Plotlogs
The Price Of Power Sr Sienna 240928
The mission in the depths of Alarion DuMont's mansion proved to be a nightmarish endeavor for the group, each member facing their own trials amidst the horrors lurking within the estate's shadow-clad corridors. The assignment was clear: retrieve the legendary grimoire known as The Codex of Shadows of Silicon, while navigating the pitfalls of a dangerous manor now stripped of its magical defenses due to the global cleanse affecting all supernatural entities. Their contact, Emilia Broussard, a figure driven by revenge against DuMont, provided them with critical intel, though her motives became increasingly suspicious as the night wore on.
The descent into the mansion brought the team face to face with death and decay, their mission marred by monstrous attacks and a suffocating aura of dread. Misfortunes compounded when they tragically stumbled upon the remains of fae women, victims of DuMont's grotesque experiments, their cries for salvation echoing through the chilling air, leaving the team with a ghastly choice: save the innocent or secure the objective.
Tensions reached their climax in a frenzied escape, with the team plagued by an onslaught of twisted creatures. Through quick thinking and desperate maneuvers, they managed to secure the codex but at a high cost. The defining moment came at a critical juncture in their escape; Emilia, once an ally, met a gruesome end at the hands of Dean, revealing fractures within the group's moral compass. This act of violence, born out of perceived necessity, underscored the murky ethics of their profession and left the team grappling with the weight of their decisions as they fled the manor.
With the grimoire in hand and their erstwhile contact slain, they hastened their departure, driven by a mix of triumph and trepidation. Isaiah and Dean's relationship, complex and laden with unspoken undertones, stood as a testament to the ephemeral bonds forged in the shadows of their line of work. Novel's stormy mix of humor and resilience softened the grim proceedings, while Kah's steadfast might, though muted by the cleanse, reminded them of the strength in unity.
As they made their escape, the consequences of their actions, both seen and unforeseen, loomed large, painting a vivid picture of the sacrifices and compromises inherent in the pursuit of power. The group's turbulent journey back to Tyrell corp, under Ash's pragmatic guidance, left them to ponder the true cost of their victory. Amongst the backdrop of supernatural politics and arcane mysteries, their story serves as a grim reminder of the lengths to which individuals will go for revenge, knowledge, and survival in a world that teeters on the brink of unfathomable darkness.
(The Price of Power(SRSienna):SRSienna)
[Fri Sep 27 2024]
On Hangar C-7, Lambert Private Airstrip
A utilitarian space, the hangar is dominated by a single sleek private jet, its silver hull gleaming under dim industrial lighting. The polished concrete floor reflects the faint buzz of fluorescent tubes above, casting long shadows over a row of stacked cargo crates near the far wall. A black SUV idles near the open doors, its headlights spilling out onto the tarmac. A folding table sits off to the side, cluttered with maps and gear, ready for a quick briefing before heading out.
It is night, about 73F(22C) degrees, The area is wreathed in mist. There is a waning crescent moon.
OOC: Just giving a few more minutes to see if there's any stragglers, then I'll get your opening set on the plane ready.
The hum of the private jet's engines drifts quietly as the small plane descends through the twilight skies. Inside, the cabin is dim, lit by the glow of the onboard consoles as a satellite communication terminal crackles to life. The message is brief but urgent: Tyrell Corp's encrypted transmission.
"Your target: a grimoire called The Codex of Shadows of Silicon. Emilia Broussard will be your contact on the ground. She's our contact against GrandMaster DuMont, a Red Circle arcanist. Her stake? Revenge. Yours? The grimoire. Anything else is secondary. Youll land in five minutes - get ready."
The plane dips lower, the glow of the New Orleans skyline fading behind as it heads toward the private airstrip. Outside the window, the horizon has just swallowed the last bit of the sun, leaving the sky in hues of deep purple and inky black. The dense, humid air presses against the plane as it touches down, the runway lights flickering on either side.
As the small jet taxis to a halt, the oppressive heat of the Louisiana evening hits like a wave. The tarmac still radiates warmth from the day, and the thick humidity clings to every surface. Waiting just beyond the open hangar doors is a sleek, black SUV, its headlights cutting through the gathering darkness. The engine idles softly, surrounded by faint wisps of mist rising from the cooling pavement.
Near the vehicle stands Emilia Broussard, a short, sharp figure framed by the flickering glow of surveillance drones that buzz above her head. A few Tyrell Corp operatives linger by the hangar entrance, equipped with cutting-edge tech, while a squat, four-legged mech; more utilitarian than imposing; sits by the side of the SUV, its armored chassis gleaming under the floodlights. Emilia steps forward, her expression a mix of impatience and tension, ready to brief the arriving team.
[OOC: This is going to be fast-paced, but heavily dependent on choices and story. Please have fun and enjoy being a vulnerable, powerless meatbag for the duration of this plot during the cleanse.]
Ducking to step through the exit of the small jet, Kah takes slow steps down the staircase and pauses to glance up at the night sky. Loose clothing keeps him from becoming too sweltering but he seems well-acclimated to the heat. He steps to the side, happy to take his cue from the others there for the time being. He waits for Isaiah, Dean, and Ash to depart the plane stoically as he turns attention toward their point of contact and more curiously at the machines and strange technology that goes well beyond the man's understanding.
Ash walks carefully out of the hangar, occasionally reaching out to Kah for balance as they accidentally turn wrong in their goofy little rib cast. At least their hoodie covers it, but one can see the awkwardness in their movements. Still, they're here, and seem intent on this mission. They keep their sunglasses on despite the dark of twilight, along with Novel. without their normally advanced eyesight, it's a bad idea, but they seem reluctant to break the habit. Seeing Emilia, they leave Kah behind to give her a nod, drawling to her, "Good evening, Ms. Broussard." Their French is not ideal, but it has those New Orleans creole accents to it." They glance to Isaiah, before deciding whether or not to step up to greet her fully themself."
Ash walks carefully out of the hangar, occasionally reaching out to Kah for balance as they accidentally turn wrong in their goofy little rib cast. At least their hoodie covers it, but one can see the awkwardness in their movements. Still, they're here, and seem intent on this mission. They keep their sunglasses on despite the dark of twilight, along with Novel. without their normally advanced eyesight, it's a bad idea, but they seem reluctant to break the habit. Seeing Emilia, they leave Kah behind to give her a nod, drawling to her, "Good evening, Ms. Broussard." Their French is not ideal, but it has those New Orleans creole accents to it. They glance to Isaiah, before deciding whether or not to step up to greet her fully themself. (fix)
Novel is picking his nails with a knife, relaxed, and terribly dressed for the whole situation. He's spent, pretty much, the entire trip just asleep instead of doing something insensible like pacing. The only reason he's here is to goon it up with Isaiah, if we're being totally honest. He gives the mech an interested look, perking up and sliding the blade away. It's unclear if the man's trying to be cool or if because he just doesn't give enough of a shit to see what's going on. "Man." He murmurs. "Feel that fucking air. My skin feels GREAT."
Isaiah is probably doing her best to enjoy her time on the private jet, moving about the space like it's the sort of travel she's encountered before; taking advantage of every complimentary amenity from booze to food, but not stuffing herself. She's careful to maintain a dull buzz from any alcohol she samples, and by the time they land, the feeling coursing through her veins would be nearly, if not completely gone. She makes idle chatter with her companions in the pauses where they aren't discussing their game plan, adding touches of comedy to an otherwise stoic and serious topic. She's careful not to overdo it, which is rare for her, considering how idiotic she tends to be on her own mission. Perhaps she values her Pack, her family, and their goals just a touch more than her own. Enough to ensure that she's not making a complete ass of herself, anyways.
When finally the plane lands, she steps down the stairs slowly and carefully, her ombre dress flowing around her petite-thick form like lava caught in stasis, silken material slipping over hips that would be bare otherwise if it weren't for her scant amount of clothing. She touches Kah on the arm in passing, smiling up at the big guy, and otherwise seems to make a mental note that she will be on Novel Watch. Even during the trip, she was keeping a rather close eye on him. She knows the greasy fuck better than anyone here, after all, and she seems automatically suspicious that he's going to fuck shit up worse than she does. It seems to, still, be all love, though. "It's been a few years since I was down here," she confesses, but that's all the banter she manages before her pretty blue eyes trail to Emilia and her own gang of goons; her cherubic face grows a touch stoic all over again, an aura of seriousness overcoming the curvaceous redhead.
It was a long flight. Or a short one. What it was, it was hard to tell. Dean slept through much of it with his legs kicked up on a table at a private booth with a single chair, arms folded and head put against the glass to sleep. That had only lasted up until their descent - and lidded, dim eyes now stare out at the fast approaching ground with some deeply seeted animosity residing in their wholly, sadly totally human hue. It doesn't look like he'll get up to move out like the others; not until everyone has vacated at least.
True to it, Dean leaves last, hands in the pockets of his hoodie and with a lethargic if not outright lazy air about him as he eventually makes his way to the top of the ramp-- then while everyone descends the normal way, Dean sits at the railing, kicks his legs out, and slides the whole way down. The last few meters are hopped down without breaking stride, or removing his hands. Almost stoically graceful, and in a spiteful show that even with a cleanse there are some things you can't erase. Lazy or not, it lands him down somewhere behind Kah, and eventually move up to level a low glare at Emilia, and here mech. It's a demand in his eyes. He says; 'debrief, now', non-verbally. It looks like you can take the wolf out of a man but you can't make him any less of an overbearing asshole.
The soft rumble of the SUV engine cuts through the thick silence as Emilia Broussard steps into the circle of light, eyeing the team with a measured look. Her lips twitch in a brief, appreciative acknowledgement of Ash's attempts to speak her tongue, but she does not speak. Instead, she scans over the team of expendables standing in front of her.
"I know the cleanse has you feeling like you're running on empty," she begins, looking from Novel and Ash to Kah, Isaiah, and Dean, her voice low but firm. "You're not alone. Every supernatural here and around the world is feeling it. No abilities, no gifts... just the bodies we've got, and whatever tools we can put our hands on. And you, little Mister Wannabe Badass, get the stick out your ass and do try to keep up," she eyes Dean distastefully, then turns on her heel with a sharp nod toward another of the Tyrell Corp plants overseeing the exchange.
She gestures toward the open trunk of the SUV. Inside, a collection of high-tech gear is laid out: ssleek, matte-black weapons, compact communication devices, surveillance drones, and more. The faint hum of sophisticated equipment fills the air as she steps closer, her hand grazing the edge of one of the crates.
"Tyrell Corp anticipated this, Emilia continues. "They've provided a full suite of tools to make sure you can still handle yourselves out there. Heres what were working with."
She motions for one of the Tyrell operatives to step forward and start handing out the equipment. [OOC: Please pick one or two weapons or gear to bring with you. It may be life or CONSEQUENCES for someone later on...]"
Moving over quietly to the SUV, Kah scans across the equipment. Guns .. batons ... ballistic armor. There, Kah reaches and picks up one single thing only. A modern compound bow, and the collection of arrows that come with it whatever they may be. With nothing in the realm of protective gear he feels he can use he just shrugs large shoulders but notes one other thing. It's not much but he slips a set of what look like knuckle dusters in his pocket in case it comes to fisticuffs and steps away once he's prepared. With a glance toward Dean and Isaiah first, the man frowns and steps back toward their direction to wait until everyone is ready to move forward.
Moving over quietly to the SUV, Kah scans across the equipment. Guns .. batons ... ballistic armor. There, Kah reaches and picks up one single thing only. A modern compound bow, and the collection of arrows that come with it whatever they may be. With nothing in the realm of protective gear he feels he can use he just shrugs large shoulders but notes one other thing. It's not much but he slips a set of what look like knuckle dusters in his pocket in case it comes to fisticuffs and steps away once he's prepared. With a glance toward Dean and Isaiah first, the man frowns and steps back toward their direction to wait until everyone is ready to move forward. (Repost IN case)
Isaiah's choice of weapons and armor seem to come to her easy: she chooses the closest thing to a shortbow available, which is likely some mechanized compound bow courtesy of Tyrell. She lifts the beast in her arms and tests the weight of the strings, getting herself used to the new tension with the weapon that is both familiar and not. Not to mention, drawing it back with human strength is a far cry from the strength her Wolf provides; otherwise she might be bashing anyone in her way with some unfortunate fuck's motorcycle, using it like some sort of makeshift warhammer. When she's satisfied that she's gotten herself used to the item, her next request is: "Six incendiary rounds and four explosive shots. The rest can be barbed arrows." Her voice is soft and feminine, but cold and calm all at once; it's not the Isaiah those around here are used to, the bubbly joy-filled girl that runs around Haven calling herself the Queen of Devilwood. The only Queen she is here is a Queen Bee, and apparently these arrows are going to be her stingers.
Despite all of this, the ginger-haired cutie looks amused when Kah picks up something similar, and finally her request of melee weapon is thus: "I need a short blade. Bowie knife, stiletto, what have you. Got anything with a little blow-back to it?" she inquires, explaining further that she hopes Tyrell Corp has found a way to mechanize 'force' in some concussive fashion that would increase the power of her strikes, knocking back any foes that get too close with a blast of thunderous power. If such isn't the case, she chooses something simple: A good old fashioned pocket knife with a serrated blade. Old faithful. Either way, the weapon is twirled deftly in her fingertips then slipped into a normal-sized pocket on her dress, because women deserve functional pockets too. Apart from this, she requests the closest thing offered to leather armor. Easy to manuever in, basic protection against slashing, but also not cumbersome. She intends to be moving fast here, and being dodgy rather than tanking herself up with her typical plate mail. Steely eyes pan to Dean curiously for a time, then to Novel, inspecting their choices as well,, as though she might alter her own to accommodate or compliment the rest of the team.
Ash looks over the gadgets, their golden green hazel eyes going wide over the shiny, shiny gear available to them. They take off their sunglasses before getting a rifle immediately, checking it out carefully before looking over the drones and other devices. After ensuring that the safety is on, they slide it carefully into their sloth bag before looking things over carefully again. Chewing on a bottom lip, they seem hesitant before picking up a surveillance drone, as well as the tools that come with it.
Ash starts to hold it under one arm, before nearly dropping it, agony on their face before simply setting it onto the table instead, reaching for a pain pill to take now. Finally, they bring a bead to their face, checking to see if their normal comms would work, or if they would need to grab something else for that. Perhaps they can be reworked to a different frequency?
His disinterest shows, Dean looks away this time, ignoring the high-tech gear laid out while he drags hiss tongue underneath completely mundane teeth like the absence of large canids is a point of annoyance more than their existence was. The operative that approaches him gets no look whatsover, Dean lazily plucks off a sleek crossbow and its accompanying bolts off of their suitcase and a pair of walkie-talkies. Nothing else was in the crate offered to him anyhow. Without uttering a word, Dean chucks one of the devices at Kah with an underhand throw for him to catch, and the look he gives seems clear enough when it darts from the towering behemoth to Isaiah, alongside a nod that deigns to inform, "Stick with her. I'll keep in touch with you both if we separate."
Kah reaches out without a second thought - hand snagging the walkie out of the air without so much as a glance. He studies the device for a moment, before nodding at Dean. "On my honor" he says to the other man before turning his attention back to Isaiah. "You and me."
Emilia moves to the hood of the SUV, where a map of the mansion is spread out. "Here's the plan. Mister DuMont's not at the mansion right now; hes at some family gathering. We've got a window of three to four hours before he's back, which is tight but enough to get what we need."
She leans over the map, tracing a finger along the lines of the floor plan. "We're going in through the service entrance here, off the side wing. That'll take us into the mansion without triggering any of the front-facing security. From there, well pass through the study; Mister DuMont's personal library, and we'll need to be careful. The place is littered with tripwires and enchantments, but most of them should be dormant with the cleanse."
Her finger taps a hidden panel marked on the map. "Here's where we'll hit the secret elevator. It's old, built into the walls back when this place was renovated. It'll take us down to the basement levels where he's keeping his collection, along with the grimoire you're all after."
She glances up at the team, her expression hard. "Our primary objective is the grimoire. We get in, we get out, and before Mister DuMont even knows we've were there."
A pregnant pause while, before she reluctantly asks, "Any questions? You can ask them once we're on the road. It's the thirty minute drive and we don't have time to fuck around."
"Hey, it's been interesting. I'm pretty used to having the pointy end of the stick shoved into me," Novel casually admits to his misbegotten behavior leading to misbegotten results, but the cleanse had one positive effect: It doesn't make him feel like stabbing and angering every single person he's ever met, leading to someone who's a lot more mentally stable. There's no swagger - just a casual stroll of a man dressed to exercise. In point of fact... if you threw him down pretty much anywhere in the world, he'd look like he'd belong.
He looks over the weapons, the tools and toys, his brow furrowing in thought as he picks up one of the communication devices and rolls it through his fingers. And then it disappears into into his pockets. A kevlar vest vanishes the same way, making himself look a little bulkier, shimmying a bit as he gets the cup and leggings in place under the sweatpants, the bagginess of everything hiding it pretty easily. He perks up, giving an interested look. A terrible grin sprawls across his features.
"Hey, what's -that-?" Of course he picks up a FUCKING BOMB. Well. It's technically a thermite breaching charge. But still. Then he tucks it away.
Kah is given a look - one that, with Dean's brow raised, translates to a wordless 'the fuck, man' at the way he speaks, but otherwise, he simply, somewhat tentatively nod over to the behemoth himself, then to Isaiah -- before allowing his focus to settle on the map, the plan for DuMont. The plan chosen specially to infiltrate DuMont's mansion. DuMont's infiltration. Dean probably already forgot about it because he continues his stride. The way he hangs that crossbow at his side, lifts his hoodie slightly to do it, shows some old and worn armor under the garment hidden away - then off he goes to slip into the SUV and claim a window-side spot before anyone else can.
Novel suits himself up with the rest of his stuff - a small hand crossbow, but he opts to keep his bowie knife. "Thanks, but I'll stick with the familiar."
A silent shrug comes from Kah, but he sticks close to Isaiah as he tucks the walkie into his pocket or clips it to the waist of his pants and he nudges the petite woman toward the SUV. "Sooner started, sooner finished" he murmurs to himself as well as the group before glancing toward Ash and Novel. "Be on your guard, and be safe."
Novel suggests, sort of jokingly, "We could have Jay dress up as a girl scout trying to sell cookies. Distract them at the front door."
Ash frowns at the plan, looking over the map. "Mmm, I was hoping to pick a rooftop and use this drone here. Getting up close and personal in my condition is... less than ideal." They consider the map, looking it over and over again, before sniping, "Novel... you missed the part about 'before Mister DuMont knows were were there - bombs do *not* play a part in this mission." Looking over the map one last time, they pull out their phone, carefully taking a picture before saying, "Grab a smoke bomb instead, should help with lasers or if spotted."
They grab a walkie, just in case their current comms won't work, climbing into the van with a grunt and a grimace as they explain, "I'll take the rear, I'll be support. What's the frequency, Dean? I'll sync up." To Kah, they smirk, drawling, "I always am... and trust me, this is what I'm trained for, it's also not my first rodeo." Yeah, half dead, with broken ribs, they're America's top spy right now, be impressed.
Kah flashes a wolfish grin, "This is why I like you" he says to Ash in a friendly tone.
"It's not a BOMB, it's a - quick, what'd you say it was again?" Novel leans over to an operative that whispers in his ear. "YES. THANK YOU. A -breaching- charge. You know. In case the grimoire is in a safe. Completely stealthy." He's bullshitting, but the dude issuing the gear behind him just sort of - pinches the bridge of his nose and reluctantly nods. He claps his hands. "I can take a smoke bomb too, I think I got enough room in here for another goodie." He reaches for ol' smokies.
The air hangs heavy with moisture as the team finishes gearing up. Emilia's features are pinched, her outlook dismal after watching the expendables' banter amongst each other, gesturing toward the waiting black SUV. Its doors open with a soft hiss when the team climbs inside, the cool, air-conditioned interior a brief relief from the thick Louisiana humidity outside. The vehicle rumbles to life, tires crunching over the cracked tarmac as it pulls away from the hangar and toward the sprawling darkness of the bayou.
Inside, the faint glow of dashboard lights illuminates Emilias face as she settles into the front passenger seat. Her gaze shifts briefly to the rearview mirror, watching the team in silence as the SUV glides down a long, empty road, headlights cutting through the night.
"The DuMont familys been tied to the Red Circle for generations," Emilia says, her voice casual, though there's an edge beneath it. "Old money. Old magic. Theyve always had their hands in strange things, but Alarion? He's different. Obsessed with blending technology and the arcane. The Codex is --."
A burst of static interrupts the steady hum of the SUV. The radio crackles to life, the voice of a local news anchor cutting through the sound of the bayou."`^Another young woman has been reported missing from St. Bernard Parish tonight, marking the third disappearance in as many weeks. Police are urging locals to stay indoors after dark, though they've yet to comment on a possible connection between the cases..." The voice fades as static overtakes the signal, leaving the cabin in tense silence.
The SUV rattles slightly as the road becomes rougher, the edges of civilization falling away as they head deeper into the bayou. Shadows lengthen, and the distant croak of frogs and the hum of insects rises above the low growl of the engine.
(`^OOC: Please follow SRSienna so I can take you all to the next room. Things are going to go a lot quicker after this.)
"The Cleanse may have erased the enchantments, but the tripwires will still be active," Isaiah notes to the motley crew as she commits the instructions as well as the floor plan to memory. This is Isaiah in business mode, her eyes more glacial than fiery now as she slings her compound bow onto her back and ensures that her fingertips memorize the difference in the fletching on each type of arrow from incendiary to explosive to barbed. No mishaps. She won't have to look into her quiver to figure out what's what, or to second-guess herself.
Novel starts bullying the uptight teeny-tiny thing, though, and before they get into the SUV she decides to test the power on her newfound knife, lightly slapping the dull side of the blade against his kevlar with a roll of her eyes in passing, then pausing to see how far he gets blown back, if any distance at all. It's alway good to know if the force of the weapon is based on impact-power, or if it's a set amount, after all. She's the smallest of the group, so once she /is/ in a vehicle, it's likely she gets squished up between Kah, who has been assigned as her bodyguard this evening, and some other poor unfortunate soul who has to suffer her still-fidgety nature.
The larger man takes the ride mostly in silence as they consider where they're heading and what they're doing. "Stealth is not my place, but we will have to be on the lookout for any servants or other eyeballs. One rise of the alarm and things will get much worse for us I think" Kah offers.
Admittedly, Novel would have taken a shopping cart and just loaded the entire contents of everything into it before wheeling off if he had a chance to. He's not one that fills others with confidence. "Just think! You could wear a tiny skirt and if that wide-eyed doe-eyed look doesn't work you could flash your-" And then there's a knife as he rolls to the side away from Isaiah, intending to roll with whatever blow happens regardless of how bad it is. Instincts and all.
"I don't fucking know, I never used one before." Dean tells towards Ash then his walkie talkie is chucked over yonder across everyone for the spritely other to catch, if he can. Dean doesn't look like he cares much whether they do or not. "Set something up and prepare them before we get there." They do have thirty-minutes after all, and after Dean meet Emilia's gaze on the rearview window staring at them, it is a thirty-minute drive that he seems intent on spending in quiet meditation. Or just raw, projected animosity spent peering out the window.
Novel then ends up crammed in the tin can with everyone else.
As Isaiah tests the blade, tapping the dull side of the knife lightly against Novel's kevlar vest, there's a brief, almost imperceptible click from the handle. A small but noticeable burst of kinetic energy fires off, the impact leaving a minor ache from where it impacts through the man's kevlar.
Ash sets up the radio frequency quickly, then, after glancing at everyone else, realizes that, more than anyone, it's *them* that needs their blessing. And so, they reach into the strings of fate, distant and faded... just like they were before they were activated. Except, now they know where to look. They *pull*, and... well. Everyone else just sees them focus on something else, fidgeting a bit with their hands and fingers, before looking back down at the walkies with a newfound focus. They let their intuition guide them, to find the right frequency to ensure that they are not overheard.
At the very least, *one* gift is available to them. Something so inborn, so innate, that not even this cleanse could take it away.
To Emilia, plush brown lips form the question, "The Codex what? Please tell us, the more information, the better." She will find that Ash is full of questions, eager to get as much relevant detail out of her that they can during that ride.
Novel produces a long, low whistle, but his expression is one of a mingled amount of admiration and dismay. "Wow. Is that a compound or a prison? I bet those gates would look nice on Sludgefukk..."
Emilia glances through the rearview mirror back at Ash when she hears their question. "The Codex of Shadows of Silicon, full of esoteric rituals centered around more dangerous, experimental forms of magic. I once heard someone say that, in the wrong hands, a spell from it could be capable of rending through the fabric of time and space itself, but people are fucking overexaggerating liars," she mutters low under her breath.
After what feels like an hour of driving through increasingly narrow and overgrown roads, the SUV slows as it approaches a wide, iron gaterusted with age but still formidable, half-obscured by the thick vegetation of the bayou. Beyond it, the outline of the manor emerges from the darkness.
The old plantation house looms ahead, its once-grand faade crumbling under decades of disrepair. Gnarled trees surround the property, their branches twisted as if reaching for the manor itself. The floodlights positioned around the grounds offer only small islands of light in the sea of encroaching darkness.
Beyond the gate, the overgrown grounds of DuMont Manor stretch out, shrouded in mist and shadow. The dim floodlights offer only brief glimpses of the estate; tall, gnarled trees looming on either side, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching out toward the decaying mansion.
Emilia cuts the engine and turns to the group, her voice low. "This is it. We're not going in through the front; we need to hit the side entrance, stay out of sight. But weve got two ways to get there." She gestures to the map on her tablet, showing the team their options:
Option One: The Garden Path
A narrow path winds through what used to be the manor's formal garden, now overgrown with waist-high weeds and thorny vines. The path is partially obscured by underbrush, offering plenty of cover, but its littered with debris, old statues, and overgrown bushes that could slow them down or make noise.
Option Two: The Servant's Trail
To the right of the gate is a disused trail that leads past the overgrown remnants of the manors servant quarters. The path is mostly clear, though exposed, with fewer obstacles, but theyll need to move fast and stay low to avoid the patrols. It's more direct but has less cover.
Ash immediately makes their vote for the garden path silently, pointing in that direction - then pulls their finger back as they narrow their eyes. Glancing over the gathered group, they point at the servant's trail instead, telling the two bigs guys, "I need one of you to carry me on your back, and we can move quickly. I don't think any of us is tenderfooted enough for the garden."
Novel immediately states, "Yeah, I'm with Ash on this fucking one. I can move fast enough and hell, I look like a jogger, so whatever." He stretches easy, limbering up and starting to work his legs and thighs.
Given his assignment to keep a close eye on Isaiah, it's close to them that Kah will stay. Whichever option they choose, the large man will be there to accompany her in the endeavour. There's a quiet sense of focus that comes over the man now that they're at the site of their goal and he moves as quietly as he can when they do take their beginning. "Just remembr to keep your weapons at the ready. If you see anyone - better to put them down first."
"My vote is on the Servant's Trail," Isaiah says to the gathered team, listing the merits of the path by pointing out a few of the flaws in the ragtag roster they've brought along. "Novel is clumsy as shit and he drags his feet... All of those debris- Ash!" she hisses out in a stage whisper that's hissed through her teeth. "Kah is large, and he's heavy- if we start rustling around fucking garbage, we'll get swamped in no time," she points out, then hooks a thumb towards Dean. "And this one... Well.. He probably doesn't give a fuck enough /not/ to make noise. God dammit- at least on the Trail Dean and I can dispatch patrols from afar before they raise the alarm- those brambles are going to be Hell attempting the same," the petite thing tries to explain.
The dying of the engine, and the subsequent offer of options from Emilia's tablet is what drives Dean up and awake. He definitely had not been sleeping against the glass, it was quiet, reflective meditation. Though, he does give a lethargic draw of hi sleeve against his mouth, too. Once he's stared long enough, the decision only seems obvious, and he deigns to speak for everyone as Ash and Novel seem to be getting on the same page as well. "Let's go with two, fast and quick. No need to waste time." There is probably a plethora of explanations, valid reasonings or the like that could be made, and a discusssion to be had but Dean doesn't wait for anything while he seems to think that decision is enough, and retreats back. The door is kicked open, and Dean is out.
Novel has an expression filled with glee as he chases on after Dean, beating feet, albeit probably more slowly than the wolf-man. Tump tump tump go those running shoes, the only thing indicating he's not just a man running for the energy of running in his totally normally outfit is the small crossbow strapped to his wrist - designed for close engagements. He glances down at it now, in thought, his brow momentarily furrowing in consternation.
Dean flourishes his legs.
Emilia sighs, running her fingers through her hair before nodding. "Alright, fast and direct it is. Stay low, stay sharp," she murmurs toward the group, pushing open the SUV door. The humid night air hits like a wall as she motions for everyone to follow.
Emilia sighs, running her fingers through her hair before nodding. "Alright, fast and direct it is. Stay low, stay sharp," she murmurs toward the group, pushing open the SUV door. The humid night air hits like a wall as she motions for everyone to follow.
The group moves swiftly along the disused servant's trail, the path winding around the rusted remains of old buildings swallowed by creeping vines. The trail itself is mostly clear, but exposed, with the faint glow of the floodlights casting jagged shadows across the ground.
[Showstat perception please][Showstat perception please]
Which means, Dean, even in his weakened state - is obviously at the speed of a moving vehicle. The crosssbow at his belt is unhooked, stuffed with bolts, drawn and tensioned before he straight up snatches one of the talkies from Ash currently being hauled up by Kah. And he's off, like he said he would be - and most definitely with no plan whatsoever in mind. The side-entry meets a shoulder, burst with his weight, and he starts running- no end to that stamina in sight even without his wolf. Low to the ground, literally, but maybe not the sharpest.
Isaiah his teeny short legs, and glares at Kah and Dean with their tall selves, long legs and power. Her brows furrow and she utters a soft 'hmph' of jealousy, having to move at double time to keep up with them. At least Novel suffers alongside her, but she uses the extra time it takes her to catch up to knock a barbed arrow into her compound bow and pull back the string only slightly- just enough tension to keep it readied for a quick release as needed.
Novel huffs and puffs, giving Isaiah a surprise, squinty look before doing his best to keep up with the two faster, more sensitive people, the thump-thump-thump of his feet while vaguely wishing some of his powers still worked.
The sight causes a pauses in the man, bringing himself to a stop as he holds up a hand sharply. Then Kah's stepping over the wire to continue their way forward before any other of them can run the wire. He puts a finger to his lips now, keeping himself nice and quiet (as he can) before shifting his attention back to the door and the way forward.
[OOC: Everyone received their own special privates for their respective perception stats, so I'll wait for those responses before we go on.]
Novel should probably take his sunglasses off. Actually, wait, why the hell is he wearing sunglasses? They get ripped off and shoved into a pocket as he does his best to just keep running. He COULD have been an animal. Maybe. He leaves the branch behind, slowing as Kah does his thing and obediently hopping over when he catches up.
At once, near instant given his reaction speed, Dean lifts that crossbow while running. The thunderous noise of the plank he's crushed underfoot echoes pretty loudly ahead of the group, but it doesn't sound off as bad as the shot he takes with a firm pull of the trigger straight off-the-path with little regard or care for sanctity of human life. The bolt goes thwack, flies straight for the throat for the guard he alerted with the aim to punch through and leave him a gasping mess, if he can.
It's Isaiah that ends up splashing her boots through a muddy puddle after insisting everyone take the quieter route. She draws in a hiss of a breath, far behind Kah who carries Ash, and Dean who plays the part of lone wolf. The ladder dispatches the guard he'd alerted while the former halts the group; it's a good thing Isaiah already had one of those barbed arrows locked and loaded, because as a flashlight starts to sweep in her direction, she unleashes it, aiming for the soft tissues of the patrolman's right eye as the serrated weapon goes flying through the air towards him, her reflexes nowhere near as good as Dean's, but at the very least she isn't a terrible shot.
The guards go down with a muted thud before they can alert any of other patrolling companions in the area of any strange sightings and sounds, leaving the team able to progress down the rest of the path unmolested. he air remains thick with tension, but no more patrols seem to be in their way. As they approach the side entrance of the manor, Emilia is already there, crouched near the door. She motions to a series of faint, intricate marks carved into the wood, wards that would normally bar their entry. " entry. "Cleanse took care of those," she mutters, pulling out a set of lockpicks. Within moments, she expertly works the locks open with a soft click, and the door creaks open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the manor. "We're in.""
The guards go down with a muted thud before they can alert any of other patrolling companions in the area of any strange sightings and sounds, leaving the team able to progress down the rest of the path unmolested. he air remains thick with tension, but no more patrols seem to be in their way. As they approach the side entrance of the manor, Emilia is already there, crouched near the door. She motions to a series of faint, intricate marks carved into the wood, wards that would normally bar their entry. "Cleanse took care of those," she mutters, pulling out a set of lockpicks. Within moments, she expertly works the locks open with a soft click, and the door creaks open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the manor. "We're in." [Fixed]
Trying to recall the map, Kah nudges Isaiah once they're inside, shifting his weight a little bit so he can more easily keep Ash's weight along his back and shoulders. He crouches or takes a knee while they're waiting for their escort to pop the lock and then they're inside. A small frown comes across his face, eyes keeping their attention on everything they can.
Obviously Dean has already forgot where he needs to take his warpath on, but after ducking in alongside Emilia, Dean is stuffing his crossbow with yet another bolt and cranking it back slowly. If there is one thing he visibly struggles with, it is raw strength - he probably couldn't do this midcombat, which shows as a point of frustration. Without the deceptive weight of a wolf looming in his shadow and roaring through muscles, Dean is, for lack of a better word, built for sheer speed and agility instead of overbearing strength. Still, he plays into it - Dean leans upon a wall to slide along, reduced to an ambush predator as he is, he takes point by the side in wait just in case he needs to flank anyone wandering down. Emilia is given a look only after the rest of the group have fell in, too, waiting on her lead, or anyone elses, really, to show the path.
"This must be the service entrance," Isaiah murmurs in hushed tones, reciting the plan of action quietly to the team despite her blunder. "Past here is front security... We get past them and we can reach the study slash library- remember to watch for tripwires once inside," she instructs, attempting to redeem herself by listing it all off from sheer memory alone. She's careful to quietly scrape any leftover mud or muck from her boots before letting Kah nudge her inside, though she doesn't look eager to be on the frontline. She equipped herself to bring up the rear while Dean and Kah acted as her meatshields, but with Kah now carrying Ash, it seems that plan has changed. She grumbles faintly, then pauses, glancing over her shoulder at Novel and watching him for just long enough to ensure that he isn't up to any shenanigans, or that he hasn't somehow injured himself.
It is with clean boots that she slowly creeps herself into the estate, eyes peeled for any movement; she'd rather incapacitate servants than slaughter them, but the look in her eyes says she'll do what she has to if there's no other choice; her innate demonic blood no longer demanding of her the suffering she could possibly inflict upon others, necessary or not.
Novel smiles faintly back at Isaiah in the dim light, though it might be be visible as he trails on the ass end of the group, although mostly figuratively. Hopefully not literally in a human centipede. Not only is that gross but it would be pretty hard to be stealthy. His own, smaller handbow, winds back with subtle, sibilant click. A weapon that won't accidentally break windows but, alas, was less-than-useful outside.
The door creaks open, revealing a narrow hallway leading into the servant's quarters. The air inside is stale, carrying the scent of dust and damp wood. The dim, flickering light from a few ancient wall sconces barely illuminates the cramped corridor, lined with faded wallpaper peeling at the edges. The manor's age is showing, and each step the group takes is met with a soft groan of the floorboards beneath their feet. Emilia gestures ahead as she tucks her tools back into pocket. "Servant's quarterse are mostly empty, but we're not completely in the clear. From here, there's two ways forward," she murmurs, pointing to the end of the corridor:
Option One: The Panty Route
To the left, a door leads into an old, unused pantry area. Its narrow, cluttered with forgotten furniture and storage crates that create a tight maze to navigate. The area is largely quiet, but with little room to move quickly. There's a single obstacle: a malfunctioning security camera that still sweeps across the pantry entrance. The camera is low-tech and slow, but one wrong step and it could trigger an alarm.
Option Two: The Back Stairwell
To the right, a dusty stairwell leads down into the basement area, providing a quicker route. However, the stairs themselves are fragile, creaking ominously with each step. One wrong move, and the team risks a broken step or loud noise that could attract attention. Halfway down, a door sticks, requiring force to open, which could be noisy.
Emilia offers in quiet aside to Ash and Isaiah while the team deliberates, just for their consideration: "If we go with the back stairwell, we have a chance to potentially find and save the fae women that are here, being held hostage. DuMont has been collecting them for months now, which is why all those reports of missing women were piling up, and nobody can do anything about it. He's using them to try and control his fate when he would attempt to experiment with that fucking gate." A pause, inhaling a sharp breath. "If you choose to take this route with me, it may cost us time, but I would be in debt to you all. You'd be doing a good thing, saving innocent women who shouldn't have been locked up because of a selfish piece of shit."
Moving to creep a little forward, Kah will take ahead of Isaiah silently and toward Dean as they all try to move their way stealthily through the study toward the back of the mansion and their presumed target. The look he gets when he hears their options isn't a great one, but he grunts a soft sound, followed by his soft voice. "We could split, but we'll risk more chances of being discovered. The women were not labeled a priority." The giant of a man has compassion in this human state, but it only extends so far.
Novel considers someone' words and then there's a slow furrow of his forehead as he offers a salient point: "Okay, but." He pauses. "Hear me out. How do we get the women out without alerting all the guards and getting us all shot." He doesn't sound angry about this, just sort of. Puzzled. He keeps his voice hushed, at least, scratching his chin as he considers the logistics of the issue.
Novel considers Emilia's words and then there's a slow furrow of his forehead as he offers a salient point: "Okay, but." He pauses. "Hear me out. How do we get the women out without alerting all the guards and getting us all shot." He doesn't sound angry about this, just sort of. Puzzled. He keeps his voice hushed, at least, scratching his chin as he considers the logistics of the issue.
Ash looks over the marks carefully after climbing down from Kah's shoulders, grimacing again, but silent. They quickly pull out their phone, the screen dim, bringing the lightness up only so that it can barely be seen as they show the group the floorplan again. Handing the Hello Kitty phone to whoever will take it, they unload the drone from their sloth bag, looking over the manual one last time before stuffing it in their bag.
Like any fae worth their salt, they're skilled at games, and they are likely not the first to thank engineers for designing drones to work on console-like controllers. They familiarize themself with it quickly, before testing it - expecting it to be silent, with Tyrell Corp, and testing to see what sort of visual scanners it has - hopefully something that allows them to send it ahead to spot the traps and tripwire, alerting their allies as Ash moves more slowly from behind, watching their flank with their rifle and knife.
They were all set for the pantry route when Emilia offers. It takes them only a few seconds before they inform Isaiah in a quiet tone, "And if something happens, they make for a great distraction." They don't even bother hiding this from someone - Ash is known for a soft heart, but not when it comes to missions. They can feel all the feelings they want *after* the mission. They leave it to the girlboss, though. There's the possibility of bias for them, obviously... but they nod to Novel. "Something will probably happen." Damn, no chill.
Ash looks over the marks carefully after climbing down from Kah's shoulders, grimacing again, but silent. They quickly pull out their phone, the screen dim, bringing the lightness up only so that it can barely be seen as they show the group the floorplan again. Handing the Hello Kitty phone to whoever will take it, they unload the drone from their sloth bag, looking over the manual one last time before stuffing it in their bag.
Like any fae worth their salt, they're skilled at games, and they are likely not the first to thank engineers for designing drones to work on console-like controllers. They familiarize themself with it quickly, before testing it - expecting it to be silent, with Tyrell Corp, and testing to see what sort of visual scanners it has - hopefully something that allows them to send it ahead to spot the traps and tripwire, alerting their allies as Ash moves more slowly from behind, watching their flank with their rifle and knife.
They were all set for the pantry route when Emilia offers. It takes them only a few seconds before they inform Isaiah in a quiet tone, "And if something happens, they make for a great distraction." They don't even bother hiding this from Emilia - Ash is known for a soft heart, but not when it comes to missions. They can feel all the feelings they want *after* the mission. They leave it to the girlboss, though. There's the possibility of bias for them, obviously... but they nod to Novel. "Something will probably happen." Damn, no chill.
To peddle about doing a good deed, when Dean is around, is a futile endeavor. It fail to net even a shred of sympathy, empathy - or anything similar from Dean - because that deadpan stare turns from Emilia to all others instead to speak while he now stands back-to-wall beeside Kah. "Let's go take the panty route." It isn't as much as a suggestion, but more of a simple demand. Emilia, as if being chastised for the weakness in her, gets a sideway, near repulsed stare, but Dean wanders around the woman and follow the wall and cover to remain out of sight of the cameras ahead.
Ash makes a quick offer. "I'll go down, I'm not very mobile, and I have the drone. I can keep an eye out. Emilia comes with me, for locks. Dream team strike force goes down the pantry route. Sound good?"
Ash says "And if trouble comes while we have the girls, we turn on them."
Ash says "Let them loose, distractions. Cover your tracks as you beat a path out."
"If, and that's a big if, we don't trigger any traps within the study- wait..." Isaiah pauses then, furrowing her brows. "In the study there is a secret elevator that leads down into the basement anyways. We can shoot out the security camera, cut into the study, grab the grimoire, then take the elevator down," she lists off in a way that suggests she has no care in whether the Fae women live or die; they're an after thought. That's not why she's here, and she seems more than prepared to abandon them in favor of escaping with the book if things go wrong. "IF we don't set off the alarms, we can get the women from the basement, head back up the stairs, and leave the way we came. If we do trigger a trap, well... Surely the Order will come to their rescue," decides the curvaceous redhead with a roll of her eyes.
"Ash, shut the fuck up." Dean drawls aside in a sound that surely would have a growl behind it. "We're not here for some fae chicks, and if I want a distraction, I'll use you." He tip his head forward, clear indication for them to follow along. Whatever Isaiah seems to have said in-between, Dean looks like he approves, or that he's not thinking that far ahead. At any rate, Emilia is give a nudge with the harsh stock of his crossbow on her shoulder, along with an order. "Lead."
Novel nods at Isaiah's statement, satisfied, as the answers of how to move people around and get things done is settled. And so he moves to trail after the others. Likely causing some fumbling and creaking and noise on the way down.
Emilia's face hardens as the group decides on the pantry route, her fingers visibly twitching with tension. She stands there for a long moment, staring at Ash, Novel, Kah, Isaiah, and Dean in turn, clearly battling with herself over their decision to sideline the fae women for the grimoire. Finally, she exhales sharply, her expression bitter before turning impassive. "Fine," she mutters, resigned. "Let's just get this done."
The group moves toward the pantry door, careful not to make any noise as they slip inside. Long, jagged shadows flicker under the dim light, creating a maze of obstacles that the team must carefully navigate. Dust lingers in the air, stirred by their movement, and the heavy silence is only broken by the soft creak of floorboards beneath their feet.
At the far end of the room, a malfunctioning security camera swings lazily from side to side, its red light blinking erratically. It sweeps over the narrow entryway, the only direct path leading into the study, but the cameras obvious malfunction makes it unpredictable. Occasionally, it freezes in place before jerking back into motion, the red light flickering dangerously. There's a risk that even the smallest noise or movement could trigger an alarm, or worse, alert guards.
However, as Ash navigates the drone overhead, it becomes clear that there's a bigger problem. A set of wires, barely visible beneath the crates, are tangled and frayed, connecting to what looks like a pressure sensor hidden under the debris. Anyone attempting to move the crates or furniture to clear the path could easily trip the sensor, likely sending a signal straight to the remaining security system, if not triggering something more dangerous.
Ash reminds Isaiah, "The grimoire is in the basement, not the study." They seem worried that Isaiah is going to spend too much time in the study. They hang back, letting the others move first, before tapping on the back of one of the men in front of them, holding up a fist to get the others to stop. From there, they silently point out the traps.
Ash says this before they start moving.
This, upon a second glance, seems way above the paygrade of the physically apt and able and lacking in other manners Dean. He graciously passes the torch to Ash, or anyone else with a more appropriate skillset for tackling this curse.
This, upon a second glance, seems way above the paygrade of the physically apt and able and lacking in other manners Dean. He graciously passes the torch to Ash, or anyone else with a more appropriate skillset for tackling this cursed situation*.
At this, Kah keeps himself toward the rear. "I'm never going to make it through that" he remarks very quietly. He's probably nimble enough to get through it, but his size could be a serious problem, especially with the camera. "I think .. perhaps I should remain here to help ensure our escape. It's that or I take the other path." There's no getting around the man's frame in this instance.
Novel is definitely just about to start squirming through the boxes without thinking too hard and almost physically bowling Ash over before he stops. A confused expression. Then a sort of 'oh' of dawning realization.
".. I'm not sure how we're going to fit Kah in a secret elevator, now that I look at him, if there is one," Isaiah says faintly, looking at the large man that accompanies them again as though they'd forgotten that he is, well, a large man. She glances back towards the stairs, then over to Ash, looking apologetic before sneaking her small self towards the crates. There's a mumble of, "This is Sienna's thing... Not mine.." issued when she gets close, lifting up her bow once again and unleashing yet another one of those barbed arrows straight towards the malfunctioning camera.
Zip
Zrrrt
Quick, efficient, easy, she glances at the high-tech knife she's got, the one that blows back a target with even a faint amount of pressure- that's something she'd learned in her punishment of Novel and instead she takes out her old one with the broken tip. It's got a smooth blade, not serrated like the new one, and she creeps over and saws at what she ultimately deigns to be the most important of the tangle here.
Isaiah's arrow flies true, hitting the malfunctioning camera with a swift zip before the device sputters out, its red light fading into oblivion. The pressure plates, once tangled with wires, fall silent as Isaiah carefully saws through the most crucial connection. With the immediate threats neutralized, the room falls into an eerie calm, allowing the group to breathe a little easier.
Emilia casts Isaiah a begrudging glance, her lips pressing into a tight line as she nods in approval. Without wasting more time, she gestures for the group to move forward, working herself quickly through the cluttered pathway for the study.
[OOC: Going to speed this along. I know we sleepy.]
Ash sends the drone ahead again, taking up the penultimate spot to the rear as they let the most able-bodied people move ahead. They allow someone more perceptive to watch their rear.
Novel is therefore sandwiched in the middle, though nearer to the front, his bowie knife flicking out.
All throughout, Dean had simply waited near-motionless with his back to a wall and in cover. His head put against the wall, and his eyes closed - he definitely looked like was napping in the middle of an operation until Isaiah let loose that arrow and the camera combust. That draws his eyes, his wakefulness, after a while, him as a whole when he rises back up to fall in line with everyone else to continue carrying the warpath to anyone misfortunate enough to roll into them.
Toward the rear with Ash is where Kah finds himself and that's alright with him as he has to gingerly take himself through the space without creating noise. It's doable but it's slow moving for him. Luckily, he should have time to catch up with the rest of the group before they make their way into the study. With a glance toward Isaiah and Dean, and Novel he nods quietly and once again puts himself into a more fully alert state.
The study is a grand yet neglected room, with towering bookshelves crammed with dusty tomes and scrolls that stretch up to the vaulted ceiling. A thick layer of dust coats every surface, from the dark mahogany desk to the faded leather armchairs that sit by a cold, forgotten fireplace. The room smells of old paper and neglect, and the dim light from a single brass lamp casts long shadows across the floor. Emilia steps forward, her fingers tracing the edge of a bookshelf near the far wall. "The elevators behind here," she mutters, pulling at a hidden latch disguised as a book. With a soft click, the bookshelf shifts, revealing a narrow metal door. "This will take us to the basement."
It's going to be a tight squeeze, but the man will try. HOpefully Kah won't be the straw that breaks the elevator's back.
Ash looks at the room with undisguised interest, even some greed. Their fingers move towards some, but pause. Making a face, they leave them behind, looking irritable for the first time since they've started this mission. They move to pile on in with the others, collapsing the drone and sliding it into their bag.
Isaiah breathes out a soft exhale of relief when she does a good thing, rather than fucking up and doing a bad. Her hands are sweating, shaking, like in her mind she was defusing a bomb and trying to decide whether or not to cut the red wire. With that stress-inducing task done, she stows both of her blades- the more traditional one on her right hip- before continuing on into the study. There's something about this that just... Unsettles her. Her flesh bristles as her peach fuzz stands on end, and she murmurs, "Rich guy with a bunch of security and servants.. But it doesn't seem like the place has been dusted in over a decade... Where are the maids?" she asks aside to Dean and, especially, Kah, whose life of servitude might draw him to the same conclusion after her hushed whisper.
Furthermore, when Emilia seems to know exactly where the elevator is, exactly which book to pull, the redhead tenses even more, quietly knocking another arrow into her compound bow, her frosty blue eyes trained on the woman that is alleging to pay them as she mulls something over, not approaching the enclosed space for now. Instead, she leans closer to Novel, and she whispers.
Something catches Kah's eye. Pausing, his head turns almost sharply before he moves off toward another bookshelf. His eyes scan the shelves looking for some sense of trap or trigger. If he thinks it's safe, the tall man will take what's caught his eye and pull it from the shelf to tuck beneath his arm for the time being. His frame may block the view of the object when and if he takes it, it might not but he's willing to take the risk.
Just to keep a clear line of fire, Dean glances at Kah first, then decides he's going to be the shield for this downward ascent. Emilia is skipped over as Dean heads closer first, nods her along to stick close as two peas in a pod with a nudge. His crossbow is still loaded, hefted and prepared with the cruel intent it promises at a single pull of the trigger. Whatever means to open the door, call the elevator, or otherwise advance here with the door - Dean seeks to take it and pave the path ahead- or down, as it were. "Jr, stay in front of Kah in case you need to shoot." He orders, without much thought as to how their guide here knows the way well - he doesn't pry. "Ash, stick behind him." Kah, is, for the moment, a walking cover in his eyes it seems. Novel is left to his own devices, as Novel is ought to do what a Novel does.
Kah says, in a quiet murmur, "What are you hiding?"
Ash nods to Dean, obedient.
Kah returns to the group, nodding toward Dean semi-distracted even though quickly trying to refocus his attentions.
Novel murmurs something right back to Isaiah, his player starting to have issues with focusing as his gaze dances over the rest - his own self lingering near the doorframe, flanking it, and generally providing an eye out and cover before stepping up towards the others with the elevator. "Hm." He remarks. "I mean - that works for me." He murmurs.
The ancient elevator groans under their weight as everyone crams inside, the rusty metal cage rattling ominously as the doors slide shut. The entire structure feels unstable, its cables creaking as the platform shudders to life. Emilia hits the button with a sharp tap, and the elevator lurches downward, moving painfully slow. The dim light overhead flickers, casting shadows across their faces. Emilias eyes dart toward Isaiah, tension clear on her face, as she murmurs, "Once we hit the basement, we grab the Codex and get the hell out. No time for detours."
Suddenly, the shrill and out-of-place tune of Everybody Loves Kung Fu Fighting breaks the silence, piercing the still air. Emilia curses under her breath, fumbling for her phone. Her expression hardens as she checks the message. "One hour before Alarion's back." She looks at the team, her tone grim. "Things just got real."
Ash blinks slowly at this... spy leader, with her fancy ass gadgets, and her spy mecha and her fucking floorplans... and she didn't even silence her damn phone. They suddenly seem uncertain.
Like a coil wrapped up and ready to lunge, expel all that energy, Dean simply stands at the front beside Emilia - heading down, down, and down - and when the phone breaks the veil of silence, Dean casts a look asided at the woman. Her, her phone, and simply smirks at the corner of his mouth before looking back ahead without much care. His crossbow, however, is lowered in preparation to bolt someone through as soon as their eventual arrival happens and they step out.
Isaiah is silent through the entire descent, her glacial eyes trained on someone, her muscles taught, her bow knocked with a barbed arrow, suspicion plain on her face as she regards the 'former' Red Circle Mage. Something about the woman just isn't sitting right with her, and even without their wolfish Pack bond, Dean and Kah would still be able to sense the way her skin prickles, looking for a reason.
Isaiah is silent through the entire descent, her glacial eyes trained on Emilia, her muscles taught, her bow knocked with a barbed arrow, suspicion plain on her face as she regards the 'former' Red Circle Mage. Something about the woman just isn't sitting right with her, and even without their wolfish Pack bond, Dean and Kah would still be able to sense the way her skin prickles, looking for a reason.
Novel flinches as the phone goes off, tightening his hand on his dagger - and then he laughs, suddenly, a short noise that's quickly muffled with a sigh into his shoulder, a smile on his lips.
The shock of the music seems to startle Kah, threatening to rock and rattle the whole elevator until they reach the bottom. He gives a glance around but he's ready to react based on what they see and what they find. He takes a calming breath for himself as they potentially emerge into the basement. His muscles tense and flex subconsciously, neverous as he waits on edge.
The elevator dings softly as the doors creak open, revealing pitch-blackness that feels almost suffocating. A thick, overwhelming stench of rotting flesh and decay hits them immediately, the kind that clings to the back of their throats and makes it hard to breathe. The air is stagnant, heavy with the unmistakable scent of death, and the walls seem to close in as they step out into the cellar. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the faint drip of water echoing somewhere in the distance. Despite the absence of magical creatures, the place feels wrong, as though something terrible once lived here. Instinctively, everyone knows they must stay silent; any noise in this place feels like an invitation to something unseen.
Emilia immediately brings her shirt up over her nose in a desperate attempt to block out the stench from overwhelming her senses, eyes watering over with an almost deeply unsettled look cast around in the poorly lit abyss extending ahead of them. She moves to the side, boot stepping in something that creates a disgusting mooooist squeeeeellllccch that sends shivers down her spine. "Fuck," she hisses out.
Ash moves their knife to Emelia's throat as the dumb bitch *immediately* makes noise. They will only take out the drone to send ahead after they're sure she's learned to *shut the fuck up*.
Novel glances down at his running shoes. Excellent for disguises, not so much for stomping through this.
With a pause in his step again, Kah stops and he taps Isaiah on the shoulder. He points her at something, directing her eye toward a hint of an iron-bound chest that might be easily missed sitting underneath a pile of debris. "What's this" he whispers quietly, before setting Ash down quietly. Then it's a slow creep through the darkness toward the thing.
Seconds before Ash brings that knife to Emilia's throat, Dean shoots them a glare. It's a warning - a bide to wait for time, if anything, but whether they continue through with it or not, Dean steps through the door as well. He's moving in the filth, the blood and viscera like it doesn't bother him all that much. His nose twitches, lacking his heightened senses - even the darkness seems oppressive as it is now, without a proper, predatory glint to pierce through it. It doesn't deter him anyway, and he begins to take slow steps forward with his crossbow leveled forward. "Come on, we've all been to worse places." He presumes of their experience, Dean has certainly /ate/ worse places. Still, he tacks on with another low whisper. "Let's find that grimoire."
Astonishingly, the stench of death doesn't seem to disturb the girl that slept comfortably with two decaying corpses under her bed for weeks before finally moving them out of the trailer. She blinks slowly, then steps out of the elevator heel-toe in her boots, her steps naturally small, but made smaller as she carefully looks through the space. Something about it tries to trigger her fight or flight reflex, but her body chooses fight here, and she casts a look towards Dean, smirking faintly. She doesn't say anything to him, opting to maintain silence for now, but, these two are nothing if not volatile, blood-thirsty maniacs in each other's presence; and also when apart. Any nasty beast that might come slithering out of a dark corner seems already not only expected, but prepared for by Isaiah, separated from her Wolf but still just as maniacal as ever in many ways. She's been bored: sneaking, creeping, ambushing, they're not her style. She's the sort that likes to make a bang. That likes to be seen. Her muscles bunch up as her eyes start seeking some sort of Eldritch horror to annihilate, perhaps forgetting that in this moment she is human.
But then Kah's hand grounds her once more, and she snaps out of that predatory state, hunting the hunter fading to the back of her mind as her attention is drawn towards the chest. "Bingo," is her quiet assumption then.
Retrieving the iron chest as quietly as he can, Kah will bring it back to the group with purpose, in hopes of it either being so old as to open easily or that Emilia can pick it's lock.
Novel makes a "FFFFfffffffffffffffff," noise as he tries very badly not to shout extremely loudly as the man lunges downwards, grasping it for the sides of the jaw as his schoolyard training with alligators and crocodiles comes to the fore as he vaguely hopes it has a hinged jaw he can force open with squeezing while yanking his foot back. Yes, he could stab it, but then it would clamp down on his foot. "goddamit" he mutters more quietly. "Things in the water."
The sharp, hissing noise rises suddenly, almost imperceptible at first, before multiplyingsplitting into a cacophony of high-pitched shrieks that echo through the darkness. Then comes the skittering. The sound of countless legs scurrying over stone, moving too fast, too close. From every shadowed corner, the dark swells with movementhundreds of twisted, foul creatures like the one that attacked Novel. Their pale, unhinged jaws gleam as they dart forward, their bodies writhing as they rush across the ground, gnashing and hissing.
A woman's voice pierces the air, her scream raw and desperate from somewhere deep in the cellar. "Help me! Please, God, help me!" Her cry is quickly followed by more; disembodied voices of other women, begging, sobbing, terror filling every word. It's clear now: the fae women are here, trapped in this hell, likely fed upon by these abominations. Their screams are growing louder, merging with the skittering horror that is rapidly closing in on the group.
Emilias face contorts with panic as she lunges for Novel, her hands gripping his arm tightly. "NOW! Throw the explosives, NOW!" she shouts, her voice barely cutting through the din of the approaching swarm. The creatures are closing in from all directions, eyes glowing faintly in the pitch-black, their forms distorting in the flickering light. The air is thick with their foul stench and the oppressive sense of wrongness.
Every instinct in the group screams that they don't belong here, that whatever these creatures are, this place is a pit of horrors. The cellar feels alive with death, with darkness, and its clear that if they don't act quickly, they'll be overrun.
Novel would find an unlikely ally in that, a near, practically blinded by darkness Dean turns at once with the sound. Dean's hand seeks to clamp on Novel's shoulder to assist in his retreat, pull him back with a yank that isn't forceful at all in the slightest. It should give the man the freedom of action to go wild with his explosives - and Dean's is used up on whatever that sought to assault the templar. "That's not water." Is all that he says while the trigger is pulled and he shoots at whatever tried to catch him. The closer, imminent threat. Whether it has retreated or not, Dean is already loading up another bolt, drawing it back. It's slow, too slow, not like him at all that he has to exert himself to draw the wire back, and it has him hiss out a loud sigh. When he does manage, he's covering retreat, aiming the crossbow towards Kah and whatever may be behind the man that broke line to go for whatever it was that he went for. "Everyone, get back in the elevator!"
There's no sense of stealth about Kah now. He's scooping up that chest and RUNNING. Picking up anyone he can manage or dragging them if need-be. He's not going to stand here to face those things, fae chicks or no fae chicks. He slaps Novel on the back as he tries to passs, encouraging the man to throw that explosive he was interested in bringing. He catches Dean's eye and just calls out "If you see it, shoot it!"
Novel contemplates the rush of creatures. Then, he contemplates the creature in his hand. He adjust his grip on the hinged jaw, feeling thankful this is close enough to a snake and an animal he's familiar with. He pulls out the bomb as Emilia panics, calm as can be, and depresses the idiot button on the device. Then he crams it right into the snake's throat and as Dean's prodigious strength and the panicking woman both drag him back, he hurls the creature in his hand straight back into the familiar mass to it before doing his best to beat feet.
Ash obeys Dean, though it was only meant to be a threat - everyone else started talking anyways, and then there's all this bullshit. Their bare feet squish and slurp in the muck as they take a few steps forward - then a few steps back. They barely manage to get the light on with the drone before everything goes to shit. Fortunately, they're right next to the elevator, and can hope right back in.
Dean flourishes his prodigious strength.
Isaiah seems relieved that she chose the arrows she did now, some small amusement pulling the corners of her mouth into a smirk as a hand reaches back, touching lightly over the fletching she had memorized on the way here. She pulls out her first explosive arrow and aims it right at the center of the largest hoard- or the loudest collection of hissing. It whizzes through the air, screeching with speed as she runs back towards the elevator. "Fuck the Fae bitches, out out out out out!" she calls as the arrow explodes on impact- it is /not/ a sensible explosive to have when working underground. It -is- a sensible explosive to have when you're being hunted by a colony of eldritch horrors. She lets fly a second explosive arrow for good measure once she's back on the elevator with everyone else, letting it rip through the air before the doors close on the Voidlings. Another boom that hopefully knocks the dust off of that collection of furniture in the study, since the maids aren't doing it.
If only it wasn't during a cleanse, things would've been so, so different. Dean swallows the battle-lust, the grind of his teeth nearly heard as he backtracks with the others after shooting a flimsy bolt into the darkness. One swallowed up by Isaiah's and Novel's explosives to little effect. He continues to backtrack with others, with Kah, Novel and the woman they came with, but as soon as he enters the elevator, before their guide does, he leans aside in the act and pretense of loading his crossbow with another bolt. Some hushed whisper disclosed, towards Ash.
As Dean lines up another shot, his crossbow aimed toward the oncoming horde, a grotesque creature lunges from the shadows. Its twisted, mangled mouth unhinges, filled with jagged teeth dripping with a foul stench. His legs are critically exposed, and the creature goes in for the kill, its teeth clamping down hard.
Kah, meanwhile, is struggling with the chest. He doesn't have impressive strength, the weight of the chest is almost unbearable. He feels himself slowing, every muscle burning as he tries to maintain momentum. The horde is gaining ground, fast.
Ash, their feet slipping in muck, suddenly feels a coling, slimy pressure around their ankle. One of the creatures, its spittle sizzling as it drips to the floor, slithers around them with vicious intent. Its grotesque head snaps forward, aiming for their exposed neck, sensing weakness.
someone explosive detonates with a deafening roar, momentarily illuminating the horrific scene ahead. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, the entire group sees what truly lies beyond; the remains of women, gutted, torn apart, and in various stages of being consumed. The flickering light casts grotesque shadows on the carnage, making the horror all too real. Blood-stained mouths hang open, their last screams frozen in death. The horde, undeterred, presses forward, now more ravenous and frenzied than ever as the light from the explosives seem to piss them off royally.
Emilia slams her hand against the elevator controls, desperate. The doors churn open painfully slow, far too slow for the incoming danger. "Hurry!" she screams, the panic rising in her voice. She's already halfway into the elevator, her foot poised to leave the others behind as the horde closes in. She glances back once, her eyes wide with fear, torn between self-preservation and loyalty.
As Dean lines up another shot, his crossbow aimed toward the oncoming horde, a grotesque creature lunges from the shadows. Its twisted, mangled mouth unhinges, filled with jagged teeth dripping with a foul stench. His legs are critically exposed, and the creature goes in for the kill, its teeth clamping down hard.
Kah, meanwhile, is struggling with the chest. He doesn't have impressive strength, the weight of the chest is almost unbearable. He feels himself slowing, every muscle burning as he tries to maintain momentum. The horde is gaining ground, fast.
Ash, their feet slipping in muck, suddenly feels a coling, slimy pressure around their ankle. One of the creatures, its spittle sizzling as it drips to the floor, slithers around them with vicious intent. Its grotesque head snaps forward, aiming for their exposed neck, sensing weakness.
Isaiah's explosive detonates with a deafening roar, momentarily illuminating the horrific scene ahead. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, the entire group sees what truly lies beyond; the remains of women, gutted, torn apart, and in various stages of being consumed. The flickering light casts grotesque shadows on the carnage, making the horror all too real. Blood-stained mouths hang open, their last screams frozen in death. The horde, undeterred, presses forward, now more ravenous and frenzied than ever as the light from the explosives seem to piss them off royally.
Emilia slams her hand against the elevator controls, desperate. The doors churn open painfully slow, far too slow for the incoming danger. "Hurry!" she screams, the panic rising in her voice. She's already halfway into the elevator, her foot poised to leave the others behind as the horde closes in. She glances back once, her eyes wide with fear, torn between self-preservation and loyalty.
The creature still tries to go for the neck, its jaw yawning open with a feral hiss as it attempts to rend its way through Ash's protective gear.
Novel slings his way right into the elevator, literally launching himself into it. Pancake directly into the wall of the elevator! Besides, that way there's more room for people to cram in quickly when they're trying to handle their giantass weapons.
Ash tries to stab the shit out of the creature as they move back, their nodding to Dean put on hold as they grunt, trying to get the fucking thing off of them.
The doors of the elevator begin to slowly teeter closed.....
might not be strong, now, but he is fast. Frighteningly, with stamina to make up for it. Dean twists back from the jaws of the foul beast that tries to capture him with some supernatural reflex and dexterity etched into his bones from raw training. Not something a cleanse can get out of him, and he jams his crossbow into that mouth vertically to keep it stuck and open. One kick, and he sends it into its gullet as far as he can manage; probably not a lot, but enough to lodge it in place. Just like that, he's back in the fray of the elevator lest it takes off without them. Emilia is given a sideway, low glare- and Ash, Dean reaches out to snatch them by the scruff of their neck to yank them in as well alongside him, away from the clutches of what they're fighting. It does pull the creaturee in with them, too - but as it is, they are many and it is one, in that closed space, and surely someone has the strength to wrench it off of Ash. It is a team effort, after all.
Dean might not be strong, now, but he is fast. Frighteningly, with stamina to make up for it. Dean twists back from the jaws of the foul beast that tries to capture him with some supernatural reflex and dexterity etched into his bones from raw training. Not something a cleanse can get out of him, and he jams his crossbow into that mouth vertically to keep it stuck and open. One kick, and he sends it into its gullet as far as he can manage; probably not a lot, but enough to lodge it in place. Just like that, he's back in the fray of the elevator lest it takes off without them. Emilia is given a sideway, low glare- and Ash, Dean reaches out to snatch them by the scruff of their neck to yank them in as well alongside him, away from the clutches of what they're fighting. It does pull the creaturee in with them, too - but as it is, they are many and it is one, in that closed space, and surely someone has the strength to wrench it off of Ash. It is a team effort, after all.
With an outright snarl that comes from Kah, he tries to judge the distance and just huck the chest forward in front of hiim trying to make the elevator or at the very least someone forward of him! Burning muscles and air that begins to come scant in his lungs he forces himself to push forward through the slog. Whatever the case may be, he's not dying over whatever's in that chest. If he misses, he misses! The damp and the nasty have his hair matted and plastered against his face in a gruesome and wretched sight as he continues to barrel for the elevator.
"Fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you," Isaiah says in a singsong voice as she switches temporarily to incendiary rounds with her bow, the shots piercing through multiple bodies at once in a straight line that gives a fainter illumination to the scene, a piercing orange light beaming through the darkness with every shot. She almost seems excited to be here, and eventually, noticing Kah struggle with the chest, slowing down, sweating, she grunts and grabs half of it, relieving him of half, if not most of the weight as she bolts for the elevator, dragging the massive guy along if she has to. Her free hand reaches for that thunderous knife of hers, ready to stab and blast away any creature that dares get close enough to her to try its luck. "Go, go, go, go, go," she urges them all, apparently the strongest of the group as a human, she's more than willing to literally /throw/ anyone she deems isn't going to make it in time before the doors shut. Right now that first victim seems to be Kah's massive self as they lug the chest together. "Inside, inside, inside," she chants, a mantra, a cadence, something to distract from the horrors and keep the minds of her family focused on escaping with their lives rather than succumbing to hopelessness.
If Isaiah picks up the slack, then Kah is happy with that- his tunnel vision is on the effing elevator.
The elevator doors finally slide shut with a wet squelch, severing the heads of two creatures just as they tried to worm their way inside. Thick, black ichor splatters against the door, dripping down in nauseating rivulets.
Inside, the oppressive silence is broken only by Emilias gasping breaths as she collapses back against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. Her trembling fingers slam the up button repeatedly, the dingy light inside flickering as the elevator begins its slow, agonizing ascent.
someone creaking of the ancient cables fills the small space, the sound almost mocking in its sluggish pace.
Until.................
A loud thunk reverberates from below, shaking the entire elevator. The sudden jolt knocks anyone without fast enough reflexes to their knees or against the walls.
The elevator doors finally slide shut with a wet squelch, severing the heads of two creatures just as they tried to worm their way inside. Thick, black ichor splatters against the door, dripping down in nauseating rivulets.
Inside, the oppressive silence is broken only by Emilias gasping breaths as she collapses back against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. Her trembling fingers slam the up button repeatedly, the dingy light inside flickering as the elevator begins its slow, agonizing ascent.
The creaking of the ancient cables fills the small space, the sound almost mocking in its sluggish pace.
Until.................
A loud thunk reverberates from below, shaking the entire elevator. The sudden jolt knocks anyone without fast enough reflexes to their knees or against the walls.
Steadying himself, Kah gives a shuddered breath as his tundral blue eyes blink slowly. The jolt comes and he gives a startled almost yelp of a sound before catching himself. "Praise the Gods" he breathes without a second thought, certain his heartbeat can be heard by everyone in that elevator.
Ash staggers into Emilia, grunting as they 'accidentally' push her back against the wayll.
Not only does Dean greatly fixes his balance through the massive tremors, he also moves in and closer to Isaiah after she has thrown herself along with Kah into the elevator. The dizzying jolt running through is a great distraction, and for now, Dean ignores the sound of ragged breaths, painful or otherwise annoyed sounds in their tight-knit hovel in an attempt to snatch that curious knife from Isaiah. For what purpose, who knows.
Emilia raises her arm to force Ash back against the wall, eyes flashing with rage. But before she can say anything, the doors of the elevator slowly open with a grating churn of rusted mechanics, returning them back to the study. "We need to get the fuck out of here," she mutters to the group, reaching for the only one who matters, Kah with the iron chest, motioning him to pick it up. "Come on, this way. We don't have much time."
Novel is pretty much backed into the corner of the elevator and then basically just falls over on someone almost immediately, hands launching out to slap the person and floor to keep from becoming a bouncy ball.
Despite the other's suspicions, Kah is only interested in getting the hell out of here at this point. He nods at Emilia and he's off with her and the chest without complaint. It's no longer time for subtlety, it's time for speed.
Instinctively Isaiah tears her knife away from Dean when he grabs for it, her eyes wild with predatory fury, but when she realizes who it is that attempts to take the thing, she calms, her breathing slowing down somewhat. It's not a monster- well, it /is/, but it's one of her monsters, so she offers the item to her Alpha, settling it into his palm with a shaky exhale of breath as the elevator shakes and shudders beneath their collection of feet. Still, when Emilia reaches for Kah, the woman bristles all over again, her hands now empty, she fills them with compound bow and another barbed arrow, knocking it, aiming it at her right ear and causing the space to get even more cramped until they disembark into the freedom of the upstairs portions of the home once more. "Not too close, Mage," she warns on a hiss of breath, covered in gore, soot, sweat, and Devil-May-Care.
Novel brushes himself off with a huff - taking and sustaining injuries and then, somehow, surviving, is genuinely his best trait. Somewhat bruised but nevertheless familiar with pain and agony, he bounds his way to the doorway instead of trying to do posturing in a beelining attempt to leave. "Fuck this whole place and fuck those things in the basement," he mutters his internal monologue aloud.
Ash hold out a leg when Emilia starts to flee, moving afterward to try an pin her if they need to. With a field surgeon's anatomical skill, acrobatics that makes their ribs scream with agony, and the detachedness of a faeborn, they work quickly to hamstring her, grab her throat with a strength more than the average person for sure, and stab the knife at her face, cutting her lips with an aim for her tongue. "Novel," They say calmly in their attempt, though through gritted teeth, "Help me out?"
Initially, there is a harsh look at Isaiah at her denial to give the knife to Dean. But while others are slipping into the study, he's simply allowing Isaiah the freedom to knock an arrow and aim. His teeth grind again, and if he was as he was, it'd surely be a paddling-- but beside that, Dean moves soon after Ash does. That speed, the agility, pays off in simply covering the sparse bit of distance with a lax attitude, and walk around the en masse populace - To then twist his usurped blade and attempt to slam it straight into the back of Emilia's skull with the ferocity of someone that doesn't yet realize none of them can path back home, and whatever means of transportation they're going to take, it certainly won't be as fast or as lavish as a private jet because of this.
Ash lets go as Dean takes up Novel's slack, grabbing for the keys from where they watched her stash them as they were leaving before lurching forward, rushing as fast as they can, trying to hold back their scream of agony as they bolt.
In one brutal motion, Dean slams the blade into the back of Emilia's skull. The force of the blow sends a sickening explosion of kinetic energy through the elevator. Brains, blood, and gore splatter everywhere, coating Dean, Ash, and the once-pristine, but old, BUT PRISTINE walls of the elevator in a grotesque display of death. The stench fills the air as Emilia collapses lifeless to the floor. As her body rapidly cools, an alarm in the distance blares, harkening them all back to reality and the rapidly dwindling time. Shit is going to continue to get exponentially harder if they do not LEAVE now.
"God dammit, Dean, our /payment/!!" Isaiah hollers, no need for subtleties anymore now that they've exploded the Hell out of the basement- and Emilia's skull, apparently. What a group of mercenaries. Killing their employer /before/ the money exchanges hands. Well, if nothing else can be said of The Forged Fortune, it's that they at least stick to their fucking guns, and they don't take shit from /anybody/. She flinches her face in as she runs up to her Alpha, bracing for the assured impact of exploding skull when the Hex-Tech force of that knife activates, and she tries to gesture him towards the door gently, not getting too close considering the paddling she'll receive when this Cleanse is over is palpable between them. All over a fancy knife. "Dean," is the only thing she says afterwards, her voice soft and urging all at once as the alarm begins to blare in the distance. "We have to go," murmurs the curly-headed cutie, her freckled features stained by blood, a beautifully grotesque scene upon her cherubic face.
Novel pauses a moment, tears into his pockets, yanks out a clean condom, rips it, shoves it into the bleeding hole in his foot and quickly rips a pick-me-up through a quick snort through the nose before continuing on his way. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck," He mutters as the alarm goes off, his back gradually disappearing back towards the path while the others commit homicide.
Undeterred, uncaring, Dean licks the corner of his mouth of some stray viscera, then wipes the back of his fist and sleeve against his whole mouth- his eyes, clears off just enough gore so he can continue unhindered. While Ash scampers off to find the keys, Dean moves on towards the chest now. Surely some old tome that has survived for so long could survive this too -- but he does make an effort to be gentle. Without his usual mountain of a strength, he shoves the tip of the dagger as carefully as he can to explode just the lock, nothing else. "What payment?" It sounds like he had a singular reason in coming here -- and it was not to get paid. He's here for the grimoire inside the chest Kah and Isaiah so helpfully brought out. "Find a window, we're jumping out and running when I get it." Dean calls over his shoulder anyway. "Fuck taking the long route back around."
[OOC: You guys are absolutely free to pose out so I can get you back. This hot mess of action sounds like a perfect ending.]
Ash doesn't know who Dean is talking to over his shoulder - they already booked it. They knew where the keys were, so there was no scampering. They did their job, and they are going. They don't even explain what Isaiah forgot about their payment - they need ALL their breath for running. They take the keys to the van, sliding in and turning it on, leaving as soon as everyone's in. Once they can get and go, they remind people, "We aren't working for her - we're working for Tyrell and Sienna. So long as we get it back, we're good - she was just our in, remember?" They GPS back to the airport where they were dropped off, so that Tyrell can take them home.
The descent into the mansion brought the team face to face with death and decay, their mission marred by monstrous attacks and a suffocating aura of dread. Misfortunes compounded when they tragically stumbled upon the remains of fae women, victims of DuMont's grotesque experiments, their cries for salvation echoing through the chilling air, leaving the team with a ghastly choice: save the innocent or secure the objective.
Tensions reached their climax in a frenzied escape, with the team plagued by an onslaught of twisted creatures. Through quick thinking and desperate maneuvers, they managed to secure the codex but at a high cost. The defining moment came at a critical juncture in their escape; Emilia, once an ally, met a gruesome end at the hands of Dean, revealing fractures within the group's moral compass. This act of violence, born out of perceived necessity, underscored the murky ethics of their profession and left the team grappling with the weight of their decisions as they fled the manor.
With the grimoire in hand and their erstwhile contact slain, they hastened their departure, driven by a mix of triumph and trepidation. Isaiah and Dean's relationship, complex and laden with unspoken undertones, stood as a testament to the ephemeral bonds forged in the shadows of their line of work. Novel's stormy mix of humor and resilience softened the grim proceedings, while Kah's steadfast might, though muted by the cleanse, reminded them of the strength in unity.
As they made their escape, the consequences of their actions, both seen and unforeseen, loomed large, painting a vivid picture of the sacrifices and compromises inherent in the pursuit of power. The group's turbulent journey back to Tyrell corp, under Ash's pragmatic guidance, left them to ponder the true cost of their victory. Amongst the backdrop of supernatural politics and arcane mysteries, their story serves as a grim reminder of the lengths to which individuals will go for revenge, knowledge, and survival in a world that teeters on the brink of unfathomable darkness.
(The Price of Power(SRSienna):SRSienna)
[Fri Sep 27 2024]
On Hangar C-7, Lambert Private Airstrip
A utilitarian space, the hangar is dominated by a single sleek private jet, its silver hull gleaming under dim industrial lighting. The polished concrete floor reflects the faint buzz of fluorescent tubes above, casting long shadows over a row of stacked cargo crates near the far wall. A black SUV idles near the open doors, its headlights spilling out onto the tarmac. A folding table sits off to the side, cluttered with maps and gear, ready for a quick briefing before heading out.
It is night, about 73F(22C) degrees, The area is wreathed in mist. There is a waning crescent moon.
OOC: Just giving a few more minutes to see if there's any stragglers, then I'll get your opening set on the plane ready.
The hum of the private jet's engines drifts quietly as the small plane descends through the twilight skies. Inside, the cabin is dim, lit by the glow of the onboard consoles as a satellite communication terminal crackles to life. The message is brief but urgent: Tyrell Corp's encrypted transmission.
"Your target: a grimoire called The Codex of Shadows of Silicon. Emilia Broussard will be your contact on the ground. She's our contact against GrandMaster DuMont, a Red Circle arcanist. Her stake? Revenge. Yours? The grimoire. Anything else is secondary. Youll land in five minutes - get ready."
The plane dips lower, the glow of the New Orleans skyline fading behind as it heads toward the private airstrip. Outside the window, the horizon has just swallowed the last bit of the sun, leaving the sky in hues of deep purple and inky black. The dense, humid air presses against the plane as it touches down, the runway lights flickering on either side.
As the small jet taxis to a halt, the oppressive heat of the Louisiana evening hits like a wave. The tarmac still radiates warmth from the day, and the thick humidity clings to every surface. Waiting just beyond the open hangar doors is a sleek, black SUV, its headlights cutting through the gathering darkness. The engine idles softly, surrounded by faint wisps of mist rising from the cooling pavement.
Near the vehicle stands Emilia Broussard, a short, sharp figure framed by the flickering glow of surveillance drones that buzz above her head. A few Tyrell Corp operatives linger by the hangar entrance, equipped with cutting-edge tech, while a squat, four-legged mech; more utilitarian than imposing; sits by the side of the SUV, its armored chassis gleaming under the floodlights. Emilia steps forward, her expression a mix of impatience and tension, ready to brief the arriving team.
[OOC: This is going to be fast-paced, but heavily dependent on choices and story. Please have fun and enjoy being a vulnerable, powerless meatbag for the duration of this plot during the cleanse.]
Ducking to step through the exit of the small jet, Kah takes slow steps down the staircase and pauses to glance up at the night sky. Loose clothing keeps him from becoming too sweltering but he seems well-acclimated to the heat. He steps to the side, happy to take his cue from the others there for the time being. He waits for Isaiah, Dean, and Ash to depart the plane stoically as he turns attention toward their point of contact and more curiously at the machines and strange technology that goes well beyond the man's understanding.
Ash walks carefully out of the hangar, occasionally reaching out to Kah for balance as they accidentally turn wrong in their goofy little rib cast. At least their hoodie covers it, but one can see the awkwardness in their movements. Still, they're here, and seem intent on this mission. They keep their sunglasses on despite the dark of twilight, along with Novel. without their normally advanced eyesight, it's a bad idea, but they seem reluctant to break the habit. Seeing Emilia, they leave Kah behind to give her a nod, drawling to her, "Good evening, Ms. Broussard." Their French is not ideal, but it has those New Orleans creole accents to it." They glance to Isaiah, before deciding whether or not to step up to greet her fully themself."
Ash walks carefully out of the hangar, occasionally reaching out to Kah for balance as they accidentally turn wrong in their goofy little rib cast. At least their hoodie covers it, but one can see the awkwardness in their movements. Still, they're here, and seem intent on this mission. They keep their sunglasses on despite the dark of twilight, along with Novel. without their normally advanced eyesight, it's a bad idea, but they seem reluctant to break the habit. Seeing Emilia, they leave Kah behind to give her a nod, drawling to her, "Good evening, Ms. Broussard." Their French is not ideal, but it has those New Orleans creole accents to it. They glance to Isaiah, before deciding whether or not to step up to greet her fully themself. (fix)
Novel is picking his nails with a knife, relaxed, and terribly dressed for the whole situation. He's spent, pretty much, the entire trip just asleep instead of doing something insensible like pacing. The only reason he's here is to goon it up with Isaiah, if we're being totally honest. He gives the mech an interested look, perking up and sliding the blade away. It's unclear if the man's trying to be cool or if because he just doesn't give enough of a shit to see what's going on. "Man." He murmurs. "Feel that fucking air. My skin feels GREAT."
Isaiah is probably doing her best to enjoy her time on the private jet, moving about the space like it's the sort of travel she's encountered before; taking advantage of every complimentary amenity from booze to food, but not stuffing herself. She's careful to maintain a dull buzz from any alcohol she samples, and by the time they land, the feeling coursing through her veins would be nearly, if not completely gone. She makes idle chatter with her companions in the pauses where they aren't discussing their game plan, adding touches of comedy to an otherwise stoic and serious topic. She's careful not to overdo it, which is rare for her, considering how idiotic she tends to be on her own mission. Perhaps she values her Pack, her family, and their goals just a touch more than her own. Enough to ensure that she's not making a complete ass of herself, anyways.
When finally the plane lands, she steps down the stairs slowly and carefully, her ombre dress flowing around her petite-thick form like lava caught in stasis, silken material slipping over hips that would be bare otherwise if it weren't for her scant amount of clothing. She touches Kah on the arm in passing, smiling up at the big guy, and otherwise seems to make a mental note that she will be on Novel Watch. Even during the trip, she was keeping a rather close eye on him. She knows the greasy fuck better than anyone here, after all, and she seems automatically suspicious that he's going to fuck shit up worse than she does. It seems to, still, be all love, though. "It's been a few years since I was down here," she confesses, but that's all the banter she manages before her pretty blue eyes trail to Emilia and her own gang of goons; her cherubic face grows a touch stoic all over again, an aura of seriousness overcoming the curvaceous redhead.
It was a long flight. Or a short one. What it was, it was hard to tell. Dean slept through much of it with his legs kicked up on a table at a private booth with a single chair, arms folded and head put against the glass to sleep. That had only lasted up until their descent - and lidded, dim eyes now stare out at the fast approaching ground with some deeply seeted animosity residing in their wholly, sadly totally human hue. It doesn't look like he'll get up to move out like the others; not until everyone has vacated at least.
True to it, Dean leaves last, hands in the pockets of his hoodie and with a lethargic if not outright lazy air about him as he eventually makes his way to the top of the ramp-- then while everyone descends the normal way, Dean sits at the railing, kicks his legs out, and slides the whole way down. The last few meters are hopped down without breaking stride, or removing his hands. Almost stoically graceful, and in a spiteful show that even with a cleanse there are some things you can't erase. Lazy or not, it lands him down somewhere behind Kah, and eventually move up to level a low glare at Emilia, and here mech. It's a demand in his eyes. He says; 'debrief, now', non-verbally. It looks like you can take the wolf out of a man but you can't make him any less of an overbearing asshole.
The soft rumble of the SUV engine cuts through the thick silence as Emilia Broussard steps into the circle of light, eyeing the team with a measured look. Her lips twitch in a brief, appreciative acknowledgement of Ash's attempts to speak her tongue, but she does not speak. Instead, she scans over the team of expendables standing in front of her.
"I know the cleanse has you feeling like you're running on empty," she begins, looking from Novel and Ash to Kah, Isaiah, and Dean, her voice low but firm. "You're not alone. Every supernatural here and around the world is feeling it. No abilities, no gifts... just the bodies we've got, and whatever tools we can put our hands on. And you, little Mister Wannabe Badass, get the stick out your ass and do try to keep up," she eyes Dean distastefully, then turns on her heel with a sharp nod toward another of the Tyrell Corp plants overseeing the exchange.
She gestures toward the open trunk of the SUV. Inside, a collection of high-tech gear is laid out: ssleek, matte-black weapons, compact communication devices, surveillance drones, and more. The faint hum of sophisticated equipment fills the air as she steps closer, her hand grazing the edge of one of the crates.
"Tyrell Corp anticipated this, Emilia continues. "They've provided a full suite of tools to make sure you can still handle yourselves out there. Heres what were working with."
She motions for one of the Tyrell operatives to step forward and start handing out the equipment. [OOC: Please pick one or two weapons or gear to bring with you. It may be life or CONSEQUENCES for someone later on...]"
Moving over quietly to the SUV, Kah scans across the equipment. Guns .. batons ... ballistic armor. There, Kah reaches and picks up one single thing only. A modern compound bow, and the collection of arrows that come with it whatever they may be. With nothing in the realm of protective gear he feels he can use he just shrugs large shoulders but notes one other thing. It's not much but he slips a set of what look like knuckle dusters in his pocket in case it comes to fisticuffs and steps away once he's prepared. With a glance toward Dean and Isaiah first, the man frowns and steps back toward their direction to wait until everyone is ready to move forward.
Moving over quietly to the SUV, Kah scans across the equipment. Guns .. batons ... ballistic armor. There, Kah reaches and picks up one single thing only. A modern compound bow, and the collection of arrows that come with it whatever they may be. With nothing in the realm of protective gear he feels he can use he just shrugs large shoulders but notes one other thing. It's not much but he slips a set of what look like knuckle dusters in his pocket in case it comes to fisticuffs and steps away once he's prepared. With a glance toward Dean and Isaiah first, the man frowns and steps back toward their direction to wait until everyone is ready to move forward. (Repost IN case)
Isaiah's choice of weapons and armor seem to come to her easy: she chooses the closest thing to a shortbow available, which is likely some mechanized compound bow courtesy of Tyrell. She lifts the beast in her arms and tests the weight of the strings, getting herself used to the new tension with the weapon that is both familiar and not. Not to mention, drawing it back with human strength is a far cry from the strength her Wolf provides; otherwise she might be bashing anyone in her way with some unfortunate fuck's motorcycle, using it like some sort of makeshift warhammer. When she's satisfied that she's gotten herself used to the item, her next request is: "Six incendiary rounds and four explosive shots. The rest can be barbed arrows." Her voice is soft and feminine, but cold and calm all at once; it's not the Isaiah those around here are used to, the bubbly joy-filled girl that runs around Haven calling herself the Queen of Devilwood. The only Queen she is here is a Queen Bee, and apparently these arrows are going to be her stingers.
Despite all of this, the ginger-haired cutie looks amused when Kah picks up something similar, and finally her request of melee weapon is thus: "I need a short blade. Bowie knife, stiletto, what have you. Got anything with a little blow-back to it?" she inquires, explaining further that she hopes Tyrell Corp has found a way to mechanize 'force' in some concussive fashion that would increase the power of her strikes, knocking back any foes that get too close with a blast of thunderous power. If such isn't the case, she chooses something simple: A good old fashioned pocket knife with a serrated blade. Old faithful. Either way, the weapon is twirled deftly in her fingertips then slipped into a normal-sized pocket on her dress, because women deserve functional pockets too. Apart from this, she requests the closest thing offered to leather armor. Easy to manuever in, basic protection against slashing, but also not cumbersome. She intends to be moving fast here, and being dodgy rather than tanking herself up with her typical plate mail. Steely eyes pan to Dean curiously for a time, then to Novel, inspecting their choices as well,, as though she might alter her own to accommodate or compliment the rest of the team.
Ash looks over the gadgets, their golden green hazel eyes going wide over the shiny, shiny gear available to them. They take off their sunglasses before getting a rifle immediately, checking it out carefully before looking over the drones and other devices. After ensuring that the safety is on, they slide it carefully into their sloth bag before looking things over carefully again. Chewing on a bottom lip, they seem hesitant before picking up a surveillance drone, as well as the tools that come with it.
Ash starts to hold it under one arm, before nearly dropping it, agony on their face before simply setting it onto the table instead, reaching for a pain pill to take now. Finally, they bring a bead to their face, checking to see if their normal comms would work, or if they would need to grab something else for that. Perhaps they can be reworked to a different frequency?
His disinterest shows, Dean looks away this time, ignoring the high-tech gear laid out while he drags hiss tongue underneath completely mundane teeth like the absence of large canids is a point of annoyance more than their existence was. The operative that approaches him gets no look whatsover, Dean lazily plucks off a sleek crossbow and its accompanying bolts off of their suitcase and a pair of walkie-talkies. Nothing else was in the crate offered to him anyhow. Without uttering a word, Dean chucks one of the devices at Kah with an underhand throw for him to catch, and the look he gives seems clear enough when it darts from the towering behemoth to Isaiah, alongside a nod that deigns to inform, "Stick with her. I'll keep in touch with you both if we separate."
Kah reaches out without a second thought - hand snagging the walkie out of the air without so much as a glance. He studies the device for a moment, before nodding at Dean. "On my honor" he says to the other man before turning his attention back to Isaiah. "You and me."
Emilia moves to the hood of the SUV, where a map of the mansion is spread out. "Here's the plan. Mister DuMont's not at the mansion right now; hes at some family gathering. We've got a window of three to four hours before he's back, which is tight but enough to get what we need."
She leans over the map, tracing a finger along the lines of the floor plan. "We're going in through the service entrance here, off the side wing. That'll take us into the mansion without triggering any of the front-facing security. From there, well pass through the study; Mister DuMont's personal library, and we'll need to be careful. The place is littered with tripwires and enchantments, but most of them should be dormant with the cleanse."
Her finger taps a hidden panel marked on the map. "Here's where we'll hit the secret elevator. It's old, built into the walls back when this place was renovated. It'll take us down to the basement levels where he's keeping his collection, along with the grimoire you're all after."
She glances up at the team, her expression hard. "Our primary objective is the grimoire. We get in, we get out, and before Mister DuMont even knows we've were there."
A pregnant pause while, before she reluctantly asks, "Any questions? You can ask them once we're on the road. It's the thirty minute drive and we don't have time to fuck around."
"Hey, it's been interesting. I'm pretty used to having the pointy end of the stick shoved into me," Novel casually admits to his misbegotten behavior leading to misbegotten results, but the cleanse had one positive effect: It doesn't make him feel like stabbing and angering every single person he's ever met, leading to someone who's a lot more mentally stable. There's no swagger - just a casual stroll of a man dressed to exercise. In point of fact... if you threw him down pretty much anywhere in the world, he'd look like he'd belong.
He looks over the weapons, the tools and toys, his brow furrowing in thought as he picks up one of the communication devices and rolls it through his fingers. And then it disappears into into his pockets. A kevlar vest vanishes the same way, making himself look a little bulkier, shimmying a bit as he gets the cup and leggings in place under the sweatpants, the bagginess of everything hiding it pretty easily. He perks up, giving an interested look. A terrible grin sprawls across his features.
"Hey, what's -that-?" Of course he picks up a FUCKING BOMB. Well. It's technically a thermite breaching charge. But still. Then he tucks it away.
Kah is given a look - one that, with Dean's brow raised, translates to a wordless 'the fuck, man' at the way he speaks, but otherwise, he simply, somewhat tentatively nod over to the behemoth himself, then to Isaiah -- before allowing his focus to settle on the map, the plan for DuMont. The plan chosen specially to infiltrate DuMont's mansion. DuMont's infiltration. Dean probably already forgot about it because he continues his stride. The way he hangs that crossbow at his side, lifts his hoodie slightly to do it, shows some old and worn armor under the garment hidden away - then off he goes to slip into the SUV and claim a window-side spot before anyone else can.
Novel suits himself up with the rest of his stuff - a small hand crossbow, but he opts to keep his bowie knife. "Thanks, but I'll stick with the familiar."
A silent shrug comes from Kah, but he sticks close to Isaiah as he tucks the walkie into his pocket or clips it to the waist of his pants and he nudges the petite woman toward the SUV. "Sooner started, sooner finished" he murmurs to himself as well as the group before glancing toward Ash and Novel. "Be on your guard, and be safe."
Novel suggests, sort of jokingly, "We could have Jay dress up as a girl scout trying to sell cookies. Distract them at the front door."
Ash frowns at the plan, looking over the map. "Mmm, I was hoping to pick a rooftop and use this drone here. Getting up close and personal in my condition is... less than ideal." They consider the map, looking it over and over again, before sniping, "Novel... you missed the part about 'before Mister DuMont knows were were there - bombs do *not* play a part in this mission." Looking over the map one last time, they pull out their phone, carefully taking a picture before saying, "Grab a smoke bomb instead, should help with lasers or if spotted."
They grab a walkie, just in case their current comms won't work, climbing into the van with a grunt and a grimace as they explain, "I'll take the rear, I'll be support. What's the frequency, Dean? I'll sync up." To Kah, they smirk, drawling, "I always am... and trust me, this is what I'm trained for, it's also not my first rodeo." Yeah, half dead, with broken ribs, they're America's top spy right now, be impressed.
Kah flashes a wolfish grin, "This is why I like you" he says to Ash in a friendly tone.
"It's not a BOMB, it's a - quick, what'd you say it was again?" Novel leans over to an operative that whispers in his ear. "YES. THANK YOU. A -breaching- charge. You know. In case the grimoire is in a safe. Completely stealthy." He's bullshitting, but the dude issuing the gear behind him just sort of - pinches the bridge of his nose and reluctantly nods. He claps his hands. "I can take a smoke bomb too, I think I got enough room in here for another goodie." He reaches for ol' smokies.
The air hangs heavy with moisture as the team finishes gearing up. Emilia's features are pinched, her outlook dismal after watching the expendables' banter amongst each other, gesturing toward the waiting black SUV. Its doors open with a soft hiss when the team climbs inside, the cool, air-conditioned interior a brief relief from the thick Louisiana humidity outside. The vehicle rumbles to life, tires crunching over the cracked tarmac as it pulls away from the hangar and toward the sprawling darkness of the bayou.
Inside, the faint glow of dashboard lights illuminates Emilias face as she settles into the front passenger seat. Her gaze shifts briefly to the rearview mirror, watching the team in silence as the SUV glides down a long, empty road, headlights cutting through the night.
"The DuMont familys been tied to the Red Circle for generations," Emilia says, her voice casual, though there's an edge beneath it. "Old money. Old magic. Theyve always had their hands in strange things, but Alarion? He's different. Obsessed with blending technology and the arcane. The Codex is --."
A burst of static interrupts the steady hum of the SUV. The radio crackles to life, the voice of a local news anchor cutting through the sound of the bayou."`^Another young woman has been reported missing from St. Bernard Parish tonight, marking the third disappearance in as many weeks. Police are urging locals to stay indoors after dark, though they've yet to comment on a possible connection between the cases..." The voice fades as static overtakes the signal, leaving the cabin in tense silence.
The SUV rattles slightly as the road becomes rougher, the edges of civilization falling away as they head deeper into the bayou. Shadows lengthen, and the distant croak of frogs and the hum of insects rises above the low growl of the engine.
(`^OOC: Please follow SRSienna so I can take you all to the next room. Things are going to go a lot quicker after this.)
"The Cleanse may have erased the enchantments, but the tripwires will still be active," Isaiah notes to the motley crew as she commits the instructions as well as the floor plan to memory. This is Isaiah in business mode, her eyes more glacial than fiery now as she slings her compound bow onto her back and ensures that her fingertips memorize the difference in the fletching on each type of arrow from incendiary to explosive to barbed. No mishaps. She won't have to look into her quiver to figure out what's what, or to second-guess herself.
Novel starts bullying the uptight teeny-tiny thing, though, and before they get into the SUV she decides to test the power on her newfound knife, lightly slapping the dull side of the blade against his kevlar with a roll of her eyes in passing, then pausing to see how far he gets blown back, if any distance at all. It's alway good to know if the force of the weapon is based on impact-power, or if it's a set amount, after all. She's the smallest of the group, so once she /is/ in a vehicle, it's likely she gets squished up between Kah, who has been assigned as her bodyguard this evening, and some other poor unfortunate soul who has to suffer her still-fidgety nature.
The larger man takes the ride mostly in silence as they consider where they're heading and what they're doing. "Stealth is not my place, but we will have to be on the lookout for any servants or other eyeballs. One rise of the alarm and things will get much worse for us I think" Kah offers.
Admittedly, Novel would have taken a shopping cart and just loaded the entire contents of everything into it before wheeling off if he had a chance to. He's not one that fills others with confidence. "Just think! You could wear a tiny skirt and if that wide-eyed doe-eyed look doesn't work you could flash your-" And then there's a knife as he rolls to the side away from Isaiah, intending to roll with whatever blow happens regardless of how bad it is. Instincts and all.
"I don't fucking know, I never used one before." Dean tells towards Ash then his walkie talkie is chucked over yonder across everyone for the spritely other to catch, if he can. Dean doesn't look like he cares much whether they do or not. "Set something up and prepare them before we get there." They do have thirty-minutes after all, and after Dean meet Emilia's gaze on the rearview window staring at them, it is a thirty-minute drive that he seems intent on spending in quiet meditation. Or just raw, projected animosity spent peering out the window.
Novel then ends up crammed in the tin can with everyone else.
As Isaiah tests the blade, tapping the dull side of the knife lightly against Novel's kevlar vest, there's a brief, almost imperceptible click from the handle. A small but noticeable burst of kinetic energy fires off, the impact leaving a minor ache from where it impacts through the man's kevlar.
Ash sets up the radio frequency quickly, then, after glancing at everyone else, realizes that, more than anyone, it's *them* that needs their blessing. And so, they reach into the strings of fate, distant and faded... just like they were before they were activated. Except, now they know where to look. They *pull*, and... well. Everyone else just sees them focus on something else, fidgeting a bit with their hands and fingers, before looking back down at the walkies with a newfound focus. They let their intuition guide them, to find the right frequency to ensure that they are not overheard.
At the very least, *one* gift is available to them. Something so inborn, so innate, that not even this cleanse could take it away.
To Emilia, plush brown lips form the question, "The Codex what? Please tell us, the more information, the better." She will find that Ash is full of questions, eager to get as much relevant detail out of her that they can during that ride.
Novel produces a long, low whistle, but his expression is one of a mingled amount of admiration and dismay. "Wow. Is that a compound or a prison? I bet those gates would look nice on Sludgefukk..."
Emilia glances through the rearview mirror back at Ash when she hears their question. "The Codex of Shadows of Silicon, full of esoteric rituals centered around more dangerous, experimental forms of magic. I once heard someone say that, in the wrong hands, a spell from it could be capable of rending through the fabric of time and space itself, but people are fucking overexaggerating liars," she mutters low under her breath.
After what feels like an hour of driving through increasingly narrow and overgrown roads, the SUV slows as it approaches a wide, iron gaterusted with age but still formidable, half-obscured by the thick vegetation of the bayou. Beyond it, the outline of the manor emerges from the darkness.
The old plantation house looms ahead, its once-grand faade crumbling under decades of disrepair. Gnarled trees surround the property, their branches twisted as if reaching for the manor itself. The floodlights positioned around the grounds offer only small islands of light in the sea of encroaching darkness.
Beyond the gate, the overgrown grounds of DuMont Manor stretch out, shrouded in mist and shadow. The dim floodlights offer only brief glimpses of the estate; tall, gnarled trees looming on either side, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching out toward the decaying mansion.
Emilia cuts the engine and turns to the group, her voice low. "This is it. We're not going in through the front; we need to hit the side entrance, stay out of sight. But weve got two ways to get there." She gestures to the map on her tablet, showing the team their options:
Option One: The Garden Path
A narrow path winds through what used to be the manor's formal garden, now overgrown with waist-high weeds and thorny vines. The path is partially obscured by underbrush, offering plenty of cover, but its littered with debris, old statues, and overgrown bushes that could slow them down or make noise.
Option Two: The Servant's Trail
To the right of the gate is a disused trail that leads past the overgrown remnants of the manors servant quarters. The path is mostly clear, though exposed, with fewer obstacles, but theyll need to move fast and stay low to avoid the patrols. It's more direct but has less cover.
Ash immediately makes their vote for the garden path silently, pointing in that direction - then pulls their finger back as they narrow their eyes. Glancing over the gathered group, they point at the servant's trail instead, telling the two bigs guys, "I need one of you to carry me on your back, and we can move quickly. I don't think any of us is tenderfooted enough for the garden."
Novel immediately states, "Yeah, I'm with Ash on this fucking one. I can move fast enough and hell, I look like a jogger, so whatever." He stretches easy, limbering up and starting to work his legs and thighs.
Given his assignment to keep a close eye on Isaiah, it's close to them that Kah will stay. Whichever option they choose, the large man will be there to accompany her in the endeavour. There's a quiet sense of focus that comes over the man now that they're at the site of their goal and he moves as quietly as he can when they do take their beginning. "Just remembr to keep your weapons at the ready. If you see anyone - better to put them down first."
"My vote is on the Servant's Trail," Isaiah says to the gathered team, listing the merits of the path by pointing out a few of the flaws in the ragtag roster they've brought along. "Novel is clumsy as shit and he drags his feet... All of those debris- Ash!" she hisses out in a stage whisper that's hissed through her teeth. "Kah is large, and he's heavy- if we start rustling around fucking garbage, we'll get swamped in no time," she points out, then hooks a thumb towards Dean. "And this one... Well.. He probably doesn't give a fuck enough /not/ to make noise. God dammit- at least on the Trail Dean and I can dispatch patrols from afar before they raise the alarm- those brambles are going to be Hell attempting the same," the petite thing tries to explain.
The dying of the engine, and the subsequent offer of options from Emilia's tablet is what drives Dean up and awake. He definitely had not been sleeping against the glass, it was quiet, reflective meditation. Though, he does give a lethargic draw of hi sleeve against his mouth, too. Once he's stared long enough, the decision only seems obvious, and he deigns to speak for everyone as Ash and Novel seem to be getting on the same page as well. "Let's go with two, fast and quick. No need to waste time." There is probably a plethora of explanations, valid reasonings or the like that could be made, and a discusssion to be had but Dean doesn't wait for anything while he seems to think that decision is enough, and retreats back. The door is kicked open, and Dean is out.
Novel has an expression filled with glee as he chases on after Dean, beating feet, albeit probably more slowly than the wolf-man. Tump tump tump go those running shoes, the only thing indicating he's not just a man running for the energy of running in his totally normally outfit is the small crossbow strapped to his wrist - designed for close engagements. He glances down at it now, in thought, his brow momentarily furrowing in consternation.
Dean flourishes his legs.
Emilia sighs, running her fingers through her hair before nodding. "Alright, fast and direct it is. Stay low, stay sharp," she murmurs toward the group, pushing open the SUV door. The humid night air hits like a wall as she motions for everyone to follow.
Emilia sighs, running her fingers through her hair before nodding. "Alright, fast and direct it is. Stay low, stay sharp," she murmurs toward the group, pushing open the SUV door. The humid night air hits like a wall as she motions for everyone to follow.
The group moves swiftly along the disused servant's trail, the path winding around the rusted remains of old buildings swallowed by creeping vines. The trail itself is mostly clear, but exposed, with the faint glow of the floodlights casting jagged shadows across the ground.
[Showstat perception please][Showstat perception please]
Which means, Dean, even in his weakened state - is obviously at the speed of a moving vehicle. The crosssbow at his belt is unhooked, stuffed with bolts, drawn and tensioned before he straight up snatches one of the talkies from Ash currently being hauled up by Kah. And he's off, like he said he would be - and most definitely with no plan whatsoever in mind. The side-entry meets a shoulder, burst with his weight, and he starts running- no end to that stamina in sight even without his wolf. Low to the ground, literally, but maybe not the sharpest.
Isaiah his teeny short legs, and glares at Kah and Dean with their tall selves, long legs and power. Her brows furrow and she utters a soft 'hmph' of jealousy, having to move at double time to keep up with them. At least Novel suffers alongside her, but she uses the extra time it takes her to catch up to knock a barbed arrow into her compound bow and pull back the string only slightly- just enough tension to keep it readied for a quick release as needed.
Novel huffs and puffs, giving Isaiah a surprise, squinty look before doing his best to keep up with the two faster, more sensitive people, the thump-thump-thump of his feet while vaguely wishing some of his powers still worked.
The sight causes a pauses in the man, bringing himself to a stop as he holds up a hand sharply. Then Kah's stepping over the wire to continue their way forward before any other of them can run the wire. He puts a finger to his lips now, keeping himself nice and quiet (as he can) before shifting his attention back to the door and the way forward.
[OOC: Everyone received their own special privates for their respective perception stats, so I'll wait for those responses before we go on.]
Novel should probably take his sunglasses off. Actually, wait, why the hell is he wearing sunglasses? They get ripped off and shoved into a pocket as he does his best to just keep running. He COULD have been an animal. Maybe. He leaves the branch behind, slowing as Kah does his thing and obediently hopping over when he catches up.
At once, near instant given his reaction speed, Dean lifts that crossbow while running. The thunderous noise of the plank he's crushed underfoot echoes pretty loudly ahead of the group, but it doesn't sound off as bad as the shot he takes with a firm pull of the trigger straight off-the-path with little regard or care for sanctity of human life. The bolt goes thwack, flies straight for the throat for the guard he alerted with the aim to punch through and leave him a gasping mess, if he can.
It's Isaiah that ends up splashing her boots through a muddy puddle after insisting everyone take the quieter route. She draws in a hiss of a breath, far behind Kah who carries Ash, and Dean who plays the part of lone wolf. The ladder dispatches the guard he'd alerted while the former halts the group; it's a good thing Isaiah already had one of those barbed arrows locked and loaded, because as a flashlight starts to sweep in her direction, she unleashes it, aiming for the soft tissues of the patrolman's right eye as the serrated weapon goes flying through the air towards him, her reflexes nowhere near as good as Dean's, but at the very least she isn't a terrible shot.
The guards go down with a muted thud before they can alert any of other patrolling companions in the area of any strange sightings and sounds, leaving the team able to progress down the rest of the path unmolested. he air remains thick with tension, but no more patrols seem to be in their way. As they approach the side entrance of the manor, Emilia is already there, crouched near the door. She motions to a series of faint, intricate marks carved into the wood, wards that would normally bar their entry. " entry. "Cleanse took care of those," she mutters, pulling out a set of lockpicks. Within moments, she expertly works the locks open with a soft click, and the door creaks open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the manor. "We're in.""
The guards go down with a muted thud before they can alert any of other patrolling companions in the area of any strange sightings and sounds, leaving the team able to progress down the rest of the path unmolested. he air remains thick with tension, but no more patrols seem to be in their way. As they approach the side entrance of the manor, Emilia is already there, crouched near the door. She motions to a series of faint, intricate marks carved into the wood, wards that would normally bar their entry. "Cleanse took care of those," she mutters, pulling out a set of lockpicks. Within moments, she expertly works the locks open with a soft click, and the door creaks open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the manor. "We're in." [Fixed]
Trying to recall the map, Kah nudges Isaiah once they're inside, shifting his weight a little bit so he can more easily keep Ash's weight along his back and shoulders. He crouches or takes a knee while they're waiting for their escort to pop the lock and then they're inside. A small frown comes across his face, eyes keeping their attention on everything they can.
Obviously Dean has already forgot where he needs to take his warpath on, but after ducking in alongside Emilia, Dean is stuffing his crossbow with yet another bolt and cranking it back slowly. If there is one thing he visibly struggles with, it is raw strength - he probably couldn't do this midcombat, which shows as a point of frustration. Without the deceptive weight of a wolf looming in his shadow and roaring through muscles, Dean is, for lack of a better word, built for sheer speed and agility instead of overbearing strength. Still, he plays into it - Dean leans upon a wall to slide along, reduced to an ambush predator as he is, he takes point by the side in wait just in case he needs to flank anyone wandering down. Emilia is given a look only after the rest of the group have fell in, too, waiting on her lead, or anyone elses, really, to show the path.
"This must be the service entrance," Isaiah murmurs in hushed tones, reciting the plan of action quietly to the team despite her blunder. "Past here is front security... We get past them and we can reach the study slash library- remember to watch for tripwires once inside," she instructs, attempting to redeem herself by listing it all off from sheer memory alone. She's careful to quietly scrape any leftover mud or muck from her boots before letting Kah nudge her inside, though she doesn't look eager to be on the frontline. She equipped herself to bring up the rear while Dean and Kah acted as her meatshields, but with Kah now carrying Ash, it seems that plan has changed. She grumbles faintly, then pauses, glancing over her shoulder at Novel and watching him for just long enough to ensure that he isn't up to any shenanigans, or that he hasn't somehow injured himself.
It is with clean boots that she slowly creeps herself into the estate, eyes peeled for any movement; she'd rather incapacitate servants than slaughter them, but the look in her eyes says she'll do what she has to if there's no other choice; her innate demonic blood no longer demanding of her the suffering she could possibly inflict upon others, necessary or not.
Novel smiles faintly back at Isaiah in the dim light, though it might be be visible as he trails on the ass end of the group, although mostly figuratively. Hopefully not literally in a human centipede. Not only is that gross but it would be pretty hard to be stealthy. His own, smaller handbow, winds back with subtle, sibilant click. A weapon that won't accidentally break windows but, alas, was less-than-useful outside.
The door creaks open, revealing a narrow hallway leading into the servant's quarters. The air inside is stale, carrying the scent of dust and damp wood. The dim, flickering light from a few ancient wall sconces barely illuminates the cramped corridor, lined with faded wallpaper peeling at the edges. The manor's age is showing, and each step the group takes is met with a soft groan of the floorboards beneath their feet. Emilia gestures ahead as she tucks her tools back into pocket. "Servant's quarterse are mostly empty, but we're not completely in the clear. From here, there's two ways forward," she murmurs, pointing to the end of the corridor:
Option One: The Panty Route
To the left, a door leads into an old, unused pantry area. Its narrow, cluttered with forgotten furniture and storage crates that create a tight maze to navigate. The area is largely quiet, but with little room to move quickly. There's a single obstacle: a malfunctioning security camera that still sweeps across the pantry entrance. The camera is low-tech and slow, but one wrong step and it could trigger an alarm.
Option Two: The Back Stairwell
To the right, a dusty stairwell leads down into the basement area, providing a quicker route. However, the stairs themselves are fragile, creaking ominously with each step. One wrong move, and the team risks a broken step or loud noise that could attract attention. Halfway down, a door sticks, requiring force to open, which could be noisy.
Emilia offers in quiet aside to Ash and Isaiah while the team deliberates, just for their consideration: "If we go with the back stairwell, we have a chance to potentially find and save the fae women that are here, being held hostage. DuMont has been collecting them for months now, which is why all those reports of missing women were piling up, and nobody can do anything about it. He's using them to try and control his fate when he would attempt to experiment with that fucking gate." A pause, inhaling a sharp breath. "If you choose to take this route with me, it may cost us time, but I would be in debt to you all. You'd be doing a good thing, saving innocent women who shouldn't have been locked up because of a selfish piece of shit."
Moving to creep a little forward, Kah will take ahead of Isaiah silently and toward Dean as they all try to move their way stealthily through the study toward the back of the mansion and their presumed target. The look he gets when he hears their options isn't a great one, but he grunts a soft sound, followed by his soft voice. "We could split, but we'll risk more chances of being discovered. The women were not labeled a priority." The giant of a man has compassion in this human state, but it only extends so far.
Novel considers someone' words and then there's a slow furrow of his forehead as he offers a salient point: "Okay, but." He pauses. "Hear me out. How do we get the women out without alerting all the guards and getting us all shot." He doesn't sound angry about this, just sort of. Puzzled. He keeps his voice hushed, at least, scratching his chin as he considers the logistics of the issue.
Novel considers Emilia's words and then there's a slow furrow of his forehead as he offers a salient point: "Okay, but." He pauses. "Hear me out. How do we get the women out without alerting all the guards and getting us all shot." He doesn't sound angry about this, just sort of. Puzzled. He keeps his voice hushed, at least, scratching his chin as he considers the logistics of the issue.
Ash looks over the marks carefully after climbing down from Kah's shoulders, grimacing again, but silent. They quickly pull out their phone, the screen dim, bringing the lightness up only so that it can barely be seen as they show the group the floorplan again. Handing the Hello Kitty phone to whoever will take it, they unload the drone from their sloth bag, looking over the manual one last time before stuffing it in their bag.
Like any fae worth their salt, they're skilled at games, and they are likely not the first to thank engineers for designing drones to work on console-like controllers. They familiarize themself with it quickly, before testing it - expecting it to be silent, with Tyrell Corp, and testing to see what sort of visual scanners it has - hopefully something that allows them to send it ahead to spot the traps and tripwire, alerting their allies as Ash moves more slowly from behind, watching their flank with their rifle and knife.
They were all set for the pantry route when Emilia offers. It takes them only a few seconds before they inform Isaiah in a quiet tone, "And if something happens, they make for a great distraction." They don't even bother hiding this from someone - Ash is known for a soft heart, but not when it comes to missions. They can feel all the feelings they want *after* the mission. They leave it to the girlboss, though. There's the possibility of bias for them, obviously... but they nod to Novel. "Something will probably happen." Damn, no chill.
Ash looks over the marks carefully after climbing down from Kah's shoulders, grimacing again, but silent. They quickly pull out their phone, the screen dim, bringing the lightness up only so that it can barely be seen as they show the group the floorplan again. Handing the Hello Kitty phone to whoever will take it, they unload the drone from their sloth bag, looking over the manual one last time before stuffing it in their bag.
Like any fae worth their salt, they're skilled at games, and they are likely not the first to thank engineers for designing drones to work on console-like controllers. They familiarize themself with it quickly, before testing it - expecting it to be silent, with Tyrell Corp, and testing to see what sort of visual scanners it has - hopefully something that allows them to send it ahead to spot the traps and tripwire, alerting their allies as Ash moves more slowly from behind, watching their flank with their rifle and knife.
They were all set for the pantry route when Emilia offers. It takes them only a few seconds before they inform Isaiah in a quiet tone, "And if something happens, they make for a great distraction." They don't even bother hiding this from Emilia - Ash is known for a soft heart, but not when it comes to missions. They can feel all the feelings they want *after* the mission. They leave it to the girlboss, though. There's the possibility of bias for them, obviously... but they nod to Novel. "Something will probably happen." Damn, no chill.
To peddle about doing a good deed, when Dean is around, is a futile endeavor. It fail to net even a shred of sympathy, empathy - or anything similar from Dean - because that deadpan stare turns from Emilia to all others instead to speak while he now stands back-to-wall beeside Kah. "Let's go take the panty route." It isn't as much as a suggestion, but more of a simple demand. Emilia, as if being chastised for the weakness in her, gets a sideway, near repulsed stare, but Dean wanders around the woman and follow the wall and cover to remain out of sight of the cameras ahead.
Ash makes a quick offer. "I'll go down, I'm not very mobile, and I have the drone. I can keep an eye out. Emilia comes with me, for locks. Dream team strike force goes down the pantry route. Sound good?"
Ash says "And if trouble comes while we have the girls, we turn on them."
Ash says "Let them loose, distractions. Cover your tracks as you beat a path out."
"If, and that's a big if, we don't trigger any traps within the study- wait..." Isaiah pauses then, furrowing her brows. "In the study there is a secret elevator that leads down into the basement anyways. We can shoot out the security camera, cut into the study, grab the grimoire, then take the elevator down," she lists off in a way that suggests she has no care in whether the Fae women live or die; they're an after thought. That's not why she's here, and she seems more than prepared to abandon them in favor of escaping with the book if things go wrong. "IF we don't set off the alarms, we can get the women from the basement, head back up the stairs, and leave the way we came. If we do trigger a trap, well... Surely the Order will come to their rescue," decides the curvaceous redhead with a roll of her eyes.
"Ash, shut the fuck up." Dean drawls aside in a sound that surely would have a growl behind it. "We're not here for some fae chicks, and if I want a distraction, I'll use you." He tip his head forward, clear indication for them to follow along. Whatever Isaiah seems to have said in-between, Dean looks like he approves, or that he's not thinking that far ahead. At any rate, Emilia is give a nudge with the harsh stock of his crossbow on her shoulder, along with an order. "Lead."
Novel nods at Isaiah's statement, satisfied, as the answers of how to move people around and get things done is settled. And so he moves to trail after the others. Likely causing some fumbling and creaking and noise on the way down.
Emilia's face hardens as the group decides on the pantry route, her fingers visibly twitching with tension. She stands there for a long moment, staring at Ash, Novel, Kah, Isaiah, and Dean in turn, clearly battling with herself over their decision to sideline the fae women for the grimoire. Finally, she exhales sharply, her expression bitter before turning impassive. "Fine," she mutters, resigned. "Let's just get this done."
The group moves toward the pantry door, careful not to make any noise as they slip inside. Long, jagged shadows flicker under the dim light, creating a maze of obstacles that the team must carefully navigate. Dust lingers in the air, stirred by their movement, and the heavy silence is only broken by the soft creak of floorboards beneath their feet.
At the far end of the room, a malfunctioning security camera swings lazily from side to side, its red light blinking erratically. It sweeps over the narrow entryway, the only direct path leading into the study, but the cameras obvious malfunction makes it unpredictable. Occasionally, it freezes in place before jerking back into motion, the red light flickering dangerously. There's a risk that even the smallest noise or movement could trigger an alarm, or worse, alert guards.
However, as Ash navigates the drone overhead, it becomes clear that there's a bigger problem. A set of wires, barely visible beneath the crates, are tangled and frayed, connecting to what looks like a pressure sensor hidden under the debris. Anyone attempting to move the crates or furniture to clear the path could easily trip the sensor, likely sending a signal straight to the remaining security system, if not triggering something more dangerous.
Ash reminds Isaiah, "The grimoire is in the basement, not the study." They seem worried that Isaiah is going to spend too much time in the study. They hang back, letting the others move first, before tapping on the back of one of the men in front of them, holding up a fist to get the others to stop. From there, they silently point out the traps.
Ash says this before they start moving.
This, upon a second glance, seems way above the paygrade of the physically apt and able and lacking in other manners Dean. He graciously passes the torch to Ash, or anyone else with a more appropriate skillset for tackling this curse.
This, upon a second glance, seems way above the paygrade of the physically apt and able and lacking in other manners Dean. He graciously passes the torch to Ash, or anyone else with a more appropriate skillset for tackling this cursed situation*.
At this, Kah keeps himself toward the rear. "I'm never going to make it through that" he remarks very quietly. He's probably nimble enough to get through it, but his size could be a serious problem, especially with the camera. "I think .. perhaps I should remain here to help ensure our escape. It's that or I take the other path." There's no getting around the man's frame in this instance.
Novel is definitely just about to start squirming through the boxes without thinking too hard and almost physically bowling Ash over before he stops. A confused expression. Then a sort of 'oh' of dawning realization.
".. I'm not sure how we're going to fit Kah in a secret elevator, now that I look at him, if there is one," Isaiah says faintly, looking at the large man that accompanies them again as though they'd forgotten that he is, well, a large man. She glances back towards the stairs, then over to Ash, looking apologetic before sneaking her small self towards the crates. There's a mumble of, "This is Sienna's thing... Not mine.." issued when she gets close, lifting up her bow once again and unleashing yet another one of those barbed arrows straight towards the malfunctioning camera.
Zip
Zrrrt
Quick, efficient, easy, she glances at the high-tech knife she's got, the one that blows back a target with even a faint amount of pressure- that's something she'd learned in her punishment of Novel and instead she takes out her old one with the broken tip. It's got a smooth blade, not serrated like the new one, and she creeps over and saws at what she ultimately deigns to be the most important of the tangle here.
Isaiah's arrow flies true, hitting the malfunctioning camera with a swift zip before the device sputters out, its red light fading into oblivion. The pressure plates, once tangled with wires, fall silent as Isaiah carefully saws through the most crucial connection. With the immediate threats neutralized, the room falls into an eerie calm, allowing the group to breathe a little easier.
Emilia casts Isaiah a begrudging glance, her lips pressing into a tight line as she nods in approval. Without wasting more time, she gestures for the group to move forward, working herself quickly through the cluttered pathway for the study.
[OOC: Going to speed this along. I know we sleepy.]
Ash sends the drone ahead again, taking up the penultimate spot to the rear as they let the most able-bodied people move ahead. They allow someone more perceptive to watch their rear.
Novel is therefore sandwiched in the middle, though nearer to the front, his bowie knife flicking out.
All throughout, Dean had simply waited near-motionless with his back to a wall and in cover. His head put against the wall, and his eyes closed - he definitely looked like was napping in the middle of an operation until Isaiah let loose that arrow and the camera combust. That draws his eyes, his wakefulness, after a while, him as a whole when he rises back up to fall in line with everyone else to continue carrying the warpath to anyone misfortunate enough to roll into them.
Toward the rear with Ash is where Kah finds himself and that's alright with him as he has to gingerly take himself through the space without creating noise. It's doable but it's slow moving for him. Luckily, he should have time to catch up with the rest of the group before they make their way into the study. With a glance toward Isaiah and Dean, and Novel he nods quietly and once again puts himself into a more fully alert state.
The study is a grand yet neglected room, with towering bookshelves crammed with dusty tomes and scrolls that stretch up to the vaulted ceiling. A thick layer of dust coats every surface, from the dark mahogany desk to the faded leather armchairs that sit by a cold, forgotten fireplace. The room smells of old paper and neglect, and the dim light from a single brass lamp casts long shadows across the floor. Emilia steps forward, her fingers tracing the edge of a bookshelf near the far wall. "The elevators behind here," she mutters, pulling at a hidden latch disguised as a book. With a soft click, the bookshelf shifts, revealing a narrow metal door. "This will take us to the basement."
It's going to be a tight squeeze, but the man will try. HOpefully Kah won't be the straw that breaks the elevator's back.
Ash looks at the room with undisguised interest, even some greed. Their fingers move towards some, but pause. Making a face, they leave them behind, looking irritable for the first time since they've started this mission. They move to pile on in with the others, collapsing the drone and sliding it into their bag.
Isaiah breathes out a soft exhale of relief when she does a good thing, rather than fucking up and doing a bad. Her hands are sweating, shaking, like in her mind she was defusing a bomb and trying to decide whether or not to cut the red wire. With that stress-inducing task done, she stows both of her blades- the more traditional one on her right hip- before continuing on into the study. There's something about this that just... Unsettles her. Her flesh bristles as her peach fuzz stands on end, and she murmurs, "Rich guy with a bunch of security and servants.. But it doesn't seem like the place has been dusted in over a decade... Where are the maids?" she asks aside to Dean and, especially, Kah, whose life of servitude might draw him to the same conclusion after her hushed whisper.
Furthermore, when Emilia seems to know exactly where the elevator is, exactly which book to pull, the redhead tenses even more, quietly knocking another arrow into her compound bow, her frosty blue eyes trained on the woman that is alleging to pay them as she mulls something over, not approaching the enclosed space for now. Instead, she leans closer to Novel, and she whispers.
Something catches Kah's eye. Pausing, his head turns almost sharply before he moves off toward another bookshelf. His eyes scan the shelves looking for some sense of trap or trigger. If he thinks it's safe, the tall man will take what's caught his eye and pull it from the shelf to tuck beneath his arm for the time being. His frame may block the view of the object when and if he takes it, it might not but he's willing to take the risk.
Just to keep a clear line of fire, Dean glances at Kah first, then decides he's going to be the shield for this downward ascent. Emilia is skipped over as Dean heads closer first, nods her along to stick close as two peas in a pod with a nudge. His crossbow is still loaded, hefted and prepared with the cruel intent it promises at a single pull of the trigger. Whatever means to open the door, call the elevator, or otherwise advance here with the door - Dean seeks to take it and pave the path ahead- or down, as it were. "Jr, stay in front of Kah in case you need to shoot." He orders, without much thought as to how their guide here knows the way well - he doesn't pry. "Ash, stick behind him." Kah, is, for the moment, a walking cover in his eyes it seems. Novel is left to his own devices, as Novel is ought to do what a Novel does.
Kah says, in a quiet murmur, "What are you hiding?"
Ash nods to Dean, obedient.
Kah returns to the group, nodding toward Dean semi-distracted even though quickly trying to refocus his attentions.
Novel murmurs something right back to Isaiah, his player starting to have issues with focusing as his gaze dances over the rest - his own self lingering near the doorframe, flanking it, and generally providing an eye out and cover before stepping up towards the others with the elevator. "Hm." He remarks. "I mean - that works for me." He murmurs.
The ancient elevator groans under their weight as everyone crams inside, the rusty metal cage rattling ominously as the doors slide shut. The entire structure feels unstable, its cables creaking as the platform shudders to life. Emilia hits the button with a sharp tap, and the elevator lurches downward, moving painfully slow. The dim light overhead flickers, casting shadows across their faces. Emilias eyes dart toward Isaiah, tension clear on her face, as she murmurs, "Once we hit the basement, we grab the Codex and get the hell out. No time for detours."
Suddenly, the shrill and out-of-place tune of Everybody Loves Kung Fu Fighting breaks the silence, piercing the still air. Emilia curses under her breath, fumbling for her phone. Her expression hardens as she checks the message. "One hour before Alarion's back." She looks at the team, her tone grim. "Things just got real."
Ash blinks slowly at this... spy leader, with her fancy ass gadgets, and her spy mecha and her fucking floorplans... and she didn't even silence her damn phone. They suddenly seem uncertain.
Like a coil wrapped up and ready to lunge, expel all that energy, Dean simply stands at the front beside Emilia - heading down, down, and down - and when the phone breaks the veil of silence, Dean casts a look asided at the woman. Her, her phone, and simply smirks at the corner of his mouth before looking back ahead without much care. His crossbow, however, is lowered in preparation to bolt someone through as soon as their eventual arrival happens and they step out.
Isaiah is silent through the entire descent, her glacial eyes trained on someone, her muscles taught, her bow knocked with a barbed arrow, suspicion plain on her face as she regards the 'former' Red Circle Mage. Something about the woman just isn't sitting right with her, and even without their wolfish Pack bond, Dean and Kah would still be able to sense the way her skin prickles, looking for a reason.
Isaiah is silent through the entire descent, her glacial eyes trained on Emilia, her muscles taught, her bow knocked with a barbed arrow, suspicion plain on her face as she regards the 'former' Red Circle Mage. Something about the woman just isn't sitting right with her, and even without their wolfish Pack bond, Dean and Kah would still be able to sense the way her skin prickles, looking for a reason.
Novel flinches as the phone goes off, tightening his hand on his dagger - and then he laughs, suddenly, a short noise that's quickly muffled with a sigh into his shoulder, a smile on his lips.
The shock of the music seems to startle Kah, threatening to rock and rattle the whole elevator until they reach the bottom. He gives a glance around but he's ready to react based on what they see and what they find. He takes a calming breath for himself as they potentially emerge into the basement. His muscles tense and flex subconsciously, neverous as he waits on edge.
The elevator dings softly as the doors creak open, revealing pitch-blackness that feels almost suffocating. A thick, overwhelming stench of rotting flesh and decay hits them immediately, the kind that clings to the back of their throats and makes it hard to breathe. The air is stagnant, heavy with the unmistakable scent of death, and the walls seem to close in as they step out into the cellar. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the faint drip of water echoing somewhere in the distance. Despite the absence of magical creatures, the place feels wrong, as though something terrible once lived here. Instinctively, everyone knows they must stay silent; any noise in this place feels like an invitation to something unseen.
Emilia immediately brings her shirt up over her nose in a desperate attempt to block out the stench from overwhelming her senses, eyes watering over with an almost deeply unsettled look cast around in the poorly lit abyss extending ahead of them. She moves to the side, boot stepping in something that creates a disgusting mooooist squeeeeellllccch that sends shivers down her spine. "Fuck," she hisses out.
Ash moves their knife to Emelia's throat as the dumb bitch *immediately* makes noise. They will only take out the drone to send ahead after they're sure she's learned to *shut the fuck up*.
Novel glances down at his running shoes. Excellent for disguises, not so much for stomping through this.
With a pause in his step again, Kah stops and he taps Isaiah on the shoulder. He points her at something, directing her eye toward a hint of an iron-bound chest that might be easily missed sitting underneath a pile of debris. "What's this" he whispers quietly, before setting Ash down quietly. Then it's a slow creep through the darkness toward the thing.
Seconds before Ash brings that knife to Emilia's throat, Dean shoots them a glare. It's a warning - a bide to wait for time, if anything, but whether they continue through with it or not, Dean steps through the door as well. He's moving in the filth, the blood and viscera like it doesn't bother him all that much. His nose twitches, lacking his heightened senses - even the darkness seems oppressive as it is now, without a proper, predatory glint to pierce through it. It doesn't deter him anyway, and he begins to take slow steps forward with his crossbow leveled forward. "Come on, we've all been to worse places." He presumes of their experience, Dean has certainly /ate/ worse places. Still, he tacks on with another low whisper. "Let's find that grimoire."
Astonishingly, the stench of death doesn't seem to disturb the girl that slept comfortably with two decaying corpses under her bed for weeks before finally moving them out of the trailer. She blinks slowly, then steps out of the elevator heel-toe in her boots, her steps naturally small, but made smaller as she carefully looks through the space. Something about it tries to trigger her fight or flight reflex, but her body chooses fight here, and she casts a look towards Dean, smirking faintly. She doesn't say anything to him, opting to maintain silence for now, but, these two are nothing if not volatile, blood-thirsty maniacs in each other's presence; and also when apart. Any nasty beast that might come slithering out of a dark corner seems already not only expected, but prepared for by Isaiah, separated from her Wolf but still just as maniacal as ever in many ways. She's been bored: sneaking, creeping, ambushing, they're not her style. She's the sort that likes to make a bang. That likes to be seen. Her muscles bunch up as her eyes start seeking some sort of Eldritch horror to annihilate, perhaps forgetting that in this moment she is human.
But then Kah's hand grounds her once more, and she snaps out of that predatory state, hunting the hunter fading to the back of her mind as her attention is drawn towards the chest. "Bingo," is her quiet assumption then.
Retrieving the iron chest as quietly as he can, Kah will bring it back to the group with purpose, in hopes of it either being so old as to open easily or that Emilia can pick it's lock.
Novel makes a "FFFFfffffffffffffffff," noise as he tries very badly not to shout extremely loudly as the man lunges downwards, grasping it for the sides of the jaw as his schoolyard training with alligators and crocodiles comes to the fore as he vaguely hopes it has a hinged jaw he can force open with squeezing while yanking his foot back. Yes, he could stab it, but then it would clamp down on his foot. "goddamit" he mutters more quietly. "Things in the water."
The sharp, hissing noise rises suddenly, almost imperceptible at first, before multiplyingsplitting into a cacophony of high-pitched shrieks that echo through the darkness. Then comes the skittering. The sound of countless legs scurrying over stone, moving too fast, too close. From every shadowed corner, the dark swells with movementhundreds of twisted, foul creatures like the one that attacked Novel. Their pale, unhinged jaws gleam as they dart forward, their bodies writhing as they rush across the ground, gnashing and hissing.
A woman's voice pierces the air, her scream raw and desperate from somewhere deep in the cellar. "Help me! Please, God, help me!" Her cry is quickly followed by more; disembodied voices of other women, begging, sobbing, terror filling every word. It's clear now: the fae women are here, trapped in this hell, likely fed upon by these abominations. Their screams are growing louder, merging with the skittering horror that is rapidly closing in on the group.
Emilias face contorts with panic as she lunges for Novel, her hands gripping his arm tightly. "NOW! Throw the explosives, NOW!" she shouts, her voice barely cutting through the din of the approaching swarm. The creatures are closing in from all directions, eyes glowing faintly in the pitch-black, their forms distorting in the flickering light. The air is thick with their foul stench and the oppressive sense of wrongness.
Every instinct in the group screams that they don't belong here, that whatever these creatures are, this place is a pit of horrors. The cellar feels alive with death, with darkness, and its clear that if they don't act quickly, they'll be overrun.
Novel would find an unlikely ally in that, a near, practically blinded by darkness Dean turns at once with the sound. Dean's hand seeks to clamp on Novel's shoulder to assist in his retreat, pull him back with a yank that isn't forceful at all in the slightest. It should give the man the freedom of action to go wild with his explosives - and Dean's is used up on whatever that sought to assault the templar. "That's not water." Is all that he says while the trigger is pulled and he shoots at whatever tried to catch him. The closer, imminent threat. Whether it has retreated or not, Dean is already loading up another bolt, drawing it back. It's slow, too slow, not like him at all that he has to exert himself to draw the wire back, and it has him hiss out a loud sigh. When he does manage, he's covering retreat, aiming the crossbow towards Kah and whatever may be behind the man that broke line to go for whatever it was that he went for. "Everyone, get back in the elevator!"
There's no sense of stealth about Kah now. He's scooping up that chest and RUNNING. Picking up anyone he can manage or dragging them if need-be. He's not going to stand here to face those things, fae chicks or no fae chicks. He slaps Novel on the back as he tries to passs, encouraging the man to throw that explosive he was interested in bringing. He catches Dean's eye and just calls out "If you see it, shoot it!"
Novel contemplates the rush of creatures. Then, he contemplates the creature in his hand. He adjust his grip on the hinged jaw, feeling thankful this is close enough to a snake and an animal he's familiar with. He pulls out the bomb as Emilia panics, calm as can be, and depresses the idiot button on the device. Then he crams it right into the snake's throat and as Dean's prodigious strength and the panicking woman both drag him back, he hurls the creature in his hand straight back into the familiar mass to it before doing his best to beat feet.
Ash obeys Dean, though it was only meant to be a threat - everyone else started talking anyways, and then there's all this bullshit. Their bare feet squish and slurp in the muck as they take a few steps forward - then a few steps back. They barely manage to get the light on with the drone before everything goes to shit. Fortunately, they're right next to the elevator, and can hope right back in.
Dean flourishes his prodigious strength.
Isaiah seems relieved that she chose the arrows she did now, some small amusement pulling the corners of her mouth into a smirk as a hand reaches back, touching lightly over the fletching she had memorized on the way here. She pulls out her first explosive arrow and aims it right at the center of the largest hoard- or the loudest collection of hissing. It whizzes through the air, screeching with speed as she runs back towards the elevator. "Fuck the Fae bitches, out out out out out!" she calls as the arrow explodes on impact- it is /not/ a sensible explosive to have when working underground. It -is- a sensible explosive to have when you're being hunted by a colony of eldritch horrors. She lets fly a second explosive arrow for good measure once she's back on the elevator with everyone else, letting it rip through the air before the doors close on the Voidlings. Another boom that hopefully knocks the dust off of that collection of furniture in the study, since the maids aren't doing it.
If only it wasn't during a cleanse, things would've been so, so different. Dean swallows the battle-lust, the grind of his teeth nearly heard as he backtracks with the others after shooting a flimsy bolt into the darkness. One swallowed up by Isaiah's and Novel's explosives to little effect. He continues to backtrack with others, with Kah, Novel and the woman they came with, but as soon as he enters the elevator, before their guide does, he leans aside in the act and pretense of loading his crossbow with another bolt. Some hushed whisper disclosed, towards Ash.
As Dean lines up another shot, his crossbow aimed toward the oncoming horde, a grotesque creature lunges from the shadows. Its twisted, mangled mouth unhinges, filled with jagged teeth dripping with a foul stench. His legs are critically exposed, and the creature goes in for the kill, its teeth clamping down hard.
Kah, meanwhile, is struggling with the chest. He doesn't have impressive strength, the weight of the chest is almost unbearable. He feels himself slowing, every muscle burning as he tries to maintain momentum. The horde is gaining ground, fast.
Ash, their feet slipping in muck, suddenly feels a coling, slimy pressure around their ankle. One of the creatures, its spittle sizzling as it drips to the floor, slithers around them with vicious intent. Its grotesque head snaps forward, aiming for their exposed neck, sensing weakness.
someone explosive detonates with a deafening roar, momentarily illuminating the horrific scene ahead. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, the entire group sees what truly lies beyond; the remains of women, gutted, torn apart, and in various stages of being consumed. The flickering light casts grotesque shadows on the carnage, making the horror all too real. Blood-stained mouths hang open, their last screams frozen in death. The horde, undeterred, presses forward, now more ravenous and frenzied than ever as the light from the explosives seem to piss them off royally.
Emilia slams her hand against the elevator controls, desperate. The doors churn open painfully slow, far too slow for the incoming danger. "Hurry!" she screams, the panic rising in her voice. She's already halfway into the elevator, her foot poised to leave the others behind as the horde closes in. She glances back once, her eyes wide with fear, torn between self-preservation and loyalty.
As Dean lines up another shot, his crossbow aimed toward the oncoming horde, a grotesque creature lunges from the shadows. Its twisted, mangled mouth unhinges, filled with jagged teeth dripping with a foul stench. His legs are critically exposed, and the creature goes in for the kill, its teeth clamping down hard.
Kah, meanwhile, is struggling with the chest. He doesn't have impressive strength, the weight of the chest is almost unbearable. He feels himself slowing, every muscle burning as he tries to maintain momentum. The horde is gaining ground, fast.
Ash, their feet slipping in muck, suddenly feels a coling, slimy pressure around their ankle. One of the creatures, its spittle sizzling as it drips to the floor, slithers around them with vicious intent. Its grotesque head snaps forward, aiming for their exposed neck, sensing weakness.
Isaiah's explosive detonates with a deafening roar, momentarily illuminating the horrific scene ahead. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, the entire group sees what truly lies beyond; the remains of women, gutted, torn apart, and in various stages of being consumed. The flickering light casts grotesque shadows on the carnage, making the horror all too real. Blood-stained mouths hang open, their last screams frozen in death. The horde, undeterred, presses forward, now more ravenous and frenzied than ever as the light from the explosives seem to piss them off royally.
Emilia slams her hand against the elevator controls, desperate. The doors churn open painfully slow, far too slow for the incoming danger. "Hurry!" she screams, the panic rising in her voice. She's already halfway into the elevator, her foot poised to leave the others behind as the horde closes in. She glances back once, her eyes wide with fear, torn between self-preservation and loyalty.
The creature still tries to go for the neck, its jaw yawning open with a feral hiss as it attempts to rend its way through Ash's protective gear.
Novel slings his way right into the elevator, literally launching himself into it. Pancake directly into the wall of the elevator! Besides, that way there's more room for people to cram in quickly when they're trying to handle their giantass weapons.
Ash tries to stab the shit out of the creature as they move back, their nodding to Dean put on hold as they grunt, trying to get the fucking thing off of them.
The doors of the elevator begin to slowly teeter closed.....
might not be strong, now, but he is fast. Frighteningly, with stamina to make up for it. Dean twists back from the jaws of the foul beast that tries to capture him with some supernatural reflex and dexterity etched into his bones from raw training. Not something a cleanse can get out of him, and he jams his crossbow into that mouth vertically to keep it stuck and open. One kick, and he sends it into its gullet as far as he can manage; probably not a lot, but enough to lodge it in place. Just like that, he's back in the fray of the elevator lest it takes off without them. Emilia is given a sideway, low glare- and Ash, Dean reaches out to snatch them by the scruff of their neck to yank them in as well alongside him, away from the clutches of what they're fighting. It does pull the creaturee in with them, too - but as it is, they are many and it is one, in that closed space, and surely someone has the strength to wrench it off of Ash. It is a team effort, after all.
Dean might not be strong, now, but he is fast. Frighteningly, with stamina to make up for it. Dean twists back from the jaws of the foul beast that tries to capture him with some supernatural reflex and dexterity etched into his bones from raw training. Not something a cleanse can get out of him, and he jams his crossbow into that mouth vertically to keep it stuck and open. One kick, and he sends it into its gullet as far as he can manage; probably not a lot, but enough to lodge it in place. Just like that, he's back in the fray of the elevator lest it takes off without them. Emilia is given a sideway, low glare- and Ash, Dean reaches out to snatch them by the scruff of their neck to yank them in as well alongside him, away from the clutches of what they're fighting. It does pull the creaturee in with them, too - but as it is, they are many and it is one, in that closed space, and surely someone has the strength to wrench it off of Ash. It is a team effort, after all.
With an outright snarl that comes from Kah, he tries to judge the distance and just huck the chest forward in front of hiim trying to make the elevator or at the very least someone forward of him! Burning muscles and air that begins to come scant in his lungs he forces himself to push forward through the slog. Whatever the case may be, he's not dying over whatever's in that chest. If he misses, he misses! The damp and the nasty have his hair matted and plastered against his face in a gruesome and wretched sight as he continues to barrel for the elevator.
"Fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you," Isaiah says in a singsong voice as she switches temporarily to incendiary rounds with her bow, the shots piercing through multiple bodies at once in a straight line that gives a fainter illumination to the scene, a piercing orange light beaming through the darkness with every shot. She almost seems excited to be here, and eventually, noticing Kah struggle with the chest, slowing down, sweating, she grunts and grabs half of it, relieving him of half, if not most of the weight as she bolts for the elevator, dragging the massive guy along if she has to. Her free hand reaches for that thunderous knife of hers, ready to stab and blast away any creature that dares get close enough to her to try its luck. "Go, go, go, go, go," she urges them all, apparently the strongest of the group as a human, she's more than willing to literally /throw/ anyone she deems isn't going to make it in time before the doors shut. Right now that first victim seems to be Kah's massive self as they lug the chest together. "Inside, inside, inside," she chants, a mantra, a cadence, something to distract from the horrors and keep the minds of her family focused on escaping with their lives rather than succumbing to hopelessness.
If Isaiah picks up the slack, then Kah is happy with that- his tunnel vision is on the effing elevator.
The elevator doors finally slide shut with a wet squelch, severing the heads of two creatures just as they tried to worm their way inside. Thick, black ichor splatters against the door, dripping down in nauseating rivulets.
Inside, the oppressive silence is broken only by Emilias gasping breaths as she collapses back against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. Her trembling fingers slam the up button repeatedly, the dingy light inside flickering as the elevator begins its slow, agonizing ascent.
someone creaking of the ancient cables fills the small space, the sound almost mocking in its sluggish pace.
Until.................
A loud thunk reverberates from below, shaking the entire elevator. The sudden jolt knocks anyone without fast enough reflexes to their knees or against the walls.
The elevator doors finally slide shut with a wet squelch, severing the heads of two creatures just as they tried to worm their way inside. Thick, black ichor splatters against the door, dripping down in nauseating rivulets.
Inside, the oppressive silence is broken only by Emilias gasping breaths as she collapses back against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. Her trembling fingers slam the up button repeatedly, the dingy light inside flickering as the elevator begins its slow, agonizing ascent.
The creaking of the ancient cables fills the small space, the sound almost mocking in its sluggish pace.
Until.................
A loud thunk reverberates from below, shaking the entire elevator. The sudden jolt knocks anyone without fast enough reflexes to their knees or against the walls.
Steadying himself, Kah gives a shuddered breath as his tundral blue eyes blink slowly. The jolt comes and he gives a startled almost yelp of a sound before catching himself. "Praise the Gods" he breathes without a second thought, certain his heartbeat can be heard by everyone in that elevator.
Ash staggers into Emilia, grunting as they 'accidentally' push her back against the wayll.
Not only does Dean greatly fixes his balance through the massive tremors, he also moves in and closer to Isaiah after she has thrown herself along with Kah into the elevator. The dizzying jolt running through is a great distraction, and for now, Dean ignores the sound of ragged breaths, painful or otherwise annoyed sounds in their tight-knit hovel in an attempt to snatch that curious knife from Isaiah. For what purpose, who knows.
Emilia raises her arm to force Ash back against the wall, eyes flashing with rage. But before she can say anything, the doors of the elevator slowly open with a grating churn of rusted mechanics, returning them back to the study. "We need to get the fuck out of here," she mutters to the group, reaching for the only one who matters, Kah with the iron chest, motioning him to pick it up. "Come on, this way. We don't have much time."
Novel is pretty much backed into the corner of the elevator and then basically just falls over on someone almost immediately, hands launching out to slap the person and floor to keep from becoming a bouncy ball.
Despite the other's suspicions, Kah is only interested in getting the hell out of here at this point. He nods at Emilia and he's off with her and the chest without complaint. It's no longer time for subtlety, it's time for speed.
Instinctively Isaiah tears her knife away from Dean when he grabs for it, her eyes wild with predatory fury, but when she realizes who it is that attempts to take the thing, she calms, her breathing slowing down somewhat. It's not a monster- well, it /is/, but it's one of her monsters, so she offers the item to her Alpha, settling it into his palm with a shaky exhale of breath as the elevator shakes and shudders beneath their collection of feet. Still, when Emilia reaches for Kah, the woman bristles all over again, her hands now empty, she fills them with compound bow and another barbed arrow, knocking it, aiming it at her right ear and causing the space to get even more cramped until they disembark into the freedom of the upstairs portions of the home once more. "Not too close, Mage," she warns on a hiss of breath, covered in gore, soot, sweat, and Devil-May-Care.
Novel brushes himself off with a huff - taking and sustaining injuries and then, somehow, surviving, is genuinely his best trait. Somewhat bruised but nevertheless familiar with pain and agony, he bounds his way to the doorway instead of trying to do posturing in a beelining attempt to leave. "Fuck this whole place and fuck those things in the basement," he mutters his internal monologue aloud.
Ash hold out a leg when Emilia starts to flee, moving afterward to try an pin her if they need to. With a field surgeon's anatomical skill, acrobatics that makes their ribs scream with agony, and the detachedness of a faeborn, they work quickly to hamstring her, grab her throat with a strength more than the average person for sure, and stab the knife at her face, cutting her lips with an aim for her tongue. "Novel," They say calmly in their attempt, though through gritted teeth, "Help me out?"
Initially, there is a harsh look at Isaiah at her denial to give the knife to Dean. But while others are slipping into the study, he's simply allowing Isaiah the freedom to knock an arrow and aim. His teeth grind again, and if he was as he was, it'd surely be a paddling-- but beside that, Dean moves soon after Ash does. That speed, the agility, pays off in simply covering the sparse bit of distance with a lax attitude, and walk around the en masse populace - To then twist his usurped blade and attempt to slam it straight into the back of Emilia's skull with the ferocity of someone that doesn't yet realize none of them can path back home, and whatever means of transportation they're going to take, it certainly won't be as fast or as lavish as a private jet because of this.
Ash lets go as Dean takes up Novel's slack, grabbing for the keys from where they watched her stash them as they were leaving before lurching forward, rushing as fast as they can, trying to hold back their scream of agony as they bolt.
In one brutal motion, Dean slams the blade into the back of Emilia's skull. The force of the blow sends a sickening explosion of kinetic energy through the elevator. Brains, blood, and gore splatter everywhere, coating Dean, Ash, and the once-pristine, but old, BUT PRISTINE walls of the elevator in a grotesque display of death. The stench fills the air as Emilia collapses lifeless to the floor. As her body rapidly cools, an alarm in the distance blares, harkening them all back to reality and the rapidly dwindling time. Shit is going to continue to get exponentially harder if they do not LEAVE now.
"God dammit, Dean, our /payment/!!" Isaiah hollers, no need for subtleties anymore now that they've exploded the Hell out of the basement- and Emilia's skull, apparently. What a group of mercenaries. Killing their employer /before/ the money exchanges hands. Well, if nothing else can be said of The Forged Fortune, it's that they at least stick to their fucking guns, and they don't take shit from /anybody/. She flinches her face in as she runs up to her Alpha, bracing for the assured impact of exploding skull when the Hex-Tech force of that knife activates, and she tries to gesture him towards the door gently, not getting too close considering the paddling she'll receive when this Cleanse is over is palpable between them. All over a fancy knife. "Dean," is the only thing she says afterwards, her voice soft and urging all at once as the alarm begins to blare in the distance. "We have to go," murmurs the curly-headed cutie, her freckled features stained by blood, a beautifully grotesque scene upon her cherubic face.
Novel pauses a moment, tears into his pockets, yanks out a clean condom, rips it, shoves it into the bleeding hole in his foot and quickly rips a pick-me-up through a quick snort through the nose before continuing on his way. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck," He mutters as the alarm goes off, his back gradually disappearing back towards the path while the others commit homicide.
Undeterred, uncaring, Dean licks the corner of his mouth of some stray viscera, then wipes the back of his fist and sleeve against his whole mouth- his eyes, clears off just enough gore so he can continue unhindered. While Ash scampers off to find the keys, Dean moves on towards the chest now. Surely some old tome that has survived for so long could survive this too -- but he does make an effort to be gentle. Without his usual mountain of a strength, he shoves the tip of the dagger as carefully as he can to explode just the lock, nothing else. "What payment?" It sounds like he had a singular reason in coming here -- and it was not to get paid. He's here for the grimoire inside the chest Kah and Isaiah so helpfully brought out. "Find a window, we're jumping out and running when I get it." Dean calls over his shoulder anyway. "Fuck taking the long route back around."
[OOC: You guys are absolutely free to pose out so I can get you back. This hot mess of action sounds like a perfect ending.]
Ash doesn't know who Dean is talking to over his shoulder - they already booked it. They knew where the keys were, so there was no scampering. They did their job, and they are going. They don't even explain what Isaiah forgot about their payment - they need ALL their breath for running. They take the keys to the van, sliding in and turning it on, leaving as soon as everyone's in. Once they can get and go, they remind people, "We aren't working for her - we're working for Tyrell and Sienna. So long as we get it back, we're good - she was just our in, remember?" They GPS back to the airport where they were dropped off, so that Tyrell can take them home.