Never Mess With A Taxidermist (IMPACT THREAD)

[Roderic]

My wife is quiet, which is nice, but that doesn’t come without a price. She kicks me in the shins and I don’t even begin to wonder or ask why. Nothing is going to distract me from what we had planned, not even her Alluristy emotions. I feel something, it’s not labeled as something specific yet, other than it’s a negative feeling at how she’s been acting. But then I have to remind myself that she’s an Allurist and has never been at a big hunting party like Doc and I have been. Yet, I can’t help but want to strangle her because she’s making me and Doc look bad. Which would be fine if she killed more than one thing a week, but that doesn’t happen. If she had ever been part of a big hit party where anything and everything could go wrong.

The door opens, but Freyja doesn’t tag along. Women. Again, I’ll never understand them and I’m not going to even start trying tonight. As long as everyone does their part when the time comes, and we all live with as few injuries as possible, I consider it a win and the women’s weirdness and my wife’s second guessing will be forgotten about.

The door closes and it’s me, Jules, Sky and River in the elevator. “Everything will be fine. Everyone knows what they are and aren’t capable of doing.” I tell everyone as the elevator ascends to the eighth floor of the flats. Doc never confirmed if he wanted Daegal, but either way he was going to be used. If not for Doc, then for my own uses. Sure, I can move in the shadows without being seen, but I could step in a trap, or make a noise and suddenly there’s five or more Paladin’s on my ***. Maybe I should risk it. I might. I might and give Daegal a helping hand with Doc’s plan for ‘sparky.’ I’m not sure how he came up with that name for River, but I think it suits Skylar better. “But if you don’t think you can’t do something, don’t do it. It’s not worth the risk to you, or anyone else. For instance, I’m not touching a gun. I don’t like them, I would rather fight bare handed then with a gun and accidentally shoot one of you guys. Just, I don’t know. Know your limitations and your capabilities. Trust your inner gut.” There’s as close as it's going to get for a pep talk to anyone having any second guesses or doubts about themselves and what we’re going to be doing.

The door opens finally and I step out first, still not really paying my wife any real singular focus. She has to learn that we’re part of a team, not just Skylar and Ric. I can’t have the distraction either. I pull out the apartment key from my pocket and slide it in the lock, once, twice and two more times before twisting it to the left and unlocking it all the way. I step in after opening the door slightly, and trying very hard not to close it and open it again. I don’t let the door close all the way, just to the frame before pushing it all the way open for the second time. “We’ll be right back out.” I tell everyone as I disappear to the room on the right to check out the lockboxes and wait for my wife to come in. I listen for the door to close and then say my piece. “Are you going to be able to handle this? Sometimes, things happen and we just have to make a snap decision. This is the plan, but the plan might shift and change drastically due to unforeseen circumstances.” I say as I hear her heading in my direction, after I pull the lock box out. “Pausing to take second guesses might get not one, but two people killed. You think I’d let River get killed? I partnered her up with Doc. He’s not going to let anything happen to her. You’ve got to trust him and me. Not to mention Jules. She’s a telepath, I wanted Doc and River together, so Jules can keep an eye on her from a distance. She sees River is in trouble, she can do that annoying talking in my head thing and I’ll summon her back to us in no time. That was my personal reasoning for wanting her with Doc and Jules. With Jules removed in any serious capacity, they might end up as sitting ducks. I wouldn’t know who to summon when, if need be.” I look up from the box and shrug, since my idea has been tromped all over by all the woman in the party. More or less. River’s so unsure of herself that she could barely decline doing what was asked of her. ”Yeah, we’re dicks, but we’re the dicks that’ll make sure everyone gets out alive.” I push the box aside and stand as I remember what I should have done first is make my wife coffee. I never have to worry about that sort of thing with a Tytonidae hunt fest, so I have to alter how I do things a little bit. I have to sober my wife up and then get back down to business. I head to the kitchen, but still keep on mission as I go to do this task. The coffee one. “I want River to have the best sword we’ve got laying around. If she can’t use it all that good, maybe it’ll scare the enemies enough to make them second guess messing with her to buy her some time to get out of dodge or get summoned away. Then Jules for the next best.” I’ve not said anything about Freyja yet, she seems the gun toting sort, which is fine, to each their own, but maybe she’s not all that bad with swords either. I’ll check when she comes up to the foyer.

[Skylar]

Ric doesn’t react to me kicking him. That’s new. Usually he’ll kick me back at least. What the ****? Where’d my arsehole husband go? I glare at Ric as the elevator doors close. He’s got that look. ****. He’s on a mission. Well **** that. Doesn’t mean he gets to ignore me.
He says everything will be fine. Great. I wasn’t thinking otherwise till he says that. I look down at my shoes again. I need to get changed. I’m half tempted to start stripping off, but I haven’t had nearly enough to drink for that. Though it would save time. I pick one foot up to slip my shoe off and start to lose my balance. I hop around a bit and eventually give in and put my hand on Ric’s shoulder to steady myself as I slip the strap over my heel. I put my now bare foot on the floor, and start with the other one. Once I have both shoes off, I let them dangle from the straps in my left hand and then realise I’m still holding onto Ric. Mmm. Bicep. Without much thought I find I’m now rubbing his arm. Rrrr.
I’m in my own mind again. I know this when I’m suddenly singing to myself. At first the song’s just running through my mind but then it has to come out. Not my fault. The song always reminds me of Ric. Those gorgeous dark eyes of his. Definitely deceptive. One hundred percent sexy.
I watch Ric as I sing,* but I back away from him until I hit the wall of the elevator we’re in. I know the girls are here too. Thing is I don’t mind an audience. Never have. Never will. My voice is amazeballs and I know it. Ric don’t give a ****, though. Or if he does he hides it well.
We arrive on our floor and exit, still singing, shoes swinging from my fingers. I dance to our door and wait. Ric’s gonna let us in. He likes to do his little OCD thing, so I’m gonna let him have at it. I lean against the wall next to our door and wait. Yep. I need that coffee pretty damn bad. My focus is all over the place.
Ric was yapping about us trusting our guts or something. I do that all the time. He don’t have to tell me twice. I work on instinct. Always. And I ain’t gonna do anything to get anyone else torn up. Least not on purpose.
I walk into our apartment just in time to see Blackie scarper into the bedroom. He saw Ric coming, obviously. I’m sure he’ll greet me once he gets me alone. I throw my shoes on the sofa, and smile to myself. That should annoy Ric. Shoes don’t belong on sofas. That done, I saunter to the bedroom, already pulling my t-shirt over my head. The tricky part is to come. I need to squirm out of my jeans. Ric’s lecture really isn’t sinking in. He’s justifying his treatment of River. I know he’s a thinker and I knew he’d have reasons, but still, that don’t mean he gets to bark orders at the girl. I’m the only person he can legit boss around and he only gets to do that cos I agreed to be married to him. The only power he has over me is the power I give him.
I’m about to huff when I pretty much fall on my arse. Okay. So I do fall on my arse. Was I dancing while I was sliding my jeans off or does gravity just hate me? Seriously. I swear I didn’t drink that much.
“Ow! Mother ******!”
I’m rubbing my bruised behind when I smell coffee and quickly scramble out of the jeans that are still holding my calves captive. I crawl across the bedroom and get licked in the face by an excitable dog that thinks I’m playing with him. Which of course has me giggling.
“Get off mutt. I’m not playing around.”
I scratch the little beast behind the ear and then push myself up from the floor. I walk into the kitchen pretty much naked. Well I have my underwear on, but that’s about it.
“You’re a dick. The girls need swords. I need that coffee.”
I gesture to the mug on the sideboard.
“That about sum it up? Oh and clothes. I need clothes and I need to behave.”
I nod. I’ve simplified Ric’s rantings down to the basics. He doesn’t just want me to behave though, he wants me to be competent. If he thinks I’m gonna hesitate he really hasn’t been paying attention to my recent takedowns when we’ve been out hunting together. I’m getting damn good with a sword.
I stretch and wait for Ric to hand me what I need most. He has his own list of priorities I’m sure. Mine is to drink as much coffee as I can down. Dress. Drink more coffee. Go look at what swords I have kicking about. Then take out two of my best for the girls. I’d prefer they pick them themselves but **** it, beggars can’t be choosers and if that’s what my Ricky wants, I’m happy to oblige.
Hmm… My best sword is actually a bat. I think. I need to go grab my list. I ruffle my hair with my hands as I try to remember where my phone is. Jeans pocket? Is that what hurt my butt? I look over my shoulder into the bedroom. I hope not. I don’t want to be sodding around trying to fix a busted phone. Or worse. Having to retrieve my info off it to put on a new one.

*

You have this power over me
And there's no way to fight it
I can't help but gravitate towards you,
This is a force I can't defeat
~

[River]

Curling her fingers through her hair, she gathered the thick raven curls into a loose fist and secured them with a single tie. It was frayed, close to snapping - and yet, she treated it as if it were made of iron. Her nerves had sent her into overdrive, and it seemed her muscles had a mind of their own. Her fingers constricted around the black rubber-band, and she felt it as it threatened to snap. It resembled the turmoil inside of her mind and body - her muscles coiled tight and her mind warped into something so delicate that one wrong thing would render her useless. After a quiet moment, she watched the group as they headed forward, their heads bowed and their voices muffled. It didn’t occur to her to stand with them, to engage them in conversation.

After all, it was her life on the line, too.

Instead, she remained on the outskirts of the gathering - always the outsider. She would never fit in, never be able to handle the constant conversations. It was a painful reminder to what she had become; timid, broken, weak. She was forced into the shadows, her life no longer bright and filled with color. Instead, it had become a bleak void, one that she trudged through like a warrior with tarnished and cracked armor. She was barely hanging on by a thread, but that small piece of rope refused to break. It was if it had been reinforced the moment she had met her sire, his very being bleeding life and strength into it. She couldn’t let him down. You know you’re going to. Shaking her head, she pressed her hand against her brow and took a step back, allowing the last of the group to move past her. When she realized that no one else was there, she lifted her gaze from the ground and focused to bring two brilliant blue eyes into focus.

For a moment, she merely stared at her, too stunned to speak. Had she waited for her? With a quiet sigh, she drew her brows together and stepped to the side, barely missing the nudge to her form. It was a subtle touch, and yet it ignited a fire inside of her - and not one that she enjoyed. Instantly, her body recoiled and she stumbled over her feet, her hand outstretched to catch the nearest surface she could find. It took everything inside of her to not bolt right then and there. She had never felt such an sensation before. She loathed physical contact, but it had never pulsed through her body like a bolt of electricity. She felt sickened, and as her hand rested against her stomach she fought the urge to bathe the carpet in blood. It wouldn’t have done any damage that the devastated building couldn’t handle, yet she didn’t want the world to see her shame. What the hell was that?

Regaining control of her limbs, she carefully wound her arms around her middle and shot the woman a glare. The accusation was clear in her eyes, the mismatched hues gleaming with wariness. In her mind, the blonde bombshell had done something to her - perhaps even having gone as far as to use her magic against her. She knew little about the ways of other vampires, having barely begun to master her own powers. How would she be able to tell the difference between someone else far more skilled than she? With a sigh heavy with confusion and doubt, she rubbed at her bicep where her skin still burned from the brief contact. It had been such a subtle, little thing, and yet her mind still refused to accept it. Deciding the best thing she could do was to push it from her mind, she sidestepped the blonde - making sure she kept a large distance - and moved towards the elevator.

She expected the woman to follow her lead, and she quickly tucked herself into a corner that left her enough room to fit comfortably - and not brush against her. When the elevator doors began to close and the blonde still hadn’t stepped in, she furrowed her brows. Had she upset her? It wouldn’t be a far cry to think so - her reaction was all but repulsed if one couldn’t delve into her thoughts and see the truth. Twisting her body, she peeked her head around the corner before the steel doors clicked shut, only to see a look of utter fear marring her features. Interesting. She had thought the blonde unphased by anything from the reaction she had given when her sire had uttered the names of their targets. She had been filled with a fire so consuming, she had been surprised that the entire building had turned to ash around them. Now, however, she stood frozen, as if she had been crafted from granite, her eyes locked on the elevator as if it was a magnificent beast.

Strange.

She understood the fear, however. If she had been thinking clearly, she wouldn’t have stepped into the cart, either. The thought of being jammed inside an enclosed space like a sardine unsettled her, and the knowledge that she had managed to do just that choked her. As the elevator began to crawl slowly to its floor, she felt as if she were suffocating. Their bodies were taking all of the oxygen, and she felt her vision begin to dim. She could hear singing, the sound quiet, and movement out of the corner of her eye had her head snapping up. Skylar balanced on one foot, her hand tightly wound around her sire’s bicep as she removed a heel. The source of the singing was coming from her, and she felt it begin to grate on her nerves as she pressed her hand to the walls behind her. It wouldn’t have affected her on a normal day, but in that moment, all she could think was of them plunging to their death, the last thing they heard being her serenading her husband.

Breathe.
Just breathe, it’s going to be okay.
It’s fine.
You’re not going to die.

Swallowing thickly, she felt the tears burn her eyes as she grasped the railing with all of her strength. She felt the metal cave beneath her grasp, the sound a soft squeak as she bowed her head. Her body was shaking like a leaf on the wind, her lips parted to pull in mouthfuls of oxygen as she fought to remain upright. It seemed like an eternity locked in her own personal hell, and when the elevator finally rocked to a stop, she nearly screamed. It wasn’t until the doors slid open and washed cool air over her skin that she relinquished her hold on the rail. She didn’t wait until the others had stepped off, and instead, dashed out of the Cart of Death, her body nearly sinking to her knees when she was in the lobby. Every nerve ending in her body was frayed, causing her to feel as if she were on fire.

How the hell was she supposed to get down from here?
I’ll jump out a ******* window if I have to.

Once the panic had dimmed enough to allow her to see straight, she straightened and glanced around the lobby. She had never ascended past the bottom floor, so hadn’t known what to expect - but whatever it had been, it wasn’t this. It looked like an exact replica, sans the rotting corpses tumbling around. The quiet was nearly deafening, and for a moment, it was peaceful. She felt as if she could breathe again - and then Doc stepped into her peripheral vision. Her body went on instant alert, waiting for the heavy weight of his arm to wrap around her shoulders. Winding her arms around herself once again, she used the physical motion to shelter her from whatever he had planned. Her body was a barrier, body language screaming at him to keep his distance. When he did, his own form positioned so he could see her - and yet not touch her - she began to relax. Her lower lip was tugged between her teeth, the pillowy-soft flesh being abused to the point of bloodshed as her anxiety began to quiet to a more manageable volume. “M-M-Mastered?” The word seemed pulled from her chest, her accent thick as the strained whisper hung between them. She had barely gotten control of handling a sword, and yet, he wanted to know what else she could do. Furrowing her brows, she silently mulled over the question as she studied the designs in the carpet, her attention slowly becoming pulled in another direction.

Focus, Danika!

Snapping her head up, she looked past him and cleared her throat, her hands trembling as she tugged and pulled at the sleeve of her hoodie. “N-No-Not s-s-sure. N-No-None r-r-r-really? I-I w-would s-s-say I-i-i- a-a-am i-i-in-intermed-intermediate.” Frustration built in her eyes as she forced the words out, once again wishing she could be normal. How easy would it have been to be able to speak an entire sentence without stammering like a fool? Keeping her eyes from his, she bit harder into her lower lip, the pain calming the nerve to cry as she shook her head. She couldn’t stand to look at him or Juliet, to see the pity or the annoyance in their eyes. The thought of them judging her, of laughing at her, humiliated her to the point that she dropped her head again. Shame clouded her mind, and she quickly tightened her embrace on herself and closed her eyes, shutting herself down.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this.
You have no choice.

[Freyja]

Watching as the majority of the crew slipped into the elevator, she nodded to herself, pleased. They had a nicely rounded group here. She could see it just from looking at them. A nice mix of stealth and combat, if not a small amount of support from what she was gathering. Wraiths suggested they had a mind for helping the group as much as taking down the enemies.

There’s still plenty left to really go wrong.

As she nudged the small Shadow’s shoulder, the girl nearly jumped out of her skin. The way she recoiled, nearly tripping over herself to run away, she thought for a minute that maybe she had done something to hurt her. She frowned, the expression etched into her face as she lifted her palm, inspecting it. She lifted her fingers and touched her cheek, the pads of her fingers cold from the chill. Nothing.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected. She hadn’t learned anything close to the powers of a Mystic, whom had the power of channeling a searing pain through their palms and into another body. She’d learned about that one through experience. So what happened? She watched as the young woman retreated from her in a rush, nearly falling face first into the elevator in her desperate attempt to escape, the expression on her face enough to hurt the Allurist. She frowned deeper. She had hoped to make the poor thing more comfortable, not to turn her against her for…

What?

For trying to reassure her? It was just an elbow to her arm, and not even a jab. Just a simple, gentle touch. She really did care that the girl was as frightened of the group around her as she would be of the paladins. If she was so skittish of her own team, she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle the task ahead. How was she going to concentrate on going into battle, when she was fatally frightened of the people at her back? She was going to be looking over her shoulder the whole time.

She tugged her glossy lower lip between her teeth, worrying on the soft flesh as the steel doors to the elevators slowly eased shut. She thought it best that she said nothing. Four of them. Doc had taken the stairs. A wise choice, to be certain. She should have done the same, but she had an agenda of her own. Left to herself, she moved to idly lean against the wall next to the elevator doors. She watched the lobby as she waited in silence, thinking.

This whole city is built on blood. There’s so much death here, so much darkness. This place is evil, and the people… they don’t even know. They live their lives, blissfully ignorant. I came to this city lost, a lamb walking among the wolves.

She glanced over her head as the elevator gave a soft ding. Her eyes scanned the dial just above the door. “Eighth floor. Good, I’ll be alone.” She waited patiently, listening as the doors shut and the car shuttered on the cables as it descended again for her. Her icy glare moved over the bodies in the room, vampires of every age waged an endless war on the rotting, living corpses of the zombies that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

There couldn’t really have been that many people here before, could there have? It’s been years…

She shook her head, blonde curls flowing loosely around her shoulders as she pushed the thought from her mind. It was enough to make her head hurt. As the elevator doors noisily ground against their tracks, they opened with a groan. The car was empty but for the blood stains that dried against the steel interior. She stepped inside and pushed the button numbered ten.

The car shuddered, and then jolted up with a start. The ride was relatively smooth after the initial floor, the smooth vibration of the steel box all around her almost soothing. She didn’t mind the elevator itself. It was just so old… nobody looked after this place anymore. She wouldn’t be surprised when this tower crumbled into the pavement all around it.

The elevator dinged again, the doors trembling as they opened and she stepped into the silence of the empty lobby on the tenth floor.

Now, I am a Vixen. Sly, intelligent, willful, and strong; I know who I am, and I know what I am meant to do.

She reached into the pocket of her jacket and found her keys nestled neatly beneath her zippo. The expensive lighter was one of a kind, she knew its look without pulling it out of her pocket. Silver, inlaid with a vine of gold. Her initials were embossed in the same white gold, her thumb tracing over them slowly as she looked about the old, musty room. It was large, almost completely void of obstructions but for a quartet of couches for the commons and strategically placed potted plants. She smirked, and pulled her keys into her hand, flicking the right one to separate on the first try. A small Ten Thousand and Nine etched into the flat of the key.

The door unlocked with ease, the old key fitting the lock like a glove. The door was only a ruse, the cheap wooden material used by the original builders was reinforced with a steel vault door on the opposite side, a series of tumblers and locks falling into place with heavy, mechanical thunks. She twisted the heavy steel knob, and shoved a shoulder into the door. It was heavy, difficult to move for the average human being. She shoved it aside and pushed her way into the room, flicking the lights on with a snap of her fingers.

Quickly, she flicked another key from the ring and moved to her bedroom, unlocking the door. Inside, she hardly cast a glance to the lavish decoration about the room. She didn’t have the time to dwell on her memories, to collect things for her newer, nicer place in Veil Towers. She moved straight to the book shelf, pulling an old, worn Danish bible from the shelf. The black leather was ragged and ratty, and felt half paper in her hands. She flipped open the cover, the hollowed-out pages hiding the remote she was looking for. She pushed the only button on the thin black square, and the book shelf’s face split in two, both halves sliding apart to reveal a gun locker behind the polished mahogany.

Lights lined the safe, flickering to light as the power locks unlatched, deactivating the alarm as a light flashed into her eye, reading her retina. She blinked at the sting, hand lifting to wipe away a tear from her agitated eye as she thrust her hand forward, slipping just shy of slamming into the plate glass doors as they slid open without a sound. Manicured nails clicked against the hardened titanium alloy of the rifle as she lifted it from the central housing unit. She pulled it into her arms, couching the weapon in the crook of her arm as she pulled open a wide shelf at the bottom of the case.

Magazines of every size and ammo type were ordered from smallest round to largest, lowest round capacity to highest. The entire safe was meticulously kept. She was absolutely manic about its organization. Swiftly, she pulled two of the high cap magazines and tucked them into her jacket, the leather loops lining the inside of her coat perfect for holding the rifle clips.

The weapon she had taken was very special to her, kept only for the most serious situations. The rifle was huge, standing more than five feet from butt to muzzle, the bolt action receiver large enough to accept the tremendously powerful fifty caliber round. It was hardly the largest weapon she owned, but the drawbacks were all the same for this category of weaponry. At close range, the rifle was useless. She could only manage two, maybe three shots before she would have to abandon the weapon for her modified PPK. The small pistol was still tucked neatly against her breast, the weight reassuring her as she pulled a fresh cigarette from her pack and lit it, snapping the custom zippo shut with a click.

Tossing the empty pack on the bed, she grabbed a full, unopened pack from her dresser on her way out the door. When the door met the threshold, the locks slowly slid into place, a long series of thumps and mechanical whines as the gears worked the tumblers back into place. The entire apartment went back into lockdown, her bedroom door shutting itself and resuming the lock, the gun safe sliding back into concealment within the book shelf. The lights flicked off automatically. No one could even tell she had been there.

She smirked, and hefted the long rifle from the floor and tossed it over her shoulder. Now she was locked and loaded. The second elevator ride was much faster, only going down two floors. As the door opened, Doc was making his way into the lobby and Ric and Skylar were already behind the closed door of their apartment. She watched as Doc closed on the pair of women waiting in the lobby, moving to confer with them, to strategize. That left her the odd man out. She moved to an empty wall, dropping her rifle’s butt to the floor with a loud, but muffled thump of the fiberglass stock against the area rug. She took a drag of her cigarette, leaning the weapon into the crook of her shoulder as she waited patiently for the rest of what appeared to be her half of the squad.

She watched the three in silence, listening as they began to work together, watching the youngest of them, River, quietly mumble her way through an explanation of her powers. She listened to Doc, so confident and in control, taking the reins without issue or hesitation. That was always something to look for in a leader; confidence. She sighed, smoke billowing from her lips as she flicked the butt of her cigarette, grey ash floating to the floor as she turned to Ric and Skylar’s apartment door. They wouldn’t be too long, she was certain.

Quietly, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back, resting against the peeling wallpaper.

I am a Vixen. Swift, cunning, deadly. I am a force to be reckoned with, and these piece of **** Paladins are about to learn what fear truly is.

Tonight is going to be glorious.

[Juliet]

Everything was coming together. As she listened to the others, she didn’t think that anything could go wrong - she’d seen River, who was young, down in the sewers before as well as Freyja. It wouldn’t be too difficult at all, either, for them to gather the information that was needed; Skylar’s weapons were some of the best that Juliet had ever seen. Her green eyes lifted to the ceiling of the elevator after they stepped foot inside and she ran her tongue over the front of her teeth in thought. The list was completed in her head and she looked back down at the group inside the confined space. “I agree.” She said to Ric saying that they knew their abilities.

Pushing her hair over her shoulder, she reached into her jeans and dug her phone from her pocket as it chimed at her. She went over the words that her employee had sent over, one of their customers had been injured in a fall and was threatening to sue. It caused the woman to sigh, thinking that incompetence wasn’t something she appreciated. Turning her phone to the side, she typed a response: handle it, do not bother me again tonight and tucked the device away. She considered asking Ric to give it back to her later - it would be only a distraction if the others in her employment needed her, but then had a second thought.

If the group itself needed to contact her, she didn’t think they could use telepathy which was her go to habit. Putting the device on vibrate, Juliet slid it back into her pocket and watched the number lift slowly until they reached Ric and Sky’s floor, glancing towards River with concern playing across her features. She resisted the urge to try and comfort the girl, instead reaching into her pocket once more to search for a bracelet. After a moment, she cupped it into her hand and focused, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath before uncovering it to reveal the fact it looked more valuable.

Afterwards, she held it out and over to River, “Here love, focus on this. It isn’t much… but maybe it’ll help?” A kind smile was given and then she glanced over her shoulder to see Ric and Sky go to their apartment. It made her chuckle still, the idea of the two living together. Lifting her head, Juliet then turned to Doc as he spoke and then brunette shrugged softly. She then appraised the man, answering, “I’m not as good as you are with one, but I’m talented enough with one that I can make one hell of a shot,” and then she glanced to River, doing the same, “but you both have me beat on martial arts.” Although, Juliet was fast, she really wasn’t good with blades - unless she was catching them with her knee.

“I may be able to help with distraction, too, even from a distance,” She motioned towards the bracelet, “by making things seem more important and appealing to the eye - I do it with customers in Blood Diamonds all the time to make them more likely to buy something, and also, I can project different images into minds. It could do to get you out of a sticky situation.” As she spoke, as if to make a second opinion, her shadow shuddered before reaching out and knocked a vase off a nearby table. “And my shadow has a mind of its own.” It was one of the few things that Juliet had received and didn’t mind keeping that she shared with her sire, “So maybe I’ll get lucky and have it maul something I wouldn’t mind ruining.”

She bit her bottom lip, “If anything goes too wrong, I’ll contact Ric without any hesitation to get River to safety, first.” And then she looked to the woman, giving a soft smile, “And it isn’t because about doubting your abilities, dear, I just really don’t want you too banged up on your first run.” She winked, “He’d never let me hear the end of it.” She looked back to Doc, shifting her weight.

[Doc]

Doc: Doc listened as Jewels said she expounded on her abilities. It was good to know that Jewels was proficient with rifle. That meant he and she at least could take out several from a distance. The ability to distract was a large plus he hadn’t calculated into his plan. He gave her nod and a pleased look. “Good.. That sort of distraction can come in handy. Actually, very handy. More than likely, when I attack, they will scatter. If there is pandemonium and chaos, that raises the fear factor. And even though they are training, something hitting them out of the blue will cause emotions to run high and then we can use that to our advantage.

“You both will need suppressors and sub-sonic rounds. There will be enough commotion with the puma attack to cover any residual mechanical noise left over.” Doc glanced between Jewels and Sparky. Jewels got it. He could tell by her self assured stance, she followed him. Sparky however, had a questioning look to her gaze. A look that said she was trying to formulate the question, but wasn’t exactly sure how to ask it, so Doc decided to explain. “A suppressor.. is the actual term. Most people call them silencers. They do not silence. They suppress the noise from the shot. But there will always be noise. The way it is portrayed in movies,.. ******* lies.” His tone was affable in an educational way, as it were. “You will always have the sound of the mechanics, the trigger and the firing pin hitting the primer cap. The combustion of the powder, is what the suppressor lessens greatly.

“The sub-sonic rounds. Those are rounds that move through the air, slower than sound. So there is no sonic boom. No sonic boom, even less sound. Down side to that however, is the round is moving slower, they do not hit their target as hard. So less noise we can make.. the better.”

Doc looked from Sparky to Jewels, then to Ric’s apartment. “Um..” It was now Doc’s turn to look uncomfortable. The two of them needed rifles, suppressors and sub-sonic ammo. But he didn’t want to brave that doorway. He remembered when he brought Ric back here after Smelliot fucked him over. Skylar wouldn’t let him cross the threshold. He wasn’t about to do it now. Not after that look she gave him a few minutes ago. “Jewels..” He lowered his voice somewhat. “Could you ask Skylar about the suppressors and rounds? I really don’t want her upset with me.. and I think you would be more welcome in there..” he gestured with a quick nod of his head toward the apartment door, “than I would be.” Doc respected Skylar. She had a **** for brains sire, that she bent over backwards to give the benefit of the doubt in every instance. But she also defiantly stood by Ric regardless of the fact her sire was demanding she make a choice. The fact Skylar was that forgiving for her sire however, did not mean she would be that forgiving for him. In fact, he rather doubted it. So, yea. He would much rather Jewels enter the bear den than himself.

[Roderic]

This is going to be a very long night and I would be surprised if my wife lived through it. She couldn’t even walk right without falling on her butt. Great. I’m going to have to make sure I keep an eye on her at all times. She speaks her mind about my persona and I just shrug. “Yeah, I know.” I say about her comment about the swords and the girl’s needing them as I start the pot of coffee for my wife. I never drank the stuff, but living with someone who needed some coffee to sober up after a good solid night of drinking and I’ve become a pro on how many scoops to add, how she likes it and how to clean the damn thing.

“Coffee is in the mug on the counter.” I tell my wife and then leave the small kitchen to head back to my second task. Collecting traps and things that go boom. I know I don’t have a lot, but I have a few. Enough, hopefully. If not, well, I’m not afraid of getting up in someone’s face. In fact, I prefer it. I find some bear traps, more than what I probably actually need for five seasons of bear hunting, a couple of mines, and three sensor turrets. I guess it’ll have to do. I put seven bear traps to the side, put three back in the box and push the rest of the traps with the bear traps before closing the box and putting it back against the wall of the closet.

Since my wife is still taking her time with the coffee, I decide to go through her drawers and pick out the most form fitting outfit she has, that was the darkest too. A black pair of pants and a black t-shirt with some band name and image. I put them on the bed and head to the closet where I find an old leather coat-my old cut from my MC days. It has my name on it, but I grab my small hunting knife from the side holster and cut it off. It actually had ‘Rod,’ On it, but I haven’t gone by anything close to that in a long time. Roddy, is what Nishaa calls me, but we’re not as close as we once were. Which was what it was. I don’t mind. It’s simple and easier to me to not have to have a lot of close friends. When you’re close with people they want to know everything about your life, or expect you to want to know everything about their life. Just look at my relationship with my wife.

“Got you some clothes out.” I call from the bedroom as I put the coat next to her clothes. It’s obviously not for me since I’m wearing a coat. The dog makes noise from under the bed and I snort and leave the room. We both hate each other mutually, but sometimes I want to kick him in his mutt. I own this place, so he should learn to get rid of whatever chip he has on his shoulder. And even though he would have it coming to him, Skylar would take his side. Women do that. A dog could rip your damn arm off and somehow, it’s your fault and you’re a horrible person if you gave them what was coming to them.

“How you doing?” I pop my head in to check on my half naked wife who is working on her second mug of coffee by now. “You got any new nifty powers you want to share before we get out there and realize it too little too late?” I’m still trying to strategize to make our team as strong and as efficient as it could be before we meet up with any potential paladins. It was then I realize I forgot to grab the traps and explosives from the closet and move my *** to the bedroom before the dumb dog gets nosy and decides to blow himself and our apartment up. I wouldn't be sad about him taking a dirt nap, but I don’t think my wife would be thrilled about all our things being destroyed and us potentially killed.

The dog is still under the bed and I give him a death glare before telling him what a good boy he is. Maybe he isn’t an idiot. I get surprised by things every now and again. I grab the ones that go boom first and take them to the kitchen and put them on the counter opposite of my wife. “They go boom. Don’t touch, don’t look, don’t breathe on them.” I say before grabbing the bear traps and coming back out to put them on the floor next to the counter. I don’t move from the spot, which is right next to them, because knowing my luck, Skylar would step in one, if not all of them.

[Skylar]

Mmm… is there anything better than coffee?
Yes. Yes there probably is, but right now as I take in the aroma of my bitter, dark friend I can’t help but smile and think there isn’t. I don’t take milk or sugar. I don’t **** around. Black coffee, strong and perfect. A little cold water is all it ever needs to make it instantly drinkable. I practically down the first mug full. The effects aren’t instantaneous but it won’t take long for it to sober me up. By the time we get where we’re going I should be pretty clear headed.
I hear Ric rummaging around in our bedroom, but I don’t go to check what he’s up to. I need to refill my mug and work on a second cup. Stat.
My patience is soon rewarded too, as he calls out telling me he’s got me some clothes out. I don’t need help dressing myself. Okay. Maybe sometimes I do. But I hadn’t asked him to do that. Had I? Should I be offended that he doesn’t think I could dress appropriately? I shrug my shoulders to myself. I don’t much care. There ain’t no-one around to witness me going along with whatever he wants, so who cares. And really, it’s kinda sweet right? That he wants to make sure I’m dressed right.
Ric asks how I’m doing. I think he means , am I sober yet. Not yet babe, but I’m working on it. I have both hands wrapped around my mug as I do a mental check of my powers. Anything new? Anything Ric don’t know about? I think he knows it all. He’s seen me fight. He trained me. He knows all there is to know.
“I’ll be good to go soon enough babe, so no stressing okay? And power wise I think you know it all. Worse comes to worse I’ll pacify anyone that gets too close and then cut ‘em down. ‘Kay?”
I like that he worries about me. It’s cute. I’d muss up his hair but he’s too far away.
I eye Ric as he walks back in with the traps. Damn. I’ve asked him before if he’s trying to kill me, since he insists on not only making but keeping these things in our home, but he insists he’s not. I’m inclined to believe him since he’s so blade happy. There’s more chance of him carving me up with one of my own blades, than of him purposely planting traps to knock me on my arse. I glance at the traps, refill my cup and shuffle away. His instructions are simplistic, like he’s talking to a kid, but I’m not offended. He knows me. He knows I’m some sort of walking disaster and there is a very good chance I’ll end up setting one of them off if I even so much as look at them for too long. I half think I might be partly magnetic or something and therefore attract the damn things. I’m lucky he keeps them stored away in the forbidden closet; else we really would have issues.
“I’m gonna go change.”
I grumble on my way to the bedroom cos I wanted to paw at my husband and thank him properly for my coffee but he decided to stand next to the things that go boom. Arse.
I pick through the clothing with one hand as I down more of my wake-up juice. I can work with that. I pick Ric’s jacket up and look it over. Am I supposed to wear this? I look towards the bedroom door. Probably. It’ll be a bit big for me and I have my own leather jacket but mine is more for fashion and this looks more durable. Is that why he left it for me? He knows I’ll need some extra protection.
I drain the remnants of my drink and place the cup on the side table. Time to get dressed. It doesn’t take me long to get changed and I put my jeans on while sitting down. Well to start anyway. That way I don’t end up face planting or something. I eye the pile of discarded clothes on the floor and start rooting through my jeans for my phone. Thankfully the thing is intact. I wake the screen up and look for my sword list. Okay. What’s what?
I pick out two weapons from the list and then shrug into Ric’s jacket. And don’t laugh at me, okay but I actually grasp it with both hands and bury my nose in it. It smells like Ric. This unique scent of leather and nicotine and manliness. I have no idea what the actual scent is, but whatever it is, I ******* love it. I sigh contentedly. He’s not getting this back. He should be used to me pinching his stuff occasionally - I steal his shirts and boxers whenever the mood takes me.
I pet Blackie, who is still hiding out in the bedroom and tell him to be good, then walk back into the main room. I’m pretty much ready. Though I do ponder a fourth coffee.
“How do I look?”
I ask this while doing a little turn. I have on the outfit Ric picked out for me along with my black leather combat boots. I look pretty badass even if I do say so myself. My hair’s still down but I have a tie on my wrist for later, in case things get dicey. I don’t want to end up with a sword in my gut cos my hair got in my eyes.

[River]

It seemed as if time was impervious to her discomfort. It refused to stand still, to stop the ticking of the clock long enough for her to gather herself. She would never be fully capable of handling the situation, but it would allow her enough strength to not threaten to fall to pieces if someone looked at her. However, she would never gain that blissful moment that she would need. Instead, the world continued on, and she was forced to remain still, her body positioned in the center of the room, where all eyes could be on her. Would be. Shaking the thought from her mind, she took a step back - and then another - until she had found herself near the Amazonian bombshell. The pain she had felt due to her touch had subsided, yet she still kept her distance as she leaned against the wall to use it as a support as her legs began to numb. I’m going insane.

Once she felt the peeling wallpaper against her back, she dropped her arms and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. It took all of her willpower to not embrace herself again, and she couldn’t understand the urge. It offered her the comfort she was surely lacking, but how much shelter did it really provide? It wouldn’t protect her from their voices, nor would it hide her from their prying, judgmental eyes. They would still see her as clear as the stars on a warm summers night - and they would condemn her. She was a vampire, a creature the was concocted to terrify children in their beds, yet she was brought down by her own mind. She knew it was illogical, she had realized that long ago. However, the knowledge hadn’t helped - in fact, it had only seemed to make it worse.

I can’t even die right.

Shaking her head, she curled her hand into a fist at her side, nails scraping along the denim before she released the hold when Juliet turned towards her. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, though the look wasn’t anything resembling hostile. Instead, it was more confused - curious - nervous. She was like a cornered cat and Juliet the large, drooling, snarling dog that wanted to rip her stomach out. As she held out the bracelet, her brows drew together and she curled her fingers around it, allowing it to rest easily in her palm. Such beauty, she admired as she began to trace the glittering edges with the pad of her thumb. As engrossed as she was in the gift, she had barely managed to grasp that Doc was speaking. Without realizing it, she had snapped her gaze to his, the mismatched orbs unfocused and confused as he questioned her. What in the world is he going on about?

Say something, Danika.
Anything will do.
Just a word. One word.
Answer him!

Before she had a chance to obey the voice in her mind, he had already tumbled on, and her shoulders relaxed in relief. He hadn’t sneered at her or rolled his eyes. Instead, he had explained it to her as one would a student, and she found herself nodding as her gaze dropped back to the bracelet in her palm. She didn’t have the intellectual ability to understand exactly what he was referring to - anything that had to do with guns seemed to go right over her head. Instead, she gripped the bracelet in her hand and began to shake her head again. She didn’t need those things. Her skill in martial arts, though not mastered, was for more advanced than her ability to fire a weapon. She parted her lips to say as much, her throat clenching as she attempted to push the words past, only to make a small, whispered croak when the statement died on her tongue. You’re going to die out there, she muttered to herself as she pressed tighter against the wall to wait.

[Freyja]

Patience.

You need to be calm.

Keeping calm wasn’t the easiest part of the waiting. She was ready to roll out. Time was not an inexhaustible source for them. Well. For most of them. She was fully capable of surviving in the sun, though immediately upon contact with the first rays of dawn, her powers were quite dampened, her usually infinite well of energy vanishing in an instant. They would have to strike, and complete whatever it was that they hoped to accomplish, and return to safety all before day fell upon this city of the damned. She knew for a fact that, at the very least, the youngest of the troupe wasn’t going to survive the daylight.

The Shadow seemed to sense that she was thinking about her, or so she thought, watching as the girl moved to her side without so much as a word. There was quite a distance between them, but that was more than alright. She wasn’t sure she could handle another outbreak like the one before in silence. She usually worked her best to make people like her, and was always pleasant with anyone she wasn’t directly trying to eviscerate, so she wasn’t entirely sure what the girl’s problem might have been, but it had unsettled her. That, most likely, was a part of being an Allurist. She was still coming to grips with the wild storms of emotions that would come upon her like a summer squall, fast and intense, and vanishing just as quickly as they had come. Almost anything could set her off.

It made her feel better, at least, that she wasn’t the only one dealing with this problem. Skylar’s outburst before their trip up the elevator had actually made her feel better. It was nice, knowing that she wasn’t the only one that sometimes just couldn’t keep things under control. She took a slow drag of her cigarette, letting the warm tingling of the nicotine spread through her lungs as she held her breath. She could have stood there forever, riding the buzz, but she exhaled, blowing the smoke into the air over her head as she turned to the girl at her side and gave her a silent smile. She said nothing to her, and turned back to where Doc and Juliet still stood, him trying to convince her to approach the apartment.

She couldn’t say how long they might have been in there, her own trip upstairs taking a few minutes to collect her weaponry, but she could understand the impatience; the eagerness to be underway. She could still feel the ripples of that seething moment of hatred in the lobby, the way that the red hot rage still tugged at the fringes of her nerves. That feeling always seemed to be there, her hate for these paladins running as deep as her bones, a black scar upon her soul that she would never see healed. She let her own icy blue stare move to the closed door, shifting her weight so that the heavy .50 caliber rifle shifted with her, resting against her side rather than her shoulder. The ported barrel rested against her cheek, pushing against the soft, satiny skin.

I will only need it once. Just before I jump into the fray. That’s where I really belong.

She wasn’t quite skilled with a blade like the others might be. Sure, she could block, and swing a knife like anyone else, but when she watched the swordplay between some of the people that proclaimed themselves ‘masters,’ she knew she didn’t stand a chance with her little stiletto. She, instead, had grasped what she came to call gun fu. Acrobatic, beautiful, deadly, it was a dance of sorts; a way to incorporate her flexibility and speed into her art. The small PPK nuzzled against her breast was her true weapon of choice with a small caliber and extreme accuracy, the incredibly small pistol was suited perfectly for her style of combat.

The knife she carried was, mostly, incorporated into a parry, pushing away the blows of her attackers. It was a wild, fast paced style, both high energy and high risk, but one that she had taken to almost immediately. With her knowledge and skill with people, she could read an opponent and feint with the best. It was with no small amount of pride that she claimed an incredible ability to lie, to deceive. She ran an entire ring of drug running businesses, and had been for more than a year, without anyone catching on to just how she was bringing in so much money. That was her secret.

She shifted her foot lightly, resting the weight on the thin spike of her heel as she turned her ankle one way, and then the other, testing the feel of the knife against her leg, making sure that it was still there. When she stood still too long, or wore the damn thing too much, she would sometimes get used to feeling it there, and would forget that she was wearing it, or would think that she had dropped it someplace along the way. She felt the cool steel shift against her skin and she was satisfied, letting the toe of her boot drop again. She shook her head, unoccupied hand lifting to push her freshly manicured nails through her hair, scraping along her scalp as she kept her cool. As she tried to keep her cool.

When did waiting become so hard?

She flicked at her cigarette again, sending another flake of ash floating to the floor as she reached into her pocket and held out the pack of cigarettes and her precious lighter to the woman at her side. She didn’t use words, rather letting the offer speak for itself. A sort of peace offering between herself and the girl. She had no idea if River smoked, but she thought that, at least, she should try and make friends with a few of the crew before they all dropped boots into a situation where their lives may very well depend on one another.

Right now, she was the weakest of the relations in the group, the easiest to turn sacrificial lamb if the situation went tits up. Frankly, she wasn’t likely to go out quietly, either. There was going to be blood, and honestly, if some of it was going to be hers, she was certainly alright with that.