Havelock Vetinari

Well thought-out, well put together and it has a 78% probability of being fun. Approved x4.

IC (Legionnaires) The lead legionnaire nodded her thanks. "Thank you m'am. It is much appreciated." She choose to ignore the students. She had five children of her own and at the least, the mutant students seemed unlikely to pull her hair for what amounted to easy giggles. OOC: Much belated response to Tyler is Love.

IC (Remus) Remus couldn't stop herself from blinking. This, if she was reading the cues and body language right, was their leader and fine singing voice aside, he hadn't offered much of a plan beyond a title and reducing the donut population of the building by a small amount. Remus settled for tilting her head. Again. When one was a wolf and wished to keep their cover, one had limited options. IC (Alecto) Alecto shifted uneasily, moving weight from one foot to the other. "So I'd really like to get out of here as soon as possible. Y'know, I worked hard to get my hair looking this good. And the lighting in here is just ." Plus it he never liked sticking around the room after a ritual. Gave him the creeps and possibly maybe some nightmares. He paused for a moment. Tilting his head. "And you're kinda in front of the door there champ."

IC (Lucia) Lucia, still plainly trying to come to terms with the situation, stumbled through her next sentence. "He....is....forgiven?" The sorceress wasn't certain if she was awed by the boy's naivete, disgusted by his request or if she should simply buy Alistair something nice. Having to travel with someone who had that sort of....regard...for dangerous types of magic must have been taxing. Gifts, if the commercials had not lied to her, were good at treating emotional problems. In this day and age at least. It made little sense to her. IC (Remus) Remus, determined to not be taken aback by....being patted....(who patted a wolf anyway? Or wolfhound. The fact she'd wanted to be mistaken for something less threatening then a wolf was not relevant. Or so she insisted.) simply cocked her head to the side and did her best to look like a confused dog. The assault upon her dignity could be forgiven considering what the girl had done for her. If her brother somehow got a hold of this, she would simply have to destroy the tapes, the pictures and possibly hamstring the photographer. Measured responses were key to this sort of thing.

IC (Lucia) Lucia blinked once. Twice. "I...who asks that? You nearly killed all of us with it and now,...you want to keep it? I..." Lucia was aware that the standards of polite conduct had changed in this time. She was also aware that by any time's standards the request was utterly insane. A small part of her couldn't shake the feeling she was missing something, but the rest of her was trying to get a grip on the illogical request. And failing. IC (Remus) Without so much as a growl, bark or any other of the limited vocalizations she could make in this form, trotted to the girl's side, doing her level best to keep low and out of the path of any other bullets that may decide to fly. Her hide was tough, yes, but all the tough hide and life experience in the world did remarkably little to stop a bullet.

IC (Legionnaires) The lead Legionnaire clicked her heels together and mustered a quick salute, more out of reflex then any need for it. "Greetings m'am. We're hear on behalf of our employer. We come bearing a gift...." She gestured at the elderly Libyan man's case. "For one of your students. A Mr. Green I believe. Our employer feels the meeting happened in less then ideal circumstances and wishes to make amends. He also hopes this gift will prevent such circumstances from arising again."

IC (Outside Xavier Institute) A nondescript black car, like a million other cars really, pulled up in front of the Institute's lawn. Without a word, four figures emerged from the car, one was an elderly man, barely able to handle the heavy wooden case he held and swaddled in a old, white jalabiyyah. The other figures, clad in black trench-coats, red under shirts and dress pants to match their coats, closed into a triangle around the the older man. This man, having made a long journey, scarcely believed it was over. "This...is where...?" The broken, heavily accented English trailed off as his recently learned vocabulary failed him and quit the field in disgrace. One of the legionnaires beside him nodded. "Yes. This is where he is." For a moment the legionnaire hesitated, watching the old man struggle with his cargo. "We could carry that for yo-" "Non." The man waved the offer off. "I will....bear this." Slowly, ever-so slowly, the group made their way to the door. The second legionnaire, fresh from their Chinese operations, knocked upon the door thrice. Silently, she waited for an answer. And went over their mission, just in case she'd forgotten something. They were to deliver a sword, finely crafted, to one Dallas Green. As an apology for what he had endured after being kidnapped by.....what had been the Imperator's exact words again? The most inept spy in the sordid, sad history of inept spies? Something like that. OOC: As discussed, Tyler.

IC (Leon) "Where I smelled-" Leon cut off his incoming indignant tirade. It'd get him nothing except possibly another 'story'. "Let's just say yes." Leon took a few precious, stolen moments to massage his temples and attempt to ward off the incoming migraine. "So. From the...stories..." Leon paused to apologize mentally to every other story written or said for the grievous insult, "Your sister resented you for not blindly following her every whim and letting her literally, suck the social life right outta you? Is that about right?" Leon shook his head. "So uh. Why did you jump out of a window and leave me to face an angry Chilean general and his bodyguards to see her again?" "Couldn't just steal a blood pendant and keep it, could I? Jeez." "We had a contract!" "Birthdays are a contract all their own." "And it was a claw! Not a pendant! He didn't care about the blood pendant! At all! He was just saying so when you jumped out the window!"

IC (Remus) Remus felt someone picking her up, felt a vest (Kevlar?) pressed against her chest and shortly after, as water cascaded over her abused eyes, she realized she'd just made a new friend, or more realistically, acquired a new debt. The immortal revolution blinked as the pain receded to tolerable levels, and her vision started to clear. Now....police outside, people just beyond the kitchen...she really couldn't take the risk of being identified at this point, yet she had no desire to leave whoever had aided her to their fate, whatever it might be. She had their scent at least, but if they left, they'd still be albeit impossible to find. For a normal person, this'd be something of a quandary, a catch-22 as it were. A normal person could not become a rather large, white wolf however. Unless everyone on the planet was an insanely good actor at least. Moments later, a wolf or, perhaps, to the civilian eye, a tame wolf hound, if the the air freshener hung around it's neck (pinefresh!) was any indication, trotted out of the kitchen, nostrils flaring as it caught what seemed to be an interesting scent.

These don't even feel like the characters they're supposed to be at all. Honestly, if you're going to try something like this, talking to the people who wrote the characters is a good first step, otherwise you might end up with a shallow, lifeless shell of a character. You also seem to veer into justifying the morality of your characters-as they've gotten called out for murderous actions in the RPG's quite a bit, it comes off as a bit petty. I'm sure that isn't the intent of course.

IC (Remus) And she couldn't see. He was gone though a window, it sounded like, and she couldn't see. No use in trying to fight him on ground she hadn't seen. She'd just flail around and...possibly get killed. The pain was getting worse too, come to think of it. Remus grimaced as she realized that. Ah. Adrenaline, a friend for the needy, but one far too quick to abandon those it aided. Remus, feeling her way back with palm and memory, attempted to find her way back into cover. This was not a good day. Not at all. Goodness, she needed water, the revolutionary realized. She'd seen a sink. It was just a matter of finding it....

IC (Remus) Remus was no stranger to pain. She'd been stabbed through with spears, had arrowheads pulled from her shoulder without the benefits of this era's medicine, been shot at with muskets...if there was a weapon, she'd been hit or skimmed by it, at some point. It was luck, truly, that'd seen her live for the thousands of years she'd seen. The pepper spray was, whilst blinding and utter *pain* for her enhanced sense of smell....not exactly something that could stop her dead. She lashed out at the ringleader, fists flying, she knew his position, she knew where he could move. And she still had her sense of hearing. And he wouldn't be expecting an attack. Fists to the midsection, legsweep and...maybe kick him a bit while he was down. Just a little. She'd make this hurt just a little bit more then she had too come to think of it.

IC (Remus) Enough. Of. This. Remus moved forwards, out of her cover, and began to creep up behind the ignoramus who'd started this entire mess. A chokehold would be sufficient to knock him out. Cut off the oxygen, cut off the thought process and cut off this entire train of merry madness. That was a plan she could truly believe in, at this moment in time. In a few moments, she was behind him... Now. Remus rose behind the ringleader, attempting to snap her arms around his neck and end this entire parade of insanity.

IC (Remus) Remus, as the be-masked conner evidently became a human-sized electric battery, pulled back mid-tackle. She was not going to die in a random shoot out at a Dunkin Donuets when she'd lived for so long. No. She really would not. The sound of sirens, jackboots upon the pavement and shouted orders, as well as a lovely festival of blue and red lights heralded the arrival of the local police. Wasn't....that...lovely. Remus ducked back down, hiding behind the counter once again. First, take stock of the situation, second, find a vulnerable target, rinse and repeat until crisis ended. Third, find bathroom. Transform into wolf. Get out of this madhouse. It was, all in all, a solid plan. Pity she'd lost track of her list though.

IC (Remus) Remus, having, fortunately, it seemed, escaped the attention of the rabid comic fans, tackled the thug who'd have the bright idea of taking a hostage near her. She came from the side, away from where he had pointed his gun. By all rights, it'd be over quickly. A simple tackle, followed by breaking his weapon-arm and a knockout blow. Simplicity itself really.

IC (Remus) Remus, very calmly, adjusted her stance, and caught one of the masked comic-conners (was that what they called themselves?) in the chest with a classic right hook. She followed this up with a sweeping kick, knocking him off his feet. As bullets began to fly, and the would-be gunman crumbled to the floor, she jumped behind the serving counter. Best not to be in the open when bullets flew, after all. Moving behind this newly acquired cover, she began to creep up on what seemed to be the lead murderous comic-conner (she was calling them that, they'd lost the consideration of proper names when they'd opened fire) a simple chokehold and she'd have a hostage and leverage.

IC (Remus) Remus, wearing her standard "civilian" guise, I.E leather jacket, undershirt and jeans, stared down at her drink thoughtfully, face blank. The eternal revolutionary had taken to lists during her long lifetime. They were useful. They kept things neat, orderly and efficient and what revolution did need a solid system of organization behind it? They had other uses of course, for example, keeping her from going insane as more and more chaos piled up in the, until recently, quite calm monument to the follies of the american system. She'd lost the undercover stooge who'd been reconnoitering the brotherhood for one of the alphabet agencies around the time someone decided to publicly brag about murder (he was probably in a nice black van somewhere, phoning up his little gun toting black site buddies over that come to think of it) and now someone was rambling on about Myspaces and superheroes. Who actually used that word? Who in their right mind used that word? And what, in all the ###### to ever be, was a comic con convention doing here? It was the only explanation she could up with for the masks. The only one that didn't make her feel like an idiot for even considering it at least. As a rule, Remus was against the consumption of alcoholic beverages. They dulled the senses and made one vulnerable. She looked at her apple cider longingly. She was really considering rescinding that policy. There was a gas station just down the road. It would just be a small trip.... And by Hades if someone hadn't just pulled a gun. Remus sprang up from her table and slowly, made her way towards the door.

IC (Leon) "You're going to hit me over the head with a brick and drag me there anyway if I refuse. I just know it." Leon, clearly, had began to learn just how this game was played. "If this goes wrong I get to choose where we eat tonight. I'm getting sick of subway." A man could only live off subway for so long before he started to forget what a burger tasted like and Leon refused to become that man. IC (Romulus) Romulus waved a hand idly in the legionnaire's direction. "Contact our friends in the police department. Recent crashes or strange occurrences on the routes too any of those eateries. If they cannot provide the information we need, send out a few squads." Knowing this city there'd be a dozen inexplicable events and twenty crashes to check out before they hit paydirt.

IC (Leon) "....." Leon blinked a few times, and twitched, oddly, around his mouth. Clearly, the poor man was wondering what new breed of exciting and limb-endangering madness he was going to get dragged into now. "We're....not going to investigate right? We didn't investigate the teen angst and really of the two which is more deadly to sanity?" IC (Romulus) "I would not be so certain of that, Thistledown seems fond of you." Romulus nodded at one of the nearby legionnaires. "Regardless, I'm sending out search parties. Do you know where he was last located?"

IC (Alecto) Even as the chant, seeming to have taken on a queer life of it's own, continued on in it's strange and alien tongue, an English phrase passed through Alecto's lips, somehow the soft, low tone made itself heard about the alien chant. "Through the gate with a silver key...." Something in the endless, utterly black darkness that now held the walls, if indeed the walls still existed, in it's thrall seemed to hear this. The room, without moving, seemed to shift, to plunge ever deeper into the darkness and towards whatever powerful, perverse madness lurked within. Entire fields of stars seemed to pass by at speeds that boggled imagination, with vast, empty voids making up the space betwixt them. In the time it took to blink, this vision and sensation of an endless speedy fall seemed to consume the room and, as quickly as it began, cease. The candles flickered, and nearly sputtered out completely even as the shadows began to recede, revealing untouched stone underneath. Then the pounding started. As if an army was bashing upon the walls, seeking entry. Even the chant, still ever-present, was overpowered by this chorus of strange roars and ceaseless impacts.The black flames climbed ever higher, stretching up until it seemed they would grow to touch the ceiling. The shadows, still retreating, took on different shapes, of reveling, celebrating beast-men, some bearing the heads of jackals, others of cats, crocodiles and other beasts, many unknown to mankind. Arms stretching oddly in the dim light of the candles, the dancers seemed to grow in numbers and strength even as the shadows retreated yet further, leaving no trace upon the now worryingly well-lit walls. Then, from the flames, something emerged. The shadowy revelers began to stand, to rise, from the pitch-black fires. One seemed to stand taller then the rest, and it began to approach the staff, only it's general shape determinable, for the rest of it's features were simply pure shadow. It was a crocodile headed man, if eyes could be trusted in this place, bearing the headdress of some sort of strange priest. Then, as it passed Alecto and placed both of it's hands upon the staff. It spoke, in some long-dead tongue that, nevertheless, made itself understandable, if not precisely comprehensible to the ears of all who heard. "Ia! Ia! Umr at-Tawil! Ia! Ia! Sebek! Ia! Ia! Sochet! Ia! Ia! Klul mesheht rah nii Sobek!" Without quite realizing it, all in the room intoned, nay, shouted these words as the creature of shadow spoke them. A series of visions cascaded across the room, of an empty vast desert, of ancient rituals performed at the foot of the Sphinx, of swarms of crocodiles seething through a river, tearing apart war galleys and finally of the face of that august Sphinx falling away, revealing a screaming, infinite void full of nothing but darkness and swirling galaxies. Then the creature holding the staff seemed to seep into, to become one with it. In the space of a second, the dark flames withered and died, leaving naught but curious ash in their wake. The shadows too, faded from existence, leaving nothing but mundane darkness in their wake. The room returned to normal. Whatever had transpired-be it mere visions or something far more terrible-had ended. Alecto, now pale, and, uncharacteristically, fearful, stepped forwards and carefully lifted the staff from it's resting place. "I....don't say I didn't warn you." The intricate carvings and runes upon the floor appears to have been burned out of existence, with only ash and blasted stone attesting to their existence at all. Slowly, the bat-winged mercenary made his way through the destroyed circle and to Damian. Without a word he held out the staff to Damian.

IC (Alecto) Before long, Alecto, bearing Damian's staff, ushered the aforementioned student into a bare, windowless chamber, lit by a circle of candles, with no other light sources apparent. "Just...stay at the edge of the room. You really don't want to disrupt the candles or...." Alecto gesture at the floor and it soon became evident that, carved within the stone floor of the chamber was a series of exceptionally intricate circles, each narrow carving that made them up filled with what appeared to be a variety of dark liquids, crushed herbs and, at times, what almost appeared to black fire, burning, but giving off no heat. "...the runes. The powers that I call upon are not to be treated lightly. It's a good way to die." Alecto however, strode forth, deftly avoiding the carvings and candles with the ease of long practice and more then a little fear. As he neared the center of the runes and candle-stick circles, the shadows on the walls, already distorted and deep by the feeble light of the candles, almost appeared to twitch...to dance. As Alecto reached the center, and stuck the staff into a hole bored into the flooring, suddenly, all seemed silent and still. The shadows ceased to move, the candle's flickering flames appeared to freeze in mid-motion, and even the smallest sound appeared to vanish. Then Alecto began to chant, in a low, husky voice. The tongue was unknown to most mortal ears, and one could almost feel his vocal chords struggle to wrap themselves around the clearly alien chant. "Azaum selvisk azaum metioruek...." The chant continued, almost seeming to take on a life of it's own. For even as Alecto continued on and the words, if the strange constructs that he uttered could be called such, changed, echo's of the other parts of the chant seemed to dance in the air, echoing on long after they should have faded into nothing. Then the images did come, in quick flashes and in such a way that one could not be sure if they had truly seen anything. Blasted ruins and wastelands with a starless staring sky above them, blasted by gale-force winds thick with flurries of grey sand. Hideous undead parodies of man and beast marshaling before them, calling to unknown gods....and then a sky filled with stars that seemed to squirm and twist in entirely unnatural ways replaced this vision, almost too quickly for any details to be made out, these strange stars looked over a landscape bathed in the colors unknown to man, filled with great, reaching towers of basalt and grand green statues of some sort of unnatural lizard-beast. Then this scene too, vanished The chant hung in the air, still persistent beyond the right of any spoken word. The shadows of the room almost seemed to be alive, grasping, reaching and clinging to parts of the wall that they had not touched before. At times one might imagine they saw a thousand thousand pinpricks of light within them, but not soon after, it would seem as if they were an empty void of darkness that seemed, or indeed, did go on forever. The carvings, and the strange mixtures they contained had changed as well. No longer did one have to suppose they contained a mysterious and quite unnatural black flame. For it had expanded and seemed to burn wherever the mixture had existed. The candles struggled to maintain their flames, as if blown by some wicked and wild windstorm. The ritual went on. It would seem it was, as yet, far from over.

IC (Alecto) Alecto raised an eyebrow. "If you were bothering me, why on earth would I have opened the door instead of calling Watchbeast? Don't worry about it." Alecto paused for a moment, clearly collecting is thoughts. "So you know what this'll entail right? The tricks up my sleeve aren't exactly the nice and clean fireballs and lightning bolts some folks swear by-and I'd rather shoot myself then pull a rabbit out of a ###### hat. There's a price to be paid for these rituals...so uh, don't be alarmed if I open a vein or something. Or if you hear whispering at the edge of perception. If this doesn't give your staff some extra juice, I'm not sure what will."

IC (Alecto) "I didn't tell you? Huh. Well. Alecto Kava, professional mercenary, medic, gun for hire, bodyguard and occasional secretary at your service. A pleasure." Alecto give a quick, lop-sided grin. "I'd shake your hand but I've already moved around too much for Sanguine's tastes and I'll prefer if he didn't feel the need to work for his meal. Don't quite feel like going out to get more bandages today."

IC (Alecto) "I do just so happen to have the time today." Alecto shrugged extravagantly, taking care not to disturb Sanguine as he did so. "Nervous huh? Can't say I blame you. It's a risky business after all. Not to worry though, if something goes wrong you'll probably have time to run. Probably. If we're lucky." Alecto tilted his head slightly, as he considered Damian's first question. "Yeah. Comes with the life style sadly."

IC (Alecto) "If someone doesn't then I have some very understanding enemies." The vampire bat perched on Alecto's arm, having opened a small cut, calmly supped as the conversation went on, barely reaction to Alecto turned a chair over from the table and sitting down. The bat-bewinged merc l leaned forward, elbows folded atop the chair. "So. What do you want? If it's about the ritual, I've got what I need. I'd need to finish feeding Sanguine here first, but that won't take long."