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Frogs.
It is fucking raining fucking frogs.
Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden did not go to Wizard College* so some asshole could make it start raining frogs in his town. He takes a team to check it out. (His team consists of Mouse, who is now large enough not to need to sit in his pocket, and Buttercup. They are a good team.)
(*Ebenezar McCoy's second-largest barn)
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fortheliving
needle-in-echo-groove
The becloaked figure mutters something to him.
first-and-final
"Um. No, thank you," says the extremely and/or amazingly cute guy. A small grey cat climbs up to perch on his shoulder and meows inscrutable commentary. He gives her absent-minded scritches.
no-return
Buttercup shrugs philosophically. "Well, I tried. Bye!" And back to Harry he goes.
fortheliving
Harry's trajectory is taking him pretty close to the creepy lady. Mouse seems to dislike this idea. He's barking furiously in her general direction.
"Come on, Mouse! Behave!"
"Come on, Mouse! Behave!"
fortheliving
Harry rolls his eyes. "I'm sorry, ma'am, he's not usually... like..."
He sees the hastily-applied age makeup on the woman's face.
He also sees her going for a shotgun in her cart.
He lets loose a bolt of concussive force straight into her chest, slamming her into a tree, just as a black van screeches around the corner carrying a number of men with guns.
He sees the hastily-applied age makeup on the woman's face.
He also sees her going for a shotgun in her cart.
He lets loose a bolt of concussive force straight into her chest, slamming her into a tree, just as a black van screeches around the corner carrying a number of men with guns.
no-return
Well, the guys with guns are too far away for Buttercup to do much about. So he goes for the bag lady instead.
"Over there!" he says to Harry, pointing briefly at the van as he bolts toward the tree.
If this ruins his mandatory fluffy sweater, he is going to be so mad.
"Over there!" he says to Harry, pointing briefly at the van as he bolts toward the tree.
If this ruins his mandatory fluffy sweater, he is going to be so mad.
needle-in-echo-groove
The cowled figure snarls loudly, blurring into action. He bounds towards the gunmen, taking a few moderately irritating bullets to the torso, and starts savaging one of them.
fortheliving
Harry, in turn, starts blasting away. (At the other gunmen. The cowled figure will need dealing with, but he doesn't need to do it while he's, uh, helping.)
The bag lady is currently in the process of shredding her flesh suit and turning into something straight out of a very unpleasant anime. She ruins Buttercup's sweater more or less immediately with her claws.
The bag lady is currently in the process of shredding her flesh suit and turning into something straight out of a very unpleasant anime. She ruins Buttercup's sweater more or less immediately with her claws.
no-return
Which incidentally ruins a moderate fraction of Buttercup, but it's the sweater part that makes him snarl and go for her throat.
first-and-final
The extremely cute guy is left crouched beside a park bench, watching the action with worry and confusion and no way of helping.
fortheliving
Harry would probably reassure him if he had any real way of doing so! As it is, mostly what he can do is maintain his shield and take potshots at the hitmen while that probably-vampire murderizes the rest. (He'd like to be able to do something about that ghoul, but Buttercup's in melee, and that means most of what could actually harm her would incidentally splatter him as well.)
The ghoul is strong, but she doesn't really seem to have much up-close combat ability against someone with comparable strength and a lot more rage than herself. She's on the defensive. Also, she's in the process of regenerating some ribs and, now, a throat, so she could really be doing better.
The ghoul is strong, but she doesn't really seem to have much up-close combat ability against someone with comparable strength and a lot more rage than herself. She's on the defensive. Also, she's in the process of regenerating some ribs and, now, a throat, so she could really be doing better.
no-return
Buttercup has absolutely no problem tearing her to pieces with his bare hands if that's what it takes to prevent her from hurting his friend.
He doesn't quite notice that he's gone a little silver around the edges, nor the inhuman speed and strength with which he's attacking the ghoul. He's never gone all-out on somebody like this before.
He doesn't quite notice that he's gone a little silver around the edges, nor the inhuman speed and strength with which he's attacking the ghoul. He's never gone all-out on somebody like this before.
fortheliving
She's sure as hell noticing! (This was not in the fucking contract. That little bastard is going to pay.)
She's afraid. It's not showing on her monstrous face, but it radiates from her like body heat. It feels... oddly satisfying. Kind of like sex, in a creepy sort of way. Or like food.
(The gunmen have elected to cut their losses and run like hell. One of them manages to toss Leo off the back of the van and drive away.)
She's afraid. It's not showing on her monstrous face, but it radiates from her like body heat. It feels... oddly satisfying. Kind of like sex, in a creepy sort of way. Or like food.
(The gunmen have elected to cut their losses and run like hell. One of them manages to toss Leo off the back of the van and drive away.)
no-return
Oh, nice. Now Buttercup is grinning, bright and wild. He didn't know it was going to be so much fun.
needle-in-echo-groove
The front of Leo's robe is torn up and covered with blood; he's lying facedown in the dirt to minimize the possibility of sun-to-skin contact.
"I fucking hate guns, have I mentioned? I wish we'd just stuck with swords. Goddamned inexorable march of technology."
"I fucking hate guns, have I mentioned? I wish we'd just stuck with swords. Goddamned inexorable march of technology."
fortheliving
Harry runs over to the odd couple. He shouts back towards Buttercup, "Try not to kill her! Questioning the assassin is a useful thing to do!"
no-return
"Fiiiiiiine," Buttercup shouts back aggrievedly. He pins the ghoul against the ground and grins in her face and drinks her fear.
fortheliving
The ghoul twitches weakly. She doesn't seem to enjoy the fear-drinking very much!
"Well. Thanks for the help, there. I have to say, though, you've got some very weird priorities. For one thing, I'm pretty sure you're a vampire, which means you should want me dead for about ten different reasons. So. Care to enlighten me?"
"Well. Thanks for the help, there. I have to say, though, you've got some very weird priorities. For one thing, I'm pretty sure you're a vampire, which means you should want me dead for about ten different reasons. So. Care to enlighten me?"
needle-in-echo-groove
"I'm a conscientious objector to the White Council war?"
fortheliving
Harry pinches the bridge of his nose. "Nobody likes a smartass, kid."