The ALPH Team

Well, this was getting interesting. Garth just barely dodged a second Razor Wind attack from the black Absol, leaving him dangling precariously from his branch by one arm. May have to be careful around that one, he thought, grinning from ear to ear as he hoisted himself back up again, relishing the thought of a thrilling battle to the death with the bad-tempered Dark-type. But then, Clyde literally started to beat the living shit out of the tree he was in. "Hmm..." Garth rested his hand underneath his chin as he regarded the Normal-type's vicious temper. It wasn't this bad even before... After a while, the tree's incessant shaking began to get on his nerves, and he carefully stood up on his branch. "All right! If you want to see my beautiful face so badly, I'll get down! No need to tire yourself out, jeez."

Garth launched himself through the leaves and landed on the path near to Lalita. "Hello darling," he smirked, offering her a sly wink. He had to laugh as the Combusken charged up a Flare Blitz and practically threw herself at the now-empty tree. "Hey! Clucky! Over here, sweetheart!"

He stopped falling about laughing for a moment to quickly scan his surroundings. The Leafeon had abandoned her friends and ran off. Hmph. Wimp. He had no use for her, though. His two targets were right in front of him, one of which still had that beautiful, finely crafted scar on his chest. Oops ... did I pass on some nasty germies? Garth hadn't realised that he was laughing again, hysterically this time. "Look at Mr Grumpy! I did a good job there, didn't I? He's even more pissed off now! Ooh, it won't be long now! You'd better let me put him out of his misery, and fast!"

Two sets of eyes watched in confusion as Circe took off into the trees, soft amaranth pink matched by darkened crimson both turned to each other seeking out some kind of answer but finding none. Nothing made sense. Garth was taunting the group with his words and his movements, leaving Clyde to pound uselessly on a tree and Champagne slamming into a tree and setting the wood ablaze. All while the demented reptile settled himself neatly next to Lalita, much to her horror.

"Hello darling." The lavender Ninetales jumped back in horror, teeth bared defensively as she tried not to let him get under her skin. It wasn't working. Calamity snapped at the Grovyle, warning him to back the hell off, before stepping in front of the female protectively. Garth just seemed to find the whole situation amusing as he merely continued on his taunt of the group. And that laugh, that haunting and maniacal laugh, it just never ended. Lalita shook her head and tried to will the voice to go away, to make it stop, and it was all Calamity could to sit there and watch her suffer.

"Look at Mr Grumpy! I did a good job there, didn't I? He's even more pissed off now! Ooh, it won't be long now! You'd better let me put him out of his misery, and fast!" Calamity snarled and swiped a paw to get Garth to shut up but his words struck a cord. Looking to the ferocious Vigaroth, who had been getting more and more volatile since his arrival, the Absol finally noticed that the x-shaped wounds on his chest never seemed to heal. Was he...did he get infected? If that was indeed the case then it seemed the shiny behind him was unaware or she would be even more upset then she was already. And if she found out...

"Fuzzy?" The soft whimper came from behind. "What is he talking about?" Oh shit.

"W-watch out!"

Clyde, the need to vent his anger so severe, had been lucky to hear Champagne’s warning. Snapping his head around, greeted with the approaching flames, the Vigoroth leapt out of harm’s way to watch the tree go up in smoke. He stood aside of it, eyes feverishly scanning for glimpse of that slimy reptile until that smug little purr reigned out far too close from comfort. Garth stood nonchalantly near Lalita and Calamity, his suddenly maniacal laughing only proceeding to evoke the Vigoroth further. Clyde’s expression was akin to one hell-bent on murder.

"Look at Mr Grumpy! I did a good job there, didn't I? He's even more pissed off now! Ooh, it won't be long now! You'd better let me put him out of his misery, and fast!"

The rage overwhelming Clyde’s features subsided at the Grovyle’s words. Confusion replacing such raw hatred, the Vigoroth paused, his body heaving in fatigue as Garth’s taunt registered. It won’t be long? Looking down to the cross-shape on his chest, Clyde noticed that the blood was still steadily trickling from it. The wound had never closed. Lifting a claw to the injury, the Vigoroth felt no pain as he peeled back an amount of the skin, his chest completely numb. It wasn’t until he caught glimpse of purple within the flowing red that everything made sense.

Winded by the revelation, Clyde staggered back, claw recoiling in panic. He shook his head viciously, unable to accept the evidence spreading beneath his skin. He was infected. He and that bastard were the same.
“…No,”

"Fuzzy? What is he talking about?"

A lump had built in the Vigoroth’s throat as he turned to the Ninetales, jaw agape. He couldn’t say anything if he tried. He wouldn’t accept this. He wasn’t infected – he was okay, he would survive this just like he’d survived everything else. A look of sorrow flashed within his eyes, now almost entirely red, as shook his head, denial taking the reins of his fragile mind. Attention snapping back to Garth, his temper was only slight quelled by the news.
“Y-You’re lying!” He snarled, though a fearful doubt had seeped into his tone. Fur bristling, the image of the purple puss hidden amongst the blood deleted from his memory, Clyde’s earlier hostility returned. He was fine. It was just one of Garth’s mind games. The creep was just trying to get a reaction, scare him. Clyde knew his tricks and whilst he could see past such lies, his claws craved the Grovyle’s rotten flesh.

Flashes of purple had begun to blot out what rationality he had left. As his claws twitched, a furious growl the epitome of his hatred, Clyde snapped. The blue had left his orbs, a deep crimson replacing the purity as they latched, ferocious, onto Garth’s form.
“I’ll kill you!” He roared, his legs moving without meaning as he stampeded towards the grass-type. Tearing lumps of dirt from the earth out with each footfall, the rest of the world became a blur to the Vigoroth as thoughts of only Garth’s decapitation tempted his thoughts. Switching to two feet as he neared, Clyde aimed a Hammer Arm directly at the reptile’s throat.

[OOC: Please skip me. ;~; I'm having a hard time getting into character.
Lt's just say Champagne got angry at Garth for calling her 'Clucky', and in an uncharacteristically rough voice, screamed at him to shut up.]

As Circe rushed into the underbrush, she paused as she looked back, panting, waiting for a sign that this "Garth" was following her. Surely a helpless, beautiful specimen such as herself would attract the creature. But as she perked and twitched her ears, she heard no telltale snaps of twigs, nor the maniacle laughter that the grovyle seemed infected with... amongst other things...

But soon enough, she heard his voice, at a very disconcerting distance. "Look at Mr Grumpy! I did a good job there, didn't I? He's even more pissed off now! Ooh, it won't be long now! You'd better let me put him out of his misery, and fast!" Circe huffed, her light cheeks puffing indignantly. How dare he not take in such appealing lure!? She knew he was infected, but they at least knew how to play their part! Fur bristling, she trotted back, spying on the scene from the vegetation. Just what had the thing so damned occupied?

“…No.”

"Fuzzy? What is he talking about?"

Circe watched, her vapid mind coming quickly to a conclusion. So Anger Issues was infected? She could only guess by what Garth had mentioned and the way he peeled back his own skin without a flinch. Her eyes went to the grovyle, silently asking him to be allies. But when Apey went apeshit, she gasped. Her only ally in killing that shiny bitch and her beau-- she couldn't just sit there! And with Crazy Face, who knew if she'd even make it out alive to even get to the Queen B? An eruption of Magical Leaves burst from the underbrush, hopefully catching the vigoroth before the Hammer Arm came down. She turned to Garth, trying to catch eyes with him and mouthed, 'I want to help.'

Hopefully, he'd get it.

"...No." This was brilliant; absolutely fucking brilliant. Clyde's look of horror was simply priceless. Garth couldn't help but laugh at the Vigoroth as his entire world came crashing down on him. "H-Hey!" Garth's tone oozed with mock surprise as he moodily folded his arms. "What's that look for? I assumed you knew. It is kinda obvious y'know. But don't worry," he paused to try and suppress the sly grin creeping onto his bloodied face, "I'm in the same boat as you, right? I can help you out; I know what you're going through. What do you say?" He knew that it was unlikely that Clyde would agree to accept his 'help' and even if he did the others would have something to say about it, but it was worth a try.

But of course, it was not to be. "Y-You're lying!" Clyde roared, the orbs of his eyes turning redder with every second. "I’ll kill you!" So it looked as though Clyde was going to die by force rather than stealth, and at this moment in time, Garth did not care. All he wanted was for that bastard's blood to stain his claws. The Vigoroth roared in fury and charged at him, and Garth was more than ready to dodge when a torrent of multi-coloured leaves shot out of the undergrowth towards the crazed Normal-type. What the--? Garth looked in their direction and spotted the Leafeon that had run off before. She mouthed something at him, and Garth stared at her for a moment while he figured out what she had said: 'I want to help.'

Well what an interesting turn of events this was turning out to be. It seemed that he wasn't the only one holding a grudge. At this moment, Garth didn't care why the fellow Grass-type wanted the odd little party dead; all he was thinking about was when it was all over he could kill her as well, just like all the others who had trusted him. For now, though, he mouthed 'Stay,' at her while he waited to see whether the Magical Leaf had successfully intercepted Clyde.

((EDIT:)) Garth flexed his claws impatiently, the need to tear into the tender, moist flesh of the Pokemon before him growing more and more intense with every passing second. A strong, pulsing headache started to creep into his temple, and he let out a low groan as he pinched his nose ridge. The Grovyle's breath propelled its way out of his lungs in short gasps. He could almost feel their beating hearts pounding in his head; the vital organ that keeps the hot, delicious blood flowing through their bodies. The taste of that blood was becoming more and more satisfying with each kill he made. He needed to taste it again. Now.

Snapping his head up, Garth practically drooled with anticipation as he eyed the other Pokemon hungrily, his yellow eyes boring into their soft flesh; the tender spot on the neck where the pulse flickered. He tensed himself, ready to attack the nearest target when a shape emerged from the trees to his left. A Houndoom, no doubt about to interfere and tell him that what he was doing was wrong and he was evil blah blah blah. Well he wouldn't have it. He already had Clucky and Mr Moody to deal with; he didn't need anybody else getting in his way. He needed that blood or he would die.

The Houndoom now his closest target, Garth barely gave the dual-type a second to register what was going on before he lunged at him with a scream of fury, tackling him to the ground and holding down his head. The canine snarled in protest, snapped his jaws and thrashed his body underneath him, trying in vain to remove the insane Grovyle on top of him. Eyes wide with ever-growing madness, Garth's snarl turned into a twisted grin of glee when he spotted the Houndoom's pulse underneath that thin layer of fur and skin, pounding faster and faster with every passing second. So much blood all in one place. "THAT'S MINE!"

Garth raised one arm and swung it downwards, the Leaf Blade attack slicing open the jugular vein on the Houndoom's neck. Immediately the creature stiffened, his entire body going rigid underneath him as a fountain of blood erupted from the tear on his neck. Unleashing a burst of insane laughter, Garth hacked again and again, a guttural moan of delight rumbling from his throat as the Houndoom attempted in vain to scream for help, his voice having been cut away from existence by the Grovyle's razor-sharp blades. A low, sickening gurgle sounded in the dying canine's throat as the blood started to surface. "MINE!" Grabbing the Houndoom's upper jaw and yanking it open, Garth practically stuck out his tongue and caught the blood as the Houndoom vomited it. The oozy, hot liquid slipped down his throat like liquor, and Garth raised his head and screeched at the sky in triumph before digging his snout into the massive hole in the Houndoom's neck, tearing away at the flesh and swallowing it whole as his victim's legs twitched in their last, vain attempts to live again.

Finally remembering who was actually standing nearby and had no doubt been watching the kill, Garth raised his head and gave them all a wide grin, his snout stained with the blood and nerve endings of the dead Houndoom, pink drool still dangling from his lower jaw. "...See? Don't you see? This is what I will do. To all of you." The orbs of his eyes flickered as he stood up, his entire body trembling so violently he looked as though he was having a fit. A rumbling growl, deep even for him, sounded from his throat as he opened his bloody jaw and screamed until there was practically no air left in his lungs. He felt no need to refill them.

"I'LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!" he screeched, firing one Energy Ball after another, no longer caring about who died first. As long as he would have their blood, he no longer cared. Garth was hungry.

Fuzzy didn't answer her but wound up doing something much more terrifying. He went crazy and started attacking Garth. But it wasn't just a normal assault, he was blind with rage and going after him in a ruthless assault more hell bent on pain then actual battle. It was frightening to watch and the Ninetales didn't know what to do with it. Not wanting her friend to get hurt she started to go and try and help him when a spray of leaves suddenly went after Clyde. Whirling around she saw Circe and was shocked. Was she trying to hit him?

Calamity also saw the sneak attack and stood between Circe and the rest of the group, glowering down at her. "That better have been meant for the Grovyle," he warned, horn glowing as another pair of twisters appeared beside him. His Razor Wind was seeing a lot of action today and he had a feeling it wasn't done yet. His attention on the Leafeon only broke when suddenly the Grovyle lunged for something in the trees and dragged out a whimpering Houndoom. "THAT'S MINE!"

Lalita had made it to Clyde but came to a stop as Garth began tearing into a poor hound. He drank its blood and feasted upon it until he finally realized that he was still in the middle of their group, all eyes watching the horrifying display. "...See? Don't you see? This is what I will do. To all of you." A shiver went down her spine as she realized that he wasn't just threatening, his voice was flat like it was a dead fact. They were all going to die. "No..." she whispered, taking a step back in fear but catching herself. "I'LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!"

"No! I won't let you take any more of my friends you crazy reptile!" Her Flamethrower followed her words as she shot it straight at the demon plaguing her waking world, trying her best to dodge the random Energy Balls. One of them struck Calamity and knocked him away from Circe, dispelling his Razor Wind. Struggling to get back up he barely managed to avoid another as it sailed over his head. This was going to be one hell of a fight.

Her attack flew, but unfortunately, Circe didn't get a chance to see whether or not it had hit-- the shiny absol soon blocked her sight, his ebony pelt even darker in the shadow of the sun. Her eyes widened, surprised she'd already been spotted amongst her hidey-spot in the brush. A wind picked up, forming two little wind devils beside the shiny bastard. "That better have been meant for the Grovyle," he warned, his voice a low growl. She stared, unable to speak. Did she stake her claim now? Did she try to play it off as bad aim? But as she tried to find a way out of the situation, her newfound "ally" found something else; a distraction.

"THAT'S MINE!"

He lunged from his perch, ripping into the poor creature he'd found. Glancing up at the absol, she darted away, slinking quickly into more of the concealing brush. She'd have to play this carefully... especially if she wanted a shot at that little prissy bitch. From her new vantage point, however, she could see vividly how the grovyle ripped the body apart, her eyes fixated with macabre fascination. There was just so much blood... Not having been used to such sights, it was all she could do to watch from afar.

"No! I won't let you take any more of my friends you crazy reptile!" Bitch cried before attacking the grovyle herself. Circe's eyes volleyed between the two, her mind still racing as to which side she should take. One infected against them... she wasn't sure whether he'd make it, even with her help. But waiting until he was dead and with them suspecting her... the first option might be easier to take. Frowning, Circe shot another Razor wind, aiming right for Lalita's pretty little side. Let's see how pretty your pelt is tainted with blood!

Garth was so busy getting into more and more of a frenzy that he barely heard Lalita screaming at him before a Flamethrower suddenly exploded in his direction. His natural hatred to fire forced Garth to cease his attack and leap out of the way, the blood from the Houndoom giving him a fantastic burst of energy. Scrambling out of the way of the blaze, Garth protected his face from the intense heat with his arm. Even being so close to such a powerful attack - and one that he was vulnerable to - would've usually hurt like hell, but Garth barely felt even a twinge. He knew very well that the infection was quickly starting to take control, but until it claimed his mind and his ability to enjoy each and every kill he made, he did not care. Let's have fun while you still can.

Garth jumped to his feet, cackling with laughter at the sight of the black Absol darting around, trying to avoid his attacks. Catching sight of Clyde, the infected Grass-type's grin broadened to insane proportions. He had offered his help but the bastard had completely ignored it. Well, so be it; if he wanted to die a miserable and painful death he was sure that he could help out.

Garth's eyes flashed crimson again and he growled deeply, extending both of his leaves and charging for the fellow infected. "YOU'RE MINE!"

Clyde, entrapped in his own terrible hate, was barely conscious of the Magical Leaf attack. One minute he’d been nearing that slimy bastard; the next, his vision had been overcome by a flurry of sharp, glowing leaves. He roared, infuriated and disorientated as the attack tore mercilessly at his form – the white stained red. He hardly felt it, his fragile mind instead distracted by the attack. Clyde presumed that Garth was responsible, his thoughts irrational and unable to register the fact that it was impossible. He’d never taken his eyes off that monster.

"THAT'S MINE!"

By the time, the leaves had cleared, Clyde’s path freed once more, havoc had descended upon the group. He watched in horror as Garth had turned his attentions to a Houndoom, brutally tearing the canine limb from limb with twisted glee. The Vigoroth gave a violent shudder, knowing that such bloodshed should make him nauseous and yet, it was having the adverse effect. The scent of fresh blood wafted into his flaring nostrils, the aroma intoxicating, enticing, as he stalked forward – momentarily forgetting his initial intentions. The ape’s heart was pounding erratically, excited, as his head began to throb in pure agony. He physically recoiled, glimmer of the real Clyde attempting to fight these new, fearsome urges.

Whilst chaos ensued in gory vivacity, Clyde was fighting an inner battle. He was hunched over, claws shielding his head from the enemy infecting his mind. He gave the occasional snarl, agonized, as the shouting and screams of friends erupted around him. Bloodshot eyes caught glimpse of the battling in his periphery, flames entwining with fierce winds, glowing balls of energy volleying between each party. Clyde could do nothing; left snarling to himself until he was rudely awakened by a flash of bloodstained green.

"YOU'RE MINE!"

Clyde’s red eyes locked with Garth’s, his expression dangerous as the attack collided. Those same dangerous leaves responsible for the Vigoroth’s mark of infection soon sunk into his shoulder. He gave little more than a hiss, the blood gushing from the wound as the pain failed to register at its true intensity.
“Never,” Clyde responded, voice warped with a newfound ferocity. He fiercely shook the creature away, using his body weight to ensure a moment’s freedom from the ferocious reptile. No sooner had he pushed Garth away, Clyde had retaliated – filling the distance as he aimed his Counter.

(( Sorry about the wait, I got a little confused to whose turn it was. ^^; Also, Night, you have my permission to start beating the shit out of Clyde. ))

[[Sorry for holding up the team for a skip, but I can't think of anything for her. Any of you are welcome to start attacking Circe. I'm gonna be killing her off soon.]]

Garth skidded along the ground as he was ferociously pushed away. Keeping his balance on one hand, his raised his other into a thumbs-up gesture. "You're doing good. Keep this up and you won't have me around anymore to help euthanise you." Standing up again, Garth wasted no time in charging again. He was feeling less and less pain with every hit; soon enough he would be completely invincible. More. He was sent hurtling backwards by the Counter attack, colliding roughly with a tree, but he was back on his feet in an instant, his eyes fiercely glowing scarlet as he sped forward again. "MORE!"

Tackling Clyde to the ground, Garth sat on the Vigoroth's chest, his own lungs drawing air in and out at an alarmingly rapid pace. The excitement! He'd waited too long to feel this again; twenty four hours was very painful to endure without killing anything. "You ... are mine." Slowly opening his jaws, Garth prepared the biggest Energy Ball he could manage.

An Energy Ball. Right in the face. Oh the hilarity.

Lalita saw the world closing in around her as the two males went at each other, no regard for safety or even life at this point. Garth was right, she could see it now. The deep red of Fuzzy's eyes, the never healing gashes on his chest, even the way he was fighting now. He was becoming one of them. But he was still Fuzzy, he was still her friend, and while even a shred of that was still within him he was worth fighting for. Not wasting any time she jumped into the fray and wound up taking a giant Energy Ball for Clyde, thrown back a ways by the force of it.

Despite her resistance for the typing that large of an attack hurt like hell and it stunned her for a few moments, leaving her open and exposed. Her recently healed ribs were screaming at her and she wondered briefly if they had been cracked again. "You..." she growled out through clenched fangs. "You'll not have him... Do you hear me Garth?! I'll not let you have him!" Shaking off her pain the Ninetales struggled to her feet and began to call forth another Flamethrower, unleashing the jet of flame right at the Grovyle who seemed intent on ruining her life.

((PM me if you want me to change anything guys! Garth is still on top of Clyde Lalita just took the Energy Ball. XD
Also Sil if you want Circe can attack Calamity, it will give her something to do and show that she turned on the group.))

Clyde could hardly hear Garth’s ruthless taunts, the throbbing in his head distorting his senses as the world around him became a red blur – a flash of green bringing him back to reality. He found himself launched backwards, a weight suddenly crushing on his bleeding chest that held him firm to the ground. The Vigoroth snarled, infuriated, as he began thrashing beneath the Grovyle, a light growing about its reptilian jaws. A shred of rationality reaching the surface, realization of his attacker’s intentions breaking through to his weakening mind, Clyde cowered away in a vain attempt to protect his head.

Yet the pain he was expecting never arrived. He saw Lalita launched backwards, taking the Energy Ball and suffering the terrible pain that accompanied the hit. He winced for her, feeling her pain as memories of the kindly female flooded his mind. She had been there for him when no one else had – they’d seen so much death, endured so much pain in such a short time and yet, the love he had for her was soon reminding him who he truly was. He wasn’t a monster. Garth was just trying to control him, manipulate him.

"You… You'll not have him... Do you hear me Garth?! I'll not let you have him!"

Clyde, still pinned beneath the infected, was helpless to the flames intended for his attacker. He roared as the fire ignited his bloodstained face, the pain triggering an uglier side of his mind as he writhed in agony. Too engrossed in the flames burning away the left half of his face, the Vigoroth found himself locked in the confines of his own tortured mind. He tried to resist. He lusted for the scent, the taste of blood, and the desire to fight and kill whoever got in his way. Part of him wanted to accept his fate, lose his mind in the hope his beloved Bonnie would still invade his undead thoughts – but it was Lalita who kept him fighting. He couldn’t hurt her again.

(( 3 more posts to go so Clyde needs to start dying about now. Night, you have my permission to inflict as much bodily damage as you can to poor ol’ Clyde - go crazy and cut off a limb if you want, lol. ))

All the comraderie was making her gag.

Her other attack had missed, the shiny bitch having jumped out of the way without even noticing. Circe gritted her teeth in frustration, simply wanting the stupid purple ninetales to just drop dead. With a psychotic grovyle running rampant, that was supposed to be an easy enough job, no? Apparently not. Still, Crazy Face had her occupied enough, hitting her with an Energy Ball so hard, she was having trouble breathing. While she wanted the kill for her own, she could let the crazed lizard take her; she could happily watch from the sidelines. After all, they had very similar goals.

But her shiny beaux also was nearby, and no one was attacking him. Thinking that she could turn the tables by getting rid of Mr. Emo, and therefore allowing more probability to Garth slaughtering Precious over there, she decided that the absol would indeed be her best bet. Let him be distracted by his beautiful little princess in distress-- it'd give Circe more back to stab. Repositioning herself, she sent out another wave of Razor Leaves, hoping to slice him up like a damn turkey.

Calamity, in his distraction, had forgotten to resummon his whirlwinds to execute his Razor Wind and without warning found himself with a face full of Razor Leaves. The sharp blades of grass cut into his face and caused him to duck down in pain, wiping at the blood with one of his paws in an attempt to regain his vision. Pissed he glared through the blood running into his already crimson eyes and went after Circe with a Pursuit, hoping to knock the bitch senseless.

"I'm going to make you pay bitch! Just you wait!"

((Short post is short. I wanted to wait for Night to start getting into Clyde for Lalita to do anything. Right now she is just in pain.))

(( Skipping Clyde. I need Nightfall. ^^; ))

The ... the bitch! The stupid, foolish, suicidal, annoying little bitch!

His Energy Ball attack was intercepted by Lalita, and although he would've usually enjoyed watching her go flying through the air like a corpse in an explosion, Garth was too furious to laugh. He opened his bloody jaws and roared his frustration at the sky until the bitch's angry voice forced him to shut his mouth and listen. "You...You'll not have him... Do you hear me Garth?! I'll not let you have him!" Forced once again to dodge that blasted Flamethrower, Garth barely managed to leap off Clyde and take cover behind a tree trunk. When he saw the resulting damage to the Vigoroth's face - His face his face oh sweet wonderful Arceus his face! - he doubled over into howls of laughter.

"Whoops! That wasn't a good idea, was it? Just look what you've done! I have less of 'Fuzzy's' face to rip off now! Hmph!" Exaggerating a mock pout he folded his arms and trembled his bottom lip, but as the female's words sunk deeper into his mind his expression took on a much more menacing look. "And since when did you tell me what to do, bitch? You ... you fucking, stinking bitch!" Unfolding his arms and glaring at Lalita, the Grovyle's body began to shake violently, his eyes once again taking on a crimson hue. "Didn't you hear me? Are you fucking deaf or just stupid?"

Blood.

He needed it, and god-fucking-damn it he needed it now! A deep, guttural roar exploded from Garth's mouth as he charged at the still-fallen Vigoroth. "I SAID HE IS MINE! MINE MINE MINE! Grabbing Clyde by the throat and yanking him upright with one hand, he glared into the eyes of the fellow infected for a moment as a high-pitched, squealing laugh of insane delight ripped from his throat. "MINE!" Garth screeched, extending the leaves on his free arm and lashing forward, slicing off Clyde's right arm in a single swipe. "More..." Tossing the Normal-type to the ground, Garth jumped back on top of him and proceeded to hack, slash and tear every inch of him he could reach. The scent of blood coming from where Clyde's arm had once been was overwhelming, and only spurred Garth on further. Again and again he carved at his victim's chest, thoroughly enjoying the dull, sickening thuds that resounded upon each hit.

"MORE! MOOOORE!"

---

Buck was lost, but it was no surprise to him. As a kid and teenager he had never strayed too far from his home at Mt.Silver, so he didn't really know how the rest of the Johto region spanned itself out. Even though he and his thieving friends had occasionally left the mountain to target Trainers and their valuables, they'd never come this far west. "Damn it..." Admitting defeat - at least, for the time being - Buck climbed the next tree he walked past and sat down on the branch for a quick rest.

The only part of his journey from Unova that was worth mentioning had been his evolution. The undead Lilipup he had found was a weakling and, with the aid of his precious Razor Claw that had taken him nearly a year to find, managed to defeat it and evolve for the first time. It had been such a wonderful feeling, and when he emerged from the bright light as a Weavile he had immediately ran to the nearest stream - taking note of his longer, quicker legs in the meantime - and examining his new appearance. Almost a foot taller; an extra claw and a fancy frill on his head - he liked it. Not only was he stronger and had a better chance of surviving, but he had fulfilled his promise to his dear friend Norma Jean. It was worth every second.

Buck sat against the trunk of the tree to observe the slowly setting sun when loud, angry voices from nearby reached his ears. "What the--" He stood up on the branch and leaned out over the canopy, sticking his claws into the bark so that he didn't fall. They were voices all right, and damn did they sound pissed off. "Aha! A fight!" Quite a fan of watching fights that he wasn't involved in, Buck followed the sounds as he leaped from one tree to the next until he stopped on a branch overlooking a pathway. Oh my sweet gentle Arceus...

This was not just a fight; it was an all out massacre. The Grovyle was going completely mental, screaming and shouting and laughing like a madman. The poor Vigoroth he was battling was pinned to the floor as the crazy Grass-type hacked away at his chest, and Buck noticed, with a retch, the twitching arm of the Normal-type lying just a few feet away. Jeeeeeez... Slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, Buck clung to the tree's bark with morbid fascination. He wanted to help, of course he did, but to go down there and face that - that freak of nature? You've got to be kidding me! Ever the off-side observer, Buck stayed right where he was, hoping and praying to the legends above that none of them would notice him and turn the psycho's attention onto him. I've come too far just to die! Still ... maybe I COULD help ... No, best to see how it pans out. Don't want to cause MORE of a commotion...

((Skip please, need Sil or Snitch to keep going and since you guys are out of SH now...
DO SOMETHING! XD))

"I SAID HE IS MINE! MINE MINE MINE!”

Clyde, engrossed with the merciless flames, had only heard that piercing, monstrous cry before hell befell him. He was tossed about like a ragdoll, hoisted into the air, breathing become difficult as he caught Garth’s crimson eyes. The same red as his own, yet that, he could never admit. He wasn’t like Garth. He would never be like Garth. Even as the virus coursed through his veins, infecting his mind and body – Clyde continued to fight. He would not become like Garth. Never.

"MINE!"

Clyde couldn’t silence the animalistic, agonized scream that accompanied the removal of his arm. It was a pain unreal to his senses, his mind going blank – failing to register the side of the bloodied limb lying on the ground. He slammed his eye shut, gasping for air and madly clutching at his shoulder, transformed into a gory waterfall. It would do no good. The agony was crippling in its intensity, the Vigoroth barely conscious as his body went crashing to the ground. Even as Garth tore mercilessly into his chest, the ape was lost in a blur of unparalleled pain.

Only half-aware of his current predicament, the blood gushing from him in endless waves, Clyde could only fling up his remaining arm in a vain bid to remove the source of such pain. He felt a weight on his form, flashes of green in his blurry vision and thus, he swung mindlessly at the threat – hoping to knock it away. Suddenly, breathing became difficult. Garth had severed an artery, his mutilated chest now thick with blood as one single, well-aimed sliced to his throat was rapidly sealing his fate. He twitched against the ground, unable to comprehend what was happening. In desperation, he called out to the one person who could save him.

“… Lalita…”

Her leaves had done far less damage than she'd hoped or expected, and the fact that the black absol so easily stood made her cringe backward. "I'm going to make you pay bitch! Just you wait!" he snarled, rushing into the brush after her. She squealed in fright, immediately running from the terrible beast with her tail poorly tucked between her legs. She sent out another wave of leaves back at him, but tripped on a rock, sending her spiraling down into a small decline. She stopped down in the deepest depression of the very small hill, frantically trying to get back up and run.

"Stay away from me, you freak!" she cried, desperately trying to keep away from Calamity.

[[Shitty post is incredibly shitty. Phoe, you have permission to do whatever. Including killing her.]]

More.

Clyde's screams of agony, the blood gushing from his severed arm; spurting from his destroyed chest, the sight of the light slowly starting to flicker from his eyes ... Garth was relishing every moment of this. His entire body vibrated with the adrenaline, the excitement, that now coursed through him. Shrieking with laughter, the Grovyle took one more mighty slash at his victim before realising that he couldn't possibly do much more damage to Clyde's chest and took a moment to figure out what he could do next. In his frenzy he had severed an artery in the Vigoroth's neck; bright red blood spurted from it, staining the Grass-type's arms and chest. It was hot, nutritious and damn did it smell good. Too good. He was hungry. He needed it, and he needed it now.

"Mine." Garth's voice had transformed in a eerily soft, low growl as he bent his head close to the gash, slowly and gently running his tongue along the severed flesh; the exposed nerves; the twitching muscles. The blood made him feel like he had only just been born; it's warm, soft texture slipping effortlessly down his throat like milk. Before he knew it Garth was practically chomping greedily on whatever his narrow snout could reach, holding the Vigoroth's head firmly down on the ground with both hands as he did so. He quickly raised his head to swallow a particularly large lump of flesh and wished that he hadn't; the world suddenly began to spin and Garth fell to the ground, panting.

"Wh-What?" The Grovyle practically sunk his claws into the earth under the illusion that he was about to get thrown into the trees under the force. His head pounded and his stomach gurgled. He felt the flesh and the blood that he had just swallowed shooting back up into his throat and he vomited violently, hurling up the remains of Clyde's neck; red blood whirled into an unpleasant-smelling green bile. Gasping for air, red drool dangling from his mouth, Garth felt himself beginning to panic. Oh no ... not now ... not yet! "NO!" Even though the trees around him still seemed to be on a rotating pedestal and his headache was growing more and more intense with every second, Garth managed to stagger to his feet and haul himself over to one of the trees just off the main path, leaning against it for support. He was getting out of control; the blood and the flesh had only intensified that feeling. It was almost as if he hadn't even been thinking about it; that he had been feasting on Clyde's flesh out of pure instinct rather than choice.

"You..." Garth managed to turn himself round for a moment and pointed a trembling finger at Lalita. "I'll be back for you ... bitch!" And without another word Garth had darted off into the greenery, smacking into several trees along the way.

---

This guy was bonkers!

Buck watched from his tree, almost beginning to feel the need to throw up. He could hear the Grovyle chomping on the Vigoroth's flesh and sucking on his blood from way up in his perch. Clearly the guy was an infected by the way he was happily feasting on his victim, but this didn't stop the feeling of disgust rising up in the Weavile's chest. He'd witnessed his fair share of gruesome kills in his time, but this one was about to take the cake. Not only was he battling with the urge to keep his stomach contents down, but he constantly kept changing his mind about whether to intervene or not. He had the choice of either staying safe in his tree but remaining a coward, or being brave and going to confront the maniac but risk getting killed in the process. He did truly feel sorry for the poor guy bleeding to death on the ground, and for the nearby Ninetails who was clearly his friend by the way she was acting, but he wasn't a fool. No, they were the fools for not high-tailing it out of there while they had the chance! The Vigoroth was obviously going to die, it didn't take a doctor to figure that out, but what would the psycho do once he'd had his fill of him? Find another target, of course. They'd already lost, already established that they were one member down, so what reason did they have to stick around? Get out of there and save yourself, he silently urged the Ninetails.

But then something weird happened. The Grovyle suddenly stumbled backwards and violently vomited what he had just ingested. The guy looked like a drunkard as he got too his feet and staggered off, managing to threaten the female before disappearing into the forest.

Buck's claws were embedded so deeply into the bark that he had trouble pulling them out. Slowly, silently, he lowered himself into a sitting position as he began to watch the heartbreaking scene. What use would he be if he went down there? It wasn't like he could save the guy or offer any words of comfort. He was a complete stranger. No. Instead, Buck did what he did best and watched, hidden, from a distance, waiting to see how this scene would pan out.

Calamity snarled as Circe shot more leaves, lowering his head and letting his horn deflect most of them. He charged her but she managed to avoid his jaws by stumbling and going head first down a hill. When she landed at the bottom she was trapped. He raced down using his Pursuit, crashing into her at the bottom and pleased when he heard a few of those fragile ribs crack. "Now I got you, you pathetic wretch!" He was going to defend that lavender fox against this harlot who tried to take her out while her back was turned. She was the only creature in the world who didn't reject him on sight and deserved whatever he could afford to give her.

Summoning all the strength of his Bite he clamped down on junction of the small neck of the Leafeon and her shoulder, crunching down as hard as he could and shaking until the need for air forced him to release. But after a brief second to catch his breath he went at her again, only this time he went directly for the throat. There was no way he was letting her live after what she did.
____________________

Face stricken in horror the shiny Ninetales watched as Garth effectively dug his arm blade into Clyde's throat, blood soon pouring out of the open wound. Screaming in pain and anger she tried to rush for him only to have Calamity and Circe roll down a hill beside her. There was so much blood...she wasn't sure who wasn't injured anymore. But her pause gave Garth enough time to begin to rip into Clyde's neck and by the time Lalita got to him Garth fell back and began to choke. Stopping next to her friend she took a protective stance over him, tails fanned and flame licking at her mouth, waiting for Garth to try again.

“… Lalita…”

He sounded so weak, so terribly weak. Her fire quenched itself as she looked down at the Vigaroth, whimpering and nudged his face with her nose as she fought back her tears. "Fuzzy..." Not him...not him too. She couldn't lose another friend. He was the only one left! If he died it was just her...she couldn't even see Calamity and Circe anymore. If he died she was alone...with Garth. She glanced up as said reptile was currently done retching onto the ground and now glaring at her. His eyes were full of contempt and Lalita once again took a defensive stance in front of her friend.

"You..." A bloodied finger was suddenly directed at her and the fox couldn't help but flinch, expecting an attack. "I'll be back for you ... bitch!" And with that he was just...gone. Confusion clearly spread over the female's face before a trail of blood surrounded her back paw making her realize that she was standing in the very life of Clyde pouring onto the ground. She gave one last glance to make sure Garth was really gone before turning back to her prone friend and finally began to cry.

"Fuzzy...please...don't leave me..."

((Obviously permission to assault Circe given by Sil in her previous post, lol.))

Clyde was in a bad way.

His vision was blurring, an incessant ringing overwhelming the voices around him as the world had begun to spin. The pain was threatening to consume his mind altogether, his breathing ragged as the blood endlessly gushed and yet, he clung to life. He had no reason to. He couldn’t survive this and even if he did, he would become akin to the monster that had caused it all. Perhaps Garth had done him a favour in his attack, the bloodlust leaving the ape’s system as rapidly as his own liquid life. He could would treasure these final moments of normality. Clyde didn’t want to die a monster.

"Fuzzy...please...don't leave me..."

He couldn’t figure out when it had happened, but the green outline marking his murderous attacker was gone. In its place, an ethereal, lavender figure was staring down at him. She looked an angel through his teary eyes. Yet Clyde didn’t need telling to know who it was. Lalita… A weak smile touched his bloodied features, his tired eyes momentarily alighting to see his friend was alive. Reaching out with his remaining paw, the Vigoroth lightly touched the female’s foreleg, wanting some sort of confirmation that she truly was okay – that he hadn’t totally failed. He’d promised he’d protect her. It had cost him his own life, but at least his oath was unbroken.
“… I’m sorry,” He choked out, voice far softer than he’d anticipated. “I… can’t stay,” Clyde managed a tired smile, desperate to reassure the female that everything would be okay. He lacked the energy, the words, to tell her she could survive without him, that she truly was strong and even Garth couldn’t crush her spirit. That she would survive this. It was only a shame he couldn’t be around to witness it.

Allowing his paw to drop the ground, unable to hold it up any longer, Clyde winced as a new spurt of pain pierced through the existing veil of agony. He whined, holding back tears as he took deep breaths to steady himself.
”It hurts…” The Vigoroth’s voice was heart-wrenching, a lost child begging for a haven as he attempted to find the female’s eyes. Why was it so difficult now? “Let me rest… Please,” He’d found them, red orbs dotted with the old blue as his emotions poured from that single look of pleading. Lalita would understand. Clyde was ready now.

“Please,”

(( Phoe, Lalita can go ahead and kill him now. My last post will be the moments just before he dies. ))

Her stumble had cost her more than she'd anticipated. The asshole knew Pursuit, and upon using it, his attack smashed severely into her ribs, a few of them snapping on impact. Circe let out a sharp cry of pain, unused to such brutality in battle. Her power had only been bestowed by copious amounts of Rare Candies, an easy cheat in the fashion world. But now, her cut on the corners was costing her... dearly. With her shattered ribs, she could barely begin to stand up, only able to look back in time to see the ebony beast standing over her. "Now I got you, you pathetic wretch!"

The fangs came down hard, sinking into her pliable flesh. Another blood-curdling scream erupted from her, the pain too intense to think of anything else. Her dainty bones crunched beneath her assailant's jaws, snapping and giving way to his power. She didn't notice when his fangs left her, as the throbbing, terrible pain still wracked her pathetic body even in their absence. Tears blurring her vision, she could only see his sienna face against the obsidian cloak of his pelt. He came down close to her once more, fangs flashing in the afternoon sun, and out of pure instinct, she screamed again and loosed her last attack; a Razor Leaf, slicing anything that crossed them. They were not as sharp as they needed to go through a neck, but one embedded itself deep into Calamity's throat, the point-blank range enough to penetrate past the thick coat.