Vast fields of untended scrub land stretch out for acres on this side of the pastures, the boarding fields almost overwhelmed by choking vegetation and unchecked tree growth. The sun is on it's downward arc and it is thankfully getting a little cooler but then with the disappearance of the sun comes the insects, and the early risers can already be heard buzzing about in the area. While unkempt, there is very much a natural feel to things and those feeling adventurous have been known to use the area for camping or for nature trails, the unchecked growth in the forest means that some of the larger wild life has been left alone and un-hunted, this is a huge draw for those who look out for the bigger game.
There's only so much island to go in Oahu for someone who keeps wandering blindly through the lands. Like Carver, see? His aimless hiking that he indulges himself in as a method of soul searching guides himself to this particular side of the island eventually-- even if he did kind of end up taking a less-beaten path for it, too. Stepping through the woods, pushing at wayward branches that attempt to beat at him when he steps through.
Let's be honest, he's lost.
Volya bounded from foot to foot as the woman danced from clear spot to clear spot of brush, pausing it stare at her cowgirl boots. "I feel you lied to me..." The green bunched neck coverup she was wearing had long lost its vibrant colors from too many washed, the material had grown threadbare along the seams. Over her shoulder was a bag that looked liked an oversized Rastafarian hacky sack. Her sun bleached hair was a wind-woven tangents as she held them back to scream, "THIS IS NOT A SHORTCUT!" Sighing away the building rage, she started humming a song as she continue to step, hop and skip her way to her destination.
Lola is darting through the fields in a zig zag pattern. The young woman darting from one cover position to the next. Balancing speed and stealth as she goes. Her hoodie covers most of her unnaturally red and black hair, her low, almost feral posture lending her a lower, harder to pinpoint profile. She breathes a little heavier than the norm and sweat lightly mists her face. She's been at it for a little while before she came to be here.
Wren lives a farmer's life, he takes care of his cattle, his horses, his goats, and of course he takes care of the land that he needs to keep all of those animals safe, fed, and happy. When it comes down to it, ones land only remains as clean as the borders around it. With that in mind, Wren had come out to do some scrub brush clearing along the treeline separating Atworth Acres and the plot of land next door. He'd started on his own property, surely, but had been working since the early hours of the morning and at some point he'd ended up climbing the fence to handle a terrible bush that kept growing through and onto his property.
Wren had dressed in a set of well worn blue jeans, his dark brown with lighter brown stitching cowboy boots, and a snug-fitting Tshirt that was currently marked with the obvious sweat from his hearty work. On his hands? A set of heavy duty gloves that make it less likely for him to cut the crap out of his hands as he tugs the offending branches back through the fence and onto his neighbor's property. There is a clear line of what's been done, as the fence is gloriously clean for over 30 yards, and then there's the point at which Wren is standing, and everything after him has random arms of scrub shoving itself through it. He'd literally not been paying attention to anything else until he heard Volya's call of something not being a Shortcut, and he turned his head toward her, grinning as he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. "Shortcut to frustration or a seriously hard day's work, maybe. Aloha aiunala, Vee!"
Isaac has been out hunting and none too successfully given his appearance, he has a few nasty welts and scratches on his face, the result of a few rather angry bushes and perhaps a fall or two. He's dressed in hunter's camouflage gear, his top and pants decorated with various leaf patterns designed to help him blend in. The cammo is useful but then Isaac makes a terrible amount of noise as he moves through the scrub, the young man seeming to find every dead branch and twig to stand on, even as he is moving slowly. He has a rifle slung over one shoulder, the weapon proving to be something of a hindrance today as it tries to get snagged on ever low hanging branch. All in all, Isaac has had quite enough of this hunting malarkey and is ready to go home.
Spotting a few familiar faces, Isaac picks up the pace, going less for stalking and more for hiking. "Aloha!" He grins and waves, chuckling as he spots Vee. "I was just hiking through the woods and that, how are you guys doing?" Carver is offered a friendly nod as Isaac makes his way over to Wren, his eyes scanning the ground ahead as his machismo couldn't take another dent right now and falling flat on his face would hurt.
The incessant buzzing of insects starts to die down, nearby a few trees are suddenly shaken as the birds who were starting to roost there decide to move to another location. Clouds start to move overhead, forming definite shapes before dispersing again as the currents move them on again.
Fucking trees. Fucking insects. At least in the middle east most of it was flies instead of these various bloodsucking things.
The sound of Volya's yelling is the first thing that draws him to do something other than just hike through, however-- dropping down suddenly onto one knee with a hand setting onto a tree for support, his single eye hidden behind his sunglasses twitching this way and that to take in his surroundings -- and the various collection of people actually moving in here.
For being lost, he sure manages to always get lost badly straight into people. Fancy how that works.
It's Wren he primarily reacts to, though-- with a quiet grunt rumbling within his chest, and a head tipping slowly downwards, for just a second or so. Still too apprehensive, still too wary for niceties, apparently.
Volya paused and stretched her hand up to wave at Wren, "Aloha, Wren!" The woman grinned as she took several hops and skips in quick succession to get closer to the fence line. "I was attempting to thread the needle, but..." Peering at the scrub bush growing over the property line, Volya frowned as it was dragged over. "And straight into the brass button..." The woman shook her head, lifting the bag strap over her head to walk over to be out of the way. "These things have to be sorted out, I doubt your critters like these at all." Volya started gently digging through the soil to loosen the roots of the scrubs. It was probably the long way to do it, but it was helping... Sort of. She offered a dirty-handed wave to Isaac, "Aloha, Isaac! Shortcuts may be conscription!" The woman giggled and then back to digging up the scrub.
Lola spies the lot of individuals gathered nearby and pauses in her darting, hunching down by the trunk of a tree thick enough to block the majority of her outline. Her nostrils flare as she tries the smell the air. And more usefully, scans the surroundings. The hunter must remain aware of all that happens around her. As much as her imperfect senses allow.
Wren grinned and watched as Carver smacked a mosquito. "You must have found the only mosquito out here today, kane. We don't get them here in Central all that often, you usually find those out in the marsh behind Kailua Bay." He shook his head and chuckled, giving poor Carver a raised set of brows. "Today might not be your day to play poker!" Wren then turned his attention to Volya, beaming brightly at her. "Volya, I can't even tell you how lovely it is to see you today. This stuff has been a proper villain to me all morning." And yeah, he was sweaty as all hell from the battle, but he kept going, continuing to pull scrub through the fence line.
The impending form of Isaac got a flash of a smile from Wren. "Aloha Isaac! You should come boar hunting with me later. It's a horrible time of day for it, now, though. They don't like the mid-day heat or sun. If you want to get a good chance of finding them, it starts about dusk, then you hunt them into the night when they're most active." He grinned and nodded to the scrub brush he was removing from the invasion of his property line. "Plenty of work til then, if you want to help out, though." He looked at Carver. "You too, Carver. I'd offered you work at the Farm before, but I'll pay you for the day, cash, if you want to help out now. The same goes for all of you, unless you'd rather I pay you in something else."
"I asked for directions and all I got was 'down!', it wasn't very helpful when you get down to it." Isaac seems to be making better progress now, he certainly sounds less like a stampede through a twig factory at least. Coming to a stop next to Wren and Vee, he unclips a canteen from his belt and unscrews the top, taking a swig from blessedly cool water before offering it to the others. "I heard about this place from some guys who frequent my shop, figured I'd go and have a look, see if there were any boars about. I'm starting to think I'd have missed an elephant if there'd been one though, still I suppose it was good exercise." Turning to Wren he nods, "Ah, you see they neglected to mention that at the shop. Smart-asses the lot of them. Could be fun though, I might take you up on that when I'm not quite so knackered."
The clouds are starting to close in overhead, making it feel a lot later than it really is. With the sun behind cover, the temperature starts to cool, a little quick to those aware of such things but it is still a relief after the heat of the day. Off in the forest, the bird migration is in full swing, the sky above the trees full over various types of bird as they circle and swoop.
"Eh?" Carver sounds out in a grunt as a response to Wren's sudden offer-- or the reminder of such, rather. It's almost imperceptible past the sunglasses, but his eye blinks rapidly in confusion. Was he too adrenaline-filled when that was said and done? It's possible. He doesn't make any effort to question it now, though-- really not the time and place for pointless backtalk like that, after all. So instead, he snaps his eye off to the side for a moment, and mutters, "I don't have need for money," with a click of his tongue against his tongue. Well isn't he just being the friendliest of neighbors today.
...Or any other day for that matter, come to think of it.
Volya offered a dirt-covered wave to Carver and a cheerful 'Aloha!' to the man, smiling all the while as she carefully dug out her first scrub brush, getting the roots to release. She raised an eyebrow at Isaac and grinned, "Pol. Russian does a much better job for clarifying communication. Pol, it means ground, ground, floor, flooring, and sex. I never said it would be helpful directions, just that it was a start." Shaking the plant out, she walked it farther back into the neighbor's property to replant it which was of questionable use to the task at hand.
Lola turns her head, staring the direction Isaac came from. Those eyes narrow and she suddenly grows far more tense. Ready. A low, throaty sound rolls in the back of her throat before she steals off to the side, starting to circle the people out in the open. She hears something. And she is looking to move herself out of it's potential direct path, flanking the populated area to give herself a better vantage.
Wren chuckled and shook his head at Isaac. "What can I say, kane, the world is filled with people unwilling to be helpful in the slightest, no matter what the end goal." He winked at Isaac, then looked over at Volya. "And then there's people like Volya, who will help you all day and you're never quite sure if you got anything done more than getting tangled up in that shiny web of her energy." Amusement had lit Wren's bright blue eyes when he looked over at Carver and raised his brows. "Right, there was no suggestion that you were poor there, Carver, I just remember you saying something about looking for work. So I figured I'd make the offer known. I'll be sure not to bother offering again in the future, though, it's not my intention to offend." He stopped speaking and then looked over to the woods where Isaac had exited them. "Did you come across something other than a boar, Isaac?" Wiping his hands down his jeans, Wren moved over to the fence where his rifle was leaning. Picking it up, he carried like a man who knew full well which end did the dangerous business. He walked with purpose towards the source of whatever was troubling him. "Does anyone else hear that?"
"Yes, when they're not giving crap directions, it's either 'argh I'm going to die or SEX!' Isaac puts the top back on his canteen and then puts it back on his belt, feeling much more refreshed now he has had a drink of water. "Still, it's a start, I can't be expecting great things straight off the bat." He watches as Wren moves away from the fence, raising an eyebrow as he asks his question. "I don't think so? I really wasn't having the best day's hunting but I'm positive there wasn't any big game out there. Not unless it was hiding up in a tree and laughing at me, I'm quite sure I did hear laughter at one point." As Wren picks up his rifle, Isaac decides to join him. "I didn't hear anything?"
Off ahead in the tree-line, there is a mechanical noise, from what sounds like someone trying to start an engine. Perhaps a lawn-mower, there's a definite pull, pause, tick tick sound going on over there. Any remaining wildlife that was sticking around has chosen now as a good time to leave, the birds that were flying over head flying en masse towards the south. A steady rustling builds up from the woods, cracking of branches and what sounds generally like people not trying to hide their presence.
"Eh?" grunts out in bemusement. The matter of whether or not Wren is offending him with the offer of work or anything else is apparently completely forgotten on his part, in favor of just watching the lot there pick up rifles and set moving. "The hell are you people talking about?" He mutters promptly, now finally lifting himself up from his low crouch besides a tree, dark brows furrowing downwards along the frames of his glasses. He turns to follow, slowly-- though rather deliberately with a decent distance left between himself and the others. And then there's that noise. For just a moment, he pauses, and his head snaps up, eyes ticking over try to localize the source of it. "...I heard *that*."
Volya continued replanting the scrub brush, offering the plant of calming and cheerful vocalization as she smiled widely. Gesturing to the plant, "It's away from the fence line which I thought was the plan. And the only shiny web that is spun around here would be honeyed compliments." Volya winced at Wren before smiling at Isaac, "I never said communication would be easy. And it's better someone hears their cries than all to be deaf to th--" Volya cut off her speaking as Wren and Isaac went for their rifles, "Uhh... Bit harsh respon--" The woman was cut off again as she visibly shiver as the lawn-mower or whatever doom dealing device was started, and rubbed her arms, smearing dirt on them as she stood. She offered a faint smile to Wren, "I had recommended meditation and finding oneness with nature. He's just sorting it out." She grinned and skipped along to keep up with Wren and Isaac, but back as the men had a clear shot.
Lola pauses when she's positioned herself. An advantage like this you don't give up. Especially when the vanguard is in motion. She will wait a few moments, then keep pace with Wren and Isaac, though remaining within her hidden spot. Waiting to see what they find. And if she can ambush it. A wide, feral grin rests on her lips as she scans the path ahead as she carefully keeps pace.
Wren grinned widely at Volya, glancing back at her over his shoulder. "Oh I remember something about that conversation. And I'm glad he's taken it to heart. I think Isaac needed a little Him time in the woods." Chuckling, Wren looked over to Isaac with raised brows. "He's got that proper walloped native look to him now." Carver got a glance, and Wren just shrugged. "I don't know what it was, but it was movement in the woods. And now... it sounds like someone's going to be cutting down a tree or something." He frowned and looked at the treeline, checking the tops of them to see if any were vibrating or starting to fall over. "I don't /think/ that's a tree falling down... but it's coming this way, we should stay out of the tree line just in case." He stopped moving forward when there was a good 30 yards between himself and the trees. Wren didn't aim his gun at the trunks or anything, kept it pointed to the ground easily in his hands, but he looked decidedly wary standing there with his legs shoulder width apart.
Looking over his shoulder, Isaac grins to Volya. "I was totally one with nature Vee, I took some of those candies and crashed out in the gardens over the weekend, it was quite the adventure...but mainly I slept." Quite unaware as to what Wren has heard, Isaac nevertheless tries to keep pace, swinging his rifle round from his shoulder so that he is carrying it and can bring it to bear if needs be. "I'm quite sure the 'walloped' look will be going out of fashion, I just need to learn to duck more often." Isaac looks to the treeline, squinting his eyes as he tries to make out whatever is in there. "Yeah, I'm not in a terrible hurry to be going back in there."
From within the tree-line of the woods, whoever is trying to get their engine started finally has some success. Three more pulls was all it took and then the engine revs into action, very much sounding like a chainsaw with the noise and echo and just with the way it is being revved. It's being revved right now...and someone seems to be screaming...oh wait, they've stopped...and now they chainsaw sounds jammed, nope! They got it running again, that's lucky as it was a bugger to start.
Carver moves up closer to Wren this time around when he stops, scrambling over smoothly to a crouch just besides and behind him-- putting him directly opposite from where the other man has braced his rifle, effectively. Eye scanning the treeline-- and his whole body tenses up again. This all feels too familiar. The only difference is there's no rifle in his own hands this time around.
"Tch," Carver sounds out in faint annoyance thus, head turning to study over the ground around them, only for another frustrated sound to rumble somewhere deep within his throat then. "Is everything on this island fucking weird?" he grumbles.
Volya squinted at the treeline, stopping behind Wren and Isaac. She offered a cheerful nod to Wren, "It is the alternate solution to losing one's mind. I try to be helpful when I can." Waving a hand, she grinned, "I did recommend the smaller pieces. It was meant as sort of a continuous release formula, rather than oozing into a puddle." A giggle slipped out of the woman, and she nodded to Carver, "The island is weird, but I try not to put two-stroke engines on that line. They may deserve a place there, but people don't like it when I stare at them like they're crazy like operating commonplace equipment." She grinned as she knelt down to pet the grass.
Lola pauses as Wren does, huffing to herself as she remains low and tense. Watching the treeline. Her nose twitches faintly, head lifting a bit. Her brow furrows as she listens, head canting slightly. Her curiosity piqued. Which only adds to the annoyance cast towards the group who seems decidedly unwilling to get the party started for her. "Come on.. want me to get it started for you?" Murmured lowly to herself as she eyeballs the people there. Some of them might have seen her, but no one has given her up yet. So there is that.
Wren took one hand off of his rifle, and luckily his hands were big enough that he could hold the thing around the stock with the other while he swiped his paw around his face and ears, batting a fly away a couple of times before the bug gave up and flew off. "Oh for Pete's sake!" He chuckled darkly. "I must have killed his family when we treated the cows, and now he's back for revenge." Shuddering slightly, as he'd been zoomed multiple times by the bug and lost track of most... everything, really, he blinked and looked back to the woods with raised brows. "I don't think it's weird, I just think that most of what happens on the mainland over a very spread out area happens to occur here, all on this one island. It makes it seem like the whole place is covered in madness, but really it's just about perspective and proportion. Of course, everything CAN be weird, if you've got the imagination and the stamina for it." Wren eyed the treeline again and sighed. "I can't say that I completely disagree with you, Isaac. I'm worried someone's doing some cutting, and that leaves us with more to worry about than just people. Falling trees don't care if you're just coming to check on people." He looked over at Volya and smiled to her. "Weird in a good way, right?"
"Am I the only one who heard the screaming?" Isaac looks around to the others, giving them his best 'I'm not crazy...am I?' look. "Vee, have you had any candy today? ...and yes, I should have paced myself but now isn't the time. Wren?" He watches as Wren does battle with the fly, finally clearing his throat and gesturing with a head motion over to the woods. "Dying guy, 12 o'clock." He looks to Carver as well but he also did not hear anything apparently, so shrugging his shoulders, Isaac brakes out into a run, heading for the tree-line and then through it, with all the grace that can be expected.
Beyond the bordering line of trees there is a clearing of sorts and further to the north, a dirt track, a red truck is currently parked further up the track. The scrub isn't quite so dense here, the normal forest wildlife and other fauna doing their best to clear the ground so that other things may grow. Ten yards or so past the treeline, there is the body of what could be a local laborer, he is currently bleeding rather badly from a chest wound that if it were any deeper, would probably be letting daylight in from the other side. Stood over the body is something that looks like a scarecrow. Some 6 foot in height, the face made up of a handkerchief with two buttons for eyes and ragged sewing meant to denote a mouth. The chest and arms, a hay-field blue shirt, multiple patches on the arms and elbows suggesting it was a workshirt that had been donated to the 'cause'. Trousers, boots and gloves are the same, old but serviceable items that outlived their life on the field, put to use to make an idol to scare off the crows. This one is moving though... and holding a bloody chainsaw, it's face and chest both bathed in blood in an almost straight line leading from the guard of the saw and up the scarecrow's body. Just behind the scarecrow are two more 'budget' models, little more than bundles of discarded tree limbs that are being held together by will alone to form a roughly humanoid shape. All three of them are doing their best to pretend at being 'alive' though, even their chests expand and contract as if they are taking in air and there is an always at motion quality to their movements.
The scarecrow doesn't take kindly to the interruption, button eyes regarding Isaac as he bursts through the trees and then the stick man is moving, far too quickly to be real, his chainsaw almost leaving Isaac a lot shorter than he would be comfortable with.
It's almost just as fast, that Carver comes rounding around Isaac. The man's quick on his feet when he needs to be, apparently, though to his credit he'd likely set himself to motion immediately after him in the first place. Behind the sunglasses, his eye glints, and he comes after the scarecrow's arm right on the heel of the chainsaw-swing, one hand grabbing onto the thing's forearm and the other thrusting out with an open palm into the elbow.
...Or... where an elbow is supposed to be, anyway.
This promptly causes an annoyed sound in Carver's throat, and he bounces to the side, between the scarecrow and Isaac. "Fucking figures," he mutters, over his own internal assessment of this enemy. "Oy, Brit. If you're point a rifle around then keep the hell out of arm's range, will you? I'll keep this thing busy."
Volya smiled at Wren, "I prefer island weird to mainland weird any day of the week, it's hard for the weird to get lost in the shuffle here." The smile melted away when Isaac mentioned screaming. "I think I missed that part." She pointed back to her bag, "You need to take it as a part of a holistic approach, a univer--" And Isaac sprinted off, Volya sighed. "Finding one's center shouldn't require running!" The fact there was scarecrows moving about and entering melee, Volya's nostril arched. "So right... Unless something wintry happens, I'm just going to..." She gestured for the sake of Wren and started running to the tree line and past the melee to find the source of the scream.
One of the budget model scarecrows makes a lunge for Carver when he emerges, whipping round one of it's branch limbs, aiming for a body strike that ultimately missing. The bundle of sticks hisses at Carver, quite an impressive feat given the lack of lungs or lips.
Lola grins broadly as the party finally gets started. "Finally.." A hushed, hoarse word as she looks to prowl closer, though she's eager. Not as fixated on keeping herself stealthy, yet still able to remain at least somewhat subtle. Keeping her options open as he closes within striking distance steadily.
The second of the stick figures takes a swing at Isaac, sensing perhaps that he isn't the swiftest there after Carver made short work dodging the other. Moving with whip like speed, it aims a sweeping blow at Isaac's legs, hoping to get him on the ground to make him an easier target for the others. Isaac dodges, but barely, earning himself a goose-egg on the shins for his troubles.
Wren was likely getting ready to respond to something, as the surprise had truly registered in his eyes when Isaac mentioned a scream. His mouth had opened, jaw working and all that, but then Isaac was taking off, followed by Carver, then by Volya as well. Taking a breath, Wren just shook his head and started after them, not wasting time talking. What he saw when he cleared the line of trees made him blink his bright blue eyes in surprise. Bringing his gun up to his shoulder, he aimed at the head of the large, more put together scarecrow, and pulled off a round from his rifle, the report echoing through the air and against the trees. He must have been aiming a little too much to the outside in order to avoid Carver and Isaac, because the shot didn't even seem to come close. Maybe it was just a warning shot, across the bow!
Isaac blinks with surprise as Carver bursts through the bushes, the look turning to a frown when he is addressed. "Last time I checked you were on the other side of the trees doing next to naff all." There is a decidedly London lilt to Isaac's speech as he says this, the young man soon forgetting the conversation as a shot rings out from Wren's rifle. "Bad guys, right." Darting off to one side, he levels his rifle and takes aim as quickly as he can, faring no better than Wren as the round whistles off into the distance. "Oh come on!"
The gunshot from Wren's rifle certainly gets the big scarecrow's attention, the straw filled beastie turn it's head to see where the shot came from. Shrugging off any incoming attacks, it heads straight for the local farmer, raising an arm and bringing up it's chainsaw for an overhead move. Dodging at the last moment, Wren narrowly avoids becoming...narrower, the whirring blade whistling past close enough for Wren to smell the lubricating oil on the saw.
Super-budget discount scarecrow number one goes after Volya as she enters the small grove that people are in. It isn't the best of moves but the force behind it is designed to wound if not kill, a gnarled club, aimed for Volya's head that misses only through misfortune on the Stick man's part, it just not being quick enough to deal with the slinky Vee.
"Not running blindly into a saw blade chasing after someone who's already dead," growls Carver over his shoulder, right in the middle of a duck-and-weave around a strawy limb coming for him. He's focused more or less on the chainsaw-wielding scarecrow, however, and shifts himself ready for a counter-attack on his part--
...Only for the chainsaw to go after Wren. "...Eh?" Apparently this wildly confuses Carver. He turns to send a look after the scarecrow with a rapid series of blinks. And then his face twists in sheer anger. "Where the *fuck* do you think you're going," he growls out, suddenly pouncing away from the collection of straw-men to go after the chainsaw-wielding figure, as if though the thing changing targets was some kind of heretical offense against his whole family.
"That thing--" he growls out again, then, when he suddenly bounces to the straw-man's side, and abruptly thrusts an open palm towards it's limb. "...For FUCKING TREES!" And SMASH goes his palm into what amounts to the straw-person's fingers clutching on the mechanical saw. Apparently he doesn't approve of the thing wielding it. For some reason.
Volya slowed her run, looking around slowly for any signs of may have screamed. The woman was staring at one thing thing then the next, her eyes hanging on the blood on the soil with that 'Oh pretty!' look on her face. It was slow to dawn on her the red stuff was supposed to be inside someone. "Oh right." Her eyes followed the blood to the worker when a piece of tree came at her head and she ducked. "WHAT THE HELL!?!" Her feet were moving before she really understood what was going on, and she giggle nervously, "Uh... Nice scarecrow? Are we on the same side, because the whole attempting to crush my skull puts a damper on that relationship."
Lola realizes the stealth thing is a losing game for her and ends up simply bursting forward as she gets into range. And she breaks into a sprint at the biggest, baddest. The chainsaw wielding stick man. "Cobra Kai represent!" She swoops in, flanking the thing as she hop skips and snaps her heel down at the side of one of it's legs. A throaty growl rolls in her chest as she slams her heel down hard and barely misses. Hopping back a step she snarls at the thing, obviously offended that it wouldn't let it's leg get smashed like a good little target. Instinct prompts her to snap around, arms up to block the attack coming at her, though the deflection is imperfect, the light gash she gets weathered without a flinch.
Wren let out a frustrated sound as he was attacked by a bundle of sticks and cloth wielding a chainsaw. Rifles were great at a distance, surely, but when it comes down to handling something on top of you, it's time to make a decision. The rifle was tossed ever so gently to the ground and then Wren's arms came up and into a defensive movement meant to incapacitate the entire side of the Scarecrow's body with the chainsaw. Wren's right hand wrapped and locked around the critter's wrist, his other arm went up and over the scarecrow's shoulder and he stepped into him bodily to cross one leg behind the Scarecrow's closest leg, the other between the thing's two legs. For lack of a better visual, it looked like he was about to pop its arm clean off and shove it out to the world. Wren grunted sharply "I don't think so, buddy. I'm fairly attached to anything you might try to cut off."
"Jesus, I can't be arguing with you right now." Isaac shakes his head and does his best to get back into action, focusing his attention on the chainsaw equipped Scarecrow that so rudely tried to give him a haircut not so long ago. His shot is made a little trickier as Wren is now grappling with the beast, Isaac acutely aware that shooting Wren might mean a cessation of biscuit privileges. Taking a deep breath, he lets out two shots, one aiming for the creature's head, the other for the arm Wren isn't holding on to. Luckily, the both hit...the creature.
The scarecrow with the chainsaw only has eyes...well, buttons for Isaac. Managing to break free from Wren's hold, it charges forward with inhuman speed, delivering an overhand blow that lands squarely on Isaac's shoulder, the screaming starts when the young man notices that the blade is still turning. A spray of blood and flesh stains the scarecrow's face once more, the beast's sewn on mouth twitch up in a smile as Isaac drops to the floor.
One of the slimmer, more agile scarecrows turns on Volya, managing to land an arcing blow on her back that almost knocks the wind out of her, the stick bundled man, turning to face the others as it reels round from the force of the swing.
Volya backup up off the scarecrow, "Nice scarecrow?" Her eyes nervously search from routes, wait, that was a possible screaming person. She uttered, "Oh right...", just as in time to get cracked by a branched arm of the scarecrow causing her to cough and gasp for breath. When she managed to get her breath, she snarled in Russian, "B`lyad'!" As she kept moving back, rubbing the center of her chest. "Seriously, stop. Please."
Lola circles around and rumbles low in her throat, waiting for an opening and finding it. She snaps forward and slams her heel down again, this time catching Manostix with a firm blow that cracks ti's leg, hobbling it. The satisfying crack gets a pleased rumble, putting a bounce into her step. One that leads to her smoothly blocking the incoming attack from her flanker. "Where's a flamethrower when you need one?"
Wren saw first hand what losing the grip on the Scarecrow was going to cause, and he immediately stepped in to take hold of the thing again, jerking its arm away from Isaac and stepping in behind it, wrenching its wrist up while forcing the Scarecrow's body back into an arch. "NO! That's enough, just stop!"
The lumbering b-movie scarecrow does it's best to get out of Wren's hold, the chainsaw in it's hand revving wildly as the beast angrily pulls at everything in it's attempt. Failing to do so, it just turns it's head to look at Wren, button eyes giving it something of an advantage in this staring contest.
One of the wooden bound facsimiles of men makes a swipe for Lola, the red headed human who keeps going for their master's legs. Branches twist and track as the creature shuffles foward, the old oak branch missing Lola by almost a yard.
Volya was still nursing the bludgeon when a scent hit her, and she brought her forearm against her nose to guard it. "That... Is not right." When the stick man breaking off, she turned and started running for the source of the smell as fast as she could. When she neared the truck, she looped around for driver's side, frantically searching for the keys to start it up and move it. "Comon! COMON!" The woman was in a near panic as her eyes watered.
Lola is feeling good. The snappy, bouncy stance she has speaks to it. Bob and weave, she's floating like a butterfly. Time to sting. The attempts by the others to get at her are like nothing to her in this moment. She seems to see it all. And when Wren restrains the big guy, Lola sees her moment. The battered, hobbled thing is at it's weakest. Which is her time to strike. She jumps in and plants her feet, arms drawn back before she starts to tear into it. "No mercy!" Shouted as rapidly jams and slams her fists into the body of the big mag Manostix. Exploiting every tear and weakness, her hands shoved into it's body, gripping and pulling, tearing and ripping. And doing so with an almost manic look of glee. She showers the area around her with sticks and straw and cloth and every other thing she can pull out of it, until there's not enough left for it to maintain integrity. At least this time she won't leave a bloody mess when she gets back to the hostel.
The remaining stick creatures are enraged now, both of them hissing in that eerie way. There only being two left in the immediate area, at least two that are walking, the first targets Wren, the one that was holding onto their leader not so long ago. A whip crack precedes the blow that hits Wren squarely across the shoulders, the larger man barely moving with the impact.
As the sticks and strips of fabric fall from the creature Wren was holding, he dropped its arm and the chainsaw to the ground, spitting. Then came the hollow thump of a branch striking him across the shoulder blades. Letting out a wry chuckle and shaking his head, Wren turned on the newcomer and gave him a smile. "Come on now, that's no way to make friends is it?" Stepping up into the creature, he put his long, muscular arms around it and held him close, tugging him in tightly to his chest with the Stix's arms held fast to its side. "A brotherly hug is all you need, brah." He grunts at the Scarecrow while he squeezes it and keeps it in check despite the fierce fighting and attempted flailing.
The only stick man still mobile decides to go after Lola, the creature moving with an odd halting step as it swings it's entire body around, flailing like a windmill as it narrows the gap between them. It over-estimates its arc though, the one of the creature's arms hitting the ground as it tries to turn too tight a corner, the movement and sudden stop jarring it off course.
Volya slapped at ignition, the key chain giggling as she started the truck up. Working the shift, the gears ground properly and the back tones beeped happily through the trees as the vehicle slowly pulled its way out of the wooded area as she cut the wheel. Stopping, she cut the wheel the other way, gear grinding again as she pulled the truck away from the dump site. Grinning happily, she leaned on the horn to blare its retreat.
Lola is still snappy, still ducking and slapping away attempts by the straw men to do their damage. She's in the zone! And when the chainsaw drops, she's quick snag it. Paused just one moment when she finds it's already turned off. "That's no fun," she grumps. But she's not one to look a gift blunt object in the mouth. She's still eager. "Wasn't there some guy in leather that did this? Am I doing it right?" Wren might feel fortunate the saw is not on because the only thing between him and her swinging that jagged toothed weapon around is just enough layers of animate straw, sticks and cloth that Lola just powers into. Tearing into it with the jagged teeth of the unpowered saw.
The scarecrow that Wren is giving completely platonic hugs to just can't seem to break free. It hisses and writhes, it's limbs thrash wildly but to no avail, the stick man quite simply unable to get any traction with all its limbs off the ground.
Wren grimaced as Lola brought the blessedly silent chainsaw down onto the animated stick figure in his arms. "Hey now!" He sounded only mildly alarmed, but it was Wren, so maybe that was in his language similar to someone sounding a Klaxon. He looked at the thing he was holding and shook his head. "No, no. I think I'm done with this." Squeezing him extra tight, Wren reared his head back and brought it forward, HARD, against what had once been the face and dome noggin of the moving sticks. The cracking sound as the sticks broke was harsh and final, and signaled the end of resistance to the armful of kindling Wren was hugging tightly to his chest.
As the truck containing Volya and more importantly the barrels gets further and further off into the distance, the life in the last stick man just seems to fade. The creature seems to wobble at first and then it just collapses in on itself, the energy that powered the creature just leaving its body. The forest seems to come back to life as well, the multitudes of wildlife that normally inhabit the forest finding their voices again, the various squawks and whistles filling the air once more. Overhead, the clouds start to clear as the wind picks up but there is no chill breeze with this wind, just the usual semi-humid blast that one expects at this time of night.
When Volya managed to bring the truck out to the country road, she slowed the truck to a halt, killing it in the process with the misuse of the clutch. Pulling in the parking break, she climbed out of the vehicle. Checking the back to see if there were labels, but more to the fact that payload was still there. Gesturing with her hands to stay, she ran her way back to the dump site to search for the original screaming victim. "WHERE ARE YOU!?!" It seemed the quickly way than searching, she was so great at that, but you never know.
"I didn't even hit you, quit complaining," Lola says to Wren with a feral grin. Which falters some when the last creature falls apart all by itself. "That's no fun," she grunts, glancing around to make sure that's the last of them. Which it is. So she tosses the chainsaw aside, unconcerned for the blood on her hands from handling it. "Suck they're so dry," she adds with a grunt. Mildly disappointed. As Volya runs back in, she glances over at the woman, a brow lifted.
Wren opened his arms so that the sticks he'd been holding could fall to the ground, and he looked at Lola with a slow, dangerous smile. "I never complain with a lady comes at me all sorts of dangerous, Miss Lola. I was just hoping you'd wait to bring out the heavy machinery til we had a moment alone together." He winked at Lola as his smile turned dashing, then looked over at Vee. Rolling his shoulders, he loosened up a bit as he looked at the other creature that had fallen down. "Looks like they're all down, I'm going to have to drive Isaac to the hospital. Vee... are you looking for him?" He used his hand to indicate body of the man that had been carved thoroughly by the chainsaw before they'd arrived. "I don't know if he's going to be OK, but I can take him in the bed of my truck with Isaac to the hospital?"
Volya tried to follow the blood to where she saw it, panting as she searched. When Wren came up, she managed a wiggling of fingers that may have been a wave, but not really. "I uh..." She gestured to the body of the worker, "Deal with Isaac, yes. Absolutely. I'll call to police... Can I use you're house phone? I mean the truck... Chemicals..." She gestured to the dump site and nodded rapidly. "And fingerprints and stuff... I don't know what else to do."
Lola scoffs at Wren. "Keep going if you like broken bones," she rumbles hoarsely. She glances around. The fun is done. And the others care about the clean up. So she doesn't have to. "Maybe the next ones will be more juicy. Enough of these no blood and guts nasties. Just not satisfying." Disappointed. She turns and starts to walk away, heading off into the trees.
Wren nodded to Volya and gave her a wide, warm smile. "Vee, you can come into my house and use anything of mine you ever need or want, you know that." He licked his lips and looked thoughtful for a moment. "You may as well use my place to chat with the Police when they come out, too, at least it's comfortable. And right next door." A bright, amused laugh rumbled Wren as he shook his head at Lola's exit. "If it's that intense, how could I resist?" He looked back to Volya and motioned her closer. "Come on, Vee. Let's go get this taken care of. I don't want Isaac to suffer more, or wake up and suffer. I'll show you where the lemonade and glasses are for the cops."
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