Friday, 7:00 PM

As the sun begins to set on Wayminster, things start to change within the cityscape;

The numerous towering buildings that dot the Wayminster skyline begin to light up like Christmas trees and the proverbial underworld starts to grow more and more active.

For the first time in centuries, representatives (and a few hangers on) from the Strigoi, the Many Faced Hunt and The Order (The Guardians of the Dawn were invited but had yet to arrive) were meeting face to face to divide the various Districts of Wayminster amongst themselves in what many hoped would be a peaceful manner.

Additionally, the Wayminster Museum of History was holding a Banquet for their numerous donors and showing off some recently acquired artifacts from Europe.

And elsewhere in the city, a splinter pack of Werebeasts were wreaking havoc throughout Wayminster with a spree of smash and grabs.

The Meeting - Uptown Wayminster; the Drunken Boar

In the dimly lit back room of an old and moderately run-down pub, a large wooden table had been set up in front of a sizable chalkboard. As the representatives for the Strigoi, Many Faced Hunt and Order would file in they would be greeted by an elderly (at least in appearance) man◊ who would silently usher each representative and their associates to a seat at the table before wordlessly beginning to write a list of names out on the board, which were as follows:

• The Business district
• The Docks
• The commercial district
• Uptown
• The Distilleries
• The Industrial district
• Wayminster's Outskirts

Once he had finished writing, the elderly man leaned on his cane and finally spoke "Though I have had many names throughout the years, you can just call me 'Ian'. Though I am officially affiliated with The Order, Archmage Emrys has requested that I serve as something of a scribe for this little treatise and will do little more than record which territories will end up under which group's... 'Rule' I suppose, though I think the term comes off as a tad too tyrannical."

As he began to step aside to give the floor to the representatives, Ian quickly turned around and said "Oh! And one more thing! The Archmage suggested that you all try to decide on neutral meeting grounds for the future that aren't located in the back of my pub. Let me know if you need anything."

The Banquet - Wayminster Museum of History

Inside one of the temporary exhibit halls, the staff of the Wayminster Museum of National History had set up numerous Banquet tables, a small stage against the back wall of the room as well as a podium for it. Additionally, the hall was filled with numerous glass display cases containing numerous artifacts from all over Europe, each of which was flanked by a pair of security guards. While the various artifacts on display were your typical museum fare of mosaics, vases and the like, the one object that seemed to be grabbing the most attention was a saber purported to be the sword of Vlad Tepes himself.

Havoc Wreaking - Wayminster Outskirts

Outside of a recently trashed liquor store, a small horde of men and women were enjoying their ill-gotten gains over the body of the shop owner. The store itself was missing the vast majority of its front wall, which had evidently been knocked down by one of the many trucks surrounding it ramming into it a few times. As for the owner, he looked like he'd been mauled by some sort of wild animal, though anyone with an eye for such things would know he'd been killed by a werewolf. Police dispatch was busy trying to get an idea of what the situation was while members of the various underground societies that called Wayminster home were mobilizing against this new threat.

Khan Ragnar of the Many-Faced Hunt didn't like the fact that some of his own had turned their back on the Hunt and spilled innocent blood for their own entertainment and wanted them brought to justice before him immediately.

The Guardians of the Dawn were informed within minutes of the attack and would be rolling out within minutes to combat the threat.

Sergey, a Revenant of the Strigoi was joining a small cadre of his fellow Strigoi members in silencing the rogue werebeasts (and cleaning up the mess) before the authorities arrived.

And some poor idiot apprentice wizard of The Order had managed to get himself caught up in the whole mess and was being held hostage by the splinter pack.

An Internal Affair - Wayminster Outskirts

Every werebeast of the Many-Faced-Hunt knew that shedding the blood of innocents was a sometimes unavoidable consequence of their existence, even if they didn't want to accept it. However, it was a very different thing to kill them with intent and for so shallow a purpose as material wealth. As the renegade pack celebrated their slaughter and reveled in the blood-soaked money, those loyal to the Khan Ragnar Goretooth converged in the shadows outside the store. One of the first to arrive, the meticulously dressed figure of Anna van der Gekkenhuis leaned uneasily on her motor bike, observing in a vacant alley across from the ruined store front. The bastards looked far too happy for her liking.

She was the first of her pack to arrive and attacking alone would be foolish, Anna was experienced enough to know this. However, this act of violence was so brazen she feared the other factions would be eager to seize an opportunity to slay werebeasts. The werelion frowned and sighed, finally emerging from the alleyway and stalking towards the liquor store - she couldn't let them leave or, worse, another faction take them down. "Is this why you all left the Hunt? For some poor man's blood and cheap liquor?" Anna addressed the pack, arms crossed as she appraised them from the rubble. Her tone was halfway between disgusted and pitying.

edited 18th Apr '17 4:40:42 AM by Lt.BGob

Heisitation and Preperation- Waymister Outskirts

Mal peered down the scope of his rifle, crosshairs darting from werebeast to werebeast. They didn't seem to be aware of his presence- or if they were, they were too stupid to realize that a human on the roof of the grocery store across the street might be something of concern.

The hunter debated whether he should start shooting. He had no qualms about killing these monsters- they had killed an innocent man in cold blood for some cheap liquour and wine. But what really concerned him were their numbers; he could probably take down one or two before they reacted and scattered. There were almost certainly be a token fool who charged him, but drunk or not, he doubted the rest of them were stupid enough to charge a sniper with a height advantage.

His focus shifted to a newcomer. The hunter had parked RESR drone a bit away from the celebrating werebeasts- he wasn't able to catch all of her speec but enough to get the gist of it. She was a werebeast as well; Mal wondered with narrowed eyes what she had to do with this.

No matter. He'd start killing as soon as the oppritunity arose.

The Drunken Boar

An older dude in the back, dressed in a nice suit, raised his hand deliberately. He was the guy in the incongruously immaculate pickup truck parked among the corvettes and cruisers out in the parking lot: Connor Dalrymple. He was also one of the oldest werebeast in the city at an even 450, but then again he was also the kind of werebeast to be interested in this kind of debate, so maybe that made sense.

"I would like to take the floor immediately and claim The Docks for the Many-Faced Hunt." He said, and looked around for objections. "I'd like for my people to always be gainfully employed in the world of the humans and The Docks would be perfect for that."

DISTILLERIES

"You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em. Know when to walk away, know when to run. You never count your money..."

Heide took another swig of whiskey as he sat on a crate in the back alley behind a bar, whistling to the tune. He'd been in that city for years, so he was well aware that there was a meeting going on. But he didn't care. The doggies, the biters and whatever the hell-else there was rarely bothered the old man.

He shrugged his long coat as he continued to put himself in a drunken stupor,

CLEANING UP THE MESS, WAYMINSTER OUTSKIRTS

Strigoi formed a cadre to dispatch the rogue werebeasts of Many-Faced Hunt. Sebastian was eager to spill some beast blood. The "negotiations' pretty much forbade everyone from attacking each other without concrete reason. That bored Seb.

"So, they're trashing places down just for money? Did I hear that right? I thought they would be after human heart or something. Ah, well...

Time to spill some blood." Sebastian said while preparing his favorite weapon: My Favorite Cabbage.

edited 19th Apr '17 3:43:21 AM by kaalban

Wayminster Outskirts

... Where did she park again?

Roxanne walked down the street keeping an eye out for her van. It wasn't exactly hard to find, being purple and all, so how was she having such a difficult time finding it? Oh well, She thought. She'd come across it eventually.

Then Roxanne rounded a corner and came across the scene of the trashed liquor store. Before anyone could notice, Roxanne backed away quickly. Not quick enough to avoid seeing what happened though- busted front wall, people stealing things. The mauled store owner. She felt a little sick at that last one. Roxanne had passed the store a few times before and the owner had seemed nice. Nice enough that he didn't deserve.. That, at least. Then again, did anyone really deserve getting mauled by a were?

... She was getting off topic. The scene brought up a vague memory of Khan Ragnar wanting people brought to justice. Were these those people? There was a trashed liquor store and werebeasts involved.. So Roxanne was going to go with yes. Thank whatever gods were up there that she brought Uaithne this time, since it seemed she was probably going to have to fight.

She pulled the guitar out of its case and looked for an opening.

The Meeting - Uptown Wayminster; the Drunken Boar

"Clayton."

Clad in an overcoat and one of his better suits, Clayton Masterman, Order Magistrate, considered his mug of beer. Mostly empty, more foam than liquid. Though he already had his allotted two mugs for the night, he briefly considered another.

"You lazy bear, pay attention!"

A sudden hiss followed by a smacking on his thigh, courtesy of the woman he was ostensibly escorting. Clad in a neat dark blue blazer, blouse, and pencil skirt, Josie Joson looked more like a law student than a wizard. But that was her 'aesthetic', as the kids called it. Clayton frowned, looking up from his refreshment to peer at her. Only with mage sight or a set of particularly acute senses could taste the magic that suffused both him and

"What do you need me for," he rumbled back. "If all parties agreed to this, then you didn't have to bring me along. No one's trying anything funny, all cards are on the table."

She gave him a withering look. "Just pay attention, please." Then, clearing her throat, she raised her hand. "No objections to the Hunt's claim on the docks, but we would like to come to an agreement for the Commercial District. Too many interests tied there, obviously."

Things are about to get explodey: Wayminster Outskirts

Jason peered over the edge of the rooftop he was currently positioned on, an apartment or office building next to the liquor store, separated by a large parking lot. The building was five stories tall, which was good for ensuring he remained unnoticed, but he couldn't hear what was going on down there. He silently derided himself again for not bringing a listening device.

The hostage was an issue. He had no idea who— or more importantly, what— they were, and he wasn't willing to open fire when an innocent civilian was at risk. Explosives weren't too choosy about who they decided to pulp, and napalm even less so.

He ducked down again, turning to prep his other weapons that he had brought in case more violent measures were unfeasible. Always better to come over-prepared than under-prepared, after all, and he had come loaded for bear— and boar, and wolf, and whatever else these furry freaks might turn into. Pulling a large black backpack closer to him, he opened a pocket and pulled out a small jar filled with some sort of jelly that seemed to glitter in the low light.

The jar was filled with a special mixture of his own devising, purposefully designed to kill werebeasts. Silver dust, wolfsbane extract (for ironic purposes), and tetrodotoxin, mixed into petroleum jelly. Applied to a crossbow bolt, the poisons might not mean instant death, but they, along with the silver dust, would greatly debilitate any target he wasn't able to get a headshot on, even after the bolt is removed.

He selected a bolt from his quiver, one with a silver, barbed head that had a small hole bored into the shaft. Using a Q-tip, he very carefully applied the poison to the head of the bolt and filled the hole with more of the substance. He repeated this process with each bolt, a full dozen of them, each time working with exaggerated care to make sure none of the poison made contact with his skin or clothes. Once that was done, he closed the jar, making sure the lid was tight and properly secured, before putting the jar back in his bag. He then unfastened the crossbow that was strapped to the bag, unfolding the arms and checking the tension of the string. Satisfied, he primed it, loaded the bolt, then set it against the low wall that ran around the edge of the rooftop.

Peeking over again to check if any new developments had occurred, Jason cursed when he saw a woman approaching the pack of werebeasts. He had no idea who she was, and he could only hear bits and pieces of whatever she was saying. Was she a curious bystander? Some misguided do-gooder? Either way, this only complicated the situation. He grabbed his crossbow and brought it up into firing position, waiting. The moment one of them made a move for the woman, he'd put a bolt through its head. Hopefully that would cause enough confusion for the woman and the hostage to escape.

edited 19th Apr '17 9:47:22 AM by danime91

Wayminster Outskirts- Communication is Key

Mal spotted the human on the other roof through his scope almost immediately- mainly since he knew who it was. Jason Park, he believed.

He'd met the guy once or twice- they'd never been on a mission together before, though, so he doubted that the other Guardian would remember him. Hell, all Mal remembered about the guy was that he was real good with explosives.

Setting down Nyx for a moment, he grabbed the joystick he used to control his RESR drone, and maneuvered the almost-silent machine upwards. When it was just below the other human, he spoke through the jury-rigged microphone on it, one of which was also attached to the controller.

"It's me. Mal. Codename: Specter, Role: Marksman. Guardians forever. You've got covering fire if you need it. I'm going to start shooting as soon as any of them rear their ugly heads. You got a plan? Speak through the drone. Quietly. Over."

His voice was more of a hiss than anything, but actually being able to speak to a fellow human was a blessing.

He hadn't spotted the wereskunk or Sebastian yet, of course. After all, things never went THAT well for him.

edited 19th Apr '17 9:03:23 AM by Cwest5538

The Drunken Boar

In response to that proposition Connor sat up, clearly surveying the room. He stayed silent for a brief while, checking faces and outfits and stuff, then relaxed. They hadn't shown up yet.

"Hello, Connor Dalrymple, by the way, and I believe we all have interests in the commercial district, honestly," Connor piped up, again raising a hand. He looked back at the older wizard. "But here's the thing, the Guardians of the Dawn would work to actively deny us the district in our civilian lives, outside of a hunt or a feeding. I am not going to let that happen. How does a pact of neutrality sound there? An effort to work together to maintain the Commercial District as someplace we can patronize just as much as any other human by essentially blacklisting the Guardians? And, I suppose, as a punishment for their tardiness." He laughed a little at the end there.

A Volatile Situation: Wayminster Outskirts

Jason jumped almost a foot into the air at the sudden voice that addressed him, pistol halfway out of its holster before he identified the source. It was fortunate that he was maintaining trigger discipline, else he might have inadvertently shot one of the furries prematurely.

He wracked his brain to try to remember. Mal, Mal... Mal. Oh yes, the kid with the drone. He only had a vague memory of the kid, mostly he just remembered the drone, which was presently hovering before him. He had considered investing in drones of his own after that mission, but they were expensive, and he'd end up just using them as oneshot hunter-killers anyway, which would be even more expensive.

"I need ID on the girl and the hostage. Are they civilians or not?" he whispered to the drone. "I have twenty kilos of napalm incendiaries here, and I don't want to roast innocents if I can avoid it." Whether it was werebeasts or vampires, napalm was his go-to choice for explosives. It didn't matter what kind of healing factor you had, having burning gel clinging to your flesh and fur left a mark, and definitely made for a less effective combatant. "If we can't get those two out of the way, the plan is to take out the furries guarding the hostage, giving him a chance to escape. Then I'll start the fireworks."

edited 19th Apr '17 10:11:37 AM by danime91

Wayminster Outskirts- Recommendations

"Got it. Checking them now. Give me a signal if you want anyone in particular taken down before all hell breaks loose," he radioed through the drone. The human went back to spying on them through his rifle.

The lady looked less like a civilian and more like a wolf with the way she carried herself- she was pretty, alright, but not vampire pretty. Nor did she have that damn aura of smugness that vampires always carried with them. But she did look tough as nails, he'd give her that.

He focused in on the hostage. He was willing to bet that they were an Order member. The dogs wouldn't have taken one of their own captive, and a vampire would have escaped or died trying by now. And he doubted that capturing humans live was something high on their list of concerns.

"I'm willing to bet that the woman is a were... something. Can't tell what, but considering that she's speaking to them, and not getting mauled, she's probably not a vamp or human. The hostage is probably some kind of wizard, since they're still alive," he radioed over.

The human paused. "We're supposed to be attending a meeting today, damn. Let's get this over with as quickly as possible. I vote that we torch the whole damn place. As much as I don't like killing innocents, no one there looks to be a human," he pointed out. "Call me speciest or racist or something, but I ain't going to shed many tears over werewolves and wizards and whatever when we've fought against them our entire lives."

edited 19th Apr '17 10:18:04 AM by Cwest5538

Collateral Damage Be Damned: Wayminster Outskirts

Jason examined the hostage through the crossbow's scope. A wizard, was he? He didn't look very old, though looks could be very deceiving. Perhaps a recent initiate. Tough luck on him, but Jason wasn't very concerned. Either he got away or he didn't. One less traitor to provide arms for the suckers and furries. He turned his crosshairs on the woman next. Another furry, then. Probably sent by the Khan to deal with the rogue pack. What she possibly expected to do by herself against the entire pack was up for debate, though. More importantly, that meant no civilians, so he could open up on them with abandon.

A grin began to split his face with that thought, and he couldn't prevent a quiet giggle from escaping. "Hehehehehehe... ahem. Sorry about that," he apologized to the drone. "Anyway, if that's the case, I'll open up this engagement. You'll know the signal when you see it. Targeting priorities are the rogue furries. Don't bother with the newcomer or the wizard, but if you see an opportunity, take it. Once we finish up here, we can head over to that meeting. Big X hasn't said anything about not blowing the place to kingdom come, and I've been preparing some beauties just for the occasion. How copy?"

edited 19th Apr '17 11:31:20 AM by danime91

Wayminster Outskirts- On Your Signal

"Frankly, I don't think that Xavier would appreciate us blowing the meeting to shreds without any provocation, and I'm sure that they have safeguards in place to stop us from doing something like that. Not to mention, there are probably plenty of innocent werebeasts and wizards in there. The vamps... I could care less about." The human responded.

"But don't focus on the lady or the hostage. Both of them are innocent until proven guilty- I'm not going to risk my neck to save the wizard, but shooting him or the one who seems to be trying to defuse the situation isn't high on my list. But yeah, I can go for the rogues. When we're done here, we can both head over to the meeting- I can go in first and warn you if its a trap. And if I don't come out... well, then you can blow us all to hell and back. For the Order."

Mal took aim. As soon as his comrade gave whatever signal he had planned, he'd start shooting as well- he was locked and loaded with silver bullets, and he planned to aim for the chest and arms rather than the head. Getting hit with a sniper round in the head generally meant you didn't have a head anymore, but it was too big of a chance to take- shooting them in the legs would stop them from getting away, after all.

"Here's to you, buddy. You didn't deserve this shit," Mal muttered, thinking of the poor store owner. "Let's do this."

Like a Fire in the Night: Wayminster Outskirts

Jason dragged a large duffel bag over to the edge, unzipping it to reveal around a dozen football-sized plastic canisters. They looked innocuous enough, like grey coffee tins. He took one out and hefted it a few times, then looked at the pack below, looking for where they were most concentrated. He then lobbed the can in an underhanded, arcing throw, watching it sail through the air as it came down in the midst of the rogue werebeasts. As it fell he drew a small black box, lined with buttons, from his pocket.

The moment it made contact with the ground, he pressed a button, triggering an explosion that propelled hundreds of shards of silver and two pounds of volatile napalm in all directions. It was instant bedlam. Those who weren't stunned unconscious or outright killed by the blast immediately began panicking as the silver dug into their flesh and the fire clung to their skin, hair, and clothes, any attempts to put out or brush off the flames only serving to make them spread.

Jason helped things along by dropping several more bombs where he spotted any werebeasts who weren't on fire enough for his taste, before dropping back down behind the low wall and picking up his crossbow. Hopefully the sudden panic and confusion, coupled with the rapid onset of night, would prevent them from discerning his location for a while longer. He readied his crossbow and looked back at the scene, searching for a target.

edited 19th Apr '17 2:49:59 PM by danime91

Outskirts - In the thick of it

As Anna approached the horde, she would find herself slowly being surrounded by roughly two dozen of her own kind, no doubt recognizing a few of the faces amongst the crowd and noticing the clearly terrified bespectacled young man with a shotgun to his head. The first to step forth from the crowd was a hulking brute of a man◊ who went by Cain (though his real name was the much less intimidating Jeff), walked up to Anna and said "Lookit what we've got here, one of the old fart's bootlicks!" This was met with guffaws from the surrounding Horde

"You want to know why we left? It's because the old man got soft. He says we can't use our gifts unless it's against some pasty Dracula wannabes or some would-be Merlins like the little twerp we found skulking around the alleys as we did our business. Where's the fun in that?"

Looming over Anna, Cain asked "If you want us to stop, you're gonna have to make us."

Outskirts - Armata Strigoi

As the handful of Strigoi began to close in on the splinter pack of Werebeasts, finding themselves within an alleyway about a block away from the horde, Sergey◊ would draw a hand cannon of a revolver out of his coat before replying to Sebastian "We don't know why they are here, we just know that they're breaking the 'truce'" Sergey spat the word out as if it were poisonous "Now, let us put these rabid dogs down."

Moving with remarkable swiftness for a dead man, Sergey would duck out of the alleyway before lining up a shot at the nearest beast and putting a silver bullet through his skull.

Naturally this was met with outrage by the horde who promptly began firing back with a variety of small arms, Sergey himself ended up taking a fair few rounds to the chest and head while others began taking potshots at Sebastian and the other Strigoi on the scene.

Outskirts - Guardians

At roughly the same time that the gunfight began breaking out between the splinter pack and the Strigoi cadre, Jason's bombs would begin working their proverbial magic, exploding throughout the Werebeast's backline and generally causing confusion and havoc as those who didn't die from the explosion began to tear the shards of silver out of their bodies. Many of those on fire would simply shift into their beast forms out of rage before one of them finally spotted Jason. With a wordless snarl, two werewolves began to dash towards Jason's rooftop and began scaling the walls as fast as they could.

Meanwhile, Mal's shots would hit home as soon as he chose to take them, crippling several of the splinter pack and outright killing those that were on fire, though one poor sap with a burning arm would end up losing it in the process. Due to the other more pressing distractions, those werebeasts left standing would

On the ground, Cain was in panic mode, backing away from Anna, he would grab two of his compatriots (including the one holding the wizard hostage) by the arms and throw them at the werelion screaming "KILL HER ALREADY" One of the duo promptly shifted into her Werewolf form and began slashing at Anna with her claws while the other began opening fire with his shotgun.

As his goons did his dirty work for him, Cain walked over to the Apprentice who was trying his best to scramble away, but to little avail as Cain quickly scooped him up by the neck and began screaming "So did you snitch to Goretooth's chumps first or did you send out a message to your wizard buddies? I knew I should have just fuckin' killed you to begin with!" Clamping a massive hand around the Apprentice's head, Cain began to squeeze on his skull as the young wizard's bloodcurdling screams began to fill the air.

MOVING HEIDE TO THE OUTSKIRTS- THICK OF IT

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three gunshots roared into the air as an old, barrel-chested man walked into the crowd. He had a beaten up brown duster and a cowboy's hat. A tarnished star on his lapel. "Jesus almighty Jeff, fuck do you think you're doing?" He drawled, pistol aimed at the werewolf holding the mage. He also pointed his gun at Anna and everyone who held a weapon, sweeping between them with ease. "This is a catastrophe." He spat as he glared at all of them. "But open war? God damn do you folks think? R Ight in the open like this?"

He groaned. "Everyone, drop their weapons. Jeff, drop the boy."

edited 19th Apr '17 5:17:36 PM by TroyandHawk

Best Laid Plans - Wayminster Outskirts

Anna allowed the traitorous werewolves to surround her, not that there was much she could do to stop them aside from a few piercing, disappointed looks at the few she knew. For a moment, as 'Cain' approached her in a manner that was apparently intended to be intimidating, she thought she heard laughter from somewhere nearby. Perhaps the pack had found their way there at last. The werelion smirked and cocked her head as she listened to the rebellious werebeast spat out his diatribe, unphased - she was perhaps not physically as intimidating as Cain, but she made up for it with an aura of ferocity and intent.

"Soft? Pah!" Anna scoffed, taking a step towards Cain and staring into his eyes, "You think going rabid, slaughtering some poor man like deranged animals is hard? You're like children pulling the legs off a spider..." Unfortunately, the pack wasn't there yet and it was soon clear she wasn't the only one surrounded. One of the horde collapsed near her, a silver bullet in his skull and the werebeasts responding with further violence. Anna swore profusely in her native tongue, about to exploit the undead ambush when she spotted a suspicious object falling into the crowd, "Kut!" She shielded her eyes from the blast, lucky that no shards reached as far as her or the Order-aligned hostage but not so lucky that she didn't have to deal with two angry werebeasts, "Ga naar je moer!" Anna growled, deftly dodging the werewolf's strikes and rolling away from the shotgun's line of fire.

Anna briefly lamented wearing her good jeans to this altercation as she transformed, werelion form roaring and dodging past the pair of assailants. Now transformed, she didn't retain enough control to care for the gunshots and the command to stop from Heide. The werelion charged and tackled Cain as he tried to crush the apprentice's skull, her famous jaws attempting to clamp down on the traitor's neck so as to force him to release the man.

edited 19th Apr '17 7:08:44 PM by Lt.BGob

OUTSKIRTS

"Shit." Heide swore before raising his pistols again, taking aim at the others. "No one join them." He gestured at the wrestling werebeats. "I am not going to turn this into a fucking bloodbath. Is that clear?" He made sure that the hunters caught that. "Is that understood?"

Heide did not trust something this large scale to not break the masquerade. "Everyone, this is a fucking catastrophe and we all need to calm the hell down. Am I clear?" He bellowed, his voice carrying across the battlefield.

edited 19th Apr '17 6:38:57 PM by TroyandHawk

OUTSKRITS, GUNFIGHT:

Bullets sprayed, and poor Seb did not know where to go. He drew out Fascism and Communism. "Hey, doggies! If you're going to rob someone, at least do it with style!" Seb was in a different position from other Strigois, so he only drew their attention to him. However, after realizing that the vampire was not doign anything, they stopped shooting, presuming that one was dead. "Alright, Fascism and Communism. Let's go hunting." Then, he saw a small rock. "Ah, yes..."

Seb planned on using it as a distraction. First, he changed his position without anyone noticing. The albino threw the rock towards the horde. One of the rogue werebeasts was hit by it in the head. Distracted, he was shot in the head by a blood bullet.

edited 19th Apr '17 7:01:44 PM by kaalban

The Meeting

Eliza Crescent was annoyed. She had been hired to guard this meeting for the Strigoi envoy, but alas, it seems her employers were...less than punctual.

For someone like Eliza, it seemed...well, unprofessional. And surely, they didn't expect her to negotiate for them, right? That would be stupid. Eliza was not a talker, they'd crash and burn.

So as to soothe her frayed nerves, Eliza decided to do her other job. Sure, it would be a little awkward, acting as a maid in her suit, with her guns and sword on her, but well, if it gave her something to do.

Eliza made her way to the table and set a cup of tea in front of everyone, giving each person a polite bow.

It wasn't her best brew, but it should still be drinkable.

Next, she took the snacks (biscuits) that she had been keeping in her car and offered them to everyone.

Finally, with one last bow, she stood off to the side.

Wayminster Outskirts- Covering Fire? More like Fire Fire

And suddenly there were vampires and a gun-wielding cowboy and things were exploding.

He guessed that was the signal- Jason had been right, that would have been impossible to miss.

Taking aim, Mal fired. A head exploded. Mal fired again.Someone went down. He kept on shooting, noting that his shots seemed to be more effective against those on fire.

Thankfully, none of them seemed to have noticed him yet- that would change soon, he was sure, but for now, he had better take advantage of that.

His eyes drifted over to the werewolves clambering towards Jason. His rifle swiveled, and he fired. One of them dropped to his death with a silver bullet in the back, but the other was too fast for him to hit. Damn.

"Got one of them! You've got another coming up!" The hunter hollered into his mic, before turning his gun back towards what was basically pure carnage.The most pressing issue seemed to be the rogue with the hostage- if he could land a shot and holy hell was that a freaking werelion?

Taking aim, Mal lined up a shot at Cain. But with Anna attacking him, Cain trying to kill his hostage, and everything else happening, he couldn't tell whether he'd get a clear shot off.

Well, screw it.

"For the Guardians!" He fired.

OUTSKIRTS, AMONG THE CHAOS:

Sebastian, after killing one werewolf, heard the cry "For the Guardians!"

"Holy fruit baskets! What the heck was that? Ah... The one that kept killing the beasts him was him? Hm, quite a good job."

Meanwhile, he saw a werelion taking on quite a handful of werebeasts. "Ho... Maybe I can help her? I mean, getting on good sides with potential allies doesn't hurt... right?" Seb chuckled. The albino approached the werebeasts slowly in the back. Then, he took out his favorite kukris and stabbed one of them in the back, tearing the poor beasts' flesh like a predator. Then, the vampire stabbed the bastard on the head to be sure. "Ah, the taste of flesh... I haven't tried that in the longest time...

...Especially wolves'"

The Meeting

Vanessa sat up straighter in her chair. "May I move for a similar treaty to the proposed one for Commercial district to be struck for Downtown? We all may not have as many vested interests in the area but there are more than a few member of each community that have either their place of employ or their current residence in the area. Myself included, and I would appreciate the assurance that I will not be bothered for simply living in an area where someone else has dominion."