Coin
world's okayest lobotomite
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Fantasy Vexpara
- Thread starter Coin
- Start date
Coin
world's okayest lobotomite
CHAPTER 1
Were it you instead.
Were it you instead.
For the last month, quiet and calm had become the norm at Vexpara. The last eventful case had been an attempted bank heist, and subsequent pursuit involving one man and two lesser demon accomplices. Though the NYPD and Vexpara had them encircled, the robbers still put up a fight. For a few moments of limelight on live television, it was worth it, but the culprits were eventually subdued and arrested by the exorcists and law enforcement. Since the heist, only minor cases of unregulated infernal magic and rogue demon activity were reported to the guild. Perhaps it was a good thing for the local citizenry, but lack of cases was beginning to show on some hunters with itchy trigger fingers.
That was, until, the residency of an entire apartment building disappeared.
Willow Rest South was an apartment of little importance in a tolerable corner of Brooklyn, with just over 150 registered residents across its three stories. Of its 150 residents, it was believed that roughly 80 went missing in the blink of an eye, with more missing persons reports filing in by the hour. At approximately 9:12 P.M. local time, a blinding aura of viridescent light engulfed the apartment building for no more than five seconds, according to police witness reports. Naturally, NYPD responded and cordoned off the entire complex to begin their investigation. The first two officers to step foot into the apartment ceased contact with dispatch sometime after 9:22 P.M. and have since been declared missing as well. A spike in infernal magic detection aboard the police cruiser's sensor prompted reinforcing officers to evacuate the apartment complex, form a barricade around Willow Rest South, and contact the exorcist guild -- Vexpara.
Given the scale and uncertainty of the crisis at hand, an all-call was issued for all Vexpara guildmates available to respond immediately. The guildmaster herself, Kendra Lattimore, was among the first to arrive on a personal request from NYPD Commissioner Richard Paris. Her expertise was well appreciated by the force. The rest of her guild were beginning to trickle in from the headquarters in guild-marked black SUVs, or by their own personal transportation were they not present at the headquarters during the alert. A safe distance away from the police barricade, a large operations tent had been set up in the middle of the cleared street as a general meeting point, and to provide momentary shelter from the summer thunderstorm that had rolled into the night.
Between the occasional flash of thunder and the glare of police sirens and headlights, even the guildmaster was more than visible despite her black attire against the night. That, and she appeared very out of place among the police officers. When the first of the guild's SUVs arrived at the makeshift headquarters, Kendra turned and waved her disembarking guildmates down and gestured for them to join her under the canopy away from the sheets of rain.
"Grab your gear and gather around, we're working against the clock here, kids!" She called out, then turned her attention back to the officer briefing her.
Despite the gravity of the situation, there was a peculiar air of excitement drifting among the arriving hunters and exorcists. Monotony had at last been broken, replaced by the rush of uncertainty and potential danger.
The feeling, certainly, was not mutual among the NYPD.
WaywardJester
New Member
There's a thin line between vigilance and complacency. Walking it during what felt like the height of inactivity at Vexpara is nothing short of exhausting. To Holden it was the equivalent to listening to this cab driver confess his sins in hopes of salvation while pointlessly cursing at God for the inconvenience of traffic. But at least there was a call. Something happened that was big enough to bring the entire guild and already it served as a great distraction from the lack of cases this month. Part of Holden felt the recent lull as a blessing. The less cases meant the less they were needed. It meant the less innocents were being hurt. But then the rest of him was itching to bring that peace and calm with his guildmates. There was a difference in an anxious peace and a peace created by the extermination of those who would do the world harm.
"Yo! Buddy! I said we're here!" The driver's rough voice brought Holden out of his thoughts. "So c'mon pal, whatcha think? Am I good wit' da man upstairs?" His accent was thick, the charm of most New Yorkers. Holden figure the man to have been born and raised here. Holden sighed internally and glanced at his driver plaque mounted behind the seat. "Ronald Hopsin" it read. Holden said a quick silent prayer for the man then gave him a level gaze. "That's the thing Ron, you were always good with Him. You just have to accept Him." His tone was plain and voice smooth. Holden was no charmer by any stretch but the look on the Rons' face made it like Holden told him sacrifice a sheep shirtless at a bonfire in the middle of Timesquare. "No offense padre and 'scuse my French but...da fuck you mean by that?" This time Holden couldn't help but sigh audibly. He then smiled and handed Ron a twenty. "Only that you keep the change Ron."
Holden stepped out near a marked SUV that was unloading some of the others. He waved to them and made his way over with the group to Kendra, nodding at her greeting. Subconsciously his hand was already checking the thigh holster that held his cross. Its smooth truesilver tips were a comfort. Lifting his head to the cloudy night right as lightning illuminated the clouds above him, he spoke a silent prayer for the officers, the guild and for whatever reason they were all summoned here for. Holden smoothed out his robes and adjusted his glasses, glancing up at the briefing officer.
"Yo! Buddy! I said we're here!" The driver's rough voice brought Holden out of his thoughts. "So c'mon pal, whatcha think? Am I good wit' da man upstairs?" His accent was thick, the charm of most New Yorkers. Holden figure the man to have been born and raised here. Holden sighed internally and glanced at his driver plaque mounted behind the seat. "Ronald Hopsin" it read. Holden said a quick silent prayer for the man then gave him a level gaze. "That's the thing Ron, you were always good with Him. You just have to accept Him." His tone was plain and voice smooth. Holden was no charmer by any stretch but the look on the Rons' face made it like Holden told him sacrifice a sheep shirtless at a bonfire in the middle of Timesquare. "No offense padre and 'scuse my French but...da fuck you mean by that?" This time Holden couldn't help but sigh audibly. He then smiled and handed Ron a twenty. "Only that you keep the change Ron."
Holden stepped out near a marked SUV that was unloading some of the others. He waved to them and made his way over with the group to Kendra, nodding at her greeting. Subconsciously his hand was already checking the thigh holster that held his cross. Its smooth truesilver tips were a comfort. Lifting his head to the cloudy night right as lightning illuminated the clouds above him, he spoke a silent prayer for the officers, the guild and for whatever reason they were all summoned here for. Holden smoothed out his robes and adjusted his glasses, glancing up at the briefing officer.
TPBx
Simpin for Witch Tea
The SUV shook ever so slightly as it rattled to a stop at the police barricade. A muffled and brief conversation took place between the driver and the other policemen took place before the car continued further into the site. A few moments later, the quick succession of a few bangs upon the door rattled the chassis of the vehicle. Jun gathered himself together after awaking from a short nap and opened up the door. The man stepped outside, a sullen breeze and the taps of rain fell upon his head during the brief moment. From there he shuffled across the wet asphalt to the rear of the vehicle and popped open the trunk. In the back were his "Tools of the Trade," as one may call them. Jun removed his damp coat, placed it to the side, and opened one of the cases revealing a bullet proof vest, a set of handguns, and some extra magazines. He gently lifted up one of the magazines and slid it into the chamber, pulling back the slide, and holstering it once he was finished.
Jun cycled through the motions: placing his vest on, opening up different cases, picking up what he needed, and checking to make everything was in tip-top shape. Jun then picked up his rifle of choice, the Mk.14-EBR and looked down the sight of the gun, adjusting the zeroing to be set for close range combat. He re-accustomed himself to the weight of his gun and held it up as if he was going into a firefight. Jun felt his hands trembling a bit, he closed his eyes and for a brief moment imagined himself back in Seoul, in the moment that ruined his career. At that time, he also held this very same rifle. The former soldier pushed aside those memories and refocused his attention back on preparing himself for the fight. He loaded a magazine into it and let the sounds of the parts of the gun clicking draw him away from those memories.
"Mr. Park, they want us all to meet up front."
"Yeah, I'll be right there. Almost ready," Jun replied. His English had improved incredibly over the course of the last six years spent in the states, a hint of his accent showed, but not nearly as noticeable as it was four years earlier.
Then once that was done he slung the rifle over his shoulder and opened up the last case, a peculiarly wooden one containing a crossbow, a set of only 3 truesilver bolts, and a set of 3 truesilver knives. The three knives he stored in different parts of his persona, an he picked up the crossbow along with the set of three bolts. Moments later he emerged from the back of the SUV and began rallying with the rest of the Vexpara guildmates gathering closer to the front of the building. While many of them probably saw the situation opportunity to stretch their wings, prove themselves, for some even have a little fun, Jun only saw the upcoming hours as clocking in another day at work, holding apathetic feelings about the mission other than it needed to be done. The excitement of the hunt was hammered out of him ages ago and replaced by something else he himself was not entirely sure about.
Jun cycled through the motions: placing his vest on, opening up different cases, picking up what he needed, and checking to make everything was in tip-top shape. Jun then picked up his rifle of choice, the Mk.14-EBR and looked down the sight of the gun, adjusting the zeroing to be set for close range combat. He re-accustomed himself to the weight of his gun and held it up as if he was going into a firefight. Jun felt his hands trembling a bit, he closed his eyes and for a brief moment imagined himself back in Seoul, in the moment that ruined his career. At that time, he also held this very same rifle. The former soldier pushed aside those memories and refocused his attention back on preparing himself for the fight. He loaded a magazine into it and let the sounds of the parts of the gun clicking draw him away from those memories.
"Mr. Park, they want us all to meet up front."
"Yeah, I'll be right there. Almost ready," Jun replied. His English had improved incredibly over the course of the last six years spent in the states, a hint of his accent showed, but not nearly as noticeable as it was four years earlier.
Then once that was done he slung the rifle over his shoulder and opened up the last case, a peculiarly wooden one containing a crossbow, a set of only 3 truesilver bolts, and a set of 3 truesilver knives. The three knives he stored in different parts of his persona, an he picked up the crossbow along with the set of three bolts. Moments later he emerged from the back of the SUV and began rallying with the rest of the Vexpara guildmates gathering closer to the front of the building. While many of them probably saw the situation opportunity to stretch their wings, prove themselves, for some even have a little fun, Jun only saw the upcoming hours as clocking in another day at work, holding apathetic feelings about the mission other than it needed to be done. The excitement of the hunt was hammered out of him ages ago and replaced by something else he himself was not entirely sure about.
Life.
Forever Wandering
Bancroft K. Catcher
The city lights flew across Bancroft's peripheral vision as he sped down the highway. Upon acceleration, his motorbike released obnoxious, popping sounds from its exhaust pipes drawing attention to the sleek machinery. The streets were covered with a film of water from the continuous precipitation of rain. This caused some drivers to be more cautious, which Bancroft took this opportunity to weave in between the vehicles, all the while staying within the boundaries of New York law. His usual driving speed stayed within 5 miles above the speed limit, but this evening was different. An urgent call was made to the Vexpara headquarters that broke the stagnant activity of the guild. Bancroft could already assume that some of the youngsters and adrenaline-junkies were jittering with excitement with the call for action, but for the Blooden himself he was rather indifferent about the situation for now. Not much details were given yet over the call, so he assumed that more were to be given on site.
Although there was one detail given about the situation that struck Bancroft cold, the disappearance of civilians.
The man was not one to be easily spooked or disgusted due to all the years of working on crime scenes that contained either mutilated bodies, burnt corpses, or possessed souls. But with a disappearance case this meant no body which meant no evidence and no easy sign for what to expect. The uncertainty and eeriness of that detail caused Bancroft to feel more alert than ever. He knew that this was going to be an unusual case and more than likely difficult.
His mind continued to wander as he reached his destination, parking his motorbike in an area around the corner of the crime scene. Bancroft looked over and watched as the familiar SUVs of Vexpara pulled in right after him, members eagerly climbing out to group up with the guildmaster. The Blooden removed his helmet and climbed off the bike, stretching himself out and his attire. He reached down and grabbed for his polearm weapon that was attached to the side of his bike before he walked over to join the others.
The small shred of fear and anxiety grew as Bancroft approached the site. An apartment complex of all the places. It was certainly a spot that was bound to be occupied with denizens. But at the moment about 150 individuals were gone from what the short description informed him over the call. If there were any signs of struggle, Bancroft was not sure at the moment. He shook his head softly as he recollected himself. The Blooden was already overthinking the situation. A soft mutter escaped his lips as he scolded himself for letting the case already get to him, maybe because it had been some time since he had looked into a case so seriously. As he spotted the familiar figure of Ms. Lattimore, Bancroft felt himself calming down some. He quickened his pace to join the gathered group. The Blooden was about to call out a greeting to the guildmaster but realized she was occupied in a conversation with an NYPD officer. So instead he turned over to the closest guildmates and offered his greetings to them. "Evenings fellows."
The city lights flew across Bancroft's peripheral vision as he sped down the highway. Upon acceleration, his motorbike released obnoxious, popping sounds from its exhaust pipes drawing attention to the sleek machinery. The streets were covered with a film of water from the continuous precipitation of rain. This caused some drivers to be more cautious, which Bancroft took this opportunity to weave in between the vehicles, all the while staying within the boundaries of New York law. His usual driving speed stayed within 5 miles above the speed limit, but this evening was different. An urgent call was made to the Vexpara headquarters that broke the stagnant activity of the guild. Bancroft could already assume that some of the youngsters and adrenaline-junkies were jittering with excitement with the call for action, but for the Blooden himself he was rather indifferent about the situation for now. Not much details were given yet over the call, so he assumed that more were to be given on site.
Although there was one detail given about the situation that struck Bancroft cold, the disappearance of civilians.
The man was not one to be easily spooked or disgusted due to all the years of working on crime scenes that contained either mutilated bodies, burnt corpses, or possessed souls. But with a disappearance case this meant no body which meant no evidence and no easy sign for what to expect. The uncertainty and eeriness of that detail caused Bancroft to feel more alert than ever. He knew that this was going to be an unusual case and more than likely difficult.
His mind continued to wander as he reached his destination, parking his motorbike in an area around the corner of the crime scene. Bancroft looked over and watched as the familiar SUVs of Vexpara pulled in right after him, members eagerly climbing out to group up with the guildmaster. The Blooden removed his helmet and climbed off the bike, stretching himself out and his attire. He reached down and grabbed for his polearm weapon that was attached to the side of his bike before he walked over to join the others.
The small shred of fear and anxiety grew as Bancroft approached the site. An apartment complex of all the places. It was certainly a spot that was bound to be occupied with denizens. But at the moment about 150 individuals were gone from what the short description informed him over the call. If there were any signs of struggle, Bancroft was not sure at the moment. He shook his head softly as he recollected himself. The Blooden was already overthinking the situation. A soft mutter escaped his lips as he scolded himself for letting the case already get to him, maybe because it had been some time since he had looked into a case so seriously. As he spotted the familiar figure of Ms. Lattimore, Bancroft felt himself calming down some. He quickened his pace to join the gathered group. The Blooden was about to call out a greeting to the guildmaster but realized she was occupied in a conversation with an NYPD officer. So instead he turned over to the closest guildmates and offered his greetings to them. "Evenings fellows."
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Wolf Wolf
The Dovahkiin
IRIS CAZADOR
Rain poured as the guild van made its way to the meeting point of the all-call. The windows had fogged up, the air conditioner of the vehicle was switched off, and members had donned jackets in preparation to face the weather outside. Amid the people inside the van was Iris, who was speaking in a hushed tone to someone over the phone with a hand over her mouth.
"Opo, mama. I'll be sure to stay safe."
The respectful yes in her mother tongue came naturally to her and the other woman in the call with Iris voiced a few more concerns before finally relenting and saying goodbye. "Love you too. Bye-bye." The phone let out a tiny beep when she pressed the end call button. As soon as she pocketed her cell, she became aware of the silence that suddenly reigned inside the guild van. Other members looked away or pretended to be able to see something outside the windows when Iris tried to meet any of their gazes. Kids these days. The Ouro rolled her eyes and kept quiet for the rest of the trip to the apartment.
Upon arriving at the scene, people were already busy moving about, carrying equipment here and there. Flashing lights and several police units surrounded the area. An officer was in an audience with the guildmaster, and Iris spotted familiar faces in the assembly of hunters gathering near them. Already having her gun and belt of truesilver smoke grenades with her, she strode over and found a place among the crowd. A young man was in the middle of a greeting as she approached. "Wonderful weather we're having." Iris said, corners of her mouth twitching upward. She didn't know what was in store for them, she doubted anyone did, but some light humor was never bad.
Rain poured as the guild van made its way to the meeting point of the all-call. The windows had fogged up, the air conditioner of the vehicle was switched off, and members had donned jackets in preparation to face the weather outside. Amid the people inside the van was Iris, who was speaking in a hushed tone to someone over the phone with a hand over her mouth.
"Opo, mama. I'll be sure to stay safe."
The respectful yes in her mother tongue came naturally to her and the other woman in the call with Iris voiced a few more concerns before finally relenting and saying goodbye. "Love you too. Bye-bye." The phone let out a tiny beep when she pressed the end call button. As soon as she pocketed her cell, she became aware of the silence that suddenly reigned inside the guild van. Other members looked away or pretended to be able to see something outside the windows when Iris tried to meet any of their gazes. Kids these days. The Ouro rolled her eyes and kept quiet for the rest of the trip to the apartment.
Upon arriving at the scene, people were already busy moving about, carrying equipment here and there. Flashing lights and several police units surrounded the area. An officer was in an audience with the guildmaster, and Iris spotted familiar faces in the assembly of hunters gathering near them. Already having her gun and belt of truesilver smoke grenades with her, she strode over and found a place among the crowd. A young man was in the middle of a greeting as she approached. "Wonderful weather we're having." Iris said, corners of her mouth twitching upward. She didn't know what was in store for them, she doubted anyone did, but some light humor was never bad.
Archie
Not even my final form
ARSLAN
Another day, another challenge.
"No, I can't do that right now," Arslan said over the phone, with a thick Eastern European accent. He wasn't yelling, but his voice had a tendency to project to the point at which it seemed like he was angry whenever he was excited.
"I get paid first of next month. I assure you, your product is valuable. I want more" he said over the phone before hanging up, not letting his adderall dealer get a word in sideways.
He looked at his GPS, which was booking for a destination three blocks away from the incident that Vexpara was being sent to investigate. In reality, he knew to take a right turn on 21st before arriving, but he had a habit of never entering the right address into his phone in case he was being tracked. His black van was polished and organized on the inside, and spotless on the outside. He missed his nice car back in Kalmykia, but this had to do for now.
Arslan reached for his coffee, laced with a little bit of vodka. He had been up all morning, doing things he would rather not tell the guild about, so he was tired. He took a couple sips of the coffee - its vodka content was particularly strong today.
Pulling besides the police barricade, he got out to walk. He had his usual, short haircut, which made him look like a gangster had it not been for the nice coat he was wearing. If nice clothes were a redeeming part of Arslan's look, the way he wore them wasn't. He had 3 top buttons undone today, nodding to the officers as he walked by. He donned a pink raincoat, so all he got back was a look of amusement.
He had passed by the towers under investigation before. They were always busy, but not today. In the yard, and especially inside the building, everything was still, and everything was silent. 80 people, Arslan heard. 80 disappearances. He could only imagine the fate of those that vanished. He checked his holster inside his jacket. He had two spare clips of silver bullets today, and his butterfly knife. A scant armory for a hunter - but what was the use in being a blooden if you couldn't take hits?
Arslan continued walking through the rain, his pink raincoat flashing every time a bolt of lightning stuck down. In front of him was the operations tent. He turned open the flaps as he walked in, his suit pants drenched, his pink raincoat still on.
Roleplay Skittle
Eternally Awkward
Irma Grace Beauregard
Minor incidents hardly called for the help of an Ouro, especially one with her expertise so while none of the members of Vexpara had been particularly busy with assignments, her official tasks were even less. That was fine by her, she enjoyed being left to her own devices and oft times preferred it, using the valuable down time to progress further still in her studies aside from treating guild members suffering from certain nefarious ailments. In other words, she enjoyed the calm before the storm and in this case, it was quite literal.
Perhaps it was some cosmic joke that would see fit to align the appearance of Vexpara's first real mission in a month alongside a thunderstorm and it was of no comfort to Irma thinking that it could always be worse. To say that she was acutely unsettled by the storm would be a fairly accurate statement and this much was shown by her silence. She sat in the rear of the company van as she had been at the headquarters when the call came in - much as she always was. There was a certain comfort that came to her by residing alongside the many guild members that also took up residence at the Vexpara building and it was likely something derived from all of her time spent living at the convent. There was a certain sense of security in not ever really being alone even if she was a relatively solitary being.
In a way the weather was a small blessing. The extra moisture in the air helped in keeping her right eye from becoming excessively dry, though both of her eyes were currently closed and shaded by the brim of her black baseball hat as her lips silently mouthed the rosary, her fingers keeping track on the brown beaded chain she held. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that was slipped through the back of her cap and allowed to hang freely, her ears exposed and plugged by two white earbuds which were connected to the phone in one of the pockets on her tactical vest.
Irma had a few different sets of 'Go Gear,' or as she called them, her work uniform, it was good to have a few sets in case one fell into disrepair from a particularly heinous assignment. Over her 'uniform' she wore a navy blue, water resistant jacket which was accessorized by a sturdy backpack that contained anything she'd need to stabalize a patient should something ill befall one of her comrades. The bag also had the practical concoctions she'd need for her healing magic, not that she couldn't heal without, the medical combinations simply aided in increasing the potency of an Ouro's healing prowess. The bag sat on the seat beside her along with her longsword which was too inconvenient to wear while sitting.
Her focus was on collecting her nerves, not on account of the prospect of what she and the other guild members might face, but simply because of her own inhibitions regarding the weather. She was unaware of the guy sitting on the other side of her pack attempting to console his girlfriend through text over the meal he'd be missing with her parents. She didn't hear her fellow Ouro talking on the phone in the seat in front of her and attempting to assuage her mom's worry on the other end of the call, nor the awkwardness her guildmates displayed when Miss Medic's call ended and they all avoided her gaze in their own way. Well all except for herself and the guy next to her.
As the van came to a stop at the site of the disappearances, Irma drew her prayers to a close, taking the time that it took for the others to clear the van to do so before crossing herself and placing the rosary in the pocket of her vest that lay over her heart. With a deep breath she hopped from the van, her combat boots hitting the wet asphalt outside with a thump that was accompanied by soft splatters of fallen rain, she pulled her pack over both shoulders and fastened it around her waist for stability before her sword was collected and securely equipped at her hips. Silently she followed along behind the other guild members as they gravitated towards Ms. Lattimore when she beckoned, her bare fingertips removing the earbuds from her ears and tucking them into the same pocket her phone was in.
Minor incidents hardly called for the help of an Ouro, especially one with her expertise so while none of the members of Vexpara had been particularly busy with assignments, her official tasks were even less. That was fine by her, she enjoyed being left to her own devices and oft times preferred it, using the valuable down time to progress further still in her studies aside from treating guild members suffering from certain nefarious ailments. In other words, she enjoyed the calm before the storm and in this case, it was quite literal.
Perhaps it was some cosmic joke that would see fit to align the appearance of Vexpara's first real mission in a month alongside a thunderstorm and it was of no comfort to Irma thinking that it could always be worse. To say that she was acutely unsettled by the storm would be a fairly accurate statement and this much was shown by her silence. She sat in the rear of the company van as she had been at the headquarters when the call came in - much as she always was. There was a certain comfort that came to her by residing alongside the many guild members that also took up residence at the Vexpara building and it was likely something derived from all of her time spent living at the convent. There was a certain sense of security in not ever really being alone even if she was a relatively solitary being.
In a way the weather was a small blessing. The extra moisture in the air helped in keeping her right eye from becoming excessively dry, though both of her eyes were currently closed and shaded by the brim of her black baseball hat as her lips silently mouthed the rosary, her fingers keeping track on the brown beaded chain she held. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that was slipped through the back of her cap and allowed to hang freely, her ears exposed and plugged by two white earbuds which were connected to the phone in one of the pockets on her tactical vest.
Irma had a few different sets of 'Go Gear,' or as she called them, her work uniform, it was good to have a few sets in case one fell into disrepair from a particularly heinous assignment. Over her 'uniform' she wore a navy blue, water resistant jacket which was accessorized by a sturdy backpack that contained anything she'd need to stabalize a patient should something ill befall one of her comrades. The bag also had the practical concoctions she'd need for her healing magic, not that she couldn't heal without, the medical combinations simply aided in increasing the potency of an Ouro's healing prowess. The bag sat on the seat beside her along with her longsword which was too inconvenient to wear while sitting.
Her focus was on collecting her nerves, not on account of the prospect of what she and the other guild members might face, but simply because of her own inhibitions regarding the weather. She was unaware of the guy sitting on the other side of her pack attempting to console his girlfriend through text over the meal he'd be missing with her parents. She didn't hear her fellow Ouro talking on the phone in the seat in front of her and attempting to assuage her mom's worry on the other end of the call, nor the awkwardness her guildmates displayed when Miss Medic's call ended and they all avoided her gaze in their own way. Well all except for herself and the guy next to her.
As the van came to a stop at the site of the disappearances, Irma drew her prayers to a close, taking the time that it took for the others to clear the van to do so before crossing herself and placing the rosary in the pocket of her vest that lay over her heart. With a deep breath she hopped from the van, her combat boots hitting the wet asphalt outside with a thump that was accompanied by soft splatters of fallen rain, she pulled her pack over both shoulders and fastened it around her waist for stability before her sword was collected and securely equipped at her hips. Silently she followed along behind the other guild members as they gravitated towards Ms. Lattimore when she beckoned, her bare fingertips removing the earbuds from her ears and tucking them into the same pocket her phone was in.
Lucem
Ten Thousand Club
Nathan Pierce
The click of whirling gears came to a stop as black vehicles entered his line of sight. Overpowered by the thunderous booms in the night sky, the sound of his heavy breathing was almost silenced as he remained hunched over a set of handlebars. Squinting to see through the precipitation and the wet bangs that obscured his vision, he could see several figures gathered underneath a large tent, all nice and dry. Meanwhile, he was soaked to the bone. It was a hell of a time to be riding a bike.
It was just his luck to be away from headquarters when everyone got called for a mission during a thunderstorm. If he was living in a room at HQ, he could've enjoyed a pleasant ride in one of the vans like everyone else. Although, as convenient as that would've been, the costs of shacking up there outweighed the benefits. While having to be around the demon hunting business and his coworkers more often was bad enough, there was no privacy, or adequate space to store his things. Aside from the shorter commute, the only thing appealing about living there was not having to pay rent.
Honestly, he enjoyed how quiet things had been over the month. He didn't have to deal with any demons or risk getting killed in a fight. It was a welcomed change of pace compared to how things were before. However, he still needed money. Without demons acting up and causing trouble, he didn't get paid. As much as he loved being able to laze around at home without any worries, he wasn't fine with being broke. He had bills to pay, and there was a ton of stuff he had to pre-order before the deadlines.
Because it meant getting a paycheck, Nathan was probably just as relieved as some of the other members when a big job finally came in. Even so, did it really have to be now? He was missing the premiere of a new show he had been looking forward to. Of course, he managed to set it to record while scrambling to get dressed, but that just wasn't the same as watching it live.
With the metal body reflecting sudden flashes of blue light, Nathan parked his bike before walking over to the nearby tent, tugging at his hood to protect his skin from the pouring rain. Thankfully, his usual work uniform did a pretty good job of keeping him warm. With a black topcoat, along with pants and boots to match, he blended in with the scenery pretty well. That was one of the reasons dark colors were suited for this kind of work. Useful for camouflage, hiding stains, and all that good stuff. However, the advantage offered by the night did little to make him feel better about current conditions. Seriously, walking around at night in the middle of a thunderstorm was crazy, especially after getting reports that people were disappearing. With things like this, it'd be hard for anyone to notice if you got grabbed by something lurking in the shadows. It was straight out of a horror movie. He wasn't overly worried about that kind of thing, but he definitely wasn't keeping his hand too far away from the sword strapped to his back.
Under the canopy, all the usual people were standing around, including the boss. Even when it sounded like the sky was exploding, he could still hear Lattimore calling for them. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't quick to chat anyone up, instead choosing to focus on warming up his gloved hands. Even though he was out of the rain, there was still plenty of water dripping from his body.
Despite not offering any greetings, Nathan still made his presence known when he let out a sneeze, followed by a low groan. Even if he didn't die tonight, he'd be lucky if he made it out of this without a cold. His sighs stifled by sniffles, he hoped that things would wrap up quickly.
The click of whirling gears came to a stop as black vehicles entered his line of sight. Overpowered by the thunderous booms in the night sky, the sound of his heavy breathing was almost silenced as he remained hunched over a set of handlebars. Squinting to see through the precipitation and the wet bangs that obscured his vision, he could see several figures gathered underneath a large tent, all nice and dry. Meanwhile, he was soaked to the bone. It was a hell of a time to be riding a bike.
It was just his luck to be away from headquarters when everyone got called for a mission during a thunderstorm. If he was living in a room at HQ, he could've enjoyed a pleasant ride in one of the vans like everyone else. Although, as convenient as that would've been, the costs of shacking up there outweighed the benefits. While having to be around the demon hunting business and his coworkers more often was bad enough, there was no privacy, or adequate space to store his things. Aside from the shorter commute, the only thing appealing about living there was not having to pay rent.
Honestly, he enjoyed how quiet things had been over the month. He didn't have to deal with any demons or risk getting killed in a fight. It was a welcomed change of pace compared to how things were before. However, he still needed money. Without demons acting up and causing trouble, he didn't get paid. As much as he loved being able to laze around at home without any worries, he wasn't fine with being broke. He had bills to pay, and there was a ton of stuff he had to pre-order before the deadlines.
Because it meant getting a paycheck, Nathan was probably just as relieved as some of the other members when a big job finally came in. Even so, did it really have to be now? He was missing the premiere of a new show he had been looking forward to. Of course, he managed to set it to record while scrambling to get dressed, but that just wasn't the same as watching it live.
With the metal body reflecting sudden flashes of blue light, Nathan parked his bike before walking over to the nearby tent, tugging at his hood to protect his skin from the pouring rain. Thankfully, his usual work uniform did a pretty good job of keeping him warm. With a black topcoat, along with pants and boots to match, he blended in with the scenery pretty well. That was one of the reasons dark colors were suited for this kind of work. Useful for camouflage, hiding stains, and all that good stuff. However, the advantage offered by the night did little to make him feel better about current conditions. Seriously, walking around at night in the middle of a thunderstorm was crazy, especially after getting reports that people were disappearing. With things like this, it'd be hard for anyone to notice if you got grabbed by something lurking in the shadows. It was straight out of a horror movie. He wasn't overly worried about that kind of thing, but he definitely wasn't keeping his hand too far away from the sword strapped to his back.
Under the canopy, all the usual people were standing around, including the boss. Even when it sounded like the sky was exploding, he could still hear Lattimore calling for them. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't quick to chat anyone up, instead choosing to focus on warming up his gloved hands. Even though he was out of the rain, there was still plenty of water dripping from his body.
Despite not offering any greetings, Nathan still made his presence known when he let out a sneeze, followed by a low groan. Even if he didn't die tonight, he'd be lucky if he made it out of this without a cold. His sighs stifled by sniffles, he hoped that things would wrap up quickly.
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Bumblebee
-Level 30 Arthropod
The sound of the trunk being slammed shut sent shivers down Austin's spine, also snapping him out of his momentary daydream. It's been a while since their last mission, almost too long for the cowboy's preference, causing a million trivial thoughts to wander through his mind.
With a sigh and a quick rub of the bridge of his nose, he adjusted the casket resting on his back like some large single-strap backpack, heading towards the sizable crowd of hunters huddled around the guild master.
The rhythmic tapping of Austin's black combat boots against the wet floor ringed inside his head on repeat. They were reminiscent of his daily routine until now, a monotonous cycle of boring activities, and that was enough to put him in a constant foul mood.
But all was well and fine now, or at least not for the dozens of missing denizens they were called about. A seemingly high-profile case was underway, and as much as he hated to admit, Austin was getting somewhat rusty, so now would be a good chance to knock some of that rust off. This was precisely just what he needed.
Finally reaching his fellow guild-mates, he gave a silent wave as he glanced around the rest of the hunters called to action, feeling slightly out of place.
"Sure do hope I ain't too late to the party."
Muttered the cowboy to himself, scratching his neck. He didn't know the others very well yet, so he decided it would be best to mostly keep to himself, also keeping his greetings short, sweet and to the point.
With a sigh and a quick rub of the bridge of his nose, he adjusted the casket resting on his back like some large single-strap backpack, heading towards the sizable crowd of hunters huddled around the guild master.
The rhythmic tapping of Austin's black combat boots against the wet floor ringed inside his head on repeat. They were reminiscent of his daily routine until now, a monotonous cycle of boring activities, and that was enough to put him in a constant foul mood.
But all was well and fine now, or at least not for the dozens of missing denizens they were called about. A seemingly high-profile case was underway, and as much as he hated to admit, Austin was getting somewhat rusty, so now would be a good chance to knock some of that rust off. This was precisely just what he needed.
Finally reaching his fellow guild-mates, he gave a silent wave as he glanced around the rest of the hunters called to action, feeling slightly out of place.
"Sure do hope I ain't too late to the party."
Muttered the cowboy to himself, scratching his neck. He didn't know the others very well yet, so he decided it would be best to mostly keep to himself, also keeping his greetings short, sweet and to the point.
Coin
world's okayest lobotomite
Kendra Lattimore
Through the thick lenses of her spectacles, Kendra studied the shaky footage of the anomaly at Willow Rest South over and over again. She held the tablet that the briefing sergeant had given her a mere few inches from her face as the footage looped on mute. It began as green energy began to pour from the windows, like a sinister bonfire behind each and every window of the apartment against the dusk. There was no need to unmute the video, as the expletives being gushed by the cameraman drowned out any useful audio evidence. A few seconds into the clip, and the light radiating from the windows grew brighter and brighter until the phone's camera registered nothing but a few milliseconds of baleful green. Once the light faded and the footage steadied, it appeared that several, but not all, windows had been shattered in the burst of energy. Headlights flared from tripped car alarms, and neighbors trickled out of their apartments to see what the commotion was. The video ended abruptly and the loop began once more.
After a handful more replays waiting for her guild to arrive, Kendra tapped the pause button, pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes as she breathed a sigh. She had a bad gut feeling about the job the moment Commissioner Paris phoned her about it, but her concerns only bloomed into further worry as more details and evidence were presented to her. Though she tried to hold her usual smug and collected demeanor, those more familiar with her could see the lines of stress on her lips and forehead. With a few more taps onto the tablet in her hand, she sent the footage to the projector the officers had set up inside the tent. She cleared her throat and addressed her guildmates that had already gathered under the pavilion with her.
"Alright, everybody, eyes here," Kendra raised her voice to talk over everyone's idle chatter and to be heard clearly over the pouring rain. "I know not everyone's here yet, but we'll make do with what we have here and reserves can back us up as they come -- time is not on our side. We're looking at eighty plus civilians missing from their homes spanning a time frame of less than a minute. Everyone take one good look at the footage on screen. It's all we've got in terms of trying to figure out what we're dealing with." Kendra jabbed her thumb behind her towards the projector screen and remained silent for a few moments to allow her guildmates to view the video she had been studying for the last few minutes.
The guildmaster paused the video just before the flare of green energy reached its zenith, flooding the tent with a sickly glow. Using the tablet in her hand, she zoomed closer onto a window on the second floor of the apartment until it was nothing more than grainy colors and shapes in the frame. From the tablet, Kendra fast forwarded the video on the projector one frame at a time, until the dark blob became clearer and looked more akin to a silhouette raising an orb of infernal energy over its head in midst of a spell cast. She tapped the figure with her pointer figure and spoke aloud to address her people once again, "This is the closest thing we've got to a perpetrator. Human, demon, we're not sure, but we do know he or she is capable of powerful Gate rituals. I wish I had more info for everyone, but we're just barely above non-zero in terms of intel. Even trying to figure out who's supposed to live in that room is a nightmare."
Kendra shut the video loop on the projector off and handed the tablet back to the sergeant before continuing, "The plan is simple and adaptive. We'll storm the apartment from the ground floor and work our way up. SWAT is almost set up on adjacent rooftops, and they'll intercept stragglers that make it to the roof if need be. Our objective on the inside is to make contact with the baddies, disrupt the Gate ritual, and get our civilians back to safety."
After a brief nod to the technical officer, the projector switched to display a floor plan of the apartment. The guildmaster pointed out a large room on the first floor, then turned back to her subordinates, "This is a gym on the first floor. Nothing fancy, but this will be our entry point. I'll gate us through the wall, and from there we'll secure the main hallway, then we'll prop the front door for entry and exit once we clear it of any traps. If anyone was there with me, remember Prague -- assume every door and corner is trapped."
She paused briefly to let the exorcists study the map and digest her words so far, with patient expression on her face as she waited, "Once we clear the first floor, we'll move to the second from the south stairwell beside the front entrance. A rear guard will advance up the north stairwell at the same time we do to ensure no one slips out from the other end. Rinse and repeat until we clear every floor. Everyone got that? Any questions for me, ask them now. Otherwise, get geared and ready to move. We move out in five minutes, and I'm going in too this time."
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TPBx
Simpin for Witch Tea
Jun ran his fingers through the pockets of his coat, searching for his pack of cigarettes, as he was joining a group of veteran hunters inside one of the tents. He fumbled around with the small cardboard box trying to empty out one of the last few cigarettes inside of it. Once he got a hold of one, he stuck it between his lips and much more briskly pulled out his lighter. After a few moments of struggling to get the lighter to work in the rain and wind, Jun finally had a lit cigarette that he could take a few puffs from to calm his nerves. He walked into the tent after taking a few more puffs of smoke before tossing the rest of the cigarette onto the pavement, letting the rain snuff it out.
"Yo, Catcher, Arslan, Iris, " he said to the hunters whose faces he recognized. He then sat through the Guildmaster's briefing. The plan was in fact very simple but the stakes were high. If they failed here, there would be the possibility of opening another gate into Hell. Even without that possibility, an entity of this Infermal Magic capability was definitely a threat to the general public. After she made her finishing remarks, Jun nodded in acknowledgement and made his way toward the other guildmates to figure out more detailed plans and decide on who is teaming up with who.
"Yo, Catcher, Arslan, Iris, " he said to the hunters whose faces he recognized. He then sat through the Guildmaster's briefing. The plan was in fact very simple but the stakes were high. If they failed here, there would be the possibility of opening another gate into Hell. Even without that possibility, an entity of this Infermal Magic capability was definitely a threat to the general public. After she made her finishing remarks, Jun nodded in acknowledgement and made his way toward the other guildmates to figure out more detailed plans and decide on who is teaming up with who.
Soviet Panda
Red Panda Commanda.
Connor stepped out of the SUV that had pulled up and gave a disdainful look at the sky that had opened up. His chains rattled as they wove themselves tightly above him, serving as a makeshift umbrella to protect their wielder from the pelting rain. Connor had arrived late, something he did not often like to do. At least the meeting point was obvious, judging by the sickly green glow that lit it up from the inside. Quickly, he made his way over, and silently he slipped inside to catch a glimpse of the possible suspect. He listened patiently to the plan, nodding in understanding before launching into his questions.
"The artifact the suspect has we can assume is powerful. How are we to separate them from it? I can have a coffin prepared for them, but I doubt they will enter it willingly. And with an artifact of that power, they could easily break out if we can even manage to get them into it." The general rule of thumb was that they were to capture the suspect and bring them into custody, a task made no easier with the introduction of demons and magic. Best to plan a way of capture with those two in mind.
"The artifact the suspect has we can assume is powerful. How are we to separate them from it? I can have a coffin prepared for them, but I doubt they will enter it willingly. And with an artifact of that power, they could easily break out if we can even manage to get them into it." The general rule of thumb was that they were to capture the suspect and bring them into custody, a task made no easier with the introduction of demons and magic. Best to plan a way of capture with those two in mind.
DarkianMaker
Pope of the cheese god Kambert
Nikodem Xuthus Priscos
He hadn't expected a deployment today but then again evil never rests. He was enjoying a nice meal when the call came in and he didn't hesitate to put his dinner away and to make his way to the armory. He immediately begun his ritual that accompanied him putting on his armor and managed to finish his ritual by the time others began to gather downstairs to hop in the van. He grabbed his sidearm, filled his pouches with spare clips, grabbed his knives and slid them into their sheaths, took his sword and slid it into the scabbard on her back and then decided to bring the shield instead of the rifle, for a call like this he expected to need the shield more.
The drive to the scene was rather uneventful, he watched as the other hunters in the van seemed to mentally prepare themselves for the upcoming mission if at all. He was steeling himself with a silent prayer and finished moments after the van arrived at its destination. He waited for the rest to disembark first before picking up his shield and getting out himself. He calmly made his way to the tent through the pelting rain, he could go faster but what was the point of exerting himself before he actually needed to?
He entered the tent just in time for Lattimore's briefing and paid close attention to the information provided. Demons most likely, figures. So they were to go in and root out the perpetrator and find out what happened to the civilians, pretty basic procedure. One thing came to mind and he knew he had to ask about it. They had five minutes to prepare so he just slid a magazine into his sidearm before putting his sidearm back into its holster. He then addressed the question that came to mind. "Ma'am, does the building have connections to the sewers that a person could get through?" He asked Lattimore as it could be critical in his eyes.
He hadn't expected a deployment today but then again evil never rests. He was enjoying a nice meal when the call came in and he didn't hesitate to put his dinner away and to make his way to the armory. He immediately begun his ritual that accompanied him putting on his armor and managed to finish his ritual by the time others began to gather downstairs to hop in the van. He grabbed his sidearm, filled his pouches with spare clips, grabbed his knives and slid them into their sheaths, took his sword and slid it into the scabbard on her back and then decided to bring the shield instead of the rifle, for a call like this he expected to need the shield more.
The drive to the scene was rather uneventful, he watched as the other hunters in the van seemed to mentally prepare themselves for the upcoming mission if at all. He was steeling himself with a silent prayer and finished moments after the van arrived at its destination. He waited for the rest to disembark first before picking up his shield and getting out himself. He calmly made his way to the tent through the pelting rain, he could go faster but what was the point of exerting himself before he actually needed to?
He entered the tent just in time for Lattimore's briefing and paid close attention to the information provided. Demons most likely, figures. So they were to go in and root out the perpetrator and find out what happened to the civilians, pretty basic procedure. One thing came to mind and he knew he had to ask about it. They had five minutes to prepare so he just slid a magazine into his sidearm before putting his sidearm back into its holster. He then addressed the question that came to mind. "Ma'am, does the building have connections to the sewers that a person could get through?" He asked Lattimore as it could be critical in his eyes.
Katsuya
Magical artist
- Magnolia Noir -
Inside of one of the Black SUVs, a tiny young woman took a deep breathe and sighed. Her hot breath fogged the cold window for a quick few seconds as the rain drizzled on it. Her leg shook up and down, anticipating and worrying about what this big case is going to be.
Finally. Vexpara finally have a big case to solve and Magnolia is nervous.
She got used to the lull of small jobs over the month, taking on a few to have some sort of income. She didn't even need her rifle most of the time, just talk, investigate, and tell the employer at the time that nothing dangerous has happened basically. It was nice for awhile.
Magnolia sighed again. She missed the boring calmness. At least it didn't jitter her nerves like this big case that practically everyone is gathering to.
As the SUV parked, she opened the car door, walked in the rain, and immediately went to the back to grab her rifle to sling over her shoulder. The guildmates that came with her did the same with their weapons. She hunched her shoulders a bit, making herself look smaller as to not catch anybody's view while walking to the gathered area. Her being a half-demon is not a secret as she's one of the rare few who's in Vexpara and to some, she's not a welcoming sight. So she didn't want them to see her. At all. As much as she can.
They are not a welcoming sight to her either, but at least she can trust them enough to not harm her during a job.
Her green eyes roamed around, spotting a big guildmate come in with a pink raincoat and heard someone sneezing in the back. Then she paused, taking a deep breathe to gather courage, and made her way towards a familiar blonde Ouro. Once she's close enough, Magnolia lightly tugged on her jacket and grinned at her now quiet childhood friend.
"Hi, Irma." She greeted, happy that there is a friendly face nearby. It was then that the wary-looking Kendra spoke up, catching everyone's attention as she showed a video. Magnolia had to squint her eyes when the green lights got brighter and brighter only to disappear, leaving broken windows behind. As she listened to the instructions and to the questions, once again, she gripped on her rifle's strap tightly. Whatever caused this much damage with Gate magic is dangerous.
"I think I should use thermal vision to see through the rooms as we check them." Magnolia muttered nervously.
Inside of one of the Black SUVs, a tiny young woman took a deep breathe and sighed. Her hot breath fogged the cold window for a quick few seconds as the rain drizzled on it. Her leg shook up and down, anticipating and worrying about what this big case is going to be.
Finally. Vexpara finally have a big case to solve and Magnolia is nervous.
She got used to the lull of small jobs over the month, taking on a few to have some sort of income. She didn't even need her rifle most of the time, just talk, investigate, and tell the employer at the time that nothing dangerous has happened basically. It was nice for awhile.
Magnolia sighed again. She missed the boring calmness. At least it didn't jitter her nerves like this big case that practically everyone is gathering to.
As the SUV parked, she opened the car door, walked in the rain, and immediately went to the back to grab her rifle to sling over her shoulder. The guildmates that came with her did the same with their weapons. She hunched her shoulders a bit, making herself look smaller as to not catch anybody's view while walking to the gathered area. Her being a half-demon is not a secret as she's one of the rare few who's in Vexpara and to some, she's not a welcoming sight. So she didn't want them to see her. At all. As much as she can.
They are not a welcoming sight to her either, but at least she can trust them enough to not harm her during a job.
Her green eyes roamed around, spotting a big guildmate come in with a pink raincoat and heard someone sneezing in the back. Then she paused, taking a deep breathe to gather courage, and made her way towards a familiar blonde Ouro. Once she's close enough, Magnolia lightly tugged on her jacket and grinned at her now quiet childhood friend.
"Hi, Irma." She greeted, happy that there is a friendly face nearby. It was then that the wary-looking Kendra spoke up, catching everyone's attention as she showed a video. Magnolia had to squint her eyes when the green lights got brighter and brighter only to disappear, leaving broken windows behind. As she listened to the instructions and to the questions, once again, she gripped on her rifle's strap tightly. Whatever caused this much damage with Gate magic is dangerous.
"I think I should use thermal vision to see through the rooms as we check them." Magnolia muttered nervously.
Lucem
Ten Thousand Club
Nathan Pierce
The sickly green glow covered Nathan's face as he nervously stared at the projector, his look of unease covered by recently warmed gloves. Seriously? His brow furrowed and lips curved downward, his expression was warped by a mix of anxiousness and exasperation. From where he was standing, Lattimore didn't seem too happy with the situation either, but likely for different reasons.
Gate. Nathan could tell what was going on in the video without needing to be told, but that didn't make it any less off-putting. Seeing Infernal magic on that scale being let off so quickly didn't exactly put him at ease when he had to barge into that apartment soon. Not even Kendra could pull something like that off. That speed and range was just crazy. Maybe whoever used that magic had a bunch of prep time and somehow went unnoticed. Perhaps there was a bunch of other blobs running around casting at the same time and the cameras just didn't catch them. Or maybe whatever they were dealing with really was just that powerful to do that by themselves at a moment's notice. Regardless of the answer, this mission was still going to be a massive pain. As glad as he was to finally be getting paid, did they really have to make this their first gig after a whole month of down time? No warm up jobs or anything?
Nathan didn't even like the idea of going to a normal gym, so barging into a possibly demon-infested one at night wasn't exactly music to his ears when the boss began giving orders. He would've liked to say that having her come along was a comfort, possibly being able to neutralize the target by herself without needing any assistance if they were lucky. However, he had a feeling that it wouldn't be that easy. Nothing ever was.
At the very least, the plan itself was simple. There wasn't a lot of complex stuff to consider before setting out, so he had a second to get his bearings while everyone began to prep. A little bit of sneezing managed to get rid of the stuffy feeling in his nose, but recovering his ability to smell was hardly a blessing when Park decided to bring out the cigarettes. Even though the embers had been doused with water, the scent of smoke still lingered. Hopefully all that ash didn't give away their position on the inside. Well, even if the demon's didn't get him eventually, smoker's lung probably would.
As much as he hated the new smell, he'd take it over the sounds that McKinley was making. Mixing in with the raging sounds of the storm, chains creepily rattled in the night. It was like listening to some ghost from an old cartoon. Was it that hard to just use an umbrella?
With the time until departure counting down, more guild members began to arrive, showing up fashionably late. Among them, there was the girl with mixed blood. It was difficult to tell at first glance that she wasn't completely human, but the unnatural colors still served as a sign of her lineage. Despite looking so much like the other members, there was still that faint awkward feeling he got whenever he was around demons. Although, that brewing sensation in his gut was ignored in favor of the question directed at Kendra.
At the mention of sewers, Nathan hoped that Priscos wouldn't give the boss any ideas. There was no way that he was dealing with demons and sewers in one night. Compared to walking through the underground filth of the city in search of some hidden route, entering through the gym didn't sound so bad.
simj26
Awful, Terrible, No-good Layabout
Marina Godwin
Bulletproof vests didn't do jack shit against demon magicks, but one could never be sure when those fuckers could be packing heat. Now that they were a right fucking part of the ecosystem of humanity, or what’s left of it, they could just as well be carrying. And that was exactly why she was standing by the tent’s entrance, not only in her usual suit and a raincoat, but also with a black bulletproof vest over her white shirt and tie. Speaking of carrying, she patted the iron on her chest through her clear, plastic raincoat. A simple Glock 17 was nestled in a shoulder holster, loaded and ready, safety switched on, with three other mags on her belt. Simple, small, and tremendously sturdy for something its size, these were practically choice weapons for anyone going out for demon-hunting. She didn't like to carry guns around, and preferred their bones ripple through her hands as she shattered them, but it didn't mean she couldn't spend some time acquainting herself with the guns available in the armory. Her hand moved to her jacket’s pockets, and brushed against them lightly. The weight that tugged on them reminded her that guns were only as temporary as their ammunition.
She lifted the tent flap, and peered outside for a second, then plucked the cigarette out of her mouth, and flicked it out into the rain. As the embers darkened, flattened by the rain, she turned back to the interior of the tent, striding over to the guildmaster as she finished her brief. Marina had caught about, maybe, 70 percent of it. That was all she needed to hear anyway. Bunch of shit exploding, demon magicks, yadda yadda yadda, gotta check if the civvies were still breathing and break someone’s nose if necessary. She hoped it was necessary. She didn't get sent out here in the fucking rain just so she could climb a bunch of stairs and scowl at civvies, whilst being flanked by a bunch of half-breeds. If that Magnolia chick was a half-demon, then any of these other fuckers were the same as her. She looked the same as any other human being, and she was open about her bloodline. What about the others that weren’t? When will the humans be taken over by these…things? Marina shuddered at the thought.
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Coin
world's okayest lobotomite
Kendra Lattimore
After she had given her briefing and waited for others to prepare, she went through all of her things as well. Lattimore wasn't much for too much flashy equipment or armor herself. She settled for a sturdy, form-fitting black outfit with an underarm holster and a simple duty belt. Starting with her SIG handgun, she pulled it out of its holster, and racked a round into the chamber from its current magazine. A few taps of her belt confirmed that she had indeed not forgotten the two spare magazines at HQ. Among the extra ammunition on her belt, she carried her sheathed truesilver dagger, a compact LED flashlight, an industrial multi-tool, and two truesilver smoke grenades. As much as she didn't like it, she also wore a ballistic vest over her chest because of her subordinates' insistence.
By the time she had finished with her gear check, she had been approached by some of her guildmates who had questions that weren't answered in the briefing. Kendra first nodded to Niko, then looked over at the SWAT trucks that had pulled in a few minutes ago, "If the building plans are right, there is only realistically one route that could offer any possible escape or entry through the sewage. It's blocked off underground by a series of grates, but I believe Lieutenant Blake has volunteered his SWAT team and their local exorcist to secure that route."
She then heard Connor out and nodded, recalling the grainy footage they were working with. She had assumed that the orb of energy the figure held over its head was simply an energy discharge from the magic being cast, but hadn't considered the possibility of an enchanted item in play, "Good point, McKinley. In an ideal situation where we're only dealing with one or a few suspects, you, Bancroft, Marina, and Niko ought to work together and try to work our perp into that coffin of yours. If by chance we're dealing with a rogue greater demon, we're counting on you four to secure the target head-on while we weaken them and take care of any lackeys they might have. Understood?"
Kendra looked to her gathered hunters, then grabbed a black plastic box from the table beside her and popped the lid off. Inside were several grey earpieces, each dotted with a dull blue light. The guildmaster took one for herself and plugged it into her ear. "We'll be working closely with SWAT and the NYPD, so grab one of these earpiece radios and get comfortable. The top circular button is broadcast, and the bottom square button is the mute. Any other questions for the NYPD or I before we move out?"
((Mentioned:
Soviet Panda
,
Life.
,
simj26
,
DarkianMaker
))
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Quentin Granger
"Better not see any stupid cowboy crap again," Quentin muttered near the back of the group. The old lad and his battered, early 90's monstrosity of a car had been a little late thanks to his day job, but he was there long enough to get the gist of everything, and was more than prepared for the job ahead; one of the other personnel had gone ahead and picked his loadout for him this time. Not that Quentin was going to complain--well actually he was, about a lot of things, really, but not about this in particular--seeing as what was chosen was more or less what he would have picked for this sort of job. A magazine-loaded pump-action for tight corridors, a micro-uzi for, well, longer corridors, and his treasured Magnum with assorted ammunition, for Deep Shit.
He cast his eye sideways at the NYPD officers; government jobs didn't offer the same sort of haul as more "private" escapades, and even though he couldn't fault the officers themselves for the difference in pay, he was most certainly going to try. Everyone else had locked and loaded by then, and the janitor himself had very little to ask or to say. "Everyone better not make a mess," he said, partly to the group, yet partly to himself, "either of the apartment or of your eqipment. And if you track anything through the lobby when we get back we're going to have a problem." He cast his narrowed eyes across the group, one of them bulging slightly larger than the other. "Don't bring any mess back like less time unless you want to experience up close and personally just how long it takes to get demon blood out of a priceless carpet."
"Better not see any stupid cowboy crap again," Quentin muttered near the back of the group. The old lad and his battered, early 90's monstrosity of a car had been a little late thanks to his day job, but he was there long enough to get the gist of everything, and was more than prepared for the job ahead; one of the other personnel had gone ahead and picked his loadout for him this time. Not that Quentin was going to complain--well actually he was, about a lot of things, really, but not about this in particular--seeing as what was chosen was more or less what he would have picked for this sort of job. A magazine-loaded pump-action for tight corridors, a micro-uzi for, well, longer corridors, and his treasured Magnum with assorted ammunition, for Deep Shit.
He cast his eye sideways at the NYPD officers; government jobs didn't offer the same sort of haul as more "private" escapades, and even though he couldn't fault the officers themselves for the difference in pay, he was most certainly going to try. Everyone else had locked and loaded by then, and the janitor himself had very little to ask or to say. "Everyone better not make a mess," he said, partly to the group, yet partly to himself, "either of the apartment or of your eqipment. And if you track anything through the lobby when we get back we're going to have a problem." He cast his narrowed eyes across the group, one of them bulging slightly larger than the other. "Don't bring any mess back like less time unless you want to experience up close and personally just how long it takes to get demon blood out of a priceless carpet."
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Aldur
Memory Dealer
Finlay Douglas
Finlay had just set the tobacco in his pipe ablaze before giving the rain a good old sniff. He clutched the umbrella tightly between his forearm and his chest. He huffed and puffed a total of three times and went on his merry way to the rendezvous point. He'd put on his best flat cap for the occasion. The one that matches his brown peacoat. A military bag was slung over his shoulder, harboring obvious secrets for those who knew him. He left a trail of smoke as he went. He refused to take the vans this time around. The atmosphere inside them was mute and tense. He instead chose a similarly quiet, but more reclined stroll through the thunderstorm.
In the end, he did run late, but not by much he thought. He greeted the policemen around the tent with short nods and muffled "Evenin'"s. When he peered into the tent, his eyes were struck by a devilish, unnatural green. Finlay retracted his umbrella and left it at the tent entrance. He gave a respectful nod to Ms. Kendra and started unbuttoning his pea coat, revealing a lightweight ballistic vest, for peace of mind. The large Scotsman then procured his trusty hatchet from his bag, followed by the disassembled shotgun. He slid the hatchet on a belt holster and put the two pieces of the firearm together and locked them in place with a pin. Finally, he donned the signature gauntlets and turned his attention to the earpieces. He went and got one for himself before old Quentin interrupted.
"Yer a wee scunner, ain't ye, Quentin? Do we look like the clean-up crew?" Finlay chuckled.
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Coin
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Wolf Wolf
The Dovahkiin
Iris Cazador
Iris raised a hand in greeting at Jun, who just entered the tent. A few more hunters followed suit, and soon, the guildmaster called the attention of everyone present. As she talked, the Ouro couldn't help but sigh quietly to herself. So many people gone in such a short amount of time. Who or what could have done this? Poor Kendra's not looking so good either. Hayy.
Iris rested her gaze on the screen presented to the members, and upon seeing the contents of the video the guildmaster played for them, her mouth thinned. No matter how many cases she has been on, she'll never be excited for the hunt. She listened to any information the leader had to offer before musing over what she could inquire. She was fine with the plan, because what else could they do? They had to act fast. "Ma'am," she started, getting an earpiece mid-speech, along with other guildmates. "Were the records of residency tampered with or removed from the site?" If that were the case, then they really were dealing with the unknown.
Iris gave Quentin an amused look as he warned everyone to stay clean and orderly. He sure knew how to break the tense atmosphere.
Iris raised a hand in greeting at Jun, who just entered the tent. A few more hunters followed suit, and soon, the guildmaster called the attention of everyone present. As she talked, the Ouro couldn't help but sigh quietly to herself. So many people gone in such a short amount of time. Who or what could have done this? Poor Kendra's not looking so good either. Hayy.
Iris rested her gaze on the screen presented to the members, and upon seeing the contents of the video the guildmaster played for them, her mouth thinned. No matter how many cases she has been on, she'll never be excited for the hunt. She listened to any information the leader had to offer before musing over what she could inquire. She was fine with the plan, because what else could they do? They had to act fast. "Ma'am," she started, getting an earpiece mid-speech, along with other guildmates. "Were the records of residency tampered with or removed from the site?" If that were the case, then they really were dealing with the unknown.
Iris gave Quentin an amused look as he warned everyone to stay clean and orderly. He sure knew how to break the tense atmosphere.
WaywardJester
New Member
Holden Amhurst
It's a fine day when there's an active hunt; less so when you're hunting something that could drop you off at the nearest starbucks in hell with gate magic that could make even the guildmaster cringe. Eighty souls...Holden thought to himself. Damn near an entire building in the span of seconds. He hadn't even seen Ms. Lattimore wield gate magic that powerfully and that fast. This stunk of greater demon potential, or at the very least an extremely ambitious lesser demon. Either way the majority of the guild was here and more were flocking in as the briefing continued. Holden continued looking over the floor plans as he secured his earpiece. It would be a tight run for sure. He'd likely be positioned in the middle; behind the heavy hitters like Marina, Niko or Finlay but in front of one of the Ouros Iris or Irma. Whatever the position Holden was confident that Kendra would keep them sharp.
Holden lost himself in his thoughts as he secured his cross holster again. He checked the vest under his robes and found it fastened good and tight. There's a brief disconnect from the world when preparing for a battle. Almost meditative. He could see it amongst the others as they prepared. Some were more focused than others but that didn't matter. The one thing was constant was the excitement. Lives were at stake, eighty plus to be exact. Not to mention their own. Holden closed his eyes and began praying for them all, chuckling slightly in the middle of it as he heard the exchange between Finlay and Quentin. At least there was still some fun to be had.
It's a fine day when there's an active hunt; less so when you're hunting something that could drop you off at the nearest starbucks in hell with gate magic that could make even the guildmaster cringe. Eighty souls...Holden thought to himself. Damn near an entire building in the span of seconds. He hadn't even seen Ms. Lattimore wield gate magic that powerfully and that fast. This stunk of greater demon potential, or at the very least an extremely ambitious lesser demon. Either way the majority of the guild was here and more were flocking in as the briefing continued. Holden continued looking over the floor plans as he secured his earpiece. It would be a tight run for sure. He'd likely be positioned in the middle; behind the heavy hitters like Marina, Niko or Finlay but in front of one of the Ouros Iris or Irma. Whatever the position Holden was confident that Kendra would keep them sharp.
Holden lost himself in his thoughts as he secured his cross holster again. He checked the vest under his robes and found it fastened good and tight. There's a brief disconnect from the world when preparing for a battle. Almost meditative. He could see it amongst the others as they prepared. Some were more focused than others but that didn't matter. The one thing was constant was the excitement. Lives were at stake, eighty plus to be exact. Not to mention their own. Holden closed his eyes and began praying for them all, chuckling slightly in the middle of it as he heard the exchange between Finlay and Quentin. At least there was still some fun to be had.
Life.
Forever Wandering
Bancroft K. Catcher
Bancroft's eyes continuously flitted over to the edges of the tent as more members arrived for the call. While his attention kept drifting in between the incoming figures, his mind was occupied by the guildmaster. Having worked with Ms. Lattimore for years, the Blooden was able to note the subtle creases on the woman's face. This was not going to be an easy mission. Bancroft released a small sigh once he came to the conclusion. Despite the worry, there was a slight sense of relief felt inside of the man. It had been a while since a challenge came along, but he wondered how difficult this case was going to be. Some newer members have joined Vexpara recently, so this would make for a great test for them as well as a nice refresher for the veterans.
The Blooden's thoughts were interrupted when he heard his name. Bancroft looked over and saw Jun approaching him and a few others close by, "Evening Jun." The man was a Crane that Bancroft respected especially with his patient and serious demeanor. If the current atmosphere had not been so grim, Bancroft may have attempted to initiate a conversation with the man. But as soon as he had returned the Crane's greeting, Bancroft had returned his attention over to Ms. Lattimore as she called for the guild's attention.
All theories, thoughts, and worries momentarily left Bancroft's mind as he concentrated on the video, taking in every detail that Ms. Lattimore pointed out as well as a few others that he was able to note. A frown appeared on the Blooden's face as she pointed out the large anomaly of the whole situation, a silhouette of a figure. But from the quality and distance of the captured point of view, it was difficult to tell if they were dealing with a human or demon. Although the magnitude of the magic conjured was leaning Bancroft's opinion more towards the latter option.
Ms. Lattimore had clearly lined out their current plan of action and quickly dismissed the members to have them assemble their positions. Bancroft sat there for a minute longer thinking through what role he was going to take in this grand scheme, oblivious to all other bantering and mingling occurring around him. But soon he was almost sure he heard his name once more. The Blooden stood up and looked over to the guildmaster, who was currently talking to McKinley. Not entirely sure if he heard correctly, Bancroft decided to wait to see if McKinley would approach him with information before he assumed his position.
Once the guildmaster had answered all initial questions, she addressed the assembly of members over to the communication devices that they were to use for the mission. Bancroft walked over to the edge of members who were already retrieving the devices. He waited till a few of the members in front of him had taken theirs before he reached down to grab his. Quickly the Blooden wore the earpiece in place before he lost the device.
Bancroft's eyes continuously flitted over to the edges of the tent as more members arrived for the call. While his attention kept drifting in between the incoming figures, his mind was occupied by the guildmaster. Having worked with Ms. Lattimore for years, the Blooden was able to note the subtle creases on the woman's face. This was not going to be an easy mission. Bancroft released a small sigh once he came to the conclusion. Despite the worry, there was a slight sense of relief felt inside of the man. It had been a while since a challenge came along, but he wondered how difficult this case was going to be. Some newer members have joined Vexpara recently, so this would make for a great test for them as well as a nice refresher for the veterans.
The Blooden's thoughts were interrupted when he heard his name. Bancroft looked over and saw Jun approaching him and a few others close by, "Evening Jun." The man was a Crane that Bancroft respected especially with his patient and serious demeanor. If the current atmosphere had not been so grim, Bancroft may have attempted to initiate a conversation with the man. But as soon as he had returned the Crane's greeting, Bancroft had returned his attention over to Ms. Lattimore as she called for the guild's attention.
All theories, thoughts, and worries momentarily left Bancroft's mind as he concentrated on the video, taking in every detail that Ms. Lattimore pointed out as well as a few others that he was able to note. A frown appeared on the Blooden's face as she pointed out the large anomaly of the whole situation, a silhouette of a figure. But from the quality and distance of the captured point of view, it was difficult to tell if they were dealing with a human or demon. Although the magnitude of the magic conjured was leaning Bancroft's opinion more towards the latter option.
Ms. Lattimore had clearly lined out their current plan of action and quickly dismissed the members to have them assemble their positions. Bancroft sat there for a minute longer thinking through what role he was going to take in this grand scheme, oblivious to all other bantering and mingling occurring around him. But soon he was almost sure he heard his name once more. The Blooden stood up and looked over to the guildmaster, who was currently talking to McKinley. Not entirely sure if he heard correctly, Bancroft decided to wait to see if McKinley would approach him with information before he assumed his position.
Once the guildmaster had answered all initial questions, she addressed the assembly of members over to the communication devices that they were to use for the mission. Bancroft walked over to the edge of members who were already retrieving the devices. He waited till a few of the members in front of him had taken theirs before he reached down to grab his. Quickly the Blooden wore the earpiece in place before he lost the device.
The One Called X
Angstmaster
Angelica Hudson
The plan seemed simple enough now, while Ms. Lattimore was laying it out. It was bound to get complicated once they moved in, if every book and movie ever written had taught Angelica anything. She frowned as she pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, restraining the mass of brown curls with a scrunchie from her wrist. She was grateful, truth be told, that she looked human- or at least, mostly human, aside from the eyes- on the ride over. She was pretty sure most everyone in the van had known what she was, but it was... easier, when she looked more human. Like belonging, almost. She'd slunk to the back of the tent upon entering, climbing up on a relatively unoccupied table and enjoying the lack of visibility. It got... lonely, sometimes, in a weird way, when too many people noticed you when you weren't purposefully trying to be noticed.
Still. It was unsettling, being here. She could feel it in the air, the oppressive sense of leftover energy. Something bad had happened here, something evil. She was sure the others weren't exactly jumping for joy- the thought of all those people, missing, maybe dead, was a sobering one- but she knew they couldn't feel it, not like she could. It made her teeth itch, gave her goosebumps. She was glad, for once, of the bulletproof vest that had been pressed on her. She tugged at the sleeves of her leather jacket, rolled her shoulders. She felt a brief pang of worry. It was such a nice jacket, real leather, with shiny silver buttons and studs on the shoulders. Not only that- she was wearing one of her nicer pairs of jeans, black, made her legs look miles long. And her boots, her boots had been so expensive, and they fit perfectly and they were waterproof, and she'd bought it all herself, and what if any of it got ruined-
She took a sharp breath. It would be okay. She could afford to replace things now. And besides- it was sort of awful, wasn't it, to worry about clothes when so many civilians were in danger. It just hardly seemed real- that many people, vanishing in an instant. It seemed like nothing could-
No. Things could be that powerful. Should was another matter. Angelica swallowed hard at the memory of that indistinct figure in the video. This was her first real, big-deal assignment. She hadn't been on the bank job. Until now it had all been investigating minor incidents of infernal magic and suspects that were eager to surrender after a bit of flashy pyrotechnics. This was the first time she'd be doing anything important, and she was going up agains that.
She was nervous. God, she was so nervous. And yet. Was this what people felt like when they looked at Everest? The urge to test oneself, to take on something impossible and conquer it, while your brain tells you it's impossible but your gut insists that you can do it? Part of her wanted to rush in and light the place up, show them all what she could do- how strong she was, how much she could help them. But that would be stupid. She didn't know for sure she could take the perp head on, and it's not like it would change the way the humans saw her. She breathed out slow, reminding herself to listen.
A few people- veterans, kind of intimidating. Or, you know, they would be, if Angelica were the type to be intimidated. Which she was not. Still, she was having a bit of an off day, having a rougher time than usual speaking up. It was stupid, honestly. She shook herself. She needed to get it together. She was one of the strongest people here, and she was going to be an asset, goddamn it. She glanced down at her left hand, wiggled her fingers. A thin thread of crimson fire appeared, looping and twisting through her fingers. Her skin seemed to shimmer, then shift- brown into steel blue. She extinguished the flame, then flipped some hair over her shoulder- black as the void. Well. It had been nice while it lasted.
She balked a little once she got to Ms. Lattimore and took her earpiece. She turned it over in her hands, running her fingers over the buttons. It was stupid to feel so nervous about just asking a question. Ms. Lattimore was the one who'd insisted that she be given a job, a chance to learn to control her magic. Ms. Lattimore was the one who'd insisted that Angelica get her GED, and even though that was sort of bullshit it was also, in hindsight, kind of a good thing to have. Angelica trusted her. "Ma'am, if this is a rogue greater demon- I know why you wouldn't necessarily want me on subduing duty. But-" she exhaled sharply, then took a slow breath. "I don't want to think about it, really, but- when would we consider possibly lethal force to be necessary?"
Coin
The plan seemed simple enough now, while Ms. Lattimore was laying it out. It was bound to get complicated once they moved in, if every book and movie ever written had taught Angelica anything. She frowned as she pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, restraining the mass of brown curls with a scrunchie from her wrist. She was grateful, truth be told, that she looked human- or at least, mostly human, aside from the eyes- on the ride over. She was pretty sure most everyone in the van had known what she was, but it was... easier, when she looked more human. Like belonging, almost. She'd slunk to the back of the tent upon entering, climbing up on a relatively unoccupied table and enjoying the lack of visibility. It got... lonely, sometimes, in a weird way, when too many people noticed you when you weren't purposefully trying to be noticed.
Still. It was unsettling, being here. She could feel it in the air, the oppressive sense of leftover energy. Something bad had happened here, something evil. She was sure the others weren't exactly jumping for joy- the thought of all those people, missing, maybe dead, was a sobering one- but she knew they couldn't feel it, not like she could. It made her teeth itch, gave her goosebumps. She was glad, for once, of the bulletproof vest that had been pressed on her. She tugged at the sleeves of her leather jacket, rolled her shoulders. She felt a brief pang of worry. It was such a nice jacket, real leather, with shiny silver buttons and studs on the shoulders. Not only that- she was wearing one of her nicer pairs of jeans, black, made her legs look miles long. And her boots, her boots had been so expensive, and they fit perfectly and they were waterproof, and she'd bought it all herself, and what if any of it got ruined-
She took a sharp breath. It would be okay. She could afford to replace things now. And besides- it was sort of awful, wasn't it, to worry about clothes when so many civilians were in danger. It just hardly seemed real- that many people, vanishing in an instant. It seemed like nothing could-
No. Things could be that powerful. Should was another matter. Angelica swallowed hard at the memory of that indistinct figure in the video. This was her first real, big-deal assignment. She hadn't been on the bank job. Until now it had all been investigating minor incidents of infernal magic and suspects that were eager to surrender after a bit of flashy pyrotechnics. This was the first time she'd be doing anything important, and she was going up agains that.
She was nervous. God, she was so nervous. And yet. Was this what people felt like when they looked at Everest? The urge to test oneself, to take on something impossible and conquer it, while your brain tells you it's impossible but your gut insists that you can do it? Part of her wanted to rush in and light the place up, show them all what she could do- how strong she was, how much she could help them. But that would be stupid. She didn't know for sure she could take the perp head on, and it's not like it would change the way the humans saw her. She breathed out slow, reminding herself to listen.
A few people- veterans, kind of intimidating. Or, you know, they would be, if Angelica were the type to be intimidated. Which she was not. Still, she was having a bit of an off day, having a rougher time than usual speaking up. It was stupid, honestly. She shook herself. She needed to get it together. She was one of the strongest people here, and she was going to be an asset, goddamn it. She glanced down at her left hand, wiggled her fingers. A thin thread of crimson fire appeared, looping and twisting through her fingers. Her skin seemed to shimmer, then shift- brown into steel blue. She extinguished the flame, then flipped some hair over her shoulder- black as the void. Well. It had been nice while it lasted.
She balked a little once she got to Ms. Lattimore and took her earpiece. She turned it over in her hands, running her fingers over the buttons. It was stupid to feel so nervous about just asking a question. Ms. Lattimore was the one who'd insisted that she be given a job, a chance to learn to control her magic. Ms. Lattimore was the one who'd insisted that Angelica get her GED, and even though that was sort of bullshit it was also, in hindsight, kind of a good thing to have. Angelica trusted her. "Ma'am, if this is a rogue greater demon- I know why you wouldn't necessarily want me on subduing duty. But-" she exhaled sharply, then took a slow breath. "I don't want to think about it, really, but- when would we consider possibly lethal force to be necessary?"
Coin
Roleplay Skittle
Eternally Awkward
Irma Grace Beauregard
While her faith gave her strength, Irma felt it could be seen as a weakness. This idea had lead her to put her rosary away once the van had reached its destination. What hunter would trust in an Ouro that felt the need to systematically roll prayer beads over in their fingers as a form of comfort? So regardless of the relief that it brought her, she wouldn't allow herself to misplace the trust of the others and cause them to not have the faith that she would be able to watch their backs regardless of her own shortcomings. So to alleviate her anxiety brought on by the forces of nature, she was sure to be extra attentive.
One could think that under the circumstances there wouldn't be any chatter among the hunters gathered under the canopy, the dire circumstances could be more cause for silence rather than discussion. Perhaps it was just nerves, or planning for what was to come that caused the various individuals to engage each other while they awaited direction. Irma on the other hand remained silent, though observing the others was a welcome distraction and she was definitely grateful for the shelter they had come to meet under, the rain drops felt felt like acid even through her clothing - each one a pinprick of memory.
Once Ms. Lattimore called everyone to order and directed their attention to the projector screen where the video she had been watching played, it wasn't a very difficult task for Irma to pull her eyes away from her fellows and focus on the task at hand. Of course watching the video play and being attentive as she was, it was still difficult for her not to flinch and squint her eyes shut for a moment as the glass in the video broke and while her heart rate picked up and she unconsciously reached for the pocket of her vest with her rosary, the fact that there was no sound was a god send that she was grateful for and with little struggle she was able to calm herself once more despite the circumstances.
Perhaps it wasn't entirely by intention, but as the video was paused, Irma self consciously cleared her throat, albeit softly. A gentle crease formed between her brows as they furrowed slightly, her eyes squinting a bit as she examined the figure that was being pointed out. From there she followed along with the plan without any questions or comments, though she intently listened when others interjected with ideas of their own or otherwise questioned or added to what was already decided.
While her attention was steadily on the details of what they were all about to get themselves into, it was momentarily diverted when her jacket was lightly tugged, causing her to jump slightly. Seeing that the person that had tugged on her sleeve was a familiar individual, she mustered a slight smile and gave a little nod of her head before her gaze drifted back towards those that seemed to be much more instrumental in determining their exact tactics than she was herself. Once the briefing was over, there wasn't much for her to do since she had already prepared, though she did give her equipment a once over, making sure everything was secure even though she had already done this prior to even leaving the headquarters.
When the guildmaster brought out the earpieces that everyone was to wear, she waited patiently until there was a moment when she could easily collect one for herself as well as one for Maggie given the tense atmosphere. She knew that these people were professionals and likely wouldn't hassle the half-breed at such an inopportune time, but it didn't hurt to make a nice gesture. She held it out to Maggie once she had gotten back to her before she situated her own in her ear, actually grateful for the feel of it in some strange way.
While her faith gave her strength, Irma felt it could be seen as a weakness. This idea had lead her to put her rosary away once the van had reached its destination. What hunter would trust in an Ouro that felt the need to systematically roll prayer beads over in their fingers as a form of comfort? So regardless of the relief that it brought her, she wouldn't allow herself to misplace the trust of the others and cause them to not have the faith that she would be able to watch their backs regardless of her own shortcomings. So to alleviate her anxiety brought on by the forces of nature, she was sure to be extra attentive.
One could think that under the circumstances there wouldn't be any chatter among the hunters gathered under the canopy, the dire circumstances could be more cause for silence rather than discussion. Perhaps it was just nerves, or planning for what was to come that caused the various individuals to engage each other while they awaited direction. Irma on the other hand remained silent, though observing the others was a welcome distraction and she was definitely grateful for the shelter they had come to meet under, the rain drops felt felt like acid even through her clothing - each one a pinprick of memory.
Once Ms. Lattimore called everyone to order and directed their attention to the projector screen where the video she had been watching played, it wasn't a very difficult task for Irma to pull her eyes away from her fellows and focus on the task at hand. Of course watching the video play and being attentive as she was, it was still difficult for her not to flinch and squint her eyes shut for a moment as the glass in the video broke and while her heart rate picked up and she unconsciously reached for the pocket of her vest with her rosary, the fact that there was no sound was a god send that she was grateful for and with little struggle she was able to calm herself once more despite the circumstances.
Perhaps it wasn't entirely by intention, but as the video was paused, Irma self consciously cleared her throat, albeit softly. A gentle crease formed between her brows as they furrowed slightly, her eyes squinting a bit as she examined the figure that was being pointed out. From there she followed along with the plan without any questions or comments, though she intently listened when others interjected with ideas of their own or otherwise questioned or added to what was already decided.
While her attention was steadily on the details of what they were all about to get themselves into, it was momentarily diverted when her jacket was lightly tugged, causing her to jump slightly. Seeing that the person that had tugged on her sleeve was a familiar individual, she mustered a slight smile and gave a little nod of her head before her gaze drifted back towards those that seemed to be much more instrumental in determining their exact tactics than she was herself. Once the briefing was over, there wasn't much for her to do since she had already prepared, though she did give her equipment a once over, making sure everything was secure even though she had already done this prior to even leaving the headquarters.
When the guildmaster brought out the earpieces that everyone was to wear, she waited patiently until there was a moment when she could easily collect one for herself as well as one for Maggie given the tense atmosphere. She knew that these people were professionals and likely wouldn't hassle the half-breed at such an inopportune time, but it didn't hurt to make a nice gesture. She held it out to Maggie once she had gotten back to her before she situated her own in her ear, actually grateful for the feel of it in some strange way.
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