Log:Blood On The Leaves: The Ashen Hunt
| Blood On The Leaves: The Ashen Hunt | |
|---|---|
"Are we going to kill anything?" | |
| Participants
Logan, Glitch, Ziv, Dielle, Czcibor, Teagan, Alonso, Poppy, Vorpal, Duncan, Ashe |
2017.11.26 The Autumn Court holds the Ashen Hunt for 2017. Part of the Blood On The Leaves plot. |
| Location
East Bank | |
| It's been almost a month since Anne Marie Tennyson was found hanging from the Stagbridge. Weeks after that it was found out that it was a group of travelling Hunters that were behind it. And Magister of Nightmares for the Autumn Court had declared them the Prey for this years Ashen Hunt. Mmm. Yes. It's a good night for a hunt as well. The temperature is low and it's snowing. So for some it might not be so nice. Like humans. But these humans have been proven to be guilty of many crimes against the Changelings of the local area and other Freeholds. There little base of operations is up on the East Bank. Where the other weird stuff has been going on, but it's set back in an old sort of...camp ground? Like Friday the 13th meets concrete outbuildings type setup. Someone scouted ahead for the intelligence (THANK ZIV FOR THAT!). This is a community endeavor, so Freehold or no people have been welcomed to aid in the plan to end lives tonight. A shocking moment: Teagan is letting someone else touch Baby. Le fucking gasp. The Squire eyes the machete nervously as long as it's in Glitch's grasp, and clutches it close to themselves as soon as it's handed back over. The Mirrorskin's shadows are thicker than usual, and they hang back from the group, waiting for instructions. "Gonna ghost, when it comes to it," is all they say, as if they expect someone to understand what they mean by that. What, they're gonna stop returning the condemned's phone calls and never date them again? The upshot of being an indigent day laborer, is that you have the look of an indigent day laborer when it comes time to infiltrate the proverbial wrong side of the tracks. Wearing his beaten up old duster, a blue work shirt, and a floppy old hat, Alonso looks like he's waiting for work outside of the Home Depot. Not tracking down experienced Hunters. He keeps his own counsel, though, arms crossed for warmth, coat bundled about himself, hat down to shadow his eyes. He's like seven different cliches at once, and none of them really cooperate. "Do it, then. I'd rather them fire at me, anyway," drawls Vorpal, standing in a deep swath of shadows nearby Teagan and Glitch while they work on Baby. He's drenched in caustic shadows, a suit of stylized armor visible through the darkness. Triplet thorns the length of a man's forearm dangle from his waist, and a queer, dark-stained Hedgespun knife rests in one hand. His shadow twitches, roils and fidgets. Everything about him is as a spring, wound and waiting to lash out. He arrived with Ziv, and looks her way now. "Let's us work together, you and I. May the Hunt bless my fists and your feet for a day, and may the blessings turn on us if we refuse each other our assistance in this chase, hm?" He offers one gloved hand her way, awaiting her response. He's polite enough to strip the shadows off his hand when he does. Logan, meanwhile, looks like he's prepared for a day of well-dressed hunting in the woods. Because that's what they're doing, right? He's wearing a slim-cut, dark blue anorak of some kind that appears to be zipped over several layers, along with gray cargo-type pants and some expensive hiking boots. This is to say nothing of the huge freakin' rifle he has strapped across his back. On his head -- for luck, perhaps -- is a blue Dodgers baseball cap. Maybe they lost the World Series, but that doesn't mean they're still not lucky! His light is significantly dimmed down, so there is a lot more darkness roiling around him than usual. Given the company here, that means he'll probably fit in. He approaches the others with a smile, though it's not a big grin. Just a smile. He looks ecited, actually. Go team. For the record: Teagan is not dressed like Teagan normally dresses. Currently, they're in a ratty Black Watch plaid flannel, silver ribbones tied at the hip of their black khakis, and they're wearing beat-up grey sneakers. Their face is sort of 'generic' at the moment. They're just some guy, you know? Some... random dude, in flannel. Damn Mirrorskins. Their gaze slides to Vorpal, and they nod just the once toward him. "It's how I do." Poppy quietly arrives with Duncan, for once not making any snarky comments or humming; it's really unclear why she's along, unless it's to provide some kind of support, she does have a small, close-fitting backpack on her back. Maybe it's actually a pod person. The siren's seaweed-streaked hair is braided and coiled at the base of her neck, and she's wearing a slightly loose black shirt over grey jeans; for once, the stilettos are nowhere in sight and she's wearing knee-high, leather boots with a minimal heel. Definitely a pod person. Ziv, for her part, is keeping at least an arm's length in between herself and Vorpal at all times - no way in hell or Arcadia is she getting near the biting aura that the Shadowsoul has around himself. She does seem somewhat interested in what's going on with Baby, Teagan, and Glitch - but only mildly. Some things can only hold her attention for so long, afterall, and this appears to be relatively beyond her. As Vorpal's shadow-stripped hand extends towards her, though, she gives a small nod and partially folds her wingtines in so she can take hold of his hand, enveloping it in chilly wing-leather. "I'm up for that... hoping it won't be uh, if I have to retreat, though." Probably referencing the breaking of the Pledge, there. "...And if you want them to focus on you, just make yourself big, scary, and loud. A lot of humans are... kind of like animals, like that." She herself is wearing dark colors, though has reverted to the hoodie and jeans look, again with no shoes. There's a glimmer of silver from a delicate silver snowflake pendant she wears, poking out from underneath a long, flowy silvery-grey scarf with extended trimmings on the end. Glitch looks as sketchy as he usually does. The massive backpack he totes around is gone, leaving him in just a dingy gray hoodie, dark jeans, and black sneakers. Accessorized with a sword strapped across his back. He slides his hands across every surface of Baby; if Teagan doesn't like people touching the machete, this might test them a bit, in exchange for power. He grazes his pixellated touch down the flat of the blade, caresses his thumb across the edge to test for sharpness, grips the handle firmly in his hand and feels the balance. It's all rather intimate. Eventually, he hands it back, and Teagan can feel the subtle solidness of it, a secure sensation, like he's just taken the whole thing part and given it a good cleaning. "I'm following your lead," he says to Teagan. "If anyone else has strats for me, let's hear them now, or I'm just going to start one-shotting these assholes the second we hit combat," he mutters. Duncan is relatively new to the area and Fate's Harvest, but the Elemental shows up to do his bit. He's dressed in a black pea coat over a dark shirt, blue jeans, and black combat boots and sports no obvious weapons or tell-tale Contracts. Not exactly loaded for bear. Knowing no one here save Poppy, he offers a friendly grin all around and then hangs out near the Siren, waiting to see how this going to go down. Dielle is somewhere near Czcibor, tonight. She's wearing a black wool overcoat over some kind of clothing that can't be seen. She's carrying a paper sack with her, the kind with twine handles. It's got the name of a local bakery on it, and she drove them there. She's got an eager look on her face, as she keeps trying to see what it is that Czcibor is carrying. Her truck has some padding in the back, and a plank to use as a table that's propped up on a couple of blocks. And Czcibor actually rode there in the back of Dielle's truck because the giant blanketed box he's got with him wouldn't fit comfortably in the cab with them, and he didn't want to leave it alone. His massive black greatcoat's buttoned up. He carefully gets out of the back of the truck. "We'll be right here if any of you gets hurt," he says vaguely, and waves a hand. He definitely smells of alcohol, and he even more carefully reaches to drag the giant box closer to the edge of the back. When he takes the blanket off, it's a huge cat carrier, and there's... more vodka in it. He starts taking it out and putting it at the edge of the truck. His coat meows plaintively. "Don't mind us." Vorpal shakes Ziv's hand and grins as the daypledge settles over them before glancing towards Glitch and raising his voice a little to address anyone who cares to listen. "I'm planning on being one of the first to approach. I'm hoping they just open fire on me. If you can fight at range, I'd recommend taking up a position where you can see a target and -wait.- They have one of ours captive, last we knew, so don't shoot before you can ID your target. If you get up close and personal, you might want to let me get in there first to draw fire, but at the end of the day, it's your call. Try to keep them from fleeing if you can, but if you can't..." Vorpal rolls his shoulders. "I can find them. So first priority, keep yourself and the hostage safe. They're gonna know we're here, so if you see something, say something." He heads over to where Dielle and Czcibor are setting up, and pulls off a satchel to drop at their feet. "Blushberries, a few more Catseye Clover, and some Coupnettle in there. Eat'em if you need'em, Captain, Cap'n." Vorpal seems to realize he'd named something useful and bends to take one of the coupnettle out, noshing as he turns to face their quarry. "...Might... want someone who can do so... to sneak around behind and get to the hostage. So that they... can't use them... if they're alive, for leverage," offers up Ziv, as she retracts her wing back to herself, straightening up a little bit, and then folding both around her. She doesn't have any visible weapons, really, other than her claws (and presumably her teeth). There's a flick of her ears back as she looks over at Glitch, and then Teagan, and Vorpal, before her attention slides onto Logan questioningly, and then finally off towards Czcibor and Dielle. "Ey Pops," Teagan greets quietly, tipping their chin up to Duncan, who's come with the well-known siren. They're not looking at Glitch totally getting far too familiar with Baby, because that shit is testing their goddamned will. When the machete's handed back over, they snatch it right back and pull it in close to them. "Who do they have captive? They may put the captive up in such a way that it isn't, like, obvious." There's a loose salute for Dielle, a tip-up of their chin for Czcibor, and a general sort of vague wave of their scarred hand toward all and sundry, including the hatted day laborer, who they address in... Spanish? Probably. That sounds like Spanish, with the same heavy South Philly accent that they usually have. Then their head turns back toward Ziv. "I heard the word sneaking. Clearly you were asking for me." Glitch folds his arms. "Sounds like you're the one going in after the captive," he murmurs to Teagan. There's a beat as he looks at Ziv, and then back over at Teagan. "You know I have to do that or it doesn't work, right?" "Hello, everyone." Logan seems to -- not entirely be listening to Vorpal, truth be told, but he does come a little closer, and he does offer Ziv a smile when she looks his way. "I'll be your marksman this evening. Seems like there are plenty of people here who look skilled with close-range combat. I know I'm not worried about our success. Victory is assured." He flashes his brilliant teeth as he takes the rifle off his back to inspect it, make sure it's all ready to go. Snipers don't give away their positions. So Ashe isn't anywhere to be seen. The group however isn't too far away from the base of operations...more like kiddie base. There's not really a fine military backing. Not like one might expect with Hunters. Probably some young guys that got some nutso followings. But there are lights and people moving around in buildings. That much can be seen from their positions. "...If we can, we'll probably want to draw them out into the open. Since... Well. It's the best way for our shooters to... shoot," Ziv even makes finger guns in Logan's direction. It looks really awkward, given she has bat wings instead of proper hands. Even if they look more like hands than regular bat wings. "...And yeah, Teagan, I figure you're... good at sneaking in and um... assassinating. Vorpal's too big and showy for that." Bat-diss. Dielle shakes her head at Vorpal. "We're good. We're sidelining ourselves for first aid and being alibis." She grins at Czcibor and is trying not to visibly go gooey over whatever's in the box. She's failing, it's like a melting marshmallow unicorn. Whatever it is that Teagan says to Alonso cracks his facade of the cool and collected outsider. His hat lifts up, and there's a broad and toothy grin on his face which promptly breaks into a mirthful chuckle. He tips his hat Teagan's way in agreement. Since his silence has been broken, he weighs in with his own more continental Spanish accent. As in from Spain. "Getting in and getting out is my specialty. If I cannot make it out with the captive, I can at least keep them safe until the rest of you reach us. Not that I insist upon this, of course. But having fought with that one--" he points at Vorpal directly "--you won't be needing me in the main push." Poppy flashes Teagan a bright smile. "Hey," she murmurs to the other Lost, before glancing briefly to Glitch's up close and personal moment with the mirrorskin's machete, blinking. Looking back to the mirroskin, she grins as they look towards Ziv, and she turns her attention to the batling herself, offering a small, very brief wave for familiar faces. At Ziv's words, she tilts her head. "If you don't give a fuck about subtley, could always make some noise, but I doubt anybody brought a mike." A small smirk. Yes, not all shooters are sneaky snipers, hiding in the darkness. Some prefer to move around a lot, and Logan is one of those shooters. He raises a hand to Dielle and Czcibor in greeting, though he doesn't actually head over to them. He's clustered closer to the others, presumably. "I agree with Ziv. Smoke them out." He gives her a little wink for her trouble. "I got that impression. I'm leaving them here so you guys'll have them on hand if anyone needs them," Vorpal explains to Dielle and Czcibor before offering thumbs up and... taking the glove off his free hand. The glove, he leaves with the bag. He gets back in time to hear Ziv, and snorts. "ExCUSE me," he retorts, too indignant to be entirely serious. He's making fun of himself here. "I am -perfectly- capable of sneaking in there myself. I am being -polite- and remaining visible so at least the first few shots go at the guy who can dodge bullets. So. Hush your tiny cute mouth, Ziv." He hears Poppy's voice, and tips the Siren a nod, before glancing back to Alonso and Teagan. "You two think you could coordinate to try to liberate the captive while we engage whoever comes out when we start making a ruckus? I'm not in charge of anyone- but we might as well organize a little before we start taking heads." Duncan offers a grin to Teagan in return for her nod, then turns to see the truck pull in. He gives Dielle a quick nod when she steps out. "Captain." Otherwise Duncan is waiting around and listening to the cross talk as people discuss the plan. There's no particular impatience in the Elemental's posture, but there is a sense of energy, waiting to be unleashed. Assessing the weapons, armor, and Contracts some of the others are sporting, the man gives an appreciative chuckle. "Looks like I'm under-dressed again," he remarks. Czcibor... takes off his meowing coat and solemnly, SO CAREFULLY, hands it to Dielle. "Please," he whispers, "put them in the carrier, they are all in pockets, I did not want them to get cold on the way." And then everyone can see his nearly-everpresent satchel of holding, and he's digging stuff out of it while giving somewhat-buzzed smiles to people who try to tell him things. "If you're going in, please go in before the ruckus," he tells Alonso, and holds out a half-full waterbottle of red liquid toward the guy. "Blushberry and amaranthine squash for the captive if they're in rotten shape when you get there, okay? I think I also put red tea in there, it tastes good." Then he withdraws, nods to Vorpal, and briefly puts a hand on Ziv's shoulder on his way back to the truck. Dielle nods back at Duncan and waves at all the various people she knows, before taking the coat from Czcibor. Noting how carefully he handles it, she takes it just as carefully. And manages not to squeal, because it's the Ashen Hunt and squealing over pockets full of kittens really isn't done. She starts carefully transferring them to the carrier on the back of the truck, one at a time, in such a way that they can't escape. She's still listening to what's going on, but notes, "Duncan, I've got some borrowed Kevlar, you want it? Kowal and I are staying here to play healers-on-the-side." "You... probably know the best positioning for yourself, then," Ziv offers up to Logan, with a small nod, before swapping to asking for his input, perhaps, "Do you think a wide opened or more narrow space would be better? I'm thinking that I'll... probably let Vorpal-" whose commentary she's currently ignoring "-draw them in and then... drop from above. I -think- that might be most effective... For me, anyway. I'll probably be moving around for positioning, too. I can't shapeshift and attack." Ziv also nods to Czcibor with a small grin - she'll probably have to ask him what's up with the meowing coat and litter of kittens later. "A narrow space is better, Ziv. The less they can move, the easier it is to pick them off." Logan smiles brightly at the batling. "Those of us who attack from afar will be at an advantage if the others can corner and hobble the ones they can't get at first pass. That's my opinion, anyway." He shrugs and smiles again, all casual and confident. This is no big deal and they will definitely all win. "I know you have to fondle Baby for it to work, Player One, that doesn't mean I have to like it." Teagan curls their machete in their left hand, and then chucks their chin up at Alonso. "Well, let's stop fucking around and go, then." And then? They're gone. Bye. Guess now is when shit starts going down. Alonso accepts the bottle of mash from Czcibor with a decidedly bemused expression. But in the end, there's a nod of agreement. "Very well." The bottle is secreted away in his duster for now, amid a shower of actual dust. The stuff seems to cling to him quite readily. Teagan is given a simple chin up, "I think we can handle matters, eh? At the very least, we can help our snipers zero in on the muzzle flashes when we're gunned down ignominiously." He doesn't do anything quite so flashy as ceasing to be standing there. He just stalks off into the shadows, which seem quite happy to have him. The siren turns towards the sound of meowing, an amused smile playing about her lips; it seems like she's about to say something, then self censors and instead wordlessly elbows Duncan towards Dielle's offer of kevlar. Looking back towards Ziv, Poppy's expression turns thoughtful and as Teagan speaks, then vanishes, she gives a sharp grin. It seems she's waiting to see how things start. Duncan gives Dielle's offer a moment of consideration. There's a glances aside at Poppy when she elbows him, and then he shrugs. "Sure," he tells the Captain. "I may have made someone else wear mine." Then he heads for truck to collect the armor, studiously ignoring kittens-in-a-coat. Shedding his own coat reveals a pistol in a shoulder holster, which he also has to remove to get the armor on. Duncan leaves his coat behind, despite the cold, and seems no worse for it. Vorpal heaves a TERRIBLY put-upon sigh of exasperation as his protest is disregarded, watching Alonso and the absence previously known as Teagan head off towards the base. "Give them a couple, and then... well. I'll make some noise. If you've got a longarm and haven't got your perch, now's the time, folks." Vorpal pulls the wicked Hedgespun butcher's knife up and hones it against the fingers of his bare hand, stropping the knife against his digits and vice versa, studying the place while he gives the sneaks time to do their work. There's no trouble for Teagan and Alonso to move Unseen amongst the outer buildings that look like they've been ages without seeing anyone in them. Something probably happened here. Something bad. When the Spaniard and the Shadow get closer they can tell that there is a building that is boarded up, that has a note on the outside door: WARNING: IT BITES! What is that all about? Well, that's something. The Mirrorskin takes in a deep breath and keeps moving, spiraling inward, checking all the outer buildings with the sort of patient thoroughness born of habit. The shadow of their heat follows after them, though no footsteps do. They come up to the boarded-up building, and slowly advance unseen around it, looking for a window, a crack, anything at all that they can peek through to be sure that 'it' which bites is, yanno. What they're looking for. Czcibor climbs back into the back of Dielle's truck and plants himself on the vodka side of the plank-and-rock table, then drapes his now-empty coat over the cat carrier to make sure the kittens still have the option of warmth when they're not getting warmth through being cuddled. He opens a bottle and takes a swig before starting to shuffle the cards, then dealing five card stud in front of himself and Dielle... ...yeah, they'll be right here. Alonso is ridiculously quick and light on his feet. The shadows seem to oblige him as he flits across the open ground, then straight up the side of one of the out buildings, and along the wall just below the roof line. He peers in the occasional window before springing along to the next building, eschewing the ground whenever possible. It's like watching a jumping spider navigate a series of match boxes, really. He pauses some distance in to get his bearings, crouched at the corner of a conveniently boarded up building. It's then he spots the sign, ticks his head, and begins creeping around the walls, once more peering into the windows. A forboding silence and wall of shadow begins to fall over the building, courtesy of the wallwalking Spaniard. And better, they both have markers in front of them of varying colors, to match the kittens that are now in the carrier. Behold, the prizes! There's a walkie-talkie near them, so they can find out if they'll be needed. Poppy smirks at Duncan's comment to Dielle, looking entirely unrepentant, then gives Vorpal's sharpening of the butcher's knife an interested look for a long moment. Or maybe it's just easier to look at the man's hands than his face. A quick glance at the poker-liquor-and-kitten game happening on the truck, then the siren then turns her attention across to the compound, eyes pensive as she watches. After a moment, she frowns and says, "Hm. There are propane tanks between the fucking buildings, if anybody has a use for that." Ziv, for the most part, is just waiting - she kind of inches away from Vorpal as the blades come out, but not too terribly far. She'll follow along when movement happens, not taking the high ground yet, Anakin. There's a quirk of one elongated ear, and she looks over at Poppy with those words, teeth meeting her lower lip, "Those -might- be useful... they are just humans, though." Vorpal gives the sneaks a few moments to get a head start and begin their infiltration, then lifts his free, razored hand and waves towards the place. "All aboard who's coming aboard," he states, starting to move towards the complex. He's focused on spotting approaching enemies and lines of fire, and on staying ahead of the others. "Check them. Make sure they aren't rigged. If they're loose, move them into view from where we came. I trust those we came with not to shoot them if we're near them, and they might prove useful. Worst case, they'll at least know they're here, and not hit them on accident." Logan doesn't seem particular interested in following Vorpal's orders, but he has started to move forward himself, already taking the high ground, if there is any -- unlike Ziv. He's the cover for the people on the ground, the ones heading straight towards any danger. There's a bit of scratching against the wall where the sign is on the door once the two of them make their first pass. It might be a bit odd given Alonso's Quietus. But they can definitely hear it, the humans not so much. Which is indeed a good thing. Duncan straps on the borrowed flak vest, then thinks better of it and puts his coat back on over the top. Now he is ready to move out. Noting several of the group have already set off, he joins with the rest as they follow. He does pause briefly when Poppy and Ziv mention the propane tanks, and though he hears Vorpal's suggestion, he's not diverting to check them himself. The Elemental marches quietly forward, making making use of what cover is available from potential gunfire but no great effort at stealth. Glitch is very quiet. He pushes off and moves along slowly with the small group, hands in his pockets, not reaching for his sword just yet. Sticking to the treeline, not getting ahead of the rest of the group. Alonso finishes his circuit of the rooftop and pauses at a point, putting his ear to the wall. There's a moment or two of consideration, at which point he flits up the wall and onto the roof, moving with that same uncanny grace to the chimney stack. He pauses to adjust the hat upon his head, hops up onto the chimney top, jumps into the air, and evaporates just like that. There's a gust of wind, then. A downward draft and knocks some dust and creosote off the inside of the chimney, which only adds to the whole creepy shadowy effect of him suddenly materializing on the hearth of the fireplace below, crouched low and prepared for anything. Dielle picks up her hand and looks at it. She frowns and says, "So...this is where I discard any cards I don't like, right?" She's either not clear on the rules of the game or she's pretending. Either way, she looks damned ignorant of poker and quite eager to learn. Teagan's voice comes to be heard right by Vorpal's ear all of a sudden, and only he can hear it, psst bro, some news for you: "There's a boarded-up building here, with a sign on the outside that says 'Warning, it bites.' I think that's where our captive is. Alonso... okay, he just ... jumped down the chimney, I think. Will send word when I'm sure." The invisible Mirrorskin counts down seconds inside their head, not as accurately as a Telluric, but that's okay, right? Vorpal stops for a moment- just a half-second- before continuing, nodding once to himself. "Sounds like there's a boarded up building ahead. I'm gonna take a little lead, here. Hang back if you're worried about getting shot or spotted. You can come with if you don't particularly care." The Hedgespun blade twirls in his hand, and he starts forward at a more rapid pace, shadows rising to hide his movements and wreath his form as he proceeds. Vorpal prowls the land, seeking those whom he may liberate... or devour. There's no sound that greets Alonso for the first few moments. Shortly after is the smell of blood and must. Then there's the shifting of something. "Santa?" is the soft whispered words of a woman. There's no light in here. But coming down the chimney there's only one good guess. "Santa Claus is in the modern sense is a capitalist construct meant to indoctrinate children into consumer culture and sell Coca-Cola. Also, I am becoming a Jew. These facts aside, I do bring you the gift of liberty, if you wish it." Alonso takes a moment to pull out one of his cigarillos and strike a match by which to light it, briefly illuminating his equally creepy-in-their-perfection features by the flickering light. He takes two puffs, then holds out the match to get a better look at the room. "Here. Drink this." He pulls out the bottle of mash which Czcibor provided and underhands it towards the woman. "It will put the fight back in you. My comrades are about to make quite the distraction, at which point we are going to depart. Do not leave my side, I will see you to safety. Understood?" And with that, Alonso shakes out the match, and returns the room to shadow.
Duncan tilts an ear as Vorpal relays the information, then stops a second to assess just where the boarded up outer building is in relation to the main one with the propane tanks. "Could be a trap," he offers. His own objective is still the central structure, and he sets off again walking toward it. Hey, he's just some guy in a bulky black coat out for a walk. At night. In the an abandoned summer camp. As the group moves forward towards the still-silent buildings, Poppy seems to consider her current options for a long moment, then slips back to join the group playing kitten poker; perhaps she plans to wait to see what comes next before potentially creating an additional hostage for them to rescue. The woman gives a sniff to the bottle and almost pukes, "God no. Alcohol is the last thing I want right now. I just want out of here and away from here. Wherever this place is." she tells Alonso as she reaches out to grip the wall. Those claws on the tips of her fingers that are partially broken state that she's some kind of Beast. But the blood is old and dried. "They got their toys taken away so they couldn't see to torture me anymore. Thanks whoever did that." she states in a cracked tone. "... could be. Let them protect her. Our jobs are different. Stay alive. Make noise." Vorpal's shadows riot up over his form as he starts towards the main building, spilling forward to coat the main entrance in darkness before cascading into the building and solidifying into pitch, terrifying darkness, leaking out a few feet from the door. It's into that patch of shadows he steps, rattling the razor edge of his fingers against the hedgespun blade of his knife in a discordant rhythm. His voice rings out, loud and singsong and audibly -dripping- with the same unnatural darkness as the umbral shroud cast over the building's interior. "Mur-der-ersssss... come out and plaaaayyayyyyy~ MUR-DER-ERSSSSS! COME OUT AND PLAAAYYYAAAAAYYYYY!" Somewhere from up above Vorpal, is just Ziv's voice - loud enough to be heard at some points around the Shadowsoul's yelling. "Oh. My. God." Dielle pauses in her game play to reach out and pick up a grey floofy kitten and cuddle it. "Sounds like the fun has started," she remarks, as the echoes of Vorpal's voice come to them. The kitten apparently approves of the cuddling, as he starts licking under Dielle's chin. And trying to bat her face with a paw. Ziv, at one point, did in fact head up the side of the building - showing off some incredible agility in doing so. And probably a bit of luck, as she just seems to find the right handholds. That's probably why her voice is up there. Yup. And somewhere in there, Czcibor's ended up with two kittens on him, and he's set his hand down, and he's trying to keep the kittens from fighting in his lap. Literally a second after Dielle says the fun's started, which is maybe two seconds after Vorpal's weird yell, he observes while scruffing one kitten in each hand, "You gotta keep 'em separated." When Vorpal's weird ass voice pierces through the darkness of the outside and into the main building where the group is working there's eight men that come scrambling out with guns drawn and pretty unsettled looks on their faces, "What the fuck is going on here?!" Crewcut, who is the head of this group, calls out to Vorpal. The shadows recede abruptly, leaving the interior of the building still dead dark and the shade-armored Godling standing amidst the Hunters. "Gentlemen, I cannot abide common killers. As God of the Hunt, I hereby revoke your collective claim to the title of Hunter." He turns the dark-clouded mask towards Crewcut and levels the wicked knife in his direction. "Brian, you and yours are forfeit. Pray to whatever other gods will have you, for I. Will. Not." Ziv tries to do something to someone, from where she's looking down from atop the building! It doesn't work. "That might have been me," Alonso tells the woman, "when we were coming in. I am sorry this has happened to you. Our healers will see to your injuries. There will be food, a change of clothes, a bath. A comfortable and well guarded room to sleep in. We simply have to make it past the guards while my comrades distract them." Alonso straightens up when the noise starts up from outside and heads for the front door. "That will be our cue. Are you ready to make a run for it?" Dielle reaches in and pulls out the other kitten, to sit in her lap. For the moment, poker is forgotten as she is overrun with kittens who mostly want to stay warm and are trying to hide in her coat. "Think these two will fit in my pockets?" she asks Czcibor. "I don't think I can give 'em up!" Let's be real, poker is forgotten, because kittens and that's a whole lot of mooks. Czcibor's looking over Dielle's shoulder, frowning. He regretfully dumps the other three kittens on Dielle and tells her, "Yeah, keep whichever ones are your favorites, I'll take the other three. I think--" He literally finishes the bottle of vodka he's been working on. "--I should probably get over there and babysit. There's a lot of squishies and a lot of jerks with guns." Count them. Dielle now has five kittens trying to huddle in her coat. The Elemental stands up and squints. "Should I be air and just heal as needed and possibly also be armor on someone? Or should I look terrifying and get them to shoot at me instead of someone else?" he asks Dielle, watching the brouhaha. Glitch comes meandering in from the woods around the complex towards the front door, slowly wandering into view of the men spilling out the door as Vorpal appears in their midst. He looks up, staring through the pack, hands in his pockets. Looking like he's just here for a wander, a teen in the woods for a smoke. He meets the gaze of one of the men, ducks his head, and leaps out of view. The sketchy young man sails through the air, jacket fluttering in his wake, and lands on his feet on the roof. A hand raises to the sword on his back and draws it... Dielle takes the kittens and says, "Go ahead and be the healer, it's why you came and you're better at it than I am." She starts putting kittens back in the carrier covered by the coat, and draws her gun, crouching behind the metal of the truck bed to start taking whatever aim she can. A flash of lightning, a boom of thunder, and Duncan has crossed the distance to close with the enemy as well, taking their group from the left side. The Elemental has transformed from quiet walking guy into sound and fury, giving a laughing roar as he grabs the nearest mook before he can react. Duncan hoists the man clear off his feet and pivots, putting the guy into the line of fire for his buddies. Human shield it is! Ashe hadn't been in the group. She'd been laying out somewhere dressed in black and just waiting for things to start happening. And when they did she took her first shot. One moment one of the men is standing and the next he crumples to the ground like a marionette with cut strings and the back of his head blown off. And to think, there's no sound except the wind. With the woman's agreement, Alonso makes his move. He kicks open the door, which was on its last legs anyway, draws his revolver, and makes a run for it. Or a jog for it, really, given the disparity in speed between himself and the freed captive. "Keep your head down, make for the outside of the camp. Follow me." He leads them, rather than straight back out again, directly to the edge of the camp, perpendicular of the direction that would lead them towards the fighting. Then he veers them towards the rear, where the snipers and the healers await. "Nearly there, now." Ziv has been waiting quietly, for once, instead of being somewhere chatting or singing or whatever the batling usually does - save for her commentary about when the noise started, otherwise. So it might come up as a surprise when she suddenly drops like a black shadow from the rooftop as an abrupt, strong breeze picks up. Unfortunately she must have aimed incorrectly, because she doesn't properly dig her foot claws into the guy, sliding down past him. He has a pretty nasty gash running along his neck, though. Assuming that Logan was taking his sweet time finding a place to crouch and hide, getting in that perfect aim as he looks through the laser scope of his hunting rifle -- they are here to hunt, aren't they? -- he joins Ashe in blowing the head clean off another of the men. /Unlike/ Ashe, however, who is as silent and invisible as the wind, Logan's gun is not at all silenced. The shot rings out, and it's freaking LOUD. That's a big ol' gun he's got there, after all. His smile widens across his face as he says to himself, "Got 'im." Dielle stays where she is, watching the proceedings as best she can, ready to run to help anyone who needs it and making sure none of the Bad Guys (tm) use her truck to try to escape. Glitch stands on the roof for much of it, silent, watching as the chaos plays out. The prey fall to the hunt with barely any chase. He stares down with his hood up, sword out and dangling at his side. As the men fall left and right, his gaze moves to track one of them making a run for it, attempting to escape. He crouches down before taking a flying leap from the roof. As the man turns and raises his gun, Glitch crashes into his chest sword-first so hard, his feet hit the man's ribs next. There's a sickening sound as the victim falls over onto his back, impaled, with Glitch crouched atop him wound around the sword. There are some things that will take the heart out of a group of asshats, or at least, this is Teagan's hope: watching the head and half the torso come directly off of their leader... with absolutely no evident cause. Silence... and then Brian just sort of... literally... falls apart from the center, and there's blood everywhere, intestines sliding out, the works. The only art that Teagan participates in is painting with arterial spray, after all. Once the two chunks of meat and bone that were once a person thud lifeless or near-enough to the floor, the Mirrorskin appears standing over him, wreathed in fire and wrapped in Summer heat and the crackling of their Mantle's radio calls, over and over, calling and never answered, medic, medic. Their machete rolls in a lazy loop, blood slicking off its rusty edge, and Teagan... smiles. Duncan sidesteps like the wind, using his still-heightened quickness and the close quarters to avoid the fire from one of the Hunters who gets a shot off. Having his buddy in the way probably didn't help his aim either. Seeing the rest of the Lost cutting through the bad guys, the storm elemental gathers himself to finish off the one poor bastard he has a hold of. Sucking in a long, deep breath, Duncan almost seems to expand as glamor flows to boost his strength. And then he slams the struggling Hunter into the decrepit porch of the building, splittering wood and possible some bone as well. The Hunter may not be be dead, but he's not getting up.
Czcibor, who had in fact started to head that way, sort of stopped. And then just... he just wanders back to Dielle and climbs back into the bed of the truck, and waits for the captive to arrive with Alonso, and plays with kittens and starts another bottle of vodka. The Captive has been rescued. The Hunters have been killed and they are all conveniently still close to the building. Once everyone is a good ways away the propane tanks explode. Sending the main building up in flames. Because we can't really have all these dead bodies and equipment sitting around with notes on Changelings sitting around...and it's best to just burn them in a really hot burning fire. The police aren't going to notice for at least a week anyways. | |
