****Olde York Opera House, Greenwich Village
A scarlet colored gargoyle and a yellow green beast glided into a structure the gargoyle deduced must be used for thespian and entertainment purposes as he soon landed in a storage room filled with obvious hand crafted displays for backdrops and stage settings.
Relieved of his burden of carrying Anaheim, he briefly looked around the storage room, being momentarily amused at the primitive theatre sets and props as they reminded him of the New Olympians' elaborate and state of the art plays and festivals when theatre performers reenacted myths and tales of old. What he saw for human theatre productions seemed clumsy and gaunt in comparison, yet he was given to understand human 'moving pictures,' or movies as they were called, always featured the latest in 'special effects.' Yet he was certain whatever humans considered 'entertainment' was all crude, pointless, and insulting.
But enough musing, the real question was why did she want to meet here in the first place?
Looking around, Typhon finally spotted who he was looking for sitting on a large wooden crate.
"There you are, Fury," Typhon said to Demona, "I had been unsure if I came to the right meeting place, but why here?"
Instead of answering, Demona eyed the olivine gargbeast in surprise and mild disgust as she spat out, "What is _that_?"
Typhon quirked a brow ridge as he said, "It is a gargbeast, Thailog calls it 'Anaheim.' Do they not have beasts in your clan?"
"Of course they do," Demona snared insulted, "It's just I though this one was. . ." she then tried to compose herself as she realized her temper was getting the better of her, and she could not afford to alienate or lose this valued ally.
She then noticed the beast was actually growling viciously at her with blood red glowing eyes.
"It appears he does not like you, Fury," Typhon said, making Demona roll her eyes at his grasp of the obvious, "It's understandable, I don't much care for this beast either."
"What's he up to now?" Demona said with a clear tone she wanted to drop the subject.
Typhon gave a growling sigh as he said, "It's the same as it's been for weeks now, he conducts his 'business' with humans and their nefarious 'crime families.' It repulses me, I grow tiresome of all this cloak and dagger intrigue."
"What else has he done, has he made any moves against Goliath's clan?"
"He uses the robot Coldsteel and Darius for that, and they're now working on some sort of 'soul transfer' spell. But a personal move, no not yet. He's more interest in acquisition and establishing power over the humans of this city. He only has the weakened form of a gargoyle, but acts more like a deceitful human. He protects nothing, he has no honor."
Demona looked away in contemplation for a moment, her brow deeply furrowed as she said aloud,
"Yes, and like the damn humans, a rare exception to the rule."
Typhon gave her a confused and curious look, but before he could ask anything, she said,
"Just keep watching him, because I'm certain whatever move against the humans he plans the clan will get involved in sooner or later. What I need to know now is if you've assessed any kind of weakness he has."
"So far, only his arrogance and his constant attempt to misdirect me with lies and half truths. Tonight he told me Icarus might be in a place called Gramercy Park," Typhon said with slight frustration.
"Thailog always was good at telling what someone wanted to hear instead of the honest truth," Demona hissed.
"What did you see in him as a mate, anyway?" Typhon suddenly asked, making Demona give him a hard surprised look of indignation.
"That is something I never want to speak of again," she said with an icy undertone.
"As you wish, Fury," Typhon simply responded.
"Just tell me what you know of Thailog's plans," she demanded crossly.
Typhon was unsure of how to word what had had observed from Thailog and his insidious activities at Nightstone, much of it being very alien to him. Yet what he was able to describe to Demona seemed to make her fume all the more as she realized what it all meant.
"What he's using *my* company for and what he's turning it into is outrageous," Demona hissed.
As much as Typhon agreed with her, he could not help but wonder. . .
A rough scratching interrupted his thoughts as it then lead to the sound of creaking and breaking wood.
"What's that?" Demona said alarmed, "Where's that beast?!"
The red and blue gargoyles dashed about the theatre storage room looking hither and about for the missing Anaheim.
Demona then turned a corner to find the olivine colored beast chewing and ripping at big wooden strips he had torn from an old stage backdrop of a Viking ship.
"What are you doing, you stupid beast?!" Demona cried in horror, "Stop that!"
She madly dashed up to Anaheim and desperately tried to grab away the various torn and chewed up wooden steaks and splinters from the gargbeast clone, yet instead of timidly backing away from the angered Demona, Anaheim viciously snarled at her and suddenly bit down hard on her hand like a vice with knife sharp teeth.
"Argh!" Demona cried in pain as she cradled her bleeding hand, the deep bite wounds already rapidly healing with her immortality.
Beast clone and immortal gargoyle stared off dangerously at each other, both with blood red glowing eyes and deep throaty growls aimed at the other.
Demona made a sudden and rapid move as she hissed like a flared hooded cobra, making Anaheim leap at her with his fangs exposed in a roaring growl to begin clawing at her with powerful talons and snapping equally powerful jaws at her and tried to ensnare her neck in a deadly bit.
Ancient primal instinct, which had become infused within all creatures of nature throughout countless incomprehensible millennia of evolution, coursed as wildfire through both predatory creatures in a clash of survival of the fittest in an adrenaline rush to boost strength and stamina. Yet here between two species of gargate, it was aggressive self-preservation versus survivalist experience with Anaheim impulsively snapping and clawing at Demona in an unpredictable pattern while she used her own strength and fighting skills to hold back the large gargbeast. Yet, this was not enough to prevent her from receiving deep bloodied scratches from Anaheim's claws and nips.
"Anaheim, cease at once!" shouted Typhon as he desperately tried to pull the large gargbeast off of the azure gargoyle.
Typhon was able to hold Anaheim in a tight bear hug for only half a second, yet the olivine gargbeast squirmed hard enough to break Typhon's hold on him and attack the scarlet New Olympian instead.
Anaheim's attack on Typhon only lasted a full second but it was enough for him to leave deep wounds in Typhon's abdomen, chest, and shoulders as he pushed against the large gargoyle to make a running leap for escape.
Running his way through the opera house storage room, Anaheim crashed through the building's side door, turning it into shattered kindling, as he gave a defiant howl. He only assessed his surroundings for but a moment as a single simple instinct surged through him; return to Master.
Back within the opera house, Typhon had quickly recovered from the attack, and knew his minor wounds will heal at sunrise. He was more concerned with Demona, whom he looked at with worry as he saw the extent of her wounds, yet as she stood she acted as though they were nothing.
"Are you alright, Fury?" he asked worriedly.
"I'll be fine," she growled, "We must get that beast back, it'll ruin everything. I can't allow it to reveal my presence in the city."
Though a bit reluctant to go after the beast, Typhon could understand Demona's point, highly paranoid though it sounded.
Together, the red and blue gargoyles set out to find the escaped gargbeast.
****Central Park, same night
"N-n-nice doggie, g-good doggie," the would-be purse snatcher stuttered as Bronx held him down with his full body strength and growled warningly at him with white glowing eyes.
Nearby, Nudnik did the same as Bronx, only appearing more adorable than tough.
"Good boy, Bronx," Graeme said as his sister picked up the stolen goods and made her way to find the thief's would-be victim, who as expected, ran off at the frightful sight of gargoyles.
Desdemona steadily pulled Bronx off of the thief, a boy in his mid teens, and firmly, but gently grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him from getting away.
"Why ya pickin' on me, ya freaks?" he loudly groaned, "I din hurt nobody."
"By stealing that woman's hand bag, you have in a sense done her harm," Desdemona firmly said.
"I jes' needed her money, not the whole purse," he said defensively, as the split winged female began pushing him to a secure place to be found by police.
"For what, to buy drugs?" Graeme accused, "Must want to try that weird sounding Obscura stuff that's going around on the streets."
"Neva touch the stuff," the purse thief said defensively, "Jes' needed ta eat."
"There are shelters where you can get food," Desdemona said.
"Yeah, in the cruddiest nehbahoods, lady, wi' gangs and drug dealers, rapists, and muhdahrahs. I avoid those places, but whaddaya freaks care."
"I do not understand," said a confused Desdemona, "You are not like other street urchins we have captured before. If all you wish is to have food to survive, do you not have a home or clan that provides it for you?"
"Pfft, my parents don't care 'bout me, my own dad kicked me out months ago jes' 'cause I'm . . . ah, what am I tellin' ya for, you're bigger freaks than I am."
"You were banished from your clan?" said a surprised Desdemona, "What was so terrible that you deserved banishment?"
"You know, Aunt Des, if he's just down on his luck he could go to the Labyrinth," Graeme suggested.
"What's that?" asked the thief begrudgingly, "Some criminal insane asylum?"
Desdemona was about to answer when Graeme said in a panic, "Wait, where's Nudnik?!"
They both looked around rapidly for the young gargbeast just as Ariana returned, a confused look coloring her features.
"I swear he was here just a second ago," Graeme said panic stricken.
"Calm yourself, my rookery son, we will find him," Desdemona instructed, "Bronx, find Nudnik."
Bronx sniffed around for some moments to get the pup's scent before giving a low growl and then a signaling bark as he trotted in a different direction.
"That way," Desdemona said.
"Hey, ya know if ya've lost yer dog I can help find 'im," the teenage thief said.
"That'd be great, but why help us after we caught you for mugging?" Asked Ariana.
"I like dogs and I used ta have one like those when I was a kid. Now I'll neva see 'em again 'cause my jackass of a dad threw me out," the young man said bitterly.
"They are gargbeasts," corrected Desdemona, "but I understand the similarity. What is your name, young human?"
"Jacob," he said, "But my friends, if I had any, would call me Jake."
"Your assistance will be most appreciated," Desdemona said, "We will discuss your reasons later, for now we must find Nudnik before he gets too far."
Bronx yelped at the gargoyles and teenage human again more urgently as he made a few back and forth bounces for them to follow, and then rapidly dashed off in pursuit of tracking Nudnik's scent.