Log:Bodies Like Iron

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Bodies Like Iron

How far to them from where we get through?


Marcus Desrochers, Velvet, Weaver Utridge, and Saulot as ST

12 July, 2018

Weaver has recently been incapacitated, and can't keep in contact with certain hobs as he should. He's gotten a request, and is passing it on to any Changeling that could potentially help. A loose village of hobs known as The Iron Tongues live amid the suburban sprawl. They regularly work in metallurgy and combining their works with what little magicks they know. As of late they've run afoul of some beast that needs taking care of. Part of Perfected Metals.


Riverside Markets, Rainbowside Markets, Alley Escape, Row Houses, Suburban Sprawl

Weaver put out the call that he'd be leaving later into the evening: well after the sun set and most people had long gone to bed. Weaver waited at the gate near the riverside market, still on the mortal side of things. The ogre's dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers already dirty for what was said to be a dirtier trip. While waiting he checks his phone with an occasional glance up.

"You aren't healed yet. What the fuck are you doing out of the house?" The voice with no body is close by, though strangely angled upwards. Velvet is displeased to see that the ogre is out and about, which is probably the real reason that the woman is here. The rest of it? She'll handle it of course. But she's still not happy.

Marcus looks as if he's preparing for a proper hike of some sort, clad in a thin summer jacket half covered in a reflex vest, jeans, cap on his head and a backpack on his back. A sling of curled up ropes attached to the outside of it, a rolled up sleeping bag and that's just on the outside. Held against his shoulder in a sling is a shotgun, could be he's going hunting although behind the mask it's a bit stranger of a device. Walking up towards the Ogre and the disembodied voice, he digs out a package of cigarettes from a pocket and a lighter.

"I'm fine," he notes while nodding to the approaching Marcus. He lifts his hand to the gate, opening the way to the hedge with a thought. "You two also don't know Ulidia, and I want some fucking bramblebee tea. It's been too long since her and I have spoken." Weaver picks up his voice as Marcus nears them and the gate. "We're just gonna see what she and hers need help with. You two are gonna take care of it, and I'll pay whatever's needed."

"A note to send with us would have sufficed. If you wanted to pay you, you could have kept your ass at home where it should be. That's payment enough." The angry wife voice quiets as Marcus approaches, Velvet giving him a quick once over before she sighs. "Fine," she mutters. "Lead the way.

Marcus lights the cigarette, shifting the shotgun with his elbow as he does. "Alright." taking the job in stride. "How far to them from where we get through?" he doesn't linger through, already stepping to go through the gate. For the domestic bickering he seems utterly oblivious or utterly ignoring it. Ain't none of his business.

"It shouldn't be too painful a walk." Mostly for him. Weaver starts walking through the gate, then. "It's through the markets on the other side, row houses, and then to the sprawl. After that it's off the trod for a ways. I know the ways to them, but getting back to the trod'll only be the painful part. The only rule for The Iron Tongues is not to steal. I really, really do not want to piss them off, and they very much could kill me."

The markets themselves mirror the human-side stalls, but this isn't a Market. There's no overwhelming threat of law or rule save one's savageness and willingness to fight God knows howm any hobs. Many there pay more attention to actual customers to oddities worth nil on the other side of the gate beyond trivial novelties. The way to the alleyways is within sight, and with it greater danger due to less light.

There's a snort from Velvet at the mention of him not wanting to piss them off because they could kill them. But Velvet doesn't actually say anything, however, just starting to move to the side of the men. She'll stalk out of reaching distance for now, eyes and nose alert to potential ambush.

There's a nod from Marcus at that, taking a drag from his cig as he follows along the stalls. Giving the odd thing here and there a vaguely intresting look but not lingering, best not to get attention to yourself or they'll start bugging you. "What do they do then? Like what might they need help with?" adjusting his backpack now and then as he walks.

"Don't laugh. At the moment I'm weak enough that they kill me, Vee," Weaver asserts before turning his attention to Marcus. "They build and forge things. Most of it's stuff I'd trade for when I need something made, or trade to gather something else. THey don't really do the market because the place tastes bad." He shrugs, not adding more as they enter the hedge-made alleyway. "Since that's their usual dig, literally too, they usually need help with that. Ulidia needed help moving something is the best I got. If it means moving something away from there, it'll be up to you two to do that. Tall, dark, and sandsome, I can pay whatever it is you wish on the mortal side of things, or see about someone helping you with just about anything needed from market if ain't a human life." As they near alley's exit they can make out Row Houses. Jam-packed buildings that appear as much a buttress against the usual nature of the Hedge as they would housing.

"Well that's why the fuck you're supposed to be at home. I could immitated you well enough." Velvet's head shakes, voice a slight distance away. "Wait, moving something? I thought I was coming to deal with some kind of dangerous monster that's been causing trouble? Wasn't that the rumor that I heard? I packed grenades, not work boots.

"Alright." Marcus doesn't seem to be big on asking questions, his cigarette slowly burning down. He doesn't name a price now, no. You don't do that til you actually know what you -are- doing. The supposed change of plans not getting a comment either.

"It's technically whatever problem she said she needed help with, but I know Ulidia well enough to know that she'll have me try to move something somewhere," Weaver notes as things narrow into the alley. "Worst case it's just whatever I'm initially being called here for. You also can only imitate me for so long and so well. It's not like you can melt things." As they go further along the occasional glowing pair of eyes can be spotted amid the shadows, although nothing comes to attack. "And I'm not staying home. If I somehow die you can yell at my ghost for it."

"You've been on the brink of death twice in about as many weeks." Velvet points it out, thought her tone has lost all emotion to is, which Weaver recognizes as a dangerous sign. "You're acting like a suicidal idiot." All of the eyes gets a quick glance, Velvet seeping in mind each and every location as she continues to move. "I'm not helping some woman move. But I'll gladly kill something if it's needed. Period."

They keep walking and Marcus looks back and forth, back and forth. As they leave the market he shifts the shotgun into his hands and begins to slowly load shells into it as they walk. "Work's work." he says with a shrug.

"I've never claimed to be a genius, and I've been in worse spots." As they leave the row houses and things open up danger becomes more apparent. "I'm also not gonna to let someone close to me rest in possible danger again." The suburbs look as sprawling as they do in the real world, although of the trods the housing becomes as dense as a forest. The further away from the trod they go, the more attention they draw from the hobs in their homes and wandering hedge beasts.

As more hobs appear and the attention is focused more on them, Velvet goes completely quiet. There's not even a noise of disagreement from the woman at this point. No, instead she is starting to switch up her pattern of movement, making sure her position can't really be pegged down, even by scent, to the best of her ability.

His weapon loaded Marcus cradles it where he walks, eyes scanning back and forth still, back and forth. Shifting at times when something or someone comes a bit too close, just to be safe. "What beat you up, anyway?"

"Oh nothing. Just got stabbed a few times. Then shot a few more. Nothing amazing or awful. Just the usual." Weaver points one way, unaware of anything coming behind him as he keeps his gaze forward. A few meters further, and the roar of something loud can be heard in the distance. "Worst case I might get stabbed again," he jests. "I just wish it was something new this time."

Velvet is keeping an eye out for potential ambushes, the location of the hobs that are all watching them, everything. When she hears that roar, her eyes lift, narrowing thoughtfully in that direction. She moves to make sure that she has a pistol in each hand, ready for anything.

"Never fun." Marcus does walk a bit slower than the rest of them, and with a clear limp on one leg. The odd grunt at times as he shifts. As he hears that roar though, he grows tense and settles a hand at the trigger of his shotgun.

"Fun? Fuck no. Last time I asked for fun I almost got my head cut off. Second to last time now that I think about it." The roar echoes again, further ahead and along with a chorus of screams. "That doesn't sound good." It doesn't look good with the smaoke in the air.

"There's two." Velvet offers that information in a clipped tone. "We need to move." She sounds like she's ready to take off running the moment she knows they'll be right there with her. "Robotic, whatever it is."

With a grunt Marcus picks up the pace at that. "Fuck." muttered beneath his breath, sand begins to slide off him in waves and gathered from the soil around him, swirling slowly but then faster. Looking in the general direction of the sound, but following the lead of the folks.

"Yeah. I'm gonna leave this to you, too, while I shake like a tree and leaf." Weaver disappears as a tree stands in his stead while he talks for a few moments longer. "Try not to get hurt out here. Just trust me,' says the man with his own injuries. The first source of the sound becomes apparent as the other two Changelings move along. A rather large feline whose hindlegs are clamped together steel and wiring. Further along is another of its number with a lower jaw consisting of metal, and a speaker seen in its open, roaring maw. The source of the screaming can be traced to a dozen or so now dead hobs, although one is slowly crawling away without the notice of the beasts.

Did Weaver just turn into a tree. "Cheater," Velvet mutters before taking off into a quick spring. "I'll take the left," she tells Marcus before she's off, finding a good angle to shoot from. She lines up a bead on the left flank of the creatures, eyes narrowing. One of the guns lifts, getting off a good couple of shots before she's shifting position again to take a couple more. She's fast, and the gun is even faster, bullets tearing through three of those creatures in about the time it takes to blink.

The bullets chinks off of whatever's inside. The other that was roaring and readying it self against the now sensed threat was moving to attack. It never gets the opportunity to try the slightest thing as its insides are torn apart with a hail of bullets going through it. Another steps into the fray, already loping towards Velvet before it meeds its demise at the end of a gun. The remaining beasts stick close to the groudn despite their presence being known, and pounce on her when an opportunity comes. The first catches air in its jaws, but the other does find purchase at her thigh before dragging what look like razor blades over skin and cloth.

As the chaos of fighting erupts around them Marcus takes cover against a tree, maybe hoping that the beasties will just pass by not seeing them. But soon there's roars, the thunder of guns and he steps back out shotgun in hand. BANG! Violently blue fire bursts from the tube, a biting cold felt from it even yards away as they sear and freeze away both flesh and metal.

Velvet manages to shift out of the way of the first attempt to harm her, but that second one catches her off guard. Velvet clearly isn't used to be being sensed so easily. The noise that ripples out of her is pain and anger as she dashes back a few steps, shifting out of claw range for long enough to shoot a couple more bullets into her attackers. She limps back, trying to keep her distance as the black blood begins to ooze out of her wound.

As things die down they can get a closer look at the beasts and the hobs with little difficulty. The hobs are maybe four feet tall, but that could be a stretch. Their skin is rocky, and cold to the touch despite their deaths only coming a short while ago. Many of them are missing limbs or whole chunks of their body replaced wholesale with prosthetics of glamour-infused metal. In the distance they can still see smoke, and the screaming hasn't yet stopped.

Weaver still remains hidden for the time being, out of sight and out of mind until the melee dies own. When things do quiet down he appears again, clasping his hands together. "Okay. That was fast." Then he gives a look to Marcus and that gun of his. "I also may need one of those from the sound of it, because holy fucking shit." He lets out a chuckle, and then points off to the southwest. "We still got a little ways to go."

Velvet takes a few moments to grab a cloth and wrap it around the gash on her leg. It'll be enough to atleast stop most of the bleeding for now. She'll worry about the rest of it later. She doesn't mention the wound as she moves back towards the others, knowing they can't see it, or her. "I need to reload anyone. This will give me the time. Lead the way."

Marcus pumps the shotgun once, looking around the carnage for a moment with a grimace. "It's a good piece." he agrees to Weaver, before he settles it against his shoulder. "Sounds like it ain't just moving that's the job though."

The path their is clear enough, with nary another of the hedge beasts insight. However, the screaming and shouting persists. The why it becomes obvious soon enough. The house they happen upon isn't too large, but several metallic hallways linking it form something of a large, interconnected home that's currently not fairing too well. The source of the current chaos as the hobs scramble about is a gorilla. Half of its face is metallic, and the same is true for much of its left half. Gas vents from its arm as it currently grinds the head of one of the hobs into a wall, roaring pridefully and loudly.

From its back protrudes something large, but unless the rest of it neither natural nor metallic. An overlarge thorny protrusion about the size of a normal person's arm. From the plant-like thing several flowers grow without any singular color or shape among them. As the beast turns its attentions to a group retreating behind a wheelbarrow one of the flowers shifts to red and another to black as it charges over.

Slowly walking towards the thing Marcus aims the shotgun up and pulls the trigger, again a blast of azure freezing fire shoots out to rage against the creation, freezing, sizzling, burning flesh. Fearless too, just going closer and closer.

"The flowers are controlling it, aim for the flowers!" That comes from Velvet as her own pistol lifts, taking a carefully aimed shot that explodes through the weird arm sized thing coming out of the gorilla's back. She pauses, waiting to see if it still attacks before taking any more shots.

Between buckshot and bullets the flowers are blown to bits that fragment and scatter in the wind. The stem falls flat, inert as the gorilla scratches its ass and looks around for a few seconds. It sniffs at teh air, and then bounds off for something in the hedge. Weaver for his part of it all stayed back as the others took their shoots. He may have also gotten up a tree. Just to make sure everything is safe, of course.

From the village there's still several fires to put out, but the threat of attack is no longer there. "Thank you," one of them shouts as he picks up his destroyed, mechanical arm with the good one on his right. Several more begin to show themselves now, while half a dozen begin putting out fires via dirt and sand.

"All good." Marcus offers, the sand still swarming around him slowly. Resting the shotgun against his shoulder still he walks out to help. "Hey! Get up and help." he commands the .. sand, and it promptly starts doing just that. Shaping itself and going to suffocate the fire, moving from one to the next.

The sand flows and moves as commanded, covering up much of the flames. Although it doesn't help much of the injury, death, and destruction. As things begin to settle down one of the hobs comes to the forefront. She's shorter than the others, and both of her legs clank and stutter as she moves. Older than any present, either changeling or hob, with short grey hair cut close to her scalp. "So, who've I to thank for this, huh?"

Velvet sighs as she looks around. The elf slowly shifts back into view, complete with the cloth wrapped around her leg as she starts to make her way towards the the flowers that had been shot off, collecting the pieces with gloved hands and stuffing them into a bag. That might comein handy later. There isn't a think she can do about the fires, though. She'll leave that to Marcus.

For awhile Marcus focuses on the sand but eventually it starts doing the work itself. Sucking on his teeth in thought, he looks around before settling on the old hob. Raising a hand in greeting. "Hey. Was told to come and help." plain and direct.

Weaver steps in behind Marcus, pointing to him and then to wherever Velvet might be. "These two, technically, Ulidia." The hob comes a bit closer, scratching at her shin while looking between the two she can see. Then she closes her eyes, and turns her face in Velvet's direction. "Thank you," she says while bowing at the waist for a beat. "From myself and The Iron Tongues, and welcome to our home. I would offer bramblebeer and blushberry biscuits, but the two-legger with the tails got to it all before it left." She then points to one of the houses a bit further off. "Come with me, please."

There's a bit of a look from Marcus, but he just shrugs eventually and settles the shotgun back over his shoulder by the sling as he follows the old hob inside.

Velvet glances to Weaver for a moment, her eyes narrowing. But she doesn't say anything. Her head inclines towards the woman that bows. "Pleasure," she rumbles. "I will leave these two in your capable hands, ma'am. I'm going to do a little patrol to make sure there are no more of those creatures around, and gather what pieces of hardware and meat I can from them. I have two growing hedgebeasts at home who are always terribly hungry. If you'll excuse me."

Ulidia bows her head again. "Of course." Weaver then bows his head before following. TO Marcus he says, "We can discuss payment later if you'd prefer." To Velvet he says, "Please stay, Vee. If nothing else an extra pair of eyes might save more lives if things come go to shit." Then he reaches for her hand for just a moment, and departs after Ulidia. "You don't mind if I take some of the brew home with me? It might help with a few other problems..."