Encounterlogs
Ritsukas Odd Encounter Sr Iris 241115
In the peculiar ambiance of Biolabs Pharmaceuticals, a setting familiar yet unsettlingly sterile, Ritsuka and Illyana's encounter with a severely wounded man in a torn and bloodied suit unfolds into a narrative of suspense and danger. The man, bearing deep mortal wounds, collapses upon the pharmacy's pristine floor, ushering a warning of a murderous psychopath lurking nearby. This ominous intrusion shatters the day's monotony, prompting Ritsuka, the pharmacy owner well-versed in handling unusual predicaments, and Illyana, a being of considerable power and disdain for the mundane, into action. Despite Illyana's initial indifference, the gruesome state of the stranger and the ensuing chaos captivate her morbid curiosity, leaving the resolution of this grim scene squarely on Ritsuka's shoulders.
The narrative escalates as Illyana and Ritsuka confront the source of the havoc; a monstrous creature rampaging in search of something within the pharmacy's backroom. Amidst the horror of torn medication boxes and the grotesque sight of deceased employees, they unveil a werewolf-like entity consumed by its frenetic quest. The confrontation reaches its zenith with Illyana unleashing her devastating firepower upon the beast, an act endorsed by Ritsuka's command to inflict suffering. This ruthless engagement, coupled with Illyana's relentless assault, culminates in the beast's explosive demise, an outcome equally shocking and tragic. The aftermath leaves Ritsuka grappling with the ethical implications of their actions, whilst Illyana, displaying rare moments of introspection and regret, suggests a hasty retreat into the nightmare realm as law enforcement approaches. The duo's partnership, tested amidst the chaos, emerges stronger, albeit shadowed by the profound realization of the destructive potential they wield together.
(Ritsuka's odd encounter(SRIris):SRIris)
[Thu Nov 14 2024]
In Biolabs Pharmaceuticals - OTC & Supplements
Even the blind would be able to tell that they've just entered a pharmacy. The scent of isopropyl alcohol is the first to greet the senses. The tile flooring makes spills and accidents a breeze to clean, and even a speck of dust would stand out against all that pristine white. All the aisles are labeled with letters large enough for myopic townies, and the fluorescent lights wash everything in their true hues.
A pair of chimes that feature frosted glass tubes and shimmering silver accents, resembling icicles hanging from a snowy tree branch, are hung up by the door.
It is morning, about 44F(6C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
"Did he apologize?" Ritsuka suddenly asks, rather blunt before she looks past someone to Illyana, to whom she smiles genuinely to. "Welcome back, Yana. I came back to gett a little bit more work in. Codeine is next on my to-do list." She looks back down to a form and writes something else in kanji down.
Having just entered the pharmacy, Illyana smiles to Ritsuka, moving to the counter where she leans casually.
The pharmacy is eerily empty, no clerk or customer in sight, the only sound at the moment being the idle hum of neon lights from above. This silence was broken as the door to the back swings open and in tumbles a man dressed from head to toe in a snazzy black suit. Or at least it would be a snazzy suit were it not for the fact that it was ripped apart around the chest area and drenched in blood. His hand clutches at the chest, trying to stem the tide of blood as he stumbles down and against the counter. He's rocking a military buzzcut and a pair of sunglasses, coughing loudly.
Ritsuka looks a little pensive when the man enters, and of course, in that moment, she glances around for the people she employs. There is times where customers do not visit, that is never out of the unusual, but no staff? Her eyes narrow, far too suspicious now, and she gives the man a very pensive look. "Is this going to be another weird ritual cursing?" She asks, holding her breathe.
The man's hand tightens around his chest, blood pouring from him like an open faucet. His lips part to say something but only a harsh cough escapes them, staining his mustache with all manners of bodily fluids. After a few seconds, he swallows emptily and answers "Ack, that fucking bastard, fu- ack." Which wasn't exactly useful, deciding to pepper in a bit more exposition with "You two, acgh, run, there's some deranged psychopath here, call the authorities, ahn, I don't think I'll make it."
"Looking up at the disruption from the back and the subsequent arrival of the /totally snazzy official-looking/ fellow with the buzz cut, Illyana looks him over with disinterest; It's something she should likely care more about, though her gaze slides over and through the man, even as his heart's blood pumps out of him most disgustingly. There's a look of disgust, as though this man were a piece of dirt that needed to be cleaned from the tip of her boot, and she makes to start a conversation with Ritsuka, perfectly happy to ignore it- This isn't Illyana's problem anyway, it's Ritsuka's, being the pharmacy's owner. There's a moment-- A long long moment where Illyana struggles with the instinct to enjoy the man's suffering, then another as she feels guilt for the very thought. Then she just decides to... wait to see how Ritsuka would like to handle this. Because tossing him right on back out the back door would be easy enough, even for Ritsuka.
(Attempted repost because jesus christ) Looking up at the disruption from the back and the subsequent arrival of the /totally snazzy official-looking/ fellow with the buzz cut, Illyana looks him over with disinterest; It's something she should likely care more about, though her gaze slides over and through the man, even as his heart's blood pumps out of him most disgustingly. There's a look of disgust, as though this man were a piece of dirt that needed to be cleaned from the tip of her boot, and she makes to start a conversation with Ritsuka, perfectly happy to ignore it- This isn't Illyana's problem anyway, it's Ritsuka's, being the pharmacy's owner. There's a moment-- A long long moment where Illyana struggles with the instinct to enjoy the man's suffering, then another as she feels guilt for the very thought. Then she just decides to... wait to see how Ritsuka would like to handle this. Because tossing him right on back out the back door would be easy enough, even for Ritsuka.
Ritsuka goes on to roll her eyes and she tells the man "Just sit down. You are at a pharmacy and I am trained for this, and my friend here is a very trained bodyguard." She says, and then grabs by some bandages off the shelf from another department and returns with the necessary items to stabilize the man. "What is about this psychopath, mister?" She asks, slow, more in a routine-manner of asking.
The man's injuries look to be very deep to the point where they reach through his lungs and even reveal his back, four lines cutting deep. His left lung is torn while the pulmonary arteries are severed, this is what a medical professional would call dead-on-arrival and it seems that it's mostly pure willpower and gumption that are keeping him going for these last few moments. Several other small injuries dot his body, but they are not as fatal as this carving. His glasses fall off to the side to reveal blue eyes that gave Illyana a cold stare, turning to look at Ritsuka to say "In the back, he can't be- ah-ah.-ah." His breathing starts to grow weary and ragged as his eyes close. "Tatal nostru care esti in cer-." he mouths off, a prayer being the last thing he says prior to expiring.
There's a loud commotion coming from the back alongside squelching noises and rattling ones. Whoever did this was likely still around.
Hearing the fellow out- Ritsuka has this- Illyana listens, smells the air and looks around, stepping behind the counter and toward the back door. Perfectly confident that she's fully capable of burning any problem to death- And faster than most, Illyana waits for possible attack from that direction, very capable and very willing to slow anyone down, or run to catch the issue if need be.
"You're dealing with this corpse." Illyana mentions conversationally to Ritsuka. "I did the last ones."
The backroom was a complete mess, boxes of medication ripped and bitten open. Two of the clerks were standing still, staring directly towards the entrance in some form of trance. Another one was on the ground with his guts exploded out, viscera painting the shelf next to him like party streamers. The culprit was apparently scavenging through the boxes of medicine, tossing about all sorts of pills, bottles and containers in search for something. He looked human for the most part, a towering being wearing a grey hoodie. The most outstanding feature was a large clawed hand that seemed to dip into the nearby corpse to rip off chunks of flesh and skin that served as little treats. It spoke to itself loudly "It has to be here, somewhere here."
Sharing this with Ritsuka, Illyana asks, her hand beginning to glow with fire. "How much of the back is going to explode if I throw a fireball?"
Ritsuka throws her hands up. "Of course I do, Yana." She supposes, shaking her head and she picks up her own phone now and enters a number on it. Sheriff department in fact, they know how to handle and deal with this discretely. "Ohayo, someone's walked into the pharmacy. Injuries were lethal, could not save the man. Mind sending out a team to handle-" Then she sees that someone had actually dared to touch her staff. Hurt them. Messed with their heads. There is not a lot that can compare to the fury of the divine and the sheer hatred of the other. She simply reaches for her sleeve, a wakizashi coming from it. "Got to be a frenzied Werewolf, Yana." Those words are calm. "No way to bypass sanctuary otherwise. Make it suffer." And when Illyana asks that much, she tries to quickly reach for the two other staffer and pull them back with her, out of reach or danger from Illyana's fire.
"Make it suffer." Those are words Illyana likes to hear as it means that she can cut loose in full. Still, this is Ritsuka's property, and Illyana does not want to destroy it- Or overwhelm the narrative or the completely externally- Non-meta existance of the story runner. So with eyes on the target, inhuman speed and strength, the abilities of an angel and the rage of a demon, she begins to glow, eyes flaring with light; Illyana is not subtle, and when her powers activate, they very much are something that needs covering up- So she tosses a fireball, then the weight around this attacker doubles as it's burdened. Illyana's fists glow, having become fiery weapons in their own rights, and her features twist into a hate-filled thing, the temperature rising as she superjumps onto the figure, trying to overwhelm it with fire, strength, heat, gravity and overwhelming violence.
The staff members appear to be almost rock solid in their demeanor, though are easily pulled away, their bodies only slightly rigid while in this trance. The beast turns around to reveal itself. Its face was a contorted mess, roiling flesh bubbling over mangy fur, four sets of eyes indented into its head that all focused like laserbeams over to the two. While one hand had very long claws, the other almost appeared vestigial, holding on to a yellow bottle it bit the cap off of. Its contents were spilled into its mouth with it loudly chewing them out. A few snarling noises are heard as it contorts and stretches, poised to strike. The bottle tumbles to the floor and rattles, a small warning sign on tis side and the words 'nitroglycerin'.
The fire rips right through the beast's clothing, uncovering it to reveal its twisted form. Fur and flesh battle for dominance over its body, sharing it only with infected buboes and puss filled blisters. It managed to lunge at the two, but found itself slammed into the floor mid-air, cracking the floor tiling and letting out a sickening crack.
There's more to its suffering than burning and the crushing weight of its body. What might've been drowned out by the dying man now became evident, a chest tightness like no other, a numbing pain, all of this somehow alleviated and replaced with burning.
Ritsuka drags the two of her staff further out of the building and slaps them - out of the trance. She knows about trance at least and knows that it is something fuckle. Illyana is a monster and a combatant in her own right, so there is no worry in her for the other. "Hide and wait for the Sheriffs." She tells the staff with a tone that's... dark. Darker than they had ever hear her speak and she turns back around, back into the pharmacy, protected by the kami of the cult she belongs to, empowering both herself and Illyana further in the way of protection. "Don't worry about damages," She tells Illyana when she returns. "That can be repaired." She looks to where the body of the dead staffer lies. "That life won't." The words are cold, almost steely and now, for a first she looks the monster over, properly, looking what is wrong with it, where it is hurting, looking for its weaknesses.
Perfectly content to keep pounding this poor creature to mush, Illyana doesn't stop, waiting for Ritsuka for new instructions if they are to come; Illyana will regret this later, but she is angelborn, and therefore follows instruction easy. But she is also demonic, and violence comes all-too-easy. So though she /wants to make this thing suffer/ she is still aware- And perceptive enough to note that it was seeking pain relief- Or something, and though it's a violent monster (Who is Illyana to talk) she recognizes that this is not the way to deal with situations entirely. So in full knowledge that this fleshformed abomination is violent and dangerous- And is endangering Ritsuka's workers, she punches, kicks and continues to assault the monster with as much violence as she can bring; It'll all work out perfectly fine, obviously. What coulde possibly go wrong? And besides, this is protecting the weak, so she's basically a hero- Right?
What wasn't wrong with this beast? Its body looked like a vector of infection, its flailing body attempting to swipe about at the two present. It wasn't able to withstand the continuous assault but instead of dying outright, the burning beast swung its large arm around in a wide arc, missing the two however. It then curled up into a fetal position, apparently weeping. This weeping ended when its chest apparently exploded, violently spreading its innards forth towards Illyana and Ritsuka. While Illyana seemed mostly spared of the viscera shower, Ritsuka would not be as lucky, instead directly in the path of it. Turns out that a burning creature under constant assault that just swallowed an entire bottle of nitroglycerin is a volatile thing to attack.
It is then perhaps that the weight of it just settles onto Ritsuka. There is guilt in her eyes, somewhere she had hoped it could be dropped unconscious, even if she desired it to perish. A call to a friend, and the thing could have likely been handled by those more suited to handle this kind of thing than she was. She was an Orderite, but she never once learned from anyone to deal or handle situations like these with feral beasts or werewolves. It is then, too, that she starts to pale. It starts to feel dizzy, everything does not look so real anymore and then she simply drops, fainting.
Dodging the majority of the very visceral viscera onslaught, Illyana whistles. After using one of the hypnotized worker's labcoats to wipe her hands- Then grabbing a bottle of hand sanitiser and applying it liberally to her fists and forearms, she smirks at Ritsuka. "That'll take more than a shower." Then, as pragmatism is the order of the day, she begins to riffle through the thing's pockets, looking for anything that might be important to pass onto the authorities- Thank any god listening that the HDP is used to the supernatural- And there's the scorch marks, burning product and volitility of the chemicals... Oh yes, and also the corpse next door. There's likely more to do with this than a simple breaking and entering. (@me is actually rather smart, though her wisdom is lacking in spades) "So..." Illyana asks Ritsuka, "What next?"
Illyana meant the HSD. Stupid americans and not calling things department of police.
Rifling through the beast's pockets doesn't yield much. There is a wallet, but it's so burnt out that the only thing that survived is an expired Blockbuster card and one of those metal survival card tools that has no real life use, even the leather on the wallet flaking off. The employees are still stupefied, though the look in their eyes is telling of the fact that they will eventually wake up from this. Despite the copious amounts of yellow-white stained blood and puss that would need more than just a bit of Mr Clean to go away, this could easily pass for a chemical fire started from improper storage of rubbing alcohol or other medical solvents.
Ritsuka lies motionlessly on the ground. There are no wounds or other signs of harm other than having been dirtied up at least. So likely she is just fine.
Not expecting that sudden onset bout of unconsciousness from Ritsuka, Illyana doesn't even notice or a long moment. She's used to hardened supernaturals with training- Or insane supernaturals like her with no training but forced experience, so when she does notice, there's a moment of confusion. What should she do? Well, moving Ritsuka away from the goop is likely the first step, so abandoning the search, she does the right? thing; It's certainly the most human thing- And moves Ritsuka bodily to sit her in a more healthy place for her to recover. That's right, the next room with the other corpse. Though Illyana is still a monster. Ritsuka is a friend, and Illyana cares about her, but the workers are only human, and in spite of all else, it's all too easy to forget about them. It's unintentional, but they are left in the room with the monster mush all the same. So what? Wait for Ritsuka to wake? Hell no. Ritsuka is the brains here, so Illyana attempts to wake her with, of course, her staggering medical skill. Which is to say, zero, so she plucks a bottle of water out of her handbag, pours it over Ritsuka's head and hopes that does the trick.
The adrenaline winds down, the atmosphere seems less tense and even the air appears to grow lighter, as if something was lifted from the room itself. Seems this beast is now slain. The corpse that Ritsuka was set next to was disemboweled from the lower torso down. The upper part looked like a person just sunbathing while its lower section resembled a set piece from a classic horror moving set. The distant wail of police sirens indicated one thing: authorities would eventually reach the place.
The water does do its intended purpose, she was a healthy young girl after all, and some would say, beyond just healthy but she shakes up. There is a few seconds of disorientation on Ritsuka, looking to Illyana and then to the body. It's when she grows a touch more pale again. Why did it have to be a disembowelment of course. Of course it had to be. There are words that go through her mind, and a question she does not openly share and the distant sirens has her tell Illyana "The Sheriffs are suited to handle this situation. They will cover it up and handle the bodies and any public inquiries." She reaches up to her features, pinching the bridge of her nose, as much as an asian woman has one, the full memory sinking in. "Did we do the right thing, Yana? Did we do what we need to do?"
Illyana struggles with that for a moment, pondering before responding. "I think so." she tells Ritsuka after a moment. Then of course, she remembers the workers; It's as if having someone around her who is reacting like a human brings out those tendencies in Illyana, too, if sluggish and stunted. So moving back again, the bohemian breaks the trance of each of the workers *slap* *slap* the smack of flesh on flesh can be heard before she returns. "Your people might be traumatised. Do you want me to amnesia them and compell them to go home or..." Surely, Illyana meant compell and amnesia, but one just cant tell. There's a circling gesture and she adds, "We could just let them go to the clinic for rehab..." Trailing off again, Illyana thinks it over before shaking her head. "Amnesia is likely better. But there's also the societies. We should let someone know. This is something the Temple will want to point at as monster madness, the Hand likely have something to do with, and that the Order needs to know about. I think you had a contact with them?" she asks of Ritsuka.
Of course it was disembowelment, the entire room now looked like what Quentin Tarantino wet dream, save for the fact that everyone was wearing shoes. The wail of sirens drew closer and closer while the clerks appeared to be animating, if only a little bit, by moving their fingers about and blinking. Maybe it was a good time to plan whether they'd explain this to some dorky deputy or skedaddle.
"I can call Lucienne with the Order." Ritsuka makes a nod to Illyana and her own eyes to to the direction where her staffer are and she tells Illyana "Amnesia and a way home. I'll lost the day off as shop closed midday due to chemical danger in improper storage." At least Illyana gives her something to hold onto, something to entangle her head on, something to keep her together. She rises to her feel, and she feels sick in her stomach, but now isn't the time to. Not now and she joins Illyana with the other two. "Someday... Someday we will handle these situations on our own, with the cult." She decides, the words tender, but still, a touch firm.
"We will." Illyana nods to Ritsuka, then she gets to work; Her sunglasses come off and already tranced, Illyana compells one of the workers to go home, burn their clothing and wash profusely- Then to forget about this day of work ad the events, recalling them as though they happened in a dream. It's the basic bitch answer to supernatural exposure after all and low effort. So as Ritsuka tends to the other, she finishes up, then ducks out the back, waiting for Ritsuka. With luck, the special deputies will deal with this as Ritsuka's contact deals with the information spread via Venice.
The clerk stares at Illyana with a wide, gaping mouth, drool dribbling out of his mouth as he nods along to the command. He turns around and leaves through the door, his bloodied, singed clothing waving in the wind outside. The other clerk is staring at Ritsuka as if waiting for her to say something while the noise of sirens now appears to have reached its apogee.
Unfortunately for everyone, Ritsuka is not someone possessing of hypnotism to that level. It isn't for her to do, and there is a groan that actually manages to escape her. Yeah, power suddenly does not seem so bad anymore Ritsuka, huh? At least that is a thought she does not openly share. "Jesse, it is best you forget what happened here today. Go home, get rid of those clothes, take a few days on paid leave, and when you are back, we can talk about it." This is the best that she can do. She does reach over to squeeze the woman's arm, and then turns around to follow after Illyana. She does not mention it, if Illyana hadn't noticed.
The clerk turns around and marches off all the same, all while footsteps are heard inside of the main room of the pharmacy. In walked a short, feminine looking man wearing thick-rimmed glasses and donning a brown highway ranger outfit. He tips his hat upwards and glances at the scene, apparently used to what's going on. His voice is quite high pitched as he calls out "Hey! Anyone there? Come out, this is Assistant Deputy McGlockin, I'm here to help."
Illyana most certainly just assumed. Being what she is, and being X-Hand, she simply believed Ritsuka to have the ability to deal with psychic problems, so this poor person is going to be traumatised for the rest of her life-- Or until Illyana is told about it and nightmare pulls her to wipe her mind later- Which ever comes first. Not that she'd say this to Ritsuka. "You did good." Illyana comforts, giving Ritsuka a squeeze. "These things are hard to deal with and it never gets easier. But you will learn to develop ways to handle it." the bohemian adds, as though Ritsuka were one of the people out-sourced to her to train. "I'm sorry this was how it happened." - And yes, curiously, Illyana does appear to be sorry. Her expression is jaded, but it is also empathetic. Though unlike Ritsuka, Illyana is an angelborn, ad recovers from these traumatic situations by very healthily compartmentalizing them away and forgetting about them, which isn't a problem and doesn't cause long term psychological issues and sociopathy, no matter what any psychiatrist might tell you.
"Should we- speak to the Deputy, Yana?" Ritsuka quietly whispers to Illyana, though she now tries squeeze Illyana on the upper arm, it's a simple tell if allowed - Ritsuka is going to be fine. Eventually. But there is also something tense, something brooding to it. Another thought added to a list of thoughts. "This city is cruel. The Sheriff department usually knows how to handle this stuff Yana and cover it up. They do have the experience for it, but we can escape if you would prefer?"
The footsteps could be heard growing a bit closer, the nerdy deputy now in the doorway to the back room. His head is shaken from side to side at the display, noticing the sheer amount of blood, the dessicated monstrosity. His stomach didn't churn but his mind did wander and suffer: so much paperwork ahead of the poor man. The two were out of reach for the moment as he asked once more "Anyone here? You were just exposed to hazardous fumes, you might be hallucinating, come out and we can help you."
"Mmmm." Illyana makes that thoughtful noise as she thinks this through. She has nothing to hide, but Illyana has already invaded the mind of one person to unutterably and erevocably toy with their mind today, and she doesn't feel like answering any questions. So with that knowledge, and the fact she doesn't want to think of herself as a monster inspite of the overwelming evidence shakes her head. "I think you're more important here." she decides. "And you are a non-native of america owning a property that could be seen as agrivatory, especially with the governmental changes. So here's what we do; We enter the nightmare, walk off and let the special deputies deal with that mess. And we take you to talk to someone who's good with mental health." Then, not waiting and just assuming Ritsuka will follow, enters the nightmare and waits.
As one might expect, entering the nightmare, pulling this creature then dealing with it would have been the more clean problem solving method, but Illyana most certainly didn't think about that when there was a fight in front of her. She may in fact be a monster, even if she tells herself that she's a hero.
Of course, Illyana is not wrong. The recent election has created a push to America first, and even Ritsuka has experienced something like that, and it is more through the use of her contacts with the Hanshin group that she could force the issue to her benefit. People are changing, some too much in what they think Trump is about, and not what he is or says and whatever. The nature of politics and varying opinions, but this was not the exact moment for Ritsuka to dwell over. Illyana is a trusted friend. She knows more about Foreigners and their rude problems than she, a Japanese on a work visa does. And so - she follows the other into the nightmare.
There were plenty of ways to go into the nightmare world there and with that, the burden of actually dealing with the aftermath was left on the shoulders of some assistant deputy nerd. Whether the right thing was done did not matter, there is a point past which it's impossible to do the right thing. The beast was slain and the heroes absconded into the night(mare). One has to wonder how a werewolf would deal with cardiac arrest.
(Your target is a member or affiliate of The Destined Host, who has been having second thoughts about their involvement in the group's activities. They have been tasked with retrieving an ancient artifact that is believed to strengthen a demon's hold on the world. However, they have begun to suspect that the group's intentions are not as noble as they claim. They want to defect, but fear the consequences of betraying the group. The characters need to find a way to help them escape The Destined Host's clutches, retrieve the artifact without strengthening the demon's influence, and deal with the fallout of their actions.)
Eric is just chatting away at his friends while at the barcade - the barkeep, Sam, the brooding, funny woman Yana. He drinks some pear juice that totally isn't laced with copious amounts of vodka, and he seems to suspect nothing at all while he spends his time socialising on away.
Eric happens to just be chatting away at his friends while at the barcade - the barkeep, Sam, the brooding, funny woman Yana. He drinks some pear juice that totally isn't laced with copious amounts of vodka, and he seems to suspect nothing at all while he spends his time socialising on away. (re for new arrival)
Abruptly, the doors of the barcade swing open. As a slightly dissheveled, short punkish man shuffles his way through the door. His shoulders slouched, his head darting from side to side as he took a quick, appraising glance of the room. His hands concealed within the pockets of a rough, worn black leather jacket. Sewn with various symbols of various religions, from a crescent and star in green thread to the Leviathan cross in red.
The strangers eyes settled one by one on the various people in the room, with a bloodshot gaze as he sniffled once. Before eventually shuffling to the front counter top. Staring up at the selection of booze with a frayed look, mixed with a shot of nerves.
Sam moves along the bar, humming to himself as he cleans that glass with the same dingy dishcloth as always. He looks around the room, nodding to Eric as he does so. He definitely has not laced said pear-juice with vodka.
"Eeeeyyy! Welcome to the Trove, what can I getcha to get the games started?" A hyped up line, said many times by now, in all the seven days that Sam has owned this place. He grins at the punkish man, and smiles, eyes briefly going over the various symbols.
Turning to look the new arrival over, Eric squints at all the particular signs of edginess. It has him drag his nails over his jaw, and soon shake his head a couple times. He barely offers up a "Sup, fam," but seems otherwise perfectly glad to let Sam do the talking. Long, thin fingers wrap around his glass, and he drinks on away while looking on to what conversation may ensure with one eye shut.
With a sigh, the stranger looked to Sam and shot him a small smile. His teeth yellowed, with a few chips. Running a hand through his half-shaved hair as he gave a shrug. "Uhhhhhhh... Yeah man, can I get a seven and seven? 'Preciate it..." His voice was quiet. Barely above a whisper as he took another paranoid glance around the bar. His head almost sinking into his own body as Eric sized him up, almost shriveling up as he swiveled on the chair to face slightly further away from him.
The jacket itself had seen better days. With rough patch-and-sew jobs that merged torn pieces of leather back together, and a coterie of religious symbols delicately sewn in with cheap thread. The Star of David, An upside down cross, a Dharma wheel, and various other minor symbols that covered pretty varied religions.
Sam nods his head, and turns away from the bar. He quickly grabs a few bottles, mixing the cocktail up before he pours it out into a glass. He turns back to the man, and places it on the counter, on a little treasure-chest shaped coaster. He grins, holding out a hand. "Cash or credit?"
He leans closer a moment, eyes really studying those symbols, though he keeps a friendly, barkeeper's smile. After that cursory inspection, he goes back to his glass-polishing. Same glass. Same cloth. Squeaaaaaaak. He turns to someone. "Ey, take fifteen." He nods briefly to Eric.
Sam nods his head, and turns away from the bar. He quickly grabs a few bottles, mixing the cocktail up before he pours it out into a glass. He turns back to the man, and places it on the counter, on a little treasure-chest shaped coaster. He grins, holding out a hand. "Cash or credit?"
He leans closer a moment, eyes really studying those symbols, though he keeps a friendly, barkeeper's smile. After that cursory inspection, he goes back to his glass-polishing. Same glass. Same cloth. Squeaaaaaaak. He turns to the other bartender. "Ey, take fifteen." He nods briefly to Eric.
Eric glances over at Sam, and watches the parttime barkeep wander on away gratefully. There's a vaguely thoughtful, confused sorts of look on his face, and the man leans at an elbow some more so he can see things proceed, gaze drawing between Sam and the rando punk a little more closely with time. Definitely suspicious, and quiet as before.
With a blink, the man felt around in his pockets rapidly. Pulling out a frayed leather wallet and digging through it, "Uhhhh... You mind if I start a tab..? I might be here for a bit." He remarked. With a lashing grasp, the punk grasped the cup and drinking half of it in a single swig. Nearly dropping it back onto the bar as he buried his face in his hands. "Fuu-uuck."
Sam narrows his eyes, and looks over the man. "Eh, why not." He chuckles as the man downs that drink so fast. He briefly walks over to the entrance, turning that sign around to closed. He then leans on the bar.
"So, thirsty, or a heavy conscience, friend?" He picks up that glass again. Squeaaaaaaaaak.
just as the man began to speak, a harsh, hushed hum washed across the bar. The strangers eyes went wide, pupils shrinking, as with no explanation, he -bolted- for the door. Leaving his card as he almost crashed through the entrance, whipping it open and departing.
Eric watches the man drink down his shot a bit impassively, nails dragging over the back of his wrist a little. The thrum has him respond not at all, and then he just blinks, thrice, as the figure takes off at a sprint
The narrative escalates as Illyana and Ritsuka confront the source of the havoc; a monstrous creature rampaging in search of something within the pharmacy's backroom. Amidst the horror of torn medication boxes and the grotesque sight of deceased employees, they unveil a werewolf-like entity consumed by its frenetic quest. The confrontation reaches its zenith with Illyana unleashing her devastating firepower upon the beast, an act endorsed by Ritsuka's command to inflict suffering. This ruthless engagement, coupled with Illyana's relentless assault, culminates in the beast's explosive demise, an outcome equally shocking and tragic. The aftermath leaves Ritsuka grappling with the ethical implications of their actions, whilst Illyana, displaying rare moments of introspection and regret, suggests a hasty retreat into the nightmare realm as law enforcement approaches. The duo's partnership, tested amidst the chaos, emerges stronger, albeit shadowed by the profound realization of the destructive potential they wield together.
(Ritsuka's odd encounter(SRIris):SRIris)
[Thu Nov 14 2024]
In Biolabs Pharmaceuticals - OTC & Supplements
Even the blind would be able to tell that they've just entered a pharmacy. The scent of isopropyl alcohol is the first to greet the senses. The tile flooring makes spills and accidents a breeze to clean, and even a speck of dust would stand out against all that pristine white. All the aisles are labeled with letters large enough for myopic townies, and the fluorescent lights wash everything in their true hues.
A pair of chimes that feature frosted glass tubes and shimmering silver accents, resembling icicles hanging from a snowy tree branch, are hung up by the door.
It is morning, about 44F(6C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
"Did he apologize?" Ritsuka suddenly asks, rather blunt before she looks past someone to Illyana, to whom she smiles genuinely to. "Welcome back, Yana. I came back to gett a little bit more work in. Codeine is next on my to-do list." She looks back down to a form and writes something else in kanji down.
Having just entered the pharmacy, Illyana smiles to Ritsuka, moving to the counter where she leans casually.
The pharmacy is eerily empty, no clerk or customer in sight, the only sound at the moment being the idle hum of neon lights from above. This silence was broken as the door to the back swings open and in tumbles a man dressed from head to toe in a snazzy black suit. Or at least it would be a snazzy suit were it not for the fact that it was ripped apart around the chest area and drenched in blood. His hand clutches at the chest, trying to stem the tide of blood as he stumbles down and against the counter. He's rocking a military buzzcut and a pair of sunglasses, coughing loudly.
Ritsuka looks a little pensive when the man enters, and of course, in that moment, she glances around for the people she employs. There is times where customers do not visit, that is never out of the unusual, but no staff? Her eyes narrow, far too suspicious now, and she gives the man a very pensive look. "Is this going to be another weird ritual cursing?" She asks, holding her breathe.
The man's hand tightens around his chest, blood pouring from him like an open faucet. His lips part to say something but only a harsh cough escapes them, staining his mustache with all manners of bodily fluids. After a few seconds, he swallows emptily and answers "Ack, that fucking bastard, fu- ack." Which wasn't exactly useful, deciding to pepper in a bit more exposition with "You two, acgh, run, there's some deranged psychopath here, call the authorities, ahn, I don't think I'll make it."
"Looking up at the disruption from the back and the subsequent arrival of the /totally snazzy official-looking/ fellow with the buzz cut, Illyana looks him over with disinterest; It's something she should likely care more about, though her gaze slides over and through the man, even as his heart's blood pumps out of him most disgustingly. There's a look of disgust, as though this man were a piece of dirt that needed to be cleaned from the tip of her boot, and she makes to start a conversation with Ritsuka, perfectly happy to ignore it- This isn't Illyana's problem anyway, it's Ritsuka's, being the pharmacy's owner. There's a moment-- A long long moment where Illyana struggles with the instinct to enjoy the man's suffering, then another as she feels guilt for the very thought. Then she just decides to... wait to see how Ritsuka would like to handle this. Because tossing him right on back out the back door would be easy enough, even for Ritsuka.
(Attempted repost because jesus christ) Looking up at the disruption from the back and the subsequent arrival of the /totally snazzy official-looking/ fellow with the buzz cut, Illyana looks him over with disinterest; It's something she should likely care more about, though her gaze slides over and through the man, even as his heart's blood pumps out of him most disgustingly. There's a look of disgust, as though this man were a piece of dirt that needed to be cleaned from the tip of her boot, and she makes to start a conversation with Ritsuka, perfectly happy to ignore it- This isn't Illyana's problem anyway, it's Ritsuka's, being the pharmacy's owner. There's a moment-- A long long moment where Illyana struggles with the instinct to enjoy the man's suffering, then another as she feels guilt for the very thought. Then she just decides to... wait to see how Ritsuka would like to handle this. Because tossing him right on back out the back door would be easy enough, even for Ritsuka.
Ritsuka goes on to roll her eyes and she tells the man "Just sit down. You are at a pharmacy and I am trained for this, and my friend here is a very trained bodyguard." She says, and then grabs by some bandages off the shelf from another department and returns with the necessary items to stabilize the man. "What is about this psychopath, mister?" She asks, slow, more in a routine-manner of asking.
The man's injuries look to be very deep to the point where they reach through his lungs and even reveal his back, four lines cutting deep. His left lung is torn while the pulmonary arteries are severed, this is what a medical professional would call dead-on-arrival and it seems that it's mostly pure willpower and gumption that are keeping him going for these last few moments. Several other small injuries dot his body, but they are not as fatal as this carving. His glasses fall off to the side to reveal blue eyes that gave Illyana a cold stare, turning to look at Ritsuka to say "In the back, he can't be- ah-ah.-ah." His breathing starts to grow weary and ragged as his eyes close. "Tatal nostru care esti in cer-." he mouths off, a prayer being the last thing he says prior to expiring.
There's a loud commotion coming from the back alongside squelching noises and rattling ones. Whoever did this was likely still around.
Hearing the fellow out- Ritsuka has this- Illyana listens, smells the air and looks around, stepping behind the counter and toward the back door. Perfectly confident that she's fully capable of burning any problem to death- And faster than most, Illyana waits for possible attack from that direction, very capable and very willing to slow anyone down, or run to catch the issue if need be.
"You're dealing with this corpse." Illyana mentions conversationally to Ritsuka. "I did the last ones."
The backroom was a complete mess, boxes of medication ripped and bitten open. Two of the clerks were standing still, staring directly towards the entrance in some form of trance. Another one was on the ground with his guts exploded out, viscera painting the shelf next to him like party streamers. The culprit was apparently scavenging through the boxes of medicine, tossing about all sorts of pills, bottles and containers in search for something. He looked human for the most part, a towering being wearing a grey hoodie. The most outstanding feature was a large clawed hand that seemed to dip into the nearby corpse to rip off chunks of flesh and skin that served as little treats. It spoke to itself loudly "It has to be here, somewhere here."
Sharing this with Ritsuka, Illyana asks, her hand beginning to glow with fire. "How much of the back is going to explode if I throw a fireball?"
Ritsuka throws her hands up. "Of course I do, Yana." She supposes, shaking her head and she picks up her own phone now and enters a number on it. Sheriff department in fact, they know how to handle and deal with this discretely. "Ohayo, someone's walked into the pharmacy. Injuries were lethal, could not save the man. Mind sending out a team to handle-" Then she sees that someone had actually dared to touch her staff. Hurt them. Messed with their heads. There is not a lot that can compare to the fury of the divine and the sheer hatred of the other. She simply reaches for her sleeve, a wakizashi coming from it. "Got to be a frenzied Werewolf, Yana." Those words are calm. "No way to bypass sanctuary otherwise. Make it suffer." And when Illyana asks that much, she tries to quickly reach for the two other staffer and pull them back with her, out of reach or danger from Illyana's fire.
"Make it suffer." Those are words Illyana likes to hear as it means that she can cut loose in full. Still, this is Ritsuka's property, and Illyana does not want to destroy it- Or overwhelm the narrative or the completely externally- Non-meta existance of the story runner. So with eyes on the target, inhuman speed and strength, the abilities of an angel and the rage of a demon, she begins to glow, eyes flaring with light; Illyana is not subtle, and when her powers activate, they very much are something that needs covering up- So she tosses a fireball, then the weight around this attacker doubles as it's burdened. Illyana's fists glow, having become fiery weapons in their own rights, and her features twist into a hate-filled thing, the temperature rising as she superjumps onto the figure, trying to overwhelm it with fire, strength, heat, gravity and overwhelming violence.
The staff members appear to be almost rock solid in their demeanor, though are easily pulled away, their bodies only slightly rigid while in this trance. The beast turns around to reveal itself. Its face was a contorted mess, roiling flesh bubbling over mangy fur, four sets of eyes indented into its head that all focused like laserbeams over to the two. While one hand had very long claws, the other almost appeared vestigial, holding on to a yellow bottle it bit the cap off of. Its contents were spilled into its mouth with it loudly chewing them out. A few snarling noises are heard as it contorts and stretches, poised to strike. The bottle tumbles to the floor and rattles, a small warning sign on tis side and the words 'nitroglycerin'.
The fire rips right through the beast's clothing, uncovering it to reveal its twisted form. Fur and flesh battle for dominance over its body, sharing it only with infected buboes and puss filled blisters. It managed to lunge at the two, but found itself slammed into the floor mid-air, cracking the floor tiling and letting out a sickening crack.
There's more to its suffering than burning and the crushing weight of its body. What might've been drowned out by the dying man now became evident, a chest tightness like no other, a numbing pain, all of this somehow alleviated and replaced with burning.
Ritsuka drags the two of her staff further out of the building and slaps them - out of the trance. She knows about trance at least and knows that it is something fuckle. Illyana is a monster and a combatant in her own right, so there is no worry in her for the other. "Hide and wait for the Sheriffs." She tells the staff with a tone that's... dark. Darker than they had ever hear her speak and she turns back around, back into the pharmacy, protected by the kami of the cult she belongs to, empowering both herself and Illyana further in the way of protection. "Don't worry about damages," She tells Illyana when she returns. "That can be repaired." She looks to where the body of the dead staffer lies. "That life won't." The words are cold, almost steely and now, for a first she looks the monster over, properly, looking what is wrong with it, where it is hurting, looking for its weaknesses.
Perfectly content to keep pounding this poor creature to mush, Illyana doesn't stop, waiting for Ritsuka for new instructions if they are to come; Illyana will regret this later, but she is angelborn, and therefore follows instruction easy. But she is also demonic, and violence comes all-too-easy. So though she /wants to make this thing suffer/ she is still aware- And perceptive enough to note that it was seeking pain relief- Or something, and though it's a violent monster (Who is Illyana to talk) she recognizes that this is not the way to deal with situations entirely. So in full knowledge that this fleshformed abomination is violent and dangerous- And is endangering Ritsuka's workers, she punches, kicks and continues to assault the monster with as much violence as she can bring; It'll all work out perfectly fine, obviously. What coulde possibly go wrong? And besides, this is protecting the weak, so she's basically a hero- Right?
What wasn't wrong with this beast? Its body looked like a vector of infection, its flailing body attempting to swipe about at the two present. It wasn't able to withstand the continuous assault but instead of dying outright, the burning beast swung its large arm around in a wide arc, missing the two however. It then curled up into a fetal position, apparently weeping. This weeping ended when its chest apparently exploded, violently spreading its innards forth towards Illyana and Ritsuka. While Illyana seemed mostly spared of the viscera shower, Ritsuka would not be as lucky, instead directly in the path of it. Turns out that a burning creature under constant assault that just swallowed an entire bottle of nitroglycerin is a volatile thing to attack.
It is then perhaps that the weight of it just settles onto Ritsuka. There is guilt in her eyes, somewhere she had hoped it could be dropped unconscious, even if she desired it to perish. A call to a friend, and the thing could have likely been handled by those more suited to handle this kind of thing than she was. She was an Orderite, but she never once learned from anyone to deal or handle situations like these with feral beasts or werewolves. It is then, too, that she starts to pale. It starts to feel dizzy, everything does not look so real anymore and then she simply drops, fainting.
Dodging the majority of the very visceral viscera onslaught, Illyana whistles. After using one of the hypnotized worker's labcoats to wipe her hands- Then grabbing a bottle of hand sanitiser and applying it liberally to her fists and forearms, she smirks at Ritsuka. "That'll take more than a shower." Then, as pragmatism is the order of the day, she begins to riffle through the thing's pockets, looking for anything that might be important to pass onto the authorities- Thank any god listening that the HDP is used to the supernatural- And there's the scorch marks, burning product and volitility of the chemicals... Oh yes, and also the corpse next door. There's likely more to do with this than a simple breaking and entering. (@me is actually rather smart, though her wisdom is lacking in spades) "So..." Illyana asks Ritsuka, "What next?"
Illyana meant the HSD. Stupid americans and not calling things department of police.
Rifling through the beast's pockets doesn't yield much. There is a wallet, but it's so burnt out that the only thing that survived is an expired Blockbuster card and one of those metal survival card tools that has no real life use, even the leather on the wallet flaking off. The employees are still stupefied, though the look in their eyes is telling of the fact that they will eventually wake up from this. Despite the copious amounts of yellow-white stained blood and puss that would need more than just a bit of Mr Clean to go away, this could easily pass for a chemical fire started from improper storage of rubbing alcohol or other medical solvents.
Ritsuka lies motionlessly on the ground. There are no wounds or other signs of harm other than having been dirtied up at least. So likely she is just fine.
Not expecting that sudden onset bout of unconsciousness from Ritsuka, Illyana doesn't even notice or a long moment. She's used to hardened supernaturals with training- Or insane supernaturals like her with no training but forced experience, so when she does notice, there's a moment of confusion. What should she do? Well, moving Ritsuka away from the goop is likely the first step, so abandoning the search, she does the right? thing; It's certainly the most human thing- And moves Ritsuka bodily to sit her in a more healthy place for her to recover. That's right, the next room with the other corpse. Though Illyana is still a monster. Ritsuka is a friend, and Illyana cares about her, but the workers are only human, and in spite of all else, it's all too easy to forget about them. It's unintentional, but they are left in the room with the monster mush all the same. So what? Wait for Ritsuka to wake? Hell no. Ritsuka is the brains here, so Illyana attempts to wake her with, of course, her staggering medical skill. Which is to say, zero, so she plucks a bottle of water out of her handbag, pours it over Ritsuka's head and hopes that does the trick.
The adrenaline winds down, the atmosphere seems less tense and even the air appears to grow lighter, as if something was lifted from the room itself. Seems this beast is now slain. The corpse that Ritsuka was set next to was disemboweled from the lower torso down. The upper part looked like a person just sunbathing while its lower section resembled a set piece from a classic horror moving set. The distant wail of police sirens indicated one thing: authorities would eventually reach the place.
The water does do its intended purpose, she was a healthy young girl after all, and some would say, beyond just healthy but she shakes up. There is a few seconds of disorientation on Ritsuka, looking to Illyana and then to the body. It's when she grows a touch more pale again. Why did it have to be a disembowelment of course. Of course it had to be. There are words that go through her mind, and a question she does not openly share and the distant sirens has her tell Illyana "The Sheriffs are suited to handle this situation. They will cover it up and handle the bodies and any public inquiries." She reaches up to her features, pinching the bridge of her nose, as much as an asian woman has one, the full memory sinking in. "Did we do the right thing, Yana? Did we do what we need to do?"
Illyana struggles with that for a moment, pondering before responding. "I think so." she tells Ritsuka after a moment. Then of course, she remembers the workers; It's as if having someone around her who is reacting like a human brings out those tendencies in Illyana, too, if sluggish and stunted. So moving back again, the bohemian breaks the trance of each of the workers *slap* *slap* the smack of flesh on flesh can be heard before she returns. "Your people might be traumatised. Do you want me to amnesia them and compell them to go home or..." Surely, Illyana meant compell and amnesia, but one just cant tell. There's a circling gesture and she adds, "We could just let them go to the clinic for rehab..." Trailing off again, Illyana thinks it over before shaking her head. "Amnesia is likely better. But there's also the societies. We should let someone know. This is something the Temple will want to point at as monster madness, the Hand likely have something to do with, and that the Order needs to know about. I think you had a contact with them?" she asks of Ritsuka.
Of course it was disembowelment, the entire room now looked like what Quentin Tarantino wet dream, save for the fact that everyone was wearing shoes. The wail of sirens drew closer and closer while the clerks appeared to be animating, if only a little bit, by moving their fingers about and blinking. Maybe it was a good time to plan whether they'd explain this to some dorky deputy or skedaddle.
"I can call Lucienne with the Order." Ritsuka makes a nod to Illyana and her own eyes to to the direction where her staffer are and she tells Illyana "Amnesia and a way home. I'll lost the day off as shop closed midday due to chemical danger in improper storage." At least Illyana gives her something to hold onto, something to entangle her head on, something to keep her together. She rises to her feel, and she feels sick in her stomach, but now isn't the time to. Not now and she joins Illyana with the other two. "Someday... Someday we will handle these situations on our own, with the cult." She decides, the words tender, but still, a touch firm.
"We will." Illyana nods to Ritsuka, then she gets to work; Her sunglasses come off and already tranced, Illyana compells one of the workers to go home, burn their clothing and wash profusely- Then to forget about this day of work ad the events, recalling them as though they happened in a dream. It's the basic bitch answer to supernatural exposure after all and low effort. So as Ritsuka tends to the other, she finishes up, then ducks out the back, waiting for Ritsuka. With luck, the special deputies will deal with this as Ritsuka's contact deals with the information spread via Venice.
The clerk stares at Illyana with a wide, gaping mouth, drool dribbling out of his mouth as he nods along to the command. He turns around and leaves through the door, his bloodied, singed clothing waving in the wind outside. The other clerk is staring at Ritsuka as if waiting for her to say something while the noise of sirens now appears to have reached its apogee.
Unfortunately for everyone, Ritsuka is not someone possessing of hypnotism to that level. It isn't for her to do, and there is a groan that actually manages to escape her. Yeah, power suddenly does not seem so bad anymore Ritsuka, huh? At least that is a thought she does not openly share. "Jesse, it is best you forget what happened here today. Go home, get rid of those clothes, take a few days on paid leave, and when you are back, we can talk about it." This is the best that she can do. She does reach over to squeeze the woman's arm, and then turns around to follow after Illyana. She does not mention it, if Illyana hadn't noticed.
The clerk turns around and marches off all the same, all while footsteps are heard inside of the main room of the pharmacy. In walked a short, feminine looking man wearing thick-rimmed glasses and donning a brown highway ranger outfit. He tips his hat upwards and glances at the scene, apparently used to what's going on. His voice is quite high pitched as he calls out "Hey! Anyone there? Come out, this is Assistant Deputy McGlockin, I'm here to help."
Illyana most certainly just assumed. Being what she is, and being X-Hand, she simply believed Ritsuka to have the ability to deal with psychic problems, so this poor person is going to be traumatised for the rest of her life-- Or until Illyana is told about it and nightmare pulls her to wipe her mind later- Which ever comes first. Not that she'd say this to Ritsuka. "You did good." Illyana comforts, giving Ritsuka a squeeze. "These things are hard to deal with and it never gets easier. But you will learn to develop ways to handle it." the bohemian adds, as though Ritsuka were one of the people out-sourced to her to train. "I'm sorry this was how it happened." - And yes, curiously, Illyana does appear to be sorry. Her expression is jaded, but it is also empathetic. Though unlike Ritsuka, Illyana is an angelborn, ad recovers from these traumatic situations by very healthily compartmentalizing them away and forgetting about them, which isn't a problem and doesn't cause long term psychological issues and sociopathy, no matter what any psychiatrist might tell you.
"Should we- speak to the Deputy, Yana?" Ritsuka quietly whispers to Illyana, though she now tries squeeze Illyana on the upper arm, it's a simple tell if allowed - Ritsuka is going to be fine. Eventually. But there is also something tense, something brooding to it. Another thought added to a list of thoughts. "This city is cruel. The Sheriff department usually knows how to handle this stuff Yana and cover it up. They do have the experience for it, but we can escape if you would prefer?"
The footsteps could be heard growing a bit closer, the nerdy deputy now in the doorway to the back room. His head is shaken from side to side at the display, noticing the sheer amount of blood, the dessicated monstrosity. His stomach didn't churn but his mind did wander and suffer: so much paperwork ahead of the poor man. The two were out of reach for the moment as he asked once more "Anyone here? You were just exposed to hazardous fumes, you might be hallucinating, come out and we can help you."
"Mmmm." Illyana makes that thoughtful noise as she thinks this through. She has nothing to hide, but Illyana has already invaded the mind of one person to unutterably and erevocably toy with their mind today, and she doesn't feel like answering any questions. So with that knowledge, and the fact she doesn't want to think of herself as a monster inspite of the overwelming evidence shakes her head. "I think you're more important here." she decides. "And you are a non-native of america owning a property that could be seen as agrivatory, especially with the governmental changes. So here's what we do; We enter the nightmare, walk off and let the special deputies deal with that mess. And we take you to talk to someone who's good with mental health." Then, not waiting and just assuming Ritsuka will follow, enters the nightmare and waits.
As one might expect, entering the nightmare, pulling this creature then dealing with it would have been the more clean problem solving method, but Illyana most certainly didn't think about that when there was a fight in front of her. She may in fact be a monster, even if she tells herself that she's a hero.
Of course, Illyana is not wrong. The recent election has created a push to America first, and even Ritsuka has experienced something like that, and it is more through the use of her contacts with the Hanshin group that she could force the issue to her benefit. People are changing, some too much in what they think Trump is about, and not what he is or says and whatever. The nature of politics and varying opinions, but this was not the exact moment for Ritsuka to dwell over. Illyana is a trusted friend. She knows more about Foreigners and their rude problems than she, a Japanese on a work visa does. And so - she follows the other into the nightmare.
There were plenty of ways to go into the nightmare world there and with that, the burden of actually dealing with the aftermath was left on the shoulders of some assistant deputy nerd. Whether the right thing was done did not matter, there is a point past which it's impossible to do the right thing. The beast was slain and the heroes absconded into the night(mare). One has to wonder how a werewolf would deal with cardiac arrest.
(Your target is a member or affiliate of The Destined Host, who has been having second thoughts about their involvement in the group's activities. They have been tasked with retrieving an ancient artifact that is believed to strengthen a demon's hold on the world. However, they have begun to suspect that the group's intentions are not as noble as they claim. They want to defect, but fear the consequences of betraying the group. The characters need to find a way to help them escape The Destined Host's clutches, retrieve the artifact without strengthening the demon's influence, and deal with the fallout of their actions.)
Eric is just chatting away at his friends while at the barcade - the barkeep, Sam, the brooding, funny woman Yana. He drinks some pear juice that totally isn't laced with copious amounts of vodka, and he seems to suspect nothing at all while he spends his time socialising on away.
Eric happens to just be chatting away at his friends while at the barcade - the barkeep, Sam, the brooding, funny woman Yana. He drinks some pear juice that totally isn't laced with copious amounts of vodka, and he seems to suspect nothing at all while he spends his time socialising on away. (re for new arrival)
Abruptly, the doors of the barcade swing open. As a slightly dissheveled, short punkish man shuffles his way through the door. His shoulders slouched, his head darting from side to side as he took a quick, appraising glance of the room. His hands concealed within the pockets of a rough, worn black leather jacket. Sewn with various symbols of various religions, from a crescent and star in green thread to the Leviathan cross in red.
The strangers eyes settled one by one on the various people in the room, with a bloodshot gaze as he sniffled once. Before eventually shuffling to the front counter top. Staring up at the selection of booze with a frayed look, mixed with a shot of nerves.
Sam moves along the bar, humming to himself as he cleans that glass with the same dingy dishcloth as always. He looks around the room, nodding to Eric as he does so. He definitely has not laced said pear-juice with vodka.
"Eeeeyyy! Welcome to the Trove, what can I getcha to get the games started?" A hyped up line, said many times by now, in all the seven days that Sam has owned this place. He grins at the punkish man, and smiles, eyes briefly going over the various symbols.
Turning to look the new arrival over, Eric squints at all the particular signs of edginess. It has him drag his nails over his jaw, and soon shake his head a couple times. He barely offers up a "Sup, fam," but seems otherwise perfectly glad to let Sam do the talking. Long, thin fingers wrap around his glass, and he drinks on away while looking on to what conversation may ensure with one eye shut.
With a sigh, the stranger looked to Sam and shot him a small smile. His teeth yellowed, with a few chips. Running a hand through his half-shaved hair as he gave a shrug. "Uhhhhhhh... Yeah man, can I get a seven and seven? 'Preciate it..." His voice was quiet. Barely above a whisper as he took another paranoid glance around the bar. His head almost sinking into his own body as Eric sized him up, almost shriveling up as he swiveled on the chair to face slightly further away from him.
The jacket itself had seen better days. With rough patch-and-sew jobs that merged torn pieces of leather back together, and a coterie of religious symbols delicately sewn in with cheap thread. The Star of David, An upside down cross, a Dharma wheel, and various other minor symbols that covered pretty varied religions.
Sam nods his head, and turns away from the bar. He quickly grabs a few bottles, mixing the cocktail up before he pours it out into a glass. He turns back to the man, and places it on the counter, on a little treasure-chest shaped coaster. He grins, holding out a hand. "Cash or credit?"
He leans closer a moment, eyes really studying those symbols, though he keeps a friendly, barkeeper's smile. After that cursory inspection, he goes back to his glass-polishing. Same glass. Same cloth. Squeaaaaaaak. He turns to someone. "Ey, take fifteen." He nods briefly to Eric.
Sam nods his head, and turns away from the bar. He quickly grabs a few bottles, mixing the cocktail up before he pours it out into a glass. He turns back to the man, and places it on the counter, on a little treasure-chest shaped coaster. He grins, holding out a hand. "Cash or credit?"
He leans closer a moment, eyes really studying those symbols, though he keeps a friendly, barkeeper's smile. After that cursory inspection, he goes back to his glass-polishing. Same glass. Same cloth. Squeaaaaaaak. He turns to the other bartender. "Ey, take fifteen." He nods briefly to Eric.
Eric glances over at Sam, and watches the parttime barkeep wander on away gratefully. There's a vaguely thoughtful, confused sorts of look on his face, and the man leans at an elbow some more so he can see things proceed, gaze drawing between Sam and the rando punk a little more closely with time. Definitely suspicious, and quiet as before.
With a blink, the man felt around in his pockets rapidly. Pulling out a frayed leather wallet and digging through it, "Uhhhh... You mind if I start a tab..? I might be here for a bit." He remarked. With a lashing grasp, the punk grasped the cup and drinking half of it in a single swig. Nearly dropping it back onto the bar as he buried his face in his hands. "Fuu-uuck."
Sam narrows his eyes, and looks over the man. "Eh, why not." He chuckles as the man downs that drink so fast. He briefly walks over to the entrance, turning that sign around to closed. He then leans on the bar.
"So, thirsty, or a heavy conscience, friend?" He picks up that glass again. Squeaaaaaaaaak.
just as the man began to speak, a harsh, hushed hum washed across the bar. The strangers eyes went wide, pupils shrinking, as with no explanation, he -bolted- for the door. Leaving his card as he almost crashed through the entrance, whipping it open and departing.
Eric watches the man drink down his shot a bit impassively, nails dragging over the back of his wrist a little. The thrum has him respond not at all, and then he just blinks, thrice, as the figure takes off at a sprint