Logs:Pyrodiscotechnicals

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Pyrodiscotechnicals

Dramatis Personae

Brigitte, Carla, Hawker, Ira, Webb and Peach ST:Kian

14 January, 2017


Hunters check on how natural some recent murders are. Not at all is the answer.

Location

An Old Discotheque


Over the last 2 weeks the FPD has been investigating a series of murders up the south side of the city. 12 murders over the course of 14 nights is not really acceptable a all but the police just can’t figure what’s causing this. Brigitte got a folder passed to her by a concerned officer, the folder is thick mostly with pictures of crime scenes showing bodies that haven’t been eaten or any of the normal monster activity. it looks like they were tortured and then ripped apart with sharp objects. Not claws but knives. A lot of different kinds of knives. One man looks like he was ripped apart with something like a chainsaw. Whatever did this did it with the intent to cause pain and fear. Not to eat.

To hunt down a maniac you need a maniac. And that is why Brigitte has called in Hawker - not that she will tell him that. She pushes over another of the gruesome photos. "At least there's no cum on the corpses" she deadpans in her French accent. "So maybe it is not sexual...just sadistic." That makes it so much better. "Unless it took prizes to jerk off with later." A look to Hawker that suggests he may know of such things before Brigitte shrugs. "You have any street informants on the south side?"

Hawker is sadly used to brutality...both from his past...and his own aspirations involving eventual plans to...well, get rid of the local Mafia. "I know the Kings? I could lean on Matteo too...I got friends in all manner of places. Still...I don't think this looks like a real ritual. Too much destruction...unless it's some fucked up summoning thing? The pain fuels something? Even for my people this is brutal. More like...the Columbians or Mexican drug cartel style." Hawker isn't a serial killer...and not -that- sort of sex freak. His fantasies are still -sane-... "We should find...or try to find uh...like a pattern in victims?" He's watched Crime Shows!

The police already tried that. The only noticeable pattern that that at least one victim in every site had in the last few months had suddenly been promoted at work, won a small part of the lottery, or in one guys case was awarded a bunch of money for slipping on 7up at Walmart.

Brigitte indicates the report where the possible pattern is noted. "Looks like someone doesn't like lucky people" she notes. "If it is a summoning thing then I would not be surprised if victim thirteen will be the last." A casual shrug. "But we are only guessing. We need to be out there on the street. Maybe get Aurore to do some snooping with her mind? Maybe some of the other witche’s could help too."

Hawker grunts a bit...street stuff is at least some thing he can grasp as it were. "I can get out there and see if any of my friends got anything...if all else? I'm a stupidly luck man with criminal intents...I can see if he'll go for me, right?" Hawker volunteering to be bait. "Though...I bet the homeless know something. If this guy used an industrial saw...well. I'll go hit them up. You want to call Aurore?"

Hawker doesn’t know anyone who does any rituals but it seems most of the people who were on this list always seemed to buy information from a creeper(as in creepy skeevy guy) out of some old club called the far side. The place is a skeevy discotheque, the kind of place you go to buy drugs, wash your hands then leave as quickly as possible.

"You're /lucky/?" Brigitte looks over Hawker and shakes her head a little. She would hate to see the unlucky one. "You want to be bait? It's an option I guess. Put out the word that you won a scratch lottery ticket. Not a lot but enough." She checks her phone. "Aurore isn't around." Brigitte considers for a moment. "Let's get the word out that you won some money, Hawker, and that you're looking to party. See what happens."

Hawker just grins at Brigitte when she decides to question if he's lucky. "Sure sure...let’s check this guy out though..." Hawker will go all thugged out...that is to say, black clothe’s, leather jacket...lead pipe in a jacket pocket...a Tec-9 under the jacket, you know, in case. "Just uh...I think you should mingle in the club. This guy might be watching this dealer for like, marks. He might actually realize this dealer can be a connection, you know?" Hawker would probably go to smash the guy's head in if -he- was a serial killer and realized this. Still...there is a disco thing to get in...a dealer to shake down!

Brigitte and Hawker are investigating a serial killer that has the police stumped at the moment - it may be a monster. Hawker is going to shakedown some connections to see if they know anything and that means going to some horrible club. Brigitte has called in Carla for her experience, scientific knowledge and because if she's going to the club she's taking a hot chick with her. Though she did warn Carla to dress down a little. So now they're at the 'Far Side' club.

Carla rides into the scene in her black lambo. She walks out in a flowery white tank top and jeans with a black leather jacket over it. She holds the jacket closed snugly and comes up to the rest of the hunter people. She makes sure to give all of them a big hug as she pops into the club. "Hey guys. What's the problem here." She looks around the area. "Do we know what we're dealing with here? The initial prognosis...seems a little...vague."

The club is barely that. Sure at one time this was probably a hip place daddy-o. now its older than hawker is and the place looks like it probably has more rats than people. The place is covered in dust and smells like hobo piss and vomit. Through the coat check area that your pretty sure has a possum nest in the corner there’s the dance floor with a skinny rat faced guy sitting in a chair looking like he’s sleeping next to a lit cigarette.

"I can't believe we've never tried this place before" Brigitte asides to Carla before gesturing to the figure in the chair. She makes her way over, looking at the body before placing fingers to check for a pulse. A glance around as she nods to Carla in a 'he's dead' kind of way. Where did that damn Hawker go?

"Uh...the smell?" Carla suggests as she looks around the place. "I mean I don't know what I expected but...well if you like it um." Carla gives a thumbs up. "Well he's gone so now what? Is this fresh? Where's that leave us? Our perp...if that's a thing people say must be somewhere close by right?"

Hawker was going to do the routine of threatening...but ...Brigi announces he's dead. "Well....shit." He suddenly isn't prime material for this. "Did he OD?" He asks suddenly. "I mean...like if he got whacked...we could use Miska..."

All of the sudden the clubs sound system starts to kick off. The sound disco inferno starts to play at tinnitus causing levels while the smoke machine turns on filling the discotheque slowly with kerosene fog.

Carla starts to try to feel her way around and get a little handle on this unexpected activity. "A distraction?" She wonders. She continues to weave through the crowd and find the source of what is happening. "Wait, I know!" She blinks her eyes a couple of times, trying to find a semblance of something amiss through the fog.

"Only if he OD'd on metal being jammed into this chest" Brigitte manages to reply to Hawker before there is suddenly a lot of very loud music. Grimacing at the pain, she pulls a pistol out from under her jacket and covers one ear at least with the other hand. "Find where the music is coming from!" she yells, hoping people will hear her. "We need to switch it off!!"

Hawker is going to pull that disposable sub gun when Brigi pulls her gun. "Better plan...let’s just get the fuck out of here!" He shouts...because suddenly, he has visions of getting hamstringed...again.

"Brigitte watch out! Something is moving towards you!" Carla warns. "Some kind of...undead thingy. Erm, forgive my terminology." Carla keeps her eyes on the lumpy carpet thing. She's got her hand hovering over her bag in case whatever it is strikes. "There. Along the ground!"

The thing came from the coat check area they went through. Its an ambush.

A heavy rattling noise is heard as something that looks like a snake or maybe a chain wrap around Brigitte’s leg and tries to pull her to the ground. Luckily it didn’t knock her down but the thing has broken glass, little nails, and blood all over it. It rips through her pant leg doing 1 lethal and hurting like a bitch as it wraps up her calf.

Hawker is going to begin closing on Brigitte...whilst blasting away at...something, a quick salvo of bullets hammers out. "If you got flares..." He says to Carla, somehow...damn calm about this. "Once I can get Brigitte free..." If he can figure out -how- to do that.

That hurt!! Brigitte grits her teeth as her calf is ravaged. And then she has to duck as Hawker blasts away. But she manages to get her pistol aimed to the lump and fires. The sound of metal on metal is not really something she wants to hear. "Might not be any flesh and blood!" she warns the others over the thumping music.

"Brige! Come on let's get it off!" She gets close enough to try and pry it with her hands. "No, we need something to break the chain." Carla observes. "Shame I don't have an axe or something on me..." Carla sighs and tries to look at what she's got to work with besides the oversized pistol and a pair of flat tops.

Out of the fog comes what looks like a man wrapped in layers of bloody rags, like a homeless man. his limbs are imperfect and his head only seems to be one because it’s on the top of its body with eyeholes that look like random slits where the eyes would be. Its only sound is that of scrapping metal as another chain whips up and wraps around Brigitte’s throat.

The chains seem to come out of its wrists and are then expertly wielded by its hands which have a random number of fingers that seem to change no matter when you look.

Hawker grunts as he feels a bullet deflect off metal, and dig into his side...well, grazing it. Pain is pushed aside as he lashes out...not to try and...kill whatever this golem like thing is...No, he's going to try and free Brigitte. Though his hands are gloved, that ink is responding, and judging from the lovely mix of English and Russian cursing...Hawker -might- be annoyed. "Carla, go to my ride and pop the trunk or something. There's uh...stuff." That might mean ILLEGAL AS FUCK equipment.

Carla nods to Hawker. "Right! But..." She looks over at Brigitte. "Okay, I'll go get whatever it is in was in the trunk! Hold on!" Carla runs like hell over to the trunk of the car. Faster than would be expected even. It doesn't help that she isn't entirely sure what she's looking for but she makes a valiant effort in any case.

Brigitte drops her pistol and grabs at the barbed chain around her ankle. It hurts...a lot...but she manages to tear it asunder even as her hands are shredded in doing so. "Everyone out!" she suggests...strongly...to the others. If only to rearm.

Carla dashes over to the car, not stopping to catch her breath, pops open Hawker's trunk and grabs all the various crud she can carry. She runs back as quickly as she can. She doesn't even really identify or register what they are in the time she has. Carla looks quite flustered by the time she comes back. "I have no idea what this stuff is or what it's supposed to do but I hope to God that it can do something ANYTHING to help." She hands the things off to Hawker.

The ragged man drops the broken chains and pulls out a meat cleaver and what looks A lot like a trimmer shear that was broken in half. It dives at hawker going for his jugular. Luckily for hawker it just ends up slamming the cleaver into the tile wall behind him. About 4 inches deep.

Hawker will toss the damn Tec-9 aside after he runs close to serious injury...again...his eyes are dancing with madness. He even moves to unzip his leather jacket a bit, because he for a moment considered tearing it off. "Molotovs in the bag." He says, grabbing the -real- toy from Carla when she's darting back...even as they go out. "I will keep it...occupied, burn it down!" He says...and takes a stick mag from the stock, something with red paint on it, and locks and loads...the notion Hawker is going to remain completely level during this? Nope. Time to unload on this mother fucker! Brigitte might get a brief second to realize, he smacked in a variant of Frag-12!

Oddly the thing doesn’t chase them out of the club. The music stops when they are outside.

Brigitte retrieves her pistol from the floor and beelines for the outside, dragging Hawker with her if need be. "No burning down public places you fucking idiot" she hisses at the man. And this guy works for God? Now she's convinced she should be an atheist. "I will put a bullet through your brain if you fire that thing." Just to prove her point, she jams the barrel of her pistol against his buttocks - can't miss his brain from that distance.

Hawker scowls when he has a gun pointed at his -butt-. "Well I don't see -A lot- of options other then extreme firepower...not like...a club that bad should be allowed to exist." He says and grins a bit. "Sides...do you have a -better- idea?"

As far as they know whatever just happened is over.

Brigitte has heard plenty of rumors about Hawker but seeing him in action brings whole new levels of disbelief. "We'll seal it off. It's not the fucking club's fault, it's whatever the hell is in there. And if we don't figure out what that is, all we could be doing by blowing up the club is letting it out. She gets on her phone to organise some security and find out who owns this club - they may know something too. "You have a lot of money, Hawker? Somehow. Want to own a club? If the owner is alive and innocent then we'll see what we can do about completely securing the area."

Hawker rolls his shoulders a bit at the question. "I could probably get my lawyer to speed along anything...but I mean...we could go in with flame throwers or something..."

Brigitte is really doing her best not to shoot Hawker. "Go check the other exits, Hawker. Make sure they're locked up, I'll give Ira a call." With that she summons the Thulean and relates their problem - club filled with metal/organic creatures that aren't bothered with getting shot and like to wrap their sharp chains around humans; the things don't seem in a hurry to come out so we might be able to seal it off for now; no blowing up the building! Not until we can get away with it and/or we know what we're dealing with.

Hawker will check other exits...hopefully the windows are intact...doors? He'll use pipe to jam them shut, leaving the front door easy to cover...hopefully. He's still looking ready to just hose the entire club with explosives mind and see what happens. "We could get White Phos...that shit burns through metal plates..."

Another person that Brigitte rang is Webb...precisely because he /is/ a cop and can therefore secure the area if need be. And he'll probably come along with Ira anyway. She quickly explains over the phone - club filled with metal/organic creatures that aren't bothered with getting shot and like to wrap their sharp chains around humans; the things don't seem in a hurry to come out so we might be able to seal it off for now; no blowing up the building!

The club in question is a discotheque that’s been closed for years. now it’s the place that teens come to break bottles, smoke weed, and get tetanus. Oh and apparently for guys to get murdered.

Hawker will eventually end up waiting with Brigitte...smoking a Pallmall, holding his AA-12...pointed towards the ground. "I think the case file should be called Terminators or something...Termination of the MurderClub Bandits."

Ira carpools with Webb, and he's brought his laptop with him. He's on it even now, using his phone as a wifi hotspot, and he's looking up what he can on the information Brigitte gave him during their brief call. "So now we've got bloody Decepticons tearing up a club? It's a good thing I settled down." Mutter grumble grumble. He studies better if he's continuing a stream of low-level complaining.

Henry's come armed only with his pistol, his abilities, and his faithful companion Peach. Peach is grumbly at having to leave her pups, and let’s Webb know with a stream of rumbling complaint. "They'll be fine," he tells her.

Brigitte rolls her eyes at the grumbling pair...and grumbling dog! "I think it's something combining metal and flesh and trying to run the result as if it were a living thing. Possibly alien? Demonic? Usual suspects really. Could even be a computer virus gone crazy. Bullets, like with anything metal, don't do a lot but put dents in it. We need to rip into it with a chainsaw or something...though I wouldn't be surprised if one of these things had a chainsaw as part of it. Maybe a metal virus to weaken it? Dunno, Ira, that's why you're here."

Hawker is going to keep smoking...and listening...in case things break out. "You know I do have anti armor rounds for this baby...I mean do we -really- want to get close to those things?" He says, glancing at Brigitte. "It likes to grapple people...and try to take off heads. At least if we use anti armor rounds and it works..."

"There was a body in there that might have been going through transformation" Brigitte adds. "It had something through his chest...like a long ice pick or one of those computer spikes that you see in science fiction movies." A nod to the door of the club. "Poke a camera inside for a look if you like, Ira. But it does like loud music."

Also...since Webb is here...Hawker makes it a point to put on Dragon Skin, like he just has to annoy him. "Give me the Cam? I'm going to see what HEAP does to this fucker." He says. Maybe Webb will approve!

Ira looks at his computer, his notes, and tries to think, but, "I don't even know if it's some kind of cyborg." With a shrug, he adds, "If it runs on electricity, maybe water will hurt it."

"Or something electrically based. Try an' overload it," Henry suggests, mildly. "This doesn't sound like anything I ever encountered."

Hawker fortunately, has Dragon Skin, which means it's easy to rig cameras up to it <Also he has duct tape...and all, and the like>. Once he's got a camera well situated to be viewed from the laptop, he'll begin the routine of tossing glow sticks in to the club. "On the off chance things come rushing out...firebomb everything, right?" He teases the others before using his AA-12 to nudge the door open and ...let’s see if things are visible from the front door, shall we?

When hawker goes in the thermal cams don’t show much heat. some blood still warm on the floor, a few rats, what Ira is pretty sure is a possum. but nothing nefarious. The kerosene fog has mostly dissipated.

Brigitte finds a position she can cover Hawker as he enters the club - and also put a bullet into his skill if he gets infected...or possessed...or starts shooting grenades everywhere. "Getting anything on the camera, Ira?"

"Not a lot of heat in the club," he says. "Cooling pools of what I assume are blood, what I'm pretty sure is a marsupial and nothing else. If they're in there, they're not giving off any heat. I could download a night vision app for my phone..."

The only thing that really stands out is the broken lengths of chain they left on the floor which isn’t really warm in fact they are almost icy cold. and the dead guy.

"Also," Ira adds, "I see some cool spots. The broken lengths of chain are like ice. There's a dead body that seems to have gone colder than the rest of the room. Maybe because of being killed with the chains."

Up close the chains look like they are just normal home depot chains but they have clumps of rotted blood holding on nails and bits of broken glass. Miriam might wanna get those injuries cleaned.

Hawker is going slow, tactical training is kicking in, he'll use one hand to snap and toss another glow stick. "Right...dead guy is cold...should I pop ‘em?"

Nothing supernatural pops up. In fact the chains and body are slowly going room temp.

Hawker will begin to move further in, hopefully Brigitte has his six. "I'm going to check for a fucking basement or liquor storage area." He informs them...and will do just that, though he keeps his distance from the corpse. If it's infected...watch it go all Dead Space 3.

Brigitte takes a couple of steps forward, wincing at the pain of her leg - she'll need to get that seen to. "I can't cover you if you wander off like that, Hawker" she warns him. "This is info gathering, don't go and die on us."

He finds a back room. Ira sees something very odd though. Something so cold its registering black on thermal. A small rectangle under the ash tray in front of the dead guy. about the size of a business card.

"Hawker," Ira says in a warning tone that for once isn't directed at something Hawker's doing, "You've got a serious cold spot under the ashtray in front of the corpse. It's about the size of a business card. Proceed with caution. It's highly endothermic."

Hawker will stop when Ira warns him and look at the corpse. "Roger that..." He says, raising his AA-12...to put a single round in its head. He's -really- not taking chances. Assuming it doesn't go Dead Space 3, then he can get closer!

Also to the annoyance of all, one of his ear buds has Disturbed on, because if you are going to potentially get torn apart by Necromorph cyborgs...you better have good music for it.

The business card is obscured by the ash tray but easy enough to see if you move it. Its jet black and looks like it’s made of ink that’s been turned into paper. Silver letters spell out in elegant script 'Canebrake & Courtland, Attorneys at Law.' it even has an address and phone number under that. The IR camera isn’t picking up it radiating cold at all. It’s just like a hole in the ambient energy.

Hawker will collect the card and begin to back pedal out. "Let’s go make a visit." He announces...at this point, Hawker likely just -assumes- the Attorneys are at fault. They made him get hurt by a ricochet...and he's all keyed up. "Ira can drive!" He announces, almost -giddy- about it.

"You're not bringing that thing into Henry's car til I know what it is," Ira replies. "Just take down the address and phone number. Try calling them first." There he goes being all not wanting to get possessed or killed.

Brigitte makes sure the door is shut and sealed behind Hawker before she looks at what he brought out. A shake of her head - normal reaction with Hawker. "Let's hope that card isn't the actual /cause/ of all this. Otherwise you just let it out in the world. Ira, you want to see what you can find out about this firm? And you just want to go charging in there, Hawker? How are you still alive?"

"You might not be wrong," Ira says. "The card is a thermal black hole. It's hard to describe. There's just a hole there. No color, nothing."

Hawker rolls his shoulders then flexes for Brigitte. "Because I am a highly trained soldier? I also have A lot of connections. Sides...god told me I can't die yet." He says before collecting the Tec-9 too...not that he has to worry about the AA-12 discharge...The Lord Provides, ain't much way to trace a purchase for a shell that wasn't ever manufactured! "Think the FPD is going to have to shut this place down...bad for the community. Drug deals...violence...and an unfortunate fuse box incident that caused some really bad interior fire damage..." He says and glances over at Ira. "What...so ...we put in a cement block, throw it in the ocean?" Hawker isn't disturbed by the fact he has a card of doom...

A quick google search brings up several cases on some paranoid sites about government cover ups and monsters. Apparently, this firm has been around for like 200 years now popping up around the world. Everyone who’s ever gone to them for 'services' ends up dead.

"I'm not calling these people," Ira says with his most wet-blanketest primness. "Everyone who hires them ends up dead. They show up on more paranoid supernatural-chaser sites than they do the yellow pages." He shakes his head. "No, we contain that thing somehow and study it or we blow it up." The stories get weirder if you look at the really paranoid sites. Monsters show up around these guys all the time. bad ones. The kind that TFV carpet bombs cities to get rid of.

"Sounds like all those 'lucky' people went to them as well. Gotta wonder how they get word of mouth references" Brigitte frowns with Ira's information before looking over at Hawker. "Hand it over. That things going to the Society so we can study it for magical attributes. And I suggest you burn those gloves." Brigitte produces a sealable plastic evidence bag and holes it open for the card. "Cough it up and you can set a fire in the club...small one...and I'm calling the Fire Department after five minutes."

Hawker -almost- looks like he won't hand it over. Almost. Then he does. "I'll toss ‘em into the club." He says and grins a bit. "Though come on...can't we like...sneak the card to the Mafia, and see if they end up destroying themselves?" He asks...even as he...you know, gets ready to toss gloves in the front door of the club...and looks at the jerry can in the trunk...small is relative, right? "Honestly...I think we should just let this place burn. Even by my standards, it's a scummy place and probably used for frat boys gang banging chicks they roofied. That shit is wrong..." Maybe he'll find a way to get the Death Card back to drop on unfortunate rivals.

Ira goes quiet as he reads more, and his already pale complexion loses what color it has. "Onlookers, I imagine," he says when his can find his voice again, faint and a little shaken. "Monsters show up around these people. I'm not talking about the kind we deal with here, and those are bad enough. These are the kind where the Valkyries destroy the city to save it." When Brigitte says to hand over the card, he visibly relaxes. "All right, then are we good to leave? Before the fire department shows?"

Brigitte seals up the bag once the card is inside it. What Ira is saying does not make her happy. "Yep, Ira, you get out of here now. Do you research at home, okay? Keep us informed. As soon as Hawker gets off on his arson tendencies, we'll be on our way too."

Hawker will soon give in to arson...but he does stage it to look like an electrical fire, so there is that. He'll either offer to drive Brigi home...or likely she'll just refuse, but he'll wait to make sure no one is left behind, also to restash his kit!

"I'll let you know what I come up with," Ira says, and he packs up his stuff to get the hell out of Dodge. "Thank you, Brigitte," he says soulfully. Hawker-wrangling isn't an easy job.

Of course Brigitte will ride back with Hawker. She has to make sure he leaves and doesn't stop off on the way to blow up a school bus. The Fire Department is on speed dial but she will give him the five minutes of staring at flames.

Hawker is easy to wrangle, you just need to direct him at things to destroy. Though he doesn't actually watch the flames...this was part of an actual cover up, contrary to popular belief. Sides...he already knows Brigi will gibbs smack him if he waits to long!