@Blueflame Mitch is a questionable, basically blind woman who manages the largest surveillance network in a supernatural universe. If you want, I can make a reason. (:
ScoundrelQueen Member
The Bitchy
- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
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- ScoundrelQueen 8 yrs ago
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Bio
I'm not a girl. I'm a unicorn.
To clarity: Only children and hopeless dreamers believe in me, and I'm probably fake.
To clarity: Only children and hopeless dreamers believe in me, and I'm probably fake.
Most Recent Posts
Mitch is technically at the base. Not sure what cause there is for interaction, but you can talk to her if wanna!
The shot sounded, flames were licking the windows, and smoke was billowing through any crack it could find. The fire was in the roof, climbing into the crawlspace and sparking against the fluffy insulation. It gnawed at the wooden beams of the walls, thinning them and splitting the fibers into curled, charred tangles. Maeve still hadn't gotten used to that- Just knowing what the fire was doing. She could feel it growing and spreading and billowing off of the body of the Jotun.
And the Jotun was in the house and, now, so was Amity.
The residents came out a split second after Amity ran in, and were whisked away by the only people around who felt remotely like adults. Well, the only two real adults. Not mid-to-late 20 somethings who worked two night jobs and lived in a shitty flat without air conditioning and lived off of protein shakes and beer nuts. And sometimes beer.
Non-adult food.
Maeve looked to Oren, only to catch sight of Volkir and Silvarae rushing past them and into the house. "Son of a-"
Maeve took off running running after them, having seen something else in their path: Through the window, just ahead of them, there was a ripple to the air. Not heat- it didn't feel hot. But a ripple she could see from this distance, like the ripples of propane off of a grill that had gone out. "ZERO! Put it out! Someone, put it-"
There was no way for Volkir or Silvarae to have known- No way to have seen the shower of buckshot clip the burner valve off of the gas stove in the kitchen, below the window facing the team. No way to know that gas was pouring into the room, and certainly no way to know that Volkir's body smashing the glass would draw flame into fresh air, and then into the open cloud of gas filling the kitchen...
The bang was louder than Maeve had expected- The wall of flame rushed over her body and she skidded to a stop, unharmed but clothes singed. She could see through narrowed eyes the blinding brightness as Volkir was propelled behind some wall of the house and out of sight. Perhaps onto the roof. The kitchen wall splintered into bits, and popped a few more times for good measure before the gas pipes were melted shut.
Maeve threw up her hands out of instinct, and the explosion parted away from what was left of the team.
It did not, however, stop the momentum of Silvarae's corpse. The former Rune bearer's broken body, or what remained of it, continued out toward them. Her torso stopped a yard from Maeve's feet. A spurt of blood bounced upward where she hit the ground.
It splatted on Maeve's leg.
One of Silvarae's legs, however, was somewhere else.
"Z- Zero-" Maeve looked behind her, face white and flecked with ash. "We- we gonna fucking do something? Isa-" Her hands balled into fists, and she nodded toward the other side around of the building. "That way's- That way's better."
She cleared her throat as she took off around the alternate direction. There was less fire there, it seemed. "And that was a fucking lot."
And it smelled less like burned body.
And the Jotun was in the house and, now, so was Amity.
The residents came out a split second after Amity ran in, and were whisked away by the only people around who felt remotely like adults. Well, the only two real adults. Not mid-to-late 20 somethings who worked two night jobs and lived in a shitty flat without air conditioning and lived off of protein shakes and beer nuts. And sometimes beer.
Non-adult food.
Maeve looked to Oren, only to catch sight of Volkir and Silvarae rushing past them and into the house. "Son of a-"
Maeve took off running running after them, having seen something else in their path: Through the window, just ahead of them, there was a ripple to the air. Not heat- it didn't feel hot. But a ripple she could see from this distance, like the ripples of propane off of a grill that had gone out. "ZERO! Put it out! Someone, put it-"
There was no way for Volkir or Silvarae to have known- No way to have seen the shower of buckshot clip the burner valve off of the gas stove in the kitchen, below the window facing the team. No way to know that gas was pouring into the room, and certainly no way to know that Volkir's body smashing the glass would draw flame into fresh air, and then into the open cloud of gas filling the kitchen...
The bang was louder than Maeve had expected- The wall of flame rushed over her body and she skidded to a stop, unharmed but clothes singed. She could see through narrowed eyes the blinding brightness as Volkir was propelled behind some wall of the house and out of sight. Perhaps onto the roof. The kitchen wall splintered into bits, and popped a few more times for good measure before the gas pipes were melted shut.
Maeve threw up her hands out of instinct, and the explosion parted away from what was left of the team.
It did not, however, stop the momentum of Silvarae's corpse. The former Rune bearer's broken body, or what remained of it, continued out toward them. Her torso stopped a yard from Maeve's feet. A spurt of blood bounced upward where she hit the ground.
It splatted on Maeve's leg.
One of Silvarae's legs, however, was somewhere else.
"Z- Zero-" Maeve looked behind her, face white and flecked with ash. "We- we gonna fucking do something? Isa-" Her hands balled into fists, and she nodded toward the other side around of the building. "That way's- That way's better."
She cleared her throat as she took off around the alternate direction. There was less fire there, it seemed. "And that was a fucking lot."
And it smelled less like burned body.
Mitch blinked, and shook her head to a room where nobody could see. Chosen breaking ranks, odds dwindling, more and more lines converging in unfavorable directions. She swallowed, and kept tapping away at her machines. Amity and Saika had surged on ahead, but the team would not be so divided for long. Mitch tapped her com into the Blessed channel again, a new steel in her voice. "The body count is rising- Three, now." She cleared her throat. The evacuation alarms were still droning on in the endangered sector, and a few adjustments to the traffic grid on Mitch's end assured that nobody else would be coming in behind the team, at least not in a car.
"I've also fixed the lights for a few blocks around you- I'm rerouting any inbounders to keep bodies out of the way." Her eyes, owlish and tracking like a security turret behind their lenses, let on to far more of concern than her voice. There was nobody left to send after them if things went south- the security forces could not leave the gates weak, and the remainder of forces were on deployment. Normal police would just be flesh against something like this, and possibly tripping stones among chaos. "Good luck, and gods be with you."
-----
Maeve breathed in through her nose, and out through her mouth. She put her hands in her lap, folded. Then she fidgeted to shift the way she was sitting, and her hands found their way to her seat belt. Unclick. Click. She pulled at the edges of her gym shorts. Then, hands back in the lap. Her green eyes skimmed back and forth with a motion akin to reading as her gaze fixed on a spot out the window and followed it for a moment as they passed. It was an oddly nice day to go full-on Saturday morning cartoon on some 6'6" bitch, she thought.
She leaned back to look at the ceiling, flickered with a light on the roof. Someone cleared their throat. Her gaze and hands fell back into her lap.
Morgan was across from her. Weird kid. She opened her mouth to say something, maybe "we got this," perhaps, but nothing came out. She covered it with a cough, which gave her hands something else to do. She nodded to the disembodied voice, and cast a glance around when Clifton spoke. When she landed on Oren, she did manage to choke out, "I'm on you." What she really meant to say was, "I'm with you, on your mark." She didn't say that, and gave Silvarae a squeeze on the shoulder instead of horribly mangling the phrase "We can do this, but please don't run away on us."
The road wasn't peeling away fast enough. If this truck went any fucking slower, she was going to-
They stopped.
Thank the fucking gods, they stopped.
Maeve was standing as soon as she felt the parking break, and out the door before Clifton could even get it all the way open. Because Odin in an omelette, she was going to lose it if she sat in that sardine can for another fifteenth of a second. She caught sight of Makorai's flare, and definitely heard him.
Good- make the thing come to you. A fair fight on even footing was better than some running around nonsense. "We gonna do- Um." She looked to Oren, who seemed to know something about this. "Your call, boss."
"I've also fixed the lights for a few blocks around you- I'm rerouting any inbounders to keep bodies out of the way." Her eyes, owlish and tracking like a security turret behind their lenses, let on to far more of concern than her voice. There was nobody left to send after them if things went south- the security forces could not leave the gates weak, and the remainder of forces were on deployment. Normal police would just be flesh against something like this, and possibly tripping stones among chaos. "Good luck, and gods be with you."
-----
Maeve breathed in through her nose, and out through her mouth. She put her hands in her lap, folded. Then she fidgeted to shift the way she was sitting, and her hands found their way to her seat belt. Unclick. Click. She pulled at the edges of her gym shorts. Then, hands back in the lap. Her green eyes skimmed back and forth with a motion akin to reading as her gaze fixed on a spot out the window and followed it for a moment as they passed. It was an oddly nice day to go full-on Saturday morning cartoon on some 6'6" bitch, she thought.
She leaned back to look at the ceiling, flickered with a light on the roof. Someone cleared their throat. Her gaze and hands fell back into her lap.
Morgan was across from her. Weird kid. She opened her mouth to say something, maybe "we got this," perhaps, but nothing came out. She covered it with a cough, which gave her hands something else to do. She nodded to the disembodied voice, and cast a glance around when Clifton spoke. When she landed on Oren, she did manage to choke out, "I'm on you." What she really meant to say was, "I'm with you, on your mark." She didn't say that, and gave Silvarae a squeeze on the shoulder instead of horribly mangling the phrase "We can do this, but please don't run away on us."
The road wasn't peeling away fast enough. If this truck went any fucking slower, she was going to-
They stopped.
Thank the fucking gods, they stopped.
Maeve was standing as soon as she felt the parking break, and out the door before Clifton could even get it all the way open. Because Odin in an omelette, she was going to lose it if she sat in that sardine can for another fifteenth of a second. She caught sight of Makorai's flare, and definitely heard him.
Good- make the thing come to you. A fair fight on even footing was better than some running around nonsense. "We gonna do- Um." She looked to Oren, who seemed to know something about this. "Your call, boss."
*throws body into the floor* I WORK ON POST NOW
Also considering either having an Apple wander out of his hole, or if someone wandering needs to pop back in, they could potentially find Mitch.
But for now, Orion. ^.^ Did anyone want a chance to run away or anything, or is it okay for him to roll up?
Also considering either having an Apple wander out of his hole, or if someone wandering needs to pop back in, they could potentially find Mitch.
But for now, Orion. ^.^ Did anyone want a chance to run away or anything, or is it okay for him to roll up?
It would hardly be the longest I vanished for, but jsyk I'm probably going to be offline/unreachable from Sunday until possible Tuesday due to the hurry-cane rolling up my state.
I'm somewhere safe. Just banking on the power going down for a bit.
I'm somewhere safe. Just banking on the power going down for a bit.
There were a few things that warranted Maeve looking around for a film crew, just to make sure they were not shooting them all for really, really bad reality TV.
Clifton's statement was definitely one of them.
"What? That's not-"
She stood up, glanced between Oren and Clifton with her palms upturned as if waiting for the punchline to fall from the ceiling. "That's not even- That's not even funny! It's not-"
Everyone was moving as if something were actually happening. An alarm light on the wall began to blink. Maeve brushed her hair back from her face before yanking it into a ponytail, a half-snarl gracing her features. There was a switchblade in her pocket, but it did not feel like any insurance as the room seemed to stiffen.
Maeve cracked her neck. "Well. Fuck me sideways." She absently tapped Silvarae's side with the back of her hand, and took up a soft trot to meet up with Oren's stride. "So, this is for real?" she asked, voice soft as she took another quick survey of the group. "What the hell are we supposed to do about that? Half of these people look like they've never even fought in a schoolyard." She gripped the handle of the truck and stood outside, one foot on the bumper as she watched a few others file in.
She took a seat close to the window, watching with a bit more trepidation than she let show.
-----
Meanwhile, Mitch was typing.
She had stood as if to follow Kana out, but instead swung into her monitor-lined office.
The snake that eats the world had taken off down the hallway with pop cans, but it was far from Mitch's most immediate concern. They did not have people to spare chasing the serpent around, and honestly, Mitch had no idea what to do about it in the moment. Don't poke the sleeping bear, or, possibly, the pop-drinking snake.
One side of her headset was babbling, and the other was hooked into the Blessed's channel. There were notices popping up on the nearest screen, and her glance swung between one magnified window and the other. Her hands worked quickly, navigating countless windows and several messengers at once.
"She's on 22nd and Vine," Mitch said into the com, broadcasting it to the whole of the car. "Female, six-foot and a half, heading Southeast. Probably to the cross with 34th by the time you roll in. You may be able to cut her off, but the main objective is to drive her back away from the highest population centers."
A ping sounded in her ear, and she looked away from her lines of script to take in the message.
A flick of her fingers, and she switched com channels to speak only to the Blessed. "One confirmed death of ours. A second possible- I'm coming up on a few closing segments, here. Don't tell them."
Clifton's statement was definitely one of them.
"What? That's not-"
She stood up, glanced between Oren and Clifton with her palms upturned as if waiting for the punchline to fall from the ceiling. "That's not even- That's not even funny! It's not-"
Everyone was moving as if something were actually happening. An alarm light on the wall began to blink. Maeve brushed her hair back from her face before yanking it into a ponytail, a half-snarl gracing her features. There was a switchblade in her pocket, but it did not feel like any insurance as the room seemed to stiffen.
Maeve cracked her neck. "Well. Fuck me sideways." She absently tapped Silvarae's side with the back of her hand, and took up a soft trot to meet up with Oren's stride. "So, this is for real?" she asked, voice soft as she took another quick survey of the group. "What the hell are we supposed to do about that? Half of these people look like they've never even fought in a schoolyard." She gripped the handle of the truck and stood outside, one foot on the bumper as she watched a few others file in.
She took a seat close to the window, watching with a bit more trepidation than she let show.
-----
Meanwhile, Mitch was typing.
She had stood as if to follow Kana out, but instead swung into her monitor-lined office.
The snake that eats the world had taken off down the hallway with pop cans, but it was far from Mitch's most immediate concern. They did not have people to spare chasing the serpent around, and honestly, Mitch had no idea what to do about it in the moment. Don't poke the sleeping bear, or, possibly, the pop-drinking snake.
One side of her headset was babbling, and the other was hooked into the Blessed's channel. There were notices popping up on the nearest screen, and her glance swung between one magnified window and the other. Her hands worked quickly, navigating countless windows and several messengers at once.
"She's on 22nd and Vine," Mitch said into the com, broadcasting it to the whole of the car. "Female, six-foot and a half, heading Southeast. Probably to the cross with 34th by the time you roll in. You may be able to cut her off, but the main objective is to drive her back away from the highest population centers."
A ping sounded in her ear, and she looked away from her lines of script to take in the message.
A flick of her fingers, and she switched com channels to speak only to the Blessed. "One confirmed death of ours. A second possible- I'm coming up on a few closing segments, here. Don't tell them."
Maeve considered saying, "Now, Ladies, you're both very pretty."
She really did.
But her mother always said, "if yeh can't say somethin' nice, keep yer damn mouth shut, Maevie." And then there was the whole possibility of having both women she worked with hating her (and not in the fun "I like to punch you because you punch back" way) because, evidently, she was sandwiched between two people who could not take a joke (again, sandwiched in the absolutely no-fun way). Which was a shame, really, as neither of them would probably laugh if she gave them a tube of lube to pull the sticks out of their-
Isa was talking about stakes and dying. Like Maeve's soul. Slowly, slowly dying.
Moment gone.
Maeve, for what it was worth, had never hit a jotun. She'd faught some trolls, a varg shifter or two, but never a jotun. They weren't welcome customers, as far as the memos went. Fortunately, the strip had never seemed to be the priority of many jotun raids. Sex, liquor, and stale pretzels apparently didn't do it for everyone.
She smiled in Isa's direction, and nodded like she gave a shit. "Not that you asked me, but I'd probably set it on fire," she offered, sitting in the front row just so that she could place her foot on the platform when she tipped herself back. "Since, you know, I set stuff on fire. Assholes," she ticked off on one finger, and then proceeded, "in-laws, thugs, big spiders... And you could ice their asses! And Zero'll shield us while we cunt-punt the bastards into the sun. Honestly, we're fucking super heroes. What could happen, for Christ's sake?"
She really did.
But her mother always said, "if yeh can't say somethin' nice, keep yer damn mouth shut, Maevie." And then there was the whole possibility of having both women she worked with hating her (and not in the fun "I like to punch you because you punch back" way) because, evidently, she was sandwiched between two people who could not take a joke (again, sandwiched in the absolutely no-fun way). Which was a shame, really, as neither of them would probably laugh if she gave them a tube of lube to pull the sticks out of their-
Isa was talking about stakes and dying. Like Maeve's soul. Slowly, slowly dying.
Moment gone.
Maeve, for what it was worth, had never hit a jotun. She'd faught some trolls, a varg shifter or two, but never a jotun. They weren't welcome customers, as far as the memos went. Fortunately, the strip had never seemed to be the priority of many jotun raids. Sex, liquor, and stale pretzels apparently didn't do it for everyone.
She smiled in Isa's direction, and nodded like she gave a shit. "Not that you asked me, but I'd probably set it on fire," she offered, sitting in the front row just so that she could place her foot on the platform when she tipped herself back. "Since, you know, I set stuff on fire. Assholes," she ticked off on one finger, and then proceeded, "in-laws, thugs, big spiders... And you could ice their asses! And Zero'll shield us while we cunt-punt the bastards into the sun. Honestly, we're fucking super heroes. What could happen, for Christ's sake?"
Nah fam u prolly gucci we all kinda went *poof* for a hot second
Orion registered the bang, and shifted out of his camouflage into his former alloy form on instinct. A few errant shards clinked against his hide, but the lion share of the blast was several yards behind him by now. It was a wonder how anyone without a shield could survive something like that, but...
Well, the Knights had one another, and whatever backup would come for Knights.
If something took him down, there would be nobody coming back for Mitch. And she didn't need to be alone.
He shook his head and shifted into earth once again, taking off at a run toward the rugged settlement. It was doubtful that anyone would be more hospitable there, but it seemed less likely for whomever came out of the mess behind him to try and fight him somewhere that others may be inclined to pile on.
Well, the Knights had one another, and whatever backup would come for Knights.
If something took him down, there would be nobody coming back for Mitch. And she didn't need to be alone.
He shook his head and shifted into earth once again, taking off at a run toward the rugged settlement. It was doubtful that anyone would be more hospitable there, but it seemed less likely for whomever came out of the mess behind him to try and fight him somewhere that others may be inclined to pile on.
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