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Post by Krakenbox on Oct 5, 2021 20:46:42 GMT -8
Different groups were being flushed from the city, splintering the Entitlement under different pack leaders in a web of loud radio traffic and explosive gang violence under focused Loki's purview. When Henley offered the chopper, the Arrayer happily delivered on a decommissioned Gatling gun, in which Wayland promptly fixed and adhered to the vessel. With enough information, Gavin successfully pinged a gathering that was entertaining high rollers looking for bigger pots than just legal tender, while Henley weaved his multilingual prowess and privileged wealth, and Yuan worked his blessing to fully integrate the trio. They all had enough knowledge of the underworld to not draw suspicions. Aster loomed, shark teeth not completely losing their touch through the Mask as a reliable bruiser in the mix. Honestly, it was harder than normal to carry any conversation that deviated from their target, and any qualms of being too obvious was buried in instinct and the rush of reward when they sniffed a lead.
Wayland seemed swept up in the spirit too, upgrading the helicopter by hammering in her Jewels. Yuan was provided with a longarm that the slim Beast was surprisingly comfortable with as he joined Henley in aerial spotting alongside Sweeney's excited death grip on his own contribution. Gavin and Aster arranged themselves on the ground to report as a controlled leak forced the muscle car to rip from its base of operations, containing the coyote they were looking for with not only the Mojave coordinates from the trafficking operation, but the operations where people were being moved. A hail of bullets weaved around the Avowed as he made a break for it, flushing rats from their nest, and a surprise Hedgewall erupting through concrete before leaps and super speed could nab him, resulting in a final ploy of invisibility as his getaway vehicle sped to meet him.
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Post by Henley on Oct 6, 2021 13:04:42 GMT -8
"Hold on!"
The roar of the helicopter's engines intensified as the Ogre grit his teeth, sending the vehicle into a dive and yawed to the left, pulling around a building's roof to allow Yuan an ideal angle to take his shot and tag the vehicle. His reflexes felt like they were on fire, every little sensation of movement precise as he worked the stick with supernatural expertise by the will of the Hunt. Suddenly, they were in a hover, allowing the Beast a window.
"Yuan, now!"
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Hua Yuan
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Presence 2 - Nostalgic; SL 1 - Flawless
Posts: 304
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Post by Hua Yuan on Oct 6, 2021 13:46:14 GMT -8
Yuan vaguely remembered this sensation. It was rushing down the highway in the desert over the speed limit. It was friction of bodies losing themselves to passion. It was the taste of iron in his mouth. He'd never wielded something so obvious before, but it was surprisingly light despite its size. His hands found their grip along the stock of the rifle as if it were an old lover. Henley was true to his word. The copter flew steadily, the jerking of the rotors somehow natural and easy to follow. There was only the cadence of his breathing, the sight of his target in the scope and the flirting of his finger on the trigger. Bang.
The shot thundered as the bullet raced to its query.
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Post by Aster Blau on Oct 6, 2021 20:43:03 GMT -8
Partnered alongside Gavin, Aster seemed easily in her element, the lethality of her form on display via claws and serpentine fangs. She speaks little of matters outside of the hunt unless necessary, focused on the task at hand as Gavin leads in the tracking of their quarry. Now and then, Aster spoke with her own insights as she and Gavin observed the break and reported on the movements of the fleeing trafficker. Stray-Aster Blau — Today at 10:41 PM AH: Cry Havoc - Assist Gavin in navigating Wits+Streetwise+WP [10:41 PM] @dicecord-CoD roll 8 9again
Dicecord-CoD BOT — Today at 10:41 PM Stray-Aster Blau rolled 8 dice and got 2 successes. 5 5 7 1 1 9(7) 4 10(5)
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Post by Gavin Graves on Oct 6, 2021 21:18:57 GMT -8
He was like a coiling spring ready to launch. The very idea of standing and waiting and watching at the time was eating at him. The urge to run freely in chase was a powerful and ever-present companion brought on by the blessings of the Ashen Hunt. Several times he casually suggested they maybe just go for it ahead of the scheduled plan. A wild manic energy was barely contained in the Beast's jittery frame. Aster focusing on the task gave him an outlet to keep himself from running off on his own. Bouncing ideas back and forth with the fellow Courser they had come to a good if somewhat rushed estimate of the slavers' likely travel route. They'd eliminated the dead ends and rural roads he knew their choice of vehicle couldn't traverse reliably. They had been flushed from one direction by the avowed, which narrowed the traffickers' options considerably.
Gavin signaled the place to position the chopper to get a good bird's eye view.
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Post by Wayland on Oct 7, 2021 10:41:21 GMT -8
(bang-bang bang-bang bang-bang)
Wayland hears the phantom metal-striking-metal sound of her heartbeat hammering in her chest clearly, even over the thunderous roar of motorcycle’s engine as she revs it and rips down the road. The muscle car’s answering shriek reeks of desperation, caught between her and Loki, with the dull thudding of the overhead chopper inescapable, closing in for the kill. Her blood is pumping, and she can feel her lips pulled back from white teeth in a grin that makes her skeletal war-paint come alive with bare-skulled glee.
Riding has never been like this before. It’s been relaxing. It’s been exciting, with speed and maneuvering. But it has never been this mad, bloodthirsty, yearning hunger. She has felt this before, though. She knows it. It happens sometimes, when she’s lost herself in a fight. When she’s stopped thinking, and focused only on acting. On winning. And there’s something deeper there. Something tickling at her memory. She knows hunger. Oh yes, she knows the ecstatic thrill of the hunt, the trap waiting to be sprung, the anticipation of blood to be spilled.
A side-mirror shatters into fragments of mirror and fiberglass in the wake of the passing of her axe, the startling violence of it forcing the car’s driver back and away, off a possible escape route. Riding with a blade in your hand would not normally be a good idea. But Wayland left normal behind a long time ago. She laughs, eyes darting over the car to check on Loki on the opposite side. They have to work in concert here, to keep the prey pinned.
That’s part of what she wanted when she volunteered for this hunt. To get a better read on Loki. They’d never spent much time together before, and that clash at Beltane left her… confused, uncertain, worried. About him. About herself. This seemed like a good idea to figure out if there was a problem they’d need to address. But it’s not the only reason she’s here. Loyalists, traffickers; people who sell out their own. Normally, Wayland tries to be understanding of people’s circumstances, but this is a threat that needs to be stopped. Deserves to be stopped. And now that she’s here, with the Pact’s flame crackling in her veins, that part seems like it’s all that matters.
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Post by Krakenbox on Oct 11, 2021 15:13:55 GMT -8
Changelings flaunt the fact that they live parallel realities, celebrating a balance as they reveled in magic miracles admits the hard limits of bright, mundane joys. What they didn't like to talk about was what the true nature of Faerie truly meant underneath the beauty and unbound riddles—intangible forces of raw, natural chaos that once brought the human imagination to rituals and bonds to protect and placate. Like Prometheus, the power of tyrants was theirs to seize and bestow wonders or retribution. The rise of Fall reminded them. The cruelty of Ogres and predation of Beasts were on full display, and it truly was a moving experience. Gavin's usual manic energy had been concentrated into the desperate keening of a hungry predator, buzzing over the radio as Aster's cold-blooded calm relayed streets and landmarks to the boots on the ground and herding the target to the hunters. As backup tried to interfere, the pair lunged and culled, picking off stragglers who broke and ran as the steam off the blood ran iridescent in offering to the Season of Dread. For Loki, the world always moved a little slower. The Elemental's mind skipped and flashed, burning through information at speeds his allies couldn't comprehend with twitch reflexes and honed instinct. Explaining his measures would take an eternity—the flame already leaping to feast and grow rather than die to spent embers. In the stream of calls, Sin City's underworld was on fire. The sower of chaos and illusion blanketed Vegas' resources as the madness of the Freehold moved beneath the smokescreen, and as Henley's disguised helicopter thundered overhead, no one blinked. It dove low, weaving through the steel and concrete husks of failed city projects before emerging to cut off the highway exit and spinning to hover an angled parallel to the vehicle's windshield, the glint of Yuan's bestial eyes catching the headlights as he rocked with the torque and aimed in the precious seconds. The slam of Wayland's axe and wild laughter was answered with a teeth grinding shriek of metal, the Fireheart lighting up underneath the black helm as the cold iron chain was scraped along the side of the vehicle in synched intimidating display. His hand moved, turning the gouge of paint into a cursive scrawl of three letters. 𝓪 𝓼 𝓱 The Knight Commander gestured for Wayland to break, charging ahead himself as the motorcycle roared and lifted, with the Maker picking up on the maneuver as she hauled ass and swung her own bike to thunder further in front and cut off the muscle car. She carried Arcadia's Jewels, and knew a Naming when she saw it. The glass shattered with a bullet striking the driver in a blooming gout of crimson, sending the steel death trap careening straight towards Wayland and Loki. The hand that could still hold magic shot forward, as the tires turned so violently at the behest of a new master, that the entire machine flipped and skidded wheels-up harmlessly past them. Loki being able to make those sorts of calculations as fast as he did came as a surprise, or maybe he was just mad and stupid. The fire spread as he dove in, dragging the Avowed from the wreck with supernatural strength while Wayland leveraged the frame so it wouldn't collapse. Henley buzzed over the radio that he could send the agent to sleep, but Loki answered by violently headbutting the trafficker. It sparked an idea, however. As Wayland hurried along burning the evidence, the prisoner was handed off to Aster. The Venombite and Razorhand leapt onto the helicopter and the two bikers were to vacate the highway, but not before Loki wrapped the chain and beheaded the burning driver, tossing the trophy to Yuan. They would all need one by the end of the night.
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Post by Krakenbox on Oct 11, 2021 15:54:55 GMT -8
As Yuan worked his uncanny magic on the mortal's mind that he was indeed among friends, it was clear the Avowed was under conditioned memory wipe, or sworn to a deadly secret. Loki sighed.
Bastion cracking was another way to get locked information.
Henley spoke Spanish, but he would be needed to knock everyone out. Aster confirmed she spoke the language and held some basic rapport with the Cartel, and Yuan's skills were above and beyond just Sweeney leaning on the fact that he was a recognizable face for black market dealers. Loki would continue to coordinate other hunting parties and the Chevaliers as they got what they needed, while Gavin and Wayland prepped emergency kits in case things went to shit in the Mojave. Swearing a dreamer's pledge against the dangers that lurked beyond, Loki then checked in with Yuan's superior medical knowledge about safe chemical application to time knocking the trio out in timed sequence. Sweeney voices to triple his dose, due to some natural resistances. Turns out the Fireheart commando knew some chemistry.
After going through the man's jacket and pockets, Wayland and Gavin are provided with a strange collection of baubles and scraps of paper with scrawled statements that seemed to hold no connection to one another.
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Post by stray on Oct 11, 2021 16:11:28 GMT -8
Assist: Stray-Aster Blau — Today at 6:06 PM Crystal Havoc: Assist Yuan in plying the prisoners subconscious Man+Pers+WP [6:07 PM] @dicecord-CoD roll 6 9again Dicecord-CoD BOT — Today at 6:07 PM Stray-Aster Blau rolled 6 dice and got 3 successes. 7 6 1 9(3) 2 10(9)(6) Clarity rolls: Stray-Aster Blau — Today at 6:07 PM Cry* Havoc: Clarity Attack roll [6:07 PM] @dicecord-CoD roll 4
Dicecord-CoD BOT — Today at 6:07 PM Stray-Aster Blau rolled 4 dice and got 1 success. 5 8 7 1
Stray-Aster Blau — Today at 6:18 PM Cry Havoc: Clarity Damage? [6:19 PM] @dicecord-CoD roll 1
Dicecord-CoD BOT — Today at 6:19 PM Stray-Aster Blau rolled 1 dice and got 0 successes. 7 Stray-Aster Blau rolls like a dairy farmer.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Oct 11, 2021 23:05:16 GMT -8
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Post by Henley on Oct 12, 2021 9:55:38 GMT -8
Perhaps it was the murder-drug that the Ashen Hunt poured into their hearts through the ritual, but the wild-eyed pilot kept it together. This was real. This was how it was meant to be, right? Patrolling the border, keeping the escapees in? The Ogre was on fire with the magic of the mixing of Wrath and Terror, and his magic was just as on fire, driving their quarry toward sleep like a vengeful Sandman.
Beunas noches...
"Find 'em. Sweeney needs his dream cannon. Don't you, buddy?"
His voice was manic, gleeful, the ritual tinging everything with a bit of red. The Hunt needed fear, and the Vietnam-era M249 minigun attached to the helicopter was one of the most iconic anti-personnel weapons of its era.
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Hua Yuan
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Presence 2 - Nostalgic; SL 1 - Flawless
Posts: 304
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Post by Hua Yuan on Oct 12, 2021 15:21:54 GMT -8
Balefire danced in his eyes as liquid light flowed through his veins. Holding his trophy by the hair, Yuan squatted next to his victim with the most innocent of smiles. The thing about predation was that it came in different kinds. Sometimes, it was a bullet shot from an uncanny angle. Other times, it was honey words laced with the madness of Arcadia.
You are safe.
You are among friends.
The white dandelion seeds of his Mantle whirled in a storm of soft promises that dulled the sense of impending danger. The canines that could rip flesh were suddenly quirky and not dangerous. The racing heartbeat was excitement at the prospect of meeting friends and not survival instinct pleading for escape.
The mortal had absolutely nothing to worry about.
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Post by Wayland on Oct 13, 2021 13:03:40 GMT -8
When the party dismounts, collecting the trophies and prey-sign they'd gathered from the wreckage of their first kill, Wayland takes a moment to lock eyes with Henley, sharp-toothed grin still splitting her lips as she thrusts her silver index finger her fellow ogre, arm a straight line like a spear. Her head tilts just once in a satisfied nod, as if she's pointing out without words how well they were working together just now, before her arm drops back to her side and she returns to the obsession still burning in her blood; there is more quarry to run down.
It feels good to be the hunter, and not the prey. Wrath inciting Fear. This is why she joined the Summer court. The agency and strength and will to face down their tormentors and say; 'It's your turn to be afraid.'She joins Gavin as they pour over the 'evidence' as it were.
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Post by Krakenbox on Oct 16, 2021 11:37:59 GMT -8
Gavin was practically shuddering, on the edge of loosing himself on the prisoner as forgotten memories meld the room to sand and sun. Wayland keeps his focus in the right direction, jingling the items for the Beast to root through with the promise of better hunting if he waits. Wayland offered folklore prompts: Bible passages torn in neat strips to leave behind in your wake, warding against faeries; rune stones for divining; a tooth with a silver filling...they all had imagery and connection to that of the Tuatha Dé Danann, but it seemed largely useless on the surface. An Avowed had some superstitions, so what? The insight of Autumn revealed itself as Gavin started babbling about Key Smiths and the wild call of the Thorns, where Faerie always calls you back. Neither were experts on what an Avowed was, other than they were humans touched by the Gentry and could wield basic Contracts with Lost instruction, but the idea of addiction to magic and seeking power coalesced with a coyote operation.
They needed more information, looking to Yuan, Aster, and the Arrayer as the prisoner was blasted with Henley's eager Contract. Yuan could physically step into a Bastion, but he wasn't looking to teleport and wanted the other two with him. Drugging felt like a bell being struck with a hammer, crashing through the Avowed's Gate of Ivory with shaking images and a violent plunge. Between the three of them, the nightmare of screeching shadows swarming crows was spun and overwhelmed. So focused on their target, the unconscious idea of the Self was on display with their Dream Avatars. For all his jovial affect as the Nice member of Ricochet, Sweeney was particularly intimidating as the grey shock of a corpse cried oil slick tears and billowed corrosive shadows that screamed and clawed from violent burns. The Playmate plagued the mortal's mind as he nested his magic into the Bastion, altering his personality just enough for the psyche to accommodate an alliance, rather than eject the threat. As the conversation played out in a language he could understand and eidolons Aster and Sweeney could pull ideas from, they exited with coordinates and an understanding that the man had been crippled by the call of the Hedge and the Lost who was tied to his fate had tried to trade him for freedom.
Addiction for the fae-touched had interesting ways of manifesting, and with Loki's experience the hunting party could conclude that these weren't Loyalists—the Avowed sometimes find each other and with a similar mission: find a way back into the Hedge. The changelings call them Key Smiths, for they seek out gate keys, and sometimes kidnapped the Lost under threat of iron to open the way to and from Faerie.
The bags were packed, and they were ready to go.
The Mojave bunker was leftover from nuclear tests of old, going beneath the surface of the sand-blasted research facility. Henley wanted to flush them out while staying as the pilot, and Sweeney was ready with the Gatling gun to pick off any runners and vehicles. Loki explained he can torch the complex and rip through the building with the talents one would expect, but would hold off due to potential hostages.
Wayland offered to use her Brownie's blessing and invisibility to do a sweep with the prisoner being released to plant a mirror Yuan could exit through and claim territory for extraction. The others would need to provide the violent distraction, then once the group was out, they could rain hell on the inevitable lockdown. Or they could forgo magic all together so they wouldn't risk the lethality of using their glamour outside the Wards.
What was more important?
The Spirit said the faster, the better.
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Post by Henley on Oct 17, 2021 9:25:00 GMT -8
Henley wiggled the rain hat and boots he had packed, the catch for Spring's blessing that would bring down some a biblical Flood. He was good for magic use. The lives of innocents depended on it.
"It's going to hurt, but this is the price of power. Best honor Autumn's lesson and get this done right."
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