I am her daughter, and her heart beats within my breast. I will not stain myself with the greed of mafiya.">>

<<"I will find -war-. I will carry the dignity and pride of the Soviet man onto the field as once before, somehow, somewhere. I will tear the flesh off the earth. I will make all the devils of hell sh*t out their own hearts.">>

And then: It comes.

The gift of War.

Akula's senses are preternaturally sharp, and from the corner of her eyes, she sees the small items tossed towards them from the distance. She can sense the bioelectric fields of living things nearby, feel their muscles moving in tandem with impulses from the brain.

She leans forward and sweeps her tail through the air towards the grenades, and at least one is instantly detonated from the raw power of that threshing blow.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Akula's respect is accepted and reflected back, the Winter Soldier mulling her words with the attention and care of a mindful superior officer. "<She is changed, but not entirely gone,>" he muses. "<There are aspects of her you can carry with you still. The ones that were taught to you, and which you can still embody.>" He is briefly thoughtful, considering her with head tilted, before he remarks, "<If it is war you want, then-->"

Something interrupts his thought. An alertness runs through him, his senses picking up the nearby sound of running feet and the soft sound of something small flung through the air. He turns in tandem with Akula, in time to see the woman sweep her tail to bat at one of the grenades.

The ensuing EMP blast gives him a split-second warning of what's incoming before the second detonates, the EMP crackling across his arm and dropping it to his side. It's a few seconds before he compensates for the short in the power source, leveraging it back up as a normal prosthetic, but it's a few moments in which Mercy can adjust to now having both Akula and the Soldier's attention.

"<Looks like you're going to get your wish sooner rather than later,>" the Winter Soldier asides. Gunfire would probably leave more incriminating evidence here than he would want, which is likely why he's sliding a knife with a seven-inch blade free from its sheath instead. "<I was going to ask a favor of you, but the favor has come to us.>"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
They worked.

The grenades actually worked. Wait, she knew they'd work, theoretically, but (still) they /worked/. His arm dropped.

It's enough to cause the coyote to freeze for a second. She hadn't thought much more beyond throwing the grenades. And now both Akula and the Soldier have turned towards her. This was such a bad idea. "F -"

That word doesn't finish, not when Mercy's senses finally tell her there's someone behind her. Pivoting upon heel, the coyote's gaze now falls upon Vanya and the other woman should easily be able to see and scent the relief that the coyote feels, "Vanya - thank god."

"That's the man that we need help with and I'm pretty sure I just got his attention real good." Not to mention Akula's attention; though Mercy has yet to mention her, but Vanya can clearly see the other woman upon the pier. "No killing, just knock him out. Not sure who the woman is, but no killing her. Main objective is to get him down."

Then Mercy is pulling more tricks from her bag - though which to use. One of the grenades in her hand is another super secret weapon and while she's tempted to throw it, she doesn't. Instead she tucks that second grenade back into her back and pulls out another taser bomb. "Tell us where Claire is!" Shouts the coyote, even as she primes her next set of grenades. Already she's moving, it's a path that will lead her away from any type of direct confrontation with Akula or Winter Soldier. She's going to try and circle around them, moving along the edge of what will potentially become the battlefield, and drop the bombs when she has an opening.

Feral has posed:
Vanya flinches back for a moment and the flash and sound of the two grenades. It's much less than it could have been but it was still unexpected. "He's it? And no army with guns behind him?" she asks in surprise before anything else as she turns back to the soldier, only then noticing the towering shark that's stepped before him.

The were-woman's face splits into a wide smile. "Tovarisch!" she laughs. <<What the *$!# are you doing here?>> Tugging at the loose neck of her shirt, Vanya cracks the knuckles of her opposite hand and works stiffness out of her shoulders, not rushing into the fray.

<<Let me guess: you're a friend of his? This just got much more fun...>>

Akula has posed:
The EMP temporarily fries Akula's bioelectric sense. She finches, but bears it. There will be no crying out in pain. Pain is only one of many senses, and like others, they will go away in time.

<<"You are the superior officer. I am happy to accept command,">> she quickly asides to Winter.

Vanya is quickly recognized. No, she didn't expect to see one of the fun ones here - and it pains her that Vanya seems to be on the wrong side of things.

<<"He is my superior officer,">> Akula explains to Vanya, lowering herself into a ready crouch. <<"I would suggest you take your woman and run. I cannot guarantee you tonight that there will not be blood, and when there is blood and fear, there will be nothing left alive.">>

Winter Soldier has posed:
Tell us where Claire is, Mercy demands. The Winter Soldier smiles wordlessly, and does not answer. His eyes only follow Mercy as she strafes away, reaching for a fresh set of bombs. "Cute toys," he observes. "Let me see how they /all/ work."

He doesn't try to close with or engage her. His blue eyes just trace her, with the unblinking and considering gaze of... well, of a wolf watching a coyote run, mildly interested but not yet decided to lunge.

The fact Vanya and Akula seem to know one another does not seem to startle him, nor give him cause for alarm. He takes it in stride, as a matter of course. His gaze does track up to Akula briefly, as she delivers Vanya her warning, and advises that the Soldier is her commanding officer. That Vanya should just take Mercy and go...

"Hope that your friend takes your advice," he muses, turning his knife in his hand.

"My command is simple," the Winter Soldier says. He speaks in English to be understood, the smile on his face at odds with the cold emptiness in his eyes. "Kill them both."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"He doesn't really need an army." Calls out the coyote, her steps taking her further away and while she faintly wishes she knew Russian, she doesn't. Not that she necessarily needs to, not at this stage of the game.

Now this very bad idea of finding the Soldier has turned into the terrible time of trying to stay alive.

Really, you think Mercy would have learned from Dean Winchester's mistake, but /clearly/ she didn't. Dumb Mercy just dumb.

Like the Soldier, Mercy too is keeping a keen eye upon him and Akula, but to be honest it's mostly him. While the Shark-Girl is likely dangerous in Mercy's mind Bucky is far more dangerous. Far more. And his words, in English, cement that notion within the coyote's head. Those 'cute toys' of hers are thrown again. They may not be as aerodynamic as the EMPs but they'll still fly. They arc high upward on a trajectory course towards the position of the two upon the pier. The electrical charge the taser grenades hold is a bit more powerful than what can get on the market. Only because these are homemade; homemade weapons rarely have the same federal restrictions as what's on the market.

And even as those two bombs leave her hands Mercy hears those last words of the Winter Soldier's. It's enough to bring another layer of grimness to her features. "When you come to your senses you're going to regret all of this." Snaps Mercy, her voice rising slightly in pitch with those words of hers. She has to believe that in the end there will be a happy ending. They'll find Claire alive. They'll be able to get Winter Soldier back to a more normal and sane version of himself. That they'll be able to beat the hydra and Hydra; that all of this wasn't for naught.

The death of the two wolves wasn't just a waste. The pain of everyone involved wasn't - isn't just an endless torment. That things will get better. That there are happy endings within the world.

Hope. It's all Mercy Thompson has.

Feral has posed:
At the mention of fear, Vanya glances to Mercy before returning to Akula. Winter, the mission objective, is already a fading distraction as a distant lamp illuminates the spreading stripes along her body and the were-woman tosses her shirt skyward, allowing saw-toothed gray scales to cover her growing form. The old Russian flexes stretching claws and smiles a mouthful of dagger-like teeth before whipping her head to the side to fling off her glasses. The eyes that look back at Akula are eager and gray as a transparent eyelid sweeps sideways across them.

Vanya's more than just smelling like a tiger-shark now.

"She says ith you're scared, run now or you'll die," she translates casually for Mercy's benefit, adding to the Winter Soldier's grim command as her voice coming out in an awkward growl around extra teeth.

<<"I haven't had a good fight in weeks. Thank you for...">> Vanya's shark-smile slips as she stares into Akula's deadly serious expression. The were-woman chuckles ruefully and takes a wide stance, leaning far forward until her long claws touch the ground. The feral glee that was in her eyes fades, usurped by keen focus while her tattered jeans flap in the sea breeze. In the moment of relative calm before Mercy's latest grenades go off, the smaller wereshark tenses and she makes ready.

<<"Nevermind.">>

Akula has posed:
Akula isn't going to stand around and be pelted a second time; for something so big, she moves with uncanny agility. Rolling right she tumbles back into the water to avoid the two grenades, trusting that Winter is very much capable of enacting his own evasive maneuvers. She gives him space to move; packed in together they have less space to stay out of each other's way, let alone the incoming IEDs.

Once in the water there is a tremendous splash and Akula moves like a torpedo through the waves, turning and then propelling herself faster and faster, until she leaps out of the water towards Vanya like an out of control jet ski. Her arms are forward to grasp onto the smaller wereshark and her mouth is open for a bite.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier simply watches, at first, as events unfold. Vanya's transformation, Akula's engagement of her, and then-- finally-- the flight of the grenades from Mercy. His blue eyes track their trajectory upwards.

Then he steps into motion, from stillness to blurring speed in half a second. He vanishes among the brush surrounding the path, like the ghost he is said to be. He is gone from sight fifteen seconds, half a minute.

Then his silent figure is slicing like a knife out of the dark and the cover around them, slowing out of its quick silent lope into a steady walk that aims to cut into Mercy's path. He is still twenty feet distant from her, but with how quickly he can move, he might as well be standing next to her.

"You want to know about Claire?" he wonders, flipping the knife in his right hand.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
As soon as the taser grenades are out of her hands Mercy is once more reaching into the bag that hangs at her hip.

Like before two more grenades are withdrawn.

Another EMP and the one that was previously placed back into her bag. A 'secret weapon' one.

Vanya's translation is heard by the coyote and it's enough to allow Mercy to huff to herself, "Pretty sure we'd still be dead."

And while those words are quite serious they're not contemplated too heavily upon. Not when Akula launches herself at Vanya and then the Winter Soldier side-steps and disappears from view. The now empty pier is the only witness to the taser grenades releasing their charge. The distinct sound of electricity crackling can be heard for several seconds before those metallic shells clatter lightly to the ground. Their stored energy now depleted.

As for Mercy, that twenty feet turns into ten feet, as the coyote takes a second too long to pinpoint where her adversary is. Sure, she realizes where he is far quicker than a normal person would, but it's still too slow for her taste. That forward moment of hers is jerked to a stop and while her gaze goes to the knife he's so casually flipping it's his words that cause the coyote's gaze to snap back to his face. Her gaze narrows as she considers how to respond to that question of his. "I do, but I'm not stupid." She begins, her voice flat, "Anything you say is probably going to be a lie. There's no reason for me to trust you, or what you say."

Feral has posed:
Vanya's eyes Akula hawkishly and braces as the larger shark rolls but doesn't pursue; it's a false opening. Finned and gilled or not, she's not that eager to chase the titanic soldier into her home turf.

As the dark shadow rockets back out of the water, Vanya digs her claws into the pavement and roars a challenge as she springs forward and thrusts her own arms out, meeting the shark missile head-on and hoping - if she can - to flip the larger Soviet backwards after trading blood with claws alone.

No matter what, half a ton of Russia's finest beasts are about to collide.

Akula has posed:
Akula tries to grab onto Vanya's shoulders and arms if possible, her grip carrying with it a strength powerful enough to catch a speeding semi and tear open its engine block. She lunges in towards Vanya's head and neck for a bite. She's completely open to being heaved, but there's a risk that, given her 500+ pound weight, she might have too much to move - it all depends on Vanya's strength. She doesn't seem to care if the other shark bites her; her own skin is thick and strong enough that bullets bounce and knives skid. If she can maintain a hold on Vanya, she won't let go, even if tossed.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Soldier's eyes track first to the EMP in Mercy's hand, and then to the other one she holds. His head cants a little: he obviously doesn't recognize the second, and he is curious enough that he keeps his distance, for now. It's clear despite the token precautions, however, that he still considers Mercy something of a toy; he even takes his eyes briefly off her to glance right, checking on Akula as the two were-creatures clash. She seems to be holding her own well enough, so his eyes track back to Mercy.

Her answer to his question brings a smile to cross his features. "Touchy," he says of her. "I haven't told you a lie yet, that I can remember. I've been mostly truthful. I was telling the truth when I said she's fine, and that she's fine because of me. She asked me not to hurt any of you."

He flicks his knife to a reverse grip and starts to advance. "I can make it not hurt," he says, his tone as bland as fresh-fallen snow, the indifference to it a stark contrast to his wordless implication.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy's back is to Akula and Vanya, but she can hear the fight. She can't quite tell what's going on, but she can hear the two. She can only hope Vanya will hold her own.

That she'll win.

That grim expression upon Mercy's features shifts to something close to anger. The coyote's nostrils likewise flare as she samples the scents around the two, really four, but mostly the two. She's looking to see what the Soldier's scent reveals about his words and when she finds no lie within them, she nods. "No, you haven't outright lied to me." She agrees, her continuing to hold that toneless quality to it, "But that doesn't mean you're telling me the whole truth. It's easy to leave off a key word or phrase and still have it come across as truth."

The revelation that Claire asked him not to hurt any of them causes Mercy's expression to drop. Worry, concern, outrage, all of those emotions war for dominance upon the coyote's features. It's worry and concern that win the battle, however. Those emotions of hers coupled with what he reveals prompts several quiet questions from the coyote, "Have you asked yourself why you protect her? It's not like you really need her, right? So, why do you do it? Why keep her safe."

The rest of what she could have said trails off when he starts to advance. That last statement of his is enough to cause the mechanic's nostrils to flare again as she inhales sharply; though hardly for a scent check. No, this time it's fear based. "If you kill me -" Mercy says tightly, "- Claire will never forgive you or herself. Do you want that?" While it's likely pointless to appeal to his more humane side, she still tries. That also doesn't stop Mercy from beginning to back away from his forward advance.

Mercy's grip upon both grenades tightens, though she has yet to prime either one of them.

Feral has posed:
The two sharks collide with a force that shudders the air around them and knocks up a cloud of dust. Akula's longer arms find a purchase in Vanya's shoulders as the smaller shark tries to grip into her biceps and hold her back. Even the smaller shark is like hitting a car but sheer momentum sends the pair of them back where Vanya came; her own claws slide, blunting themselves against rows of sharp scales before she clamps down with the force of a vice. It's enough to hold back the open maw but little more.

Vanya for her part is wide-eyed with surprise as much as pain.

As they hit the ground and the chimeric Russian is dug into the pavement, she kicks down on reflex and throws herself back, using Akula's bulk to turn her tackle into a flip even if it drags her along for the ride. Her own scales aren't as hard and bits are left behind in the trench.

Akula has posed:
Akula is tossed up and over, landing hard, not letting go of Vanya, trying to tear free any flesh she can. She's been given her orders, and while she will be sad to lose Vanya, General Winter has spoken.

Biting into Vanya's shoulder, she refuses to give up; she tries to pull the other back down, like two wrestlers clotheslining each other, both falling over. There's no need to speak any words; there is only the efficiency to think of. To the other Russian's credit, she isn't afraid. It's the only thing keeping them all alive right now, as the smell and taste of blood awakens deeper, bestial instincts.

The force of the hit momentarily winds Akula, and there's a loosening of her bite, enough that Vanya might be able to get free.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Have you asked yourself why you protect her?

The Winter Soldier is silent. His eyes study Mercy, and from the look in them it is clear he knows the answer to her question-- but isn't about to share with her. Not the full answer, anyway. "Do you really /need/ everything that you keep?" he asks rhetorically. "She's not without her uses, anyway. She killed my previous medic, after all."

If you kill me, Mercy insists, Claire will never forgive you-- or herself. The Soldier smiles, a rueful and bitter expression. "That doesn't matter. It's all only temporary," he says softly, the sweep of decades in his voice. "I only have until the next freeze. Then, after that-- this, again."

He closes in a heartbeat. A sharp whine of metal and whirring servos heralds his left arm snapping forwards, trying to lock about Mercy's throat, to bear her down to the ground on her back and pin her. He hasn't used his knife yet. Will he use it, or just tighten his grip and break her neck? He looks like he's deciding.

"This is what I do," he says, still as dispassionate as if this were nothing personal. To him, it really isn't anything personal. "I don't need anyone's forgiveness for it."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Like you can't get another medic from within /Hydra/." Mercy says, her voice all but spitting out the word 'Hydra'. "You're doing it for other re -" Reasons.

That word doesn't quite finish, not when he mentions the 'next freeze'. Her brows furrow toward the midline of her face a question there; so many questions. Too many questions.

Questions that are ruthlessly shoved aside. There's no time for her to work out these puzzles. No time at all. What she does have time for is to prime the EMP grenade with a quick touch of her thumb to button. The countdown within the grenade begins.

Then he's closing the distance between the two and Mercy isn't quite fast enough to avoid that hand of death. He'll find his grip secure around her throat as he ruthlessly pins her to the ground. While the EMP grenade is dropped down near her side the other grenade is valiantly held by the coyote.

it's only after the world has stopped moving and Mercy finds herself upon said ground with the Soldier speaking so dispassionately above, that something within Mercy snaps. The second grenade is now primed and it'll only be five seconds before the sedative is released, but that's enough time for the woman to snarl. "Not mine, or Claire's, but your own. You'll need to learn how to forgive yourself for /everything/ you've done. Everything." Having just tasted that brand of forgiveness Mercy's voice now holds a note of pain, intense pain. Those poor dead wolves.

And with only three seconds to spare Mercy's form suddenly shifts. It's no longer that of a 5'6" and 120-some pound woman, now she's much smaller. Forty pounds at most and four-legged. The coyote thrusts all four claw-tipped paws at the Winter Soldier's torso. Intending to sharply gouge at what she can. She also lurches her furry head forward, snapping with that movement as she tries to bite his face. Or really any part of him. Except that arm. Not the metal arm.

Feral has posed:
Vanya is tough but her arms aren't adamantium and the soldier's claws rend her bloody as they tear scales and cut into sinew. All the way down to the marrow the chimera's body feels reinforced and packed-in, but her wounds bleed freely and quickly coat them both in a sharp, coppery red.

The were-woman struggles and growls as she lashes her own teeth, roaring in pain as Akula sinks her teeth into her shoulder before she manages to wrench herself free and kick off hard against the larger beast's stomach, catapulting herself a safe distance.

Panting and wide-eyed with the adrenaline-drenched focus of an animal fighting for its life, Vanya looks... less than stellar with her own blood rolling down her scales and flesh torn apart but somehow, for some reason, she's still smiling.

Fur begins to grow from the seams in her sharkskin and the chimera's form shifts, darkening and enlarging further while at the same time hiding its injuries in a dense coat of fur. A hump of pure muscle swells on the were-woman's back while her face elongates and shark teeth reshape themselves into long fangs. It's a werewolf - almost. Mercy might notice, but even werewolves don't have a coat of fur *that* black or eyes the color of brimstone and blood.

Vanya snarls as she digs her new claws into the pavement, carving five trenches to a side as she lowers her head. A trail of blood down her forehead falls into the runic brand across her face and traces its edge in bright red. The were-beast throws back her head and trumpets out a long, powerful howl while visibly, the gash in her shoulder starts to cover itself with more fur. But there's only a moment to watch the chimera's own accelerated healing at work before she ends her shout and explodes forward, pouncing at Akula with hands, feet, and fanged maw bared - all her weapons presented towards the towering shark.

Akula has posed:
Akula has enough time to catch her breath while Vanya transforms, howls and foams. Rolling quickly to her side, she maintains a steely focus, just as she would have during the war, just as she would have in that hell of sand and heat. Here, near the water, she has the advantage, especially now that Vanya has given up her aquatic form.

She runs forward in a short dash, as if to try the same tactic twice, but a few steps before impact she feints, turns and delivers a low sweep - but not with her feet. With her tail. Solid muscle with a hardened edge on a thresher shark tail swing towards Vanya's legs with a loud SNAP, the sound barrier broken by the force of the blow.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Apparently, the Winter Soldier didn't like her insinuation he was doing it for other reasons.

His eyes flare and he lunges, his momentum and strength putting her on her back on the ground in a split second, with a terrible jar of her spine against cement. Cold metal tightens about her throat, but doesn't yet cinch down hard enough to kill. He's still watching her with vague boredom, like something harmless to him, giving himself enough time to debate at leisure how to break this toy he's abruptly tired of.

But even the smallest prey always bites back.

She says something -- about him needing to forgive himself. He doesn't understand it-- though some part of him murmurs that he should. It transparently confuses him, his eyes narrowing, and that moment of distraction is enough for Mercy to abruptly shift. That catches him by surprise-- he's never seen her directly change before-- and though her claws don't find much purchase through the heavy leather jacket he's wearing, her fangs do even as he jerks to one side. A short slash rips down the side of his neck, just beneath the corner of his jaw. She tastes a hint of his blood.

Then the world turns upside down, because-- enraged-- he's wound up and flung her with his left arm. It is hard enough to kill her if she lands wrong, and also in a most uncomfortable direction: straight towards where Vanya and Akula are clashing by the river.

The second grenade starts to hiss at his side. He cuts it a sharp look, and moves, loping away from it and back towards the engagement at the river's edge.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
While others might howl with triumph that they succeeded in biting the Winter Soldier, Mercy doesn't. Both in part because she doesn't enjoy attacking people, but more importantly she's suddenly airborne.

Her little coyote form is tossed quite rudely and while Mercy isn't quite a cat, her reflexes are enough to allow the woman to begin to twist her body into some semblance of a four-footed landing. It's a hard landing though.

A bone-jarring thing. And while she lands upon her feet it's more of a *splat* landing than an actual sure-footed thing. She's definitely going to have bruises upon feet and hands when this is all over. For a handful of seconds the coyote stands there stunned. Small lightning bolts of pain lancing from feet to legs to shoulders and hips. Eventually though, the sound of the other two women's fight jars her back to awareness.

The yellow-eyed coyote barks a loud YIP, but what that means isn't entirely clear. It could be warning or curse. Or perhaps a bit of both.

From that hissing grenade a localized blue gas suddenly fills the area where assassin and coyote just were. The cloud of gas will linger there for several minutes, hanging heavily within the air.

While Mercy is going to mourn the loss of her bag and what grenades remain within, the plan has no changed. Now the plan is all about escaping and as such, the coyote moves towards the two battling women.

Feral has posed:
Vanya's sheer aggression saves her legs as she leaps well ahead of Akula to present her foot-claws in a pounce with bloodthirsty eyes but as the titanic shark's tail whips around ahead of an ear-splitting snap, it slams into her thigh, then her side, then her chest...

Iron-hard bones are forced to flex as Vanya crumples around the tail and over three hundred pounds of monstrous wolf go flying like a softball off a bat and careens loudly into the bushes further inland, splintering the small timbers and coming to a stop with an almighty wooden *CRACK!* that shudders and wounds a thick tree.

Akula has posed:
    Tail bloodied from the hellhound-form's claws, Akula pauses to scene the air. Her pupils are fully dialaged, and her active humanity is sinking further and further into the icy waters of her bestial other half. The yelp of what sounds like an injured animal catches her attention. She's expending energy, and the thought of consuming Mercy crosses her instincts.
    She turns towards Mercy and stalks forward. The raked flesh around her tail is already starting to scab up and heal over.
    Vanya will need to hurry.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Previously just idly amused at Mercy's aggression, the Winter Soldier no longer seems interested in being playful or careless. She drew a little of his blood, and now he's just angry. Angry enough that he sees Akula's intent, registers it-- and does nothing, says nothing to stop her. Let her have a bite.

His path back towards the engagement, a swift loping run along the edge of the water, takes him past a small pier where boats traveling up and down the East River are occasionally moored. He glances right, pauses, and stops long enough to seize hold of a heavy anchor chain with his left hand, metal clashing on metal as he winds the wrist-thick chain in a steel grip-- and snaps it clear off its mooring ring, tearing its last link open with a shriek of his arm's internals.

Vanya will need to hurry-- and also to get past the Winter Soldier, thus armed, moving to block her from interfering in Akula indulging herself.

There's something else on Mercy's side now, at least: the fact that the world has taken notice. Previously a rather quiet engagement other than the snapping roars and snarls of the two monstrous combatants-- few of Mercy's grenades are the sort that make a whole lot of noise, per se-- that swiftly changed once Vanya was sent crashing through a series of small trees, to nearly crack a larger oak in half with the impact of her back.

The commotion is finally drawing some attention. Mistaking the sound of the tree splintering for a gunshot, some not-too-distant civilians have called the police, and their confused shouting and screaming can be heard as they finally get a line of sight on the violent tableau.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Adrenalin is the only thing that helps Mercy move in a semblance of four-footed surety. If it weren't for that particular hormone coursing through the coyote's system she'd like be limping something horrible.

And while she was about to go running after Vanya something stops her. A sixth sense that tells the coyote to turn around. To see what's stalking her. Because something is.

Seeing Akula step towards her Mercy shows all her sharpened ivory teeth. An audible growl can be heard from the russet and cream coyote. While she offers that bravado to the shark woman, Mercy begins to back up. It's not quite a scrabble, but it soon will be.

The shriek of distressed metal registers upon the sensitive coyote's ears and it causes the four-footed Mercy to risk a side-eye towards the sound. If Mercy were human she'd probably be cussing right about now, but since she isn't, all the coyote can do is offer a world-weary look. It's an expression that shouts - 'Oh come on! What did I do to deserve this?' - which answers itself. She went looking for trouble and she found it.

Whipping her head back around to Akula the coyote watches that animalistic woman continue to advance and Mercy makes her decision. Pivoting up paws Mercy now runs. She runs as fast as her long-legged form allows - which is faster than your typical coyote. While it's not superhuman speed, for those with their eyes upon her, the coyote will go from zero to speeding in under a second. A speed of sixty miles per hour may not seem like much, but hopefully it'll be enough to escape. Her path is a generalized arc that leads away from Akula, away from the Soldier, but in the generalized direction of where Vanya landed. Even before she can see the other were-woman Mercy is barking a loud YIP. A demanding YIP. Something that says 'move now'.

It's time to run and fast.

Mercy's ego doesn't need to be placated by death.

Feral has posed:
    The collapsed pile of woodlands shifts and crackles as Vanya drags herself out. There's a splintering sound as her claws carve through cracked bark before burning red eyes glare out with a steamy huff. The edge of were-woman's night-black form glistens where the light touches it through the trees, soaked with its own blood, but the rest is a featureless expanse of fur - too dark to hold any details.
    
    Catching sight first of the Winter Soldier, the beast looks past him after barely a moment to find Akula advancing on the coyote. She growls as a last crackle announces her legs pulling free of foliage. There's a distinct lopsidedness to how the were-beast is standing, favoring the side that wasn't just smashed by a tail, but it's not enough to stop her from grabbing a damaged shrub with one large, meaty hand and wrenching it out of the ground.
    
    Hefting the whole mangled thing over her head, Vanya roars as she lurches into an alarmingly fast limping run and chucks the man-sized shrub at the man in front of her. The were-beast falls into a four-legged gallop and opens her maw.

What Akula did to her she's about to do to the Winter Soldier.

Akula has posed:
    Mercy is far too fast for Akula to catch up with on land. Her prey out of sight, she gurgles lowly, sniffing --

    And then a large bit of vegetation goes sailing past, followed by an angry snarl and the thud of hands and feet charging. The sound of police in the distance. There will be more here soon, and she doesn't have enough higher brain to call it a night.

    Akula ROARS, and rushes towards Vanya to intercept her. It's not so much for Winter Soldier's benefit - though his voice would be enough to snap her out of her growing frenzy - it's that Vanya is intruding on her feeding grounds and has to be driven out. There's little tactics to the charge, it's just solid muscle looking to freight train into Vanya.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Vanya careens, train-like, towards the Winter Soldier, hurling the heavy shrub she's uprooted before her. The assassin contemplates this calmly, his head tilting. When he finally moves, it's as a blur.

Metal shrieks. His left arm snaps up, lashing the chain at an upwards diagonal towards the right in a singing arc, fast and hard enough that the length of it turns into an impromptu blade. It slashes the projectile clean in two, the halves of it skittering off to either side. Instead of trying to cancel the chain's swing and bring it back under control, the Soldier turns with it, twisting into a rapid dodge to the right to take himself out of the charging were-beast's path, and catching the free-swinging end of the chain in his right hand once its momentum has sufficiently slowed.

Akula might have no tactics at the moment, but the Soldier has plenty. He slides out of the immediate vicinity of the two struggling werebeasts to give room for Akula to plow in. And the moment Akula comes in from the front, he pincers in from the back, aiming to step a path, with trained lightness, straight up the monstrous werewolf's spine-- and to prevent himself from being thrown right back off his perch again by looping the chain around Vanya's throat to twist it brutally taut.

Mercy, for her part, can definitely hear approaching police. And what sounds like an incoming SWAT team-- or few. Clearly people calling in reported just how crazy things just got. The Winter Soldier hears it too, because between the snapshots of violence, he hisses, "Akula!" in a sharp imperative. "Militsiya!"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
And now Vanya is bursting back onto the scene.

It's enough to cause Mercy-coyote to skid to stop, her claws scrabbling against the ground. When the coyote sees the other were-woman going for the Winter Soldier, Mercy can't quite help the snarls that leave her throat. Coyote swearing at its best, it seems.

Sensitive ears prick at the sound of approaching voices, their steps, the clink of weapons being pulled, already in hand. The SWAT teams heavier foot falls, as well.

Her yellow-eyed gaze stays upon Akula, Winter Soldier and Vanya and for endless seconds the coyote stands stationary. Then she's moving again. Away from the group. Unlike the others Mercy is just a lone coyote and she has nothing to offer in that form; that doesn't mean she doesn't have anything to offer, it's just going to take a minute. The coyote's path is taking her back to her abandoned messenger bag. Where the bombs are.

Feral has posed:
So the metal-armed soldier flings himself out of the way - that's just fine with Vanya. Her brimstone eyes alight as she sees the shark barreling in behind him and just keeps charging, building to an impressive speed of her own with all four limbs forcing her forward. Gouges and torn soil are left in her wake - on land, she's the faster predator.

As the two beasts near a second thundering meeting, the wolf leaps and flings her legs out to the side behind her; this time she's not taking the mammoth shark in a test of strength. If she latches, or if Akula latches onto her, the sheer force will still snap her up and over in a flip.

Sure it's a police dog tactic but it works for bigger ones too.

Akula has posed:
Akula isn't thinking enough to do anything about Vanya's quick movements; she misses Vanya in that leap, and as the kick comes, she's thrust forwards and down into the ground, digging an enormous furrow, tearing up sidewalk as she goes. She's bruised and bleeding, but she won't be for long. The wounds on her tail are now nothing more than dried blood.
    Winter's voice cuts through the mental fog like a spotlight. Militsya. Police. There are other people here, and if she doesn't leave, she'll start killing. It will be Afghanistan all over again.
    With a frustrated, animalistic snarl she shakes her head and forces herself to turn back to the ocean. She has to get into the cold water and clear her head. She has to get out of the smell of blood. Unless impeded, she darts for the water and drives in.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The first shouts of the incoming SWAT teams start to pierce the scene, and the Winter Soldier turns his head towards the noise. Time to go, and with not even a spare moment to shoot Mercy in the back while she's getting her bag. Ah well -- there will be later. There is always later. The Winter Soldier has lived long enough to have learned the kind of endless patience that animal predators are born with.

"Akula!" he repeats, his voice trying to pierce the bloodlust as he disengages from the conflict. It seems he was successful the first time around, however, and as he himself turns to quit the scene, splitting away from Akula so any pursuit would have to pick one to chase, he keeps an eye on her until she's vanished beneath the choppy surface of the dark water.

Feral has posed:
    Akula isn't the only one to snarl at the fight interrupted. As Vanya completes her spring-board off the shark and skids to a stop back on all fours, she watches in angry confusion as her adversary dives for the coast. The wide, blood-red stare speaks for the unintelligible werewolf: 'Police? So what!?'
    
    Turning her head away in disgust, the furred beast sniffs the air and scowls. Oh, that's what... that's a lot of cops. Nothing bothering to shift into anything less alarming yet, Vanya lurches out of the tiny trench her claws have dug and bolts away in the rough direction of the coyote. A blood trail follows her away but it too will close up eventually - the feral woman can heal fast but she's second to Akula.
    
    Second to Akula in a lot of things, her whole left side is now reminding as the were-woman winces.