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Nava Arnumi
Outside of Ma's Diner


Outside the diner things had become chaotic as a generic pop song blared into everyone's ears, and a graphic hologram of a live performance took place. Even if it seemed random, there was something dark and alluring about the whole set up, that seemed to almost draw the listeners outside ( Neo Alice Neo Alice ).

The woman who had come into the diner had come back out again, blue eyes as hard as steel ( Silver- Silver- ) as she told them that they were in danger and needed to get out of there as soon as she could.

It was at this time where Nava felt like she wanted to hide. Whenever she felt like this, to anyone who wasn't trying to look at her, it was hard for them to notice she was there, even if she was right in front of them.

She watched at the witch Hemlock and the man ( Yahhah Yahhah Pacificus Pacificus ) were in discussion in hearing range, the woman having an assortment of what looked to be materials with magic components in her hands.

She turned to Selef as he said they should leave, her eyes wide ( Aurus Aurus ) as she nodded quickly.
"Yeah... I'm... not so good at fighting," she said, fumbling around for her knife in her purse. She was better at disappearing than at taking offense.
 
Farron Giroux
Tags: Pacificus Pacificus Aurus Aurus 4scorelightnings 4scorelightnings Yahhah Yahhah Neo Alice Neo Alice

Farron watched with a mixture of surprise and anxiety as the group she’d warned mostly began preparing themselves for battle. The human slipped on an array of weapons, stacking on artillery until only the most necessary areas of his body were free to allow efficient movement for the battle to come. The dragon had admitted they wouldn’t be of much assistance, Farron nodding her head in acknowledgement to this and knowing now that there wasn’t enough time to convince them nor should she really waste her breath trying to spare details that would be forgotten in the heat of the skirmish. The music that played was a tell-tale sign of the appearance of The Hive and its handful of members that were as powerful as an entire group of Hunters. A sigh of what sounded like exasperation left the woman’s lips, her hand coming to rub the back of her neck in a casual gesture. “There are three members of this group. They’re called ‘The Hive’. They’re all ex-Coven, Athena and Hunter members.” She knew they would require some context if they were to really jump into the fray but her eyes grew unusually cold, steeling themselves as she murmured. “If you come across a tall woman whom speaks directly into your thoughts, you have to do everything in your power to suppress her and leave the vicinity.” Farron would also drag them away from this if the situation called for it as well but she wouldn’t mention that for their sake.

“Anyone that cannot fight, has to leave, now.” Her words were firm, steel gaze cutting towards the dragon and Nava who’s image was beginning to waver for whatever reason, as if she were simply fading from existence. Casey had already begun to apprehend the vampire huntress whom hissed an excited taunt to him, Farron nodding to Hemlock now to answer her question in regard to whether or not she could take care of him. “I’ll take care of him if you could see to bringing these two to safety.” Angling her head towards Selef and Nava, her eyes softening a bit at dryad’s fumbling through her bag. “Keep each other safe, please.” There was a hidden note of something in the way she spoke, as if she’d already known each of them for years and the thought of losing any of them would be a weight she’d carry for far too long. Bowing a bit to the witch, Farron bounded around the corner to help Casey fight the vampire. The sound of air whistling as something fell rapidly had her darting away to catch a glimpse of a hand receding into thin air whilst a cube-like object hummed with hot-white energy that sent her instincts to the loudest level. The blinding light of a cage zapped into view, recognition hardening her eyes once more as she rolled into a crouch, having just barely dodged it.

What had been meant to incarcerate her instead cut a clean part of the diner with it, shrieks from inside uproaring as people began to scatter. They would be safe from all this if they ran as The Hive had an agenda and didn’t seem to be going after civilians. The relief was brief though as the cube proved to be more than just a familiar tactic, but something that she’d seen before during her time in Athena. “Galadriel..”, her eyes widened at the sight of the cube morphing rapidly, distorted roars emitting as a golem tore itself from the light and defined its shape into an enemy that would now keep her busy. Hopefully Casey could handle the vampire for a little while but she’d keep a definite eye out for him when she could. Her stormy gaze lifted skyward, a brief sadness flitting through them as she slipped red and black fingerless gloves onto her hands that she’d had in her pockets to ready herself. “I wish I’d tried harder to find you.”
 
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Silver Blackwood
Tags: BoomersAndMash BoomersAndMash PixelSymphony PixelSymphony Neo Alice Neo Alice

Stay out of my head. The woman had spoken as if she was overreacting; simply washing her hands of any anger or pain that Silver had held for her as if it meant nothing and held no purpose. A part of Silver wished she could be so logical, to approach situations without even a hint of wavering towards who stood underneath their prowess, but then again she knew better than to have such an obvious weakness. Ophelia spoke temptations of being able to relieve her of the Coven, to destroy the very establishment that had both made and broken her. She couldn’t face that—not yet.

Silver snapped at empty air where Ophelia’s face would’ve been, her taut body lunging upwards before Harper momentarily replaced her image as Silver focused once more. The shifting between reality and illusion would make this far more difficult than intended, but still, she could not pass this chance. The older werewolf was quick to leap away out of range, Silver allowing a deep growl to rumble from her chest now as her amber-gold gaze clashed with Harper’s, her fur bristled but her body was loose, readied for sudden movements.

Silver observed the werewolf closely, her paws splayed defensively and her body positioned in a manner that she could capture movements from either of them but she did not move from her spot now. Not yet. Hesitance flooded the older wolf’s eyes, giving Silver a moment to cut her blistering gaze towards the demon whom made the decision to make the first move. Her movements were nearly a blur as she lithely made her way onto the truck bed in order to brandish a shotgun that now perched atop her shoulder, the older wolf now sizing her up as she circuited her. She didn’t seem to want to fight, but not because she wasn’t up to the challenge but because there was someone she wanted to protect.

Silver stared straight into Harper’s eyes, unwavered by her snarls and warnings. She was a seasoned werewolf for sure, her aura exuded Alpha tendencies but without the strength of her pack behind her and Silver’s feral roots, she had no concept of a pack nor of their traditions to lower themselves to those of greater strength. A husk of a human with a beast trapped beneath her skin.

The white wolf couldn’t tell if Harper’s warning was for Val or out of pity for her but she didn’t give either of them a chance to react this time. Fueled by Ophelia’s oppressing presence, Silver lunged forward in the blink of an eye and sunk her bone-crushing jaws around the side of Harper’s neck, using the truck to partially cover her flank from being shot at point blank by the demon with her finger on the trigger. It would prove to be far more difficult for the demon to shoot if their companion was engaged in a wild haze of fang and claw. Blood rushed into Silver’s mouth, painting her muzzle crimson as a flurry of guttural snarls escaped the dancing wolves.
 
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HAPER STEELBITE

Location: Sheriff parking lot Time: 2:56PM

The display that Val put on with her flips and what have you did not impress Harper in the least bit. She told her no flashy moves and what does Val do the minute she is ordered to get into the truck for safety? Flashy moves. But her unimpressed look turned to slight panic when she saw the demon grab her shotgun and point it straight at the feral werewolf, saying that it was going to be alright and she had her back. No! No no no! This was not the plan at all! She was making herself a target to the feral, pointing the gun at it!

'No what is she doing!? She needs to get into the truck! She needs to get to safety! She needs to-'

A loud cry cut through the air. Harper's eyes widen in shock as she felt the fangs slice into her neck and the warm liquid of blood began to pour out. Barging her fangs her eyes snapped from where Val was to Silver, who had a grip on her neck. Her eyes changed fully to a golden hue, the beast, though injured had been summoned to fight. Her body started to change, grey fur replacing her skin, her arms turning into front legs and her paws were larger than that of an average wolf. Her back legs spread apart as her body seemed to stretch longer, but her eyes, her eyes never once turned away from Silver. They held anger against the feral but also a hint of regret for what she was about to do.

Bringing up her front paws Harper pushed on Silver chest with all her might to get her off her neck. She snarled loudly, curling her lips up baring her fangs, as her growls rumbled like thunder. Harper pushed with her paws while pulling her neck away at the same time. She needed to get free and then gain ground. The wound on her neck, though serious was nothing she couldn't handle. It was just a werewolf bite, not like it was pure silver in her veins. A werewolf bite will take time to heal but it's non life threatening, unless they are mortally wounded. But what is mortally wounded to a human is different to a werewolf. A bite to a neck to a human would spell death. A bite to the neck to a werewolf spells blood loss and scarring.

'I'm going to return the favor, feral. I don't seek revenge but this is a lesson you need to be taught.'

Interaction: Silver- Silver- PixelSymphony PixelSymphony
 
Ophelia, Galadriel & Verónica
Location: The Hive's HQ (Formerly known as God's Eye Foundation for Humanity's Survival)

Interactions: Pacificus Pacificus Silver- Silver- BoomersAndMash BoomersAndMash



The real Ophelia, still concealed in the illusion of her own death, pressed her ear activating the communicating device inside of it. It would be far easier to have a psychic link between the three but it's only on rare occasions that Galadriel lowers her psychic firewalls for high risk missions. "The Agent has recognized you, Cypher, somehow. It appears that Athena has gathered more information about The Hive than anticipated. Not nearly enough, of course, just the tip of the iceberg." The Psyqueen smirks as she focuses now on the target, from the records gathered by Cypher it was easy enough to figure out his major weakness. Still, she would have to search in his own mind and bring those weaknesses to the surface. Her hands reached deep in his subconscious mind, plucking every fear and secret buried within it until finally she chose the one that could petrify him, even for a second. His childhood trauma, the instability of a world filled with monsters ready to eat you and your loved ones at any second without a warning.

For Casey it was like being a kind all over again, he was physically smaller as well as psychologically. The gun was heavier and the armor bigger, his confidant and confortable stance was now an awkward shriveling body not strong enough to carry such weaponry and surely not capable of fighting the monster inside of him. "Oh, you mean like this?" Finally Verónica spoke, she's taller now... no, she didn't grew at all it's him who's no longer at eye-level with her. The vampire put both hands up, crossing them at the wrists like waiting for handcuffs. However, she wasn't alone anymore as everyone else in the vicinity were also Verónicas with bloody mouths. In Casey's mind information was totally disturbed to make him see and hear everyone else as a copy of Verónica, even their voices and words were changed to fit the illusion's purpose.

After taking care of Casey's immobilization, Ophelia spoke through the inter-communicators once more. "Slight change of plans, a secondary target is in place. Cypher, handle the white werewolf. Diasomnia continue your task as planned." The Angel knew better than to question Ophelia's motives during a mission but she was clearly intrigued by this new directive, this promised to be interesting. Meanwhile, the real Verónica drew out a vial with a neon red liquid in it and loaded it in one of her pistols. WIth a quick pull of the trigger a flash of neon energy flew from the pistol to the Human's head and knocked him backwards, ending the illusion he was in from the shock of course. "Primary objective cleared." She said through the intercom and smiled while vanishing from the stage, her body hidden by the illusion of a stage being there to begin with.

Still invisible Galadriel takes out the vials in her purse, she only brought them as spares in case the main one would break on the fight. "Let's see... Hm... Oh, i know, an arctic wolf duh." She thought to herself while putting away the other colored vials and leaving in her hand the neon blue one, she forms a replica of Verónica's gun in her left hand and loads it in. The angel takes a moment to aim at her distracted target and pulls the trigger without hesitation, the flash of blue ice lands on the wolf's head and shocks her a bit as her brain is overloaded by the psychic energy. "Roger that, Secondary target has been administered the serum as well. All ready to go." She spoke through the inter-communicator after finishing her new task, in record time at that. The Golem was furiously fighting the Athena Agent but that wasn't enough for her at this point, she recognized it as one of her creations and from the golem she heard how they wished to have searched more for her. The furious angel clenched her fists as her voice was spoken by the golem itself. "Oh, you'll wish it harder now, that's for bloody sure. Initiate Querub Protocol!" The golem's eyes burned bright red light and it stopped fighting the athena agent, instead he began to consume inorganic matter from all sources available. Of course big part of the dinner was part of that, so the owners would have to cash big at their insurance company.

"Querub protocol initiated, Battle Seraph awakening in 3... 2... 1..." The golem was engulfed in iridescent light for a moment, all of its form melted in pure light shaped like in a cocoon. The light solidified, beautiful white feathers with a tint of metallic gold sprouted open like an angelic butterfly emerging at last. Her skin was milky white, flawless and her hair made from pure strings of shiny gold carefully placed to mimic regular hair. "My master is upset, you shall pay the price for your crimes!" She flew as fast as she could towards the agent and directed her left fist to Farron's chin, although her body appeared to be flesh and blood it's also made from hard metal like her hair.

8b6b5b874d14658e522e43c8dd4efed9.gif
 
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Whirlwind ~

Status
Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Semi-formal outfit
Holding: Harper's Shotgun
Carrying: 2x pistol, 2x dagger
Location: Outside Sheriff's office, Hartfield, AZ
Time: 2:56 PM

Damnit! Harper getting into close combat with the other wolf was exactly the opposite of what she wanted to have happen; between the enemy wolf pulling some strange angles to her position and now this, there was no way she was going to get a clear shot off. Well shit, now what do I- Her thoughts came to a halt as the wolf took a large bite in the side of Harper's neck, blood spraying into the air crimson and wet. "Harper!" She screamed, aiming the shotgun anew but having to hold her fire as she saw the older hunter began to unleash the beast. The transformation was faster than she expected; one moment there was a weather woman in a flannel shirt standing there bleeding in the parking lot, the next a vicious, growling monster of a gray wolf, still bleeding, but now ferociously indicating to the other to back down.

At the same time this was all occurring, a crescendo of sound caught Val's attention, and, turning her attention momentarily to the distance, she could faintly hear the music... stop? Change? Something about it was off, and it was beginning to get more and more worrisome, particularly with this all happening at the same time. "HARPER!" She yelled again, hoping to get through to the werewolf. "SOMETHING'S GOING ON AT THE DINER! WE NEED TO GO, NOW!"

---

Interaction: BoomersAndMash BoomersAndMash
Mention: Silver- Silver-
 
"Wooah." Casey was began taken aback by the sudden and intense hallucinations. Clones? Duplicates? Illogical. Unheard of. He ignored them. He moved to talk but suddenly couldn't find the strength to move the 10 muscles associated with the action. "When in doubt..." He used the mere 3 muscles required to pull the trigger. The muzzle had drifted down to point at the vampires chest. He couldn't control the recoil, but it didn't matter. He held down for as long as he could before something struck him on the head and he was knocked down, causing the gun to fall to fall from his already loose grip.

Casey's head snapped back and he fell down onto the pavement. The impact wasn't alot, but he could barely stand up as he was. When he hit the pavement, his mind began to clear. He rolled over onto his hands and knees and didn't hesitate to retaliate. He spat onto the pavement and yanked his 1911 from its holster. He brought the powerful .45 pistol to bear, but found no target. He hesitated. Was the stage an illusion too? He grinned. "Probably." He pulled the trigger slowly and unloaded 4 rounds into the vampires previous place on the stage.

( Neo Alice Neo Alice Silver- Silver- Yahhah Yahhah )
 
Silver Blackwood
Tags: BoomersAndMash BoomersAndMash PixelSymphony PixelSymphony Neo Alice Neo Alice

Harper’s cry flattened the white wolf’s ears to her head, jaws sinking down on the target she’d deemed as prey whilst a familiar irony tang swept into her palette. Power strummed from the older werewolf like a trigger that had been pulled once her eyes shone a golden hue, the real opponent now being forcibly summoned from its den. Pressure struck down at Silver’s chest, splayed wide as Harper’s large paws collectively held her weight to strike her as a means of removing her iron grip. She could hear the sound of her own ribs beginning to groan as the older werewolf didn’t hold back this time, her breath coming in aggravated sputters in response to Harper’s snarling and her head feeling lighter and lighter as the scent of blood melded with the taste and her swift gasps until her grip eased and Silver tore herself away.

The air itself seemed to stir as something drew close, Silver snapping her head to the right for a split second as something was being hurtled towards them. Without thinking, she lunged forward without her fangs bared, barreling Harper over in order to force her onto the ground just as something stabbed straight into the back of her head. At first, a flicker of self-doubt sprung into Silver’s mind. Had she just protected somebody? Why hadn’t she simply attacked the werewolf again? Ophelia’s words whispered tauntingly in her thoughts, you hate the Coven, don’t you? An icy chill flared in the nape of her neck, bringing Silver to a stagger as she struggled to stand like a fawn that had just gotten used to it’s legs. Her head lowered, allowing both Val and Harper to catch a glimpse of the neon blue serum draining into Silver before she fell to the ground, labored breaths and choked cries escaping her maw as a cold fever shocked her body and mind.

Silver could feel her body fighting whatever had been administered to her seconds after it had drained entirely, her vision blacking out briefly as if vertigo had wrapped itself tautly around her, her concept of time blurring as her head seemed to be spinning. Blindly, she scrabbled for pawhold as everything felt all too hot yet so very cold at the same time, her body convulsing at it threatened to shift and reveal her human form. Her instincts screamed for her to leave, to give up her task no matter the cost in order to conserve her life and what little energy she had left as she could feel her limbs going numb with what felt like frostbite. Her eyes were unseeing as her pupils constricted to bright blue slits, an eerie breath of cold radiating from her body before the snapping of bones echoed as Silver convulsed, shifting between human and wolf repeatedly; dark and light flashing before them while cries of pain howled from both bodies.

The last time she’d been forced to transform had been during her first shift when her wolf had taken command. The first shift was always the worst and now she had to re-live it more than twice. It wasn’t long before her pupils dilated back to their regular size and color, amber-gold burning like weak embers as her flank rose and fell with ragged breaths. She focused now, a stubborn growl rumbling from her scrunched up maw as she lay there at the mercy of both the demon and the werewolf now. Val’s voice faded into her ears with increasing volume but her words were important: the music was gone. Ophelia would not have left so easily after making a racket so what had she just done? Had she been a part of whatever was chilling her to the core now? Flashes of heat and cold still ebbed and flowed through her in waves, the scent of fever mixed with whatever had been shot into her could be easily picked up by others of her kind. She couldn’t stand feeling so weak.

Silver started to get to her paws, having obvious difficulty as she staggered into a low crouch, her eyes narrowed slits as she looked between them both. That demon has a great shot at me now, she huffed to Harper in a manner only she could translate. Doing her best to appear not as inept, Silver lifted herself and made space between her and Harper, edging in the direction of the front of her truck as if to take cover in order to escape. It felt like her legs were made of jelly, sinews threatening to buckle her as they ached with every wave of temperature influx but her fur remained bristled, eyes staring at those whom had the upper hand with indecipherable thoughts. Whatever she’d been hit with was now beginning to flow through her and she could feel her body succumbing to its effects.
 
Farron Giroux
Tags: Pacificus Pacificus Neo Alice Neo Alice | Mentions: Yahhah Yahhah

“Shit!” Farron could only watch as her promise to the witch was broken as the human she was supposed to have protected was immobilized by the vampire before him. Any attempt she made to draw closer to him was blocked by the golem to which she snarled at wolffishly, her gloves having worn exponentially at their knuckles, the fabric barely holding on as blood drenched it from Farron’s constant scraping and healing over. The furious dance of jabs, pulled punches and kicks continued as Farron learned the way the golem moved swiftly, her window of an opening turning into distraught when after looking away for a few heartbeats resulted in a shot being fired. One, no, two? She didn’t know.

Farron rolled through one of the golem’s moves, hissing in pain when she was clipped on her side as pain stabbed her insides. It didn’t matter, something had happened to the one she was supposed to protect. The others seemed to have taken shelter, thankfully, but before she could reach Casey, he’d already recovered from the nasty fall to her surprise. Humans were durable? She whipped her head around when a voice uproared from the golem now, her stomach dropping when she recognized Galadriel’s angered tone. The diner took the brunt of the angel’s spite as the golem seized an entirely new form enveloped in light.

“Shooting isn’t going to make a difference anymore, you have to get out of here!” Farron called to Casey as the shots rang loudly, causing her to flinch when she realized how battered she was already becoming. “You can’t win this!” She didn’t know if she said that for him or to them both but the upgraded golem gave her no time to think as she voiced Galadriel’s feelings. Farron loosened her body up as the golem flew towards her, changing her fighting style to accommodate how fast her opponent was bound to be as well as the fact that fighting was useless if Casey had been dosed with something. She knew of The Hive and now Galadriel but their sophisticated plans were unknown even to that of Athena. Whatever he’d been hit with was bound to rack his human body and Farron couldn’t allow him to fight any longer for risk of him getting captured or killed.

Farron exhaled softly before carefully moving just barely to the side of the golem’s readied fist, instead grabbing it by the wrist and throwing them into the ground with a hard slam, her eyes shadowed with restrained anger. She didn’t like having to fully harm her opponents, no matter what their species, as Athena was against violent tactics but at this point they were a threat. Pulling harshly, metal screeched in her ears like nails on a chalkboard, her eyes glowing feverishly as she felt her wolf stir at the awful noise. This golem had no bones? It was made of earth and the hardest type was metal, she reminded herself, soon tearing the golem’s arm whilst pressing her foot down square on its backside with as much of her strength as she could muster. If she could at least incapacitate the golem to some degree, there might be a chance for Casey or the both of them to get away. Her arms trembled effort as her unhealed wounds painted her hands and side crimson.
 
HARPER STEELBITE

Location: Sheriff parking lot Time: 3:00PM

Val was shouting at her to return to the truck but the beast wanted to nothing more than to teach this feral a lesson She snapped at Silver while pushing her weight onto the white wolf still. It had been so long since she had been in a fight like this and her beast side was shaken and angry. It did not like being made a fool of, nor challenged by a younger werewolf. 'You picked a fight you can not win, pup! I warned you to stay away! I told you to leave!' she snarled and growled for only Silver to understand. Her head continued to pull roughly trying to break free from the grip, she could feel Silver jaw loosen with each tug. Soon she would be able to retaliate against her.

Just as she was about to break free a strange crack of the wind caught her attention. Her ears pinned back to the source trying to figure out what is happening. Did someone fire a gun? Is it another Hunter thinking they were a bounty? Or was it Coven coming to try and take them out? Harper felt her body weight shift and the pressure in her neck release. Soon her body was on the ground and Silver was on top of her. For a moment the older werewolf snapped at Silver's paws to get her off. She didn't want to be pinned down and have her throat exposed.

'Get out! We need to get out of here! Move!'

Right when Harper tried to wiggle out of Silver grip the other werewolf got off of her. Something seemed off though, they seemed to be distracted or hurt. Watching closely it was when she noticed a syringe in the back of Silver neck that had some blue liquid being injected into her. This caused Harper's guard to go up and her body splayed out in a defensive stance, ears pinned fully back and teeth bared. She let out a loud warning growl to whoever was hiding in the shadows that attacked Silver. Though they were both fighting to what seemed like the death whoever just shot Silver seemed like a bigger threat now.

'They're in trouble. Whatever they're shot with it has a strange smell. And they're having trouble controlling their beast now. What caused this? Val! Go back to Val!'

Harper's head turned back towards the truck in fear as she saw Val still holding her gun and ready to fire. She was safe and sound, thank goodness. Whoever was here wasn't targeting Val. But the music had changed and the air seemed heavier. Something was going on at the diner and they needed to go back. Even with her injuries she couldn't let this town fall in the hands of whoever was trying to do harm. Silver would have to wait another time. And it seemed she was having issues herself. She had moved in front of her truck in what looked like an escape attempt and if it wasn't for what was happening at the diner, Harper would chase after them.

'Let her go. She has bigger issues going on than us. We will see her again soon enough.'

Huffing loudly Harper moved to the truck and with little effort jumped into the back with Val. She laid down in the bed and looked at the demon in the eyes. For what had happened earlier Val had shown her worth that she could be trusted. And Harper needed to trust her more than ever with this threat. Her eyes glanced to the driver seat and then back to Val as if saying "You drive us." She didn't want to change back into her human form if they were going to fight again, her human side was weakened by the bite and would need time to heal. But that time was not now. The diner needed to be rescued and so did this town.

Interaction: PixelSymphony PixelSymphony Silver- Silver-
Mention: Neo Alice Neo Alice
 
Ophelia, Galadriel & Verónica

Location: Outside of Ma's Diner -> The Hive's HQ

Interactions: Silver- Silver-

Mentions: Pacificus Pacificus

The Battle Seraph used her wings to sweep away the agent's feet and mark a distance between the two, of course she knew her purpose was to make time and she was making an excellent job at that. She was a quick creation, of course her abilities were not properly cultivated, it wasn't necessary though her physical strength would suffice for the moment. In the meantime, Ophelia and the rest of The Hive made their quick getaway the same way they came: using Cypher's wings and concealed by her powers. Eventually the stage vanished too and the Battle Seraph crumbled in pieces of golden metal that then turned into a pile of ashes.

Along the way she couldn't stop thinking about Farron, her words... she pitied her? She was sad for her? That bitch... When will she realize that "Athena" isn't what it seems. "Why the sudden change of plans?" Said Galadriel after landing, her wings reattaching to her back. She wanted to distract herself with something more interesting. "It's not every day you deviate from your agenda." She walked inside with the rest of the group, awaiting for an answer.

"I thought it was weird too Psyqueen, why that dog?" Verónica said while stretching out, she was tired from all the dancing.

"An old acquaintance, if you will. She's been broken so many times that by now she's strong enough to withstand the serum." Her fingers ran down her hair, with an indifferent look on her eyes. "I performed tons of experiments on her while i was part of The Coven, i hate to see a test subject going to waste. I know she'll be useful on the long run, i saw inside of her, she wishes to be free and her power will be as strong as her determination." She laughs for a moment. "Yes, i guess determination is the one thing she's strong at. An unbreakable will, that's all psychic really needs..."

"Our minds are out weapons, our limits are set by ourselves..."

"And we shall unite all minds into one, bringing paradise to earth."

 
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Reinforcements ~

Status
Condition:
Nominal
Wearing: Semi-formal outfit
Holding: Harper's Shotgun
Carrying: 2x pistol, 2x dagger
Location: Outside Sheriff's office, Hartfield, AZ
Time: 3:00 PM

---

Val'sharra watched helplessly as the two beats, bloodlust clear in their eyes, continued to struggle with one another. Damnit, I don't have a choice! Her finger silently tightened on the trigger, a silent apology going to Harper for the patterning she couldn't control for. But just as the tendons in her arm hit the threshold of force needed to trip the bolt, there was a strange crack, and the white wolf suddenly leaped for her mentor in a pounce that looked not completely controlled. Milliseconds later, she saw the syringe embed itself into the back of the aggressor wolf's head, its attached vial containing a strange glowing fluid which just as quickly drained into her system. Val, no fool she, hit the deck. She kept her eyes focused back in the direction of whence the dart had come from, desperately looking for who the shooter was, but at this distance there was no way to discern the few shimmering waves she saw from the general mirage caused by the desert sun. This whole situation is more sideways than a crab on a conveyor belt!

She crept up to the edge of the truck, peeking over to lay eyes on where Harper and the other now were, and watched as the previously combative white wolf was now quite literally dragging herself off towards the front of the truck in an effort to escape. As if by reflex, the shotgun in her arms snapped up to prepare herself to take the mercy shot, but her hand stayed, her mind mulling over what all had just happened. It was just as well, as a heavy THUD behind her made her turn suddenly, and had she been in a higher alert mindset herself, she might have reflexively pulled the trigger there as well. Harper had leapt onto the back of the truck, the heavy weight of her revealed form compressing the rear suspension slightly as she nodded to Val, then to the driver's seat, then stared directly into her eyes with a still fierce intensity. Val let out a bit of a huff. "Finally. Right, apologies in advance, desperate times call for desperate measures." Leaping out of the truck and throwing the shotgun across the passenger seat as she climbed in, she summoned all of her strength and ripped the dashboard panel beneath the steering wheel down, revealing the mess of wires that came from the ignition switch and various other electronic panels. "Thank goodness for KISS," she murmured quickly to herself as she recognized the configuration and drew one of her daggers, slicing open three of the wires and quickly shorting them together. The stocky diesel engine kicked to life, and Val kicked the parking brake pedal off, stomped the clutch, and floored the gas as she released, sending the rear wheels into a free spin as she whipped the truck around to point towards the diner. "Hang on teach! You're about to see me do about half of the things you told me not to!" And with that, the rear wheels finally caught traction, launching the pickup track out of the sheriff's office parking lot and hurtling it towards the diner at mach speed as Val deftly juggled the controls.

They came to a halt feet away from where Casey had gone down, the truck skidding to a halt sideways as Val herself leapt out, coming up in a roll with shotgun ready to roll. "What happened?!" she yelled to anybody who cared to answer.

---

Interaction: BoomersAndMash BoomersAndMash
Mention: Silver- Silver- , everybody at Ma's Diner
 
HAPER STEELBITE

Location: Back of the truck Time: 3:07PM

'What is she doing? Wait is she holding onto the panel of the dash board under the wheel. Val don't you dare rip it! Don't do it! No!'

The crack of the plastic snapped into Harpers ears and also into her heart as she watched helplessly when Val was, basically in her eyes destroying her truck. Oh this was going to be mentioned when she was back in her human form and her neck was healed up. Hearing the demon to warn her to hang on Harper laid down and held on as best she could. Her paws skitted against the tarp so this was going to prove hard with no traction. The next warning caused Harper to let out a loud what almost sounded like a yip from a Pomerania and not that of a wolf. As the truck peeled out of the parking lot Harper started to bark louder trying to yell at Val hoping that the demon could understand her to at least take it easy on the gas.

'Too many John Wick movies! Too many action movies! This kid has watched too many spy thrillers and all that stuff! And I swear if she hits that gas hard one more time I am going to bit her ankle when I get out of here!'

It was then that Harper realized everything seemed too quiet. When the truck finally stopped Harper jumped out of the back and followed Val at her side. If anyone was going to harm her they would have go through her and she wasn't afraid to get into a fight again.

'Werewolf. There's another werewolf here. Guard up, eyes ready. It might be another feral.' Her trot moved faster, moving in front of Val before sitting down waiting for anyone to answer Val's question. What happened here? Who was this on the ground? This smelled too much Athena territory, which would mean an agent might be on it's way or is here soon. That really brought Harper's guard up.

'Would they recognize me still? Are they still hunting me after I left?' Her fur bristled at the thought of being caught because of trying to figure out what is going on with the diner. It would be a stupid way to go. But she was jumping the gun, first find out who was here, then analyze the situation.

Interaction: PixelSymphony PixelSymphony
Mention: Everyone at the diner​
 
Hemlock Werwit
Outside of Ma's Diner


A lot was going on. At first Hemlock simply agreed to help the girl and little dragon get away and was planning on just bringing out her broom and flying away, only to be interrupted the appearance of some sort of construct which started fighting with the Athena agent. Casey was nowhere in sight and Hemlock went careening out of the way to find cover. She glanced towards the pair of people she'd said she'd help get out of the area and put her hands towards them. The snail shell in hand she shouted in her chanting and a pair of shields appeared in front of them, protecting them and Hemlock from any debris that would be flung their way.

Hemlock gritted her teeth and reached for the Salamander tear to send a fireball towards the creature fighting the agent only to see them win. It was oddly silent. Hemlock turned to the pair who'd shown up in a vehicle before getting rid of the shields and taking a breath of relief. Concentration spells were rarely fun. One of them asked a question. "I am not at all sure" she answered. "Is that it? Is everyone okay, or alive at the very least?" Hemlock asked after looking around and noticing there didn't seem to be anything attacking at the moment. She grabbed the salamander tear and kept it in a balled up fist just in case.
@EverybodyaroundMa'sDiner
 
Silver Blackwood
Mentions: BoomersAndMash BoomersAndMash PixelSymphony PixelSymphony

You picked a fight you can not win, pup!’ Had she honestly bitten off more than she could chew? In any case the older werewolf had sustained a deeper wound than her but then again, that had only been a visible wound. Who knew what her body was attempting to heal up now as she forced her body to move fluidly, her head spinning and the world around her feeling like it were steadily angling. Whatever she’d been shot with was settling into her too quietly—a viper crouched in the shadow of an innocent stone, ready to strike upon a single moment’s hesitance. She was lucky that her wolf had allowed her to even return to it’s comforting envelopment and she admitted to them both that the ordeal had shaken her up quite a bit. Feeling pain down to the marrow of your very bones as they too snapped and transfigured, sinews tearing, extending and compressing with every pitiful writhe, Silver scoffed at herself mentally for how disappointingly she’d done in her fight against the older werewolf. Perhaps if more time had passed between her being shot at, she would’ve had more time to properly clash with her opponent but for now she had to allow her wolf to take the reins as she left the area.

Wires zapped under pressure and the fur-bristling noise of someone destroying plastic molded onto a metal frame marked Val’s contribution to the fight. The Ford roared to life with the same urgency to match the demon’s and with a yip, the truck churned up settled dust and blurred into the distance. It was once they were out of earshot could Silver truly allow herself to shed her unfeeling mask. A long, drawn out snarl of pain left the white wolf’s maw, it’s pupils flickering a frigid blue as it’s paws dug into the earth, scoring lines. With a low hiss as she inhaled testily, Silver winced at the feedback her lungs gave her which signaled she needed to rest. The music in the town was indeed gone as was Ophelia’s presence so time was of the essence. She needed to rest.

Stepping carefully, she angled her ears to listen for any nearby presences before heading to the nearest cusp of trees that could provide some form of respite. An Emory oak marked the beginning of the desert fields beyond the town and so she decided to settle at the base of the trunk, sinking appreciatively into the waves of sandy colored long grass and allowing her mind to drift lightly.
 
Vivx'Xka, or Vic for short, was just entering the town of Hartfield, his oh so glorious destination, when he noticed a flash of light from somewhere off to his left. He'd been driving along in his modified van (He'd removed the seats. His spidery form didn't exactly fit in normal vehicles), with the window open when he'd started faintly hearing some music over the wind. Well, it seemed like the concert or whatever it had been must have blown a transformer or something because the music had stopped now.
He was about to go back to searching for a motel, when he heard the distinct sound of a gunshot coming from the same direction as the music and the flash.
His eyes narrowed, and he took the next left he saw.
He may be getting effectively exiled to this town, but he was still an Athena agent, and a good one at that. Well... aside from the exile, but that wasn't really his fault.

Vic shook his head, clearing his thoughts. If someone was shooting things, he needed to be there. The flash he'd seen earlier had taken on a somewhat more sinister light now that guns were involved.
With his van's engine roaring, he tore his way down the road, and quickly made it to the scene of.... something.

There was blood splatter all around and injured people everywhere. He saw humans (or... human-looking people. Best not to make assumptions) , a wolf (that must be a werewolf, given their size and visibly healing wound), what appeared to be some sort of demon, and even a small dragon. That was odd, dragons were pretty rare. Although he supposed he was one to talk, El'Vek'Ta were rare too. He'd never actually met another one outside of the tribe where he grew up.

He focused himself. Now was not the time to get distracted, although it seemed whatever had gone down was over. He pulled his van into a parking spot, eyeing what seemed to be a smoldering hole where it looked like a slice had been taken out of the diner these folk were all outside of. 'Ma's Diner' if the sign was to be believed.
He threw it in park, and turned off the engine, reached back to slide open the side door of the van. He worked his way out and stretched his two arms and six legs once he could fully extend himself. He'd been driving for hours.

He quickly checked himself to make sure his clothes were straight, and an auxiliary eye noticed the bag that had his special ammo lying in the van. He had his silver bullets in there. Probably should have grabbed them before he got out, what with the werewolf, but now he'd drawn attention from the group. Best not to be seen rummaging for ammo; he wasn't planning to start any trouble if he could help it.

"Nice to me you folks, I'm Vivx'Xka, but you can call me Vic," his voice hummed, seeming to come from the area of his head, but his face just looked like a flat mask of chitin. Only his eyes were visible, two larger eyes facing the front, and 6 smaller ones ringing his bare head.

He stood tensed and ready to move if he needed to, but tried his best not to show it. He reached a gloved hand into his jacket pocket, removing his badge and presenting it to the motley crowd in front of him. His name and picture, badge number, and the Athena logo were emblazoned on the front. He only now noticed that the Demon appeared to be wielding a shotgun. Well, too late to rethink this now.
"Agent Vic, that is. Would one of you kindly explain what's going on here?"

Mention: Everyone at the diner
 
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Casey recovered and kept the hand-cannon at the ready, expecting a renewed attack. When none came, he check the mag -three rounds- and begrudgingly holstered the weapon. He rubbed his head where he had been shot and tried to make sense of the attack. It didn't make sense. He could only grasp at the thinnest of straws. A vampire attack in broad daylight with heavy usage of illusion magic. It didn't seem random. Were he and the Athenian the target or the distraction? "The Athenian!"

He spun on his heel to look behind him, where the agent was engaged with a golem. Although, it seemed, the golem was an artificial construct as well, having fallen to ash after the vampire made her escape. He walked over the agent and saw the blood stains on her hand and side. He produced a medkit from his pack and held it out to her. He was about to ask her about the attack when another vehicle pulled up to the lot. An Arachnid flashed a badge and spoke the Athenian motto: "What's going on here?"

"Fucking typical Athenian." He thought. "Then again..."

He pushed his goggles up onto his forehead and pulled the black balaclava down so it sat around his neck. "You tell me Athenian." he said with indignation.

Silver- Silver- Zat Zat Neo Alice Neo Alice
 
Vic looked over at the human that turned to glare at him, having passed off what looked like a medkit to a woman that was covered in blood and ash. The man seemed equipped for a battle, one which very well might have occurred, given the state of everyone.
"You tell me Athenian," the man said with a tone suggesting he wasn't pleased.
Vic took the reception with poise. He couldn't blame the man for being a little cranky. He'd obviously had a rough time of whatever had just happened. Best not to take it personally. The question was a bit odd though. Why would he know what was going on?
Still, the man was armed, so he kept himself ready to move if the need arose, a hand resting casually by his holster. He kept a side-eye on the demon with the shotgun specifically.

"I'm afraid you'd know much better than me. Just rode into town, heard a gunshot, and pulled up to find all of you folks here," he explained, gesturing to the group.
"Don't want any trouble, just hoping to help. Maybe calm down a situation where folks are a bit tense. Just wondering what happened." He paused. "And perhaps the lady there could lower her shotgun, if you wouldn't mind. It's making me a mite nervous," he said with a nod toward the demon girl.

He was honestly a little confused. He wasn't sure who all had been fighting who, which was strange. Normally you could tell at a glance by people's body language, especially in a fight that had gone as far as this one had.
Maybe the other party had fled before he got here?
He supposed it was pointless to speculate more before he got a story out of these people.

Mentions: Pacificus Pacificus Silver- Silver- PixelSymphony PixelSymphony
 
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Special Agent Gordon Greenwood
Time: 10:03 AM EST
Location: Miami International Airport
This is going to be the best birthday ever,” Jordyn Faulkner said, stepping past a group of tourists de-boarding. He happened to be about six-foot-five with long, thick, and pin-straight jet-black hair that fell past his waist. Jordyn’s skin was the color of creamed coffee, and his eyes were dark as night. There was no mistaking this man’s heritage. His family lived in the United States long-long before it was ever called such.

Gordon Greenwood followed closely behind the Native-American boy with the brilliant smile.

Miami international airport was packed with people in tropical-print shirts and jean shorts. The throng pressed in from all sides, making Gordie’s freckled-skin itch. Crowds weren’t necessarily detrimental to the special agent’s mental health, but they weren’t his favorite thing to be stuck in either. He ran his trembling, lithe fingers through chestnut-brown hair and took a few deep, steadying breaths.

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“Mmm,” he agreed quietly.

“I can’t believe you splurged for Italy,” Jordyn went on. “It must have cost an arm and a leg!”

Gordie smirked at the older man, “You’re thirty. Seemed appropriate to do something big.”

“Oh-ho,” Jordyn laughed. He spun to face the special agent investigator with the Athena Program, bending down just a little to whisper in his ear, breath tickling the outer shell. “I am gonna do something big for you after we board that plane.”

Gordon sputtered, heat rising rapidly up his neck and over his cheeks. Jordyn smiled a wide, toothsome grin and turned away to press onward. It took everything in Gordie’s power to get his wobbly knees to move again. They stopped next to a postcard stand by a gift shop and waited for Gordon to catch his breath.

The two met five years ago in a bar in New Hampshire during Gordon’s training. It had been the younger man’s twenty-first birthday, and the two of them hit it off right away. They’d been together ever since, though not in a true romantic sense. They were friends-mostly-and that sat just fine with Gordon.

Jordyn rifled through the display of cards, subtly giving Gordon some much-needed time to collect himself. The postcards were typical tourist stuff. Bright sunsets sinking low past an ocean horizon with phrases like ‘Wish you were here!’ and ‘We’re in Miami!’ printed at the top in bold letters.

Gordon opened his mouth to speak, but his cellphone went off. Three high-pitched beeps followed by two more in a repetitive pattern. Jordyn stopped browsing and frowned down at Gordon’s front pocket. He knew what the ringing meant. The special agent explicitly set that tone for work.

“I told you to turn it off before we left the apartment, Gordie,” Jordyn chided.

The younger man reached to pull out the ‘it’ in question and glanced at the number on the screen. “I’ve got to take this,” he said.

It took ten steps to put enough distance between them so Gordon could answer the phone, “Special Agent Greenwood. The line is red.”

“I suggest you find a more secure location then, Agent Greenwood.”

Gordon instantly recognized the short-clipped feminine voice on the other end of the phone. “Director Shellenberger,” the special agent greeted. “I’m sorry, but no-can-do. I’m standing in the middle of Miami International.”

Then, as an afterthought, Gordon quickly added, “I’m on my way to Italy. My vacation started yesterday.”

“You’re not on your way yet, Greenwood,” she replied. “Vacation’s canceled. You’re getting on a plane to Phoenix.”

“Phoenix,” Gordon repeated, his voice coming out as flat and lifeless as a day-old pancake.

The stern, detached voice of Director Shellenberger responded, “We have two patrol agents in the area, but one missed their check-in three days ago. That’s Special Agent Giroux. Never met her personally, but the special agent in charge out of Phoenix said that it’s doubtful she would disappear. I’ll be emailing you her picture and information—keep an eye out.

“You’re other contact is arachnid. Special Agent Vic. He’s had a recent transfer to the area, and it wasn’t strictly voluntary. Best not to bring it up with him. You're to land in Phoenix, check-in with the special agent in-charge for accommodations out there, and then high-tail it Hartfield, Arizona. I'll have more information for you when you land.”

If people used the expression ‘bite your tongue’ literally, instead of just figuratively, Gordon would be cleaving his in half.

“Director,” Gordon began, spurn and biting anger infused in every syllable, “We’re boarding in less than an hour, and I’m-”

“Save it, Greenwood,” the director snapped. “The seer division has caught on to an uptick of preternatural presence at a small town in BFE, and you’re going. They can’t get a lock on who’s there, and I can’t imagine this is just a coincidence. So I need you to tough it out, tell your boyfriend that you’re protecting the goddamned country, and get out to the middle of a god-forsaken desert hell-hole.”

Gordon stayed silent for a while. The quiet roar of the crowd around him seemed suddenly soothing to his frayed nerves. After a minute, the director spoke again—gentler this time.

“Gordie,” she sighed, “I really am sorry about this. We’re doing a lot of in-house clean-up after the incident. You’re one of the few people I can still trust to do the right thing. To do good!

She emphasized the word ‘good’ as if it were some kind of lifeline tossed to a sailor gone overboard. People were passing very near to him, and the mage snapped his fingers to erect a silencing bubble around himself. One moment an overwhelming murmur of voices bore down on him, then a pop of static, and finally, nothing.

“Yeah,” Gordie replied, “I know. I get it.”

Director Caroline Shellenberger heaved another deep sigh, “Thank you, Gordie. Your ticket is available at the desk for Delta Airlines. The flight leaves at two-thirty your time. Your checked luggage is already being moved off the plane.”

“Understood.”

“We splurged for first-class to make up for the last-minute cancellation... and Gordie,” the director began but hesitated. She almost sounded unsure of what she had been about to say. Gordon never once knew the director to flounder like this.

“Ma’am,” he pressed, inflecting his voice upward in encouragement.

“Tell Jordyn happy birthday,” she said finally. “We’ll make it up to him.”

“It was Venice, Caroline. I doubt the AP has the budget to make it up to him,” Gordon huffed.

The director laughed, “You’d be surprised.”

A trilling, downtempo beep told Gordon that the call ended.

The silencing charm evaporated, and all those voices came washing over him again. Sometimes crowds were an irritating buzz that forced Gordon to use a silencing ward. Other times, like this one, they were very nearly comforting. The steely-eyed man turned back to the gift shop and found that Jordyn just finished up a call of his own.

“Hey,” Gordon began, “I have-”

Jordyn raised a hand to silence him, “Yeah-yeah, I know. You have to go save the world again.”

Gordon didn’t say anything but took a moment to simply stare up into those dark eyes. Jordyn wore an admiring grin on his face that didn’t quite meet his eyes. It looked like he needed to say something. Gordon wished that he would. Shout, scream; it didn’t matter to Gordon at this point. He deserved whatever his best friend could throw at him.

Instead, Jordyn shrugged and said, “Give me your ticket. I called Sarah and told her that if she could get her fat-ass down here in half an hour, she could come see Italy with me.”

Gordon actually laughed. Jordyn always knew just what to say to make him feel better, even if he didn’t deserve it. Even if he didn’t deserve him. A lock of hair, black and shining under the fluorescents, fell into Jordyn’s face, and Gordon reached up reflexively to tuck it behind his ear. If felt like all Jordyn ever did was make concessions for the special agent standing in front of him.

“See you around, Gordie,” Jordyn said, “Sorry we didn’t get to join the mile-high club this time.”

“Yeah,” Gordon agreed, “Me too.”


Four hours later, and special agent Gordie Greenwood boarded the plane. Not the one going to Italy with his best friend, but one bound for the dumpster fire that was Phoenix, Arizona. At least the seats were excellent, and an in-flight three-course meal was set to be served. A steward with a flirty attitude brought by some champagne, and when Gordon made the joke of leaving the entire bottle, the uniformed man did.

Maybe, Gordon thought, taking a small sip, I'll get to join that club after all.


(mentions: Zat Zat & Silver- Silver- )
 
Farron Giroux
Tags: Pacificus Pacificus Zat Zat PixelSymphony PixelSymphony BoomersAndMash BoomersAndMash | Mentions: Neo Alice Neo Alice

The air around them swirled with an unseeable disturbance, the wind carrying an atmospheric shift as the Battle Seraph she’d just torn up began crumbling into ash right before Farron’s very eyes. She didn’t look up when tires screeched loudly in her ears, her heartbeat thudding all too loudly as she watched the ash whisk away from her hands and feet, leaving smudges in their wake. Just what did Galadriel and that vampire intend on doing with Casey? A demon had now appeared close by with a shotgun positioned far to easily atop her narrow shoulder to be considered an amateur though her mouth yelled in questioning. The wolf that stood wedged between her and the rest of them held a gaze that bristled with distrust and anger. In fact, Farron could almost make out its inaudible words as it stood rigid and sized them all up.

“Everyone appears to be okay,” Farron answered to both Hemlock and Val, staring at the wolf in silent wonder. “The only issue now is what they shot your human friend with.” Tearing her eyes away, she looked to Casey now whom came over and handed her a medical kit. She scoffed quietly as a small smile graced her lips, grateful for the pack but also amused that he hadn’t yet noticed that she was not human. Her hands were stained crimson, blood crusted to her pulverized gloves and sticking uncomfortably to her side but the wounds were already beginning to close on her own. The most she needed now was a cold shower.
Another vehicle sauntered up to the group, undeniably late to the fight as Farron assessed the condition of the area. This part of town was deserted—not even curious eyes peered from the shadows as the townspeople had scattered, especially after part of the diner was cleanly eaten away by some force. Exposed wires, concrete slab and drywall cracked quietly in the hot sun, another Athenian strolling in to scour the damage.
“Agent Vic, I’m Agent.. Giroux.” The words rolled off her tongue easily but it sounded as if she didn’t introduce herself often. “The Hive was here only moments ago and as you can see from the wreckage, they’ve recently left, but not without having shot something into their target.” She murmured quietly, taking a moment to look at the Athenian now and feeling a bit of fear lap at her spine. She’d never seen such a grotesque supernatural before, not even during her training in Athena. “Using context clues and how they seemed to focus solely on him, I would say that he’s the target”, she nodded her head towards Casey but immediately cut with firm words.

“I don’t believe he’s a threat to anyone unless one were to make themselves his opponent. He appears to be a Hunter, abiding by the bounty protocols, so there’s no need to prosecute him. I think we will need help seeing what’s been administered to him though. It may prove lethal.” Farron glided over to Casey now, handing him back his medic pack and nodding appreciatively before finally acknowledging the demon and other werewolf, keeping a good distance so as to not startle either of them. “No one is after you two, I’m an Athenian agent but I do not have any qualms with Hunters.”
 
HARPER STEELBITE

Location: Ma's Diner rubble Time: 3:10PM

Seeing the two agents near each other made Harper very uneasy. Whatever was going on was big and she caught the words "Hive" and that the human had been shot by something. It seemed like it was the same something that the shot the werewolf that was Harper was fighting earlier. The arachnid was a strange supernatural that Harper had never seen before and was a tad startled by it, but the werewolf, the one that spoke to them she kept her guard up. Her eyes looked over to Val seeing how her new partner would react to Athena poking their nose around in areas when something big as this happens.

'Just like how they normally are. Just like how she likes to run them. Have them look like heroes. Typical. We need to get out of here quickly. The longer we stay the higher of a risk we pose of being taken in for "questioning." And I'm not in the mood to return back to base after being away for so long.'

Slowly Harper walked in front of Val and sat in front of her, tucking her tail to her side and staring straight into Farron's eyes. Warning her not to come closer to them.

'Stay where you are, agent. Do not come closer. The demon is my charge. Do not take us in for questioning.' Harper gave a low rumble growl that could shake the ground. Her body was still tense and fur was bristled in the back. Never once relaxing around the agents. Turning back into a human was not an option now. Harper's beast was restless from the fight before and having this headache of a issue now with Athena was tipping her over the edge. Her calm demeaner was gone and Val was going to see a new side of her partner.

Interaction: Silver- Silver- PixelSymphony PixelSymphony
Mention: Zat Zat
 
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Special Agent Gordon Greenwood
Time: 4:45 PM MST
Location: Denver International Airport
S
pecial Agent Gordon Greenwood promised himself, by no means, to ever ride coach again. First-class felt like wandering the plains of Kansas for your entire life and suddenly finding New York City in the middle of a cow field. Not for everyone, obviously. Gordon realized that certain people with sociopathic tendencies enjoyed living in the country. He did not. There never seemed to be enough to do in ‘quaint’ places.

The agency actually did splurge for his ticket, but not quite as much as Gordon hoped. A layover, shoved into the middle of his flight, left him stranded for thirteen hours at Denver International. Well, not completely stranded. The assistant director of the Denver Athena Project branch waited for him at the gate. He gave Gordie a key to an apartment within a mile’s distance of the airport itself.

“You’re not getting much sleep there, though,” the AD joked. He lifted a hand, swooping it in front of Gordon’s face and making noises that he plainly thought were comparable to that of a seven-forty-seven. He seemed to be implying that airplanes flew low over the building, but Gordon simply thought the man an idiot and said nothing.

Twelve hours later, Gordon stumbled blear-eyed and ill-tempered onto his next plane. The lack of coffee in the airport apartment caused quite a few complications to his morning routine. Contrary to the assistant director’s allegations of a rough night ahead, Gordon slept like the dead.

The sound of cars honking, the buzz of the fluorescent light at the parking lot Waffle House, and yes, even the low flying planes lulled him into a deep and dreamless sleep. Gordon hated nights like that. He always awoke feeling over-rested, something his body naturally rebelled against after years of training it for the opposite. He needed a cup of hot coffee desperately, and that’s precisely what he told the stewardess when she arrived.

“Black and sweet,” he grumbled.

The stewardess, a woman of color, arched a slender eyebrow at him. Her smile fell away, replaced by something akin to unappreciative stoniness.

“Excuse me?”

“Coffee,” Gordon amended, “Please.”
jQD8FJam.png
She smirked, slowly shaking her head, but returned with Gordon’s much-needed life force.

“Rough night,” she asked.

“I wish,” Gordon replied, delicately sipping the steaming liquid. He could taste notes of hazelnut and a warm earthy softness on his palate. “This stuff different from what they serve in coach?”

The stewardess, whose nametag read Dianna, gave Gordon a sly smile, “Of course.”

Special Agent Gordon Greenwood
Time: 12:01 PM MST
Location: Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport
The rest of the flight passed uneventfully, and they landed on time at Phoenix Sky Harbor. Special Agent In-Charge Chace Collins stood by the baggage claim, presumably waiting for Gordie. He wore a crisp suit and wore it well. He stood about six-foot-three, broad-shouldered, and with a cane supporting his left side. His eyes stood out the most about him. A bright honeyed-yellow that caught the light in a non-human way.

Gordon reached up and subtly rubbed his right eye with the heel of his hand, casting a revealing charm. A golden aura radiated off of the SAIC. It burned Gordie’s eye after just a few seconds, and he lowered the spell by pretending to scratch at his eye again.

A werewolf, and a high-tier one at that, Gordon thought.

“Agent Greenwood,” SAIC Collins greeted politely. He seemed to be in his late forties, gray springing up around the temples of his dark, curly hair. “Glad to meet you. Director Shellenberger speaks very highly of you.”

Gordon reached forward and took the man’s proffered hand, “Always shocks me to hear people say that, sir.”

Collins laughed, bright white teeth dazzling in contrast to his onyx skin. Gordon couldn’t help but think about what he would look like out of that suit. For an older man, he rested easily on the eyes. Strong jawline, rounded cheeks, and a wide up-turned nose made the special agent a little hot under the collar.

Pleasantries dispensed with, Chace Collins reached into his well-tailored blazer and removed a large manila envelope. He passed the heavy dossier over to Gordon with a nod. It jingled softly with the motion.

“Inside, you’ll find keys to an agency-owned apartment on Third Avenue in Hartfield,” SPAIC Collins began. “The director suggested that you’d be searching for an agent of mine during your investigation. Her name is Farron Giroux. She’s one of my best and brightest. I’ve included her last known location, details on her most recent mission, and a copy of her photo ID. Even a status update would go a long way to easing my mind.”

Gordon nodded, “Yes, sir. Is there anything you can tell me about Special Agent Vic?”

“Not much,” the special agent in-charge replied with a shake of his head. “He’s almost brand-new here, and headquarters sent a directive with his transfer to put him in outer-field patrol immediately. Haven’t gotten a chance to meet him yet. He’s earned nine civilian commendations under his belt since he’s been here. Always a pleasant surprise when civvies call in to compliment instead of complain.

“Even more shocking is that people normally don’t take too kindly to Spider-folk. Before the gate burst, most regs were terrified of the little ones. Vic’s not little. Still, he’s pulled in more commendations than most agents make in a lifetime. Not sure why his home branch booted him out; files are sealed, but I know I’m not letting him go anytime soon.”

Interesting, Gordon thought. Not really helpful, but still.

“Did the AP disburse a car, or am I renting,” Gordon asked.

SAIC Collins smiled, “Keys are in the folder. Good luck, Agent Greenwood.”

Gordie watched Collins go. To be honest, he looked about twenty years older than Gordie. Some people aged like fine wine, and others like un-refrigerated milk.

Special Agent In-Charge Chace Collins, well, he was definitely the former. The slacks he wore, Gordon noticed appreciatively, were also tailored. A rare find nowadays in a world of mass production.

The 1986 Ford Crown Victoria LTD reminded Gordie of a hearse at first glance—except that it was a cream-white. No, Gordon determined, running a finger across the driver’s door, it was pearl-white with a thin layer of Arizona dust as its coating. How anyone lived in this state was beyond him. Even the heat oppressed him, and Gordon liked the heat. It topped his list of reasons for moving to Florida. This dry heat, however, blistered over his skin like an enraged demon.
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The interior of the vehicle sported over-stuffed bench seats in powder-blue and a faux wood panel dash. The windows and seats came powered, and the A/C controls showcased a flat, sleek pushbutton display. Everything installed boasted a digital read-out, and Gordie imagined that this car was most likely the height of luxury and technology at the time of purchase. Now it felt antiquated.

Special Agent Gordon Greenwood
Time: 3:11 PM MST
Location: Hartfield, Arizona - Ruins of Ma's Diner
The drive? Uneventful. The car? A boat on wheels. The scenery? What scenery?

As a matter of fact, the whole three-hour trip away from civilization was really starting to piss him off. He longed for the hotel room in the Venetian plaza, the smell of good food drifting through the open balcony doors, and quiet, tender moments watching Jordyn’s russet skin growing darker in the sun. Where he was going, he’d be lucky to get a tactlessly named diner to munch in.
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Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me, Gordon thought as he turned into town, and the imagined diner became a stark reality.

A group meandered in the parking lot by the crumbling structure. Special Agent Gordon Greenwood, a class five mage, a top-ranked investigator in the Athena Project, and an intellect enthusiast, applied every resource in his critical thinking to determine that one of the people loitering around was Special Agent Vic.

Gordon’s thought process went like this, How many other giant arachnids could be wandering around in this podunk?

Some sort of calamitous event just occurred here--and recently too.

Gordie slowed the car as he approached Ma’s Diner. He wanted to get settled in before dealing with whatever shit-show went down, but duty demanded. If only he could squeeze in a shower and a cup of coffee. It would be fair since missing his vacation and traveling almost nonstop to get here.

“Federal agent,” Gordon announced, climbing out of the car. He parked the hulking beast on the curb.

“Special Agent Vic,” Gordon acknowledged with a curt nod, “I’m Special Agent Investigator Gordon Greenwood. Director Shellenberger sent me here to look over the increase to the preternatural presence here. Status report?”

Gordie felt addressing an agent by their given moniker strange, but he knew the full names of Spider-folk were impossible to pronounce and wasn’t even sure they had surnames. Perhaps, if Gordon stayed long enough, he might find out. The young agent surveyed the scene around him, taking in all of the damage done and the people there.

Special Agent Greenwood placed the heel of his hand over his right eye and pressed gently. A reveal charm wrapped itself around the gelatinous sphere, pulsing magic forward into the ocular cavity, and when he drew away, their inner auras spilled forth. Gordie placed a cigarette between his lips, igniting it with the tip of his finger. Smoke curled up into the air as he sorted through the shimmering colors around him.
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Athenian classification is a rating system used by agents to determine threat level and experience. Most agents spent hours studying and memorizing detailed reports before going into the field. Gordon didn’t have to bother. His reveal charm not only established the type of creature before him by color, but the strength, experience, and threat factor of the being as well. Class one meant the preter posed a minimal threat and ranked lowest. On the other hand, Class five represented that the preter should be considered lethal--avoid confrontation without appropriate back-up at all costs.

The system, like all others, bore its own flaws. For example, a preternatural’s rating might go up depending on what artifacts or weapons they were carrying. It might go down if they were in a tranquil mood. Nothing was inevitable, but it established a baseline for reviewal.

Acid green drifted about his vision, the nearest source of aura. Spider-folk, class four, Gordon categorized before moving on.

Witch, class three, demon, class three-

“You can lower your weapon now, miss. There’s not going to be any more fighting going on for now,” Gordon said to the horned, white-haired woman.

Human, class two, Gordon sighed. Another problem with the classification system. It worked decently for preters, but humans consistently ranked deceptively low. In the agent’s experience, regs were the most dangerous of all.

Werewolf, class four, Gordon recognized this one from the copied photo-identification tucked inside the front pocket of his worn, tanned leather jacket.

“Special Agent Giroux,” Gordie greeted, “You missed your check-in. SAIC Collins is worried about you.”

Half-dryad, class two, Again, Gordie found this doubtful. Because of their natural equanimity, almost all dryads were challenging to read.

Werewolf, class five-

Gordon froze. A sense of familiarity bombarded him. He knew this lycanthrope from somewhere, but he couldn’t place her. Was it possible they worked together in the past? Most assuredly not. An underlying current of stress and panic currently swept through her aura.

She could be a fugitive, Gordon thought, Maybe the instigator of this entire affair? The special agent gave no credence to the latter part of that thought. The general mood relaxed more and more with each passing moment. Gordie didn’t think that would be possible if the antagonist was still at the scene. He didn’t completely dismiss the idea of a runaway fugitive, though. Perhaps she was in the database.

Gordon reached into his pocket, removed his cell, and snapped a picture of the wolf’s visage. A few swipes and the image uploaded to the Athena Project mainframe. Technology possessed its own merits. He’d receive a ping in a few hours once the results came back. He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“Miss,” Gordon began in an assuring voice, “You can shift back.”

Just in case his hunch panned out about being a fugitive, Gordon added, “You’re granted the AP’s official amnesty during ongoing investigations as laid out in section nineteen, subsection three-A of the Preternatural rights and Resources Doctrine.”

With that said, Gordie removed the charm on his eye and turned to face Special agent Vic, “Still waiting on that status report, agent.”


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Casey crossed his arms and stood nearby as two more agents arrived. There was also a demon and another, much angrier, werewolf. He didn't pay them much mind. He didn't know their story, but they were at the diner previously. Definitely hunters. He felt no reason to be concerned. The agents, however, would no doubt need his account of the incident. The spider-folk was interesting. He had never seen one of them before. But the special investigator was a real oddity. Usually, under these circumstances, Casey would expect a helicopter full of operators to come fast-roping in. A single special investigator meant this was something Athena wanted done quietly, with no mistakes. It spoke to the seriousness of the issue. Whomever had attacked them and shot him had to be a real threat. Of course, he had seen their power first-hand. He had dismissed it initially as vampiric posturing, something he had dealt with a thousand times before. Once you pull back the curtain, a vampire is very easy kill. That one demonstrated a level of power he had never seen before. The fucking parasite had also shot him in the head. He wanted revenge for that. It made his blood boil. But now he felt under-gunned. In his own opinion, the worst feeling imaginable. The rest of his gear was in back in Durango. A long ways from here. He'd have to get it, somehow.

In the meantime, he lit up a cigarette and made it clear he didn't intend to go anywhere. This was the part where the paper notepads came out and the insufferable wheels of bureaucracy began to turn. He studied the newly arrived agents. The spider-folk was, again, interesting. But he seemed to be of the same caliber as the werewolf. Typical agents. The kind he had ran circles around before. The investigator was a mystery, however. He appeared human. Definitely not cold-blooded. Definitely a magic user. A strong one at that. Casey exhaled smoke and awaited the questioning.

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Vivx'Xka - Vic - Outside Ma's Slightly Demolished Diner

Vic relaxed a bit as the blood-covered woman introduced herself as Agent Giroux and started to explain the situation. He was relieved to have some backup that actually knew what was going on. He had to admit, he wasn't expecting to find another agent here. Why would Athena bother stationing two agents in a small town like this? Central also hadn't bothered to inform him there would be another agent here, which was annoying. Not unexpected, but still.

Unfortunately, his relief was short-lived. Vic leaned back a bit, nodding as the other agent filled in the details. She seemed a little uneasy with him, but that was hardly new. He'd have tried to make a joke or something to try and make her more comfortable, but this hardly seemed the time. He noted her wounds closing as she talked (A regenerator of some kind? Maybe she was a werewolf too), and she finished up her story as she handed the medkit back to the apparent target of this attack.
The Hive, huh? Maybe he'd heard an agent mention it once? He certainly didn't know much about it. It wasn't a good sign that they could apparently fight toe to toe with a gaggle of hunters and a full-fledged agent, then slip away

Vic turned and started rummaging in one of the large pockets sewn to the big robe fitted to his lower half. As Agent Giroux turned to speak to the others, he noticed the werewolf taking the opportunity to growl at them menacingly.
Great, demon with a shotgun and now an angry werewolf. He'd have really liked to focus on that, but if this man had been injected with something that might kill him, that was more urgent.

"Sir," Vic buzzed, with a quick nod to the grumpy black-haired hunter, who'd just lit up a cigarette, "someone injected you with something?"
Vic eyed the big mark on his forehead, but didn't want to make any assumptions.
"Get the site clear. I've got an extraction kit, but it needs to be on bare skin."
He pulled out the aforementioned kit he finished speaking, moving over to the man, making a conscious effort to keep his movements more human-like. Vic tended to slip back into the more jerky and twitchy movements natural to his kind when he was tense, but the last thing Vic needed was for the stressed human to think he was attacking him or something.

He started to assemble the hit as he approached. It was a good one, electric-powered, and he always kept it and his anti-venom on hand. Vic would never forgive himself if he somehow accidentally bit somebody and they died because he wasn't prepared. It was meant for venom, but would hopefully work for other kinds of injections as well.

Vic was just handing it to the hunter when another car pulled up, disgorging a brown-haired man that wouldn't look out of place on a magazine cover.
The man introduced himself as Special Agent Investigator Gordon Greenwood, referred to him by name, and started talking like he owned the place. Vic might have found it more aggravating if he hadn't done the same thing like 30 seconds ago.
Gordon Greenwood. Vic had heard that name before. Some sort of magic savant. Up and coming star in Athena.
'Why in the hells is he out here?' he thought.
One extra agent in the middle of nowhere was odd, but he could accept it. A Special Investigator too, sent by Director Shellenberger? Yeah right. Something was going on, and nobody had seen fit to tell him what.
He'd be giving Kyle an earful next check-in.

Vic waited for the man to finish doling out orders, and dutifully informed him about everything he knew, which was pretty much exactly what Agent Giroux had told him, and turned back to the hunter to show him how to use the kit.

Well. Seems like his exile wasn't quite what it seemed.

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Hemlock Werwit
Ruins of Ma's Diner


After it seemed that everything was actually calm she seemed to not really pay much mind to anyone. With a clear conscious the witch was more taken by rifling through one of her bags. She slightly raised an eye to look around as more people showed up, apparently both of them being associated with Athena. Hemlock had nothing against Athena, she didn't mess much with them to be quite frank. With all of this nonsense done Hemlock was preparing to head back home. With no bounty to be had or magical cactus experiments Hemlock had nothing more to accomplish in this town.

She was planning on leaving after the ruckus, with no bounty or magical experiments to do she didn't have much reason to be here, of course running for the hills the moment a bunch of officers of the law appeared wouldn't look good, and normally Hemlock wouldn't care that much but she wasn't in any particular hurry in the first place. Out of her bag she took out a tiny lawn chair with a rubber band on it. She pulled off the band and put in on the lot, it grew into an actual chair. Hemlock took a seat and pulled out a book, one for reading not for spells and began to nonchalantly flip through it. Her massive hat providing a bit of shade for her eyes while she sat back relaxed and waited for a little bit.
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