[Dead Heading] The Problem With Slugs

Delicate, scaled fingers wrapped around the steering wheel of Ivory's 2016 BMW M3. It was a well maintained vehicle and, given by the cleanliness of the interior, well loved by the dragon.

Absent, however, was Ivory's usual road-going chatter. Even the radio was off. Instead the Fairest focused on the the task at hand, following Oren's directions as they followed behind the car containing their chosen target.

Agrippa's phone buzzes with an update that the message was received, along with a quick response from the AWOL Fairest.


It was now 6:35. The Helldiver was familiar enough that unless Mitchell was lying with his phone conveniently turned off, he could be talking about being on another plane where signals wouldn't have reached him.

The phone continued to update, messages coming in as the delays finally relayed from the cell tower.


The man was responding to Maria, moving close and nodding for her to get back into the vehicle, her expression was just as surprised but she didn't put up a protest.

Ivory relaxed in her driving seat relaxing back and looking to Agrippa.

"This neighborhood isn't exactly my usual scene," she admits, "I doubt I'll recognize anyone if I'm honest... What I see is Maria getting back into the car and I don't think Briefcase is."

Turning her attention briefly back to the mysterious pair, Ivory had to wonder if they had been made, but she didn't see anything to suggest it. 


"The briefcase sure seems important though," she mused. To Agrippa's suggestion there's a pause.

"I'm not comfortable sending you in there by yourself, we still don't know who we're dealing with," she says, "If there's a Lost in there that can suss you out..."

Well the implication was plain enough to be unsaid. The Springs weren't in the comforts of well-to-do territories or on the strip. They were dealing with criminal elements in Whitney and their had been signs of people circumventing the Freehold Oath before, not to mention the possibility of foreign Lost, especially considering the Onyx Court of LA's recent interests. Sure that had mostly been centered around Buck, but that didn't mean their illustrious sovereign would stop there. 

Then a look to her companions.

"How do we want to play this? Wait and see or do we want to try and get in there?" the Pale Dragon asked, gilded eyes looking to "Penrose"* and Agrippa, "Or do we want Agrippa to poke around by themself? There's risk every which way."

"Having one active agent gives us plenty of room to improvise. If we send them in and let them rummage, our hands are free."

This was one of those rare moments where Penrose had more at his disposal. Antlers, they may be, but useful all the same. Letting Agrippa take point would also give him the opportunity to scour the field for Glamour, a resource, upon further introspection, was something he greatly lacked. It was fair to say he was running on fumes. Wearing a bit thin. 

He could always count on the spilling of blood. Good for the circulation. And he could use the exercise.  

Agrippa bit their lower lip, suddenly being met with the reality that their suggestion would leave this party well and truly split. Even if everything went swimmingly there was no guarantee that they would be able to find their way back to the rest of the crew after they were done snooping, and they knew as well as Ivory that things going well was a shaky gamble at best. It had always been a dangerous proposal, but now that their mark wasn't sticking around, the potential risks seemed to outweigh the benefits. They shook their head.

"If she's not sticking around then I better not. Its a bank and a handcuffed suitcase. No prizes for who can guess what is most likely there. If I get nothing out of it then I'd be stranded here for nothing, and if it goes wrong..."

They grimaced, trailing off to let the obvious implications speak for themselves, echoing Ivory's own voicing of concern

"Most likely I'll be more useful to you here. We can check the bank later, if we need to. Won't catch them in the act, but plying the details from the tel-"

Their phone interrupted them mid-sentence, nearly causing them to jump from their seat. They slid the thing out of their pocket, swiped the screen, and blinked.

"Oh. Oh dear."

It took a moment for their expression to catch up with the deep concern in their voice, as they concentrated on sending out a response

"Mitch is saying he's been shot. I'm texting Riley."

Agrippa's finger streaks droplets of blood as their screen and face is sprayed, followed by Ivory's surprised gasp and shattering glass. It takes another second to register the Pale Dragon's left arm was exposed in a shock of white bone and retracting nerves. The shards of the window rain into their laps, and another pop less than a second later causes the vehicle to rock with another blown tire from behind.

Melnyk's vehicle burns rubber, weaving around slower drivers and incoming traffic.

The screams of pedestrians begin to fill the background of their ringing ears as an active shooter is registered by the masses.