Beyond Star City: IC Thread

Danny had leaned back after answering Shrieve's question and barely heard her response.

"Good. Good. We find a place to drop a burst like that, we stand a good chance at disrupting their whole operation."

"Unless they've got defenses against that sort of thing."

"Hrnh."

Of course then she had just driven on in silence and he was glad of that. He had been able to get a little distance between their bodies and just be alone with his thoughts.

Right head into battle. Kill or maim the bad guys, after all they would probably be demons so he was going to be able to cut loose for once and send them screaming back to hell. Deal with any collateral damage in the usual way and then go home. Easy.

Yeah right, when had a job ever been that easy. Something always came along that Bollocks the whole thing up.

As they entered the town of Sleepy hollow he felt the magic of the place seep into his bones. Oh yeah this was a place of power. Not a huge place like some he had been in, but still bigger than some.

Shrieve drove on then parked in front of a cemetery. Oh great. He could feel the power from here. This was a big no go from here. She must be pissing herself with laughter. In fact she must have been planning this from the start. He frowned then began to get angry.



"You comin', Duke?"

And then she smirked a wicked little smirk.

"Oh, that's right. Holy ground. Sucks to be you, huh?"

She jutted a thumb towards the heart of the graveyard.

"You want me to get you anything while I'm out?"

Oh that really pushed all his buttons. To think he had been sporting a hard on for the last 50 miles because of her. That quickly went away.

"Yeah, How about your ass on a platter. You have known about this all along Shrieve. A little warning would have been nice. Hell I am itchy all over just being this close. Just hurry up before your car isn't the only thing that goes missing tonight."

He grinned, knowing it was petty but she had been the one to start it.

John and Frankenstein sat in the cab a block down from the cemetary as Shrieve and Blue pulled up.

"Well fucking 'ell there goes the neighborhood eh Francis? We got Shrieve and a Duke of Hell gone choir boy. Fuck if this ent a bit bigger than we figured."

"You of all people should know John, not everything is black and white. What Blue does... he has been through as much as any of us. He made the same bad choices you once did. You just got lucky and found a loophole. As for Shrieve... yeah even I have a hard time defending her. She is a good soldier. Even if I don't like her methods." Frankenstein grins as he reaches over and palms the back of John's head, "Stop calling me Francis." He punctuates his point with a firm squeeze. For just a second, John's vision swims.

Frankenstein is still chuckling as he gets out of the cab and heads toward Blue still waiting outside the cemetary.

"Hey! Blue! Long time no see." Frank raises his hands clearly displaying he is approaching unarmed. The last thing he wants is a misunderstanding that levels a block or two.

Constantine slides out of the passenger side rubbing the back of his head and muttering as he lights a cigarette and begins his walk.

Danny looked up and noticed a big guy walking towards him with his hands up. He had yelled out his name, but really anyone could yell out Blue and expect him to answer. However there was something familiar about his voice and as he passed into the light of a nearby street lamp he saw the stitching on his face and a smile broke out on his face.

"Frank, long time no see. How have you been?"

He looked behind the big guy to see another shape getting out of a cab lighting a cigarette.

"I see John is still following you around like a bad smell. One of these days I am going to see you without your shadow and drop dead with shock",he chuckled.

He sat still astride the bike as they both approached him knowing that it was no coincidence that both of them were here. Obviously they had picked up on the same disturbance that he and Shrieve were tracking but he was not going to give anything away at this point.

"So not that I am not glad to see you again, but what brings you here at this time of night."

Superstition- Stevie Wonder

Frank Craft was driving through the night because a ghost had told him that he was needed in a place called New Carthage...

His jeep was packed with weapons and ammo his thermos with coffee and his mind with confusion. But when Sir Charles told him that it was of vital importance to the world that he be at a certain place and time, he'd come to trust that.

Charles came in dreams most of the time, but Frank had seen him take from from dust motes in sun light, in shadows and moonglow, in flashing fluorescents in a dark basement once...he had always been a guide. But that wasn't the only thing.

Cassandra had called just after 7pm. She said she had a dream about the end of the world and that if Frank didn't get to New Carthage soon, it was going to be too late.

Cassie had always had a strange connection to the occult, in ways that the rest of the Craft family never had. Though she'd never had prophetic dreams before, as far as he knew, he still trusted her word. So he loaded up the old jeep cherokee and hit the road, hoping that somehow he wasn't already too late.

Magic was all well and good, but sometimes an old fashioned ass kicking was called for.

Wearing Red to a Funeral. (Shrieve)

Aussie_Wolf said:

Oh that really pushed all his buttons. To think he had been sporting a hard on for the last 50 miles because of her. That quickly went away.

"Yeah, How about your ass on a platter. You have known about this all along Shrieve. A little warning would have been nice. Hell I am itchy all over just being this close. Just hurry up before your car isn't the only thing that goes missing tonight."

He grinned, knowing it was petty but she had been the one to start it.

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She squinted at him-- he had a point, damn him (well, damn him again). The longer they tarried here in Tarrytown, the more likely it was that a meter maid in Seattle would have her gorgeous ride towed. And she liked, damn her, that he gave as good as he got.

Still, why let him get the last word?

She turned and sauntered off among the headstones, down among the dead men, and smirked parting shot over her shoulder. "Ah, bitch bitch bitch. I should have gotten one of those biker shirts to wear when you ride with me. 'If you can read this, the bitch fell off.'"

Blissfully unaware that Constantine and Frankenstein had chosen to stop off here before also going to New Carthage, Shrieve approached a large crypt at the heart of the graveyard.

"SHRIEVE," it said, carved into the granite. And this wasn't a lie. This was one of the heavily-warded burial sites for the many casualties of The Family Shrieve, Hunters extraordinaire. Wouldn't do to leave the bones of their ancestors just lying around any old place, would it? Even after salting and burning and telling the Loa to keep their hands off, there were plenty of undead, amortal, and ever-living creatures bumping in the night that would love to take revenge on the spirits and remains of one of The Ancestral Order's most prolific clans.

Presenting a cold iron key, Shrieve unlocked the door to the crypt and stepped in to the room lined with urns, warding runes and glyphs carved into practically every surface. Moving to one of the side walls, she reached up and placed her palm against one of those glyphs, pushing it into the wall even as the glyph read her blood, read her aura.

A circular area at the center of the floor shuddered, kicked up stonedust, and then descended into a railingless, spiral staircase. Descending this with booted feet, Shrieve walked twelve feet down into the Earth, and found a climate-controlled weapons locker waiting for her.

A weapons locker with a black Dodge Charger parked in the center of it.

Briskly, efficiently, she loaded up the trunk with shotguns, sniper rifles, crossbows, handguns, machetes-- a stack of texts-- another scrying pendant-- she offloaded the demon detector, hopefully she could get that refinished--

--she didn't know what they were up against. That was the hardest thing. Picking a cross-section of weapons, artifacts, ammunition that would be most effective against the widest range of threats. If she left any options open, it could be the death of them.

Tossing a witchcraft "chemistry set" into the trunk with the rest, she slammed it, and moved to prep the vehicle just as she'd done the bike earlier. After that, it was just getting out of here.

Fortunately, she didn't have to go out the way she'd come-- there was a network of tunnels crisscrossing the underground of Sleepy Hollow, much of which dated to The American Revolution. You couldn't enter the weapons locker from the tunnels unless someone unlocked it from the inside with another one of those glyphs--

--which, palm against the wall next to a disguised bulkhead door, she activated.

The Charger rumbled out into the tunnels, headlights blaring through Sleepy Hollow's own personal Underdark-- emerging from a grated water treatment access point when the grating helpfully retracted like portcullis at her approach.

Circling 'round through the backstreets, she headed back towards where she'd left Blue. She didn't have long to get the Triumph parked back where the Charger had been before she'd have to retrigger the unlock from inside the crypt.

As she circled 'round, however, this time she spotted that parked yellow cab.

...and alarm bells jangled inside her brain.

"Oh. Fuck."

"Constantine."

Aussie_Wolf said:

Danny looked up and noticed a big guy walking towards him with his hands up. He had yelled out his name, but really anyone could yell out Blue and expect him to answer. However there was something familiar about his voice and as he passed into the light of a nearby street lamp he saw the stitching on his face and a smile broke out on his face.

"Frank, long time no see. How have you been?"

He looked behind the big guy to see another shape getting out of a cab lighting a cigarette.

"I see John is still following you around like a bad smell. One of these days I am going to see you without your shadow and drop dead with shock",he chuckled.

He sat still astride the bike as they both approached him knowing that it was no coincidence that both of them were here. Obviously they had picked up on the same disturbance that he and Shrieve were tracking but he was not going to give anything away at this point.

"So not that I am not glad to see you again, but what brings you here at this time of night."

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Frank nodded and laughed. A sound that to one unused to it may sound more like a roar. "Pretty sure we are here for the same reason. Unless of course you and Miss Personality there are just out fro a nice country drive and a little wine."

John stepped toward Blue. Sizing him up as he struggles for his lighter in the over stuffed pockets of his catch-all overcoat. "Unless of course you might be on the other side, playin' at 'elping out so you can keep us off the trail of one of yer demonic pimps?" John mutters around his cigarette, his eyes burrowing into Blue.

John new demons. He had many run ins. And he had even been one once. Well. Maybe more than once. On one level, John respected the power and the deal that Blue had struck. He knew how seductive the demons could be. And how if they couldn't tempt you, and they really wanted you, they would get you one way or another. However, that didn't mean he trusted him fully. Soul or not.

"Course, if this is what I think, those pussy ass bitches are prob'ly pissin' emselves. This new age that is coming... seems to be bringin' an awful lot more than just a lil' boost. Where's ya girlfriend mate? You usin' some of that old Incubus charm on her mate? Can't say I blame ya."

Danny knew John was a pain in the ass but what he had said was going too far. He got off the bike and strode over to the human, for really that was all the guy was. Oh he knew some tricks and could probably hurt him a lot, but in the end he could squash him like a bug. Still Frank liked him and Danny liked Frank so he would put up with him for now, but he wasn't going to let those comments slide.

"Listen John, If you think for a second I would help out anything from the underworld you are sadly mistaken. Those fuckers have taken enough from me and the only thing that gives me any pleasure at the moment is sending any of them I meet up here screaming back to hell. As for you I seem to recall you being a demon once. You sure your not being manipulated again. Maybe still got a bit of demon essence in you John," he grinned knowing it wasn't so or his trident would have reacted to him the moment he got close, but still it was fun winding the guy up. "You know how hard it is to get their hooks out of you once they find a way in."

Smiling he lifted a hand and extending a finger he allowed a small blue flame to appear at the tip. "You know smoking is bad for your health John but we both know why you do it don't we. It is amazing the rumors you can hear floating around in hell," He smiled again.

Turning to Frank he totally ignored John now. "Don't know how you found out about this Frank but back in New York there is one hell of a collection circle. Shrieve and I stumbled upon it when I went looking for a familar and she was doing god knows what. It is bad, real bad. This thing is made up of all the major players of hell, Fae and Shrieve identified Dragon and some other race I had never heard of, but she insists is old and powerful and I am not doubting her. From what I was able to decipher the thing is one big soul trap linked to several smaller ones all around the place. We are on our way to the closest one which I guess you are too."

He grimaced. If it was just Frank he would have no trouble asking what he wanted, but with John along...Dammit it still needed to be done. "Look Frank we are really going to need all the help we can get. It makes sense for us to team up but John and Shrieve are going to be a problem. I will try and convince her, you try and leash him, Deal?"

Aussie_Wolf said:

Danny knew John was a pain in the ass but what he had said was going too far. He got off the bike and strode over to the human, for really that was all the guy was. Oh he knew some tricks and could probably hurt him a lot, but in the end he could squash him like a bug. Still Frank liked him and Danny liked Frank so he would put up with him for now, but he wasn't going to let those comments slide.

"Listen John, If you think for a second I would help out anything from the underworld you are sadly mistaken. Those fuckers have taken enough from me and the only thing that gives me any pleasure at the moment is sending any of them I meet up here screaming back to hell. As for you I seem to recall you being a demon once. You sure your not being manipulated again. Maybe still got a bit of demon essence in you John," he grinned knowing it wasn't so or his trident would have reacted to him the moment he got close, but still it was fun winding the guy up. "You know how hard it is to get their hooks out of you once they find a way in."

Smiling he lifted a hand and extending a finger he allowed a small blue flame to appear at the tip. "You know smoking is bad for your health John but we both know why you do it don't we. It is amazing the rumors you can hear floating around in hell," He smiled again.

Turning to Frank he totally ignored John now. "Don't know how you found out about this Frank but back in New York there is one hell of a collection circle. Shrieve and I stumbled upon it when I went looking for a familar and she was doing god knows what. It is bad, real bad. This thing is made up of all the major players of hell, Fae and Shrieve identified Dragon and some other race I had never heard of, but she insists is old and powerful and I am not doubting her. From what I was able to decipher the thing is one big soul trap linked to several smaller ones all around the place. We are on our way to the closest one which I guess you are too."

He grimaced. If it was just Frank he would have no trouble asking what he wanted, but with John along...Dammit it still needed to be done. "Look Frank we are really going to need all the help we can get. It makes sense for us to team up but John and Shrieve are going to be a problem. I will try and convince her, you try and leash him, Deal?"

Click to expand...

John simply stood and grinned. He knew he was lighting a fire. But it was one he wanted raging right now. Blue and him were a lot alike. More than either might openly admit. John wanted Blue on edge. Ready to strike first and ask later. John knew if he was right about what this might be, it would be a bad night all around. Probably several of them.

Frankenstein was torn. He knew John had thrown a low blow. But he was still protective of his best friend. He heard Blue out though and knew he had the right motives, and that he could be a huge asset.

"John. Play NICE. Blue, I mean no disrespect, but trust me, John is one of the truest friends anyone could ask for. He may be good at hiding it below an aura of ass and crass, but he is a good man. I was there when he took on Heaven and Hell. I was killed there. John literally took on Heaven to bring me back. I trust him with a whole lot more than my life. He hasn't filled me in on what he has in mind yet, but he didn't talk the whole way. That means one thing. Bad news. Last time I saw him like that we were dealing with The Rising Darkness. Which I might remind you, even the top brass Below wouldn't take on. He did. So lets all be a bunch of little Fonzies. Both of you put your magical cocks away before I chop them both off." Frank grinned as he spoke. A sight that was more disconcerting to most than it was reassuring. But those that knew him found it oddly settling.

John didn't wait for Blue to answer. Instead he nodded. "Thank you for the kind words mate. Listen, Blue, truce. No more cheap shots. Unless it's cheap scotch." John leaned forward lighting his smoke off the offered flame. "Much appreciated. By the way, don't believe all the rumors you hear. I started most of 'em for shits and giggles."

Danny nodded at Franks words.He knew the story behind Frank's resurrection and the part John had played in it. He also knew what John had ripped Frank away from, and wondered how the man could still remain loyal to the guy after that.

"Ok Frank, for you I will forgo the usual banter and listen to the bloke. However he better tell it straight without his usual half truths and you don't need to know that's or I am out and you two can go it alone. Frankly I am sick of the way he operates sometimes. I swear he makes it up as he goes along, flying by the seat of his pants and expecting the rest of his team to pull him out of any tight spots he gets himself into."

Danny looked at John and grinned. "No offense meant mate, I know you know a lot of tricks and can take on things that scare the shit out of a lot of beings, I am just saying you hate to share and that pisses me off and can get people dead, especially in this case. I have felt what we are up against and if you have too then you know what I am talking about. This thing can easily chew you or me up and spit out our bones without breaking a sweat. We need each other so share with the class, allright Boyo."

The group would hear a rattling, whirring noise, like a an engine in bad repair, a radiator about to blow steam, as an old Jeep Cherokee pulled up, shaking and idling rather heavily, sounding like a diesel engine. The vehicle was turned off, steam rising in a cloud from beneath the hood, the superheated metal ticking and popping.

Opening the drivers side door, Franklin Craft got out and looked at the group of people who already stood there, silent, evaluating. He takes a half smoked cigar from his inner trench coat pocket and sticks it in his mouth, using his silver zippo to light it.

"Somebody order a truck full of asskicking?"

Walk on Through a Red Parade and Refuse to Make Amends. (Shrieve)

In contrast with the Cherokee, Shrieve's Dodge Charger was finely tuned, like it had just rolled off of the lot despite spending so much time in storage, a vintage muscle car at the top of its game.

And when Shrieve rolled up to where she'd parked the Triumph moments before, she got out with a grimace.

She didn't even look at Constantine or the abomination walking around in a steampunk cadaver jigsaw-puzzle. Didn't even look at Blue Devil.

Like, Ugh, I do not have time for your crap right now sort of not looking at them.

She just glowered at the male Hunter.

"There's a fine line between a truckload of ass-kick, Craft," she growled, "and junk in the trunk. And I think you crossed that line a few state borders back."

The White Parade. (Revenant)

Father Time's voice was a rumble like tectonic plates having an argument. "Agent Revenant. If you're quite finished? I didn't swing you back to your apartment for your phone and a fresh change of clothes so you could take-- do people still call them selfies?"

Liv glanced up at him from her phone, clad in said fresh clothes, wearing a backpack full of gear, and packing her favorite gun.

"I'm trying to call my friend Leon, he was supposed to be in Gotham today, but I can't get through. I know there's a lot of towers down, but normally I can reach his carphone through... anything."

Time squared massive shoulders. "Must be The Network." He gestured impatiently. "Tell you what, Dr. Moore. You get your ass on Constantine's case, I'll personally bilocate over to Jersey and check on your friend. If that'll get your mind on the job."

Liv nodded tightly, adjusted the strap on her backpack. "Okay. That's more than fair. Thank you, Father."

Time garrumphed, and put his hand on Liv's shoulder. "You sure you don't want to re-up with a new brain before you go? We've got this fantastic Japanese exorcist on ice--"

Liv shook her head. "Thank you for the offer, Father, but I'd rather keep this danger-sense fresh, if that's all right with you? I always keep my, uh, digested talents even after I eat a new brain, but they're less instinctive, less potent, I have to work harder to use them-- or train them up to keep them prepped. And I feel like this survival instinct of Palermo's is gonna be my best bet right now."

"Suit yourself," Time shrugged.

And then the world irised around them--

--Palermo's aforementioned survival instinct screamed in her brain and in an elongated, vortexed instant Liv screamed in garbled slow motion-- "FAAAAAATHER WAAAAAAIIIIIT..."

--but then they snapped back into realspace, somewhere else, in an alley, not where they planned to be, and Father Time was, agonized, curled up into a ball at Liv's feet and hugging himself as though trying to keep his heart in his chest.

"AAAhAhhh! DAMMIT! Hrrrrrrahhhh..."

Liv dropped to her knees beside him, instantly assessing him for first aid... some instincts never went dull, and all her shifts in the ER back in Seattle came rushing back-- "Father! I can give you hands-only CPR--!"

Time rolled onto his back, shook his head, coughed up blood. "Shut up, no time. No good. No good. I hit a barrier-- someone saw me coming, prepared for me, erected a ward attuned to my spacetime shift. I haven't seen anything like it since The Old West... I'm dying. I have to reincorporate my selves so I can regenerate-- you're on your own. Dropped us as close to New Carthage as I could, you'll have to get there the old-fashioned way--"

He patted his pockets, came out with a business card, shoved this into Liv's hand.

"If you need-- transportation-- call this man. Farrell."

Liv nodded, searched his face worriedly, wondered what he'd look like when she saw him again. "Good luck, Father."

He smiled tightly, bitterly. "Yeah. Always a crapshoot with this shit. I don't end up as a little girl again, I'll count myself lucky, no-one ever takes my orders seriously when I'm a little girl--"

--and then he popped out of existence, reunifying with his other body back at The S.H.A.D.E. Legendarium.

Liv took a breath. Steadied herself. Rose to her feet.

Cued up the GPS on her phone.

'Sleepy Hollow,' she considered. Not far, but still a haul on foot.

She glanced down at the business card-- squinted. Weird. Why would Time give me a travel agency in Dublin? He must not have been thinking straight.

Still, she dialed the number anyway--

"Farrell Travel," a woman's voice responded, she sounded a little bored but at least she tried to be professional.

"Uh, hey," Liv frowned. "I was told to call this number-- I need transportation from Sleepy Hollow, New York, to New Carthage--"

"Hold on," the woman mused, "let me look up and see who we have in the area." A quick pause, just long enough for Liv to wonder what exactly she was in for, here-- "Yes. We have a taxicab in your area, a Yellow Crown. They should get you where you're going."

Yellow Crown? Why does that sound familiar?

"Okay, but--" Liv hesitated--

"Thank you for calling Farrell Travel," the woman cut her off wearily, and hung up.

Liv scowled, pocketed her phone, and walked out of the alley, glancing down the street.

"Well, at least they have a few Starbucks here," she muttered. "Not as good as Radu's, but I won't go full-on zombie mode for lack of coffee."

And then she saw it in front of her.

A checkered cab, with the Yellow Crown logo on the door.

And with a groan, she remembered where she knew that cab company from.

Constantine.

Guess I made it where I needed to go, after all.

...on the bright side, Frank's here, I haven't seen Frank in ages...

But then she turned to look the other way, up the street, and she saw Miranda Shrieve getting out of a car to talk to a gathering of others--

--Miranda Shrieve, who'd tried to kill her in Seattle this morning before she'd finished her breakfast--

--Liv Moore had to resist the urge to go for her gun and try and arrest the huntress on S.H.A.D.E. authority.

Had to resist hard.

As it was, she hurried to join the group.

Danny took one look at Shrieve as she got out of one of the sweetest looking rides he had ever seen and knew something was up. There was just that look in her eyes, the cold dead eyed stare of a professional who had seen her prey and was ready to kill it at a seconds notice. Danny was used to seeing that look but not on too many humans. Demon dogs and Hunters had that same look when they were sent out after prey and Danny had grown mighty sick of seeing it.

Now as she stepped forward he knew it was not aimed at him, and he was pretty sure it was not aimed at Frank. He subtly put himself in front of Constantine but to his suprise she ignored him to and went straight after the new guy.

"There's a fine line between a truckload of ass-kick, Craft," she growled, "and junk in the trunk. And I think you crossed that line a few state borders back."

It was said with a glower and venom. Danny knew that Shrieve did not like this guy at all. Why was another story. He looked pretty ordinary to him but then so did John and look at what he was. This guy was probably someone like him and if Shrieve was so pissed off at him he was going to assume there was some major bad blood there.

He was going to place himself between the two, probably a suicidal move when he felt it. Something had just set off a demonic force somewhere close by. His head came up and he swiveled in a circle, looking for the source. It hadn't felt right for a summoning, or anything malicious, but it had been powerful so he was not going to take chances.

His hand was creeping towards his trident when he saw her. A very pale women walking up the street straight towards them. Okay this was suspicious. One, what was a woman doing out all alone near a cemetery approaching a group of strangers. Two, who the hell would approach a group like theirs in the first place.

"Enough squabbling people we have company. Don't know if she is friend or foe but hey she is walking towards us so that says something about her."

ChasNicollette said:

In contrast with the Cherokee, Shrieve's Dodge Charger was finely tuned, like it had just rolled off of the lot despite spending so much time in storage, a vintage muscle car at the top of its game.

And when Shrieve rolled up to where she'd parked the Triumph moments before, she got out with a grimace.

She didn't even look at Constantine or the abomination walking around in a steampunk cadaver jigsaw-puzzle. Didn't even look at Blue Devil.

Like, Ugh, I do not have time for your crap right now sort of not looking at them.

She just glowered at the male Hunter.

"There's a fine line between a truckload of ass-kick, Craft," she growled, "and junk in the trunk. And I think you crossed that line a few state borders back."

Click to expand...

Craft smirked at the biker bitch in her leather, trying so hard to be tough, while scared as hell of all that was hidden in the dark, especially that which hid inside her own darkness. He put all of this in his gaze as he looked her right in the eye, and smiled softly, gently, forgivingly.

Constantine grinned a bit as he looked around and saw Liv approaching.

"It's fine. She's one of ours. An old partner of dear Saint Francis."

John shrugged as he stubbed out the cigarette and waved.

"Liv?" Frankenstein all but roared. Clearly he was happy to see her. If his skin were still able to blush...

John didn't need such a cue. He knew Frankenstein better than most. Hell maybe better than any. He saw the change in his eyes. And he couldn't help but stifle a chuckle as he spoke. "Agent Revenant ent'it? I heard you was one of the folks that worked with Frankie here during his time at S.H.A.D.E. and I heard some good things." John looked around at the gathered people. There was some definite power among those gathered here. And they would need it. John wasn't quite sure what they were up against yet, but he knew they would be in for a whole lot. "Listen, we might want to get somewhere we can talk."

Welcome to The Black Parade. (Shrieve/Revenant/Black Alice)

Nevyn_Black said:

Craft smirked at the biker bitch in her leather, trying so hard to be tough, while scared as hell of all that was hidden in the dark, especially that which hid inside her own darkness. He put all of this in his gaze as he looked her right in the eye, and smiled softly, gently, forgivingly.

Click to expand...

In the distance, Blue was shouting something inane, something foolish--

--Constantine replied saying something unintelligbly Liverpudlian, like the guy voicing Ringo in "Yellow Submarine"--

--Shrieve didn't care, all she could see was that Roma Downey look on Craft's face and all she wanted to do was punch that smile down his throat.

She had been cruising through this op on the good graces of the fact that Blue Devil didn't know that a) she had been excommunicated from The Ancestral Order of Hunters or b) that she had been fired from S.H.A.D.E.

And now here in front of her was the aggravatingly all-knowing Frank Craft. Except for his Odd Thomas eyes, he didn't have any more super powers than she did-- except for his unconscious ability to manipulate synchronicity. Constantine played synchronicity like Stevie Ray Vaughn in a guitar shop. Craft played it like a young Mozart-- like he didn't have any idea what he was doing, but he still did it brilliantly.

But forget tugging the strings of the universe, Constantine and Craft both sat like spiders at the hearts of webs of information-- except Craft's was way more up-to-date about the movings and shakings in The Ancestral Order.

One wrong move here, one wrong play, and things could get awfully dramatic awfully quickly. Not only might Blue refuse to help her get her car back, he might take umbrage at the deception and then she'd have to kill him-- and she didn't feel like having to do that while having to fend off the likes of Frankenstein, The Hellblazer, and The Chicago Guardian.

She opened her mouth to spit more venom at Craft, to try and put him on his back foot, keep him from blowing her cover.

But then--

Lunaramblings said:

"Liv?" Frankenstein all but roared. Clearly he was happy to see her. If his skin were still able to blush...

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She didn't have much color in her cheeks these days herself, but Liv Moore had a grin like the moon catching sight of the sun and she threw her arms around the massive hulk of a fellow, thudding her forehead against his chest. "Oh, Frank. Hey, you."

Her BPMs might even have increased at the sight of him, but not so much that she was worried about full-on zombie mode. The nice kind of heartrate uptick.

It was a nice distraction, however momentary, from the monstrous Shrieve.

Lunaramblings said:

"Agent Revenant ent'it? I heard you was one of the folks that worked with Frankie here during his time at S.H.A.D.E. and I heard some good things."

Click to expand...

"Yeah?" Liv frowned at him after reluctantly withdrawing from the hug with Frank. "Well, as it happens I've heard some things about you, too. And I wouldn't call them them glowing character references."

"Not to mention the company you're keeping," she glared at Shrieve, then glanced around at the others. "Well, three out of four ain't bad. Frankenstein's as good a guy as they come, Blue Devil-- my friend Ravi would kill me dead for real if I didn't get your autograph-- and Frank Craft-- I caught wind of your Windy City reputation as far West as The Emerald City, good to meet you." Back to Shrieve. "But her."

"Blow it out your medulla, paleface," Shrieve snapped. Oh, she was brittle as a twig right now. Oh, of all the goddamn people, all the goddamn places. Caught between the rockiest rock and the hardest hard place.

The guy who knew she was out of The Ancestral Order. And the very Agent of S.H.A.D.E. she'd tried to kill this morning, who knew that Shrieve and S.H.A.D.E. had parted company decidedly acrimoniously. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Lunaramblings said:

John looked around at the gathered people. There was some definite power among those gathered here. And they would need it. John wasn't quite sure what they were up against yet, but he knew they would be in for a whole lot. "Listen, we might want to get somewhere we can talk."

Click to expand...

"Yeah," Liv met Shrieve's gaze unwavering. "We should compare notes. All the notes."

Shrieve gritted her teeth. She had a way out of this. A way that none of them would suspect until she was long gone. Let these idiots deal with New Carthage if they were going to be such assholes. She might as well start driving West.

"Fine. Let me just get my bike squared away. Then we can compare all the notes you like."

But then the little kawaii zombie's eyes went wide and she looked suddenly up at the sky like she had Chicken Little Syndrome and bellowed-- "Heads up!"

--and a little Gothy Asian girl fell out of the sky screaming obscenities and crashlanded, of all places, square on the Triumph-- blowing it to pieces in a ball of flame that was instantly snuffed out before it could burn anyone by a flashbulb of magic from the crashlanded girl.

shhhhhCLICK!

When the flare of saffron-gold light cleared, the girl was on her hands and knees looking-- scared out of her mind and twice as pissed off-- still Gothy, dressed differently, now white instead of Asian.

"Okay," she mumbled as she trembled, staring at the ground between her hands, as though unable to believe she was alive and unable to believe she had to go through what had just about almost killed her, "this is why I hate the suburbs."

Whatever that meant.

Danny had sensed the shitstorm that was about to go down. Whatever Shrieves problem was it had been aggravated by the arrival of the guy called Craft and then went into overdrive when the pale woman named Liv walked up. Why though was the million dollar question. Oh he could understand the Craft guy. Their was something about the guy that was getting on his nerves as well. However Liv seemed to be okay. Hell if Franky liked her she must be good people. Frank didn't genuinely like too many people. Then he got a clue why when John called out, "Agent Revenant ent'it? I heard you was one of the folks that worked with Frankie here during his time at S.H.A.D.E. and I heard some good things."

Ahh so she had worked in S.H.A.D.E. then. Probably after his time for he had never worked with her. Still he looked carefully at her wondering what her malfunction was. Besides being pretty pale there wasn't much to go on, then what John had called her clicked in. Revenant huh. Undead. Hell, pale skin but out during the day. Zombie. He had never heard of one with higher brain functions still intact. This was pretty cool. If not for the fact that she was staring at Shrieve like she wanted to eat her brains and rip her body in two.

Damn he was going to have to get between these two wasn't he. Not something he really wanted to do, but he had been the one to come with Shrieve so he should at least find out what was going on and protect her until he did.

"Okay Ladies let's turn the hostility down to 3 if we can," he began stepping forwards and putting himself between their eyeline, " If we can just concen..."

That was as far as he got when he felt the earth shake behind him and a large explosion. By the time he looked around he saw a white girl on her knees, dressed as a goth chick in the middle of a pile of bits and pieces of motor cycle parts. He quickly stared at Shrieve and even as the girl mumbled something about hating the Suburbs he was getting ready to run after and restrain Shrieve if she tried to get revenge for her bike.

"Red, White, and Black," by Thea Gilmore. (Shrieve/Revenant/Black Alice)

Blue Devil tried to play peacemaker.

But hadn't he read The Book of Matthew? Peacemakers were blessed, not damned. There was too much bad blood between Miranda and Moore, and his efforts were too little, too late.

And then then came the cry for heads to be up, then came the meteor that made mincemeat out of her motor--

--Shrieve didn't have Craft's eyes, didn't have the power to see that this new girl in the tattered Gothy attire had been glowing with enough magic to power a city block for a week but three seconds after she touched down it had all been gone like it was never there, sixty to zero--

--all she could see was that Triumph, a family heirloom and a cherished resource, a beautiful machine, it was gone--

"You little witch bitch!" she roared, and she lunged, drawing her Kurdish demon-killing knife as she went--

--Blue Devil's arm was around her waist again, again, again, always putting his hands on her, God damn him--

--she couldn't get a killing angle, tried to slash his cheek, his forearm, tried to get him to let her go--

--Liv drew her gun like she'd eaten Clint Eastwood's brain, it came out of her coat and glinted in the daylight-- The Good, The Bad, & The Zombie--

"Stand down, Shrieve, stand down!"

Lori shot to her feet, eyes wide, knees bloody, she saw-- she saw--

--a horned guy all sky blue, a hulking fella with bolts in his neck straight out of a bad adaptation of her beloved Mary Shelley, two guys in coats, some albino chick with a gun--

--the explosion from her crash-landing had gotten someone's attention, there were sirens in the distance, the Sheriff was coming--

--and the blue guy was holding back a woman in a red turtleneck with a knife who looked like-- who looked like she was legit trying to kill Lori--

It was too much.

Too much to take in, too soon after running out of power a few miles short of her destination, too soon after barely holding onto that power long enough to not die as street pizza in this cliche Washington Irving town--

--too fucking scary--

She held up her scraped palms and snarled, a vein quivering in her neck: "Leave. Me. ALONE!"

And even though she had never successfully reached for another power so soon after losing one, fight or flight kicked in, anger and frustration and fright at deadly danger--

shhhhhCLICK!

Craft had been holding his zap stick for a while now, hand in his trench coat pocket, wrapped around the insulated handle, other hand holding the cigar to his mouth, ready to toss it into somebody's face as a distraction.

All the damned yelling and shouting, seething emotions dialed up to a hundred and ten, was just exhausting. Did everything with this girl have to be so fucking dramatic?

When the Goth girl fell from the sky, Craft had instinctively tucked and rolled behind his Jeep. Now, he stood up and dusted himself off, spitting out the crushed cigar and stared at Shrieve as she actually tried to knife the new girl. That was just too much.

The big blue demonic guy was holding her back, which spoke to his character and intelligence. For a long moment, Craft thought about holding back and just letting whatever happened, happen. But, really, the noise was rediculous.

He held the tines to the steel bumper of his jeep and squeezed the trigger, sinding fifty thousand volts through the steel frame of his vehicle, making enough of a loud sound to get everyone's attention, hopefully.

It was lucky Danny had been ready and prepared to go after Shrieve. He saw her eyes focus on the Goth chick and go that crazed, focused way that he was coming to know as her hunting stare. He was already moving before she had even taken a step and reached into her coat. It was lucky he did as she was damn fast and closer to her than he was. She came out holding a knife that was sending out some very bad vibes and he barely got a hold of her before she was shouting.

"You little witch bitch!"

He understood her anger. After all that had been one hell of a sweet motorcycle, but still going after the kid with a magical knife was a little much. Then she turned on him, and suddenly he was fighting for his life sort of as he fended away her attacks on his face and arm. Luckily he had her pinned really well or he may have been in trouble, but the simple truth was she was human and he was not. Strength counted in this battle and she was bringing a knife to a tank battle.

Then it got really complicated. Miss Zombie decided to step in and drew a gun out of her coat and pointed it straight at Shrieve and incidentally straight at him. If it was normal it wouldn't hurt him, but she was S.H.A.D.E. Who knew what that thing was loaded with.


"Stand down, Shrieve, stand down!"

God why was everyone yelling so much, couldn't they see he had her under control. Then he heard movement from the girl he had rescued from Shrieves attack and turned back to see her looking around with scared wide eyes. Oh great she didn't even know exactly what was going on. Danny opened his mouth and then she screamed,

"Leave. Me. ALONE!"

Danny felt something click into place. He didn't know what but it left him with a cold feeling. Even as a tingle of electricity and a loud crackling noise went off behind him he didn't take his eyes off the girl. Something was happening to her and he didn't know if it was good or bad. He gave Shrieve a gentle flick in the side of the head and whispered in her ear.

"Oy stop it. I think we are going to have bigger fish to fry in a second. Stop struggling and get ready."

He put her down gently on her feet and waited for her to stop struggling.

"Red, White, and Black," by OFF! (Shrieve/Revenant/Black Alice)

shhhhhCLICK!

If Frank Craft were to look at Lori Zechlin right now, he might see that-- just as her magic power had utterly dispersed from her right after she landed, all of a sudden magic was rushing back into her-- zero to sixty.

One could hardly blame him for being busy, but it might prove an interesting sight.

And the magic came from an interesting person indeed, not that Lori got their Wiki entry in with the optional extras.

As usual, Lori resisted the odd compulsion to shout out their name--

NOMMO BALEWA, DOCTOR MIST!

Ten years ago, he had been a simple but learned shaman, fighting demons with scarification tattoos and psychotropic substances-- but since The Rising Darkness and the coming of The Thirteenth Age of Magic, he had grown in power--

--he could cast illusions, teleport, his aging had reversed and then slowed--

--and he could absorb magic.

Lori's very pale skin darkened considerably, a tattoo formed over her third-eye chakra, and she displayed a cape and crackling green glyphic energies that surrounded her body.

Her palms were still pressed outward, and the green lighting crackled from her hands, too, as she began to draw off of the background magics of Sleepy Hollow-- and the most powerful magic source she could immediately detect--

--no less than Blue Devil himself.

Liv flinched when The Chicago Guardian jumped his own Jeep with a shock, but he was right to try and defuse the situation rather than attacking directly. She was a crack shot-- she'd eaten the brains of a hitman and a sniper and on top of that there was her S.H.A.D.E. training, but discharging a firearm into an uncertain situation was not a smart idea-- nor was threatening to do so. Liv had to trust that Blue's superior physical strength could keep Shrieve under control-- despite the fact that Shrieve had attempted to assassinate Liv only hours ago.

Shrieve, too, jerked her head around at the sudden whump of electrical joltage into the Cherokee, and it was then that Blue Gibbs!slapped her and told her to focus.

And then he-- trusted her--

--he put her down on her feet, and--

--and let her go--

--what the Hell was this Eagle Scout chivalry shit coming out of a demon, she could run him through right here and then move on to the witch, what the actual fuck--

--and then she looked at the girl.

And that gave her pause. What the Hell kind of mage was this girl?

She lowered the knife. Kept it ready, but not in a blind stabbing running sort of way.

"Right. Never a dull fucking moment."

Liv kept her gun pointed upward beside her own head, both hands steadying it, ready to aim and fire if she needed to but-- not actually aiming at anyone.

"Frankenstein!" she yelled. "What's our play?"

"Frankenstein!" she yelled. "What's our play?"

Frankenstein and Constantine had been standing in silence watching this all unfold. Frank knew about Shrieve. He knew she was potently dangerous, even a bit of a loose cannon. He wasn't sure who this new girl was, but he recognized the feeling of the aura that now surrounded her. He had seen similar magic in his time at SHADE. Homo Magi that specialized in leeching power from other people, places and things. ANd this felt a lot like Nommo's presence. He had helped a few times over the last few years when SHADE needed information. While Frankenstein didn't fully understand how it all worked, he knew that he needed to end this now.

With preternatural quickness he moved from the back of the pack. As he did he drew forth a very particular blade, and an equally interesting hand cannon.

He called upon the power of the blade as he leveled the gun at Shrieve and Blue.

"Shrieve! You know what these are. You know what I can do with them. Blue, I have no quarrel, but no harm comes to this girl. EVERY ONE STAND DOWN." As he spoke the blade of the sword began to shimmer. His command becoming empowered by the Angelic qualities of Michael's Sword.

Saint Michael was many things. A bringer of War. A Messenger of The Lord. A Demonslayer. But in all these things, he served one purpose above all. The protection of the innocent. And here, with Frankenstein holding the sword forged by the Will of the Creator, it lent great power to his words. No longer were they a suggestion from The Monster. They were a Holy Commandment from a full-fledged Messanger of God. It would take phenomenal will to ignore. And even then it would feel most unpleasant to try.

As Frankenstein keeps his eye on Shreive, he speaks to the scared girl behind him.

"Honey, listen, I ain't gonna hurt you. Neither is anyone else so long as I am standing. And believe me, if they all work together, they might be able to take me down, but there won't be enough of them left to hurt you. I promise. I won't fight if I can, but if I have to, it will get ugly. This guy here, this is John Constantine, one of the most powerful magicians of our age. When he feels like it. The pale lady with the gun, that's my friend Liv. Agent of SHADE. Blue there, he is a good man, if conflicted with his place. Shrieve.... well fine she's a bit of a bitch, but she has killed more threats to humanity than I can count. Her choice of targets just requires some oversight. And the gentlemen with the shock-stick, that's the Other Frank. Good guy. I promise. Now before every police officer in the town gets here can we PLEASE get off the streets and talk this out?"

Danny wasn't feeling all that good. He wasn't sure what was going on but just after he had put Shrieve down he had started to feel a little weak. he looked at the girl and knew that somehow she was involved. Once again her body had changed. Gone was the white goth girl and in her place was a very tanned girl with a tattoo in the middle of her forehead, a cape and magical green energies crackling all over her body.

What surprised him even more was the thin stream of energy linking him to her. He growled a little and swiped at it severing the link but he could already tell the damage had been done. He was about to examine himself when Frank suddenly cut in.

"Shrieve! You know what these are. You know what I can do with them. Blue, I have no quarrel, but no harm comes to this girl. EVERY ONE STAND DOWN."

Danny was not interested in harming the girl, hell at the moment he was not even interested in stopping Shrieve from killing everyone. All he cared about was finding out what had happened to him, but that command from Frank while backed up by that sword had him standing there like a damn puppet. Damn where had all his strength gone?

"The Red The White The Black The Blue," by Hope of The States.

(Shrieve/Revenant/Black Alice)

Lunaramblings said:

With preternatural quickness he moved from the back of the pack. As he did he drew forth a very particular blade, and an equally interesting hand cannon.

He called upon the power of the blade as he leveled the gun at Shrieve and Blue.

"Shrieve! You know what these are. You know what I can do with them. Blue, I have no quarrel, but no harm comes to this girl. EVERY ONE STAND DOWN." As he spoke the blade of the sword began to shimmer. His command becoming empowered by the Angelic qualities of Michael's Sword.

Click to expand...

Shrieve curled her lip. She had begun to cooperate, and now he was pointing that +4 Holy Pigsticker at her? If her family had ever managed to find one of the rumored Witch-Brands of the legendary lost Limbo Town, he'd see who was commanding who, and he'd be talking out of the other side of his prune-lipped mouth. (For that matter, Shrieve idly wondered if those sigils could have controlled other forms of undead-- like, say, zombies?)

"I'm standing," Shrieve grimaced aloud, keeping her thoughts to herself. "I'm down."

For her part, Liv lowered her gun, now, pointed it at the ground, and engaged the safety. She trusted Frank, trusted that he knew what he was doing-- and she trusted her skill to be able to re-engage in a blink if that's what was needed. "We're good, Frankenstein. Do your thing."

Lunaramblings said:

"Honey, listen, I ain't gonna hurt you. Neither is anyone else so long as I am standing. And believe me, if they all work together, they might be able to take me down, but there won't be enough of them left to hurt you. I promise. I won't fight if I can, but if I have to, it will get ugly. This guy here, this is John Constantine, one of the most powerful magicians of our age. When he feels like it. The pale lady with the gun, that's my friend Liv. Agent of SHADE. Blue there, he is a good man, if conflicted with his place. Shrieve.... well fine she's a bit of a bitch, but she has killed more threats to humanity than I can count. Her choice of targets just requires some oversight. And the gentlemen with the shock-stick, that's the Other Frank. Good guy. I promise. Now before every police officer in the town gets here can we PLEASE get off the streets and talk this out?"

Click to expand...

"Don't you 'Honey' me, Igor," Lori snarled, crackling with energy the color of Kryptonite. "And don't talk to me about power-- I can see power, I can smell it, strands of magic resonating like hyperstrings-- that scruff doesn't have a shred of power to his name that's not begged or borrowed or stolen-- but when I take power, I do it right--"

She could see the aura of Michael's Sword glowing like a sacred conflagration in her mind's wide-open eye, could feel its ability to command-- well, she was strong now, had a demon's strength, but if she could make them listen to her, make them back off, make them leave her in peace, let her do what she came here to do--

--she reached out and she harnessed that power, too, the power of the blade, drank of it deep, ready to bellow with The Voice of The Right Hand of God--

Except.

Except for all that she commanded the power of Nommo, Lori Zechlin had not a shred of his decades of experience. He would know, when absorbing angelic power and demonic power simultaneously, how to keep them bottled and separate within him, like matter and antimatter. He would know and have prepared the complex spells that would allow him to harness such forces in symphony rather than cacophony.

But Lori knew none of these things, and suddenly she found herself screaming in pain, hugging her darkened skin with both arms as it bubbled and boiled and crawled upon her flesh...

...she fell to her knees, then, and clawed at the ground, and with a lurching sobbing cry the power slipped through her fingers, Blue Devil's strength rushed back into him, the sword's might sheathed itself once more in the length of the blade, and Nommo's template dispersed back to him.

shhhhhCLICK!

And there she was again, just a girl, pale as a glampire diva, with even less magic to her name than even John Constantine.

Lori coughed, weakly.

"...okay, fine," she groaned. "Fine, I'll come with you. But one of you lays a finger on me, you know I can make you regret it."

Danny saw the glow of white energy flow into her from the sword. Ahh well now things were starting to make sense. This young whipper snapper had suddenly turned into a power drainer and sucked his demonic power out of him. No wonder he felt so weak. Oh he was still a lot more powerful than any mortal and could still go toe to toe with anyone here if he had to,well everyone except Franky when he went all holy avenger, but that was cheating.

Then he watched as the light stream flickered and died and the kid went into convulsions and pawed at the ground, kicking and screaming in agony. Oh he knew what was happening now. There were not too many beings that could handle the power of both a demon and an angel at the same time and it looked like she was not one of them. He saw a streak of white light and a green light come shooting out of her. The green hit him straight in the chest and he felt his strength return.

Stretching and flexing his muscles he clicked his neck and then looked at the kid. Powerful, very powerful but undisciplined or unsure of her powers. Either way if they were bringing this one along she would need a babysitter.