The City of Durem - A GM Thread ♦ WALK-IN/OPEN

[Maximos]

Eternal Dirge

HonoRaven

arrow Shadow Island - Durem City Outskirts

A knight brought his spear back, his fist beside his head and the shaft of gold glittering in the moonlight beside him. An archer with his single arrow already in flight and beginning its transformation into one shot barrage, brought his hand back and drew another shaft from an intangible quiver and set it to the bowstring. Far off to the eastern corner of the grave, a figure sat on a rock. It wore a black hat with two dangling horns like a jester. Its face was quite literally a mask with a theater frown painted on it. This figure took up a flute which was pressed to a rectangular slit in the mask and waited for his exact right moment to begin playing. On the opposite side of the grave, a shade which was easily the size of a bear took up a gigantic two handed axe with a head the length of an average person and nearly a foot wide. He heft the weapon in quickening orbits around himself, building thunderous momentum. The black outline of a certain elf, nodded to the cloaked figure of another man. The two broke into a run, moving to opposite ends of the arena than each other. The elf drew up a crossbow. The man in the cloak with the wolf head shoulder piece drew a long jagged blade stained with some sort of black ichor. Both prepared for bloody work.

This place for the dead was alive with the thrum of battle. And through it all, Cypher moved. Solid stone and debris were crushed beneath his powerful feet. Each foot fall dug a small trench in the damp sandy turf. Cypher was less than a blur. He was the wind. Free, fast, and vicious. Before the network of arcane workings which held this trap together could reassess his position Cypher had rushed headlong into the fray, placing himself between Raven and a set of arrows. It was not until Cypher had actually stopped moving that the dust and debris that detailed his dash was kicked up and drew a phantom line to his location. By then, he had already set about his expert work. His double ended blade moving in smooth arcs, drawing vicious lines across the sky, singing as it sliced the air in a way it had not done in centuries. What was once a deadly assault, was now a series of broken arrows like twigs discarded on the ground and one figure at its center.

In his stillness he would be able to make out the finer details that had previous escaped him. While there were easily dozens of exhibits around this grave, literally only twelve were beginning to move or had already moved. At the moment Cypher was sitting at the center of the magical array, faint lines still drew outward, evenly, in all directions, each indicating a point where a phantom was either already positioned or was beginning to take form. Each perfectly evenly spaced from each other. There was a meaning here, but before the elf was allowed to find it - the battle continued. With a loud whoob, the axe wielding giant took to the air. He heft his enormous weapon upwards, and then brought it over his head and began slamming downward. The crash meant to perform something between a smash and a cleave of the firstborn elf. The Jester began playing a tune. A thing who's rhythm did not reach the ears first, instead what seemed to strike an individual before the sound was a feeling. A churning sort of feeling in the gut, that would grow and spread into the sort of semi-sick mental haze that strikes a person when they first escape a dream. It was negligible at first but would over soon be a very disorienting feeling of vertigo inflicted by the musical notes. As if a smashing axe and a sickening tune were not enough, the bow man - his arrows defeated - aimed his weapon upwards and fired a single shot upwards. It went without saying that before the arrow struck the ground it would be a full-on salvo. And all of this while the knight with the golden spears waited for Cypher to move before he attempted to send one of his weapons flying forward like a javelin.

Meanwhile, Raven summoned forth a weapon made of steel and light and brought it up to meet the blackened Maximos' blade. The two weapons crashed into each other, hissing and protesting the action violently. At their meeting point, sparks jolted forth. White light bit into the black stuff of the Shadow's sword while it darkness attempted to creep hungrily over Raven's blade. The two weapons only kissed for a moment before the Shadow acted. He drug his sword back violently, keeping enough pressure to test Raven's defense while his left hand reached forward. The monocle was a memory, but the pocketwatch was a key. And he would reach for it, his ethereal hand aiming to steal it away from Raven. And at the same time, he would thrust his sword forward meaning to pierce her with a ferocious stab.

[Eternal Dirge]

Maximos

HonoRaven

arrow Shadow Island - Durem City Outskirts

Walters grave was the epicenter of chaos.

Across the length and breadth of the space the memories of the dead rose up as if in denial at the sacrilege of the living, their rebirths having been marked in much the same way as their physical forms been born. Here they made war upon the intruders with the tools that had made them famous and survived long past when all memory of them should have been lost to time as their bodies were rendered to dust. Had they the ability they might have railed against this injustice, this bound servitude to protect and defend the grave of a man they did not know, torn from the cold comfort of oblivion, but they did not. Instead they hunted and sought to return this place to the dead in the quickest and most brutal fashion possible, by killing Cypher and Raven.

But Cypher had no intention of dying.

The Elf took a great many things as fact in his life and all of them seemed to come to a point here in this place of destruction and living memory. There was no flash of insight or moment of self reflection because there was simply no time for it, even as the wind continued to blow mournfully through gaps between rocks, or as the sun beat down lazily from above. They simply existed as immutable facts of life and existence around the grey skinned warrior as he stood frozen in the shadow of a Ursine warrior who sought only to end him. Power threaded outwards from his mind like the lines of shadow that connected the warriors hunting him but there the similarities ended. If viewed in the proper way it would be a wisp of green light that connected him like a tether to the crossbow he had dropped earlier, seeming to forget the weapon. Viewed another way it was a series of words in a language few on this world spoke. They were not words of Power as a priest of wizard might understand, but they told of a colossal will that forced into them untold amounts of strength. They said,

" I am Cypher, and there is nothing I cannot do."

Even as it's master stood in place like the last defiant tree after a flash flood, the crossbow shifted and groaned on subsonic waves that defied human ears. Green tendrils of new growth pushed the stock of the weapon into the dirt as the business end of the weapon pushed up on the tripod like growths, each new limb moving to bring it about to a new bearing seemingly on it's own. Raven might believe she was no match for the Shadow she faced, but Cypher had nothing but contempt for the multitude of shadows that sought to bring him down. He was the 13th Son of Lilara, last of the Evergreen Knights, Slayer of Iron Knights and hunter-killer of their fell master Fleeb. The dust of every continent of Aria had stained his boots at one time or another and he had out-thought or out-fought some of the greatest minds of that place, coming out triumphant if battered every time. These were fact as true as the sky above was blue. His denial of impending death and destruction came as a low growl that quickly became the roar of an alpha predator, masking the twang of bowstring as a bolt fitted itself and flew from the seemingly sentient weapon he had cast aside.

All of this happened in the time it took the knight to draw for his cast, the archer to pull and knock and release his deadly rain into the sky and the hulking berserker to begin the drop of his axe that would take Cypher from this world. His roar was directed upwards towards the growing green stars and the hulking shadow, the breath required stretching his chest and bursting seams on his shirt as they fought and lost to contain his growing mass. The roar covered the sign of his own sneak attack as the bolt raced through the air towards the Jester and his sickening flute. The roar covered his own weakness as his stomach sought to rebel and his legs threatened to wobble out from under him as they would a man fresh from the sea, a slight push setting him to pivot to avoid the descending axe, back in the direction he had come. Conscious thought descended back into seeming instinct in a sudden rush, and the crossbow was again forgotten where it lay.

Cypher himself would appear as a maelstrom after his sudden inactivity, his pivot bringing him around inside the shadow of the giant and the harsh clang as his brought the lower end of his staff blades around to strike at the hands of the Memory Form. If he even realised he would likely die here he did not show it. Instead his lips had curled into a snarl of effort rather than rage and hatred. What passed for a heart beat sluggish and slow in his chest it seemed to him in the frantic motion of the fight. And all the while the bolt from his crossbow sped across the distance to the Jester-Memory, but not for it. Instead, though it would be hard to tell, it was aimed slightly forward of the things head in a pass that would bring it through the point where its hands were on target for them and the flute that it held. One problem at a time, after all.

[HonoRaven]

Maximos

Eternal Dirge

arrow Shadow Island - Durem City Outskirts

The blade Dante had given her held up… truth to tell, she had never tested it in combat before… although sparks flew, and she could feel the light being pushed back by shadows as the two blades met.

Perhaps the next time she met Ryugi, she would see if she couldn’t “borrow” a bit more of his power… she had seen the things the dragon could do, and some of them looked like a lot more fun than crafting daggers or weaving light with shadow into touchable illusions.

All her magics were either small time, or really bloody hard to control… and that was annoying.. very bloody annoying.

There was a sound behind her, something that tried to twist her insides and made her eyes start to water, and twined into that sound… almost drowning it out completely… was a roar of furry. Cypher, most likely.

The shade in front of her pulled his sword back against hers, as if that shadow wrought blade was supposed to have a serrated edge to saw her own short sword right in half. Knowing her luck, Dante was going to chew her out when she brought him this blade to be sharpened.

The shade was testing her strength… the black blade pushing down on her… indiscriminating bloody trap.

The shade reached for her.. no, it reached for the watch!

With a grin that flashed fangs Rae’s right hand twisted, the fire and lightning etched edge of her shadow fan slicing up towards that reaching hand… one did not simply pick a pick-pockets’ pocket and expect to get away with their fingers still intact!

It tried to impale her again, testing her speed. The Shade had gone from being Maxi, to simply being and ‘it’. It was the only way she could fight it, the only way she could keep from doubting… doubting so very many things.

Her sword jabbed in towards the Shade, along his own thrusting blade, her wrist twisting in tight circles, trying to twine around the shadow blade. A fencing move, meant to disarm an opponent. The guard on her blade was wrong for it, but risking her fingers was better than being stabbed, and at least this way she could deflect the shadow blade even if the Shade managed to hold onto it.

[Paidi tou Selini]

Antique Queen

arrow Downtown > A Random Coffee Shop

Kalyna gave a thoughtful "Hmm..." at the explanation. The one pile had been obvious, but it was a curious distinction between the other two. Normally she figured there should have been a fourth. Durem was a big place, after all. Curiosity pressed and it was only the arrival of the waitress that stopped her. Even distracted, however, observational habits took hold.

"Congratulations on your engagement." she commented with that well-practiced smile and kind tone.

"O-oh, yes," the young server looked down at her tiny engagement band and blushed, clearly not yet used to such comments, "Thank you. Do I...?"

"We'll take good care of you here, never you worry. Now bring me something with as much chocolate as can be."

"Of course~ would you...?" but Kalyna's attention was already back to the papers, reaching resolutely for the right stack. She leafed through them much slower than she normally might just to be polite, but it didn't hurt that the extra time gave her time to process the little list of questions filtering through her mind. It also didn't hurt that she too happened to be looking for a place, and she at least had never heard of such a thing as 'too many rooms'.

"What kind of budget do you have to work wi-ooo, I like this one..." And before long two and a half stacks of her own were beginning to form. Once she entered this mood her perfect composure began to fade into simple habits, and her penchant for thinking (and discussing) on multiple topics at once was starting to show, "..and when were you hoping to move by?"

------------------------------------------TIMEWARP-AGAIN-(AGAIN)------------------------------------------

[Outskirts of Durem - Carter Repair Services]

#RealDurem

-lol check it, ttly a deal goin behind me. sumthin bout suit & implants. Durem underground gettin srs

And a picture. Rosy lips curled into a smile and the slick sportsbike roared to life. Ah, tourists. So wonderful. Adorably naïve and great for the... circulation of goods. Such a helpful economic boost should not be squandered. The young femme fatale rode off through the streets as thick goggles flashed streams of information from behind the darkened lenses. A ponytail of long, raven black hair clung to the chic leather jacket from the rush of air around her, made all the more smooth by sleek black riding helmet and dark full-body skinsuit ending in sturdy knee-high leather boots. The dark ensemble atop the black motorcycle may not have been the most inconspicuous during the day, but it was certainly anonymous, with no distinguishing features besides the hair and lips/chin, which was easily solved by the long black scarf that clung tightly to her neck.

Guided by hacked digital feeds, it didn't take her long to find it. The old pickup had barely even gotten two blocks down by the time she pulled up beside, nestling herself in a blind spot. A quick check confirmed that the driver was indeed the man from the pictures. What juicy secrets was he porting, she wondered. Nobody would go to these lengths of layered "common looks" subtlety if it wasn't something good, and that was all she needed to have a little fun. Of course, any good thief knew the limits of stealth, so to keep her cover she quickly set a bug onto the truck as they stopped at the next light. One of her favorites, the tiny mechanical spider crawled into the wheelwell and stayed put while its master, filled with triumph already, made a little show as she pulled up next to the truck at the stop and blew a kiss before making a casual right turn and driving away.

A few hours later she found herself staring assessingly at a beaten down repair shop, long since closed. She couldn't help but marvel at how beautifully cliche this all was. It had been months, at least, since she'd managed to find such a storybook heist, and the thought made her giddy enough to abandon many of the cautions she usually took. Some cautions she would have to abandon anyway, considering the circumstances. This was a drop-off, after all. She had the barest minimum time to get in, take the goods, and get out. By all logic she really shouldn't even be trying. The place was poorly secured, but it was small enough that the one occupant could effectively watch over it without the need for security. But logic did some funny things when golden geese were presented to the picture. And her's came in the form of a shower.

Immediately she was on the move. A simple command sent her spider from its cozy filming position on the ceiling to the door. With the tensile strength of a properly designed machine, it dug into the wood and used its actuator-prong to unlock the deadbolt, then with the precision of a properly designed machine proceeded to unlock any extra measures the door had. No elaborate break-in or wide-scale security sweep required. Kalyna simply walked up the stairs, light and unshifting as a cat to prevent squeaking, sprayed some WD40 into the hinges for the same purpose, and strolled right in like she owned the place. The video feed from the nanobot had already informed her that all the goods were on one place, so she didn't even have to hesitate and scope out the building. It was straight to the bedroom for her. In and out before anyone had time to notice.

Or at least, that had been the plan... but wow was that trunk heavy. There was no way she would be able to carry it out and drive away without getting caught. The simple answer was to cut her losses and get out with the suitcase, but... there was tech in that trunk. Expensive tech. And if she could just get it open and examine the tech she might be able to replicate it herself. The temptation was too great. Higher the risk, higher the rewards.

With a flick of the wrist, she had her multitool in hand. The first step was to test for chemical residues that would give her a good indication on whether or not the trunk was trapped. A simple cotton swab into the locks took care of that. When the tests came up clean, unlocking was the simplest of matters. Funny thing about deadbolt locks. They really didn't keep criminals out. They just kept honest folk honest. With another flick the bump key was out of its compartment, tumblers were tumblin', and the trunk was swinging open. What she found truly brought a sparkle to her eyes, both figuratively and literally as the scanning program was activated within her goggles and flittering away with all manner of processing and recording while she reached in and began pulling pieces out. Armor... and she was very very right about the expensive and fancy part. This thing was truly a marvel. Some assembly required, making the examination a bit harder, but all-in-all some fascinating tech. She was already excitedly mulling over how she might try to improve the design and forgetting entirely about the other occupant of the building.

Psychofish

[Sins of an Angel]

arrow Merchant's District - Bazaaar

Durem's summers were fortunately mild, and bearable, but they certainly weren't the balmy and yet comforting summers of home. They hadn't been for years now and she'd already come to terms with it, but all the same - Rai often liked to reflect on things that would ordinarily drive a person mad. Especially when dealing with other serious issues concurrently.

Yet for some stupid reason, it did give her an outlet or means of escape when whatever burdens she faced were far more stressful than the longings of home or other things she previously had.

This was one of those situations and that burden happened to be Lilith and her cabal.

On a larger scale, they dealt in the trade, the import and exporting of rare occult artifacts. They were known for obtaining items of significant value to the supernatural community, both monetary and metaphysical. Obviously Lillith had her own personal agendas, which was where Damnatus and herself seemed to fit in it seemed, but that fact still puzzled her. It should have been obvious, as should have been her reasons for even coming to Durem (beyond the interest in herself). While Raien enjoyed a good mystery, she preferred them in paperback format these days. Several years ago, this might have been much more exciting...


The bazaar was a seasonal event, something that graced the city's largest district only during the two major summer months, but it was no small affair. Some of the larger through-ways and roads were closed to everything except foot traffic and sometimes even walking through was a physical challenge all its own. Before you can approach the actual event, white tents stood tall enough that they could be seen for almost a full mile out and if it weren't for the roped off area, they could have easily spilled out into the surrounding streets and overcome the various other businesses located within the district.

As it were, the bazaar was limited to a two block radius where one could easily find anything, from souveneirs, to fashion and home furnishings. Besides the tents themselves, the streets of the district were alive with color, and sounds, from merchants to the mass of bodies milling around. Rai was not absolutely sure of what she hoped to accomplish by venturing out, but if nothing else, a trip outside of her apartment was always healthy and a nice change of pace. Still, she would certainly keep her eyes open for anything important or noteworthy. Confrontation was not the objective here, but a little reconnaissance never hurt anyone.

Hopefully...

Paidi tou Selini

[Damnatus]

arrow PIME TARADOX - Abandoned Fishing Warehouse, Outskirts of Durem

Today was not a good day for Zhekell.

Now, a 'good day' was a subjective thing, given the opinions of the masses, but the grave knight found it hard to put a bright light upon the misery being heaped upon his a**. As a businessman, he was entirely used to having to juggle numerous problems all at once, ranging from supply/demand issues, contractual disagreements, and having to cut the heads of employees who ******** up one too many times. Yes, Zhekell could be a very busy man, and in fact, he preferred to be as such. Idle hands and all of that idiomatic nonsense, yes, yes. While he was quite literally dead, he felt very much alive, per-se, by keeping himself occupied in such endeavors.

But the kind of trouble that red-headed whore put him in was making him strongly wish that he belonged to the garden variety, six feet under dead, and not of the undead.

It had all started by a simple visitation. Zhekell had always appreciated a looker, and that woman was a looker. Yet, it wasn't the kind that set his predatory edge aflame; no, there had been something about her that got his hackles up. The sense his kind got when faced by another predator, and one that very well could be higher up the food chain than himself. While her simple-yet-elegant red dress hadn't screamed 'mage' to the grave knight, he hadn't built his quaint little empire without knowing a spellslinger when he saw one - and hell, he had a bad feeling about that one. Like, old boss-bad. Still, no one ******** around with Zhekell, and when she had presented him with an arrangement that, through carefully-crafted wordplay and insinuations, would have him on the end of a leash, he told her to right off ******** herself. If Zhekell had known she was no one to directly piss off, he'd have done more than send her on her merry way.

And with that encounter, a mound of s**t had been heaped at his front door, and it just kept piling right on up.

A missed shipment was annoying, but nothing to worry about. A half dozen of them was bad, really bad. Then word got around that his crew had been stirring up messes all across Durem, causing rather unpleasant incidents with the gooks in Chinatown and the ghouls in the underworld. Literally overnight, Zhekell's quiet-but-profitable operation was starting to cause the Powers That Be to start turning their gaze in his direction. He did not like attention, and that was the worst kind of attention he could ever regret having.

It was why he was hanging out in this Goddamned warehouse. Zhekell didn't make it a habit of sleeping in the places he s**t, but there were too many eyes on his various lodgings and offices in the ritzier locales of Durem. He had to keep low while working out this gigantic mess, so shacking up in the side-office of this warehouse had been a necessity. His boys had cleaned it up well enough and moved solid furniture in, and he'd even gotten Gem to resume her work in the small front-area in the structure ahead of the office. She didn't like playing receptionist, especially in this dump, but thems were the digs of being a bodyguard. Needless to say, she continued to prove her worth when the warlock came a knockin'.

The smug b*****d had literally waltzed right up to the warehouse. His initial line of defense hadn't even slowed him down - Zhekell hadn't been sure they'd even seen him - but Gem was no newbie. She had caught his scent immediately and pounced right on him. He hadn't fought back, though, and had brought up some choice subjects that had stopped her from tearing his throat out. When she had brought that info back to Zhekell, he didn't admonish her for it - in fact, he told her to send the guy in. The name 'Lilith De Mulvaise' meant a whole lot to him nowadays, especially when it was referred to in a none-too-positive way.

It had been an...interesting meeting, to say the least. The warlock, who called himself Karos, looked like a Goddamned bum had found himself some old threads that had been thrown away due to disinterest, not damage, and had dressed himself up in them for an interview. The blonde man had thrown on a brown blazer with patched elbows, a cream buttoned-up shirt that was unbuttoned a third of the way up, grey slacks and sneakers. Guess he struck out, there. In contrast, Zhekell's jet black hair was gelled, slicked back in the way that was both messy and nice at the same time. No facial hair - couldn't grow it anymore, after all - marred his stern, angular features. Blue eyes glared past the hawkish nose, not necessarily pissed at the warlock for wasting his time - he hadn't - but just over the nature of this situation, regardless.

"So, friend," he affirmed in a blunt tone, drumming his fingers impatiently against his thigh from his seated position, "you are telling me you can help me take care of the red menace." Karos, thumbs hooked onto the edges of his pants pockets, nodded solemnly, in complete opposition to the cocksure attitude that radiated from him. "Interesting approximation, but ********. That bird is bad news for everyone, and seeing that you've got a taste of that nastiness, I have a hunch that you and I can make things unfortunate for her."

This obviously set up a detailed explanation, and it was one Zhekell was surprisingly going to hear out. If it was a waste of time, one word and Gem would put a slug of lead straight through his skull and be done with it. If not...well, the grave knight had never been one to let bygones be bygones.

[Psychofish]

[Outskirts of Durem - Carter Repair Services]
[Diemos - Scene I]

Elsewhere in the little apartment, the water turned off, halting the shrill whine through the pipes. He felt good. Better. In control. He just had to breath steady and keep his head and he'd come out on top of anything. Letting the water drip off him, the man beat himself dry with a towel that wasn't near as fluffy and absorbent as a guy like Rayner really should have been able to afford, but it was plenty serviceable enough to let him get dressed, pulling his pants up around his waist and dropping the towel over his shoulder to let his hair drip onto.

Half dressed and relaxed, the security enforcer sauntered into the bedroom.

Benito almost stepped full into the room before he froze, staring for a moment in disbelief at the figure crouched over the open trunk, contents laid out around her.

His weight came down as he started forward again suddenly, causing the floor to creak audibly if she had failed to pick up on his presence yet, though in the small quarters it was hardly any warning. With the advantage of elevation working in his favor, Benni dove right into the smaller woman, weight of the tall Italian man hitting her as he grabbed at her wrist and elbow, looking to drag her down between the grip and weight, before twisting her wrist up behind her back. Brain spinning, he did what his body had been trained into- takedowns and securing the threat.

From there things would only get worse if she didn't get out of the way and start off the process making it difficult for him, as he'd be not shy at all about straddling her hips and using all two-hundred-and-someodd of his pounds to hold her down while he tried to yank her arms up into handcuffing position long enough to lean hard to one side- grasping after a stash of zipties he'd left atop a short bedside bookshelf.

Paidi tou Selini

[Sins of an Angel]

arrow PIME TARADOX - Abandoned Fishing Warehouse, Outskirts of Durem

Poor Zhekell.

If he thought his day was arduous and unpleasant right now, surely he must think not another thing could possibly disrupt it any further, or cause him anymore misery.

Unfortunately, that wasn't quite in the cards for the grave knight currently.

Raien was not one to let such a major discovery like the one she had stumbled upon a day prior, go without further investigation. Even if it meant a brief chat with an old friend who was sure to be delighted by her visit. The very notion that Zhekell was potentially working in cooperation with Lilith made her stomach turn. His former working relationship with the necromancer, Mia, had been bad enough and the source behind many of the troubles she still wrestled with to date. Collaboration with Lilith would no doubt lead to worse things, for all parties involved. For as much as she honestly disliked the grave knight, Raien wouldn't subject even him to the whims of the sorceress in question. No, she wasn't that cold, not even to him.

However, he did piss her right the hell off so she expected nothing but spit and vinegar upon walking in the door.

The sight of the shoddy old warehouse was certainly unexpected, considering the state of disrepair the outside appeared to be in, but leave it to Zhekell to make something out of nothing, in spite of his usually lavish tastes. She assumed he had his reasons to be holed up out here, rather than his own private estate or some other office, something protected by a gated entry and higher end security. That didn't mean this place wouldn't be just as guarded. She was expecting some decent opposition towards intruders, but while Raien was sure she was the last person Zhekell would care to see, outside of Damnatus maybe (but then a visit from him was never highly anticipated), it was still unlikely she would be 'shot on sight' but rather - discouraged from entering the compound.

Gem, as she was appropriately called, lived up to her namesake. All it took was a strongly worded conversation and maybe a little pressure applied on both physical and metaphysical platforms before convincing the woman to see her in.

Her escort didn't bother to hide or hold back any of her displeasure for the mage, and especially not once they entered the actual warehouse where her boss was currently entertaining another guest.

"Sorry to interrupt, but the foreign b***h is here. She insisted she see you." If by insist, Gem meant forced her way past security, then that statement was accurate.

Raien managed a hollow smile over Gem's introduction, every bit insincere as it seemed, and bit back any sharp remarks in favor of changing her subject of focus. She left Gem's side to take a step further into the room, still wearing an obviously-falsified smile. "She's certainly a peach that one. New recruit to the cause? You always had a good eye for hired help."

A quick scan of the room didn't yield much. All signs pointed to the warehouse being just a simple as it seemed. Rai didn't particularly care what her old friend was up to, or what kind of business he ran. That was between him and his own moral compass, but if he was legitimately working with Lilith, then she took issue. Zhekell's guest however, took her by surprise. She gaped at the blonde-haired, green-eyed warlock she knew as Karos with a hyrbid of confusion and pure shock.

"What are you doing here?!"

Damnatus

Today was not a good day for Zhekell.

Now, a 'good day' was a subjective thing, given the opinions of the masses, but the grave knight found it hard to put a bright light upon the misery being heaped upon his a**. As a businessman, he was entirely used to having to juggle numerous problems all at once, ranging from supply/demand issues, contractual disagreements, and having to cut the heads of employees who ******** up one too many times. Yes, Zhekell could be a very busy man, and in fact, he preferred to be as such. Idle hands and all of that idiomatic nonsense, yes, yes. While he was quite literally dead, he felt very much alive, per-se, by keeping himself occupied in such endeavors.

But the kind of trouble that red-headed whore put him in was making him strongly wish that he belonged to the garden variety, six feet under dead, and not of the undead.

It had all started by a simple visitation. Zhekell had always appreciated a looker, and that woman was a looker. Yet, it wasn't the kind that set his predatory edge aflame; no, there had been something about her that got his hackles up. The sense his kind got when faced by another predator, and one that very well could be higher up the food chain than himself. While her simple-yet-elegant red dress hadn't screamed 'mage' to the grave knight, he hadn't built his quaint little empire without knowing a spellslinger when he saw one - and hell, he had a bad feeling about that one. Like, old boss-bad. Still, no one ******** around with Zhekell, and when she had presented him with an arrangement that, through carefully-crafted wordplay and insinuations, would have him on the end of a leash, he told her to right off ******** herself. If Zhekell had known she was no one to directly piss off, he'd have done more than send her on her merry way.

And with that encounter, a mound of s**t had been heaped at his front door, and it just kept piling right on up.

A missed shipment was annoying, but nothing to worry about. A half dozen of them was bad, really bad. Then word got around that his crew had been stirring up messes all across Durem, causing rather unpleasant incidents with the gooks in Chinatown and the ghouls in the underworld. Literally overnight, Zhekell's quiet-but-profitable operation was starting to cause the Powers That Be to start turning their gaze in his direction. He did not like attention, and that was the worst kind of attention he could ever regret having.

It was why he was hanging out in this Goddamned warehouse. Zhekell didn't make it a habit of sleeping in the places he s**t, but there were too many eyes on his various lodgings and offices in the ritzier locales of Durem. He had to keep low while working out this gigantic mess, so shacking up in the side-office of this warehouse had been a necessity. His boys had cleaned it up well enough and moved solid furniture in, and he'd even gotten Gem to resume her work in the small front-area in the structure ahead of the office. She didn't like playing receptionist, especially in this dump, but thems were the digs of being a bodyguard. Needless to say, she continued to prove her worth when the warlock came a knockin'.

The smug b*****d had literally waltzed right up to the warehouse. His initial line of defense hadn't even slowed him down - Zhekell hadn't been sure they'd even seen him - but Gem was no newbie. She had caught his scent immediately and pounced right on him. He hadn't fought back, though, and had brought up some choice subjects that had stopped her from tearing his throat out. When she had brought that info back to Zhekell, he didn't admonish her for it - in fact, he told her to send the guy in. The name 'Lilith De Mulvaise' meant a whole lot to him nowadays, especially when it was referred to in a none-too-positive way.

It had been an...interesting meeting, to say the least. The warlock, who called himself Karos, looked like a Goddamned bum had found himself some old threads that had been thrown away due to disinterest, not damage, and had dressed himself up in them for an interview. The blonde man had thrown on a brown blazer with patched elbows, a cream buttoned-up shirt that was unbuttoned a third of the way up, grey slacks and sneakers. Guess he struck out, there. In contrast, Zhekell's jet black hair was gelled, slicked back in the way that was both messy and nice at the same time. No facial hair - couldn't grow it anymore, after all - marred his stern, angular features. Blue eyes glared past the hawkish nose, not necessarily pissed at the warlock for wasting his time - he hadn't - but just over the nature of this situation, regardless.

"So, friend," he affirmed in a blunt tone, drumming his fingers impatiently against his thigh from his seated position, "you are telling me you can help me take care of the red menace." Karos, thumbs hooked onto the edges of his pants pockets, nodded solemnly, in complete opposition to the cocksure attitude that radiated from him. "Interesting approximation, but ********. That bird is bad news for everyone, and seeing that you've got a taste of that nastiness, I have a hunch that you and I can make things unfortunate for her."

This obviously set up a detailed explanation, and it was one Zhekell was surprisingly going to hear out. If it was a waste of time, one word and Gem would put a slug of lead straight through his skull and be done with it. If not...well, the grave knight had never been one to let bygones be bygones.

[Abyssal Majesty]

arrow Downtown > A Random Coffee Shop

The scholar stayed quiet during Kalyna's interaction with the waitress, she didn't want to interrupt anything. However she took to heart the woman's 'get-to-it-iveness', it was something she could respect. While Evelynn was somewhat of a business woman, she never dismissed people as such, but she wouldn't bring it up if other people did either. When the waitress looked to her with a slightly bewildered expression, Evey merely smiled and waved her hand, she didn't want anything else.

"Whenever, really. I carry around my travel luggage in hopes of moving in today, else I simply tuck away in a hotel for the evening. As for the budget, it's of no concern. I'm confident that I can afford whatever is picked."

Her tone held no evidence of boasting or condescending tone while she spoke of her wealth. Letting out an easy sigh, she rested her elbow on the table, and her chin in her palm. A soft, patient smile still remained on her lips. Her blue eyes stayed steady on her potential friend.

"Which did you like?"

Paidi tou Selini

[Paidi tou Selini]

Psychofish

[Outskirts of Durem - Carter Repair Services]

click

Well that was an odd sound. The little cat burglaress froze as well, hidden eyes narrowing as she processed what was going horribly wrong and why.

Oh, right... "Heywai- unnff!"

Even in close quarters she expected guns and threats; maybe even an attempt to hit her with something long and hard. What she didn't expect was a full-on tackle, and in this space she didn't have nearly enough time to react. Caught with her pants down by a man with his shirt off... since when was her perfect storybook supposed to become a porno? Strategy raced rapidly through her mind as she found herself knocked to the ground and man-handled, a delicate doll lain squished and pliant. She could have fought back. The temporary strength boost granted by her skin suit would give her the element of surprise, at least. But already at a firm disadvantage, the most generous outcome was merely even footing. From there he was bigger, stronger, and moving her farther away from her multitool than she cared for. No, conflicts were won by playing to strengths, not contesting enemy strengths. She would let him have his way for now, and strike when she could make best use of her surprises.

"Woa-hey, tiger. Aren't you gonna at least buy me a drink first?" she commented between broken gasps of slightly exaggerated pain as she found herself mounted and arms easily twisted behind her back; an experience that was far less uncomfortable than she would let him believe considering her natural double-jointed flexibility and contortionist training. She made no attempt to fight back, instead working her squirms into adjusting her slim shoulders to full view from beneath the slipping jacket and making sure her rear rubbed up against the right places, trying to appear both as sexy and pitiful as possible. Seduction was absolutely a tool at her disposal; not making use of it would be silly. "P-please don't... nnh... hurt me. I thought this place was abandoned, I swear!"

In the meantime the signal went out. The spider, already nearby, began to make its way back to the ceiling and across the flat, sticking to grooves and light fixtures. She was in no rush, so stealth was more important than speed. In the event that speed was necessary, two compartments had already opened on her bike, releasing six little dragonfly drones that immediately began zipping towards the building for support. The Creator was in trouble, and there were plenty to answer her call.

[Pump Action Phoenix]

arrow The Opal Apartment Buildings

Paidi tou Selini

Barbaric was a good word for it.

"Chummer?" That was a new one on him though. Behind shatter-resistant plastic, he rolled his eyes. Kids and their slang. The warrior was free to finish his prep without her witty and annoying repartee at least. He let the automatic shotgun swing lazily from his shoulder while feeding his dragon a heavy, low capacity magazine. Five rounds would suit his needs. He worked the pump back, forward, and then let Ignispiro dangle from the other shoulder. Twenty three millimeter bore meant projecting more lead downrange with a single squeeze than two Kalashnikovs could manage with a magazine each. Of course, his magazines weren't loaded with lead. They carried a more potent load.

He exhaled hard, making sure the mask was airtight before performing a quick equipment check. Patting down his magazines, munitions and weapons to make sure he had everything secured in its proper place. One hand slipped under the barrel of his assault shotgun and the other slipped four digits around the grip and one teasing the trigger. When he stalked back out into the hall, the guard looking his way had enough time to form an imperfect circle with his lips before thunder shattered the world around. With just a couple pounds of force applied the hammer dropped. Ten round burst, five bodies. The men guarding the door fell like lumber, unable to lift a finger in their own defense as specially designed slugs tethered together with wire tore mortal wounds into their frail, frail bodies. Four were dead before greeting the ground and the fifth was finished off by a weighty boot on the back of the neck. The soldier didn't even pause in his stride to specifically target the wounded. It was methodical violence, rehearsed a hundred times over in both reality and simulation.

He took a deep breath and then applied a bloody bootprint to his target's door. The deadbolt stuck but the wood splintered, leaving the lock and knob clinging confused to the wall while the rest of the tinder swung inwards. Internally, he prayed that his new, temporary ally was doing her part of the bargain.

Otherwise things were about to get ugly.

[Psychofish]

[Outskirts of Durem - Carter Repair Services]
[Diemos - Scene I]

With only a token resistance, things moved to a certain point very quickly- she'd find both her arms pulled up behind herself, and if she didn't try to throw him off when he did it, he'd lunge to one side without removing his hips- grabbing after the zip ties, causing a number to scatter across the floor while he took one strong one, looping her wrists and tightening it in all of a second. An arrest, if only for the use of the ties instead of cuffs- and wherever he had learned it, the motions were sharp, fast, accurate- well trained, and the tie was far from flimsy.

The sounds of pain barely seemed to give him pause as he went through the motions quickly and mechanically- but afterwards he seemed to pay more attention.

He didn't know what the hell was going on. Had she really made a comment about buying her a drink? That kind of snark didn't really seem innocent, but he'd more have expected to hear it if he was frisking her at a security check, not shuffling through important things. He should have been fitting them back into the trunk already- but then she seemed to change stories altogether, claiming it seemed abandoned.

"What... do I look stupid?" Benni glanced around the room for other dangers- a well lit room, that had contained sounds of a shower going off until moments before.

He frowned, staring down at her, suddenly very uncomfortable in this position and not sure what to do as all the skin and squirming tactic of disarming him did at least psych him out quite effectively, leaving the man stuck between feeling like he should dismount immediately out of indecency and staying there because he couldn't seem to put together what he hell he was supposed to do with this intruder with strange headgear now. Maybe a little bit of other reasons too. Of course she'd only really have a little bit of contact and his voice to work with, not seeing that his expression was closer to confused and slightly pained than lustily smitten. He decided on pushing down on her back with a grip on her wrists with one hand, reaching up to try and yank her goggles off with the other.

"Alright, who are you?" Even if things were accidents more often than crimes in his experience, caution was supposed to be the default, and breaking into some crappy old building, and dodging occupants to crack the lock on a hidden trunk full of sensitive items stacked up a few too many coincidences to dismiss.

It seemed natural to him to assume she was with whomever it was he was here to track down in the first place.

...and that she was a very strange little babe. Thief. He meant thief.

Paidi tou Selini

[Paidi tou Selini]

Sins of an Angel

arrow Merchant's District - Bazaaar

For the first time in what felt like forever, she could not hear the click of her heels against the hard ground. Assaulted by sights, sounds, and smells on all sides, it was rather difficult to fully appreciate the busy marketplace. Still fascinating, of course, but the little blood mage knew it would become exhausting very quickly. Still she would persevere. She was on a mission, after all, and she had a lot to prove to her new Master. She could not allow anything as trivial as fatigue to get in her way. The mission itself was simple enough. A precursor, really. A test. She would either pass and begin the long, arduous climb through the varying levels of grace and trust these men granted their underlings, or she would fail and be relegated to the labs; an artifact to be researched and exploited. Failure was not an option.

Paidi Tou Selini, the child of the moon, moved purposely through the crowd, the magical pull of the compass clutched tightly in her hand guiding her precisely where she needed to go without question. Short red skirt swayed coolly over slender, powerfully athletic legs, covered themselves by thin black stockings. A comfortable black tanktop clung easily to her chest, unstrained by the labors of her powerwalk. To show only a modest amount of that youthfully lustrous, exotic bronze skin, she also wore her favorite red shawl, loosely draped over her shoulders and around her arms to allow any stray breeze to catch and cool. All the while muddied, dark brown/crimson eyes scanned the masses for the target they sought. With the extra magical help, it was a target that did not take long to find.

"Mrs. DeCuir!" she called out with an excited wave, "Oh, Mrs. DeCuir~ I can not believe I actually found you!"

She jogged up happily to her fellow exotic islander as the compass was discreetly slipped into a hidden pocket in the shawl. This was meant to seem natural; the less things her target had to be suspicious of the better. In this case her warm, friendly smile and relaxed demeanor was easy to make convincing since she genuinely did like the woman. No better way of acting natural than actually believing the act. "Please forgive the intrusion, ma'am. He sent me to assist you in your task, insofar as I am able..."

[Paidi tou Selini]

Antique Queen

arrow Downtown > A Random Coffee Shop

The young dilettante perked up at that, interrupting her search to look up and tilt her head at her new companion with an expression part curious and part sympathetic. "Oh, you too? May I ask what brought you to such a state? For me, if it wasn't obvious..." she gave a small nod at the paper most recently thrown into the rejected pile, "...I didn't feel very safe in my previous place of residence."

For Kalyna's part she took the implications in stride, inwardly noting the confirmation that this was indeed a lady of class, but otherwise quite used to that sort of talk. There was often subtle contests of how impressively expensive one's accessories were, but when it came to matters of finance there was no condescension or jealousy among equals; merely facts.

Absently she plucked the article from her little half-stack and offered it over. Perhaps a touch middle class from the area and lack of close-catering amenities, but newly refurbished and spacious enough to be high middle class, the 5 bed 3.5 bath split-level condo did look rather fancy for what it was; likely meant to be divide between multiple tenants rather than housing a family. "It's rather quaint, I think. Nice and quiet, and close enough to downtown and the university both. I'd be tempted to take it myself, but it's your lead so I'll wait. What do you think?"

[Abyssal Majesty]

arrow Downtown > A Random Coffee Shop

The red head teetered the question about her head for a quick moment before answering. The reason why she was looking for a new place? It wasn't her type to just come out with personal baggage to a complete stranger on the drop of a hat. It wasn't a matter of security, the circumstance was simply.. hard to swallow. Her reputation and dig site had been alleviated from her because of the disappearance of one of her associates during her last, and possibly one of her biggest discoveries yet. What was worse was that she was there when it all happened along with just one other person who made it out with her. And what was worse than that, Evelynn hadn't the faintest clue as to where the person could have possibly gone.

"A spell of bad luck I'm afraid." She said with a sweet smile. Reaching out, she took up the pamphlet Kalyna spoke of and gave it a brief peruse. "But by the looks of it, things might be looking up."

Her deep blue eyes studied the picture offered as well as the rest of the information. It was quaint, but spacious enough for more than just herself. Evey could have easily used up some of the rooms for books and artifacts and so on. However, Kalyna has certainly helped out, and was in need of it in return. The location was fantastic, downtown, close to the university. Her head tilted to the side thoughtfully, her white teeth gently biting down on her lower lip. After a solid minute of deliberation, Evelynn tossed the paper back onto the table before she leisurely leaned back in her chair, her legs crossing with ease.

"What sort of gal are you, Kalyna? I know I wouldn't mind potentially having a flatmate." Evey Grinned genuinely at the young woman. Why not ask her? It certainly couldn't hurt. One could always move. "I'm quiet and tend to study and read a lot. I'm a professor by trade. So, I'm all into that academic boogaloo."

Paidi tou Selini