Flint was out of ammo, he hadn’t been expecting to be in a firefight when he planned on coming here. Bullets continued to hit the dirt and it seemed like it was time to leave right about now, he glanced to the others, watching as Rikive was shot and then seeing her shield magically form.

“That would be great if we were up against the Persians” Flint thought to himself as he peeked over his hastily built barricade. He saw that the majority of the fire was coming from a building across the street, he also noticed one of the attackers begin to turn on his ally’s. No doubt Beth doing the thing he hates her doing. Controlling people was just… morally wrong. Flint decided it best to make a hasty retreat, and so began his way to the back door.

As he entered the backroom he was met with a sight that made even him shudder. Tony was ripping some people a part. Flint was quiet, he didn’t want to intervene with the were-lions ‘fun’. He was relieved when he finally returned to his human form, calling back as he scooped up a Kalashnikov. Flint joined him, picking up one of the AK’s, it was a bit too modern for him, he was far more proficient with early submachine guns and rifles, but he figured he could use it.

“Make sure to take the safety off” Flint joked to Tony as he racked the slide on the gun, allowing a fresh round to enter the chamber. He stepped over some of the bloody pulp in the garden and began to walk to the location of his car, staying low as to hopefully avoid more blood shed.

“Maybe next time you should leave something for their families to bury” He called back, wondering if the others would follow him or split off to find another car.

The door behind Karram flung open wildly and he darted his gaze back to see Parry wielding a sword... and a diaper bag. He caught glimpses of Flint and Antonio behind Parry along with a few less recognizable entities. Parry, with his usual flamboyant personality, flared up in sassy conversation, even referring to the mystery woman as Karram's "girlfriend." And of course mentioning her lack of fashion... like that mattered in a time like this (even if he was right). However it wasn't a long reunion; a whistling noise began emanating from above. It was unfamiliar to Karram, although it didn't sound good.

And Karram's thought was instantly confirmed as he heard a huge explosion erupt nearby, the force of which nearly knocked Karram prone. Karram squinted as a result of the intense brightness. He looked away, back at the others. They seemed to be okay for now. But of course, it's never that simple. As if in slow motion Karram noticed several attacking gunners from across the street open fire on the crowd of supernaturals, including him. Karram quickly ducked down to avoid the initial spray of bullets as he continued to scan the environment. He heard Antonio yelling about a back exit to which Parry eventually responded saying it was through the kitchen. Looks like I'm going with the group after all, Karram thought.

He was just about to turn around when he saw the mystery woman take a shot to the calf and slump against a wall returning fire. Without hesitation, Karram touched the ground and directed a few tree roots to her position, having them peek out of the ground and clutch her ankle. And with a swift pull, they would drag her towards Karram with relative ease. In one swift action Karram would catch her on the doorstep, stand her up, and begin assisting her through the open doorway towards the kitchen. "We're not finished talking, you and I. But first, let's get the hell out of this mess." It wouldn't take them long to traverse from the main room to the kitchen, where Karram noticed the slain thralls as well as Flint and Antonio making their way out the back door.

@Necrophage

Making note of the change in mood she sighed slightly. Telling him who she was was not something she wanted to do. But if something happened that forced her hand and revealed her true identity it would not end well. Best not to spring that kind of thing on someone when your lives are on the line. Ready to go in a matter of minutes Autumn followed Grey to his vehicle and got into the passenger seat. In mentioning the commotion in the distance she looked at him. "And that is why we're moving. Head toward downtown for now. I'll explain a few things on the way."

No doubt that Grey would just follow directions for now she sat quietly for a time. Tension was rife in those several minutes as she mulled over how to explain the situation. Grey's morals would put her pretty high on his list of monsters to eliminate, having killed countless people both personally and by association. The numerous deadly creatures she created continue to kill even now without her intervention. Finally coming to some kind of resolution in her mind she put her hands down and looked at Grey. There was apprehension in her eyes and even the slightest bit of fear. "Secrets are my business and as you could probably suspect I have several of my own. A lot of them have to do with the business I'm in. But some are closer to home, things specifically about me that I keep locked away for a reason. You are a rarity in that there are not many humans that really know of the supernatural world. I am in a position where I need someone I can trust. Part of that is not keeping secrets that can cause trouble later on." Letting that hang for a few seconds she followed with a question. "Are you familiar with the Greek legend of Arachne?" Perhaps a bit more to the point all of the sudden but she needed to know where Grey's knowledge stood. If he did know then things would be easier to explain.

This was the worst mess Parry had ever seen since retiring to the human plane. And he'd seen 32 semi-potty trained toddlers on Mountain Dew not four years ago. His house was taking artillery fire from Russian missiles, a platoon of Nemsemet's goons were unloading assault rifle rounds into the walls and windows, and here he lay on the front lawn behind a dirt barricade while the motley band of supernatural misfits alternately ran for their lives or tried to fight back.

It wasn't all bad though. Between Flint's hand cannon, the Demon's pistols, and (judging by the screams out back) Tony's lycan abilities, they might just have a shot at getting out of this whole thing-

Which was when he heard the whine of the rocket, in seemingly slow motion, plunging into his apartment's bedroom window up above and exploding in a massive fireball. Bits of metal paneling, bricks and glass showered down onto everyone outside the building (including Parry) who continued to stare up at the gaping, burning hole in the building.

"My clothes..." Parry whimpered, a tear forming in his eye. "All my clothes... and my scented candles... and my iPhone collection..."

Now Parry may once have been a Celestial, a being of goodness, order, and devotion whose very existence was meant to keep the universe in line, protecting the innocent and doing no wrong. He served at the pleasure of the divine spark, being a total Tool for the forces of Light.

But that hadn't lasted through the silk boom of the 1400s. Parry was now the most self-absorbed, materialistic and hedonistic motherfucker in the whole goddamn city of Camden. He ate fashion magazines, dreamed of walking the runway, and bagged every "stud muffin" he could convince to come back to his place on a Saturday night. So when he rolled onto his knees behind Flint's crumbling earthen barricade, eyes twitching in absolute rage and starlight forming in his hands, he was nothing short of a fucking mess.

"This is for GUCCI!" He screamed, hurling a bolt at one of the gunmen across the street. The ball of gold light struck the vampire thrall square in the chest, forcing him to drop the AK in his arms as his clothes were consumed by fire.

"AND YOU, BITCH!" He screamed, backing up to the front door to the daycare. "THIS IS FOR ARMANI!" The thrall woman, hefting a rocket launcher over one arm, caught a blast straight to the face as she turned to see the source of the shrill yell. Her eyeballs melting and shirt on fire, she dropped to the ground, rolling in the concrete to put out the flames.

"MOTHERFUCKING CHANEL!" Which was right when someone, Parry wasn't sure who, grabbed him by the arm and hauled his ass back inside the building as a rocket landed not ten feet from where he'd been standing. And when he landed on his Prada diaper bag, that mad, fashion induced berzerker fury disappeared from Parry's eyes.

"Oh. That's right. I always keep all my iPhones in here." Parry reached one arm deep into the bag and pulled out a gold 5s and a silver 6 Plus. "We're good everyone! I've still got my phone collection! Tony? Tony, where'd you go?"

Rikive was rising to her knees with her newly formed shield between her and the gun fire when another explosion rocked the building. She flinched, but kept her shield where it was as she rose up to her feet, looking toward the backdoor where the lawman had gone. Where is Parael? That question answered itself when she heard him yelling at the front of the building. "Oh no." She quickly ran to the door and watched with wide eyes as Parael laid waste to the ranks of their attackers.

She had never seen him so angry before and she had certainly never seen him use his powers in such a way. It was frightening at the same time it was awe inspiring. She snapped from her amazement when she heard another horrific shriek fill the air. She lunged forward and grabbed Parael, pulling him back inside and onto the ground. She crouched in front of him with her shield protecting them from the debris of the blast.

At his voice returning to normal she turned her head and gave him a flat look. His moods often changed so quickly and starkly, she truly wondered about the ancient beings sanity. "Out back." She informed him, pointing toward the door way. She heard wood begin to crack and she looked up with wide eyes. "MOVE!" She shouted, trying to keep at a crouch as she made to grab Parael's arm so they could quickly flee the building before it fell onto their heads.

The patter and boom of conflict sounded through the windows. Gray's attention was slightly distracted as he drove. Several times he shifted his gaze to the source of the sound as they drove to make sure they weren't in immediate danger. They were heading downtown at Autumn's direction.

Autumn spoke over the distant gunfire. She sounded like she was trying to butter him up with basic info he knew for some big secret. Gray responded to the question. "Yeah. I know the myths." He glanced briefly at her just enough to see the hesitation in her face. "Arachne was cursed by the gods like Medusa was. Pissed them off really bad. Some perfect gods they were to lose their cool that easy." He trailed off, again looking at some movement on the side of the road.

"Is that who we're gunning for? Is Arachne behind this?" He assumed.

@Necrophage

He knew, that was good. It was always a little odd hearing someone else talk about her as if she was not there. It was forever ago though so there was no way they could have known that she was still around. Shaking her head slightly she couldn't help but smile at Grey's jab at the gods. Indeed they were a fickle bunch. More easily wounded by mere words than just about any other creature in existence. It was then that he asked if Arachne was their target. For a second she almost corrected him harshly but held her tongue. Looking out at the flashes in the distance she took a breath to calmed herself.

"No, Arachne is not the cause of this. Nor is she the target. I wanted to know how much you knew in case I needed to explain it to you. But I don't have to." The noise outside continued and she leaned forward so Grey wouldn't have to take his eyes further from the road. "That chaos out there may find us eventually. And when it does I want you to know who I really am, what I really am. Autumn Weltich is just an alias. That woman in the myth is me. I am Arachne." Unsure how this information would be taken she sat back and waited. There were many directions revealing who she was could go. Very few of them seemed good at the moment. It wasn't like they didn't know each other. She had assisted him several times in the past and given him work but that didn't necessarily change the fact that he hunted monsters. Up until this moment she had always maintained the guise of being human and Grey was doing work under human supervision.

Claudia continued shooting, from the wall, steering clear of other bullets. She was outnumbered, even with the help of others. This house would be taken soon, if there was anything left by that time. It hadn't even been a week and she'd be dead because of her job. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Karram's movements, but chose to ignore him, so when the roots curled around her ankle it as a surprise. One moment she was flat against the wall, facing towards the shooters, and the next she was pulled back and caught by someone. Looking up, she realized that someone was Karram.

She allowed herself to be guided through the unfamiliar building towards the back. There were bodies in the kitchen, though it was hard to tell what they were due to their condition. So far she had suspicions of a lycanthrope or some other beast because of the carnage, some kind of celestial if the horrid smell invading her mouth and nose were any indication. She hated that smell, as well as most everything about beings from the other side of the supernatural street. Especially angels, all the ones she'd heard of and met were major snobs.

There was a large explosion, much closer than before. Too close. She growled, the sound muffled slightly by the once clean mask she was wearing. It had been pure and white, now it was dirtied by dirt and sweat. It seemed like a metaphor for life. Everyone started innocent, but in the end, every single person was guilty in some way. Claudia let out a bitter chuckle as she shook her head. Right, back to the present, as distasteful as it was. She took off her mask, shoving it back into her pocket. Might as well go with these people for now. Not like she'd be allowed back. If she did get out, she'd take the alley took get to the abandoned building she lived, grab her supplies and dog, and go from there.

"We need to move. Now." She informed the others in the room and shoving herself away from Karram. There was no point in aiding her, the wound had mostly healed except for the bullet shards still lodged in her calf. She would deal with those later, but she could walk fine now.

She unloaded the contents if the magazine into the remaining shooters. Now, in life Beth never was excellent with a gun. Death provided certain opportunities however, and several times over the course of her fifteen years she slipped into the body of a gun-toting whackjob. She took those chances to learn a thing or two. She still couldn't hit a target on the bullseye, but everywhere else was fair game. The thralls either side of her dropped to the ground, struck in the shoulders, stomachs, legs... wherever her bullets ended up. No one, it seemed, prepared for one of their own to turn on them.

A few fiery blasts from the crumbling building took care of those wielding the rockets. She thought she heard shouting again, but her attention was elsewhere. One of the downed shooters dragged themselves towards the flaming corpses on crippled legs. Beth followed and slammed the butt of her rifle into his head. "I always wanted to do that," she told his unconscious form.

A bullet tore through the chest of her meat suit. The strike prompted her out of the body as it fell, and she spun in search of her would-be killer. The lone shooter ran from the scene, their gun pointed behind them. Briefly, Beth considered letting them escape, live, and make some feeble attempt to flee from Nemsemet's grasp, before she decided their death was inevitable. The supernaturals, at least, could not afford to be found a second time.

She ended his run for life with a brick to the head. "Sorry, champ." It was kinder than Nemsemet would have been, by far.

Unburdened by the weight of a body, Beth took off back down the street. Once she caught sight of Tony, Flint and the strangers making their way to... she had no idea where the rest planned to go, exactly, but Flint was headed for his car. Beth waited a moment to perform a headcount, darting through the devastated front wall of the daycare to ascertain the survival of Parry and the Asgardian, then followed Flint. She stopped beside his car. "That plan of yours, Flint dear, what was it again?"

Tony just gave Flint a flat look that might have easily broadcast, "Whitey, please" if he had a big sign over his head. He knew how to handle a Kalashnikov. The big lever on the right side of the receiver went all the way down for rock n' roll, the charging handle pulled back (and one round ejected, just to make sure it was feeding properly) and yeah, he knew the drill. This was one of the black polymer furniture jobs with a big flash suppressor or recoil compensator on the barrel and some sort of optics on there, he wasn't up on the current terminology, but this was the same sort of gun the Cong used in the big bad bush back in '68.

Not much had changed in that sense since he'd done half a tour in the 'Nam and went bugfuck nuts as a beastman, hunting the long pig all over the Mekong Delta and possibly into Cambodia -- he wasn't exactly reading a map when he did it.

So three vampire thralls were dead, but it was better than the three of them putting grenades in the kitchen or catching them in a crossfire. He might have felt a little awkward about enjoying the killing so much, but the necessity of the act? Not so much. Thralls were bad news, especially if you let the crazy fuckers get started. They were all Tony Montana on a brick of Colombia's finest yayo, vicious and eager to score another drink of that v-juice, screaming, "SAY HEY-LO TO MY LEETLE FRIEN' MAIN!" and letting off the whole mag in one big 80's movie go.

He'd done some drugs, especially during the 60's and 70's, but he never touched vamp blood no matter what others said about how awesome it was; it was supposed to be one of those incredible highs...for the low low price of servitude to the vampire providing it. They loved to spread the stuff around too, and now that Nemsemet had them on his side, it meant that key mortals in the city government, including law enforcement, were going to look the other way when thralls with rocket launchers demolished a place.

"I'm here, man," he replied to Parael, from the dark. He was dripping in gore and looked like some crazy rapist with Freddy Kreuger gloves got at his wardrobe, it was in tatters on him, but he was alert and calm, "I can see damn good in the dark man, why don't you and whoever else knows how to drive grab some sort of vehicle, even if you have to hotwire the bitch, because we all aren't fitting in the cop's car. I'll cover this shit with Dexter Morgan here," he jerked a thumb at Claudia, "Because I get the feeling she can figure out an AK." There was one of those left, on one of the corpses in the back yard, but not every supernatural being was up on how weaponry worked. Vampires tended to love the goddamn guns. But then there were people like the shield girl there, who weren't hip the idea that tactics changed.

Maybe he smelled the gunpowder on Claudia; she'd been firing a weapon, after all, and there was a sharp and unmistakable tang to the scent of gunpowder. He knew that Sturm und Drang there wouldn't appreciate the niceties of taking cover and suppression fire and Parael needed to find a car, and probably knew how to actually drive one. No idea about the other dude, so he took the safe bet; he trusted his nose.

Gray was thankful a simple no was sufficient enough for her to correct him. He hated lectures. Autumn paused appearing withdrawn for a moment before she continued. Gray really could have seen Autumn Weltich as an alias but then she said exactly what she was. He parked the car on the side of the street.

Cars drifted by. It was obvious by the buzz of the town that a lot of people had heard the commotion in the distant neighborhood. Since it most certainly had direct relation to this situation he figured it would never make the news. Gray sat there in silence for an uncomfortable moment. After the moment ended he put the car in drive and started on down the road again. Quietly drifting down the road a ways he asked a loaded question he already knew the answer for. "Have you killed anyone?"

The answer didn't matter. He already had his own response planned. "I have. The worst monster I ever met wasn't covered in fur, claws or scales. He was a man. I had to kill him because he was far more deserving that fate than anyone else." Though he liked to know someone like anyone else, he didn't want any more reason to be angry at her or think about his personal code. "Don't hide it anymore from me. But I don't really want to hear anything else about it right now." He'd been brooding since she broke the dam. Gray would get over it pretty quickly, he usually did.

Still alive it seemed. Though that didn't mean that this was over. The stop was expected given the gravity of her claim. Knowing better than to press the matter further she sat back in the passenger seat as they rode in silence. Only to give directions on where to turn did she speak. They were headed for one of the larger hotels in the city. It was also a much more expensive one to be sure. It was unlikely that any other supernatural would just happen to be there. Once they were parked she took the lead, motioning for Grey to lose the brooding expression.

Her company had an account with this particular chain, Zohara Hotel. The upscale environment made a good setting to entertain prospects and business partners. Being a regular also meant that the staff knew better than to enter her suite without permission. Usually on the upper floors also meant that keeping track of the entrances was easy and the view was good for overlooking a decent portion of New Camden. Of course Arachne rarely did such things, but other associates found it useful.

Apparently everything was already arranged for them, the woman having stopped in in advance. She knew that Grey would come along. The elevator ride was as silent as the one in the car. Not until they were safely in their hotel room did she look back inquisitively. The space was probably much more than he was used to. A rather large open living room that opened up into the kitchen. It sported a granite countertop bar and everything one would need for entertaining. Of course in this case that was not on the agenda, but in case Grey wanted something strong it was available.

There were two bedrooms, the doors to which were on opposite sides of the living space. They each would have their privacy which they would want from the beginning but after Autumn's confession the need was highlighted. Not wasting time she walked over to the windows and lowered the screens. Taking a seat on a barstool she removed her heels which no matter what never seemed to be comfortable enough. "Well we're here. What else would you like to know?"

Gray brought in the same case he usually carried and rested it at the foot of the bed he had been designated. It held his armor and rifle with parts included. The suite wasn't something he generally stayed in but it held a charm he wasn't entirely unused to. The Conover family had their own small fortune though it had waned as of late, a product of the trials made by the modern age. He hoped to bring that wealth back and secure their spot as respectable hunters.

The seats were cozy and clean in the common area, a perk he took immediate advantage of. Gray wasn't much a drinker. Inhibited senses were never fun in a situation like this. You never could tell what could go wrong.

Autumn took a seat. No, it wasn't Autumn, it was Arachne. That's right. He couldn't get over the name. Screw Arachne, I'm still going to think of her as Autumn. Autumn took her seat and opened up for questions. Except he didn't really have questions to ask. Not about her. "Autumn. What do we do next? I've got the tools, give me a target. One way or another we need to stop this magic. Whether we hit some minions or go for the head. I'm sick of waiting for more people to die."

Flint was quickly back at his car, he hadn’t met with any resistance on the way and he hadn’t heard any gunfire in a while. This meant one of two things, the enemy had been defeated, or they were advancing on the house. As he reached his car he met Beth, who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"That plan of yours, Flint dear, what was it again?" The Poltergeist asked. Flint seemed to contemplate the words, before reaching into his jacket and taking out a hip flask, gulping down the liquid within. After, he looked as if he was about to say something, but instead retrieved a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with his hand. Finally after a few puffs of smoke entered the air, he turned to Beth once more.

“I have a place, an old apartment complex, running water, gas cookers and bunk beds” Flint took another draw on the cigarette. “No wards or anything fancy, but I’m hoping some of our more mysteriously magical ‘friends’ could help with that” He said friends in what could only be the most sarcastic way possible. Flint looked to where he had come from, waiting for anyone else to come a long for the journey.

He opened the Bentleys doors and slid into the driver’s seat, throwing the AK onto the passenger side. He didn’t unlock the passenger side door and made sure the assault rifle lay on top of the seat, hoping to signify to anyone that he wasn’t allowing anyone to sit in the front. He looked in the glove compartment and began placing ammunition for his revolver in his pockets, taking the time to load the aforementioned gun before sliding it back into its holster. The back doors where open and he silently waited for anyone else to come over. He took another swig of his flask as he waited, sighing heavily.

“I should have left town years ago” he muttered to himself.

It was business as usual apparently. The gesture of calling her by her human name took Arachne back a bit. She would answer to either name though. "I don't know where the head is. And we have the element of surprise right now being from the outside. If we play our hand too soon then we risk getting the jump on the enemy." Letting her hair down she lightly brushed it out so it wouldn't get tangled. Pausing for a moment she lowered a hand to the counter.

A small spider crawled out from the underside of the bar and onto her finger. Lifting it up she appeared to listen briefly before letting it climb its way up her arm and down her body to the floor. "Apparently a local daycare is what was lit up today. A force mostly consisting of thralls attacked the place with traditional firearms and RPGs. Not entirely sure who they were trying to take out but a few in the group I recognize. A Faerie that worked for my firm for a time and a half-demon that he represented in human court." Stopping so as not to drone on she got to her feet and seemed to be thinking. "We should wait and see what side they are on. I'm sure we'll find out before the end of the night since they will need to scurry to a new hole."

All these orders being shouted in Parry's face. "We need to find a car!" "Out the back!" "Move!"

By all the stars in the sky, had he joined the army by giving Augustus that Isis charm? If that was the case, he'd never loan anyone any jewelry ever again. Rockets and bullets peppering his front door was way too fucking big a price to pay for lending a third rate wizard a beaded strip of leather smeared in ancient alligator's blood. To be completely fair, he had been meaning to get rid of the fugly thing, but the arrival of the ancient Egyptian death god had kind of put a damper on that plan.

Even as he slid the phones back into his diaper bag, peaking his head back through the kitchen doorway, he had to wonder just what in the hell Nemsemet's game was. It was absurdly strange- the guy/gal/thing simultaneously respected the rule of "Thou shalt not involve the humans" (if anyone had violated that rule, it was definitely the motly band in his home). But at the same time, this kind of attack was an escalation beyond the norm. Vampires and werewolves might pop each other with pistols now and then, but missile launchers and AK-47 rifles was a step above something that could be written off as a drive-by shooting. And no manner of enchantment could hide the fact that this place was being lit up like a post-Soviet war zone. The holes in the building's front couldn't be explained away as a gas leak like most sorcerous fireballs were these days.

Nemsemet either didn't know about the human 5-0, or he didn't care that a SWAT team was inbound in the next 600 seconds to waste what was left of his minions.

My money is on the whole 'Why should I care about the puny mortals' side of it. If I were an ancient Egyptian asshole who believed I was a god incarnate, I'd definitely not give two fucks.

Parry gave his front room one last longing glance- the rocking horses in pieces, the hand-made doll house on fire, the diaper pail burning like a hobo's trash can. That settled it- if they weren't all shot, then they'd die from smoke and toxic gas inhalation. He briefly considered running out through the living area, up the stairs and into the bedroom to retrieve his iron sword from the floorboards in his bedroom.

That plan was nipped in the bud as another rocket was launched from across the street into the bedroom up above the kitchen. The ceiling actually split open, raining plaster and floorboards down on everyone in the kitchen, and Parry was forced down to the ground by the concussion.

Again with the ringing ears. If I need to get a hearing aid after all this, I will fucking murder someone.

Parry felt rather than heard the clatter of iron against the tile floor in front of him. When he opened his eyes, the dinged up iron short sword was lying inches from his grasp, his sooty fingers reached out and grasped the hilt, and he quickly stuffed it inside the diaper bag.

"This isn't an official favor," he said to the ruined ceiling. "Just incredibly good luck."

In response to which, whatever karmic force had planted his weapon within his grasp, decided that canopy fuckbed Parry so loved should start leaning over the ruined floorboards and prepare to take a swan dive into the kitchen.

"Leaving. Leaving now!" Parry shrieked, rolling to his knees and running through the slick gore covered back door. A thunderous CRASH announced the arrival of his ornate bed into the kitchen.

Parry didn't have time to catch where Tony, the Demon and everyone else went. He was too busy running as fast as he could toward Flint's car and did a Home-plate slide right into the back seat. Beth and Flint filed in and the car roared to life as he sat upright behind the driver's seat, shrieking "Time to leave, guys!"

Rikive willed her shield to return to it's sheath form and put the blade back into it's place. Parael was safe from the decaying building, that was her main concern and now she could relax. A bit. The manbeast, Tony, was right, they all wouldn't fit into the lawman's vehicle. "I'll return shortly." She informed the remaining members of the...chaotic group, before taking off at a fast run away from incoming fire. Everyone was everywhere and there was no organization of their ranks. Hopefully that would change when they were out of danger and could actually think.

When she first arrived to Midgard she had been completely fascinated by the modern car. She wanted to learn how they worked, how to drive one and learned quite a few things about them over the course of her research. She stopped her sprint when she found a dark blue Impala that looked like a model from the 1960's. Perfect.

She broke the driver side glass with her elbow, the alarm going off but she very much doubted the owner would come outside. Popping open the door she got down underneath the steering wheel. After a few moments the alarm went silent and then the engine roared to life. Grinning she pulled herself into the driver seat and slammed her foot down on the gas petal. The car lurched forward with a screech of tires and she spun the wheel to turn it around.

In theory she knew how one drove a car, in practice, as Parael had told her time and time again; she was not the best at it.

Still she could point it in one direction and make it go forward. She returned close to where she had last left Tony and the rest of the group to fight and honked the horn to get their attention.

Tony didn't like the escalation any more than Parael did; it was an unusual amount of force for the supernatural world. He also didn't like feeling like he was back to the Vietnam days, but it did reinforce one notion in his mind -- this was a fucking war.

The bloodsuckers controlled a lot of the high level local crime here, and if the thralls weren't a huge giveaway, he could smell the vamp blood on them, oozing through the pores, then the East Bloc weapons sure as hell were -- that was the sort of businesses they were in, moving the heroin and cocaine and the automatic weapons into the city. They knew that younger vampires tended to favor Nemsemet's "We shall rule the night!" platform and signed on, but this was a sign that some older/well connected ones that were used to manipulating things behind the scenes were involved. Typical vamp didn't start doing real business, besides foot soldiering, for at least two decades. They tended to spend those first vampiric college years trying to bag hotties to drink before they grew up and started manipulating the stock market or organized crime.

He kept eyes peeled for any more goons, but Parael's shriek was a signal; he started to fall back, and managed to pound on Flint's door until the window went down, "North Rousseau and Twelfth Street, there's a garage. If I ain't there, tell the security guy 'it's a cold sweat' and he'll make sure that the car gets towed somewhere safe and held there. Bottom floor, there's underground access tunnels that empties out into the old city subway system. There's a bunch of graffiti but you want to do is follow the purple peace signs till you hit a fallout shelter." Tony had his means, but he wasn't explaining to Flint how decades of doing charity and getting people jobs in this city meant that he had a network of mortals that could disappear a car and keep it safe, and help people move through the city without being tracked.

There were the howl of sirens down the road, and that meant that they had to get the fuck out and fast...but still, Rivike grabbed some dude's 60's vintage Impala and was leaning on the horn. Sometime later, some guy would be saying to the cops, "Some white woman with a big ass sword STOLE my Chevy Impala!" and the cops would be like, "We'll check the parking lot at the hotel where they're having that cosplay convention."

It didn't matter, because it was a ride out of here. He got in, the thing was a drop top, and told Rivike where they were headed, but got the feeling that he'd have to take her turn by turn.

---

Turned out, he did. Not only that, the woman drove the big, heavy car with too much gas and she didn't quite have the turns or the signaling mastered, so it was a scary ass ride. Luckily, despite all the people yelling at them, the cops were busy -- like, real busy, and so were the fire engines, screaming down the road. Apparently, whoever attacked Parael's decided to finish the job by torching it.

Finally, they got there, around the time Flint and the Bentley did, and Tony told the security guy, Bobby, that it was a 'cold sweat.' That meant the cars would be taken care of. Hell, it meant the Impala would get found in that lot of the towing company and returned to the owner, which was a lot better than what could have happened to it. Bobby, for his part, handed Tony a set of keys. The guns were stashed in a bag, out of sight of Bobby the security guy; he didn't need to know what the heat was or any more than he had to.

"Follow me," he told the lot, once they were parked at the very lowest level of the garage; the tunnel access he used had been used recently, so it didn't squeal in protest. "I made sure this shit was still there when I heard what was going down. Found this shit when I was a kid, screwin' around in these tunnels." It was a trek through the dark and he didn't bother to pop a light -- others could do that for themselves -- but he navigated the twists and the turns without consulting the purple peace signs that were buried among all the other graffiti down here. There were cables and pipes, but it all seemed disused; the rats, the roaches and the spiders were living down here in the dust and the shadows of the city.

Finally, they found a reinforced steel door with a yellow and black sign on it, locked tight. With the key in hand that Bobby handed to him, he got the door open and gestured them in; the place was painted in the old school institutional blue-gray, but it had modern lighting and cables, once the switch got flicked, and modern amenities like plumbing for bathrooms and washing, as well as a place to cook. There wasn't cable TV or any of that shit, but there was space. He closed the door and locked it, with a bar that slammed down into place, making it impossible to come in through that door even with a key, before speaking.

"Nemsemet is a fuckin' disaster, and this is a disaster shelter that the foundation refurbished when it was doing the parking garage and other projects. I figured that it's always good to have a hidey-hole, especially after some shit happened in the 1980's. Two entrances; one leads up to the shelter's entrance which comes out into a tunnel that gets you out into Lord Dorset Park," which was notable for being very dangerous at night, "but I didn't want to risk getting seen going in like that and we needed to get rid of those cars, they're too obvious. The entrance we just used takes us out into the sewers and subways, which means that we don't ever need to use the same way in and out twice. Oughta be enough room, it was designed to hold two hundred for two months. Food supply's fresh. I have clothes, but they might not fit you guys."

Karram would put up little resistance to Claudia's push; he had no intention of aiding her past this point anyway. I mean, she did intend to kill him before. Without the extra weight it didn't take long before Karram reached the outside of the daycare, leaving the carnage behind him. He noticed Antonio had stayed back, gun in hand, looking to provide cover fire for the runaways. He mentioned the girl, calling her Dexter Morgan... a strange name for a female but Karram wouldn't have known any better anyway. Karram refocused himself.

Okay, need to find a car. There's Flint's over there but it seems it's filling up quickly... gotta move fast.

Karram dashed towards the car as fast as he could and quickly slipped in one of the back seats. Soon after, Parry came toppling in clumsily, his head landing on Karram's lap. Karram looked down at him with a confused expression. Parry popped up in the blink of an eye and shrieked, "Time to leave, guys!"

Karram nodded in agreement, more of a mental reflex. Although he kept his mouth shut. He hadn't been a part of the conversation prior to the attack, so he felt it wasn't really his place to make comments or give orders. He situated himself in the seat to give Parry some additional room to sit comfortably as the car eventually took off.

I wonder where we're going... I mean, is anyplace safe now?

Karram let out a sigh and looked down at his lap, smoothing the wrinkles in his pants nervously...

Just have to keep my spirits up and lend my abilities where they're needed.

Before long, the car stopped. Everyone exited and followed Antonio into a tunnel system that eventually led to solid locked door. With the key Antonio had received moments earlier, he opened the door and gestured everyone in. Karram headed inside and examined the area. It seemed like a fairly old place but the electronics were newer and Antonio mentioned fresh supplies.

Beats that rundown apartment I had to stay in for the last week.

"Seems accommodating enough," he'd say trying not to sound pretentious. "And uh, thanks for letting me tag along," he'd say looking at Antonio, Flint, and Parry. As far as he could tell they were running this disorganized organization. He nervously nodded and walked over to a nearby chair to take a load off for a few minutes.

"... And anyway Karram, so Augusts said to me, 'Think of the children Parry! Think of all the poor little supernatural children you see every day, and how they'll be left to the whims of an Egyptian High Priest who fancies himself a god just because he could walk in and kill my uncle.' So hearing that, I couldn't help but say 'You know what Augustus? I have just the thing for you.' So I went upstairs and brought down this old thing I picked up in Alexandria a while back. Not much, but it was a legit Egyptian Charm to the goddess Isis, and I handed it over and said 'This should keep you safe against old Egyptian magic.' And Augustus said 'Thank you Parry! Thank you! You're so generous and so much better dressed than I am. Why, I look like I just came out of a frat party compared to you. And you've got a baby on your hip.' So I said-"

Which was the precise time Flint slammed on the other pedal, putting the car in a rapid stop, while Parry's face landed right into the driver's seat with a quiet and not very good sounding CRUNCH. Parry had to reach into his pocket for an old hankie to press against his nose with one hand while the other took a swipe at the back of Flint's head. "DON'T BRAKE SO FAST," he yelled, his voice distorted as he tried to stop the bleeding from his broken nose.

He was vaguely aware of getting out of the back seat of the car and walking behind Flint and Beth, but too absorbed in his own thoughts to really care what was going on or where they were going.

Without skipping a beat, he turned back to Karram the Fae. "So anyway, I said to Augustus 'Just be a doll and don't tell anyone you were here. Tony would kill me if he found out you knew we were all put up in my place. And Augustus said 'Cross my heart Parry you stud muffin.' So- oh. Oh, we're here!"

'Here' turned out to be yet another relic from a bygone era. A nuclear fallout bunker at the end of a tunnel beneath a parking garage? Parry didn't really know why all his friends were stuck in the past like they seemed to be. Rikive in the Middle Ages, Tony was perpetually reliving 'Nam, and Flint just couldn't get out of the '30s. The present was so much more fun. Couldn't Tony have set up in a Penthouse Suite instead?

Parry hissed as he felt his long hair brush against a spiderweb, sending him running through the bunker's front door whimpering like a child stung by a bee.

"You get this place fumigated regularly, right Tony?" He asked, pulling the bloody cloth from his face. "I mean, no bugs or anything? I had the center cleaned out once a month as a rule. If it has more than six legs it isn't fit to walk this plane." Parry stumbled into the bathroom, still chattering away as he tried to find a light switch to check his face. "I'm covered on clothes for the next day. Just point me to the nearest dry-cleaner if you can. We need to figure out a plan to go on the offensive, find some information about what Nemsemet wants with-"

The sight of his nose, crooked and weeping blood, brought the shrillest, blood-curdling scream from the bathroom Parry had ever heard himself make. The mirror was broken in a spiderweb pattern, the medical supplies in the cabinet behind it spilled out onto the floor, and the Celestial threw himself out into the kitchen and grabbed Tony by the shoulders shaking him furiously.

"FUCK IT! I need a plastic surgeon to fix my nose. NOW!"