Steel Shadow
04-26-2013, 04:14 PM
Some scenes copied across from the edupad set between games:
When EV gets home with her new phone she strips and goes directly for her bed, where she sleeps for an entire day (Or at least until waking up early the next afternoon). She showers, dresses, and calls her aunt.
"Hey Aunt Helen. You saw the news right? Yea. Can you please call them when we're done chatting and place a generous offer on the pile of rubble? You know, upstanding member of the community looking to help and all. Rachel wants the place, its ... special. And we want to build a club house there. Her dad's probably willing to pay for it or most of it or whatever, but just to make sure that its purchased, we can iron out the details later?"
"You want a pile of rubble as a gift for the daughter of the local White Council Representative? ... Dear, I realise they're a destructive lot, but I don't think they want their buildings pre-blown up..."
"Um. We blew up the building. So it'd be cheaper to purchase the location."
"... She's getting started on her career quite early, isn't she? Oh very well, I'll look into it. You can tell me the details when you visit for tea over the weekend, hmm?"
"I could come over tomorrow afternoon?" "Wonderful! I'll have Gregory prepare somethng special."
She then heads off to work. To get paid for getting a proper meal. She texts the important parts of what her aunt said to James to get to Rachel.
After a late work night she heads home for some early sleep, so she can get up early and go shopping for shoes for her aunt and head over for tea. Where she tells her aunt about the entire adventure in detail. ("You tried to seduce a building? Dear, really now..." "I thought it might have been lonely! The poor thing!")
---
Sometime after escaping from DREAD HOUSE, HOUSE OF DREAD (It's technically a hotel...) (it's technically a pile of rubble, it just doesn't know it yet >>), an ad appears in the Yellow pages:
James Spade: Private Investigator
Have problems with cheating spouses, missing persons, fae, undead, evil wizards, or sentient buildings*? I deal with all of it, professionally and efficiently.
555-555-5555
*James Spade can not be held responsible for property damage resulting from armies of undead, rampaging wizards, demons, ghosts, other mythological creatures, other magical creatures, gangsters, any other hazards of the case, or his own attempts to protect himself from them. Clients take all responsibility for such damages.
Shortly after seeing the posting, EV hands the number off to some people at her work, telling them the number is a help line for various odd (and fake) problems. Prank calls ensue.
---
Adventures in Parkour!
Riley's been working on finding a way to save gas and run to some basic destinations instead, enjoying the work out she's getting. Unfortunately, it's really hard to do jumps and flips with groceries. People don't generally appreciate spilled milk when it's all over their clothes.
She's gotten good enough to avoid getting hit by cars! This is a fantastic upgrade as it was very difficult to explain to the officer that no, she's alright, really. She doesn't need to go to the hospital.
---
After the aftermath;
Rachel also gives Mister Cairo (Aka Egpyt) a call, although because phones are somewhat dangerous for her and she risks destroying a cell phone tower, she heads home, bandages herself up, and resorts to astroprojecting to his office. He's not terribly difficult to find, after all, and offices don't have thresholds to worry about.
"Mister Cairo? It's Miss Holtzmann, I'm calling to inform you of our success with the Riverside Hotel case. Um, it sort of got pretty interesting, really. Seeing as your stance on the uh, 'Superweapons' issue, and if, hypothetically we were to run across a powerful genius loci in the Riverside Hotel that was bound to a psychopathic warlock who tried to murder us using its considerable power, if you'd be interested in helping me, uh... Take care of it? I mean, I'd rather not have another Steven Rayle moving in after last night."
Post Hospital Scene with Jim: The next day, just before visiting hours.
"Just relax, the horse knows what it's doing." Sam leaned over to pat the neck of Mars, the white 'destrier' that Riley was riding. She didn't look reassured. That was probably due to the dress of deep emerald cloth she was wearing - a tight-laced ensemble - if she fell she'd need Sam's help to remount.
"Yes, but I don't know what the horse is doing." The ever-frightened vampire clung to the horn of the saddle awkwardly. She'd never been on a horse before, and she certainly wasn't comfortable knowing she couldn't run easily in this getup.
He himself was dressed in a white-and-blue knights surcoat, padded in a way that emphasized his broad frame. He held the reins of both horses expertly, a sheathed 'sword' hanging from the saddlebow of his charger. "Once we get going, just hang on. Mars has done this hundreds of times, and he knows he gets treats if you don't fall." Sam smiled as the horse's ears swivelled back at the word 'treats'.
The two of them were mounted just out of sight of the Holtzmann's driveway. The horses were giant, matching hulks of muscle and ornamental barding - bright blue and gold draped from each saddle. They were on loan to Sam from Kent Memorial Park's "Medieval Times" show, and he was under the strictest orders to come back with every bell and braid accounted for.
"Now to set up the entrance..." He muttered under his breath, whispering Rachel's Name as he had heard it in the forest of Faerie. It might get her attention, and that's the kind of boost needed for his grand display to work. He repeated it again to ensure she was listening, then tapped Ares' side with his heel. "Here we go!"
Riley's look of mild fear turned to horror as the creature underneath her immediately bolted into a gallop. A hiss of "shit" could be heard between her teeth as she held on for her dear life.
The horses surged foward as the pair of them charged up the drive toward the front entryway. As they approached, Sam used his best show voice, projecting clearly enough that the entire street could hear. "Rachel Holtzmann!" He deliberately avoided pronouncing what had once been her True Name, but he -did- want there to be no mistake who he was addressing. "Rachel Holtzmann! Come quickly!"
Having been grounded for the week, Rachel wasn't exactly in the best of moods, but her new babysitter-slash-friend had proven to be fairly entertaining company, at least considerably moreso than her dear father. Indeed, it was nice to have a wizard who was more human to speak to at times. In the middle of showing Iri her latest enchanted artifact contraption (It's a falcon engine, you know! - "... A Falcon engine?" The warden was experiencing an entirely new mix of feelings, somewhere between stark amazement at the young girl's accomplishments, and horror at the experiments she was attempting unsupervised.
Though she didn't know it, the feeling was not unlike the one encountered by parents when their 12 year old son informs them that they have built a working nuclear reactor in the basement. - ) she felt a strange, familiar tug on her soul. Her true name had changed since that day, but she wouldn't forget what a Fae's voice felt like.
"Rrr..." Rachel hissed under her breath, darting for the window, and peered out to see-... Sam? With Riley, apparrently, and riding barded steeds. "Oh dear. It's more serious than I believed." Reaching reflexively across the table, her hand passes over the golden handle of another project and hovers for a moment, "Mmm, no... You're not ready yet." Then passes over it to seize her familiar optical sapphire rod. "C'mon Iri! Let's meet my friends!"
"What?" The warden blinked, shaking off the mounting feeling of horror, and walked over to the window to see what was causing all the commotion. "... Rachel, what- Where did she go?"
Rachel bounds downstairs, energized with a newfound sense of adventure as she pops the front door open and walks outside, holding her hands out in the universal sign language for 'what the hell?'. "Uh, Sam? What... What's going on?"
Upstairs, Iri skidded out of the door and dashed for the stairs. How the hell did that child have such a turn of speed?
Pulling up to the front door, Ares prances artfully in place while Sam places a hand over his heart. His eyes sparked with mirth. "Wizard Rachel! You must come with us!"
"The city needs you!" Reaching down with his free hand, he hauls the mini-wizard into the saddle in front of him. No longer projecting his voice to the city at large, he whispers to the two women. "Hold tight, now."
Keeping one arm securely around Rachel, he draws the 'sword' from its scabbard and holds it aloft. At the signal, both horses reared, whinnying as they turned in place to face back down the drive. Their shod hooves made a delightful clatter as they raced onward to freedom.
Riley was still holding on tightly, but with the rearing she leaned forward and practically hugged the horse's neck in a panic. Another hiss from her teeth later and she recovered her act, riding alongside the other two in a not-quite graceful manner.
Vampires are not always perfect, as Anne Rice would lead you to believe.
"SorryIrigottagodutycalls!" Rachel shouted back houseward as Sam dramatically whisked her off into the sunset. She'd never really ridden a horse before, but between the saddle and the changeling's arm, she had little trouble keeping her balance.
The warden-turned-babysitter burst out of the front doors just in time to see Sam's horses disappearing around the corner at the end of the drive, galloping hooves racing away. "Hey!"
Iri was not a novice. As a trained and somewhat professional Warden, she'd seen her fair share of action, and she wasn't about to be left gaping at her escaping charge, no matter how ridiculous said escape was. Still, she couldn't quite stop herself from whispering "What the fuck..."
Then she was moving, darting back inside the house and grabbing the rolled up bundle she'd left just inside the door the day before...
Sam sheathed the sword once they were out of sight of the house, loosening his hold on Rachel once the weapon was safely away. The horses galloped on for a time, sweating under the heavy barding - not to mention poor Ares carrying double. His truck with its attached horse trailer wasn't too much farther, but...
Feeling a measure of pity for them, the changeling slowed the laboring horses to a walk before swinging himself out of the saddle. Taking long strides between the wall of white horseflesh, Sam peered up at the miniature maiden. "Who were you talking to back there, Rachel?"
While Sam and Rachel chatted, Riley enjoyed the slower pace and smoothed out her dress. She pats Mars on the neck. "Tell no one about this." She had handed Sam back the reins a few moments ago and felt safer with him in control.
Rachel waits for Sam to fully dismount before sliding over the saddle herself and daintily hopping to the ground, sparing Ares the awkwardness of attempting to dismount at the same time. She dusts herself off with no hurry, and then looks up, "Oh, that? Well, my Dad's out with some other wardens protecting Europe from vampires or something, so he left one of them here to watch me. Her name's Iri, she's pretty cool."
An unreadable expression crosses Sam's face at the word. "Wardens." He looks across at Rachel, who characteristically looks unconcerned at the idea. "Watching you?" A momentary silence decends as he thinks, wondering what to do with this development. Jim and Seph should be safe enough, but he and Riley - especially Riley - would find no solace in the White Council's sight.
She peers into the distance back the way they came, and shrugs, "I'm sure she'll catch up or something. I was gonna show her the old Riverside, but then you guys showed up. Hi Riley!" Rachel waves, "So... What's up?"
Riley dismounts in the way you would expect-clumsily even with assistance, and offers a wave back to Rachel. "Hey Rach." Dusting herself off, she headed for the front of the trailer. Opening the door she hops into the driver's seat and remembers that Sam has the keys. Still, better in a seat than on a horse.
He closed his eyes, and when they opened again they were filled with that same golden mirth he displayed in the driveway. "Ah. We're going to see Jim at the hospital." He unlocked the padlock on the back of the horse trailer with one hand, the other firmly grasping two sets of reins. "Riley, there's two bags of treats-" Two pairs of ears swivelled forward at the word, "- on the passenger seat, if you'll get that for me."
The vampire happily complies, snatching the bag from its resting place and rounding the corner to toss Sam the bag. "Keys Please!" Knowing they were in a hurry, she opened her palm for the other half of the trade so she could get the truck started.
Tossing Riley the keys and feeling uncomfortably exposed on the still city street, Sam hurried to sequester the horses - there was no chance the Warden Watchdog was going to dally about finding her charge, and Sam wanted the animals out of any line of fire.
"Uh, something wrong, Sam?" Rachel looked confused at the taller man's concern for a bit, before it dawned on her, "Oooh, right. Um, I guess I could-" She peers at the truck as corners the back, hopping over the trailer tounge to find the passenger door, "On second thought, that's probably a bad idea. So is Jim still hurt?" Veiling the truck might, well, break it. Sure, they'd be invisible, but they wouldn't be getting anywhere. She hops in and buckles herself up. With any luck, Riley was a better driver than Jim was.
The engine roars to life with Riley in the driver's seat! She probably isn't as insane of a driver as Jim is, but who knows? "Guess so, I haven't seen him yet."
"His burns are still pretty severe." The changeling finished stowing the horses' barding, though he kept on the knight's surcoat. It wasn't any additional protection, but the figure he cut in it was spectacular.
A dull roar began to fill the street...
Sam jumps into the bed of the truck, thumping the roof of the cab twice in the international signal for "step on it". His maul rested comfortingly in his lap as he watched their retreat.
Riley needed no other encouragement, accellerating at a controlled pace to as fast as she could manage. She gives Rachel a glance and, seemingly satisfied, concentrates on getting them out of there as quickly as possible. "I don't suppose the horses are going to bust me for speeding."
As Riley began to pull away, a motorbike turned onto the street. Well, skidded, you can't really 'turn' at the speed that thing was going at. Its rider was a young looking woman with long brown hair tied back in a pony tail, wearing a somewhat hastily donned leather jacket, dark shades, and a rather unhappy looking frown. At some point she'd strapped the long thin bundle she'd grabbed from the house across her back.
She was gaining.
Rachel winced as Sam mentioned Jim's burns still being severe, then idly peered at the passenger side mirror, "Um... Riley? Uh. Look behind us?" Rachel pointed with a tone that was somewhat between childish fear (Of being say, grounded again) and disbelief. "That's bad, isn't it?"
Riley glances at the rearview mirror. "Yup, that's bad, kid. Your babysitter?" She didn't wait for a reply and tapped the nearby GPS (we have those, right?) to reroute their path. A neutral robotic voice piped up, "Turn right in half a mile." The vampiress shoots a glare at the machine. Yelling into the truckbed, Riley pushes down on the gas pedal a little more than she probably should, "Got any ideas before I make a damn turn at this speed?"
"Yeah, that's her. I guess that's either her staff or sword on her back, 'cause I didn't see either of them yet." Rachel replied, pulling her seatbelt taut and leaning back agaisnt the seat.
Sam opens the back window, poking his head inside out of the wind. "Can you hex the bike without killing her or my truck?"
"Um, I donno... It'll break her bike, and she might spin out... I kinda don't wanna make her mad, you know?" Rachel cringed defensively, "I mean, I'm in enough trouble as it is..."
"Right turn in a quarter mile."
Sam sighs. "Alright, alright."
"Riley, make the turn, but be gentle if you can." He withdraws from the window, crossing the moving bed of the truck with ease. White surcoat blowing in the breeze, the fae strikes a pose with one foot planted on the tailgate, the rising sun settling on his shoulders like a halo.
He set himself for a moment, reaching within to that nest of wildness and growth that now made up part of his soul. He bent it to his will - and the asphalt just behind the horse trailer cracked and buckled, tall, thick green strands of vines escaping quickly upwards from their prison toward that life-giving sun.
The new life formed only the thinnest of walls between them and their pursuer - but Sam hoped it would keep them out of sight long enough to make the turn - maybe even force her to take a new route.
The wall of vines shrouded the road, and separated the group's view of the closing warden for a moment - but only for a moment. Then it shredded apart in a blast of air, leaving a few weakly waving vines and a large crack in the pavement as the biker sped through the gap and zipped after the trailer towing truck as it made the turn.
There was an odd screech as the bike suddenly began to slow, skidding to a halt - coupled with the rider suddenly mounting the thing to stand upright and leaping...
The momentum carried it a lot farther than it should have - a spell? - And she landed on top of the horse paddock, one hand grasping the roof for balance. It was hard to tell under those black shades, but the angry look she was shooting at Sam could not have been a good thing. Slowly, she reached her free hand over her shoulder, and pulled a silvery, very sharp looking sword out of the bundle on her back...
Sam huffs, maul still pointedly at his side. "Drawn steel? And without even so much as a challenge."
"What?!" Iri yelled down. It was kind of hard to hear what people were saying at this speed. At least it was when you were on top of a car. Trailer. Thing.
He sighed and held out his free hand, a gesture of peace - and assistance for the Warden's balance if necessary. He raised his voice. "You may as well come inside."
Iri frowned, but seemed to take the gesture as it was intended. She pulled herself forward and dropped down into the trailer of the truck, sword still in hand. "Where's the kid."
"It's a little early for drawn weapons, wouldn't you say?" Sam leaned against the cab, blocking the view into the window.
"You're the one who brough magic into this, changling," she replied calmly, her sword twirling lightly in her hand. "Where is she?" Her tone was becoming more insistant.
"I just redecorated the street a little. The poor thing looked so drab, you know? I thought a little color might be just the thing." He huffed. "I didn't know you were with the housing association."
Ding! "Please turn left now." Ding Ding!
The truck driver was happy to comply, trying not to freak out about whatever the fuck was going on back there.
"..." Iri huffed out a sigh of irritation, and raised her hand to her face, pulling her glasses down and looking Sam in the eye directly.
He met her gaze readily, his golden eyes wide and inviting. He had nothing to hide, especially not from this Warden, but the question was... did she?
A moment later, she quirked an eyebrow, and pushed her shades back up, apparently watching him to see his reaction. She didn't lower her blade, but she did shift into a less offensive stance. "You've kidnapped the child I'm supposed to protect. You're in league with a thrall of the red court, at first glance. You seem to have some semblance of honour, but your kind and mine have different ways of viewing things like that. Still, I'll ask you one last time, where is Rachel?"
Sam reeled, momentarily shocked out of his relaxed demeanor. He blinked once, languidly lidding his eyes as if against a suddenly too-bright day. So that is what Soulgaze was like. No wonder Rachel didn't go around staring people in the face all the time. It didn't, however, keep him from listening with some bemusement to the Warden's increasingly clipped speech.
He didn't shift away from the cab, but he did wave a hand at the irate woman. It was difficult to tell if the gesture was meant to be dismissive or placating. "No one has been kidnapped, I am in league with no Red thralls, and your kind and mine are the same." He smiles, an easygoing grin. "I have a soul, and free will, as do you! That's as human as you can get."
"If that were true, your eyes would not be yellow. You've not chosen which camp you belong to, and that in itself is a choice, if not the most important one. Don't think to call yourself human until that day - it demeans the term." Her words weren't as harsh as they could have been though. "As for the charge of kidnapping, you plucked a young girl from her home without asking her parent or guardian. Even by mortal standards, you've commited a crime. By white council standards, you've taken the child of a wizard far too young to have full defenses against such things as fae domination, and done so in the company of a being bitten by the vampire faction we are currently at war with. Were I-"
"Were you any more boring I'd have tossed you out of my truck by now." He holds up a hand to stem the flow of words. Gods but she could talk the ear off of anything, is that how she got this sorry posting? "If you'd just-"
"Well then." The truck's engine coughs and dies, a whisp of smoke rising from the engine box. "So be it." She falls into a proper stance, ready to attack.
He doesn't move, though his voice softens. "If you'd looked anywhere but at me with those judging-"
"??????." A few moments later, Sam's head stopped spinning enough to find himself lying flat out on a low roof top above the street. In the truck, Iri lowered her sword and blew a stray hair out of her face. Glancing at the two in the cab, she shrugged. "He'll be fine. I can tell he has a thick skull. Rachel, a word?"
Riley mutters with a defeated glare to the warden, "Just find out what she did to Sam, Kid. You can see James another day if it comes to that."
And fade to black...
Steel Shadow
05-10-2013, 02:07 AM
"- And there will be some brief traffic delays in the Northern Cross region as roadway services are still cleaning up after the pileup early this afternoon. There's still no official reason for the crash, but rumours suggest a gps glitch is to blame. -"
---
Events during your stay underground:
Meanwhile, James walks a few blocks away from the site of the riverview and then flags down a cab to head back to his apartment, where he changes into PROPER CLOTHES, THANKS RILEY(You're Welcome), after asking the cabi to hold on and wait for him. Picking up his old trusty revolver on the way out the door, James gives it a quick once over, and tucks it into his shoulder holster, just like when he used to be a cop.
And then it's to the police station. Probably didn't need to bring his gun, but you never know what could happen on the way. Especially when your name is James Spade. Somehow, however, he manages to drive his beaten up, nasty, old car to the station without incident, and, adjusting his fedora and his (terribly burnt) trench coat, heads for the entrance.
(and apparently Steel is too lazy to do NPCs so I'm doing this all on my own! Thus, this is the story where James gets hookers and blow and nothing bad happens ever.)
Walking through the entrance, he stops before even entering the metal detector, and gestures to the guard on duty to come over and take his gun, and holds out his hands to be cuffed. The man looks at him for a minute, before James explains, "Just escaped a shoot out at the hospital. Figured it'd be easier for everyone if I just swung by to explain. Name's is Spade, by the way. I'm sure you'll learn it."
The rookie lets out a sigh. "Right, I've seen the files," and, taking James's gun, gestures the man inside. "I'm sure the detectives working the case are going to want to talk to you, but I'm not sure there's much point in the hand cuffs."
James just grins in response and follows the man to a small room with a one way mirror, white plain walls, a table, and a few folding chairs. "Actually, kid," James says as he sits down. "Could you ask the Chief to come on in and have a chat?"
The uniformed officer shrugs, and responds, "Yeah sure, whatever. I'm sure he hasn't seen enough of you. . ." before leaving.
Time ticks by slowly in the small white walled room, as James slides his chair back and rests his feet on the table. He's nearly fallen asleep, his fedora hangs down over his face, when the door slams, startling him awake.
An older man, well muscled with a large and somewhat ridiculous looking mustache being the only hair--aside from bushy eyebrows--on his head glares at James. "Spade. What the hell are you doing in my precinct? I thought I kicked you out."
James just grins in response as the other man crosses his arms over his chest. "Oh thought I'd stop by, see how things were going. . ." He then glances up at the camera. "Someplace we can talk in private? Got things to say that maybe you don't want on the public record."
The other man seems to ignore his request for a minute as he continues on, "Oh right, I remember now. You're wanted in connection for a shooting in a GODDAMN HOSPITAL, Spade! You don't get to sit there and grin at me after that." He paces around in front of the table and slams his hands down on it glaring at the detective as hard as he possibly could. It was probably good the chief weren't a wizard, because that look could probably kill.
"I thought I was done with your bullshit when I fired you!" The chief continues. "But here you are, your name connected to all this shit. Missing people, exploding hotels, hospital shoot outs. . . give me one goddamn reason I'm not throwing you in lock up for the next twenty years!"
James pondered pointing out that lock up had, you know, limits, and he couldn't really be held for very long without being charged with a crime, and even then he had the right to trial, but he thought better of it, and instead he glanced back up at the camera. "Well, Sir, I'll say exactly one word in front of the camera that ought to entice you--Russians."
The Chief remains silent for a moment looking Spade over and then walks over to the door and opens it, stepping through. He glances back after a second. "What the hell are you waiting for Spade? My office. Now."
"Yes, Sir, Chief Sir," James replies as he swings his feet back onto the ground and stands up marching after the precinct's chief to his office, where the door is slammed once again--seems the chief has anger management issues. But then again, wouldn't anyone when dealing with James after this long?
"Spill it, Spade. No one here to listen in," the chief grumbles as he storms around to his desk and falls into his seat, as James takes a chair across from it.
"Well, Chief, it's like this, last night while I was in the hospital our mutual friends came to see me, or rather one of them did," James begins. "Big Russian guy, didn't get a name. Was alright enough to give me a smoke, though, anyway," the detective continues waving a hand as if to chase away unimportant details. "Guy tells me there's someone, or someones, starting open warfare with the gangs, that this one group is responsible for all that bad shit going down on the news lately. . . that they took out the Chinese entirely and the Russians are being drawn into open warfare. . ."
James clears his throat stopping for a moment. "Now, of course, given our history I told him he could go fuck himself in not so many words, but he brought up a good point, lots of innocent people are getting hurt in this, so yeah, I agreed to help. Met with a couple friends after that, did some information gathering--not much yet, mind, I did only have one night--but I put together a few leads. Couple of them connected to the people in my room this morning, but I ain't gonna give you any names before you ask, confidentiality is necessary for us field agents, I'm sure you know that. . ."
The chief merely glares at James. "Get to the point, Spade."
"Point is, Chief, that attack by the yamas? It wasn't coincidence. I don't have anything solid enough to run with but I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track. Getting shot at is usually a good hint to keep digging where you are in my experience. . ."
The Chief sighs. "And you couldn't tell me this in there because. . ."
"Because we're all working for the same people, Chief, and as much as I hate the Russians, and they hate me, I don't think they want to see me get locked up right now. Besides, we're all on the same side here. So you mark this down as self defense, and let me walk on my own recognisance and I'll give you a bit of good publicity soon as I can, sound like a deal?"
". . ."
". . ."
"Get the hell out of my station, Spade."
----
After Sam leaves to go talk to Evie and Riley, Iri doesn't take long to ask Rachel for the full story of what she's been through and how she's ended up working with-
"A Changeling built like a tank, a Gangland White Court Vampire, a Red Court Infected Chauffeur, and... I don't know what James is. Do I want to know?" James told her what he was! Mortals come in all shapes and sizes!
"Well... If you want the part where we all started working together, it was a lonely night on the pier when I'd been tracking the work of some necromantic magic... I'd been doing a typical augury but I wasn't very good at it, so I resorted to using the sight to check shipping containers, and what I found, well, let's say it was a pile of still-moving corpses. Thing spiralled out of control quickly, and we got in a high speed chase during what could be called a localized zombie apocalypse. Fun fact, zombies don't slow down when you blow off their legs or arms." Rachel starts, musing with the tone of a storyteller reminiscing.
"..." Iri takes a moment to absorb that. In the end, she tries "... I do find head-shots work best on them, yeah..."
"So um, after that we tracked down the necromancer and uh, I counterspelled while they shot him. It worked out!" Rachel says, "But then he cast a death curse and the floor collapsed, and it's kinda hard to cast magic when you're drowning in an underground waterway."
The Warden flinched at that, but didn't say anything.
"Well, after that we got lost in the undercity. Turns out there's a bunch of natural never gates down there? We crossed maybe three or four times, I have a map written down somewhere, but anyway... Eventually we ran into an exit, but it was guarded by a fae, and well, I asked what I could call her and she got mad, so I introduced myself, yeah, that was a bad idea. I turned it around though, kind of, but then she just hit a nerve and I shot her. Things spiralled out of control quickly when it turned out she was immune to magic, but we escaped anyway. And uh, that's our first adventure."
The older woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "All of that... That all happened?" Slowly she cracked one eye open, focusing on the teen wizard. "I'm... Ngh, I'm going to have to evaluate how far your magical ability has come. Can you call up a training room or something? Just something kind of big and sturdy that you won't be able to knock a huge hole in..."
"Kay. Hang on." Rachel works on setting up a room! Maybe not sturdy enough to not knock a hole in, but... You know, certain things simply can't be done.
"Hm. It'll do, I suppose. Now..." And so Iri began running Rachel through various spell casting tests. The walls had to be rebuilt several times.
-
As for everyone else, what events get kicked off while you wait for the heat to die down outside?
A few hours after settling in at the Hotel Hideout:
EV quickly fumbles with the locks on her door and bursts out into the main room. "Rachel! Quick! We forgot to have the loci make bathrooms!"
"Oh... Oh! We did, didn't we... Um, hang on." Rachel concentrates for a moment, "Thinking of where to put them..." settling on one at each end of the various hallways that had organically formed when the rooms were asked for, she visualizes some bathrooms for the hotel to attempt to create. Maybe it still had a toilet or two lying around?
Let's not get into the specifics of a teenage wizard trying to cobble together a plumbing system in Sims mangement style. Instead, we shall just say that a few attempts later, it's workable!
When the toilets work EV rushes towards the nearest one with inhumanly fast speed! "Oh good! It remembered a shower too!" Within a couple minutes the toilet can be heard flushing and the shower being turned on.
Sometime later that night:
EV cracks open the door to her room and shouts out while holding her phone, "Yo Iri! What caliber's your gun? I'm ordering you some rubber bullets online."
Overhearing, as she often does, this being her domain, Rachel shouts "Don't you know Leonazium, anyway? Or some nonlethal spell?"
"Ah, I use a revolver," Iri calls back, naming the brand and make out of hand. "It's not that modern... Good luck?" She shrugs before responding to Rachel. "I know a non-lethal spell or two. Guns are less taxing - Magical power isn't infinite, even if you do have unusually large reserves for your age..."
Leaning against the door frame, EV flips through the order pages mumbling "Good thing Egypt's credit cards haven't been turned off yet." and makes a custom order. Done she calls out, "Delivering to Rachel's. Should be there in a couple days." And ducks back behind her locked door.
After a few more hours of googling and ordering, she sends a text to James. 'Hey Dick. You should be getting some non-lethal things arriving at your place in a day or two. Some assembly required.'
A text comes back eventually, 'Putting together some things of my own. Will work it in. Thanks for the presents.'
Riley is still tucked into the blanket on the beanbag, snoozing away. God, what a slacker.
Sam can't hang around hiding all day - he has to go to work!
So for clarity, or something, basement layout roughly like so? https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/684680/rbase.png
After escaping back to the Riverside:
Hours pass, wounds are treated, and slowly James opens an eye, just a crack and glances around the basement of the Riverside. He lets out a low groan as he sits up, noticing the others all seem to be okay as well.
"Huh, musta beaten it while I was unconscious. . ." he says blinking slowly, before collapsing back down, staring at the ceiling. "I am just that amazing."
Riley appears to be using some pliers to tear the iron shrapnel out of Sam's maul and hears Jim. "Y'know, when I told you I wanted more fire that's not quite what I meant." She pauses as another piece comes free, dropping it into a neat pile next to her, "Nearly killed a couple of us and yourself back there."
"Oh, hey Jim." Rachel pops into the room as the detective wakes back up, "Feeling okay? Sorry about the uh, whole... shrapnel thing. We came as quick as we could, but you still blew yourself up." She hands him another glass phial, and frowns mischeviously, "You know, you have to stop hurting yourself or I'm gonna run out of stuff to patch you back up with."
"Yeah, I'm fine, or I will be, anyway." James replies as he takes the bottle from Rachel. "And don't worry about blowing me up, that was my plan anyay." He then turns back toward Riley, "Only ones in range of that blast was me, the monster and the kitten, and nothin' ever touches the kitten. Well, MY blast anyway."
Knocking back the healing potion with a grimace he continues, "Ya'll need to quit worrying so much. Some day you'll realize I know what I'm doing. Thing's dead and I'm not, right? Win."
Shaking her head, she continues to pick at the maul in silence.
"Hey, uh, how's Muscles anyway?" James asks glancing around. "He was taking a beating from that thing before you guys showed up. . ."
(He's dead! Funeral on Tuesday. [Either Rachel or Riley would know that he's fine and left after dropping Jim off and giving him a pick-me-up of Summer healing.])
----
Riley in: Interviews with the Worst Vampire
After the taking care of injuries and the horrible shrapnel, Riley decides that perhaps it is time to get her shit together.
But she's not very good at that.
Instead, she decides to poke at the brains of her betters. She's a vampire, dammit. Maybe she should start acting like one. But does she really want to? Whelp.
Case 1: EV
Later that evening Riley finds herself being groomed by the other vampire again. Her braid wasn't quite finished when they left, and despite being involved in combat it became rather ragged and loose.
After a shower (much to EV's insistance, not that it was needed) she finds herself sitting in a chair drying, not minding the tugs coming from the brush. Giving a small nod to herself, she fixates on something-anything, in the room as she begins to speak. "Hey EV, do you have any advice to...I dunno, not suck at this?"
"What? At doing hair? You do hair great!"
A small shake of her head, careful not to mess with whatever strands were being held. "Ah, no, I should have been specific. I meant at being a fighter. Or just a vampire in general." Her voice lowers, embarassed. "I really suck at it."
"Those are very different questions. Better vampire? Well, Rachel will disagree, but the way to be a better vampire is to give in. Go nom on James. Contact Madam Caloe, and learn the ropes - I mean the ones specific to you - from her like I did from my mother, and still do from my aunt.
"But you don't need to be a good vampire to be a good fighter. And that's a much more complex answer."
Riley frowns, unsure about the answer. "So the only way to...not run into walls in the dark is to bite a friend and feed on their life force?"
"- Nononono! It doesn't have to be a friend, James is just an asshole. And being a good fighter isn't about being able to take a bullet to the chest or run up and strike so fast they don't see it. Its about instinct. I mean, for being mortal and an asshole, James isn't half bad in a fight. If he'd stop being a moron and putting himself in unnessicary danger, he'd even be good."
A small half-chuckle exhale could be heard at James being called an asshole. Naw, he was fine enough, just kinda crazy. Then again, so was everyone here it seemed. "Okay, so I guess since I don't want to go near that Chaloe lady if I can help it I should ask about improving, say, reaction time or something. I've gotten pretty good at freerunning and it helps, but I still can't do much other than run away." She doesn't bother to mention that her cowardice is also at fault for this.
"Practice. Like, you wanna get good at shooting? You need to actually learn how to hit something properly. I did it shooting at people... But, well, you can make do with some targets. We can probably even set up a nice long hall for it here."
"That..yeah I'd like that. I suppose it's a start." Her hands fold in her lap, fiddling idly. "But if we are going to be hiding down here I'll need to eat at some point. I don't exactly want to take a bite out of anyone in our group. Any idea of what," She pauses, not really sympathizing with the word, "my type does when holed up?"
"I doubt we'll be down here long enough for you to go nuts and attack somebody."
A sigh of relief. "Ah, alright. That's good to know."
EV ties off a strand of hair and starts on a new piece, "You know, I was never any good in a knife fight. Pete was great though. Nikki and I used to watch him spar with the other guys for hours, and I swear he almost never lost. And never when it mattered. Was kinna how we all knew he was sweet on her, heh, he actually let her win when they sparred.
"All the sparring was why he never really lost though."
"I suppose I should just get better at something that isn't encouraging James to blow everyone up." If the expression could be seen, it is a concerned yet disappointed and annoyed face that she wore. "And you've got our backs covered. Sam's the only one who can survive being so close to...whatever the hell we run into. And Rachel does..." She waves her hands a little, "that and things are obliterated."
"You know, motivation isn't worth nothing. ... Ok, I was never a fan of those cheerleader bitches. But I mean they don't stand around looking perky for nothing?
"Uh. Not that you should buy a pushup and a rah-rah skirt." EV pulls some strands of Riley's hair a bit tighter, pins it, and starts to work on the long bits.
Sticking out her tongue her face scrunches up. "Make me wear one of those things and I'll punch you with pom-poms in your sleep." A lighter chuckle escapes at the image. "But you do have a point. I still think I should get some practice in the near future with the pistol, so let me know what we may need to make some target practice down here."
"I'll let Rachel know what we need. Main thing is some sound proofing and a long hall really."
A wicked grin crosses her features, "Great, we can pelt James with the rubber bullets until he stops smoking, too. I like him enough but God I hate that smell."
"Ah, you know those things leave huge welts? They're not lethal, but that doesn't mean they don't do damage...
"Wait. This is a fantastic idea."
She waves her hand in dismissal. "It was more a joke about him needing to outrun the shots and get fit, let's not actually hurt the guy. He's been through enough as is."
"Heh. Its his fault and he deserves it. Still, think of the guy as asthmatic, I doubt he's capable of getting into shape. He's been smoking for way too long."
"Well, it'd be better to get him on the right track at least?" A beat, choosing her next words wisely, "I know you two hate each other's guts, but both of you are pretty damn good at what you do. Whatever this motley crew wants to call itself needs all it can get. I don't want you guys actually going after each other's throats, even if it is justified."
EV mumbles, "Not gonna kill him. At least, not yet."
Riley's eyes slide into her peripheral vision on one side, even if she knows she can't actually see the woman behind her. "Thanks, that's all I can ask at this point. I really think that people get what's coming to them in the end anyway." It was left ambiguous on purpose. "I like both of you for different reasons, James is just a cranky old man at times who has a stick up his ass. You've had a rough time scratching a name for yourself from what I can tell. Values are going to be different is all."
"Y'know, you need to be able to defend yourself when you get into scuffs on your own. But you've, uh, not really got the strongest of fighting spirits? I mean, learn to shoot or whatever better, definitely. But maybe when you're with this crazy bunch you can do ... I'unno, something else? I mean, fights tend to take a lot of different routes depending on numbers, styles and all. If we're against a lot of guys you probably need to shoot something, yes. But if its the lot of us on one guy like yesterday? Maybe you can focus on motivation, distraction, safer stuff... I mean, you shouldn't think about getting in their face like kitty does."
A small, nervous smile is made as the subject change is blatantly obvious, but she lets it slide. She said her part. "I think I motivated a little too hard with James, so perhaps I should practice shouting more insults at tentacle'd oceans." A small chill runs through her upon remembering it. "I suppose just making sure I don't get hit or in everyone's way is top priority, then. How do you even insult a fae? Call their mother an ogre? Does that even work?" Pure confusion colored her face.
"Ask Sam for tips on that one. But you don't have to just shout at things to distract them. You can shoot at them as a distraction. I mean, and then they really don't know what you're doing, because they think you're just a really bad shot. They won't even see when James sets off the bomb or kitty bites their throat, because they're focused on how 'bad' of a shot you are."
"Alright, so I'm bad enough to be decent bait,
"- From a safe range!"
"Well, yeah-but what if they disregard me entirely because of that? Dance in a hula skirt?" Riley didn't quite have a handle on this while fighting thing.
"Eh, they might do it. But usually if you're doing something like open firing on someone its hard to ignore, even bad shots, because they will get hit if they don't pay attention."
"Mm, alright." Twiddling her thumbs again, she allows the coversation to pause while in thought. "I'll stay back and take potshots when I have to. Got it. Though, I do call jumping on any cars again in a chase. That was...well it was fun."
"And dangerous! But go for it, I doubt anyone'll try to take it from you but kitty. Then again, I'm not sure claws and paws are as good for holding onto a speeding car as hands."
"Doubtful unless he can pierce metal. Which wouldn't suprise me."
EV ties off the rest of Riley's hair, picks at a few strands, and then reties it. "All done! Go take a look!" Pretty things have been done: http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l5htZWDB1lc/T5YCApmoGrI/AAAAAAAALNM/3tUKmR6x87g/s1600/lfg-hairstyles-basket-weave-braid.jpg
Riley smiles, "Thanks, that took longer than expected, what did you-" Picking up a nearby hand mirror, she finds a larger one to inspect it properly. "Well no wonder, holy crap."
The Worst Vampire gives the Competant Vampire in the room a hug. "You have *got* to teach me that sometime. You know, when we aren't busy being on the run from...whatever."
"Sure. Its not too hard. We'll have to abduct Rachel's head for a while though. Maybe Iri's too."
"Eesh, alright, but let's skip the horses this time. My ass *still* hurts from that."
EV laughs and pulls Riley towards Rachel's room, "Hey kid! We need you to have this place set up a shooting range!"
"W-what do we need a shooting range for?" Rachel asks, quizzically. "Aren't you already good at shooting?" Her eyes slowly turn to Riley, and her mouth slowly rounds in understanding, "Ooooh... Right."
"It wouldn't be a bad skill for you to pick up, actually..." Iri muses. "... Well, maybe you're a little too young to be holding a gun." Also too young to be throwing around building leveling spells, but oh well.
********
Case 2: Rachel
With the shooting range set up (I'm assuming), Riley pulls Rachel aside, hoping to nab the girl before she goes back to putting funny looking patterns on the floor or whatever. "Hey Rachel, thanks for helping with the range, but can I borrow you for some help on something else?" Thumbing towards the targets, she smiles. "It'll be easier than this, I promise."
"Oh, sure." Rachel shrugs, looking down the shooting range one more time. So uh, maybe they didn't have the best targets in the world, but it was servicable, maybe. She'd have to tell the Hotel that Rayle's torso (what remained of it) was not an acceptable mannequin, no matter how humanoid it may be. "What's up?"
Somewhere in the background, EV can be heard complaining at the wall about the rotting smell of Rayle flesh.
"I uh...was wondering if you could tell me about vampires." She frowned, "Specifically, the kind I am, apparently. That's covered in your studies somewhere, right?"
"Oh, you mean Red Court vampires?" Rachel shrugs looking thoughtful, "Um, they're like bloodsucking bat-monsters vulnerable to sunlight, fire, and abdominal wounds, prey on humans by wearing an ectoplasmic disguise of the person they originally were. Far as I know... They may or may not retain any of their memories before transformation. I never got to ask one, really."
Riley pales a little, "Wh-what? Okay, okay, hold up." She rubs both of her temples with one hand, covering her vision for a moment. "Sunlight, fire, bloodsuckers, that makes sense. What's this about memory loss and 'wearing an ectoplasmic disguise' stuff? So I don't turn into a vampire, something *else* does?" A chill runs through her spine. "This better not be like Alien with something bursting out of my chest when all is said and done."
"I'm afraid that's exactly what happens, Riley." Rachel replies, matter-of-factly. "Burst-open ribcage and everything. I've seen it before, it's not pretty. Only this time the alien wears it's host again as an artifical plasmic suit. Those dogs? Yeah, same material."
A blank stare is the only response. "You're...you're kidding me, right? That's horrible."
"You understand why I was loathe to allow Caloe to speak with you at all now, yes?" Rachel replies, "Ordinarially I cannot intervene, but this is a special case. You're lucky we're at war, in some perverse sense."
Panic began to set in, but it was slow going as she ran her hands along the sides of her own face. "But, the tat's that I got help, right? Is there anything I can do to stop that..thing from winning? I thought I was the one turning into a vampire, not a host."
"It's a common misconception. I cannot say for certain except that what becomes of you after that transformation will not be the person you once were, be it if your continuity continues or ends at that moment. The tattoos do help you, and you have them for a very good reason." Rachel steps forward and hugs Riley around the waist, "I like you just the way you are, Riley, I don't want anything to happen to you. As long as you don't kill anyone by eating them, you should... Probably be alright. That's usually what triggers it."
Riley returns the hug, nearly in tears as she grips Rachel on the shoulder with one hand. "P-probably? What else does?"
"Mortal souls have an inbuilt defense agaisnt transformative magicks endowed upon them by their creator, to... Well, you know. Theoretically the act of slaying someone by supernatural means, much like violating magic's first law, would weaken this sufficiently enough to allow it to come to completion. You're, well, in the eclipse phase, I suppose. The part where a virus has taken root but yet to show lethal signs. Stay strong?"
Pulling Rachel closer she nods, face practically buried in the teenager's hair. "So...can I stay like this? Can I go back..?"
"There aren't any known cures, dear... We've tried very hard." Rachel sounds, well, a mix of ashamed and frustrated, "It's a very difficult condition. You should... be able to stay that way for at least your normal mortal lifespan, if you're very careful."
Her mouth hangs open for a fraction of a second, sound struggling to come out of her dry throat, "A-alright. I think I can do that." She certainly didn't sound very sure of herself, but she releases Rachel from her clutches. "Thanks."
Rachel steps back and nods, also a tear in her eye, "I'll do what I can to help, at least. M-maybe you should try to be like other vampires, you know? Uh, like... I donno... Use your super-strength to weild really big guns or something... I mean that's what Alucard does, right?"
A weak laugh escapes as she dries her eyes on her sleeve. "Kid, have you seen these guns lately?" She brings up an arm to flex, offering an awkward smile. "I can barely handle the itty bitty thing EV gave me, let alone wave around anything Sam would have trouble with. All I've got right now is 'oh hey this doesn't hurt as badly as I thought' powers."
"Well... I donno, I've never been a vampire before, you know? Maybe you could try getting fast like Evie does? That's what Toreador do in that Vampire tabletop game... Oh, oh or grow claws like a Gangrel!"
Riley looks at her nails woefully, "But...can you paint claws?" She blinks before looking up again. "But seriously, I've been running all over the city, I don't know how to get faster at this point. Do I need to do a ritual or something?"
Rachel looks at Riley with a squinty eye for a moment, "Hmm... I donno... I've never helped someone be a better vampire before. All I do is magic, you know? Sorry... I mean I guess I could do something to... No, no... That's a horrible idea. No transformative magics. Mh-mn."
Rubbing her chin, her eyes brighten for just a moment. "Ah, know what? I think I have an idea. It's a bad one, but it might just work." Before Rachel can protest, Riley has already given the wizard a tight but brief hug. "Thank you! I won't give up on you, just remember that!" With that she bolts to EV's room with a wave, shutting the door behind her.
"Um... You're welcome!" Rachel weakly waves as Riley suddenly runs off, "Huh... Poor girl."
Somewhere far off in the background EV can be seen brandishing some paper with roughly human shapes drawn onto them in sharpie at the wall, and shouting at said wall for it to remove Rayle's corpse.
---
"This is Charlie Cortez reporting live from the Shivington district, where reports of yet another civil disturbance have broken out, this time involving a series of stolen fire engines and a possible massive practical joke utilising the remains of the Riverview hotel. Viewers may remember that the Riverview was demolished not-"
In the background, a fire truck trailing sparks shot past the camera, barrelling down the road at insane speeds, chased by a blue mini and several other vehicles. The sound of gunfire is unmistakable.
"... Steve. Follow that Fire Truck."
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