Logs:PrP: An Unlucky Flesh Intruder

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PrP: An Unlucky Flesh Intruder

"Pop!"

Dramatis Personae

Alex, Kato, Chiara w/ Leah as ST

13 November, 2015


'

Location

The waxing crescent in the skin is barely a sliver there. A little flick of pale yellow light in the sky shinning through the partial cloud cover. Its cold though. Above freezing but still so *cold*. A wind blows that cold air a little bit harder, making it feel a good five degrees colder than the thermometer says.

Moisture gathers in the clouds threatening to fall, or freeze, or both. This particular side street of the Commercial district is filled with little Mom 'n Pop places, locally owned shops, and the odd urine scented alleyway.

It is on a stretch of this street where the shops are all closed for the night that the street light next to a parking lot flickers and goes out.

Zzzizzccle crrrrrrkkkk

POP!!

Darkness claims more of the world.

Kato is strolling along, minding his own business. Perhaps scouting talent for his own club, perhaps future-bodies for his army of the night. He pauses as the street light sizzles and pops, glancing up at it with a quirked brow.

As Alex makes her way along, wherever she is, she steps right onto a small compact mirror. It used to be a pretty thing. Pink with flowers on it. Now it's all cracked and the mirror is shattered. Right under foot.

The shiver of the cold can be defeated by God-hating red cups with white lids, an elixir sure to drain pocketbooks as surely as hold the Maine autumn at bay. Steam spills upwards from the pierced lid that Chiara holds close to her lips, more to absorb the prospect of heat than actually taste whatever liquid is in there. She clutches the cup in her right hand, the left occupied by gesturing while looped around the arm of a much shorter brunette woman with a definitive bearing in the world. The two make a study of opposition, one tall and the other petite, the absorbing conversation veering between English and someone most definitely not native to the language. "Right over there," she is saying. "Hanging off the roof, waving a flag, saying the revolution will be televised. I suppose propaganda is an artform? See for yourself." Her doubt on this matter percolates through the air.

The Italian thus is not entirely taken unawares or aback when the light flashes brighter and goes out, though it seems to coincide to her wrist's flick. Will someone potentially accuse her for this? That long, vacant pause shines while she stares at the growing dark. "See? The imminent need for infrastructure improvements!"

Alex is following alongside Chiara, the fourteen inch height difference between the pair striking enough for two beautiful women to more easil ydraw the eye than they ordinarily might. She nods in response to the words being spoken to her, brows furrowing as she pauses to look downward. "A... Mirror?" There's a faint frown and now ALx is takign a slow ,deep breath. She shakes her head slowly, looking vaguely taken aback. Another pause. A deep breath is taken and then she breathes a quiet sigh. "I have to agree. It could also do with proper sweeping, I'd suppose. Did you enjoy your lunch? It is one of my very favourite places."

There on the ground? Just to the left of Kato's foot as he walks is a pocket knife. It glints in the light from a passing car briefly. The blade sticking out so that it could cut into someone's foot.

The glint of light on an open blade catches Kato's eye, predictably. He crouches, reaching out to retrieve the pocket knife, less out of any sort of civic concern for the feet of the unshod as much as out of a morbid curiousity about the blade itself.

As a car passes by it shines it light off of the glass window of a storefront. There, briefly, Chiara can see the flash of the price on the window --- 17 --- the only thing visible through the glare. Bright and red.

The mirror cracks under Alex's foot, to be left broken on the street as she continues on. Meanwhile, the knife in Kato's hand? It is cold to the touch-- obviously be out here for a while. A little bit dirty, but otherwise uninteresting.

A light at the corner of an L shaped strip mall begins to flicker and crackle.

As Chiara is flickering her gaze along, she catches her own reflection in the mirror. Only it isn't her. The reflection moves on its own. Looking utterly alarmed for a moment. Before that reflection disappears. And ... is that a black cat that just hopped down from a car up ahead and to the left? No good at all. But also ... is that the shadow of a person just edging into the light in the corner where that light is flickering out? It seems very much like it is.

A touch follows on Alex's arm, and then Chiara extricates her arm from her smaller companion. The tea or coffee, whatever the benighted brew is, goes to her gloved hand. "You found a mirror?" Her back stiffens a fraction, and her head tips slightly to the side. "Hopefully no kind of show by a disturbed mind." Of course, Alex isn't the one wearing a skirt so there is that. She probably has her reasons to worry about pranks and peeping Toms and Thomasinas. The lilt of her voice thickens, the accent weaving around in abundant brushstrokes to the ear. "I did indeed enjoy it. What a lovely treat to share that sort of a secret." In her idle trespass on every property with a curious look from behind her glasses, she pauses long enough to wave at Kato. The man stands out. The man stands out a great deal, after all, and likewise a girl in a red coat on this side of burgundy might as well. Her smile marks a greeting as she taps Alex on the shoulder. "Don't step on a crack, or you'll break your mother's back."

It's very impressive to know the idiom or a child's rhyme, much less say it, when you are a foreigner.

Kato closes the knife, then rises, pocketing it. He doesn't share some matter-mages' preoccupation with the sanctity of tools, but there's no point in letting it go to waste. He catches the wave, nodding gravely in response to Chiara.

Schnick.

The knife closes easily.

CRACK!

The light in the corner goes out.

Behind Kato the rest of the street lights go out. Those view lights left on on the store fronts go out as well. Like dominos. Soon the entire area is filled with darkness.

Alex nods slowly, looking around as she does so. Those wide blue eyes are taking in everything carefulll y. SHe keeps her arm in CHiara's as she surveys the street, In the darkness nothing is as visible as te woman might like so there's an air of concentration about her as she does. "I'll be very caeful. How well can you see...? Stars?" That's really just a whisper as Alex cnats her head. "Otherwise we should probably move a touch more swiftly."

Do not go gentle into that good night. Tapping the corner of her glasses near the temples, Chiara's thin smile answers Alex on all levels except verbal. Very probably she suffers from being near-sighted, given the relative thinness of the lenses.

Rave at the close of day. She puts the lid to her lips and the caginess of any urbanite thrown onto a dark side street manifests itself, letting her fall in faintly behind Alex. "Signora?" The soft whisper from her filters through the distance, agreeing perhaps with this task of moving along just now. In this case, it's not near the light on the corner. Nope.

Kato turns in place, watching the lights go out with a disapproving frown. And they call this a 'developed nation'? Still, he'll grudgingly admit that ordinarily, lights in the states do not simply 'go out' all at once like that. He turns, picking his way carefully towards where he saw Chiara.

Alex nods slowly at that. She threads her fingersi nto Chiara's now and takes a deep breath. "I will be our eyes," she states then i na very gentle tone. "Just stick close and I'll see what we shall do abut this next. I suddenly regret leaving our cars entire blocks away." She is looking around againm almost reflexively. Brunette tresses frame the motion. Alex is being slow and deliberate, staying close to her near blind companion. "At least it is not the height of winter yet. Warm enough yet to think."

There is magic in the area or well something /like/ magic. There is a strange, twisted energy moving in the darkness near the strip-mall, coming toward the three mages.

The sound of something scraping against the cement can be hard in the darkness. Is it coming closer to the mages?

There is a twisted, dark magic ... or is it a mind? Moving in the darkness coming toward the mages.

Kato reaches the two woman, pausing to put on his mage sight.

There is something using magic coming toward the mages in the darkness. It's like stygia but twisted and rotted... how do you rot the realm of rot? Well this is all wrong.

The benefits to being tall and rather fair, minus the dark hair: short of metaphysical shadows dropping, you stand out. Kato ought to have little enough trouble locating Chiara. She further isolates herself in the world by touching the subtlest of her arts, neither a word or betraying sigh giving her away. The gesture is fluttered light and precise, merely the act of tossing her hair back. "Sounds good. I rather not be hobbling about the rest of the week." She sounds cheerful, if quiet, about her predicament. Just an Italian girl in a gloomy night, even as she betrays her supernal origins reluctantly. The slew of midnight before them, and she gently taps Alex's inner arm with a gloved hand. It's still warm from her tea. "Inbound."

Kato frowns. "There is something coming," he warns the other two, "Something... possibly Abyssal."

"So it would appear," Alex responds quietly, turning slightly as she does so. The smaller of the two women is taking a deep breath now, her left hand sliding beneath her coat as she is turning yet again, still looking about in all directions. "If you can't see then do your best to stay behind me. As ironic as that might be when considering our heights it will probbly help somewhat. Are you familiar with the sort of trouble we seem to having here...? We should probably move. Not too quickly... But we need a destination. Do you have a suggestion, sir? My friend is new to the area." Now at last Kato has all of Alexandra's attention.

Chiara's penetrating gaze flickers off into the night, where the collusion of broken lights stirs her to action for something. Distraction from various spells really fails to penetrate through her settled concentration. "Si," she replies, possibly to anything in question. Maybe not a question even raised yet.

And what is that? Something comes sailing out of the total darkness, into the near-darkness, and slashes across Alex's shoulder. Stabbing at her, and spilling something /foul/ all over said wound as it tears through her magical armor, and her clothing.

Alex recoils when the creature is striking at her. Dodging out of the way as the slash comes. It isn't that she is preternaturally swift. No, the observant would note the woman started to move just before the blow came, as if she'd just happened to turn away and so fial to receive the worst of the strike. Still she hisses as blood is drawn. A pistol is drawn out of the woman's coat suddenly, matte black and almost invisible in the darkness. Two quick shots are tkaen without hesitation even as rivulets of blood run along her arm to soak into her coat. "Ah...! You were right... Chiara, can you defend yourself? She's released the taller woman's arm finally.

Kato's guesswork apparently proves itself to be relatively correct. Nothing like a nearly invisible thing appearing from nothing to spill a nameless, foul substance down a freshly opened tear in a woman's clothing. It is practically an affront to a young woman born adjacent to the Milanese fashion houses. Lips tighten to a white line, and Chiara boldly recoils several steps back. Another tensile string plucks at the senses, playing in a musing key. The thousand-yard stare thrown at the presence pierces right through it, and the minute shifts in her bearing put her on a more offensive bearing.

The thing snarls in rage -- or gurgles in rage -- its more of a wet, sharp little whistle noises. Another tendril thrashes out at the shooter. Stabbing her sharply in the shoulder.

The massive chunk of lead and bone that Kato carries as a 'cane' comes up, then down in a weighty blow on the abyssal attacker. In a human it would crack bones. In an Intruder, well, does it even have bones?

Chiara stays safely out of wriggling tentacle distance, as any bystander caught up in the strange streetside fight would. For all intents and purposes, she is hiding the way she was told. Let the two heavies engage the slippery monstrosity. The abyssal Intruder is engaged by bone mace and the crack of small arms fire on a night when the City of Light burns, and Fallcoast drowns in profaned gloom. She closes her hands around the cup she still incongruously carries, the scrape of her boots on stone almost inaudible.

It's pure coincidence organ matter erupts through its various orifices in a welter of blood and tissue, leaking through the apertures in a building tide that will ruin a perfectly good shirt. If it wears shirts. If not, someone needs a bath.

The creature lets out one last squeal of anger before its brain is splattering and the overall damage is just too much for it. It slums down onto the ground and the lights begin to flicker back on. Slowly illuminating the area. The creature? Well ... it /used/ to be a human. Now its full of tentacles and ...

Wait is it turning to goo? It is.

Alex is somehow moving aside when the grey matter is spurting along the ground. It falls in front of her in a foul smelling pool of sludg and she is left swallowing hard. Perspiration beads on the woman's brow as she carefully looks over her surroundings and hen moves to her gun away back into her coat. "ANd there are the lights. The worst of this seems to be... over..." She groans faintly, pressing a gloved hand hard against her right side where more blood is seeping down her clothing as moments pass by. "Is everyone uninjured? We should head toward the Consilium before something else pops out of the darkness to go "boo"."

Kato inspects the puddle of sludge impassively, then glances to Alex. "I am uninjured. You... do not appear to be."

The business of sludge falls then to Chiara, who promptly spills out the contents of the cup into the nearest gutter. Then with breathtaking care, she approaches the slimy puddle breaking down into its component parts, possibly prepared to maneuver it without actually touching it into the cup. Can this be done? Great, if not, she casts a grim shadow in red. Irene Adler wishes she had it so good. This, then, is why a smart girl wears gloves she's willing to dispose of for the sake of science. "We were parked at a nearby garage," she says in a soft, off-handed way totally at odds with the bubbly thing present a few minutes ago. "Can you safely make it there, or will you need us to transport you?" The query shifts off Alex back to Kato, whom she acknowledges with a curt, not impolite nod. Thoughts are wheeling behind her cool facade, distant academic mind calculating what she can sell that goop to the Free Council for? Bet on it. "This no longer represents a direct threat. We need quarantine to be sure the area is safe and fully contained. An assessment for the location would be best, so that proper containment measures as necessary can be undertaken." Any question of what her Order is? "I defer to the better judgment of security."