Round
2
Dash tapped his humongous fingers against the cold stone
of the rooftop above the Shop, awaiting the latest reports from his
forward scouts. The fastest of the Motorhead gargoyles, they had
immediately stepped up without hesitation the moment Captain and Dash
(who had taken on the position of 'Warlord Supreme') had requested
for volunteers. Taking the day to rest and recuperate, Dash had
immediately called forth his council in order to dictate strategy,
acquire and share blueprints for each building on the entire street
(a feat made easier by Controls' free access to the planning database
for the city of Los Angeles, such access only partially of
questionable legality) and prepare to receive the final response the
Valken House dictated: should the first two groups fail, then release
the entire horde of the Assassin Corps of the House. There was no
kill like overkill, and if a target existed that was strong enough to
deter a mage-assassin in their prime then the only goal the Valken
had left was to completely eradicate that target.
Dash grinned, knowing that Jeromes' desperation had also
dictated this move as well.
Night had fallen, and with it came a darkness much more
solid than nature intended. Dash whistled, impressed by the show of
power - they had effectively cordoned off a couple of miles in all
directions, not a small feat considering the Shop's position and the
power nascent power of the Nexus Point. He hadn't thought the Valken
assassins had it in them to be this patient, taking the day to
acclimate to the incredible rush of energy.
Not that simple acclimation would do much if they
couldn't claim it. Anyone could synchronize with a form of energy,
even that energy's source. Thankfully they couldn't USE that energy
without a proper claim, and even powered down the Shop and
C.O.N.Troll was too strong for them.
He grinned. This only meant that this night there would
be blood. Blood, bone, and death. Enough fighting for everyone to
gorge themselves stuffed, especially himself.
He
cackled to himself with glee, I
can hardly wait!
The moon, full up above, shimmered and he smelled the
workings of a Greater Magic as the mage-assassins applied a two-fold
combined spell: glowing bright and viciously crimson on the surface
of the moon the crest of the Valken house baled towards the prepared
battlefield, a two-headed eagle on a black standard, the barrier
spell effectively twisting normal reality into a facsimile of a
pocket dimension. The mage-assassins, even with a full compliment of
thirteen and more, were unable to completely cut them from base
reality due to the nature of the Nexus Point itself, an ever-present
and flowing anchor, but the barrier was more than able to ensure no
citizens or bystanders would be caught in the middle of the battle.
Dagger, standing at his side, whistled before speaking
in her grating voice, "Nice. Now the normals won't wake up in
the middle of a warzone. All the damage we do'll probably be
reverted too, with this much magic pumped into the place."
Dash grinned, "Not that much though. More than
likely the Vat's'll have a field day cleaning the place up tomorrow,
ensuring the Pact is kept. You're right though, 's a pretty
complicated work, more than enough of a knock on the door. Why don't
you answer 'em in kind, Dagger?"
Dagger barked a laugh, placing one clawed foot upon the
parapet, her wings unfolding to reveal the missile launcher she had
been hiding there, "With pleasure, boyo!"
With that she set the launcher on her beefy shoulder,
her wing and powerfully-formed back muscles adjusting for her sight
as she aimed and fired towards the street at the edge of the barrier,
the resultant explosion destroying the mage-assassins making their
way towards the Shop as well as throwing the rest into disarray.
Dash threw his head back into a vicious howl, answered
by the thunderous growls of ground troops as the Motorhead mobilized,
riding either powerfully customized motorcycles or the dog-like
steeds of their ilk, holding onto the horns like ape-hanger
handlebars as they galloped on all fours.
To either side of the Shop they sped down the main
street, many weaving and dodging as the mage-assassins began to open
fire with various Combat-based spells, their own formations applying
their strategies as enhancements and defenses were cast, their own
forward troops preparing to receive the howling mass of enraged,
snarling Gargoyle-bikers.
Dagger turned, intent on joining the oncoming fray when
a strange melody caught her attention. Dash blinked, his large green
eyes questioning as she pulled out a cell phone, answering
immediately, "Yeah? What do you want, ki-"
She stopped, surprise widening her eyes as she turned to
Dash, "They're attacking the Garage! Dash, they somehow found
the entrance to the Garage, 's why the Barrier's so freakin' huge!
So they could fit the Jefferson street exit in the battlefield!
They're in a standoff, bu they won't be able to hold for much lon-"
Dash rushed past her towards the stairwell, stopping to point at her and snarl, "You and Captain take care of things here. Remember to order the Bombers out the MOMENT an air strike is called!"
His attention shifted to the garage raid, cutting off her response as he hurried down the tower stairs, going over what he knew of the situation. In their attempt to attack from the inside-out, they had accidentally given up two important points of information. First, they were receiving information that was considered secret to only a few people, those the Shop had held incredibly close. Which led to the second point.
When he got his humongous hands around the treacherous snake who sold them out, he was going to do such wonderfully horrible things to them!
Dagger turned, binoculars in hand, and growled into her
cell phone as she surveyed the battlefield, "No, NO! Sweep from
the right godammit, stop - no, I said melee only! Tell the long
range units to back the fuck off and get back here NOW!"
She blinked, recognizing an incoming number. Flipping
the cell phone in her hand for a quick moment, she snatched the cell
phone mid-air and grinned into it, "Hey, Cap. It's not goin'
bad but it's not goin' good. And you said we couldn't turn the boys
into a real army, huh?"
"Enough of that for now~!" Captain's voice
snapped at her, his distress obvious, "I'm calling in the air
strike. Give the order for hnngr!" She could hear the
exertions of his melee as he swung on an incoming Combat specialist,
the crunching of their bones and death gurgle loud even over her
phone's reception, "The bombers!!"
She laughed wickedly, stomping on the parapet's edge
with her foot, the various charms on the end of her cell phone
tinkling along with the sound of boulders scraping together,
"Alright, ALRIGHT! Consider it done, bwana," hanging up on
him, she pressed two buttons and immiately connected with the leaders
of each unit, relaying the order to all on their personal system,
"Alright gents! Get ready for the pain, rock up and rock OUT!"
Turning, her black eyes shimmered with barely-repressed joy, her voice shivering as she growled, "Bring the fuckin' rain, kids."
Turning to watch the oncoming carnage shadows blanketed
her as, overhead, nearly thirty flying gargoyles detached themselves
from within the invisible bell tower, hurtling themselves forward
with powerful strokes of their leathery, furred, and feathered wings.
The children of the gargoyle race, they all had the ability to fly
until they reached a certain age and weight - then their ability to
fly were completely determined by what type of gargoyle they were.
As members of the Sidhe, they weren't defined solely by their
physical form but more and more of them were choosing to lose their
ability to fly in order to take up the motorcycle as their favored
method of transportation.
Armed with bandoliers of grenades, the squadrons of
gargoyle children could be a fearsome sight indeed, though it was
what was currently riding on their backs and thick necks that caught
Dagger's attentions.
Grinning to herself, she chuckled aloud, "Well I'll
be! Metropolitan stain, indeed~!"
Grease Monkey loved cards. He loved few things in this
world, but cards rated as top priority to him, underneath only cars
and loyalty. He shifted the thick, foul-smelling stogie from one
side of his mouth to the other, keeping it clenched between his
pristine teeth as he gazed, golden-eyed and languid, over the two
cards he held in his hand.
"Look,
if you don't play you won't get any extra puddin', m'hijo.
Either play or fuck off with the rest of the drones."
Williams groaned into his hands again, having sets his
cards down but having also placed a chip atop of them, symbolizing
his intent to continue playing, "Mr. Monkey, how can-"
"Ees
Grrrease, m'hijo. Or Greasy. Or GM. But ees no Man-keh,"
Greasy chuckled, tapping his stogie out into an ashtray before
clenching it again between his teeth, hamming up his usual accent,
"And if you don't want to play, fuckin' cash in yer chips then,
cabróne.
You got the button and I'll freakin' kill you if this is some weird
kind of head game to psych me out. I know you ain't got pocket
rockets or the nuts hand, or you'd act like it."
Williams frowned at the Ricketts twins, both of them
suddenly incredibly engaged in the hands they were holding. While it
wasn't a betrayal of trust inexactly, that little tidbit they had
shared with Grease Monkey, all three of them taking to one another
with a strange swiftness, had already cost him several hundred
dollars since the game had started due to his inability to contain
his excitement upon getting two Aces or the strongest hand possible
for a given round. When they had first been unceremoniously dumped
into the Garage, Williams was certain they'd be subjected to more
boredom, the sting of being considered unable to protect himself and
his unit still fresh in his heart.
Then
the Ricketts twins had expressed sincere joy and love of The
Roadbuster, the customized car built by Grease Monkey and Dash to
Franks' specifications. The body was a hybrid of Aston Martin and
Mustang, the inner workings customized from a Shelby
GT 500 Super Snake origin to the current amazing specs the large
twins drooled over. The paint job was expensive, fading from a pitch
black coloration to a dark cherry red. What truly impressed them
wasn't the tungsten-carbide roll cage and chassis or the carbon-fiber
shell, but rather the Whammy Bar that had been installed at the front
of the car, a mobile battering ram given to the Shop as a gift from
the local Los Angeles Police Department.
"I'm also deeply, horribly, and maddeningly in love
with her," Control sighed softly over the P.A. system.
Grease
grunted, "I always knew that puto
was
a hoto.
Guess the gay runs deep, huh?"
"No, gender is just useless when you're a brain in
a brick," Control chuckled lightly.
Grease considered that before turning to the four young
magi, "Hey, you kids like poker?" With that he produced
table, chairs, and barked an order to the drones only to groan into
his hands, remembering they weren't able to move without the energy
regulated by the Brownies to keep them mobile daily.
Since then the four magi had come to learn a great deal
about the various games of poker, especially Texas Hold 'Em. Greasy
waxed and waned on the various stories and misdeeds of the two
Shopkeepers and how they kept hurting "his baby," The
Roadbuster through those adventures.
"Wait, wait," Magus Tourmaline adjusted her
glasses, peering closer at Greasy over the table, "Isn't The
Roadbuster Dashs' baby?"
Greasy grunted, flipping a card onto the table, "She's
got two daddies, and I'm mostly her granpapa."
"Just like me~!" Control intoned.
Greasy grunted again, throwing his cards down
disgustedly as Tourmaline raised the ante, "Yeah, she's got two
daddies, though I'm more or less either her father or her
grandfather, depending on if I have to brain that troll with one of
my wrenches. Don't think I have any issues with that, the whole two
daddies thing, though. When you've lived as long as I have, you come
to not really care about gender or sexuality anymore. 'S all skin,
mang."
As they played into the evening, Williams realized he
could forget about the war that was surely raging up above as Greasy
taught them basic techniques and quickly worked towards advanced
psychological tactics, their own minds made sharp and quick due to
the prerequisite magus training.
So it was a complete and total surprise when the shadows
trembled and sprouted mage-assassins.
For a split-second both groups stood stock-still,
staring at each other in shock when Greasy suddenly broke the still
with a bellow, hurling the table overhead at the mage-assassins and
driving them back as he stomped on a button on the ground, raising a
wall of silver to cut off the rest of the garage.
"Don't worry kids, the automatic defenses will
activate now that the system has been-" Greasy went silent and
immediately scrambled for his favorite weapon, a gigantic monkey
wrench bigger and thicker than he himself, remembering all too late
that the automatic defenses were down.
Williams' eyes widened as two mage-assassins leapt onto
the rising wall of blessed, normally enchanted silver, bracing their
backs against the roof and using hands and feet to slow the wall's
ascent. Several other magi behind them immediately began
quick-lisped chants, magic circles rising from the ground to hover
about their forms and throw multiple shadows against the concrete
walls of the Garage. Williams roared a counter-spell, realizing all
too late what they were doing: their spells activated, crackling
bands of red-streaked blue magical energy coursing through the
casters and slamming into the two on the wall, immediately
transmuting them into metal statues, jamming the wall as their feet
fused with it.
Williams groaned, realizing the futility of his reaction
as he continued to chant, stuck in mid-cast as he sought to re-divert
the energies into a new spell. Behind him the Ricketts twins finally
reacted true to form, a magical circle encircling the both of them as
they began their own spell.
Grease Monkey surged forward as Williams fell to his
knees, the color of his magic circle transforming from a vibrant
green into a darker blue as he found what he was looking for.
Something within him clicked, revved, and began to run at full bore
as he switched from his original counter-spell, a simple concussive
wave of magical energy, to a higher spell form.
Bellowing in an unrecognizable language, Greasy slammed
the flat of his humongous wrench against the wall, the Royal Impact
technique sending shockwaves of kinetic force throughout the wall.
Grinning at first, he frowned and backed up as he realized his attack
only weakened the concrete at the ceiling and floor around the wall.
Certain the mage-assassins would notice as well he slammed his wrench
into the ground, breathing hard and hot on his hands, gathering up
golden-red chi energy from within.
Several mage-assassins scaled the wall, leaping up to
grab the edge and haul themselves over, only for one to widen her
eyes and let go, dropping down and narrowly dodging a spiky sphere of
energy. Grunting, the mage-assassin found herself pinned to the
ground as it exploded, raining magically-empowered sticky shrapnel
down the length of the wall, pinning and choking her two
less-than-fortunate compatriots against the wall on the other side.
The Ricketts twins shared a grin, preparing their next combined
spell, this one without a magic circle, their hands close to each
other to allow their magical energies to mingle with practiced ease.
Thankful for the reprieve, Williams panted as he finally
unleashed his new spell, still surprised with his previous energy
shifting. Spontaneously changing a spell mid-cast was something he
had only heard of, and it nearly offended him with how easy it had
been the moment he spotted the energy patterns themselves, tweaking
and twisting them into a new spell as he had done. Biting his own
tongue, he dragged his hand through the air, his clawed fingers
rending the air with five lines of energy, before slashing his other
hand out horizontally, creating a grid. Slamming his palm into it,
he sent the new shield hurtling towards the wall, the silver
dispersing much of the energy but the hole made between the
once-living statues had been effectively plugged up by the
Incineration Web spell. Seeing what he had done, the Ricketts twins
powered their combined spell down, choosing to save their mana for
actual combat.
Williams slumped down to the floor and leaned back on
his hands, panting aloud as the elder Ricketts (at least he thought
he was the elder one) turned to him and rumbled in a low, slow voice,
"Twist?"
Williams nodded, his body beginning to feel the strain
placed upon it by the new ability he had learned. As the older twin
came over to gently pat his head, the younger one looked around,
Grease Monkey's exertions growing louder with each breath as he
continued to breathe golden-red chi energy onto his hands. The
younger Ricketts looked at him for a moment before turning back to
his brother and friend, asking in a near-whisper, "Tourmaline?"
As if summoned by her name the small woman bounced back
into the Garage proper, the office lights behind her shutting off
dutifully, "I called Sir Dash! He'll come save us, you'll
see~!"
Greasy
turned and slammed both hands into the door of The Roadbuster,
roaring with earth-shaking power as a dome of unfamiliar energy
cascaded about the car. Leaning against the dome as it solidified,
Greasy chuckled and turned to the surprised magi, "There. Those
bastardos'll
never
touch our The Roadbuster now! Rest while you can, kids, and-"
Greasy's head spun as the silver wall began to melt, the assassins on
the other side making a strange susurrus. Grease Monkey backed up in
front of the young magi, taking his giant wrench in hand with a
hearty grin, "Well, looks like THAT bought us a minute at most.
Who's ready for a rumble?"
Magus Tourmaline bit her bottom lip, her hands wringing
together as she made ready her own defensive-based spells. The
Ricketts twin drew close to one another, preparing their own
enhancements, intent on melee combat, not willing nor wanting to face
so many targets in a long range battle.
Williams slowly got to his feet, dusting off his pants, "Well. We may not have the resources of the Nexus Point to draw from, but we ARE students of the Order, and this is my unit. Far be it from me, nor the rest of us, to not put in a good showing, especially if we're to prove our worth and win an internship here at the Shop!"
Greasy blinked, turning to Williams and completely
ignoring the melting wall as the assassins, visible now, suddenly
backed up before the rush of the drones who sprang to life and rushed
towards the would-be assailants to slam into them bodily, "Wait,
what?"
"'Tis a metropolitan stain ye suffer from...and so,
apparently, do we," The Tallest, cane in hand, limped out of the
wall towards the astonished group of defenders as Brownies of the
Windswept Clan rushed hither and thither without warning, adjusting
and readjusting energy forms, reactivating drones and calling forth
the minor Fae once again.
"What the...WHAT?!" Williams blinked as the
Ricketts whooped with joy, Tourmaline sighing with a smile as the
Tallest whapped Williams' knee.
"The Shop is our home. Nae, nae one...NAE one
shall take it from us-OOF!" The Tallest began to wax vehemently
as Greasy laughed and scooped him up into a huge, one-armed bearhug,
"LAY OFF OF ME, YON LACKEY! LAYABOUT, SHIFTLESS RAGAMUFFIN!"
"HA
HA, love ya too, pequeño~!"
Greasy suddenly opened up his arm, gazing about quickly and assessing
the situation, "So you guys gonna fight with us after all, huh?"
Hirsute Tallest dusted himself off after landing with a
disgruntled grunt, pointing at the assassins even as they found
themselves enmeshed within a battle with the drones, their lethal
strikes bouncing off of the lifeless creatures who merely wobbled
before veering off to another target, causing further chaos, "We
of the Windswept Clan are loathe to be outdone by our comrades.
Should yon Motorhead claim the spoils of war, our position here would
be set further back than we could afford! The Shop is our home, and
there is nae Brownie alive who would not defend what is rightfully
theirs! We are of the Sidhe, Seelie and Unseelie alike! They shall
rue this day, those that are fortunate to survive!!"
The tiny Fae creatures turned and raised their various
makeshift weapons in unified salute, roaring a battle cry before
charging forward to attack the mage-assassins, many of whom began to
employ Alchemical countermeasures, mixing and hurling potions after
recognizing the drones for what they were: spirit-golems under the
will of the Shop, powered by the energies found here.
Williams turned and immediately ordered, "Tourmy!
Give us a Mage Shield, something that can handle kinetic force and
concussive waves! Ricketts, gimme smashes, lots of 'em!"
Turning to join the fray, the small band of defenders
gasped as a section of the wall exploded, Dash walking through the
rubble with the Troll Poles behind him still smoking. Smiling
maniacally, the troll reached to the side without looking and roared,
"Shoot the LIGHTS!"
With a flick of his finger the overhead lighting of the
Garage turned off, plunging the entire battlefield into pitch black
darkness.
Without having to be told, Williams' unit huddled
together, employing their spells towards where they last saw the
attackers. The drones, unfeeling and unthinking golems, could
withstand just about anything thrown their way before falling to the
ground, only to be revived and fixed by the Brownies. As Fae, they
were equally made of hardier stuff than most other Sidhe, making up
for their paltry individual strength by attacking en masse. Though
there were only a relative few in the Garage, they immediately made
their presence felt by attacking the feet and ankles of the larger
mage-assassins, working on the drones whenever they came across them.
And, with a bellow of maddened battlelust came the
Troll, brachiating towards the attackers, his outline shining red in
the darkness as he activated his Ki Shield.
For he, most of all, was the one trusted to survive
their magical onslaught, the entire team sure the creature could
survive a direct nuclear warhead to the face.
All was darkness for a moment, until Dash's other senses
kicked in, filling in where his eyes failed. Smell and sound created
a form of dark vision that allowed him to pick his targets aside from
the others. The Brownies, as always, smelled of earth and
freshly-cut grass; the drones smelled of crackling ozone, packed and
condensed.
The mage-assassins reeked of fear, their confidence dashed by the surprise arrival of the Shop denizens.
And so he gloried, reveling in bloodshed as he reached
the first of the Valken assassins, picking the man up by the head and
dashing his skull against the ground with a quick, sure force.
Thirty of the assassins had breached the garage.
Dash roared with wicked laughter as spells erupted
around him, and he could see the entire battlefield within those few
precious seconds.
Behind him Grease Monkey formed a living shield in front
of the younger magi behind him, protecting them from what spells were
hurled their way with his enchanted wrench. Glowing golden with the
strange, eldritch energies within him, Greasy's jaws uttered a
single, long battle cry as he batted away fireballs and redirected
bolts of energy that came their way. Behind him Tourmaline screamed,
hulking down, focusing only on getting a usable Mage Shield up in
front of them. The Ricketts, focusing only on their favored
specialty, lobbed spell after spell into the melee alongside
Williams, who knelt down and charged a spell of his own, his
incantations growing to a fevered pitch as a magic circle erupted
around him, signaling a high-powered Greater Work.
The Mage-Assassins hadn't a chance.
One fell to their knees, shivering as the Brownies
hacked and filleted at them, ignoring the brutal flames as the
assassin immolated himself with a death-triggered spell. Falling
face-first, the young man kicked once then lay still as the Fae
creatures swarmed away from the body to find a new target. Several
drones, once again under the control of Control itself, brutally
smashed into two other assassins, crushing and pressing them to death
even as they wriggled to get their hands free.
Those that didn't fall or focus on the attacks from
Williams' unit immediately fell to the brutal force of the Troll.
Almost in slow motion, as delicate as any dancer, Dash
spun and lashed out with a fist here, a foot there, felling two with
his claws alone. Feeling orbs of ice slam against his kinetic aura
at close range he spun about and wrapped his humongous hands around
the upper torso of another magi, ignoring the blows and spells
landing on his powerful back as he focused only on the sublime
feeling of murdering the assassin in his grip, his thumbs crossing to
choke and crush the life out him.
Glorious!
Lost in his battle craze, Dash hurled the corpse aside
and immediately grabbed another assassin, spinning around and
grinding their face against what was left of the melted wall, the
darkness dispelled for another blinding second as their feet hit the
Incineration Web spell that was still active overhead, turning into a
fine mist from the ankles down.
Spinning into a simple horse stance without thought he
brought his arm up into an inside-block, more sensing then seeing the
spell-empowered punch that had been thrown at him. Moving with
perfectly practiced grace, violence singing through his veins like
liquid fire, Dash moved into the man's guard, gripping the man's
elbow and slamming his own armored forearm into the man's face.
Drawing the spike at his elbow in slightly, his smile stretched the
boundaries of his face as he slammed the shortened point into the
man's ear, deafening him and drawing a bloody scream to mingle with
the rest that peppered the air.
Spinning, ducking and drawing the man's arm overhead,
Dash yanked and felt the satisfyingly tactile sensation of the mages'
shoulder wrenching from it's socket with an audible popping noise.
Crushing the man's elbow in his gigantic grip, he dipped down once
more and scooped the man's leg out from under him, rising up to his
feet and hammer-striking the man back to the ground with a downward
blow.
Dash panted as he gazed about, his senses incited by the
free-flowing blood splattering the ground, the smell of ozone and
charred earth, the sounds of broken flesh and bodies strewn about
nearly tipping him over the edge as the monster within him glutted on
the carnage, the violence.
Taking a moment and realizing that the battle was over
almost as soon as it had begun, Dash took two steps back, the fired
bolts dying down as the Ricketts twins, lost in their own battle
lust, realized the fight had ended.
Controls' voice rang clear as she stated simply, "All
targets eliminated. The Garage is clear. Please cover your eyes "
Almost as one the young magi, Grease Monkey, and Dash
all howled a battle cry, their voices mingling for a single, glorious
moment. The lights came on and almost immediately Williams unit
stumbled about and groaned, holding onto their eyes.
Grease
Monkey laughed and slapped Williams on the back hard enough to
stagger the younger man, "HAH! Ya gotta keep yer eyes closed
and adjust, cabróne!!
See whatchoo get? That's a learning experience, mang!"
Williams coughed into his fist and looked about,
frowning at the gore on the ground, "Wait, weren't there more
Brownies?"
Hirsute Tallest, cackling gleefully and dancing a jig,
looked up and nodded, "Aye, there be more of us. Above ground
we hath joined the battle~! This be just a token of our forces, the
rest be out and about doing the good work for the Shop."
Dash grinned as Grease Monkey strode towards his office, beginning the procedures that would open up the Garage once again, "Well then, let's get to it! We got a war to wrap up, and celebrations to gets ta!," turning to his co-mechanic Dash nodded, "Greasy, we got green light?"
Greasy held a finger up for a moment, both fingers
flying at his keyboard as he disengaged various systems before
closing the laptop, "That wall ees going to have to be torn out,
and the ground y ceiling is going to need to be fixed, but
everythin's A-okay, hombre!"
Dash waved them towards the exit door, stairs leading up
to the basement and first level, "Drones and Greasy, stay here!
Everyone else, git up there and do some DAMAGE!"
Snatching at Williams elbow, holding him back to allow
everyone else past, Dash leaned in and whispered into Williams ear.
His green eyes widening, Williams looked to the troll as Dash nodded
and gave a mega-thumbs up.
"Welcome to the shop, Errand Monkey. We'll induct
your unit later on, but for now you're my personal slave...uh,
intern," Dash clapped the young man on his slim shoulder, nearly
driving him to the floor as he chuckled, "You guys've earned
it!"
Still unable to fully comprehend the new world of power
he had been introduced to, Williams closed his eyes and smiled,
nodding to his new mentor as the Troll left. Taking a moment,
Williams felt the sudden shift within him as he synchronized with the
Nexus Point, the rush of ley line energy tantalizingly close,
tempting him to drink deeper.
Grinning to himself, he murmured "Later," then
turned to help Grease Monkey clean the garage up.
Dash hurtled himself up the stairs, as always ignoring
the elevator doors and secretly glad no one even noticed them when he
pointed out the stairs to them instead.
That Williams was trustworthy was proven to him beyond a
shadow of a doubt. Though he lacked fine-tuning in everyday
situations, Dash's sense of others in the middle of combat was beyond
reproach, and he knew the young man would be a good addition to the
Shop's workforce.
Besides, free slave labor is free, bro! Dash chuckled to himself as he rounded the corner sharply, striding up the stairs with a confident gait, That's what I'm gonna tell Frank! He's a tutor, and hey - I might even get in on the Order bidness m'self. HAH, a troll magicker! Ain't that an idea?
And there, right as he figured they'd be, a
mage-assassin stood in the stairwell. This one wore the customary
soft, black tunic, leggings, and shoes of their station (he noted
with a lecherous grin it was also vaguely female-shaped, nicely
thick-hipped with a middling bust), but this one also wore a mask of
silver and a black cowl. The mask was of a snarling, somewhat
masculine human, though it was hard to tell simply by how exaggerated
the snarl was.
He sniffed the air, smelling heavy magics and figured
the mask was an enchanted Artifact as well. Chuckling, he also
scented something familiar.
"Figured it was you," he grinned toothily, knowing that even an assassin as good as this one would be somewhat cowed by it, "'S why I put the little present on your person. Go ahead and check it."
The assassin slipped a hand into the hem of her tunic,
withdrawing one of the stones that Frank employed regularly in his
work. Letting it slip to the floor, she resumed her easy, relaxed
stance, watching him closely as he picked it up with a chuckle.
"Y'see, it's harder to put stuff ON a person than
it is to take it from them, especially with fingers as big as mine,"
he barked a laugh, "But when you get close to yer enemies, it
becomes easy. Well, I won't ask why - that part's obvious. Yer
REALLY brainwashed.
Reckon if I knock you around hard enough, it'll rattle that washin' out, yeh?"
Yelling a battle cry, the woman leapt at Dash, catching
him with a drop-kick directly to the chest. Sizing her up by taking
the kick directly to the chest he grunted, impressed with her
physical strength. Rubbing at his pecs under his combat vest, he
grumbled, "That hurt!" then roared and delivered his own
series of attacks, lashing at her with his rubbery-armed length, his
claws narrowly grazing her several times only to be dodged at the
last second. Sinking his fingers into the stone-and-concrete walls
to either side, he used them to keep his balance as he lifted his
legs and lashed out at her with a series of powerful, clawed kicks,
the sides of his feet and back of the heels razor-sharp due to his
armored scales.
Under pressure, the assassin blocked the kicks by moving
in closer and striking at his ankles, the ridge of her gloved hands
catching him in the fleshy parts but doing no damage, his strength
greater than what she was prepared for. Reaching into her tunic, she
gasped as he cut her action off by wrapping his legs around her head,
letting go of the wall and driving her to the ground, pinned to the
floor by his crotch.
Chuckling, he reached down and twined the edges of his
fingers around her neck, careful as he yanked her out and dragged her
against the stairs, tearing her tunic up as well as her back.
Ignoring her screams of pain (unlike Frank, he did know the
difference between a fight and a S&M session), he slammed her
against the wall and hrmphed.
"SO! We done here? We gonna do this the easy way or the even easier way? 'Cuz-"
The assassin, lightning-quick, immediately pelted him in
the face with a bag of dust. His eyes tearing up, Dash backed up and
let go of the assassin, clutching at his throat as he gagged.
"YOU...You...how....damn....it...."
Dash staggered, falling to his knees and trying to pant, his breath coming in shorter and shorter as his system shut down. He gazed up as the assassin stood over him, watching him through the darkened eyeslits of the mask as he passed out.
"Troll...bait..."
Williams
groaned, heading up the stairs to the basement level of the Shop,
intent on the prisoner cells-cum-guest
rooms, still smarting from the subtle reminder from Monkey that he
was supposed to leave the garage.
"The
hell you lookin' so happy for, cabrón?!
Didn't Dash say get back upstairs? GET THE HELL OUTTA MAH GARAGE,
YA DAYDREAMIN' HIJO
DE PUTA!
Me
cago en la madre que te parió,
QUE TE JODAN!"
What followed were even more words that Williams was
fairly certain were all cursing. Shaking his head, he put the image
out of his mind, passing by a strange smell in the stairwell before
making his way to the basement level.
Williams frowned as he headed down the long hallway
leading to the prison cells, his senses telling him something was
wrong before he spied the opened door. Frowning harder he ran back
upstairs, wanting to get this information to Dash as soon as
possible.
So it was with nothing less than absolute shock when he
came across the silver-masked assassin struggling with Dash's
unconscious bulk, trying to drag him out the door leading to the
Welcome Room only to find him too heavy the closer to the door he
got. Spotting the mask, he bit back a gasp.
Though he was only a novice magus-assassin, Williams was
more than well-read enough to spot the signs of a High Murder, one of
the leader-elite of the Valken assassins. Two days ago, he would
have stayed hidden in the shadows, unwilling to test his mettle
against one of their ilk. Armed as he was with the power of the
Nexus Point, fully synchronized with the energy source, he felt more
than willing to come to the rescue of his mentor.
"H-HEY!" Williams shouted, a spell beginning
to form around his clawed hands as he rushed towards them. Looking
around, the assassin spotted him and flicked a wrist, halting him a
foot away from their position with a swiftly-conjured Mage Shield,
one far more physical than any he had ever encountered. Even worse,
the Shield wasn't anchored to any surface but, rather, floated in
mid-air and popping right in front of him, catching him in the
midsection as his own velocity slammed him into it.
Doubling over, Williams felt one of his nails catch at
the edge of the mask as he flailed around the shield, the breath
completely knocked out of him. A small, feminine gasp came from the
High Murder as he crumpled to a heap onto the floor, her mask rolling
on the floor.
Looking up, his eyes crossing slightly, Williams reached out at her and groaned, "YOU! N-d...don't..." before passing out completely, darkness overtaking him.
****
The Generalist – Taboo 3:
Misfits and Mayhem (The Mayhem Arc)
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