Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25924729-20160516065101/@comment-25924729-20160802133447

"Best not get cocky just yet, she's a lot tougher than you'd think, especially on her own hunting grounds..." Dalton warned, while rummaging through his satchel. Moments later, he tossed Ale a device like a surgical mask, and pulled on an identical mask over his lower face.

"Air filters, for methane poisoning. Not the best solution, but should keep us from choking to death. Aura should cover the rest of our bodies, just... try not to run out of it down there, or else..." he left the rest unsaid.

There wasn't a doggie shaped mask for Bucky, however, nor could Dalton carry his partner down the steep ladder. So he gave the german shepherd a regretful pat, and sent him home.

Left alone with Ale now and sporting a gas mask, the boy heaved open the manhole over with the bartender's help. He drew a tonfa and lit it's tip, using the bright yellow crackle of electricity as a makeshift torch, and hopped in, landing with a splash in a stream of murky water.

Slowly, he lowered the tonfa to the ground, and sighed in mild releif that in the early hours of morning, the sewers were relatively clean of... he didn't want to think about it. But there was something else too. The dark water was also tinted with streaks of a pale, dirty red, trailing all the way to into the dark end of the tunnel. Blood...

"Oh Faye..." Dalton muttered under his breath. He followed the grisly trail, dreading what they would find at it's end...