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The Hydrus Hit

 
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VikiChylde
The Seer
Old Wyrm
Old Wyrm


Joined: 16 Jan 2006
Posts: 512
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Jobs: Performer, Astrologer
Can Be Found: But home is nowhere.
2218.18 Silver Crowns

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PostPosted: Thu May 26, 2011 3:33 pm    Post subject: The Hydrus Hit Reply with quote

( Author's Note: This is a cleaned-up log of the assassination attempt. I tried my very best to portray what made sense. If you feel you would like to add/edit anything, please PM me!! xo. )

The back door gave way with a sigh that the seer wore with familiarity. In crept the night, lukewarm. It clung to her clothes like perfume, earth musk. Someone had given care to her appearance, tended to her wild curls, rinsed her face and mended her clothes. Patchwork still called for strange eyes, yet did not reveal what should remain sheltered. Skinny fingers clutched a stone, ruby red, token from a dreamgirl. Was she here? The seer chased her memory.

The violin case was clutched tightly, as another young girl moved onto into the Red Dragon Inn. The blue eyes turned left and right, as a soft little smile came across her lips. She seemed innocent enough, even as she wasn't quite sure where to go. It seemed a booth was taken up, and the curtain drawn closed.

Disappointment stole the shape of her mouth. She was not here. But ahh. Off-blue beheld the Hunter, devoid of cat. Other faces were plucked from the crowd, caressed, and given names. Erin and the like. She knew the one called Rachael, but not by name. Distant dream conversation made of broken moons and sad, sad stories. The seer remembered indeed.

Emerging quietly, with fists in pockets and petulant scowl in place, Mesteno parked himself back at the table, occasionally dabbing at his split lip with the back of his hand. A sip of Marnier pained it like a wasp sting. That was not a happy sound he made, however, he did dip his head to her, when he saw her.

The seer seen, as a look of surprise took form. It had felt a lifetime since Brian Ravenlock had seen her last. A respectful nod offered indeed, coupled with a warm smile for the gifted one.

A gentle E-chord came from the booth, as the girl inside tuned her instrument. She played with the tuning pegs, adjusting the neck-rest and tweaking the strings; replacing the old with the new to attain that higher sound quality she so sought to achieve.

Where, oh where, was the dreamgirl? Viki would craft her a present, should she choose to return. And thus continue their strange courtship, full of stares that spoke volumes, and bright warnings for the ones they partnered with. But then the bar-back demanded her attention. Every day, a glass parade. She half waved at Brian. Look'it, said the upturned chin. I have returned. Brian smiled.

The sound from the booth, albeit a simple chord, drew Victor's attention easily. His flesh eye drifted that way as he ripped the cork from the bottle with his teeth and spat it toward the waste bin. He could tell rather quickly it was going to miss, however, and vaporized it instead with a beam from the synthetic.

Viki was all legs and arms at the point of a barstool, pretty thing encased with far too much color. Was there a tender? She whipped a whisper to the countertop, then, as if satisfied, sat proper.

Next came quite the pentatonic chord progression, plucked more like a guitar than a violin. It seems the girl inside was testing the new set of newly acquired strings, to its ultimate. From behind the curtain, a soft little giggle came.

A spin around on the stool left the seraph facing the room, leaning back against the bar with a couple inches of each silver wing poking out from his back to prop him up. The dark green bottle raised to his lips, and his eyes closed with that first sip. The taste always brought back a memory, one that must have been powerful indeed. This time, however, the reverie was broken by the music behind the curtain. Victor's gaze, human and machine, locked in on what had caught his ears, staring straight toward Henrietta. He did not, however, attempt to pierce the curtain with his mana eye's modulation.

Off-blue clipped Victor, just his shoulder, just a second. Something could be stolen there, something small, and hidden, and prized. A secret of a song. A rumor of a rhyme. The girl pressed her grin into her mouth as the other molested a strange red stone.

Victor settles into a pattern of looking around the Inn, sipping from the glass of scotch in his hand. Occasionally he focuses on one conversation, only to move on to the sound of violin notes, then another conversation, an easy smile on his lips.

Whatever came out of the booth next, behind its concealing curtain, was nothing but a symphonic melody of Ave Maria. Of course, there was the moment where the music was not quite right, but you have to forgive the young hands guiding the instrument. She was not entirely sure on the next page of script.

The synthetic eye swiveled in its socket toward that shoulder, too far to make sense, and independently of its flesh counterpart that did not move at all. The bottle in his hand slung low.

"...good evening to you too."

Meanwhile, a flickering red light pulsed with the music from behind the curtain. Recording, maybe?

“Footed eye.” That whisper swam between the spaces of skinny fingers, claiming sound, coursing into the open air. She couldn't have held it if she tried. Momentarily enthralled, she stretched closer, feet pining for the legs of the barstool, losing their shoes.

“We will See.” (Of good evenings.)

The odd words were enough for that eye to start scanning, although only as a precaution. Victor’s wrist panel gave no alerts, and he sipped from the bottle once more before speaking.

"A machine... like much of me. But fear not, there is a man within as well." With that, he smiled darkly, chuckling at what seemed to be a memory. "...and this night, as any, is what you make it."

A practical portrayal of perfection, a play put on by practiced performers, perpetually prepared. It's the typical portal, the place preferred for entrance. For once, it's the wrong white hand: silk and black silk the start of this act, leading along the co-star, the one he'll eventually hang somewhere safe. Tonight, Fafnir is the white of full moons, the bolt of silk about lean hips, flesh like alabaster. His color is carvings created in crypts for kings, pharaohs: the wide collar draped over clavicles the shades of red, of gold, of turquoise. Bare feet beat wooden boards once inside, smile riding high on aristocratic glory.

Gideon followed in the shadow's wake, drawn hand by hand along, more than pleased to follow his shadow's wake as if light shone from behind, and he chased. Nothing could compare, not to that exquisite creature, and the way the shallow pool of cold eyes trailed the perfect back of the being spoke it in volumes that could fill a hundred libraries. If it was possible to be outshone by one's dark reflection, it happened then.

A game played, follow the leader: the hearth and its heat, what little there was left. Fafnir skirted and edged, hemmed and hawed, finally stopped himself at the couch. It's considered with eyes that eat, gobble down goodies, child greedy. A finger points, rude and demanding. His instance is perhaps part of his charm, the shoving of bullies on playgrounds.

Obliging smile Gideon capitulated, sank onto the couch demanded with a quiet chuckle, claiming the cushion as if it had always been his, long arms resting outward over the back of the couch and stiffly over the armrest, knees bent at angles as he regarded Fafnir. Were there others present? Hard to say in the eclipsing presence of that perfect monster.

Viki’s heart rattled its chambers, banged on the bars of its cage. Her hands fell there, center stage, as if to coax it still. Confusion painted small lines to her softness, curtailed youth. She frowned, then blinked, lashes seeding small kisses to the tops of her unpowdered cheeks. Gypsy thing, they said, but she looked well kept tonight. Eyes followed the spark of sound, but knew he was not the catalyst for this temporary heartache. Something was near..

“Metal beasts, I know the names of some Machines. Did naut know one might wear one over-face, like a'mask.”

A smile thrown, as careful as carefree could allow. “It is pretty. “ The night. The eye. Who knew?

The music continued, growing louder with the confidence of the player. Even the curtains seemed to sway with the unseen influence behind. Then, it suddenly died away. But only returned it seemed, from the very top. It appears the poor little player doesn't know how to play beyond the mid-point.

Shaking his head, Victor laughed softly and tapped his own cheek, then scratched an itchy bit of stubble on his chin.

"No beast here... at least, I'd hope not. Just a product of the war machine's greatest investments... with a few improvements." The last came with a wink. "I'd curse it had it not saved my life so many times... and were it not so beloved by my Nischa."

“ Neesh-ah?” New word, new taste. She would have it, between teeth, under tongue, chewed up by her red little mouth.

“Lover?” A guess. Clearly pretty things were for lovers, or dreamgirls, wherever Aoife was hiding. Did this one know? Did his assets? She would ask the eye her well kept questions, but a wineglass reminded her of manners. She peered at him a while, with the unrivaled innocence of a tourist, or child. She could be both. “It is a good thing, then?”

The blinking light on Victor’s wrist panel came to a stop with the music from the back of the room. The seraph's head tilted slightly, but when it began again, he smiled knowingly. The rest of the song was already loaded into his databank, but it was beyond him to intrude. Instead he kept listening and kept drinking.

Indeed," he spoke quietly to the seemingly nervous lady who clutched the wine glass. "My Siren, my Queen. And anything that brings light to her eyes is very much a good thing." With a soft laugh, he shrugged after a moment. "Without it, perhaps we'd have never come all this way."

Viki’s heart rebelled, all broken with need, rattling, clamoring for her attention. The aqua stare leapt from the eye and the one who wielded it to circle her fallen shoes, and then scattered, crawling across the commons as if they had feet of their own. Abrupt stop. The Shadow in all of his merry glory, kissed by rich fabric, ornamented and beautiful. She felt her pulse quicken to boil.

Ahh, but the eye-wielder was speaking of siren-queens. She forced a smile, and a slow hum of a lovesong. “'Tis.”

That ever-vigilant eye was back upon her quickly, however. The heat signatures from a pounding heart were among the first anomalies it was programmed to see. It was, after all, often used to triage trauma patients on a battlefield. "...are you unwell?"

Options laid before Fafnir, worshippers to be admired. Black eyes stared and smiled, followed by the tombstone white of teeth. He moves: oil over water, slithering slow like sharks cruising over coral reefs. Everything bites. Hands curled in upholstery, muscles drawing him forward and down. Silk pooled and poured, gathered between thighs straddled; face to face, where attention could arrow where it belonged. Right here. Right now.

Breath was a needless, useless thing, it created fences, built walls were none were needed. Gideon’s head tilted back to watch Fafnir, that slow spill of ink and snow that could never be imitated poured over himself. Hands rose of their own accord -was this not why people lifted arms toward the heavens to worship?- and framed that face in fingers and thumbs that stroked high cheekbones. Nothing if not bold he lent forward, bit a kiss to that chin as he smiled upward endlessly, drew Fafnir down to whisper against his ear.

Viki was a smattering of anomalies, stretched through her skin and singing in that slender frame, carting youth. She held tight to the grinning face of Fafnir, the smooth lines of Gideon's back. She had a secret for him. A plethora. Would he accept if she were to hand them over? Rings? Bended knees? Her nose twitched, and she was suddenly more cat than girl. Cool slink back to her conversing companion.

“I am naut. It is, as you say, 'good evening.'”

"Hmm..." A pause, a slow sip of the absinthe, then a slick smile that a serpent lord would envy. "I see... something you're after? Maybe it's arrived, and you're anxious?" Another sip, and that mechanical eye began to move from person to person. "Waiting for the right moment, maybe?"

“What is your name?” Viki beheld the stranger and his eye again, moreso the eye. Fingers traced its shape into the countertop, eventually into the red stone that sat in the other hand. She must not look at the Shadow, for he says she pulls, and whines, or was it pines? The words were jumbled, caught up in her hair. No brambles there, not tonight. Curls needed company.

“I am naut After. It is more like Before.” The arrival is not mentioned. This one could not have her secrets.

From within the booth, the young girl adjusted her uniform. Even as the music kept playing - looping over and over again. She adjusted the golden wrist-bracelets so that they were affixed correctly. Pressing the two purple gems located within the metal so that they both simply 'blinked' in a silent unison with the other. Next, she slammed in the clips into the two twin silver fully automatic machine-gun G18 pistols, and, with a silent resolve, pushed out of the curtains of the booth. One arm drew a perfect line of sight to one Edward Batten, while another aimed for someone completely different. Viki. The young girl pulled the triggers, letting loose a hail of fully automatic fire.
_________________
Victoria Alexandra Chylde

I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music
And it breaks my heart - Regina Spektor
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VikiChylde
The Seer
Old Wyrm
Old Wyrm


Joined: 16 Jan 2006
Posts: 512
See this user's pet
Jobs: Performer, Astrologer
Can Be Found: But home is nowhere.
2218.18 Silver Crowns

Items

PostPosted: Thu May 26, 2011 3:35 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Icer’s muscles twitched as gaze drifted, before charging the shooter.

"DOWN!" Victor's eye saw the guns raising in bullet-time, and he moved at nearly the speed of light. Wings extended as he seized Viki from her barstool and wrapped around the two like a cocoon just as the bullets themselves arrived. Within a second they both crashed into the wall, but Victor ensured the young lady was shielded - by his own body.

The Assassin was prepared. As she stopped her fire upon Viki, did, her wrist flick out, releasing a dark wicked band that moved to wrap around Icer's neck. She might recognize the design, as it flew to collar her once more.

Icer snarled as the band wrapped around her neck, wings flapping and flaring…

The sudden staccato burst of automatic weapons fire made 'Taya jump, instinctively crouching to hide behind Mesteno. What? He's more used to the whole violent side of reality than she is.

Mesteno didn't mind being used as a meat shield, though she couldn't have picked a narrower one! He turned, curled himself around Mataya and dragged her down into the floor.

And the bombs burst in air? It was all too fast. Viki sank into her color shield, into the curve of the eye-wielder. Her heart still roared. It was still for the Shadow.

The gunfire caught Wolvinator's attention instantly as it rung out, causing him to crouch for a moment before leaping back behind the bar and pulling a weapon from his holster.

Mataya let out a yelp in surprise as she suddenly found herself really quite adequately protected by a man who only an hour ago had been sulking over a kiss. But, you know, safety first ... She curled up tight on the floor, lifting her head to seek for Jon, hoping like hell he wasn't in the line of fire.

Ice blue eyes narrowed as Icer tried aiming her horns towards the would be assassin’s hands.

Such words are beautiful things, things loved and cherished - but certain sounds garner attention. Black eyes slither and slide, arms tightening a grasp about Gideon instinctively, body thickening to black mass, swallowing shadows that could eat secrets, much less steel. The Shadow stretched and slither, spread himself thin.

There is a dark ranger. Bullets bounce off of him like hailstones off a statue as he raises a gauntlet towards the gunfire's origin, the pulse generator already whining. A moment later he looses a blast of kinetic energy at the booth.

Both G18's were twirled around her fingers as the kinetic blast flew towards the young girl. Blue eyes narrowed, as the other wrist moved out, allowing the second bracelet to raise and counter the next attack. Although she was violently pushed back into the booth, the kinetic energy crushing the violin case that displayed a tape-recorder - from which the music now ceased, a shimmering crystalline orb pulsed about her, as the blast rolled around its spherical shape. The girl stood firm, and then lifted her guns again towards the dark ranger, releasing again a harmless hail of bullets, it seems. But her eyes turned to Icer. The collar sent a shock through Icer's body.

"Further aggressive action will reveal nothing of value. I will kill the Dragon, if I must." She's taken a hostage it seems.

Without pausing, the dark ranger moves, ignoring anyone at the bar and leaping over it to the patron side with sudden whining roar of the thrusters in his boots. The leap throws him into the middle of the room, where he lands in a crouch, looking at the now not-so-harmless little girl. Under the armor, he's pissed, but they'll work that out later. Another hand comes up, the upcycling whine heard again as the point of pulsing light appears in his hand.

"I bet I can get through your little shield before you can do it. Let the dragon go."

Wolvinator, popping up from behind the bar with a pistol drawn, aimed down the barrel at the assassin, zeroing in before he decided to squeeze off a round.

Victor was immobilized for a moment, nanomachines in his blood working overtime to recover from the concussion. Were it not for the bone reinforcement in his skull, it would have been crushed in the impact. Still, his arms and wings held fast around the lady he'd swiped from the barstool.

So now she was a lady? The barstool cackled, soft metallic laughs in its legs, in the way it swayed as Victor crouched and shielded the seer. If she was a normal girl, she might've have really fallen then, and not just as a victim of gravity (which she grappled with, over and over!). Eyes peeled around the man, chiseling away his odds and ends until she caught sight of the assassin. Her face did not have a name. Viki sucked in a whine and crept close to Victor, her fingers itching for the knives she had sewn somewhere between patches of color.

Mesteno scowled at the interruption to an otherwise pleasant evening. He remained there stooped over her while the bullets tore overhead. He was loathe to abandon the action, but with someone requiring protection, lingering wasn't wise. Shadows came slip-sliding across the floor, rose up like smoke, and abruptly swallowed the pair up. Poor Mataya would have to suffer a moment of disorienting, perfect black, nothing beneath her feet and breath stealing cold, before the shadows abruptly spat them out on the porch.

The darkness came at a moment when she should have taken a breath, leaving her struggling as they reappeared on the porch. The actress slumped, gasping and shivering, her eyes wild with shock at what had just happened. Forget the gunfire ... "Was that magic?"

Well, Mesteno wasn't going to find it easy to explain that one away. The shadows seeped back to where the light should have cast them, and he smoothed a palm over the woman's shoulder with a gentleness which seemed ill-fitting.

"Nothing to worry about. Stay out of the inn..or head home." And Mesteno, he went back indoors.

With another snarl, Icer was lunging again, surely she could reach.

The assassin’s eyes narrow on Icer's attempt. She flipped up, and landed upon the horn, aiming her guns down the maw from whence the sharp, pointy object came. "Silence yourself, Dragon. Do not make me destroy you."

Icer snarled again, eyes narrowed.

Night was kind to Aoife this evening. It allowed glimpses of the stars through thin cloud puffs of reflected white. The stars were like stories, whispered to the skies to keep like secrets. But what of it when they fell? Would they sound like the pop! of a shooting gun when they landed? Or the arrival of people spat out by shadows down the way from where she'd settled?

Aoife’s quiet lean was interrupted when she shifted against the railing at the far end of the porch. Her attention drifted from the spill of the couple whom she didn't recognize from that distance to the commotion coming from the inside.

Gideon tensed, with both the riot of gunfire and the prick of hard claws, that endlessly constricting tunnel of adoration suddenly gone with the riot of gunfire and the cacophony that followed. Bullets were nothing to be feared, though, little inconveniences, though Fafnir hid him well. He shifted, glanced over the shoulder of the other, dark brows drawn together, more curious than irritated at the moment.

Watch this: a moment of madness, black eyes wandering wide. "A child, Gideon," the Shadow says, before he started to detach and unravel: half of himself he left with his anchor. The rest? It stretched - skewed and grew. Skull splintering and teeth bared, the Shadow went on all fours - hands and eyes, the latter rolling horse wild, mouths ready to beg for secrets.

There was a lot going on, and a lot of individuals engaged. For the moment, the Admiral, Wolvinator, allowed the other's to handle the situation as he weapon remained trained on the assassin.

Eyes opened, wings slowly split their protective shell, and Victor's head rose no worse for the wear aside from a slight pour of blood through the silver of his hair. "What the hell..."

Blue eyes stared back down at the Dragon, while her attention drew her back towards the bar.

"Surrender the Seer to me."

The dark ranger doesn't care if it's a child, it just shot the place up with two full-auto SMGs. The figure seems to consider that, then shakes his head at the little girl.

"Not acceptable." The other palm comes up, and as one he looses a pair of concussive sonic blasts at the girl.

“Sorry about the eardrums, Icer, this may hurt a bit.”

Icer hissed as the collar gave her a zap then, cursing again in draconic. Surely a little ear pain would be acceptable, if it rid her of the assassin.

The mana eye went first to Viki. "Are you ..." he left the question unfinished, as she was already moving.

“I am.” The answer grew into a growl, for there, at the bend of shoulder was a sleek red line. Small graze. It wept crimson. She charted a course for the nearest sanctuary, and heard the would-be killer's call for her surrender.

One after another, bullets were expelled from the seraph's body, landing in little pools of blood as the wounds began to close. Seventeen in all, some smashed to pieces against mithranium bone. Victor's mana eye lined up the shooter, and its light turned from blue to a dangerous red.

"Stay behind me... I won't let another strike you, you have my word." Victor spoke quietly, extending a wing outward toward Viki. Then his attention was taken by the bizarre creature, Fafnir, that was charging the would-be assassin.

Her knight in shining armor, all eyes and teeth. The air pressed electric around the two of them, stranger and strange. Viki kept close, but hung back, still kneading into her patchwork, in search. Tiny blades, extra extensions, where were they? Bloody mess of things. It's her party and she could cry if she wanted to.

"So tell me..." Victor smirked, "Attempts like this always have a dummy and a target... which are you, m'lady?"

Wolvinator slowly began to stand from behind the bar, taking note of the actions of the dark ranger. His eyes remaining completely trained on it as it handled the situation.

The Sadist was slinking, subtle as morning fog, keeping low and sideling like some long-legged crab, his back to the wall. There were no weapons in his hands, but that didn't mean a great deal of anything in Rhy'Din.

The spit of stones and their tinkling knocking caught Aoife’s attention as well. So much for her to pay attention to. Distraction was singing tonight. A linger of her curiosity on another woman outside before she was looking form the outside in again.

Behind the kitchen door a cylinder rattles quietly, six rounds dropping into an outstretched hand, then one round replaced in the cylinder. "Icer." Alain calls it sternly as he kicks the door wide open, hoping to get her attention and unwittingly hold still for a moment in the process.

A blink, and Gideon came out of twin comas of Fafnir's influence and the shock of the turmoil the inn had become, he rose, moved quick, unthinking impulse and surged off the couch, toward the bar, swept Viki up in an arm and pulled her close, easy thing to manage all skinny arms, legs and patchwork, before he dove for the hearth again and crouched behind the couch, urchin tucked against himself.

Ahh, but there came the unlikely hero. Cold, callous Gideon. So many arms to run to, and his were the ones that wrapped! Tucked, the seer let loose a gasp of surprise. Clearly, this was unexpected.

“Gideon..”

He glared at her. "You. Urchin. Are more trouble than you are worth." Subtle bite of a thumb that stroked the bleeding slit of her skin, closed flesh.
_________________
Victoria Alexandra Chylde

I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music
And it breaks my heart - Regina Spektor
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message Send e-mail Visit poster's website
VikiChylde
The Seer
Old Wyrm
Old Wyrm


Joined: 16 Jan 2006
Posts: 512
See this user's pet
Jobs: Performer, Astrologer
Can Be Found: But home is nowhere.
2218.18 Silver Crowns

Items

PostPosted: Thu May 26, 2011 3:37 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

As Icer moved to snap, so did the assassin flip over the Dragon, moving to aim her G18s at the moving shadow-hell thing coming her way. Whatever it was. It was getting some pretty neat little holes in it, as she hailed a full clip into the damned thing. And, once the clips were empty, a few seconds later, she dipped her hand under her skirt to the hidden ammo-holster, and slammed two new clips into the smoking hot chambers. As the girl tilted her gaze back to the main threat - the dark ranger, so she could catch a blast that completely penetrated her shield. The young body flew into the wall, bones crushing and her head smacking, as down she went onto the ground. But, it would seem, as the kid slowly started to stand, that would not be enough to fully kill this little one. Blue eyes narrowed again to multiple targets.

Holes in walls, light streaming through. The Shadow laughs - a high, wild cry of murder of crows, settling on new corpses - before lunging forward, tongues snarling words out of two mouths. "OnlyI get to torment that wh*re," the Shadow singsonged at the girlchild, four eyes black as the yawning of a gun's barrel.

Alain stretches out his right arm into a straight line and squeezes off a shot, seemingly at Icer's head or neck... but really at the enchanted joint in the collar around her neck. On impact (if it impacts) the slug gives off red arcs, essentially a "dispel" spell in bullet form. Handy thing to have.

Icer grunted as the bullet hit the collar, she watched as it fall, before lowering her horns and charging.

"I've been back for five effin' minutes and I got people already throwin' bullets around..." Seeing as Henrietta was unloading into the... dark ranger, and was now thrown back into the wall, Wolvinator stood tall and also hopped over the bar, yelling over towards her.

"Drop the weapons and put yer hands up darlin' or yer not gonna like the outcome of this situation!"

Okay, maybe that was a little overpowered, but it got the job done. The bullets leave only dents in the armor that - oddly - seem to push themselves back out again as the dark ranger moves forward, putting himself between the girl and the dragon. Already the pulse emitters are emitting that upcycling whine again as he stares her down.

"Last chance."

You heard the man!" Backing up what the dark ranger said, weapon still drawn as Wolvinator continued to move forward towards Henrietta.

Victor looked over his shoulder then to realize she wasn't there. "...Lady?" Now his eye was scanning like mad.

With Icer charging, Fafnir closing in and the stranger with the bullet proof armor 'last chancing' their little shooter, Mesteno was waiting for some God awful collision.

Admiral!" Alain calls off to one side, tossing the revolver recklessly down the back bar since putting it away would take a fraction of a second longer (and the cylinder's now empty), and pulls the Makarov pistol from his hip. He's calling, of course, to Wolvinator.

"When'd you get back from the old folks' home?"

Now, that was one helluva friendly voice to hear him call him by name, or in this case his title. Without removing his eyes from the target, Wolvinator answered the man back, the detective.

"I just beamed in, got people shootin' at us, and you show up. I knew, somehow, that it was you that'd be bringin' trouble in the door.

Blood splattered out of her mouth, as the girl-assassin stumbled forward, her eyes on the hell-thing looking to - she seems, eat her. Her head turned up to the Dark Reaper, her smile a little sour, a little bloodied, but she did lift her guns up to aim at him.

"... It's your fault." The child whispered. Tears streaming down her cheeks. "All of you!"

She screamed. She turned both of the guns under her own chin, her hands shaking violently. "... It's the late end of winter, the snow falls, everything dies... More will come. I hate you for it."

The Shadow laughs at her, face stretched into the widest smile, the smile that cuts his face in half, before he starts to grow.

Viki was all full up of apologies. They were bursting behind her eyes. And even still, she would covet Gideon’s Shadow.

“Your teeth are nuh so sharp, you know.” Teasing, the seer sing-song. She heard the cry of a question, the original hero, but crept close to a single pale arm and kept silent as stone.

There. The same signature, hiding behind the couch. Victor's approach was slow and cautious, the barrier held up to deflect any further shots in his general direction; seventeen bullets was enough for one day.

"You alright down there?"

“Xas-I-am-with-my-friend-Gideon-who-loves-me-so.” Ferocious, feral voice, still cupped by youth. She was missing the show.

Gideon rolled eyes. "Shut the f*ck up." Though she drew a half a smile, or maybe it was just the utter turmoil that surrounded them that made him so pleased. He gathered her in, gave a quiet low long suffering groan at her words and held, trying to listen for the repeat of gunfire, the sound of fight roiling their way.

"PLEASE Shut up?"

Viki sunk a tooth into the pout of a lip, kept the words from reaching his ears. And she let him gather, make a friendly basket of arms and fancy clothes. She would stick to his lap like a child, slinging her arms around his neck, a crushing cling for the one who might throw her from a roof tomorrow. Only time would tell. To his cheek, a stolen kiss. So many women and never a star. There. She would mark him. Bright blister of mouth, touch of the celestial. He smelled like his Shadow.

Gideon hissed at that kiss, would have recoiled from it if he had not already had her held vicegrip tight. That last burst of gunfire had a hand covering her head, tucking her in against him. The scent of her in his nostrils...the anger it brought, cold jealousy, first with Everett now with Fafnir. Still he kept her safe. F*cking chivlary.

She felt that lick of jealousy, like an outlier, a wandering flame from the hearth nearby. Slow, creeping sadness stole away her temporary solace.

“Do naut hate me Gideon. I would dance again.”

The scream distracted Victor, and his flesh eye's confused stare leveled upon the child who now held her guns upon herself. "...what the hell..."

"Whoa, whoa, WAIT!" The dark ranger sees the guns going up under the chin, already moving forward, reaching out for the guns.

"The gun," Wolvinator said, speaking to the female assassin, "Put the gun down. Take it away from yer chin and lower it down. Puttin' a bullet through yer dome ain't gonna solve this problem."

And what do I get? A shadow spills and fire burns: the Beast, Bylah, rose up out of all of it, beartrap maw making motions meant for meals, tongues twining behind too-sharp teeth. A stabbing motion of proud horns, stars singing their song. Entropy stood aside with great patience, watching the child, the massacre in the making. Endlessly patient.

"You know, in a manner of speaking... you'd be right." Alain pulls back the hammer on his gun; he keeps his eyes on Henrietta, though they periodically flicker to other people in the room. The innocents, mostly. The people who could get caught in the crossfire. He takes a step out of the kitchen doorway, spreading his feet behind the bar.

Wolvie motions towards Henrietta, with a gun under her chin, towards Alain. "We can't let it end this way." Speaking to Alain.

"Do it," Bylah tells her, the endless, lineless hands that he holds the worlds with curling their claws. "Mine fires need feeding, and winter has come early."

"If I don't kill one of you, more will come! I have to save them!" She dropped her guns, and moved to embrace the dark reaper. Pushing her face into his stomach.

"... Please forgive us. I-I didn't want to kill anyone but... I don't want to!" Lifted her hand to the back of her neck, and simply, pushed down against something.

Her embrace tightened, "Embrace the Black Flame!" BANG. The girl simply explodes, making a less than a pretty mess on the dark reaper, before the implanted bomb releases it deadly magically enhanced napalm payload.

Alain looks aside for a fraction of a second at Wolvinator's statement, then back at Henrietta.

"Down!" He throws himself down behind the counter as soon as the child embraces the Dark Ranger. Then she explodes. Jesus Christ, just like the last time...

Despite the obvious computer filtering over it, there can be heard the frustration in the underlying man's voice as the dark ranger yells, stumbling as he's splattered with gore.

"Son of a B*TCH!" His arms, which had been moving to grab those pistols, now let go of the slumping form as he backs away.

"Holy sh--" Wolvinator started as the girl exploded, Wolvinator grabbed the edge of a round table and pulled it back to duck behind, protecting himself and anyone behind him.

Fire, fire, ice! Jaws parted as Icer tried to waylay the napalm's path with her own ice.

Disinclined to get splattered by flying, charred bits of little girl all over him, Mesteno dropped behind one of the booths and listened to the splatter of meat as it impacted.

A Black Flame simply, slowly eats away at whatever was left of the assassin. Even her belongings seemed to catch fire, as if they too were laced with the same corrosive stuff. Not even bones were left, within seconds.
_________________
Victoria Alexandra Chylde

I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music
And it breaks my heart - Regina Spektor
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VikiChylde
The Seer
Old Wyrm
Old Wyrm


Joined: 16 Jan 2006
Posts: 512
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Jobs: Performer, Astrologer
Can Be Found: But home is nowhere.
2218.18 Silver Crowns

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PostPosted: Thu May 26, 2011 3:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The kinetic barrier held, although Victor himself was jolted somewhat by the blast. He tried to expand the field as much as he could, but he could only slow time, not stop it. At the very least, those near him and the ones hiding behind the couch would be safe.

Alain's coughing from the smoke, thankfully rapidly dissipating in the high-ceilinged room and through windows left open for the warm weather, and climbs slowly to his feet with a groan. Bruised a knee. It hurts.

"Everyone all-right?" He calls. Cough.

"We need some sort of fire suppression!" He yells out to Alain, his back pressed against the tabletop.

“Just like last time?!” Icer called out to Alain as she finally went up.

Emerging from the cover of the booth, a little dusty but none the worse for wear, Mesteno cast a glance back at Alain from where he called behind the bar.

Fortunately for everyone else the suit manages to absorb most of the concussive force, though whatever splatters around the Inn the dark ranger can't stop. The upcycling whine is heard, followed by another concussive pulse that throws the fire off of him and expels the air from his vicinity, snuffing out the flames immediately around him.

Wolvinator's call gets another few coughs, as Alain stashes the pistol back in its holster to search the back bar for a fire extinguisher.

"Damnit, this one's busted... never mind," he says to Icer's question, and takes up an extinguisher that looks more functional. He glances at the instructions, then makes use of the thing. Stepping through the break as he does.

Disappointment wrote a story across Bylah’s face, a tragedy that was so brief, a blink meant you missed it. So much for that. The Beast swayed and shifted, turned his attention on something he'd given away.

Watching Alain work the extinguisher, Wolvie slowly stands up, wafting his hand through the smoke as he looks over at the dark ranger's last location. It... seems to be working somewhat.

"What the hell was that all about? I leave for a few months ad we've got kamikaze terrorists in Rhy'Din?"

Thinking a bit more immediate and practical, Victor ran to the kitchen and returned with a bucket of water in each hand. It wasn't much, but he had no magic to counter a fire. One, then the other was hurled into what little bits of the blaze he could help with, then he repeated the trip.

"That was no terrorist. It was an assassin," Victor called out, overhearing Wolvinator as he gathered more water.

"Notice how she opened fire on two people - I'm betting one is the target and the other was a dummy, and a lot of questions would be answered by figuring out which is which."

Mesteno was still watching Alain as he busied himself with the extinguisher. Mild, but barely there frown.

"Man named Ed Batten, myself, plus three candidates got put on a hit list. By Howe," Alain explains to Wolvinator with a scowl. Working the extinguisher until it's empty. Thankfully it's the foam kind, so that does seem to help.

"Howe." The name was nearly spit with venom from Wolvinator’s lips. "That's someone I'd love to get my hands wrapped around." He said, thinking of the last time he and that man had an encounter, and how it ended.

Fafnir was torn in two, desire and despair for a meal missed out on. Simple silence, the Shadow spiraled upwards, black eyes flicking back towards the couch. His source ignored, he strode around it...and stopped. Just stopped and stared and searched inside himself for the deep patience he could've typically weaved with on any other day.

Heave of a sigh as Gideon peered out from behind the couch, problem solved, apparently, and he set the seer on her feet as he rose to his own, brushing himself off as if she'd been coated in dust.

"I hate you because you lied to me, Viki, because you gave me hope, and snatched it away."

Starlight, starbright, but who would take her wish to heart? Gideon did not understand, even though he plucked her from certainly danger, even though she wore his hand upon her head like a hat.

“I did naut know.” Roll of truth he could not taste. She inched a foot away.

Inching away was a good thing, at least if that cold stare had anything to say of it.

"I don't believe you." Quiet accusation, hard anger shoved up like the wall of a tidal wave behind it. He turned attention toward Fafnir, apologies silent, no need to speak things as he turned, closed a hand on Fafnir's arm and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Please. I want to leave, soon...

The ranger is looking down at himself, mostly in disgust it seems. Splattered with scorched flesh along his torso, arms, and helmet, he looks one hell of a sight. He looks down at Icer, the sound of a chuckle coming from the voice synthesizer.

"Yeah, I noticed. Think maybe this'll discourage them?"

“I doubt it,” said Icer.

The armored figure looks around, shaking his head. "Nah. Me either." The faintest whine of electronics can be heard as the figure makes his way over to the stairs, heading up them to let himself into a room, locking the door behind him.

Risa’s rolling in from the kitchen actually, without a clue as to what she'd just missed. It's always bright pink day and sparkles for Risa, despite the disaster she might walk in on. Eyebrows up and blue eyes behind the glasses curious, she grabs the only neon hot pink half-apron in the bunch and ties it on for once, flip-flops flapping behind the bar.

"Good evening folks, how's it goin'?"

“I’ll see if there are more upstairs,” said Ebon Ilnaren, who just arrived.

"Thanks," Alain nods to Ebon with a glance at him. "You're a sight for sore eyes. A handkerchief and some whiskey," he says to Risa with a tired smile, passing cash over.

"So are you, hot stuff. Glad to see I was missed." Wolvie clearly knew that Alain wasn't talking to him as he turned around to look over the bar and the patrons once more. He motioned over towards the armored figure. "What's up with that thing? We gotta new sheriff in town?"

He didn't know if he was heard, but regardless Victor went on as he put away the water buckets. "A terrorist would have just blown up the damn place, and not bothered with guns."

Ebon returned with another fire extinguisher and starts spraying any open flame he sees that isn't in the hearth. Alain gives Ebon a grateful nod as the man goes about his work.

Momentary Super Woman pose, hands on hips. Risa just needed to hire her own wind-crew to make the apron flap. At any rate, a headbob nod to Alain, then skipped off in flippyfloppies to grab a clean 'kerchief, a bottle of whiskey, and about three shot glasses she could hold in between her fingers for Alain. Just in case. "Sounds like I missed a bit."

Did she just hear terrorist? Her eyebrows didn't know whether they wanted to jump ship off her forehead or rattle about.

Ebon flashes a grin at Risa despite the situation. “I just arrived myself, but apparently someone turned themselves into a firebomb…”

"Assassination attempt. Suicide when she failed. Fire everywhere," These are the spark-notes version Alain gives to Risa as he takes the whiskey and glasses. Fills up the shots, passes one over to Wolvinator, and leaves the last one for whichever volunteer feels like taking it.

“Who was she trying to kill?” Lirssa asks Alain, as if she is part of the conversation.

“Viki.” Icer says, to Lirssa, and Edward.

"It was Viki?" Alain frowns at Icer. "Christ..."

"Viki? Why for?" Lirssa felt a spit of anger flare up and it get her teeth to grinding.

Eventually Victor flopped back onto his barstool, only to see that his bottle of absinthe had taken a bullet as well. "God damn..." He seemed more upset about the bottle getting shot than what he'd taken himself. "...that's just f**king tragic." The broken piece that remained was summarily tossed into the trash as his mana eye scanned the shelf for a replacement. "Hiaz, damn it." A new bottle flew from the shelf into his hand. Ripping out the cork and spitting it off toward the waste bin, Victor returned his attention to Viki, curious.

"Hmm..." He mused to himself. "Now why'd someone want you dead..."
_________________
Victoria Alexandra Chylde

I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music
And it breaks my heart - Regina Spektor
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