Encounterlogs
Iriss Odd Encounter Sr Ritsuka 241118
In the eerie dawn at Savage Talent boxing studio, Iris and Viorel prepared for an unusual encounter. The place, steeped in the history of countless bouts, now became the setting for a modern struggle against a magical menace. Iris, armed with a new claw hammer stained with old blood, and Viorel, loading his shotgun with rubber rounds, soon discovered their real opponents weren't anything they had trained for. A swarm of rats, driven mad by magic, besieged them, forcing the pair into a fight unlike any they had trained for. The atmosphere thickened with tension as they realized the gravity of their situation, preparing to face the onslaught.
The battle escalated quickly, with Iris cracking jokes even as they prepared their defense. But when the rats attacked, humor faded into grim determination. Viorel's shotgun roared in the confined space, a brutal but effective response to the swarm. Iris, meanwhile, turned to an unconventional weapon against their multitude of foes—a bottle of highly flammable liquid. With a lighter borrowed from Viorel, they set the swarm ablaze, a desperate but decisive act that turned the tide. Amidst the chaos, a peculiar rat caught Iris's eye, escaping unharmed. The aftermath left them questioning the origin of such a bizarre attack, especially after noticing a suspicious individual associated with the Golden Shadow outside the studio. Choosing discretion over further investigation, they decided to leave the scene, pondering the implications of what had just occurred and how it tied to the broader mysteries of Haven.
(Iris's odd encounter(SRRitsuka):SRRitsuka)
[Sun Nov 17 2024]
In the spacious boxing studio of |Savage Talent|
The moment you step through the creaking wooden door, the air thickens with the scent of sweat, leather, and determination. This studio seems a relic of a bygone era - its timeworn walls echoing with the ghosts of countless fighters who may have once graced the hallowed floors. Those wooden boards beneath the feet have seen it all. Their once-vibrant hues have faded to a sepia memory, yet they bear the weight of endless foot traffic. Each squeak and groan tells a story: the shuffle of worn-out sneakers, the shift of a fighter dodging an imaginary foe, and the thud of a well-aimed blow. At the center of the room stands the traditional boxing or wrestling ring, elevated nearly four feet off of the ground. Its apron, frayed and patched, bears the scars of countless battles. The ropes sag slightly, like the sinews of an aging boxer.
A floor-to-ceiling mirror spans the western expanse of wall, its glass slightly warped from years of witnessing triumphs and defeats. It reflects the flickering light of dingy bulbs, creating the illusion of a much more expansive space where warriors can train and hone their craft. In the dimly lit corners, heavy bags sway like pendulums, their leather skin bearing the damage of endless jabs, hooks, and uppercuts. Each thud reverberates throughout the room, a primal beat urging fighters to push themselves even harder. Adjacent to those, the speed bags hum with anticipation. Their rhythmic dance adds to the caucophony with a percussive melody. Here, fighters refine their timing, breathing and footwork.
It is dawn, about 22F(-5C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target is attacked by an animal or small group of animals driven mad with magic, it is up to them to escape or fight them off for long enough for their allies to arrive and help deal with the threat.
)
Iris marches in with an armored vest slung over her shoulder, giving Viorel a quick upnod. "If this is like last time, we'll mostly be doing odd dancing and swinging wildly, but who knows, maybe we've both improved. Anyway, turns out that old baton broke, so I went to the DIY store to pick up this bad boy." The 'bad boy' in question turning out to be a large claw hammer. Desptie its shiny new look, the handle and head already appeared to be stained with flecks of old blood.
"Not surprised, it was a pretty dingy looking thing. Not the sort of thing I'd bring to a fight against freaks." Viorel snickered though his teeth, happily accentuating the word 'freaks' despite the obvious irony. "You thought about some sort of mace? Maybe a bat? I feel like a bat would suit you, get something studded or chain-wrapped." He continued, idly loading rubber rounds into his shotgun as Iris approached. "The only thing I'd worry about a hammer is the handle snapping off, had that happen to me during DIY, let alone a fight."
Minus five degrees Celsius, or twenty-two fahrenheit, right in this room alone. The skies outside are grey and dark, no snow currently, but it seems like the recent stormy weather was just the dawn for yet much colder weather. The room itself, at this morning hour, appears to be entirely unvisited. Iris is here, and Viorel is, too, but no one else is, no one besides a little *SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK* that comes from somewhere, all right after Viorel is talking to Iris about blunt weapon suggestion. It stops, and then it is quiet again - for now.
The heating in the room is just turning up, maybe by neglect or someone just had forgotten to leave it running during the night, and so, every little breath comes with its own little cloud of cold cloudy dust.
Iris feels up the hammer in her hand, giving it a good squeeze and a couple of hefty swings mid-air "I asked about that, turns out these polymer handle ones are rated for high intensity work and are also just flexible enough to not break your wrists when you hit metal, or bone for that matter." Iris bounces a couple of times in place, following up with "Like a baseball bat with spikes in it? Maybe a chain around the end? Really go all out like in that zombie show? For now I'll stick to this and a glock."
Viorel scoffs lightly at that, "Not quite sure if zombies are real." Again, a good amount of irony came from the man as he spoke, a hand settled on his hip, "At least... I've never seen one." His voice dipped a little lower as he double-checked that the quiet-as-usual building had only the other Temple-goer as company, "Unless thralls count? Not the sorts of thing you see in movies though. That's besides the point, a bat has nice reach, but I'm sure if you talk to some of the other agents you could get a better recommendation."
Iris bobs her head from side to side, claiming "Eh, would it really surprise you now? Ghosts, ghouls and goblins, really, what will TV think of next?"
Well, the question of zombies being real or not - this is Haven. Haven is an odd place where magic flows incredibly strong and some do dedicate themselves to the dark arts; it is close to the gates after all. But that question won't be answered here today, there is another *SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK* this time it is coming from another direction. The air feels like it is quite heavy, and if one were to listen closely to the squeaking- does it sound... pained? Twisted, forced... HURTING. It is animalistic, the shadows seem to creep closer, dance dimly along the floor where it falls under the light of the room, like small and little tendrils in a barely noticeable, swaying movement.
Viorel pauses as the sound gets closer, his attention ripped away from Iris as his ears twitch ever-so slightly.
Iris quirks an eyebrow and swivels her head around, eyes and head snapping around like a hunting bird trying to spot something "Did you see or hear something? What is it, Fido?" She asked with a grin on her face, trying not to laugh at her own joke.
Viorel groans at Iris's quip, "You're a fucking menace." He clicks his tongue as he replies, distracting him from the sound for a but a moment, "Don't you hear it? Kinda sounds like putting stress or a joint... Or when a tree is about to fall down, that sort of thing." Instinctively, he begins to unload the less-than-lethal rounds from his firearm, instead reaching into his parka and withdrawing a few red shells.
Iris shakes her head but instinctively slips her vest on, latching the velcro on tight and squinting "Excuse me for not hearing the soundtrack the viewers hear when watching a horror movie, that's not how life works."
"Yeah, you probably hear a laugh track every time you stop talking." Viorel replies in a flat tone, sliding the shells in one-by-one before racking the lever.
Iris can't help but laugh at the answer, shaking her head and saying "Can't argue with that logic."
Viorel hears it, now that he is listening closely. It is not just one squeak, some are just closer. Agitated, wounded, pained, it is the twisted squeak of rats, under the boxing run, in the walls where they should not be - a small army of squeaking and as he listens on to it for a couple more seconds, they start to sound more and more... agitated, unhealthy. And they every EVERYWHERE.
Now that Viorel pointed it out, and if Iris takes a moment now, too. She can hear it, not the way Viorel does, less clear, but there is agitated squeaking coming from some of the different places around the both of them. They both equip and make ready for whatever it is that is happening, and clearly, they are starting to prepare. Then there is suddenly silence, but the tension continues to hang in the air.
Iris grips her clawhammer tightly in her left hand and pulls out her handgun, adopting a more defensive and serious posture. "You were right on the money, I can hear it, but what the hell is that? Wouldn't be the first time I smacked rats with a hammer, and it even does look like the old warehouse..."
While he glanced around the room, eyes frantically looking for the source of the sound, Viorel slipped a few extra shells into the hold that was strapped to the side. "Not great..." He murmured to himself, gaze ticking over to Iris as she pulled out her own firearm. "Not so funny now, is it? But if it's just rats... We just need to call the exterminators. But it doesn't quite sound like rats." Sucking his teeth, he took his attention to the exit of the room, instinctively drawing towards it as he kept his attention moving.
Viorel quickly adds on in a query towards Iris, "You had your rabies shots?"
Iris taps the side of her chin with her hammer "Yep, got bit by a dog once. Same with tetanus and a few others, but let's hope it doesn't come to that."
And then - a single rat skitters out from some of the machinery in the room, and audaciously places itself in front of the door. It glares and stares up at Viorel and at Iris, smelling the air for a second, and then another, and then *SQUEAK* A whole group of rats skitter along one of the corner of the walls, climbing over and atop each other ontop some of the equipment, another group scours out from under the boxing ring. And there is silence again, for a few, tender and precious second, until all at once they squeak. Now it doesn't sound agitated, hurting... there is nothing emotional about it, beyond a symphony of crazed madness.
Iris stares at the rat for a few solid seconds, observing it and the whole group skitter their way under the boxing ring. "Yeah, this place definitely needs an exterminator, this doesn't look like the kind of thing a few of those tiny plastic boxes of poison would fix. Hear something?" These final words addressed to Viorel with an inquisitive look on her face.
"Well- I guess it is rats... A lot of them." Viorel notes the obvious easily, eyes flicking over to Iris, "Think you've got enough hammer for all over them." He snickers, not quite taking the situation seriously yet, tension only mounting as the number of rodents increases. "I don't even know if I /can/ get rabies... Anyway, if any more show up, I'm gonna blast the ones at the door, then we can make a fun for it, da?"
Iris looks over towards the door, then her hammer and then the ring, answering "I don't think a hammer is going to do the trick here, yeah. And you really think rats would try to block us in?"
The threat is spoken by Viorel, and the rats, hearing it or not - start to skitter around now. Their group grows and grows with another bunch of rats, and if this was a tabletop session, they would be called a swarm as they skitter across the ground. They jump up and down, and for a moment it is a very acrobatic kind of sport. Then they all stop, and they all start to stare at Iris and Viorel again. From the side of Iris' eye, she can notices something, a camera that has not been here in this establishment before. It idly hangs in the corner from the ceiling, placed with some gluey stripes to the wall, easy to remove, if one wanted, but it is there.
Then all at once, the entire swarm begins to squeak aggressively and to turn their way towards both Iris and Viorel.
Iris braces her firearm against her other hand's forearm, preparing to shoot or strike while adopting what one would consider a fighting stance, giving a quick side-eye to Viorel to say "Looks like we'll have to deal with them." She paced closer and closer to Viorel, leaning in to whisper "Someone's probably watching is, that camera wasn't there before. Your call on this one, think we should grab it before we smash it or shoot it?"
"Well, fat chance you've got with that hammer, don't happen to have a spray-can with those art supplies you got? And- make your call." Viorel asks aside, barely giving Iris a momentary glance before squeezing the trigger. The end of his boomstick flashes a cross of vaporized gunpowder as the buckshot flies from the tube, gun levied at the pile of rats as it kicks into his shoulder.
*BAM* resounds and echoes painfully LOUDLY through the room as a bullet is fired with live ammunition and it shreds straight into the swarm. There is nothing to aim for here, it's a swarm and some will certainly day fire of a shotgun and it is perhaps one of the most effective weapon to aim and target a swarm with. Several of the rodents become splatters on the floor, tiny bits and pieces of meat, bone and innards fly and splatter across the ground. It slows some of the rats and turns them more into a line and when they draw close enough to Iris, a swing of a bat smashes another three.
Still, they got close now, and did one, a particularly black and fat rat just jump onto Iris's hammer just as she swung, and jump down again? Yeah that ugly motherfucker of a rat did. They try to bite and scratch at the soles of Viorel's combat boots and at Iris' jackboots. And there is some that then also try too start to climb up along the boot itself, if allowed to happen.
Iris paces back and swings the hammer wildly around, taking a moment turn around and flick a bullet at the camera in the corner. A swarm wasn't easy to take down, but a stroke of genius hit the woman when she reached into her back to pull out a secret weapon. Kicking off one of the rats, the woman called out towards Viorel "Hey, you smoke? Got a lighter?" Without waiting on a response, the secret weapon was revealed: a good ol' fashioned bottle of fuckup juice from the Sludgefukk, full, quality grade alcohol and drain cleaner, tossing it at the ground in front of the swarm. "Do something badass, fangs."
"Fucker-" Viorel mutters as he kicks the rat off from his shoe, letting it fling across the room. "I do." He quickly replies as the question cuts through the room, his eyes drawn to the glass as it smashes across the panelled flooring of the boxing studio. "It's my damn favorite lighter too." The complaint runs hollow as he reaches into his parka and pulls out a cross-engraved zippo.
A few flicks fail to catch a spark as Viorel's attention is split between the rats and the task itself, finally sputtering into life on the third attempt. With a suck of his teeth, he underhands the lighter at the splashed puddle of drain-cleaner inspired alcohol.
Exploding, the camera was now no more, as the bullet penetrates straight through the lense and takes out all of its inside machinery. There is a hole in the wall now, but the equipment all clatters down to the ground, and more than that, the rat now seem... less aggressive? The clattering up the legs stop, their squeaking is just a touch less aggressive, and then they get soaked into alcohol as a glass bottle smashes on front and onto them, shards fling, liquid spills, and it is just enough to cover most of them with their now slowed aggression. Then fire is added to the alcohol and they all spark up in flames. Squeaks sound like screams and they star to all skitter apart and to burn to death. In truth, it is a very cruel kind of dying, their squeaks don't cease until the their very last moment and they also certainly cause for some of the equipment to catch on fire, too. A fire alarm starts to blare off from the ceiling, water starts to spray down and to soak the burning equipment, corpses and the living all...
From one corner, there is that single rat again, the one that's jumped onto Iris's weapon. It looks to Iris and Viorel intelligently, perhaps meeting their eyes, before then skiting off into a little hole in the wall.
"What a mess..." Viorel murmurs to himself, crouching down aside the fire to check if his zippo was left intact. He didn't quite notice the rat that ran up upon Iris's weapon, far more occupied with the death of his favorite passtime.
"Do you think we'll get charged for this? I mean- We did set a fire in the middle of a boxing studio..." With a sigh, Viorel hops back to his feet, charred zippo in-hand. "You got all your bits, no bites? Rabies after all." He asked rather casually, attention finally drawn upon Iris again.
Iris swings around a few more times until she sees the fireball created by that gross mixture some might call a drink. Its spread and plume made the woman burst into a loud cackle, ticking a pyromania she did not know she had. Loud laughing drowned out both the squeaking and the fire suppression system now in effect, her foot starting to stomp out at a few of the dead rats. "Ha! Ha-ha! Yes, yes. Yes! Boo-yah! That's now you do it." She exclaimed, pumping her fist a few times like an excited football player who just scored a touchdown, catching a glimpse of the rat that scurried off. "What? No, fuck that, this was an accident due to faulty wiring, and I think we're not done here." The last words coming from her mouth as she pointed to the hole in the wall.
No rabies and no bites... Viorel and Iris were quite effective in breaking this kind of infestation, alas, the black rat? Does not return and there is the distant sound of sirens that warn of an ever-approaching unit of emergency vehicles. It is likely an automated system that calls for them on a fire outbreak, and with no testing announced, clearly they are coming to do their job.
"Should probably kick it before we get stuck answering questions and filling out forms, yeah?" Viorel easily prompts to Iris, "If I'm stuck being questioned while the sun is up, I'll feel it for the rest of the week."
Iris hoisted her finger up towards Viorel, approaching the wall where the small hole was and tapping it a few times with her elbow before smacking the hammer a few times to test it out. Was it dry wall ready to be smashed through, was it solid brick or something else "Hold on just a moment before we skip place."
Viorel settles a hand on his hip, eyebrow raised as Iris steps over to the wall, "Got the horror soundtrack playing in your mind?" He snickered in a blatant callback, "Did all seem a little weird, but I don't think you can interrogate rodents."
Iris says "Interrogate? I have a nine millimeter microphone in my right hand, fangs."
Iris finds the wall to be particularly fragile there, and there is another rat or two that get to fall down and then try to skitter away audibly. They must have had their nest here for a time now, and there is still more rats hiding in the walls and in the building. But none come to move to attack either Iris or Viorel anymore. In the distance, the sirens are drawing ever closer, there is still a little bit more time if they needed it, a minute or two, before sliding away might prove difficult. Viorel would know this certainly, having a more precise and acute sense for hearing, he knows there was still time, but not for long, before needing to make a narrow escape.
Iris turns to Viorel and says "Alright, I think we should go, but first things first, this place, it's supposed to be empty, right? No other people right now besides you and I?"
Viorel clearly gets antsy as time passes, "C'mon Iris, it's just some damn feral rats. You wanna spend the rest of your day filling out paperwork? It's not gonna look good, we're both rookies." He complained, pacing back and forth before she finally replied, "And yeah, this place is pretty much always empty. No idea why, it's not a bad spot but the place is still under construction."
Iris motions with her hand as she plants the hammer back into her workbag and slowly lifts her now-free hand to her ear pointing the wall, covering it. The other one holds her firearm at the wall as she says "Knock knock." to herself. What follows is Iris firing several times into the wall, unloading bullet after bullet until the gun clicks to signal an empty magazine, moving her hand around to spread the area of fire for a bit. After that, she motions with two fingers, calling out "Alright, let's dip to the nearby intersection."
It is not just this floor that proves to be empty tonight, no, the entire facility is at silence when Iris and Viorel make their way down and then out, to escape from the situation that the fire department, or even the sheriff department may put them through when they do arrive here. There, however, is one, last and small thing that does draw attention, not to Viorel, but to Iris. Outside is a man, just finishing up closing the buttons on his coat. His hair is long and black, and on the first sight, he must look just like a weirdo and creep on first sight. He even has some sunglasses to hide his eyes. But there is this tiny symbol that Iris notices, at the hem of his coat. It is barely visible, small, it is colored and looks like a golden dagger plunged through a shadowy globe. He is, of course, moving away though, towards a black van that houses people in both the front and passenger seat.
Iris squints at the man as the two approach, reloading on the way down and giving Viorel a quick nudge "That guy." She said, pointing to the man moving towards the van. "I recognize that symbol, I was with the others with the Mongolia thing, he's with the Golden Shadow."
Viorel glances over to Iris as they meld into the crowd that had gathered, "Should probably keep your tone down." He sighed, following her glance over to the fellow she pointed out, "Think they were just checking it out or to do with it? You'd think the shadowy cabal would have more to do than to play pied piper." A snicker drew from his lips as he pulled the hood of his parka up, the coming noon ever on his mind.
And yet, there was the camera, there was the black rat that escaped, but it could all mean very little. Iris knows no more than she had seen or experienced about the Golden Shadow, Viorel on the other hand does have the basics down. The camera? The man? Could it be shapeshifting? Could it have been a ritual of some sort to enact a certain scene, and the camera- was there a price on something with this? Had they been targeted or was this coincidental? The one thing that is clear is that money and some sort of profit were involved. The man enters the Van through the side door, cautious to not reveal anything to anyone, and they are about to drive off. The sirens from the emergency vehicles already sound to be very close, as if they are soon to arrive.
Iris stashes her weapons away in the workbag that held all sorts of museum giftshop stickers on it, turning to Viorel to say "We should be off now, EMS will be here shortly."
Viorel steps over to his ride, popping open the trunk to toss his longarm into. "You're telling me, need a ride? Otherwise you can always hop into that trash heap you call a van." He grins, tone playful as he prods and pokes, "Should probably tell the folks about this though, once they're about. I gotta speak to my handler either way." The man explains casually despite the weird circumstance as he slips into the driver's seat of his Pontiac Firebird.
Iris moves over to her *badass* and totally not shit rustbucket van, patting the side and jumping in to become inconspicuous.
The battle escalated quickly, with Iris cracking jokes even as they prepared their defense. But when the rats attacked, humor faded into grim determination. Viorel's shotgun roared in the confined space, a brutal but effective response to the swarm. Iris, meanwhile, turned to an unconventional weapon against their multitude of foes—a bottle of highly flammable liquid. With a lighter borrowed from Viorel, they set the swarm ablaze, a desperate but decisive act that turned the tide. Amidst the chaos, a peculiar rat caught Iris's eye, escaping unharmed. The aftermath left them questioning the origin of such a bizarre attack, especially after noticing a suspicious individual associated with the Golden Shadow outside the studio. Choosing discretion over further investigation, they decided to leave the scene, pondering the implications of what had just occurred and how it tied to the broader mysteries of Haven.
(Iris's odd encounter(SRRitsuka):SRRitsuka)
[Sun Nov 17 2024]
In the spacious boxing studio of |Savage Talent|
The moment you step through the creaking wooden door, the air thickens with the scent of sweat, leather, and determination. This studio seems a relic of a bygone era - its timeworn walls echoing with the ghosts of countless fighters who may have once graced the hallowed floors. Those wooden boards beneath the feet have seen it all. Their once-vibrant hues have faded to a sepia memory, yet they bear the weight of endless foot traffic. Each squeak and groan tells a story: the shuffle of worn-out sneakers, the shift of a fighter dodging an imaginary foe, and the thud of a well-aimed blow. At the center of the room stands the traditional boxing or wrestling ring, elevated nearly four feet off of the ground. Its apron, frayed and patched, bears the scars of countless battles. The ropes sag slightly, like the sinews of an aging boxer.
A floor-to-ceiling mirror spans the western expanse of wall, its glass slightly warped from years of witnessing triumphs and defeats. It reflects the flickering light of dingy bulbs, creating the illusion of a much more expansive space where warriors can train and hone their craft. In the dimly lit corners, heavy bags sway like pendulums, their leather skin bearing the damage of endless jabs, hooks, and uppercuts. Each thud reverberates throughout the room, a primal beat urging fighters to push themselves even harder. Adjacent to those, the speed bags hum with anticipation. Their rhythmic dance adds to the caucophony with a percussive melody. Here, fighters refine their timing, breathing and footwork.
It is dawn, about 22F(-5C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target is attacked by an animal or small group of animals driven mad with magic, it is up to them to escape or fight them off for long enough for their allies to arrive and help deal with the threat.
)
Iris marches in with an armored vest slung over her shoulder, giving Viorel a quick upnod. "If this is like last time, we'll mostly be doing odd dancing and swinging wildly, but who knows, maybe we've both improved. Anyway, turns out that old baton broke, so I went to the DIY store to pick up this bad boy." The 'bad boy' in question turning out to be a large claw hammer. Desptie its shiny new look, the handle and head already appeared to be stained with flecks of old blood.
"Not surprised, it was a pretty dingy looking thing. Not the sort of thing I'd bring to a fight against freaks." Viorel snickered though his teeth, happily accentuating the word 'freaks' despite the obvious irony. "You thought about some sort of mace? Maybe a bat? I feel like a bat would suit you, get something studded or chain-wrapped." He continued, idly loading rubber rounds into his shotgun as Iris approached. "The only thing I'd worry about a hammer is the handle snapping off, had that happen to me during DIY, let alone a fight."
Minus five degrees Celsius, or twenty-two fahrenheit, right in this room alone. The skies outside are grey and dark, no snow currently, but it seems like the recent stormy weather was just the dawn for yet much colder weather. The room itself, at this morning hour, appears to be entirely unvisited. Iris is here, and Viorel is, too, but no one else is, no one besides a little *SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK* that comes from somewhere, all right after Viorel is talking to Iris about blunt weapon suggestion. It stops, and then it is quiet again - for now.
The heating in the room is just turning up, maybe by neglect or someone just had forgotten to leave it running during the night, and so, every little breath comes with its own little cloud of cold cloudy dust.
Iris feels up the hammer in her hand, giving it a good squeeze and a couple of hefty swings mid-air "I asked about that, turns out these polymer handle ones are rated for high intensity work and are also just flexible enough to not break your wrists when you hit metal, or bone for that matter." Iris bounces a couple of times in place, following up with "Like a baseball bat with spikes in it? Maybe a chain around the end? Really go all out like in that zombie show? For now I'll stick to this and a glock."
Viorel scoffs lightly at that, "Not quite sure if zombies are real." Again, a good amount of irony came from the man as he spoke, a hand settled on his hip, "At least... I've never seen one." His voice dipped a little lower as he double-checked that the quiet-as-usual building had only the other Temple-goer as company, "Unless thralls count? Not the sorts of thing you see in movies though. That's besides the point, a bat has nice reach, but I'm sure if you talk to some of the other agents you could get a better recommendation."
Iris bobs her head from side to side, claiming "Eh, would it really surprise you now? Ghosts, ghouls and goblins, really, what will TV think of next?"
Well, the question of zombies being real or not - this is Haven. Haven is an odd place where magic flows incredibly strong and some do dedicate themselves to the dark arts; it is close to the gates after all. But that question won't be answered here today, there is another *SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK* this time it is coming from another direction. The air feels like it is quite heavy, and if one were to listen closely to the squeaking- does it sound... pained? Twisted, forced... HURTING. It is animalistic, the shadows seem to creep closer, dance dimly along the floor where it falls under the light of the room, like small and little tendrils in a barely noticeable, swaying movement.
Viorel pauses as the sound gets closer, his attention ripped away from Iris as his ears twitch ever-so slightly.
Iris quirks an eyebrow and swivels her head around, eyes and head snapping around like a hunting bird trying to spot something "Did you see or hear something? What is it, Fido?" She asked with a grin on her face, trying not to laugh at her own joke.
Viorel groans at Iris's quip, "You're a fucking menace." He clicks his tongue as he replies, distracting him from the sound for a but a moment, "Don't you hear it? Kinda sounds like putting stress or a joint... Or when a tree is about to fall down, that sort of thing." Instinctively, he begins to unload the less-than-lethal rounds from his firearm, instead reaching into his parka and withdrawing a few red shells.
Iris shakes her head but instinctively slips her vest on, latching the velcro on tight and squinting "Excuse me for not hearing the soundtrack the viewers hear when watching a horror movie, that's not how life works."
"Yeah, you probably hear a laugh track every time you stop talking." Viorel replies in a flat tone, sliding the shells in one-by-one before racking the lever.
Iris can't help but laugh at the answer, shaking her head and saying "Can't argue with that logic."
Viorel hears it, now that he is listening closely. It is not just one squeak, some are just closer. Agitated, wounded, pained, it is the twisted squeak of rats, under the boxing run, in the walls where they should not be - a small army of squeaking and as he listens on to it for a couple more seconds, they start to sound more and more... agitated, unhealthy. And they every EVERYWHERE.
Now that Viorel pointed it out, and if Iris takes a moment now, too. She can hear it, not the way Viorel does, less clear, but there is agitated squeaking coming from some of the different places around the both of them. They both equip and make ready for whatever it is that is happening, and clearly, they are starting to prepare. Then there is suddenly silence, but the tension continues to hang in the air.
Iris grips her clawhammer tightly in her left hand and pulls out her handgun, adopting a more defensive and serious posture. "You were right on the money, I can hear it, but what the hell is that? Wouldn't be the first time I smacked rats with a hammer, and it even does look like the old warehouse..."
While he glanced around the room, eyes frantically looking for the source of the sound, Viorel slipped a few extra shells into the hold that was strapped to the side. "Not great..." He murmured to himself, gaze ticking over to Iris as she pulled out her own firearm. "Not so funny now, is it? But if it's just rats... We just need to call the exterminators. But it doesn't quite sound like rats." Sucking his teeth, he took his attention to the exit of the room, instinctively drawing towards it as he kept his attention moving.
Viorel quickly adds on in a query towards Iris, "You had your rabies shots?"
Iris taps the side of her chin with her hammer "Yep, got bit by a dog once. Same with tetanus and a few others, but let's hope it doesn't come to that."
And then - a single rat skitters out from some of the machinery in the room, and audaciously places itself in front of the door. It glares and stares up at Viorel and at Iris, smelling the air for a second, and then another, and then *SQUEAK* A whole group of rats skitter along one of the corner of the walls, climbing over and atop each other ontop some of the equipment, another group scours out from under the boxing ring. And there is silence again, for a few, tender and precious second, until all at once they squeak. Now it doesn't sound agitated, hurting... there is nothing emotional about it, beyond a symphony of crazed madness.
Iris stares at the rat for a few solid seconds, observing it and the whole group skitter their way under the boxing ring. "Yeah, this place definitely needs an exterminator, this doesn't look like the kind of thing a few of those tiny plastic boxes of poison would fix. Hear something?" These final words addressed to Viorel with an inquisitive look on her face.
"Well- I guess it is rats... A lot of them." Viorel notes the obvious easily, eyes flicking over to Iris, "Think you've got enough hammer for all over them." He snickers, not quite taking the situation seriously yet, tension only mounting as the number of rodents increases. "I don't even know if I /can/ get rabies... Anyway, if any more show up, I'm gonna blast the ones at the door, then we can make a fun for it, da?"
Iris looks over towards the door, then her hammer and then the ring, answering "I don't think a hammer is going to do the trick here, yeah. And you really think rats would try to block us in?"
The threat is spoken by Viorel, and the rats, hearing it or not - start to skitter around now. Their group grows and grows with another bunch of rats, and if this was a tabletop session, they would be called a swarm as they skitter across the ground. They jump up and down, and for a moment it is a very acrobatic kind of sport. Then they all stop, and they all start to stare at Iris and Viorel again. From the side of Iris' eye, she can notices something, a camera that has not been here in this establishment before. It idly hangs in the corner from the ceiling, placed with some gluey stripes to the wall, easy to remove, if one wanted, but it is there.
Then all at once, the entire swarm begins to squeak aggressively and to turn their way towards both Iris and Viorel.
Iris braces her firearm against her other hand's forearm, preparing to shoot or strike while adopting what one would consider a fighting stance, giving a quick side-eye to Viorel to say "Looks like we'll have to deal with them." She paced closer and closer to Viorel, leaning in to whisper "Someone's probably watching is, that camera wasn't there before. Your call on this one, think we should grab it before we smash it or shoot it?"
"Well, fat chance you've got with that hammer, don't happen to have a spray-can with those art supplies you got? And- make your call." Viorel asks aside, barely giving Iris a momentary glance before squeezing the trigger. The end of his boomstick flashes a cross of vaporized gunpowder as the buckshot flies from the tube, gun levied at the pile of rats as it kicks into his shoulder.
*BAM* resounds and echoes painfully LOUDLY through the room as a bullet is fired with live ammunition and it shreds straight into the swarm. There is nothing to aim for here, it's a swarm and some will certainly day fire of a shotgun and it is perhaps one of the most effective weapon to aim and target a swarm with. Several of the rodents become splatters on the floor, tiny bits and pieces of meat, bone and innards fly and splatter across the ground. It slows some of the rats and turns them more into a line and when they draw close enough to Iris, a swing of a bat smashes another three.
Still, they got close now, and did one, a particularly black and fat rat just jump onto Iris's hammer just as she swung, and jump down again? Yeah that ugly motherfucker of a rat did. They try to bite and scratch at the soles of Viorel's combat boots and at Iris' jackboots. And there is some that then also try too start to climb up along the boot itself, if allowed to happen.
Iris paces back and swings the hammer wildly around, taking a moment turn around and flick a bullet at the camera in the corner. A swarm wasn't easy to take down, but a stroke of genius hit the woman when she reached into her back to pull out a secret weapon. Kicking off one of the rats, the woman called out towards Viorel "Hey, you smoke? Got a lighter?" Without waiting on a response, the secret weapon was revealed: a good ol' fashioned bottle of fuckup juice from the Sludgefukk, full, quality grade alcohol and drain cleaner, tossing it at the ground in front of the swarm. "Do something badass, fangs."
"Fucker-" Viorel mutters as he kicks the rat off from his shoe, letting it fling across the room. "I do." He quickly replies as the question cuts through the room, his eyes drawn to the glass as it smashes across the panelled flooring of the boxing studio. "It's my damn favorite lighter too." The complaint runs hollow as he reaches into his parka and pulls out a cross-engraved zippo.
A few flicks fail to catch a spark as Viorel's attention is split between the rats and the task itself, finally sputtering into life on the third attempt. With a suck of his teeth, he underhands the lighter at the splashed puddle of drain-cleaner inspired alcohol.
Exploding, the camera was now no more, as the bullet penetrates straight through the lense and takes out all of its inside machinery. There is a hole in the wall now, but the equipment all clatters down to the ground, and more than that, the rat now seem... less aggressive? The clattering up the legs stop, their squeaking is just a touch less aggressive, and then they get soaked into alcohol as a glass bottle smashes on front and onto them, shards fling, liquid spills, and it is just enough to cover most of them with their now slowed aggression. Then fire is added to the alcohol and they all spark up in flames. Squeaks sound like screams and they star to all skitter apart and to burn to death. In truth, it is a very cruel kind of dying, their squeaks don't cease until the their very last moment and they also certainly cause for some of the equipment to catch on fire, too. A fire alarm starts to blare off from the ceiling, water starts to spray down and to soak the burning equipment, corpses and the living all...
From one corner, there is that single rat again, the one that's jumped onto Iris's weapon. It looks to Iris and Viorel intelligently, perhaps meeting their eyes, before then skiting off into a little hole in the wall.
"What a mess..." Viorel murmurs to himself, crouching down aside the fire to check if his zippo was left intact. He didn't quite notice the rat that ran up upon Iris's weapon, far more occupied with the death of his favorite passtime.
"Do you think we'll get charged for this? I mean- We did set a fire in the middle of a boxing studio..." With a sigh, Viorel hops back to his feet, charred zippo in-hand. "You got all your bits, no bites? Rabies after all." He asked rather casually, attention finally drawn upon Iris again.
Iris swings around a few more times until she sees the fireball created by that gross mixture some might call a drink. Its spread and plume made the woman burst into a loud cackle, ticking a pyromania she did not know she had. Loud laughing drowned out both the squeaking and the fire suppression system now in effect, her foot starting to stomp out at a few of the dead rats. "Ha! Ha-ha! Yes, yes. Yes! Boo-yah! That's now you do it." She exclaimed, pumping her fist a few times like an excited football player who just scored a touchdown, catching a glimpse of the rat that scurried off. "What? No, fuck that, this was an accident due to faulty wiring, and I think we're not done here." The last words coming from her mouth as she pointed to the hole in the wall.
No rabies and no bites... Viorel and Iris were quite effective in breaking this kind of infestation, alas, the black rat? Does not return and there is the distant sound of sirens that warn of an ever-approaching unit of emergency vehicles. It is likely an automated system that calls for them on a fire outbreak, and with no testing announced, clearly they are coming to do their job.
"Should probably kick it before we get stuck answering questions and filling out forms, yeah?" Viorel easily prompts to Iris, "If I'm stuck being questioned while the sun is up, I'll feel it for the rest of the week."
Iris hoisted her finger up towards Viorel, approaching the wall where the small hole was and tapping it a few times with her elbow before smacking the hammer a few times to test it out. Was it dry wall ready to be smashed through, was it solid brick or something else "Hold on just a moment before we skip place."
Viorel settles a hand on his hip, eyebrow raised as Iris steps over to the wall, "Got the horror soundtrack playing in your mind?" He snickered in a blatant callback, "Did all seem a little weird, but I don't think you can interrogate rodents."
Iris says "Interrogate? I have a nine millimeter microphone in my right hand, fangs."
Iris finds the wall to be particularly fragile there, and there is another rat or two that get to fall down and then try to skitter away audibly. They must have had their nest here for a time now, and there is still more rats hiding in the walls and in the building. But none come to move to attack either Iris or Viorel anymore. In the distance, the sirens are drawing ever closer, there is still a little bit more time if they needed it, a minute or two, before sliding away might prove difficult. Viorel would know this certainly, having a more precise and acute sense for hearing, he knows there was still time, but not for long, before needing to make a narrow escape.
Iris turns to Viorel and says "Alright, I think we should go, but first things first, this place, it's supposed to be empty, right? No other people right now besides you and I?"
Viorel clearly gets antsy as time passes, "C'mon Iris, it's just some damn feral rats. You wanna spend the rest of your day filling out paperwork? It's not gonna look good, we're both rookies." He complained, pacing back and forth before she finally replied, "And yeah, this place is pretty much always empty. No idea why, it's not a bad spot but the place is still under construction."
Iris motions with her hand as she plants the hammer back into her workbag and slowly lifts her now-free hand to her ear pointing the wall, covering it. The other one holds her firearm at the wall as she says "Knock knock." to herself. What follows is Iris firing several times into the wall, unloading bullet after bullet until the gun clicks to signal an empty magazine, moving her hand around to spread the area of fire for a bit. After that, she motions with two fingers, calling out "Alright, let's dip to the nearby intersection."
It is not just this floor that proves to be empty tonight, no, the entire facility is at silence when Iris and Viorel make their way down and then out, to escape from the situation that the fire department, or even the sheriff department may put them through when they do arrive here. There, however, is one, last and small thing that does draw attention, not to Viorel, but to Iris. Outside is a man, just finishing up closing the buttons on his coat. His hair is long and black, and on the first sight, he must look just like a weirdo and creep on first sight. He even has some sunglasses to hide his eyes. But there is this tiny symbol that Iris notices, at the hem of his coat. It is barely visible, small, it is colored and looks like a golden dagger plunged through a shadowy globe. He is, of course, moving away though, towards a black van that houses people in both the front and passenger seat.
Iris squints at the man as the two approach, reloading on the way down and giving Viorel a quick nudge "That guy." She said, pointing to the man moving towards the van. "I recognize that symbol, I was with the others with the Mongolia thing, he's with the Golden Shadow."
Viorel glances over to Iris as they meld into the crowd that had gathered, "Should probably keep your tone down." He sighed, following her glance over to the fellow she pointed out, "Think they were just checking it out or to do with it? You'd think the shadowy cabal would have more to do than to play pied piper." A snicker drew from his lips as he pulled the hood of his parka up, the coming noon ever on his mind.
And yet, there was the camera, there was the black rat that escaped, but it could all mean very little. Iris knows no more than she had seen or experienced about the Golden Shadow, Viorel on the other hand does have the basics down. The camera? The man? Could it be shapeshifting? Could it have been a ritual of some sort to enact a certain scene, and the camera- was there a price on something with this? Had they been targeted or was this coincidental? The one thing that is clear is that money and some sort of profit were involved. The man enters the Van through the side door, cautious to not reveal anything to anyone, and they are about to drive off. The sirens from the emergency vehicles already sound to be very close, as if they are soon to arrive.
Iris stashes her weapons away in the workbag that held all sorts of museum giftshop stickers on it, turning to Viorel to say "We should be off now, EMS will be here shortly."
Viorel steps over to his ride, popping open the trunk to toss his longarm into. "You're telling me, need a ride? Otherwise you can always hop into that trash heap you call a van." He grins, tone playful as he prods and pokes, "Should probably tell the folks about this though, once they're about. I gotta speak to my handler either way." The man explains casually despite the weird circumstance as he slips into the driver's seat of his Pontiac Firebird.
Iris moves over to her *badass* and totally not shit rustbucket van, patting the side and jumping in to become inconspicuous.