Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Hm. That's a trick I could learn," Paul said to Siber appreciatively. "Subtlety beyond stealth hasn't really been my thing up 'till now. I should get a Chameleonic going," he suddenly mused. "I'll bet you I could do it, it's Shadow, right?" He came to the desk out front of the gate, then realized what he didn't have.

Bag.

Then again, he'd brought none of his stuff with him the whole time. He'd been wearing the same clothing for a couple days now. Thank goodness for Joe's jacket.

((Me too, I need to get some sleep for school tomorrow,
Night everyone.))

Another car came screeching up the road. The driver slammed it into the quarterpanel of the Taurus Paul had parked there just a minute ago. Two men, both dressed very darkly and wearing gas masks jumped out of the vehicle, sprinting for the door as soon as their feet touched the ground. One of the guards made a move to block them, seeing their assault rifles. He went for his radio and his sidearm, but he was far too late; Three slammed the butt of his AK74U into the guard's face and was into the building before it seemed possible he could be. Four glanced behind them as they passed through, spotting another car with demons now beginning to pull up. Then they were into the crowded airport.

There were a lot of people, but screams began to echo throughout the airport as people became increasingly aware of the insanely fast-moving, very heavily armed men sprinting down the hallway. Guards occasionally appeared, firing shots into the vests and even occasionally firing at their heads. None of it worked; inevitably, they received face-fulls of wooden stock, combined with the men sprinting on.

Within half a minute they had pulled into visual, but it seemed someone was ready for them; a couple of explosive shots whistled down the halls and detonated on the ground in front of them. One was well placed enough to throw Four off his feet. "Vlad! Ice, freeze them!" Four shouted to Three.

"Okay!" Vlad returned, switched the AK to automatic, and fired a few controlled bursts down the aisle.

---

Paul's head twisted as screams erupted down the hall the way they had come. He glared about, then... "Guys, cover! Cover!" he shouted, veritably throwing Siber behind a pillar. He pushed Joe roughly over to the far side of the desk, then grabbed Sam and pulled him around to the inside of the desk. Jacob he more or less tossed next to Joe, so at least they could hang out together. That done, he drew his pistol and turned his head around the corner. There they were - the two undead creations of Fyrin, the one with the AK and the other with the P90. Paul jumped into the open, fired three shots precisely, and grinned as the one armed with the P90 popped up and onto his back. He did not grin as the one with the AK started shooting; in fact, he tried to get to cover, but too late. One of the long ice needles slammed into his forearm, breaking both of the bones cleanly and simultaneously freezing them into the position they needed to be in for a cast. The ice spread up to his shoulder before it stopped, leaving him with an almost entirely immobile left arm. "Okay, help me out!" Paul shouted to the others, diving behind another pillar.
Paul:
Condition: Green
Mana: 88%
Athena KR6: <42>/42/42/42/42/42/22 (Phase Ammo)
Glock 26: <9>/11/6/1 (Explosive Ammo)

Fyrin:
Mana: 90%
Shield: Blue

Steven Johnson (One):
Mana: 89%
SCAR CQC: <31>/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/22 (Magnifying Ammo)
Five-seveN: <20>/20/20 (Magnifying Ammo)

George England(Two):
Mana: 88%
G36C: <31>/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/24/14 (Magnifying Ammo)
92FS: <15>/15/15 (Magnifying Ammo)

Vladimir(Three):
Mana: 86%
AK74U: <20>/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/30/23/9 (Magnifying Ammo)
1911: <8>/8/8/8 (Magnifying Ammo)

James Lowry(Four):
Mana: 89%
P90: <51>/50/50/50/50/50/50/50/50/39/31 (Magnifying Ammo)
USP .45: <12>/12/12 (Magnifying Ammo)

Jacob landed on one knee next to Joe, "Who the Hell is firing at us here?" he asked, peeking over the desk just in time to see Paul take out one only to have his left arm immobilized by another. Jacob witnessed some sort of heron appear and take hits for Paul. He ducked back down, "I take it they have warlocks too." he said aloud.

Damn...I wish I had my gun

I left it back in Seattle, I can't take a gun to an airport unless I want to be tackled by twenty different men and labeled as a terrorist.

I'm not sure, I would try to get in close, but that might not be a good idea seeing as they know magic and have guns, whereas I have neither.

Jacob turned and looked at Joe, "You wouldn't happen to have a gun, would you? Or any ideas on how I can fight and not get killed?"

((That's... that's... more than moderately disturbing. Like, in the same room? I mean, it's a great song, but there had better have been some females in your little voyage into sketchy augury.))

Siber noticed Jacob's vulnerability, but couldn't do anything about it. He was summoning defensive dæmons and needed a working offense. In addition, he felt a spurt of Svadhisthana from the direction of the dæmons and their sudden rush forward. As he saw Paul reach for his shadow, he kept his face turned away, behind the pillar, and closed his eyes. When the bang sounded, he knew what had happened.
Gripping the sides of the pillar behind him hard, he let himself down to his knees as his eardrums strove fervently to let him know they weren't working and said to Keldan,

"Joe, you're gonna want to take this one for a while; I need to work up a different summon than I had planned." Keeping one cache available for the panda, he began chanting for Anaeris, the butterfly. She was good enough with shields, he thought, that it would be better to have a blunt, effective instrument out than something fine-tuned that would take too long to do what he needed.
Speaking of blunt instruments...

((Taking the opportunity to write for Samuel, 'cuz he appears to be out of commission during this fight.))

As soon Sam heard the screams, he was ready for action. Grumbling fiercely about Paul's rough treatment of him, he whipped a meter-diameter fireball back at his assailants, but it fused with Siber's ice blast and sailed harmlessly into the kitchen. "We need to coordinate something, you-!" he yelled over the confusion, and then he saw the flash-bang.
Wreathing himself in fire, he threw himself towards the attackers, getting ahead of the explosive and shielding himself with the distorting qualities of flame. His sword came out and he slashed upward at James.

((Hey, I have a post partially set up but I have to go eat dinner, guys. I'll brb as fast as I can, 'kay?))

Joe pulled a 9mm out of the back of his pants, spun it casually around his index finger, and handed it to Jacob. "I want that back when we're done."
He popped up, fired a flechette of fireballs (this was rapidly becoming a signature move for him) and popped back down.
Of course, as luck would have it, he popped up in time to be hit with a bright light. His ears popped, and he cried out as he fell back.
He cursed himself vehemently. He had never fallen for something that simple before; he was Special Ops, damn it! His Sarge would tear him up if he knew about this. Probably on the order of a 50 mile run with a 100 pound bag of rocks.
He rolled behind cover, rubbing his eyes. He stayed down as the M/WIBs set up their stuff.

As all this took place, Joe's eyes finally cleared. Now, retribution.
He stood, hands out in case he needed something. Both the targets were occupied.
He turned his attention to Vladimir, who was in a much better position to fight. Joe tracked the grenade without consternation, waiting until it landed. Then, a rushing wind roared through the terminal, and the grenade found itself rolling back where it came from...
Without losing focus, Joe turned to James, blasting a rapid-fire barrage of fire after him, trying to force him into cover.
Joe was dangerous when he actually focused, although that rarely happened.

((And boy, ain't that the truth.))