[Triskavanski]

Masq avoids drinking, a deeping feeling of dread coming closer one bleak dark November night. Using her three dimensional memory, she attempts to plot out the courses for a quick escape from the Banshee. She was never one to do these celebration events, finding it easier to just simply continue plotting and planning her next step.

The few that talk to her, she greets and keeps her responses fairly generic, so it would be easier to tell them all what she's been doing. Around two, she beings to stumble out of the party, acting as if she had been heavily drinking with everyone else that night as well.

The thing about  chaos and trickery, is getting too close it is hard to see the forest from the trees, but from afar, it would be far easier

[ismilealot]

@ Arachnid Ahead you feel something cold and dark and infinitely malevolent. And incredibly powerful. It turns and looks at you and smiles and a cold dread fills you. You don't know how you can be sure of all this. You can't see it at all. But you're sure.

@ Feathers  The crowd in the streets as you get close to the bakery block any traffic. And people are talking about another murder. Four more victims. As you look in that general direction eagle lands on a lamppost and you hear. "Horror walks again."

[SnowDragon]

If it were bright enough to see, one might almost see the colour draining from Arachnid's face. Fear might be a good term to use, if one was sure the man could even feel the emotion beneath all that ninja brainwashing stuff to make them all think and pretend they were supernatural hunters of man or something or whatever else it was they learned behind those doors and underneath those uniforms. In an instant, he regretted it. He regretted coming out here. He regretted not wearing the plate carrier. He was so woefully underprepared for this, for whatever it was, it was hardly an amusing scenario. The hairs were raised on the back of his neck. He had seen into what was not there and he had seen something terrible.

Urgently, he spoke under his breath, modulating his voice just loud enough that Arc and Duck would hear it. "Guns out. Now," Intensity dripped off his voice like a broken tap. The calm demeanor of the human had broken, which spoke to whatever it was he had seen or heard. His stance was lowered, muscles were clenching, especially around his weapon. He added, after a sort pause. "Something has spotted us. Spotted me," He added a hand motion with his empty hand, stabbing his palm forwards into the darkness.

[Triskavanski]

After getting far enough away from the party, she slipped on her mask, letting her disguise drop underneath. She could feel that party was going to attract something.. dangerous. Perhaps retaliation?

She pondered on whether or not she should release this information to the other clans, and have them duke it out right there. Maybe, maybe not.

[ismilealot]

@ Masquerade  As she walks she notices the quiet. More people are inside than out right now. Bit early for the pro's to be rolling up the carpet, but they're calls to him are more aggressive than usual. Almost . . . . desperate. He sees something unusual up ahead though as he gets closer to the center of town. Lights, flashing along the street, . . . searching? But no cops. Not that they'd come at this time of night anyway. And then one in white stops and holds up an arm. In a minute you see him draw  . . . .probably a gun from the movement.

[Triskavanski]

Masquerade was not a fighter. Not in the slightest. The only weapon she carried was a small holdout weapon, chosen for its compact design and ability to evade MAD detectors. They were cheap and plentiful weapons, easy to get a hold of as well. In her hands, that weapon was practically invisible.

But that was just the thing. Even if its stopping power was increased due to chemicals, it was still just a holdout pistol. A weapon she'd need guile and surprise to use it on her victims, poisoning them with its capsule rounds filled with a toxic payload.

So she immedeatly tucked back and away, moving to go down an alleyway and avoid the group. Her hearing shifts, craining her audio abilities to pick up the sounds of approaching footsteps. Each step of hers was absolutely silent, her gear was muffled with her movements. Could that be the killer?

[Poindexter]

Walking these streets at night always kinda made Duck feel like a deposed king these days. Like he used to run the place, and now he's back down with his beloved people. Tonight doesn't feel so beloved though. There's an aura in the air that isn't usually there, somehow a little bit more hopeless and dejected than usual on the streets tonight, and Duckdown can feel it in every fiber of his body as he and his two human friends make their way through the streets for hour after hour. They've just finished talking with a drunken low level ganger on his way home from a bar when they notice how late its getting. Thinking it might have covered all the ground they're going to on foot, Duck is about to suggest heading back to get the car when they hear it.

There's no sign until almost 3am, when you barely hear a flute playing much further east and a beautifully haunting melody and laughter floats towards you, loud and raucous, and ends with high-pitched glee.

The fuck is that?

Duck slows his pace and tries to stay in front of the two humans. The trio slowly approaches the sound and stops when Arachnid raises his hand.

"Guns out. Now, Something has spotted us. Spotted me,"

Duck doesn't really like using the piece unless he has to, but something about that tone in 'Rack's voice makes him uneasy. As the trio slowly approaches the corner, he's got his left hand inside the breast of his tattered grey hoodie, resting on the handle of his ingram and his right hand tensed, ready to pop spur at a moment's notice. He sends off a message on his Sensei right quick.

<<@Zipline [Duckdown] Found something strange over here. Investigating. ARO included.>>

[Tamesh]

@ Red & Khali w. At least there's nothing happening until about 3 am and a flute plays a beautifully haunting melody and laughter floats towards you from the east, loud and raucous, and ends with high-pitched glee. It's faint, but the wind and the relative quiet are enough to allow you to hear it.

Red does her best to ignore the condescension from the co-workers and assorted vagrants passing by. It's really nothing she hasn't heard before. And it's not as if any sort of reaction is going to make matters any better. For the majority of the night Red makes sure her patrol crosses Khali's at a few points. Not that they're holding hands the entire time or anything, but it's a little easier to keep the long night shifts going with a familiar face around. She does make a point of listening to Gerald, though. Not that she's deeply enfranchised in his well-being, but because it's always good to build connections when given the chance. All those SK classes on networking really stuck with her.

Around 3 when the odd noises start to come from the east, her interest is piqued. Not quite piqued enough to leave her post just yet, but she does what she can. The elf makes her way to a high point on the building to try and get a look at the direction the noises are coming from. Probably just gangers or drunks, but it's at least something to break up the monotony.

[Csjarrat]

Nbungu, I don't know if you're here yet but something big is kicking off, looks like someones been badly hurt...or worse..
Feathers looked at eagle and nodded. His intervention was always significant, which meant whatever had happened here was no trivial matter. Feathers pushed forwards as best he could through the crowd, apologising as he forcefully moved through the crowd to see what was going on.

[SgtBoomCloud]

After killing the ignition, Arc took a moment to prepare herself, flipping open the glove box and withdraw a few of its contents.  The Ingram was loaded with a clip before being stuffed behind her under the hoodie, taking a place next to the Predator.  Spare clips for both guns fit into mini-holsters about her hips, all covered up by her baggy sweatshirt.  Finally, a couple patches in one pocket, a pair of shock gloves into the same, and a small round object with a pin on it into her other.  Satisfied, she closed up the glove box, locked up the car, and joined the trio just in time for Zip to notice her.

"Hoi, Zip." She had a confident grin on as she walked, fitting her trodes headband around her forehead under her goggles to make communication easier.  She was about to speak up and ask where they should go before the answer was given to her:

@ Duck, Arc & Arachnid Godra answers you, "Don't be tellin me my bidness wit Godra an you smokin' it too. You know she don't do more then Zen offen'." "But you wanna make your sorry, uppity-ass useful 'stead a yappin' you can take east."

Giving a salute, she bounded off with the trio without another word, scanning through the alleys and sidestreets for the little orkette, goggles on.  When able, she used the light the others provided, but when she didn't, those close could hear a soft whirring coming from her eyes as they shifted to infrared, picking up the heat signatures of the various denizens, but nothing matching their target.  The hour grew late, the streets grew dark, and Arc was getting steadily on edge, a feeling of dread over her.  "Maan...when your niece wants to hide, she can hiide.."

That's when she heard it.  Ears perking up, the short human darted her head towards the source of the music, eyes scanning the source, the display on her goggles helping identify what was what.  Her gaze narrowed, catching the eery tune of it.  "Ahh....terrible taste in tunage.." She cracked nervously, just as Arachnid popped up.

"Guns out. Now," Intensity dripped off his voice like a broken tap. The calm demeanor of the human had broken, which spoke to whatever it was he had seen or heard. His stance was lowered, muscles were clenching, especially around his weapon. He added, after a sort pause. "Something has spotted us. Spotted me," He added a hand motion with his empty hand, stabbing his palm forwards into the darkness.

With a speed of someone used to defending herself, the human girl snapped into action. Reaching into a pocket, she pulled on one of the gloves over her hand before reaching back, withdrawing her Ingram and clicking the safety off.  Fraaaaaaaaag.....so much for a quiet night.  The things my luck gets me into...  Her stance had widened, a few steps taken to the side to give her a line clear of the other two, jaw set in.  "What've we got...." she spoke quietly, barely more than a whisper as she tried to take a peek at their unknown entity: 6d6t5 2

[Landmine]

@ Red & Khali You're joined by a human almost as big as a troll with more 'tats and body piercing than most. He looks both of you up and down with disdain and his lip curls as he sneers, "Must be gettin desperate to hire a couple fancy bits used to guardin' wageslave parties. How many party platters you saved with that bit." and he narrows his eyes and juts his chin at your piece Red. Then he gives you both a look of disgust. "You give me any trouble 'bout walkin' and your dainty little feet I'll kill you myself. I aint here for no party." and he heads off to the perimeter. He's got a heavy padded vest on as well as padded leather pants and he's packing 2 heavy pistols and an auto-shot. The night passes about as uneventfully as it can here. Although close to midnight you see what's almost certainly some kind of house fire lighting up the night sky. But here most know that the warehouse is under Ancient protection and aside from a few stumbling drunks and quite a few catcalls aimed at each of you at various times you only have to warn off a few of the homeless. At about 1am a truck drives up to the gate and is allowed in. It disappears into the warehouse and is there less than an hour before it drives out again. As the night wears on you find out your companion's name is Gerald and he and his wife are expecting a baby. Their first and he's recently lost work as a loader at another warehouse when it got raided. His wife doesn't know he's out here. He hasn't told her because she would worry and he doesn't want her stressed out right now. At least there's nothing happening until about 3 am and a flute plays a beautifully haunting melody and laughter floats towards you from the east, loud and raucous, and ends with high-pitched glee. It's faint, but the wind and the relative quiet are enough to allow you to hear it.

"We'll hold up our end," Khali does her best to ignore Gerald. People like him can't be convinced with words and she's not interested in a fight.

Red does her best to ignore the condescension from the co-workers and assorted vagrants passing by. It's really nothing she hasn't heard before. And it's not as if any sort of reaction is going to make matters any better. For the majority of the night Red makes sure her patrol crosses Khali's at a few points. Not that they're holding hands the entire time or anything, but it's a little easier to keep the long night shifts going with a familiar face around. She does make a point of listening to Gerald, though. Not that she's deeply enfranchised in his well-being, but because it's always good to build connections when given the chance. All those SK classes on networking really stuck with her.

Around 3 when the odd noises start to come from the east, her interest is piqued. Not quite piqued enough to leave her post just yet, but she does what she can. The elf makes her way to a high point on the building to try and get a look at the direction the noises are coming from. Probably just gangers or drunks, but it's at least something to break up the monotony.

Khali perks up when Red seems to take notice of the music as well. "You heard it too? I thought it was my imagination." When Red scrambles up onto the roof, Khali walks to the edge of the perimeter and tries to get a sense of how far away the the source is.

perception - flute: 11d6t5 2

[SnowDragon]

With hand motions done, Arachnid adopted a stable stance, the classic weaver pose for accuracy and recoil control of the unsupressed Colt semi-automatic. Guns were pulled out all around him, which gave him some small comfort. He was aiming now, down range at something he couldn't see but could only feel. Wide footbase as well, every step slow, and calculated, rolling with his toetip first and then back on his heel to minimise his sound. At the whispered question off to his left from Arc, he motioned ahead again, and began to advance further towards the source of the terrible feeling.

"Something hugely unfriendly. Evil, even," He swiftly added, taking slow, long steps forwards towards the source of the sound. He knew it was ahead. He touched out with senses again and recoiled at once, hissing lowly under his breath. They were blown. Whatever it was, they knew they were here.

[ismilealot]

@ Red & Khali You strain to hear it. But you're certain it's there. It doesn't last long, it's gone almost as soon as you've got a good idea of where it came from. But from your vantage point on the roof you can see what rises to the sky afterwards. It's form is that of a man, but much larger and it's jerking and twisting as if it's being tortured, and then it spins gleefully and laughs once more and as it throws its head back a slit opens wide on the throat and blood drips out, and that thing keeps laughing and is gone.

@ Duck, Arc, Arachnid  Masquerade That hideous laughter stops for a moment. And then you hear it above you. But the buildings between you and that malevolent sound keep you from seeing anything.

@ Feathers The crowd doesn't seem to be paying much attention to you as you push your way through. All talk is about what they heard someone else say and what they think happened. But, the smell is unmistakeable. Only blood smells like that. More to the point, you've seen a reference as to how it smells in a book warning you about blood magic and it's effects. And this smells like that description.

[SgtBoomCloud]

Arc was gritting her teeth so hard, any semblance of a dentist would be smacking the back of her hand.  Dread filled her senses as she listened to that god-awful eery flute sounds, yet unable to locate the source even in thermographics.  "Evil, huh...how poetic.." she chuckled dryly, clearly nervous as she held her Ingram out in both hands.

And then the cackling shifted, coming from above.

It took Arc literally every sensible ounce of courage in her to hold her composure: 6d6t5 3, but she was definitely and clearly scared at this point.  "The frag...?!"  She snapped her aim upward, resisting the urge to fire off a number of rounds to scare off the source.  Instantly, her mind snapped to the reports, the string of killings, the grins... Oh, drek, the grins!  Laughter!  Frag, drek, hells, DAMN IT ALL!  Turning to glance at the other two, she had widened her stance, clearly not wanting to be there and looking to their toughened appearances for direction.

[SnowDragon]

He could hear it! It was close, on top of them infact. The buildings close to him. left, no, right, right. Definately right. Arachnid turned and leveled his weapon upwards, towards the rooves. Sembalance of sneaking and cover torn asunder by the closeness of the noise and the terrifying goings on all around them. This situation was entirely out of control and they had to get it back before something equally as bad happened *to* them instead of it going on *around* them. Arachnid shouted out. "We have Fie contact!" And then, he opened fire. He fired four quick shots across the rooves, following the source of the laughter on air, the too-loud unsuppressed electronically tinted rattling bang of his electrically fired Colt, bright yellow muzzle flash lighting up all around.