Lykaia’s Saturday morning odd encounter(Lykaia)

September 6, 2025

Date: 2025-09-06 07:55

(Lykaia’s Saturday morning odd encounter(Lykaia):Lykaia)

[Sat Sep 6 2025]

On Franklin Avenue/span>/spanmorning/span>/span70F(21C) degrees, and there are clear skies. The mist is heaviest At Mayflower and Lake/span>/span(Your target encounters a runaway from hell, with several hell-sworn military officers searching for them.
)

“How’s things otherwise for you, Ekat?” Lykaia asks, pushing herself away from her bike, looking Ekaterina over. And it’s of course in that exact moment that someone is coming running down the street. Black haired lady in a red dress, barefoot now. She certainly wore heels at some point. The lady’s eyes focus on Ekaterina and Lykaia, with one openly armed and the other in a military gear up. She runs over and looks at Ekaterina “YOU GOT TO HELP ME!” She whines, desperation carrying in her tone.

Nodding to Lykaia, Ekaterina agrees. “Da. It has been some time. This is the nature of a city so large.”

Having spent the morning in-doors, she had left to visit McShiel’s Irish pub, her business, in order to check the takings for the week, having met Lykaia there and decided to chat.

It is of course then that the woman comes running. Ekaterina flicks her gaze to the woman- Threat assessment- Suspicious marks/cuts/bruising/bites, it is the werewolf time of the month.

The dress gets an once over, the lack of footwear, and she glances between the woman and Lykaia before nodding slowly. “What is the problem?” the Russian asks.

“Y-You got to hide me! The-the s-sixty third…” The lady does not just ask, requests, she begs. Her eyes shimmer with the glimmer of tears, and now that she is near, her appearance can be easily said to be disheveled. Mascara ran down along tears at some point, dried, lipstick is smeared. There is a bruise along her jawline, and more along her right shoulder. Fine lines of red mark the back of her left along rips along her dress. The dress barely holds up and together.

Lykaia chimes by “Could head in, or use your car to hide her. Up to you, Ekat. You got the better position to help here.”

exhales a long breath. Opening her SUV again with the flick of the lock-fob, Ekaterina motions Lykaia and the woman to sit.

For Ekaterina’s own part, she returns to the front seat of the vehicle– This will clearly take some time, and inviting a stranger in to her place of business is likely not best advised.

“Blyet.” she curses. “Tell me story. Why are the Sixty Third after you, and help you exactly -how-?”

The invite is there, both Lykaia and the woman invited to sit in the SUV, and that’s what Ekaterina apparently expects from the two.

Lykaia lets out an exhale, too. Readies the baton from the holster that hangs over her sternum and draws it out, before stepping into the SUV. “We’ll probably handle it. Probably. Depends on what kind of shit is going to be thrown our way.” She lets out another exhale, the lady following into the SUV. Tears begin to shed again, and somehow, she is looking on with some measure of anxious relief. “T-torture slave. I… I… escaped.” She admits, looking squeamish. It is of course in that same moment that another car drives in. Slow, fully crewed, the people inside the vehicle, a black van, wear the 63rd soldier uniforms. Three visible at the front that are scanning the area, one of them looks down to their phone for some reason. The 63rd driver looks at Ekaterina and says something to the other two.

“Tracking.” Ekaterina observes.

Motioning for the woman and Lykaia to close their doors, Ekaterina slips the key into the ignition and readies to drive. “Of course they are tracking.”

A grimace, and Ekaterina readies to shift the SUV into drive.

“I think you should be telling us both more.” she calls to the woman.

The doors come closed and Lykaia starts to hold on with one hand while her other unpacks the HK-416 rifle from the belt at her back, slinging it around herself. The lady cowers, breathing shallow but she obeys Ekaterina “T-They b-branded me.” She adjusts, turning her back and pulling the dress up above her hip, where the brand lies. It glows lightly in red hues. Scars are visible. “I b-belonged to a demon Lord. They… captured me…” She sniffs, whines. “T-torture pits… the s-sixty third w-was was… told to c-capture me because… b-because… knowledge… in my brand.”

The van of the 63rd comes to a stop, the person with their phone says something, half-shifting back into the rest of the van and the doors at the back open as two figures step outside, weapons in hand. They start to move forward, towards Ekaterina’s SUV. By the shadows, Ekaterina discerns that there is more in the back and that just the two of them had been sent out.

“Okay.” Ekaterina nods, just the once. This is apparently enough. “This explains the tracking.”

She waits until those doors begin to open, spots the additional demons in the back of the 63rd vehicle, rolls down her window, tosses out a teargas grenade, then- guns the engine.

The SUV is a safe vehicle, of course, and that affords Ekaterina a few benefits, such as a more secure structure. The window rolls up again once that grenade is tossed out, and Ekaterina sets off.

If she can reverse into the 63rd agents and squash them with the tonnage of her own vehicle, Ekaterina will, though she’s not deliberately aiming to do so.

The SUV turns, then heads off, the aim, to out-run the demons, who will be distracted by teargass, and head off to down town, and Temple Security HQ.

Calmly, Ekaterina suggests to Lykaia, mid turn, ” Shoot out their wheels.”

Ekaterina’s teargas gets flung out onto the streets and the two 63rd that had the misfortune to be in it, grimace as they breathe it in. Their eyes begin to burn and they try to sprint off the street. Lykaia leans out, but with Ekaterina starting the drive back, the gas cloud, and being quite in the public, the shot sparks off the 63rd van instead, richochetting back into the street’s asphalt. The Lady screams, once before placing both of her hands over her mouth. She shuts her eyes tightly and whimpers.

The 63rd driver of the van steers the vehicle around, slower than Ekaterina, but starts to chase after Ekaterina’s suv. In the backmirror, Ekaterina can see one of them ready their own rifle and lean towards the passenger door.

“Incoming.” Ekaterina doesn’t take her eye off the road, instead allowing Lykaia to handle the following 63rd.

“These rules are very annoying…” she complains, navigating her way through the streets. “No murdering them.” A sniff, and she suggests to Lykaia, “Under the seat, smoke grenades, teargas and caltrops.” Though Ekaterina would rather likely want to be using a fragmentation grenade.

She reaches to the glove box, takes out a flashbang one-handed, hands it back to Lykaia and suggests, “Or there is this.”

“The brand will be hard to remove.” the Russian explains to the woman, tone flat as she focuses on the road. “You will likely be tucked away until we can deal with you.” -Too late now, they’re already driving.

And already driving, Ekaterina attempts to lose the 63rd vehicle with a series of turns to side roads, through intersections, all avoiding other vehicles, pedestrians and running red lights- Thank God for NHPD’s inability to enforce literally any law but public nudity.

“Drive us to Downtown,” Lykaia says, taking the flashbang, not aware that it’s exactly what Ekaterina is already doing. She pulls the pin, waits, and then throws it up, letting it roll over the roof, until it drops and BANG, flash. The van belonging to the 63rd makes a hard stop, brakes working against the rolling tires to bring it to a quick stop. Fortunately for them and unfortunately for the escapee lady, Lykaia and Ekaterina, they did not crash into anything and managed their stop well enough. The distance builds between Ekaterina’s SUV and them.

Ekaterina tries to drive along the streets, but by fate or by miscalculation, Ekaterina makes a turn, and ends up in a traffic jam with another vehicle driving right up to her. A look around would reveal that they are in running distance to Downtown if they can’t find a way out of the Jam, and the 63rd Van is far away enough that they have not yet turned around the corner and will be stuck in it a few vehicles down back, once it makes its turn to chase.

“Da, down town.” Ekaterina affirms with Lykaia. “To Temple Security–”
someone The Russian runs the amber light, turns and- Traffic jam. Well, that’s a problem.

Adjusting the mirror, Ekaterina glances back. “The Sixty-Third ar likely going to follow, but we are good for now. They will be contending with line of vehicles.”

Shoulders untencing, she waits it out- A jam is a problem for the 63rd as much as it is with Ekaterina, Lykaia and the woman, and so she keeps an eye on the road, waits for the traffic to move, then readies to pull off into another lane the moment there’s space to gun the engine and flee to down town.

“Too many people watching.” Ekaterina explains. “We could run, da. But is faster if they can turn from another direction. One intersection and we turn.”

So saying, Ekaterina waits it out, ready to turn into the borough and along Church Street. In the meanwhile, she taps her comms implant speaking into it and reporting to the Temple operatives, “Incoming. Myself, Lykaia, victim of the Sixty-Third. Get ready to extract when you see us hit Church. Operatives be ready for Sixty-Thirds.”

“Da, down town.” Ekaterina affirms with Lykaia. “To Temple Security–”

The Russian runs the amber light, turns and- Traffic jam. Well, that’s a problem.

Adjusting the mirror, Ekaterina glances back. “The Sixty-Third ar likely going to follow, but we are good for now. They will be contending with line of vehicles.”

“Too many people watching.” Ekaterina explains. “We could run, da. But is faster if they can turn from another direction. One intersection and we turn.”

There is a loud exhale from Lykaia before opening her side of the door, and stepping out of Ekaterina’s vehicle, turning around to stand at the front, hands holding on to the rifle. When the line begins to move forward, she raises it at the vehicle where it happens, trying to enable Ekaterina to get on further with it. And pace is made. The van of the 63rd in the back does open, and four people step out of it. Rifles point in Lykaia’s and the direction of Ekaterina’s SUV, but they are out of effective range. And where Ekaterina makes steady progress, they try to walk closer instead.

A lane opens, Lykaia raises her rifle, but the vehicle does not stop, but Ekaterina manages to just squeeze through. People do not like their vehicles damages and so the vehicle that had tried to force its way on anyway, comes to a stop. Lykaia still steps on it and jumps over Ekaterina’s vehicle to the other side, open a door, and step inside. “Think we are good to drive out now.” Lykaia says to Ekaterina.

In the back, the van of the 63rd is quite literally stuck, and the rest of the journey should be a safe one now, until their tracker catches them up to wherever Ekaterina is driving.

Waiting for Lykaia to do what she does, Ekaterina nods once she clambers back into the SUV.

That space opens up, success!

Ekaterina turns off, into Down Town, and drives the rest of the way to 110 Church Street. Parking up, Ekaterina looks to the woman in the back, telling her, “Inside.”

Stepping out of her own door, the engine killed, Ekaterina circles the vehicle, coming out beside the woman’s door, rifle shouldered, a knife in Ekaterina’s palm.

Opening the door for the woman, Ekaterina tells Lykaia, “We’ll leave her with Camila.” Of course, Ekaterina means the Temple Security receptionist. “We will hand off, have the operatives take her below and keep a guard on her until James,” meaning Doctor Wilson, “Can remove the brand. I think our job is nearly over.”

The lady is taken in by the secretary, and one of the Templar from downstairs comes up to guide her along. She is freed from the brand, though the 63rd knows what happened and who’s involved, they do not enter Downtown and as far as the public is concerned, the temple, with Ekaterina at the center, helped rescue someone that the hell-sworn military officers, in the form of the 63rd, tried to take.

The knowledge that hid behind the magical brand, turned out to be the location of a relic, a bone gauntlet that enables the wearer to throw Hellfire at people.

“They are very late on that.” Ekaterina mentions to Lykaia, driving back to All Saints. “Constance already has that relic.”

All’s well that ends well though, and today, Ekaterina and Lykaia were successful. The morning returns to normal, and they can get on with there normal Haven lives.

(Your target discovers they’ve been marked by a supernatural predator – perhaps a vampire has chosen them as their next meal, or a fae creature has decided to collect them. They must evade capture while trying to find a way to break the mark or turn the hunter into the hunted.)

“Can be hard to trace sometimes. Need to acquire the item before it becomes affordable to possess it.” Lykaia admits, raising her shoulders to shrug. “Might just be how they ended up tracing on the relic, how they done their research. Or just wanting the girl to not end up in someone else’s hand because that demon lord had it in their personal treasury.”

The weekend. Calm, peaceful, unbothered by anything but the previous encounter with the escaped 63rd Legion’s victim. Nothing else could possibly go wrong though. Nothing at all…

A normal quiet day in New Haven. The birds chirp, the sun is rising, the weather isn’t yet fully as cool as fall would normally make it.

The people of All Saints are rising. They are going about their morning ablutions, walking their dogs, tending their gardens, opening up businesses for the morning rush, taking stock and generally readying themselves for the day to come.

Ekaterina and Lykaia stand outside of McShiel’s Irish pub. They are talking about relics- perfectly average.

“This need to own people like things is very pathetic.” Ekaterina comments. “The marking and treatment is worse.” Her thoughts on the supernatural more than likely speaks for itself.

“It is fortunate we are done with that.” -They’re not. Why would they be? That would be far too easy, and this is New Haven.

So as Ekaterina and Lykaia talk, it should likely not come as a shock when the self same van from earlier is seen further up Franklin Avenue. It’s not nearing, yet. But between Ekaterina and Lykaia, it’s clear to see that it is circling. But why?

Lykaia rolls her eyes and she, of course gets a hold of her baton and pushes in the neural at the back of her neck. “Might have company again, Ekat. Same van. And…” She lets her rifle hang from its sling. “Slavery’s pretty normal in New Haven. Vigil does it. Conclave does it. Some cults do it. They all might just call it with different words.” The baton is readied, the battery turned on with the baton making a little hum and then fading to silence. Advanced tech that adds a little electrical shock to where it hits.

Sighing, Ekaterina nods to Lykaia. “Da, is true, but it does not mean that I have to like it.” Ekaterina replies to Lykaia.

The stiletto is drawn from Ekaterina’s boot, palmed and she of course makes the motion look as though she were fixing her boot’s fit. Her words are hidden by her shoulder as she does so, insuring that no one can read her lips- The professional touch.

The van circles again, this time coming past via Carnation and Franklin- They are circling the entire block then.

This time, their attention is apparently on Lykaia The driver faces forward, but the 63rd beside him pointedly looks over- They’re talking, likely sharing a battle plan before engagement.

And that’s when Lykaia notices it. There’s a physical mark on the back of her hand that burns, only noticed when drawing the baton. It’s simply sensation for now, of course, Lykaia’s hand is covered, but she knows it’s there- Could it be some cruel twist of fate that the mark upon the woman just rescued has transfered?

Lykaia lets out a groan. “Ever done a chase on a bike?” she asks, as she adjusts, twists and then mounts her bike, body lowering enough. “They are pretty fun.” She releases the neural at the back of her neck. “There’s frags and whatever else you need on the side. Don’t scratch my bike too much if you can and you’re not using your SUV instead. Best we fuck off back to Downtown, visit the Court theater or have the AI handle this shit.”

“What now?” Ekaterina asks, clearly having not noticed the obscured mark.

As the 63rd van draws closer again though, this time acturning on to Franklin, Ekaterina nods to Lykaia. “I think your bike is faster though.” she agrees with a sigh.

One leg striding across Lykaia’s bike, the Russian settles in behind Lykaia, rifle shouldered, and already looking for resources to disrupt the Legion with.

Once settled and ready for Lykaia to set off, she mentions sardonically, “History repeats itself. Car chace number two.”

“Hold on to me at start. Will be a lot of wind pressure pushing back.” The bike peeks up gently, though Lykaia is far from gentle in how she goes through it, just swinging it around, and then driving on into the traffic and immediately speeding up much as she can while keeping to the middle line of the street. The The mounted gear on the front of her cap open up and her body lowers to reduce on the wind pushback. Her ponytail floats strongly back along.

Agreeing with that assessment of Lykaia’s, Ekaterina leans into Lykaia as the bike speeds. Her own tail flutters behind her as the weight is reduced, the bike rocketing down the street easily

(fix) Agreeing with that assessment of Lykaia’s, Ekaterina leans into Lykaia as the bike speeds. Her own tail flutters behind her as the weight is reduced, the bike rocketing down the street easily; Of course it does, a motorcycle is manoeuvourable, and can cut through alleys, between vehicles, and dodge traffic in both directions.

The engine thrumbs, the bike’s momentum building, and beneath the two, it vibrates like the pur of a contented cat.

Lykaia speeds away, distance building, and the 63rd van is left in Lykaia’s dust. They are still following though, and glancing back, Ekaterina shouts this knowledge to Lykaia. “Still following!”

Then, they are away, at least for now, and are able to begin moving back to Down Town, and either the Court, Temple or Lykaia’s cult bases.

Lykaia slows her bike down a bit, the humming of the machine calming more before she turns onto Washington Avenue and begins to drive north. “They’ll probably fucking think we will do same as before. Let’s circle around. North, Elysia, Northview, then into Bayview and to Downtown. Might have tough luck with another, and surely their fucking thing does not trace after me, right?” She says, her tone growing into something more sarcastic.

Of course, the sole purpose to slowing down was to actually talk and be heard, hard enough as it is with the wind coming to her face. She speeds up again, at first, and then slower again down a block.

“Da.” Ekaterina calls out as the bike slows. “They should not be able to track.”

Honest, but Ekaterina still doesn’t quite know about the mark yet. This is still a convenient coincidence in her mind.

Lykaia makes it up Washington, and through Elysia. It’s not until Bayview that there are issues- It’s a weekend, and there is a lot of traffic. (It looks like it’s a day for it)

Lykaia speeds up, rounds a bend and then is caught, screaming to near stand still as beach-goers en mass cause a near collision. A driver pulls out, their indicators not on, and Lykaia is forced to swirve at the last minute.

The van doesn’t appear to be within sight, but if they are tracking, it’s only a matter of time, and Lykaia and Ekaterina can easily see that the streets are full of 63rd legionairs, who all spot the bike, reaching to their ear pieces, likely to report on where the two women are.

There does look like a break in the throng is coming up though. The traffic light was on red– it switches to amber– And if Lykaia is fast enough, she could likely find a space, small as the bike is, to turn off once vehicles begin moving again.

“Fuck me, guy drives like a blind conscript on tranquilizer. Should drag their license through the mud or meld their brakes shut.” Lykaia says, her tone unchanging, though her expression deadpans and she exhales. A brief look goes over the people reaching for their comms and then to the traffic light. No choice but to push it, and for a moment, it makes her bite the left of her lower lip, lightly, just as she starts driving in the direction again to make it through the light fast. Her lips curl into a slight smile, and though difficult to hear, she calls back to Ekaterina “Nothing better than driving your beauty through human situations.”

It really isn’t Lykaia’s day today; A granny in a convertable pulls out, ignoring all road laws in front of Lykaia’s bike- It’s likely because of the poor policing in New Haven.

Ekaterina doesn’t respond to Lykaia’s statement, her eye is on the 63rd legionairs who are beginning to close in, made all the more easy by the traffic and the dithering old woman with the blue rince who starts hearling abuse at Lykaia, fist raised as though she wern’t the one in the wrong.

It’s slow, and the first few 63rd members close in, possibly two or three car lengths away, but Lykaia is able to circle around the granny, finally pulling into Down Town, where the Legion cant follow or the police will arrest them for violent activity.

The mark itself burns on the back of Lykaia’s hand now, more than it had before, and even through the covering it glows with magical energy. Lykaia will need to decide where to drive in order to resolve the situation.

It’s down along the street and then a turn into market street that Lykaia makes a turn. She drives slower now, might as well not rush it, though the burn makes the grip she has over the steering on that side loosen. “Got that mark on the back of my hand now, Ekat. Will steer to court for it. Not permitted into the temple base, no reason to force it. Will call in just to make sure they’re ready, for worst case. Getting along with Doctor Clark. Helped her out a little here and there.” She picks up her comms, raising the hurting hand for it.

The pain mounts, and Lykaia calls into the comms, but unfortunately, the Court are unable to get the meaning of Lykaia’s communication.

The bike pulls up outside the Mask Theatre, and though Ekaterina clambers off of the vehicle, she doesn’t follow Lykaia into the theatre itself. There is clearly something wrong though, and some of the Cortiers emerge from the building– Someone likely ran a trace on Lykaia, and once Lykaia and Ekaterina explain the situation, Lykaia is taken inside, the mark is inspected, and Doctor Clark is able to remove it.

It is what might be expected, the mark transfered from the woman when she was taken to the Temple, though more adept with magical methods than the Temple, the Court are able to trap it, take the information for themselves, and destroy the demon’s hold over the information, and the location of the bone gauntlet.

Lykaia is healed, released, and the situation, after two early morning escapes from the 63rd is finally over.

Lykaia says “What could possible go wrong. A third chase of vengeance?“