Difference between revisions of "Log:Blood On The Leaves:The Speakeasy Incident"

2017.11.14

A group of Harvestmen get a tip and go to see what's going on. Part of the Blood On The Leaves plot.

Outside the Speakeasy

A concerned citizen had given a tip that there were a few young people that were giving some of the local Changelings coming out of the Speakeasy a hard time. So it's no surprise that the Harvestmen have been called in to do some investigating and to shove a boot up someones ass if needed. At the moment the working crowd is starting to filter out for the night.

Unsurprisingly, one of the first volunteers is Vorpal. His presence, though, has the unfortunate habit of completely disrupting any normal social functions around him. So, rather than allow his presence to be seen, he's opted to invoke one of his favorite tricks- the contract of Smoke's ultimate clause, hiding him from view entirely and keeping him from derailing the evening in the Speakeasy or driving off those who might otherwise expose themselves for the prejudiced bullies they are. Still, he knows Dielle's concerns about her personal combat proficiency, and stays near her. In case his Lieutenant gets in over her head. It also means nobody can see him toying with a length of Stabapple thorn, long as his forearm and hard as bone.

Dielle is right there, because this means HER PEOPLE are getting given shit. Also, she's in the mood to bust a few heads and possibly take a few punches and see what's happening. It doesn't mean diplomacy won't be given a shot first, but seriously? Drunk people suck, it's why she stopped being a bartender/bouncer.

Kowal also volunteered, more for the opportunity to watch the others in action -- and to tank any aggro the group might draw -- than to do any ass-kicking. Well, that and taking care of any damage his compatriots might suffer should he fail to meatshield in time, if it even comes to that. As such, he hasn't bothered to strengthen his mask, and he's pretty obviously wearing a chainmail hauberk under his admittedly preppy blazer and over his ratty jeans and Mumford & Sons t-shirt. He has a mildly amused expression on his dark oxidized face. He's apparently unarmed, and leans to say cheerfully quietly to Dielle, "I can try to get in first?"

There's a motorcycle that makes a pass by, not a strange thing given that it's someone wearing a jacket with a patch on it. The visor on the helmet is down. The last group of humans come out with a pair of Changelings tailing behind. One is a tall fairest with short cut blonde hair that looks like they've been in a gym every day of their life. The other is a petite looking Darkling with black hair and paperwhite skin and bright eyes. They head for the parking lot.

And everyone sees the two men that slip from the shadows and start to follow them. They aren't dressed like they'd expect some militants to be. But they are definitely tracking after the Changeling couple that is heading for their car.

Vorpal and Czcibor can also notice that there is a black van not too far down the street. Just sitting idly. Not a good sign.

Vorpal pauses in his invisible vigil as he spots the van- and the lurking men. He spends a brief moment murmuring under his breath to Czcibor, and presses a wooden box into one of his hands. Another moment's whispered instructions, and he heads down towards the van to take a look while the other more visible Harvestmen investigate- and protect- the changeling couple. He'd rather be over there- he has a soft spot for pretty young Darklings, thank you Ambrosia- but someone needs to have eyes on the van and its occupants.

Czcibor holds up a hand, low, in front of himself and Dielle after whispering with nothing, and then getting a wooden box in one hand out of nowhere. He whispers to Dielle, "There's an unmarked black van over there in the shadows. Vorpal's going to babysit them and ghost-ride if necessary. This is a box that will scream like a Harry Potter Howler in the ears of anyone who can see miens, if we need a distraction or to flush anyone out. I can turn into air if you want me to sneak, or I can draw a lot of attention and get those two focused on me instead of the couple. What's your call?"

Dielle is watching intently and is showing off as slightly irritated. She looks from Vorpal to Kowal and says, "Let me be the one to take the attention. Y'all are both better fighters than me, even if I used to be a bouncer. Kowal, I want you to follow those two guys followin' our folk. I'm gonna go be annoying." She looks at each of them again, and then nods. "Let's go." And then she stands up and starts acting like a person who's drunk would. Like she's exaggeratedly trying to be sober. She starts heading towards the couple in question.

Dielle is watching intently and is showing off as slightly irritated. She looks from Vorpal to Kowal and says, "Let me be the one to take the attention. Y'all are both better fighters than me, even if I used to be a bouncer. Kowal, I want you to follow those two guys followin' our folk. I'm gonna go be annoying." She looks at each of them again, and then nods. "Let's go." And then she stands up and starts acting like a person who's drunk would. Like she's exaggeratedly trying to be sober. She starts heading towards the couple in question. (repose)

The two men following the pair of Changelings are so focused that they don't see Dielle and Czcibor behind them. "Where are you two heading? Mind giving us a ride?" one of the men asks them.

Meanwhile, Vorpal is getting sneaky and up close to the van. But so far no one has noticed him. Not yet at least.

Vorpal would, in truth, be spectacularly embarassed if he was noticed while wandering around invisible. He's taking precautions to not do dumb things like step on bottles or kick cans as he approaches the van, with every intention of spying through the windows if they're not tinted- and of simply stepping through the back doors of the van if they ARE tinted. Who's gonna know~? In preparation, he invokes a simple clause of Separation- best not to weigh down the van if he steps inside.

Kowal chews on the inside of his cheek for a second, then sighs almost inaudibly and pulls a couple of coils of piano wire out of his back pocket, and there's the scent of gunmetal and roses in the air as his glamour rises to awaken his control of metal. He holds them both in the one hand, since the other's got the howlerbox in it, and he meanders into a lazy path of following the two mooks. His paranoia's still telling him that the person on the motorcycle might be a problem, but if they're walking their bike back from where the sound dopplered off to, they'll be a bit getting back.

Dielle is keeping an eye out for the motorbike, as well as actively looking for anything on the street that might turn into a weapon, including possibly tearing a branch off a tree. She's trying to do it slyly, however, since she's also walking in that exaggerated way that lists occasionally but mostly tries to stay straight. "HEY!" she says to the couple that she doesn't know but who are obviously the chosen victims for the night. "I didn't expect to see you two here! Becky said y'all was stayin' home! How the hell are you two, it's been for-friggin-ever!" She wobbles over to the pair, and seemingly ignores the mooks. "God, we have to go out for New Year's Eve, remember the last one? When I got smashed off my ass and kissed that gorilla?" She's loud about it, too.

When Dielle starts talking loudly that draws the attention of both men. One has glasses on and when he turns there's a bit of a look over Czcibor and Dielle both and a bit of a look to his body. He then puts his glasses on as well. "The fuck are you on about?" he asks.

The Changeling couple look CLUELESS. So clueless. But they can see something is wrong. "Oh yeah, we're just...out..you know?" she states with a worried chuckle as she looks up to her boyfriend.

Well, they turned and saw him. So that's one thing. He looks human enough, if like a nerdy fuckin' half-assed cosplayer, but human enough. His voice is also pleasant and apologetic. "Hey, you guys mind giving her a ride home? We were on a pubcrawl and we were gonna go in," he says, and there's no denying the Polish accent, even if his English is colloquial, "but you know how cheap a drunk she is, they're not gonna let her in like this. I'll just wait for the bus." Then his attention slides to the two men in glasses, and his eyebrows go up. "Why are you being so rude? We don't know you. She's drunk."

Vorpal continues his sneaky reconnaissance, peering into the driver's window, the passenger's window, and the windows at the rear of the van. Invisibility, man. SUCH a useful tool. However... everyone's way over there. And there's such lovely, organized folk right here, folks he wants to keep where they are. So... while they're still patiently waiting in their van, presumably for their friends to come back around with the boot pary guests of honor... Vorpal spends a few moments at the front and back of the van, invoking some temporal clauses to ensure the van goes exactly nowhere.

Dielle goes over to the couple and says, "Guy wasn't a /bad/ kisser. Just his breath totally smelled like bananas." She's acting like she's completely oblivious to the mook who's trying to give her a hard time. "I think he mighta been a /married/ gorilla. Who else has banana breath on New Year's Eve? OH! Have you heard from Candace, lately? Or Steve? They've totally been asking after you, they want to do a group club run. Between you and me, I think what they really want is to go on a date, but they can't manage it without people around or they might have to stop pretending they don't like each other. Don't you think so? OH! Hang on, I gotta show you something I just got, but I don't wanna do it in front of strangers." She whispers VERY LOUDLY, "I don't want to get arrested for it."

The guys are totally flummoxed by the arrival of Dielle and her...human counterpart? "You should take the crazy bint home and get her out of public." the guy sneers before taking off his glasses and proceeding to head off. It was too much work with two more people showing up. The other guy follows after him as well. Because you can tell who the boss is at least.

Meanwhile, the two Changelings at the car just motion Dielle and Czcibor closer when Dielle states she wants to show them something. They were not sure what was going on. But damned if they weren't curious now.

"Cover your ears," Czcibor tells Dielle and the two other changelings conversationally, pleasantly, as he comes close enough to say it quietly. "This is going to be very loud. Then the two of you should get in your car and go home, unless you want to watch a show." He glances at Dielle, then turns to look at the two guys who're leaving--

--and he stops strengthening his mask, and he opens the box.

SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

The lead man has taken his glasses off, but boy, when that load skree goes off, it is something crazy. The one man still wearing his glasses reaches to cover his ears and gives a swift look back to Dielle and the others. Then he does a double take at Czcibor.

The couple? They jet. They whisper a thank you to Dielle and Czcibor and then they are backing out of the parking lot.

Ahhh, the dulcet tones of a Siren's tongue being ripped out from the root. That's a sound Vorpal recognizes, and when a radio triggers in the van shortly thereafter? WELL! He wants to be a part of this conversation! Or at least an eavesdropper. It's the easiest thing, to step through the rear door of the van and crouch just inside, listening in on whatever this conversation happens to be. It's not like the van is going to go anywhere- and if those punks are coming back HERE, he intends to be here when they do.

Dielle clapped her hands to her ears just in time. She turns back towards the mooks as the couple drives away. She smiles, then lowers her hands slowly, because the couple that needs to be safe, is. She puts one hand inside her jacket. Because seriously? Fuck these guys. She does try to keep an ear out for the motorcycle, over the sound of SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. "Anyone wanna dance?"

Once the jig is up and the prey is gone things take a turn for the worse. The two turn towards Dielle and Czcibor in the parking lot and there's a bit of a look to them, "We'll just have to make sure you'll work for the boss." the lead states. The sidekick is radioing in that they've got trouble to the van.

Meanwhile, the sound of the radio in the van is being drown out as the driver is popping the door open. Only to get hear the roar of a motorcycle engine gun and there's the crack of something sharp on bone. The door stands open. Leaving Vorpal with four people now.

And Czcibor shuts the box and stuffs it in his jacket pocket, metal teeth gleaming brightly in his dark face as he grins, dropping the two coils of piano wire to the pavement at his feet, where they bounce once and then sit there a couple of inanimate objects. Which they are. "Congratulations. You've been had by Fate's Espionage Squad. Would, as the lady says, you like to dance? Or would you like to talk this over like civilized people? It is your choice, and this is your warning. I'm the nice one, by the way."

Dielle smiles in a way that proves, yes, Kowal is the nice one. Because she's clearly hoping she's gonna get to hurt someone. She finds one and locks eyes with him, and lets a little of the crazy come through. Just a little. Too much comes through and she won't get to pull her gun.

The duo was ready to fight, but when they realize the Changelings aren't going to rip them apart, but want to talk there's a bit of a sigh and they take a few steps back. "Talk." the lead spits out.

CRACK. That's the sound of the passenger's forehead bouncing off the dashboard. And then Vorpal is calmly in view, back to the door leading out of the van. Nobody's got glasses, so he LOOKS pretty damn normal... but he doesn't FEEL normal, because this fucker radiates a Sublime sense of divinity. Of cold, violent divinity. "Gentlemen," he leads. "We're going to have us a little talk. Try to leave, and you're going to end up like your friend in the passenger seat. Or worse. -Now sit back. Relax. And wait for my friends to come ask you some very important questions, which you're going to answer honestly. Right?"

A glance at Dielle, and then Czcibor gestures toward the van congenially. "Why don't we talk where your friends can hear us, too? We'd like to know why you've been hassling people like us. It'd also be great if you told us who killed Ms. Tennyson. Sloppy work if so, I have to say," he adds, somewhat chidingly, and he starts walking toward the van. Walking with a limp, it can be noted. What's probably not notable is that once they're all on their way, the little coils of piano wire start wobblingly rolling after them, sneaky-like.

Dielle is following, nodding at Czcibor approvingly, and keeping her hand on the gun. She waits until she's at the van before drawing it, though. She doesn't point it at anyone. Yet. "And how you can see us would be a good one to answer. Also, who are you working for and why are they looking for us?

The Biker has picked the driver up in a fireman's carry and hauled him to the back of the van. One hand opens the door and the unconscious man gets dumped unceremoniously inside. The helmet doesn't come off. There is a wave to everyone before the door closes though.

And the men don't talk until they get back to the van. "Alright. We're Hunters. We don't work with anyone else but this group right here." the leader states. "We can see you guys because we got these fancy glasses." he hands them to Dielle. "Some sorta occultish bullshit." he grumbles. "And someone did get sloppy. Yes." he looks pointedly at one of the men in the back. Ah, so it was one of them. "See, the Hunters up in Fort Brunsett don't hunt ya'll. So we were gonna settle in down here." he tells them. "Seems like that's not going to be the best idea." he muses.

The interior of the van, and -just- the interior of the van, starts to lose its light when Vorpal speaks up. He's sitting idly now, in one of the empty spots next to the poor fuck who got sloppy as the darkness grows- not impenetrable, mind you, but significant- and Vorpal's flesh starts to bleed away as his Mask dissolves. These guys aren't wearing the glasses right now, and it doesn't matter. They all see him. The mottled shadows over his form, the way his flesh flees the light and exposes the razors that form his hands, the way his scars and smile... just... remain, stark, front and center. "I see. Well, gentlemen. You're in luck. For you're not the only hunter present. The Hunt is my purview. It is a consummate devotion to which most of my not insignificant talents are dedicated. You hunt the things that go Bump in the Night. So do I. The difference, gentlemen, is that I understand that those like her, like him," Vorpal indicates with a hand full of razors, gesturing towards Dielle and Czcibor. "Are not viruses, not a plague- they are -white blood cells.- We guard you and yours against those things that would make more of you into us- if they gave you back at all. So. This leaves us at the conclusion you just reached. Killing your own immune system, friend, is not. The best. Idea. I approve of what you're trying to do. But you are misguided. Find the beasts in the dark that threaten you and yours. Slay them. Make the world a better place. But should you turn your weapons on what is -meant- to -protect- you again... that R at the end of your title is going to become a D. Very. Very quickly. And no offense, gentlemen- but I am FAR better at Hunting than you. So stick to the -real- monsters. And leave policing those like us? To -us.-"

Everyone's face turns white and there's a chance that someone might have pissed himself. Because let's face it, Vorpal's fucking scary. There's a look between themselves and the leader shakes his head, "Just let us get our stuff and we'll leave the town." he states. And he's not lying. Apparently if they were not in the van he'd be driving right now.

There's a brief, perfectly reasonable nod in the glittering knife-shadow man's direction, and the tin soldier crosses his arms loosely. "In other words, don't you think there's a reason the Hunters in Fort Brunsett don't come after us?" Kowal asks, in the kind and patient way an elementary school teacher might ask a student that they very much want to start thinking for themself. "Have you asked them why not?"

He crouches down to pick up the coils of piano wire that've rolled to his feet, and he pockets them. "It's as our friend says: you might consider the fact that we were born as human as you are, and remained so until we were stolen by monsters -- and now we're pretty much all that stands in the way of those selfsame monsters stealing more human beings. Stealing children. Stealing the best and the brightest. The old stories are true, gentlemen-- but we are not the monsters of those stories. We're simply the best equipped to kill Them-- and stand in between Them and you."

His arms drop, and he holds out a hand. "Give us your other glasses. All of them. If we were the monsters from the old tales, we'd put out your eyes for daring to look past our glamours-- but we're not. So give them here, and then tell me truly that you have no more. And as for the one of you that killed Ms. Tennyson, that's murder. She was a person. She had a husband who mourns her. She had a community. The law enforcement agencies are perfectly capable of seeing actual justice done."

Dielle uses her non-gun hand to facepalm and sigh. "Oh, Jesus God. Boys, I'm taking over. I'd like you both to remember who's in charge right now." Her tone is that version of Southern sweetness that has steel behind it. If she starts blessing hearts, there's gonna be gunfire next, and it might not be the Hunters that she's shooting at. She doesn't facepalm for long, she doesn't want to obscure her vision "We're gonna pow-wow. Who's empowered to speak for your group?" The steel is still there. She's not nearly as scary as the guys, and she knows it. It bothers her not in the slightest.

Glasses are handed over and things of that nature, because screw it. "I'm the head of the group." the one that called Dielle a Bint raises his hand to that. "We aren't going anywhere. Not yet." he shakes his head.

"Of course, ma'am," responds Vorpal, as his Mask ABRUPTLY rolls back into place. Calm, respectful- the lights even come back on! Nifty, that. He leans back against the wall of the van, letting Dielle take full control on the spot.

"Yes, ma'am," Kowal says, mildly sheepish, and then steps back and pockets the glasses, definitely shutting up thereafter.

Dielle says, simply, "No, you're not. But you're going to stop hunting us. I'll give you a way to get in touch with me, and you'll give me a way to communicate with you. We're going to negotiate. If you renege, if you hunt /us/, I'm going to make sure you regret it for the rest of your short lives. Leave us alone and we might even help you. But first, I need to know if you killed Ms. Tennyson."

"I killed Anne Marie." states one of the men in the back. "We were going to get you guys all riled up and use it as an excuse for you to go after the Hunters in Fort Brunsett." he states. "A false trail." he adds.

Dielle looks at the guy. "Right. You get to come with us. Recruit, tie him up." She looks at Czcibor as she says that. She looks at the rest of them. "Is he part of your group?"

"I will let you know that there's explosives in the van so if you plan on killing us tonight there'll be a nice explosion that will take a few of you with us as well. I've not flipped switches because I thought talking would be nice. You can take Dave if you like. The rest of my men aren't going anywhere." Crewcut states. He sounds like they've probably killed other people. They probably have.

"You shouldn't have done that, Dave. He just threw you under the bus," Czcibor says regretfully, handing the box back to Vorpal and pulling the piano wire out again. This is going to be awful. He can already tell. And he definitely disapproves-- but he is also most certainly not in charge. So he does, for now, as he's told.

Dielle looks at Crewcut, and smiles a pretty, ladylike smile. "We'll be in touch. And when we are, you'll answer my questions because I'm asking nicely. If I stop asking nicely...well, that's when it goes bad." She does take the glasses because fuck those guys. Seriously. She exits out the van, following Kowal and Dave, and at the last moment, nudges Vorpal. She doesn't want to use his name, so he just gets a head gesture. At no time does she put the gun down.

Vorpal tucks the box away and smiles at the other Hunters. It's not pleasant, not now that they've seen his Mien. His grin screams of the disembodied smile of that terrible, Wyrd Hunter. "It's been a pleasure, gentlemen. Keep up the -good- work. And stay very, very far away from the -bad.-" He climbs out of the van and rests his hands on its doors, leaving off with, "You -really- wouldn't like -her- when she's angry." Then he closes the doors and waltzes off after Dielle, Dave and the Captain. And also Zelda, who is apparently a wicked-nasty biker who he'll have to meet sometime!