She couldn't say she was surprised to find everyone on edge, but Parael opening the door with a sword pointed at her meat suit's heart was not entirely expected. Still, for the time being it passed as amusing.

"Thank you for the offer but I'm already dead," Beth responded after his initial comment. She cast her gaze about the room, taking in everyone she suspected were there, before stepping inside. She offered Parael a small smile. "You're forgiven."

Most of the people in the room were familiar faces, especially the demi-god and Flint. Oh, he appeared to be irritated. She liked that; she grinned. Already several jibes bounced around her head, begging to be uttered in his direction. She kept her lips sealed, however, to catch herself up on the conversation at hand. For now it was perhaps safer in numbers. Unless the dread mummy himself sought them out, she and the others could easily hold their own against Nemsemet's minions.

Before Antonio replied, Beth felt another's energy growing closer out of the fog of her senses until it reached the door, where it stilled. She didn't know much about Parael's wards on the place, but whoever it was, she was not the only member of the group to recognise another presence; Antonio pointed out the eavesdropper as he spoke, tapping his nose.

Beth smirked and moved away from the door. "Let's deal with this quickly, yes?" she spoke, loud enough for the newcomer to hear, should the wards not include soundproofing. "If you all want to avoid mummy dearest, that is."

Rikive put her jacket back on, glad that threat of a fight breaking out in their ranks had subsided. She did not care for the people that seemed to appear one after the other though. A bigger group meant a bigger target, especially one that was sitting still.

"I agree with the spirit and the Berserker, to some extent." She said, her hand hovering on the hilt of her sword as she eyed the door. She had heard the scuff of feet outside, but if the man was a possible ally she didn't wish to harm whoever the person was.

"We need to leave this place immediately and go somewhere that is far away and they will not think to find us. We should have been gone long before now." Frustration and fear was starting to wear her nerves down to a thin thread. "Someone decide in the next five seconds before even more people arrive 'fashionably late' to 'join the party'." She muttered, turning away to rub her temples to fight off a budding headache. "I will go anywhere that is not here."

Claudia shifted again on her perch, huffing in annoyance. If anyone were to pay attention to their surroundings, they would have noticed the strange woman kneeling on the balcony of an abandoned apartment, gun clutched in hand. But no one did, and she was allowed to work in semi-peace. As much peace as one could have when they were sent out to kill someone.

Supposed name was Karl Silverman, male, age unknown to Claudia. He was her current target. He was pretty high up on the list of to-gos, most likely because he had been a witness, and witnesses couldn't survive. The whole job would have been over already, but the man chose to stay holed up in his apartment for the time being. How boring. Claudia continued to sit kneel on the balcony, shifting every few minutes and mumbling under her breath. She hadn't brought her rifle, knowing that it was too noticeable for this part of town and too heavy to climb with. She would at least have some entertainment if she'd brought it, if cleaning large guns was your idea of fun. She had left it in her current home, an abandoned building in one of the rougher parts of town, which seemed to have multiplied since Nemsemet took over. Damn mummy.

Claudia was shaken from these thoughts by Karram peering out his window. He stayed there for a few moments, before moving. Claudia watched intently,waiting for an opportunity. Finally he left his apartment, descending the stairs. He crossed the street to one of the buildings below Claudia and several feet to the left. He seemed distracted, as if listening to someone on the other side of the door. Perfect. Claudia swung off the balcony to the street two floors below, landing silently. Her left hand slid the side arm she was holding back into its place on her belt, while her right reached around to the small of her back, grasping the knife that was sheathed there. She had brought a few different blades, most hidden. She wore a black coat that reached mid thigh, black pants, a dark blue shirt and a pair of leather boots. Around her middle was a large leather belt with several pouches and holsters, mostly for weapons, but they served other purposes.

Claudia stood slowly, analyzing her target. If she was quiet and he remained distracted, she would have a chance to surprise him and get the upper hand. Claudia creeped over, feet not making a sound. She had an odd feeling, almost as if she knew this person. She paused behind him, knife halfway out. He seemed so familiar, but she couldn't tell. It was making her frustrated. Giving up on figuring it out, Claudia fully unsheathed the knife and raised it over her shoulder, ready to deliver the killing blow and- Wait. She could hear people talking. It was loud, as if intentional. Most likely so this man could hear. So they knew there was someone outside. Claudia quickly slid her knife back into its holster before pulling a surgical mask out of one of the pouches and pulling it over her face. She silently cursed herself for not bringing a better disguise, in case anyone knew her. She pulled her coat tight around herself as if cold and stepped back several feet, waiting to see what would become of the situation.

A Day Before Autumn Arrives.

Gray stretched in his cheap foldout chair, letting out a drawn out yawn. Again he lifted binoculars to look through the narrow opening in the motel's shoddy blinds. Autumn had sent him on ahead with a decent promise of pay as usual. Gray was almost disappointed by the fact that she wasn't hiring him to hunt something in particular. There's was little information to go on. Looking at the fact that Autumn generally didn't have a "little" information to share made this mission a little unnerving. Now is a different story.

Gray focused in on a group of what appeared to be gangsters or local thugs. They'd been moving around the neighborhood way too much in the last hour. It was obvious they were looking for something and doubly so to Gray that they were involved. They slipped through another alleyway moving at a pace that didn't match the general laziness of the modern gangsters he knew. The hunter's professional opinion: They were monsters up to no good. And they weren't the first.

Gray adjusted the shoulder holsters holding the two Glocks in place underneath his arms. There was going to be action soon but not enough to suit up for quite yet. He needed to lay low and contact Autumn before getting rash. That's what he was being paid for right? After all, he hadn't witnessed this much suspicious activity since he dealt with the haunting at the old Argonne grade school in Wisconsin. Incidentally that ended with a satisfying explosion that forced the government to officially condemn it. Good times.

Gray pulled out his cell phone, went through his speed dial and hit the call button. A secretary answered and he moved his mouth to speak before suddenly stopping. There was a small gasp of air and no more. A cold shudder ran down his spine. Silence. A person on the other end said something he couldn't hear. Gray ended the call and dropped the phone on the stained carpet.

"CRAP! What the hell was that?" He spouted, venting his sudden frustration. That felt almost like what a seizure patient would describe. This was bad. Not just bad! House cat eating dead owner because he can bad. Some kind of voodoo or magic was affecting him. Whoever had that kind of power meant really bad news. Time to leave and get backup before things got worse.

Gray grabbed his one suitcase, stuffed a few loose clothes in it and headed down the stairs. "Leaving early?" The mildly attractive receptionist asked as he slowed to a more casual pace. It was always best to not be suspicious. In this line of work it didn't just mean drawing unwanted attention from enemies but also humans who didn't need to get endangered. If this power and the local activity were connected it could mean New Camden would have to hire someone to change their population marker really soon.

"Yeah. Family emergency. Dad needs some help." He lied. It was pretty convincing too. "Sorry to leave so soon. It's a nice place." That was a lie too.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Stay safe." She said. That's exactly why I'm leaving, Gray thought. He threw the suitcase into his rented suburban with the other one and hopped in. Time to get out. He was already on the edge of New Camden so it didn't take very long to leave the borders. But that would have been too easy.

The suburban's engine sputtered and died as he rolled over a hill. After some coasting and light breaking he parked the car. He got out to examine the engine and found it to be in perfectly fine condition. It simply decided it wanted to turn off on him. Looking away from town he felt that compelling and nagging feeling coming back. An unnatural chill ran down his spine and made his legs feel weak. He simply couldn't will himself to walk away. "Trapped..." He whispered, his usual lighthearted expression collapsing.

Real Time

Gray had it easy laying low. Figuring out what was going on however was more difficult when all you did was watch through your windows. He had attempted a few times to call Autumn with very little effect. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he answered to find it was in fact her. "How? I.." He paused, a little surprised that he was actually speaking. "Where can I find you?"

Karram stood from his crouched position and let out another quiet sigh as he heard several of the people inside blatantly talking about his presence. He shook his head again at his own stupidity before raising a hand to knock. Maybe they won't kill me if I just explain myself, he thought. He was just about to knock when he heard the faint rustling of someone behind him fidgeting with something. Karram quickly turned, his hand now underneath his trench coat with a firm grasp on this dagger...

It was a girl. Wearing a surgical mask? And honestly looking pretty suspicious. He could tell easily that she was up to something just from her faked posture, not to mention his immediate read on her surface emotions. Karram eyed her carefully before speaking. "May I help you?" His voice was loud enough that those inside the daycare could more than likely hear his speech. He didn't want them to be found out in the event this woman proved to be a spy for Nemsemet or what have you. His expression would remain cold and calculative as he awaited a response. Impatiently, Karram would repeat himself with a rather stern tone. "May. I. Help you?"

"Yeah, Beth, I think you and Rikive have a point. Tony, you know I'd agree with you on most things but I think Flint could be more of an asset in this situation."

And by asset, I mean he's a damn good piece of bait for all those lycans if we need to distract them. Maybe.

Though that train of thought did leave Parry a little disturbed the more he followed it. Flint was one of the better magicians in the city, had a way with modern weapons a lot of the people in the front room lacked, and to top it all off, he was permanently stuck in the 1930s Noir look- which, in Parry's opinion, was one of the best times to dress as a man in the last 150 years.

I take my previous thought back. I want Flint alive, if only to find out where he's getting all those clothes.

"So Tony, I'm ready to lock up and leave whenever you-"

Which was, of course, when the light bulbs in the foyer, living room, kitchen, bathroom - really every light bulb in the building - shifted from natural white to a tinted Blue. A neat trick, but they weren't Hue bulbs (except the ones in Parry's bedroom, and that was just so he could observe his outfits before going clubbing). Nope.

Someone outside had set off the first Wards. Warning lights, mostly, that someone had stepped on Parry's front lawn with intent to kill.

Defcon 1.

All hands on deck.

"Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE!" Parry shrieked as the light shift finished. Drawing his fairy sword again in one smooth motion and making for the door, he nodded for Rikive to take up position behind him. "I am not gonna die in here with Dirty Harry, Shaft the Tiger, and the Ghost of Christmas Past! Tony, go get the fucking cars."

Parry didn't wait to see if the Norse demi-goddess was behind him or not before opening the door. And there he stood, six feet tall, rail thin, dressed in Armani, a diaper bag over his shoulder and a silver sword raised in one arm, looking at-

- a true fairy. Karram. Always impeccably dressed. Fae were the only creatures that gave PArry a run for his money in the fashion and looks departments. Karram's designer labels could always one-up him on certain occasions and the Celestial resented him for it. But what was he doing with the drab, trenchcoat wearing, black-on-black-on-black-on-black girl.

"Oh, Karram. Join the gods-damned party. Is this your girlfriend? Honey, no, all that leather! So not you! How many cows died for that horrid outfit. Lets get you to the West Side mall for some-"

Wards.

Intent to kill.

Demon mummy.

Can change her wardrobe later.

Must focus!

"Right," Parry said, snapping his train of thought off. "Which one of you came here to murder me?"

To be fair, the Wards only detected intent to harm on the premises. They didn't necessarily imply that Parry was the target. But being it was his property, and Parry thought of himself as the center of all life, happiness, fashion and trends in this horrid city, it wasn't too far an assumption for him to make.

Flint ignored the casual remarks aimed his way, he wasn’t here to persuade anyone, and he was just offering his services for what he thought was the greater good. Tony enjoyed bugging him, even the nickname ‘whitey’ added a childishness to his family name which he hated.

As more people entered the building, the more Flint knew he needed to leave, with or without the current group. He stood up and pocketed the silver coin as he began to speak.

“Well it’s up to you guys, I’m not making you go anywhere, and if any lycanthropes come around I will deal with them personally”

Flint’s voice was plagued with a hint of self-doubt at the last comment. He was confident he could take down one were-being, as long as he wasn’t taken by surprise, but more than that and he wasn’t so sure. The ferocity of the attacks, and the speed and power. Flint preferred not to think about it. It was times like this that the weight of the revolver under his arm was reassuring.

Around this thought the lights tinted blue, Flint was confused, but realised what the situation meant when Parry exclaimed aloud. At that moment Flint’s first instinct was to go for his gun, but Tony and the rest didn’t take too kindly to that last time so instead he flicked his wrist and a fist sized flame began to hover a inch above his palm. He held it there as the door opened and idle chit chat continued.

Flint was heavily confused by Parry’s tone, and wasn’t sure what was to happen next. He decided to walk next to Parry, fireball in hand, and see who was outside. Waiting for what to do next in the new situation. He recognised the man at the door, but could not quite remember from where.

"Hey man, don't look at me. I didn't bring a Mormon van along. I came here in a Toyota because..." well, because his usual ride was just a little too easy to tail and he wasn't expecting to stick around and grab people.

He raised an eyebrow at surgical mask girl and made sure to clear the line of sight and fire between him and Flint, just in case. He did it with just a bit of a smirk, but managed to hold off on gesturing with a flourish, like a matador letting a bull through. Suddenly, they had bigger problems than Flint and some hitter at the doorstep; there was a familiar sound that wasn't quite a shotgun blast, and then the shriek of a rocket.

"DOWN DOWN DOWN!" he yelled even as he dove for ground and he didn't give a fuck what got broken when he went for the best cover he could locate in a pinch -- the memories were there and so were the reflexes, but it wasn't aimed for them. Still, the concussion from the blasts cracked and broke windows and rocked a building not designed to actually withstand a B-40 or something goddamn close to it. He didn't know who he yanked down hard to the ground like that, but it was the old infantryman's reflex, and it brought back all the bad memories.

Instead, his car went up. It took a few tries to blow one of the other cars, but apparently they had goddamn rockets to spare. Not to mention the ammo; Tony tried to peek over a window a bit and the suppression fire started.

It was an attack with an utter disregard for the Concealment Edict, but it was effective and kept the fighting at a range -- the supernatural community tended to work with swords and claws, maybe handguns at most, not heavy weaponry. Whoever designed the attack knew that outright urban combat was way outside of the expectations and preparations of the supernatural community. It was the rare member of it that prepared for attacks that belonged in Khost Province, Afghanistan here in New Camden.

"Parael, you got a back door out of this fuckin' place, man?" He howled over the din, because the guys firing the shit weren't gonna hear what they had to say anyway; they must have been fifty yards away at least, probably more. You had to be loud to be heard in a fight, and that's why Tony was shouting.

Flint had only seconds to react, and in that second he was back in the trenches, shells hitting around him, the fear of gas attacks at any moment. His reflexes only had a moment to kick in and luckily he didn’t waste them shitting his pants.

Flint was down on the floor, bringing Parry down with him as a barricade of pure stone erupted through the floorboards of the room. It wasn’t enough to stop the rocket, but it kept Flint and those around him in one piece. The fire in his hand had quickly extinguished when he had grabbed parry and Flint rushed for his revolver, hoping his car down the street hadn’t been a target. He popped his head up only for it to nearly be blown off, he had no idea where the fire was coming from and knew the house didn’t have much left for structural integrity.

He raised a few more dirt barricades which began to be peppered and broken down almost instantly, he rapidly fired his revolver into a general direction, more than likely hitting nothing but possibly making the other side keep their heads down.He began to reload as he yelled to the others

“My car should be down the street, round the corner. It probably isn’t there anymore but it might be worth a shot, unless anyone else has a better idea”

By the time he finished he was fully loaded and firing off some more blind shots, the noise of the gun booming with its high caliber loads, wishing he had brought one of his sten gun’s. He soon began to calculate that he was probably the only one here with a long range weapon, and that made him regret even more not bringing more guns.

The change in light came as an interesting development. Beth had not the slightest idea how Parael's wards worked, or even what kinds of wards he placed over the building. But of course whatever he did had to have some sort of flair, even minor as the blue light was. No matter what happened, they could place their trust in that at least. The knowledge of yet another presence outside, and one that carried unsavoury intentions, sparked a desire in her to ditch the meat suit. A desire which grew stronger when Parael drew his sword and made for the door, followed by a lit up Flint.

Wait-- what had he called her? The Ghost of Christmas Past, how original.

I resent that, Beth thought but withheld from speaking. She put away "Dirty Harry" for use another day, though. Increasingly aware of her meat suit's uselessness in the event of a fight, she marched off in search of a back room. She would never dream of abandoning a body in Parael's place of work,  even in times such as these, but the street outside would have to do.

The back door was quite easy to find via a storeroom, and with the boys providing a distraction, she slipped out into the cold air. She walked a short way from the building, keeping it in her sights, and deposited the body behind a dumpster. "Sorry old man," she muttered to the unconscious fellow slumped against the brick wall. Freed from the limitations of a physical form, Beth turned back towards the building.

That was when the blast shook the ground she stood on. Her instinct was to become intangible, and she did. Her body passed through a collection of bins on its way down. She fell into the ground and reappeared some way from the front of the daycare center. Flames engulfed cars on the opposite side of the street and bits of debris slid across the ground towards her. Beth couldn't see who started firing the shots through the black smoke, but she felt a bullet zip through her form. She dove behind the nearest wall and tried to focus on their energies.

Rikive covered her ears against the sharp shriek the filled the air. Were they being attacked by a banshee? The thought just crossed her mind when she was savagely pulled onto the ground. She covered her head after the explosion shook the ground like an earthquake, bits of plaster and glass falling on her head. As the loud gunfire rang out she removed her arms to look around the room at her companions. They all seemed alive, for now.

She knew and understood gun's well by now, many television programs seemed fascinated with them. But those punny weapons were weak and cowardly; as a Norse deity she would not be cowed by such dishonorable weapons. If mortals could be hit with these and continue fighting as they had on television, then she could as well!

"Bloody, cowards!" She growled, getting her hands underneath her. "Why do they not fight us face to face!? I will cut off their-" As she spoke she started to get up and one bullet slammed into her shoulder. It exploded out the other side, spraying her blood on the floor. Fiery pain erupted across her torso and she quickly dropped back down to the ground before she was hit again, her hand gripping the wound. "Fucking...bastards! Cowards!" She gritted her teeth, feeling her body starting to heal the injury but by the nine worlds it hurt! She had once been ran through with a sword and the pain had been nothing like this!

@Necrophage


Looking out of the window of her penthouse Arachne surveyed the city. It may be more visible than most locations but in some cases that was an advantage. From here she could see things coming. And most of the other creatures would not risk being seen. It was about time to get in contact with some of those that she'd sent ahead. Having tracked him down she began her trip to Grey's location. Calling up him he seemed rather surprised to hear from her. Getting to the point she answered his question. "New Camden. I am on my way to you now. We need to talk." Ending the conversation there was not unusual for her. Most of their encounters were just as brief. As Grey would know she did not trust technology for communicating details.

The fact that she had found him so quickly was probably unsettling. But what's more was she was going to him. That was something that never happened. A call would come in and she would tell him she had some contract work that needed doing. He would either go to her or meet up with one of her assistants. It must be something leagues more important if she was going to the trouble of trekking to his work environment.

It was only minutes before she actually arrived, not leaving much time to chance should anyone have picked up on the call. Overly cautious? Not in their line of work. And for sure not given the situation surrounding the entire city. She slid a note under the door with a message that Grey would recognize. Waiting quietly at the door Autumn had her arms crossed. She still doned her usual business attire and to anyone else she was just a woman on her way back home from work.

Claudia stiffened as the man turned to look at her, obviously reaching for his weapon. She cocked an eyebrow at his demands, communicating her disapproval and exasperation as she crossed her arms over her chest. He knew she was there, which meant one of two things. Either he wasn't as human as she'd thought, which which would explain the odd déjà vu or she wasn't as good at hiding as she'd thought. It had to be the former, as the latter was simply ridiculous. She was like a shadow, no one could catch her. Right? She was shaken from her musing as the door burst open, revealing an odd sight to behold. In the door way stood a tall man with long blond hair and wielding both a sword and a diaper bag. Claudia flinched and hissed at the intruder, caught off guard. She felt odd at this person, as if physically repelled. He wasn't human, his odd swords and too-sparkly-to-be-human hair made that clear, and by what Claudia's instincts told her, he was probably from the opposite of where she was from.

After recovering from her shock, Claudia chose to give Parry an incredulous stare. He said something about leather and dead cows, and Claudia felt slightly offended at the insult to her wardrobe. This is what she had, sorry if it didn't fit in with snobby rich people standards... Finally the man paused in his gibberish to question the two at his doorstep. Instead of answering him, she went over the pieces of information he had given her, before pausing. Had he just called this man Karram? Claudia narrowed her eyes, slowly turning her head to glare at Karram. So this man was the same one who had put her in jail, made her lose Tom? Grief clawed up her throat, feeling like it would choke her. Anger mixed with the grief, creating a dangerous mix inside of her. She knew that it wasn't his fault Tom had died, but if she had been there she could have stopped it. And because of this man, she wasn't. All the more reason to kill him.

More people shuffled towards the door. Great, just what she needed today. A scene. Claudia opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by a distant whistling, steadily growing louder until it had become a shriek. She turned in time for the first explosion. Cursing, she shoved Karram backwards. This was herkill. She had received the order to take him out, and she felt that she deserved it. No way were these rocket-firing idiots going to blow up their asses. She kneeled down, quickly shedding the uncomfortable coat and grabbing two guns, firing at whatever shooters she could see in front of her. It was like some of the territory disputes her gang had with others, only with more explosions. There was a sudden sharp pain in her calf, before what felt like fire shot through her leg. Of course she had been shot. Ducking to the side, she checked her wound and reloaded. It wasn't as bad as other things she'd been through, but having a bullet in your leg still wasn't rainbows and sunshine as mortals put it.

The call was short and to the point. Autumn always did have a good sense of purpose. Another reason to add to the list on why Gray worked with her.

Shy footsteps treaded down the hallway so Gray took a stance next to the door and drew one of his Glocks. He was expecting Autumn to arrive soon but caution didn't hurt. Instead of knocking she slipped a piece of paper beneath the door which he didn't completely expect. Scooping it up, he read it off quickly and confirmed it had to be her. Holding the handgun close to his chest he unbolted the deadlock and pulled the door open. He motioned her inside while glancing down either side of the hallway before closing the door. It didn't matter to how she found him so quickly.

Gray kept his voice to a moderate level as he started going through details. "Strange to see you in person on the job. Last time this happened was on the ghoul job in Vancouver." A smile streaks across his face. "They had good spaghetti." Ghouls generally had the same traits as zombies except they were fast and smart. That group almost outplayed Gray using the abandoned tunnels. Clearing his throat he went to business. "I'll tell you what I know so far." Gray lowered his voice so that only she could hear. Crappy walls were a hazard but the place was affordable and defensible - mostly. "There's a sorcerer or witch doctor of ridiculous power out there. I can't leave and I doubt you can now. I tried earlier. Felt like the seizure my brother describes on occasion when I tried to. Crazy part is I saw other people leaving the area just fine. I didn't know magic could get so specific. Whoever's behind this is organizing the monsters. There's been a lot of abnormal activity so I've been playing it safe for now but I have a hunch that slaughter is on the horizon. It's not looking good Autumn. Seems to me we're staying for the party so we'd best get comfy."

Gray continued habitually peeking out the windows through slits in the curtains, making sure not to ruffle them.

Lying on the ground, staring up at the night sky while explosions went off left and right, gunfire and magic fireballs. Parry had listened to Tony describe the concussive power of explosive weapons before, fighting in the jungle and all that. He'd listened to the lycan back then out of decorum rather than interest. Turns out he would have been better off paying attention to those old war stories, especially if Tony had one he liked to call "The day I survived 18 rockets."

I retired to get away from this shit. Well, not the rockets and guns. Those are new. Not much different from Daemon curses and flaming javelins. What the Pit is that noise though? My carbon monoxide thingy? Oooooh, ringing in the ears? Is that what this is? It's not ringing, Tony. More like an eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee sound that's getting quieter and quieter...

Aaaaaaaand, back to reality.

Tony was inside screaming about a back door, probably reliving his glory days from 'Nam.

Parry caught the scent of blood tinged with spearmint- Rikive was shot but definitely not dead.

Something suddenly stank of Demonic pitch mixed with copper. So Karram's drably dressed girlfriend was a demon? And she was shot too. And returning fire if that pop-pop-pop sound was any indicator.
Great. A Demon-touched. This is gonna get awwwwwwkwaaaaaaaard.

Flint was doing his level best to keep Parry alive, erecting dirt barricades to absorb any rockets that came their way and firing off pistol shots with his own hand cannon.

"Aw, Flinty! My knight in shining armor!" Parry grinned, leaning up and planting a chaste kiss on the detective's cheek as he stopped to reload. "Oh hells! You taste like whiskey and Marlboro. Get off of me and get some aftershave!" The Celestial took all of six seconds to scratch and claw at his lips to get the taste off of them. "Like licking a trailer park rug. Never doing that again."

Parry rolled to the side, giving the PI a chance to reload without getting any more smooches, while the Celestial considered their options. The house was warded against magic, so either Nemsemet had guessed that and sent his lackeys loaded for bear, or just never had any fucks to give over the whole "subtlety" thing. Made sense either way, so it didn't fucking matter.

"Tony, back door through the kitchen! There's a subway entrance one block down! We need to get them into the house to trip the Wards on them! Beth, see if you can puppeteer one of the shooters and make a mess from behind them!"

@Necrophage

With the door open Autumn entered. Having eyes everywhere she didn't bother much with looking around. But of course Grey did not know that. A great amount of effort went into hiding that Autumn Weltich and Arachne, Queen of Spiders were one in the same. Those in on it consisted mostly of court members that she had a hold of. If others knew then they would kill every one of her children that dared show itself. However here circumstances were quite a bit different. Both of them were not getting out of this and she needed someone she could trust. But to prevent any trouble from arising later she most likely was going to need to reveal her secret to the human before her. There were not many humans that could claim to have seen Arachne as she truly was and live to tell about it.

Crossing her arms whilst listening she processed the information. Grey always did quick work and this was no exception. Autumn could trust his word over the sketchy information floating about. Part of what he said she knew already, but having confirmation was good. She nodded in reference to their previous encounter. That had been some years ago and she pulled him out of the fire then. A rare smile flashed itself across her face. Humans were always nostalgic about things. Hard to blame them with such a short life span. Casually looking around the room she waited till he finished to speak up. "Excellent work. I have noticed several of the same particulars you have. Some of our employees that are more in the know have not returned. They are trapped in here like the rest of us. I'd rather not get them involved though so I haven't contacted them. Probably best it stays that way." He spoke low which meant there wasn't much in the way od privacy here. This would not make a good place to stay for very long. They almost would be better off in a much higher end suite than down here among the rabble. But that might not be a great place to start a brood.

"We are going to need a better place to stay. You're really the only one I trust enough not to kill me in my sleep. But there is something that I must show you that you may not be pleased about. But not here." Something drew her attention and she looked off to the side a bit. No one was there, but she seemed to be listening intently. "If we are going to move then now might be a good opportunity. Pack your things and make yourself presentable."

Another concussive blast barrelled into the wall Beth hid behind. The shockwave sent even her into the street, her concentration hampered by the endless tirade of bullets and noise. Her body flickered in and out of tangibility as she rolled across the road. Bullets coursed right through her, each one starting a ripple of burns through her form. Albeit the only physical pain she was ever likely to feel again, the combination pissed her off.

Enough, apparently, to set some things in motion. One of those things happened to be the nearest dumpster. Beth tossed the oversized trash can towards the origin of the bullets and used the momentary lapse in their barrage to pin her sights on the daycare center. Her spiritual spidey sense couldn't get a lock on anything, but she saw the rest of their merry band taking up arms. As soon as Flint erected a solid dirt shield, Beth darted behind it.

She heard someone shouting and it took her a second to give the voice a name—Parry’s telltale tone clued her in. She perked up at the sound of her name.

“Making a mess is what I'm good for,” she called back to him and took off.

Beth took a shortcut through—literally, through—the buildings on the right side of the street and came around to the back of the shooters. She didn't bother to count them. What was the point? Numbers had no effect on the already-dead. She threw herself into the body of the closest assailant.

Whoever this was, they were not wholly human. Mortal, perhaps, except it felt like they'd been tampered with. They fought the possession with a strength unfamiliar to most mortals, and dropped their semi-automatic in the process, but Beth's fifteen years of experience won out. The internal struggle only fuelled her abilities. She snatched up the gun and returned fire.

Rikive pulled her hand away from her injury when the pain started to fade, looking toward Parael when he shouted his plan. It was good, but what if they pursued them rather than go into the building? Flint's dirt barrier's didn't look like they held up to bullets well, much less the fiery death the enemy could rain down upon them.

At her hip, Rikive felt Winterthorn begin to shake in its sheath. Blinking she shifted to look at the sword, being sure to keep her head down. The old weapon had never done anything such as this before. Untying it from her belt she pulled the sword around in front of her. She slid the blade from it's black and silver sheath, the soft ringing sound of sliding metal filling her ears over the loud gunfire.

She looked at the sword, waiting for it to do something when she felt the sheath move. Her eyes snapped to it and widened, watching the scabbard turn to mist over her arm. It felt as though leather straps wrapped around her arm before the cloud of mist solidified into a black and silver round shield.

For a moment she stared at the shield before shaking her head to be rid of the shock. She rolled over onto her back and lifted her shield covered arm into the air, shutting her eyes tight to brace for possible pain. She felt the impact of the bullet's into her shield but her arm remained steady. Opening her eyes she saw the bullets embedded into the surface of the shield but they hadn't broken to the other side.

"Ha!" She laughed, her mouth spreading into a wide grin. "You beauty!"

Moving made sense. If this rebellious faction were paranoid enough to attack these two strangers the thin walls of this little motel room would be like paper to a beast's claws. "Thanks." He said in response to the compliment. Gray threw on his black jacket to conceal the shoulder holsters beneath and tossed the remaining loose articles into his suitcase. She was right to keep other people out of this, no need for additional corpses.

Gray laughed a little as she mentioned that she trusted him enough to not kill her in her sleep. "Don't make me blush." His mood became a little heavier at the mention of something he may not like. It was mysterious. Not that he didn't know she may very well have enough information to topple a small nation. More disturbing was the fact that she wanted to share some of that with him when it wasn't her norm . Tension's rising.

"I don't know if you drove in or not but I'm taking the suburban. It's got the rest of my stuff." Gray hefted the suitcase up and started on down the hall. When the suburban had quit on him as he attempted to leave it started up again when he wanted to go back into town like nothing had happened to it to begin with. Damn magic. At the exit he stopped. The all too familiar noises of explosive combat hailed his ears in the far distance. These guys had explosives. Great.

Ignoring the distraction for the time being he popped the back of the suburban open and crammed the suitcase in with its sister. He had no idea who was who in this town and what sides were fighting. He was at this point a confused bystander - and man did he hate it! "I'd love to get out there." Gray shook his head with a frown. "Let's figure this mess out before they blow up the rest of the city." He got in the driver's side and made ready to take directions from Autumn. They would have to avoid the conflict for now. Unless Autumn knew who they were they'd both be in the way.

"Then get this bunch moving into the kitchen!" he shouted right back, even as the gunfire continued -- they were suppressing anything that moved upright and tried to return fire, even despite a few return spells flung at them. Volume of fire? Well, at least three belt-fed machineguns going, along with tandem charge rockets, designed to penetrate into a hard target, such as a vehicle or structure and then explode once inside, past the barrier. Bunkers, tanks...Parael's house. Once they went off, ball bearings and shrapnel filled the area. That would be bad if one landed while they were still in there.

He managed to move through the room, thoroughly wrecked in something less than five minutes of combat. The bullets left pockmarks in the walls that children had finger painted, the shrapnel from the rocket propelled grenades left holes and the secondaries left scorch marks in places. The furniture was similarly shredded, and the room's decor was well on its way to debris, but there was at least enough of a couch to crouch behind and the walls were intact enough to provide some cover as he moved low.

He was tempted to shift to his man-beast form then and there, but he had the feeling that there might well be silver in the rounds -- if these shooters were clued in, they might have loaded up for lycanthropes, in which case the immunity to regular bullets might well be offset by the gunners reloading with silver. Those weren't assault rifles or something light; these were full-sized rounds fired from a general purpose machinegun. They hit hard and they ripped through walls.

His feet crunched broken glass and pieces of wood underneath as he picked his way through the kitchen, itself not nearly as bad as the living/play room that was being savaged with more weapons fire. Tony opened the door and carefully looked around the area to the rear of the house; luckily, the lines of sight weren't real good, because there were other homes nearby, and it provided a bit of cover...best of all, the shooters were still shooting, but bullets weren't landing in their direction anymore.

That didn't mean the way was clear, the guys hitting the house may well have a force keeping the back area watched. He wasn't sure, but he did know that they had to get the fuck out of here. It was loud, dark and the smoke and gunpowder smells were filling his nostrils, but he could see like, well, a cat in the dark.

All the same, there were enemies there, about to kick open the door and grenande the kitchen; three men that smelled...off. Like mortal thralls of vampires or something. It made some sense -- the leeches always had hangerons looking to join the club and the vampires used these errand boys for all they were worth. Feed them back some blood and they got to be like junkies looking for a fix. It was said to be like speed and PCP, making the typical human stronger, faster, more aggressive.

But they were not sufficiently clued in; they didn't know that one of the worst possible beings to meet in the dark was a lycanthrope -- there were less of them than vampires, because it was a matter of heredity, but they were immensely fast and strong, resistant to damage, and had a predator's senses fused to a human mind. It wasn't to say they couldn't be taken-- prepared hunters could do quite a thorough job of it, but these three thought they were turning their guns on the first man out the door, and what they got was a halfway point between man and African lion, standing on two feet but hunched over with over-long arms whose hands ended in overlong claws. The shreds of his clothing were hanging off this apparition.

The three simply didn't last that long, not against a headlong rush. Lions had an incredible upper-body strength and were designed for the ambush hunt -- they did not lope long distances after prey, and Tony did the same thing here; a sudden springing forward and a man fountained blood. Another then was ripped into with claws on his way to the third, vaulting forward and getting the fellow before he could flee or fire or let off a grenade.

Three down, very quickly. Tony was shifted back into his human form, breathing heavily from a heady mix of hormones that weren't entirely the human variety; there was a degree of satisfaction that flowed through him that came from the kill, a sense of enjoyment that Lycans felt involuntarily in the throes of their fight or flight. It was why so many of them reveled in violence. Even Tony had to get out of town and hunt animals to get it out of his system; it was hardwired into them, and modern life, with the emphasis on self-control, even self-denial, was especially rough on lycanthropes. The shift back to humanity was like coming down from a really good high, complete with an afterglow that made him want to smile, even as it caused a sense of self-loathing, deep within the human parts of his psyche, where sentience and biochemistry waged their eternal war.

He was drenched in blood and wearing shreds of clothing, but seemed to regard that as normal, or at least as something he couldn't help. The bodies were limp mounds in the darkness, splayed out on Parael's back lawn with their eyes sightlessly watching the night sky, heedless of how maimed they were in the last moments of their lives.

"Stay low, don't get seen," he called back to the door, even as he grabbed one of the guns off the men; vampire thralls, with AK's. That wasn't entirely surprising, vamps tended to have their fingers in all kinds of pies, and weapons dealing was one of the ways they made ends meet. But it meant he had a gun and some magazines if he needed them.