12017/When Coffee Becomes More

When Coffee Becomes More
Date of Scene:	16 September 2022
Location:	Pezzini House
Synopsis:	The emergence of Digitabulum after SHIELD Agents Tom McCarthy is gravely injured. Who knew that the
Cast of Characters:	Sara Pezzini, Tom McCarthy

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Sara Pezzini has posed:
There are five places around New York that Sara will go out of the way to get coffee from. Two are in Manhattan, one in Queens, one in Bushwick and the last two are in Brooklyn. Today was the one in Manhattan, as they were offering up a rich Hawaiian Kona that they only got in once a month... and it went quick.

The location was exactly considered 'good'. The little cafe fell in between a bad neighborhood and the just okay neighborhood, which meant at times coffee could become something more, but since numerous officers sought out coffee here, most knew to avoid it.

Sitting comfortably at one of the tables by the window, Sara had ordered herself a large coffee and one of their homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. The things were huge, as big as your hand really, and while she waited she watched the people outside the cafe on the streets.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Kona coffee was good, no doubt. Tom was a fan, ever since he had gotten that care package while overseas on deployment. When he'd caught wind of a place to get that blend, he made sure he could make his way over there. He stepped into the cafe, pausing to take in a deep breath through his nose. Coffee!

He made his order, collecting up a large coffee and a big, soft cookie of his own. As he stepped away with his claimed snack, the man spotted a familiar face. Stepping closer, he offered a wave. "Hey there, Sara."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
A couple of kids playing ball have Sara's attention, so she misses Tom entering the cafe, but the minute she hears her name spoken she starts looking around for who knows her. A smile brightens her face as her eyes settle on Tom, and she waves him over while pushing the other chair at the table out with her foot.

"Tom, good to see you," she offers back. "Feel free to join, place always gets busy when it's Kona time."

Noting his coffee and the cookie, the smile turns playful, "Ahh yes, the cookie. If you don't come for the coffee, you stay for the cookies," she chuckles.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
"Need something to fill the stomach besides the coffee." He grins, sliding into the seat opposite of her. "Good to see you. When'd you hear about this place? I figure it's almost classified, how secretive people have been about it." Tom teases. "How've you been?"

Once settled, he takes a sip of his coffee - sighing as the warmth spreads over him. "Been keeping busy?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Once he's settled in, Sara makes sure her feet are out of the way. Small table, no need for large ones in a coffee place.

"I've lived in New York my entire life," she replies, acting like she's a know it all before she laughs and kills that with, "My dad told me about this place. Him and his partner used to meet here every morning."

Breaking off a piece of her cookie, she spies which kind he choose before she pops the piece in her mouth. "I have three jobs, so yes I would say that I'm keeping busy, though to be fair one of those jobs isn't an 'all the time' sort of thing," she continues. "How about you, how you doing?"

Tom McCarthy has posed:
An amused shrug. "Doing well. Been helping out with some friends needing help, keeping busy at the agency. Learning more about Genosha and mutantkind." He explains, before taking a bite of the cookie. The sweet treat is savored, the man clearly happy with his choice.

"Always on duty, I know how that goes." Tom grins. "If not with this job, then with the service. So long as the work is worth it, right?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"I've never been to Genosha," Sara comments with a soft sigh. "I've wanted to go, to offer my assistance in some way. I always felt like if I tried that, it would seem like I was grand standing, looking for attention or something, when the truth is, I just want to help. If you've got an in, introduce me, maybe then it won't seem like an Avenger looking for publicity."

She takes a sip of her coffee, no sugar or cream right now, perfect black liquid. "I consider the work worth it, Avenger, SHIELD and NYPD, all very worth it," she then adds, resting the cup back on the table. She looks like she might say something more but her head snaps to look out the window.

The children that were playing ball have stopped as a couple of older kids, teenagers, have made their way up to them. It doesn't look like much, which is why the adults passing on the street don't seem care, but for some reason this interaction has Sara's undivided attention.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Tom gives a grin. "I have an in, I can introduce you to Lorna some time." He says, chuckling just a bit. "Assuming she doesn't burn out with all the things she's trying to juggle." Another sip of his coffee. "And earnest help is always wanted. It shows when offered. Most people can spot a grandstander." A nod.

"You've got a lot on your plate too..." He says, after she lists the groups she's working with. "Don't burn out. You don't help yourself, or anyone else, if you're fried." Sage advice from a medic!

As her eyes drift to the teens, he hrms. Another sip of his coffee, studying the group.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"Not so much on my plate right now, so risk of burn out is minimal," Sara sort of mumbles, before she blinks a few times and looks back to Tom. "Perhaps we can arrange that introduction, but for the moment, I need to go check that out. Something feel off."

Leaving her coffee and cookie on the table she stands up, adjusts her jacket to ensure her side arm in the holster is covered properly, then starts to make her way toward the door.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Oh come on! Like he's going to let her go out on her own? Super-powered or not, he's always about helping and making sure folks don't go into a situation solo. Another quick sip of his coffee and he stands. The cookie is coming with him, though! A nod to one of the cafe staff. "We'll be right back."

He steps alongside Sara as she makes her way to the exit. "Gut feeling?" He guesses.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
It was early evening, people were just coming home from work, but in the summer time, in neighborhoods like this, kids ended up fending for themselves. It might not be precisely legal to leave kids home alone, but it wasn't something that got enforced unless there was trouble.

Pausing right outside the cafe, Sara offers Tom a short nod. "Gut and him," she states, tapping her right wrist as she shifts her position.

The art of 'checking something' without making it obvious was something detectives learned through years of experience. Sara learned it from her father, even though he never made detective. Hooking her arm in Tom's, as if they were a couple or something like that, she bats her lashes at him then urges him into walking toward the clustered group of kids.

Five younger kids, anywhere from ten to twelve were loitering near a small parking lot, they'd been kicking a ball around, not bothering anyone. They'd been joined for four teenagers, the oldest of them looking like he's probably eighteen already.

As the 'couple' approaches, the conversation topic can be heard.

"It's just a place ta hang," the oldest teen was saying. "Free food, got console games, better den dis rat hole, all ya gotta do is help keep da streets clean."

Seemed like an offer no one could confuse, but their body language, that's where the truth was. The three other teens were standing in positions to try and keep others from getting in to close while the eldest of them worked his magic... and that was the key, something Tom had no idea about. There was something magical about the kid.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Undercover wasn't entirely unknown to Tom. Usually it was just blending in with the local populace, though. As she links arms, he nods and follows her lead. His steps match hers, and he noshes on the cookie as they walk - not a care in the world. As he glances about, he takes in potential ambush spots, sniper nests and escape routes. It's all second nature for him, at this point.

The words sound... off. Something is not right. A look to Sara, an eyebrow arched. If he feels something weird, Lord knows what she must be feeling. "A little... weird." He murmurs, careful to not speak loud enough to alert the teens.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Once they reach a certain point, where they can hear the conversation but aren't too close, Sara stops and does this lean in thing. To anyone watching it was just a woman whispering to her boyfriend, probably something dirty or she'd just say it out loud, right?

"He's got a magical aura around him," she whispers, but her body language and facial expression match the idea of whispering something not meant for public. "He's not using magic at the moment, but he /is/ up to something."

The younger children are either smarter than they look, or perhaps their parents just warned them about strangers because they aren't buying into what this teen is selling.

"Suuuuure, that's all you're asking," one of the ten year olds girls snorts. "We don't want to be part of your cult, go away."

The oldest teen boy laughs out, "We ain't no gang, just a safe space for da kids. Away from da gangs an police an all dat crap. No harm in lookin, right?"

Listening to the conversation, Sara stays in close to Tom, even if it might make the man uncomfortable. "We need to follow that kid," she then whispers.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Tom plays the part, grinning as she whispers as if she'd said something racy. He whispers back, affixing the same amused expression and tone - sell the part. "I ... feel something off about him, yeah." His reply is easy enough - it's a weird sensation for him, after all.

His eyes dart to the older teens, hair at the back of his neck prickling up as he hears the word 'cult'. That cannot be good. "Roger that. Do we lead him or follow?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The vocal girl seems to have thrown the rest of the younger kids for a loop, but they rally behind her decision to not involve themselves in whatever it was this older kid was selling. Their heads shakes and they start waving the older teen off, preparing to leave.

"You're missin out," the older teen calls out as the younger kids start to move away, then he looks to the other teens with him and says something quietly.

One of the three nods and moves off from the group, it looks like he's just leaving but there something blank in his eyes, as if he's automaton, moving because he's been programmed to do so. He moves part of the way up the street, then shifts where he's going to follow the younger kids.

Meanwhile, the other two move back in near the older one and they look like they are just going to walk off in the opposite direction.

"Looks like the decision was made for us, we follow," she whispers, then kisses his cheek with a brow wiggle before just casually moving to follow the teens.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
His eyes are drawn to the one following the youngers, a slight crease in his brow at that. The cheek kiss was unexpected, but he does not flinch or react physically. "Follow, yep." He agrees, hooking her arm in his again and forcing a smile.

There's a bit of a chuckle from him, feigning amusement at a joke shared as they meander off in the same direction as the speaker for the older teens. Nothing unusual here!

Sara Pezzini has posed:
If the older teen was capable of sensing magic, he would have picked up on Witchblade already, so Sara was pretty confident he was clueless. That might make things worse, if he was one of those experiment with things he shouldn't, but the idea of something cult related, like the young girl implied, that could make it even worse.

She kept back half a block from the three, moving at the pace they set and pretending to window shop. Witchblade was screaming in her head of course, but she had learned long ago how to avoid letting that break her concentration. The three just walk, no talking, no looking around, just moving along the sidewalk with purpose.

After about ten minutes they head down a side road, then into an alley that leads toward the docks. The closer they get to this location, the more 'random teenagers' can be spotted sort of hanging around. Not enough to draw attention, no more than would normally be around in the summer, but they seemed to stick out now in every location they were. The real tell was the fact that when the speaker passed, their eyes would follow him, a couple even nodded toward him.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
While he wasn't fully vetted in casing a subject, or tailing them, he could follow a lead. Tom kept alongside Sara, keeping up the ruse of window-shopping rather easily. It wasn't too hard, all things considered. The real trick was keeping an eye on the teen as the followed, so they would not lose them. All without being obvious!

As they get towards the alley and the dock area, Tom cannot help but mention to his partner. "Seems like a lot of younger folks out here." His smile is still plastered to his face, for all intents and purposes it looks like he's chatting about whatever is in the window they are near. "Do you see this?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara pauses at a small shop with clothing in the window, she's not really looking at the clothing but she points to the hideous shirt on the mannequin as she says quietly, "We're on their turf for sure." then nudges him lightly and laughs. Clearly the conversation is about that ugly shirt, right?

The pause isn't long, just enough to let the group of three get a little further along, letting them have that comfort of distance and to ensure it didn't look like they were being followed. It was getting more difficult to window shop however, as they moved past the stores and into a more industrial area, but Sara kept right on chatting and walking.

"Hey, get lost!" A teenaged girl screams from a window, waving her hand madly, but she's looking at another of the teens and not Tom and Sara. "You don't belong here, go home!"

The teen she was screaming at looked up and replied, also screaming or he wouldn't be heard, "You're not my mother!"

At that moment Sara's entire body tenses beside Tom and she whispers, "Shit, they know we're following them."

Tom McCarthy has posed:
They were spotted? Tom doesn't really react, simply continues with his conversation with Sara. "How did they spot us?" He wonders, still grinning and chuckling about the shirt. Clearly, nothing to see here! "The girl was shouting at another girl? Unless it's a warning system?" He guesses.

Either way, they're in it now.

His eyes start picking out ambush points - firing vantages, anything that could constitute a more mundane danger. Never could be too sure - this is a weird thing, after all. Cultish teens - who knows what might be at their disposal. "Do we keep going?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara was assuming signaling system, why else would a random teenager start screaming at another on the street? The two continue to scream back and forth to each other about who belongs where, but more importantly than their interaction is the reaction of the other teens in the area.

Instead of being casual leaning against walls or sitting on steps, they are all now actively looking around, trying to place whom it is they are being warned about. The system isn't the greatest clearly, as it becomes obvious to Tom and Sara that they are being sought out, at least by eyes.

The three they had been following stop just outside a larger almost warehouse looking building. The two who are likely bodyguards to the speaker turn around and start walking back the way they came, but only a few feet, they too are looking.

There were other people out on the streets, walking here and there, going about their business, the teens were looking at all of them as they moved now. With no windows to shop in, Sara opts for another choice to try and throw the teens off... she wraps her arms around Tom and kisses him rather deeply, almost passionately, at least that's what it looks like to anyone observing them.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Well, that's something that happened. Tom goes with it - not truly having much of a choice to begin with. She's brought to the wall, the pair leaning against it as the kiss ends. "So... this tailing thing is not a ruse, is it?" He wonders of Sara, grinning a bit after the kiss. Another quick glance around, trying to discern if they are spotted yet.

"So where to now? I think we... need to either commit to checking this out or bail and plan for a different approach?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara would normally kiss much better, curl toes as they say, but this one was just to throw off the teens, or hopefully do so. When the kiss ends, her blue eyes are careful in where they look, getting a feel for what is happening around them but Tom's comment makes her laugh.

"You caught me," she whispers with a teasing tone. "This was all an excuse to go for a walk and kiss you."

Several of the teens have already gone back to their nothing, leaning, chatting, etc., and the two bodyguards have moved back to the speaker. Perhaps they've settled on it being a false alarm, or maybe they've decided there is no real threat, either way things appear to be returning to normal.

"I think that old closed business is where they were heading," she comments as she looks back to him. "Use to be a carpet store, went out of business about five years ago. They aren't stupid, probably have someone watching the back door as well as the front."

To continue the act of 'lovers', she reaches up and lays her hand on his shoulder, leaning in close again to continue whispering, "Two choices are what you said... commit, or retreat and plan. There's not enough to call in the NYPD, or SHIELD, so all the planning would just be you and I. We're here now, we're capable, and I have an ICER in my jacket pocket, always keep one on hand. Want to make the attempt to get in the back?"

Tom McCarthy has posed:
There's a bit of thinking, wheels and gears turning in Tom's head as he considers the situation. "I have my sidearm." The man nods after moment. "I don't suppose there's an option where we can get up on the roof to look for skylights or window access up there?" He thinks.

"And I knew it. I'm good at reading situations." He teases the woman, shaking his head. "Next time, we need to plan something before we do this. I do have a girlfriend, after all." A wry grin.

"Following your lead, Sara."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara keeps laughing at his comment as she takes his hand and starts walking away from the entire situation. There was in fact an option to get to the roof, but it would require a little bit of preplanning and the appearance they were just leaving.

"I'm willing to share," she retorts with a brow wiggle. "Of course I kid, you have to be mine, mine all mine." the last part is said in the most monotone voice she can manage while whispering, hopefully to indicate she is still joking.

At the block away mark, she slips into an alley that smells like the local restaurant hasn't had their garbage picked up in a few years. There is no one around, no one would be crazy enough to linger in this place that surely came from aroma hell.

"Hold your breath," she warns too late, maybe on purpose, but continues to all the way behind the large dumpster. What might be odd to notice is that the dumpster is in fact mostly empty, yet the scent lingers.

"You want up on the roof, I can get you up to the roof," she then says. "But that requires Witchblade, which means..." and even as she continues she is removing her jacket, her holster and then her pants. Completely naked in front of him is likely a bad idea, after all he has a girlfriend, so she will sacrifice the shirt and panties.

Once the clothing is removed, folded, stuffed into a plastic bag and hidden under the dumpster, the metal tendrils expand out from the bracelet and begin to wrap her body in the armor. The process starts by forming the gauntlet on her right hand, then expanding up her arm and around her body. It doesn't take Tom long to realize why she took the time to remove part of her clothing as what remained on her body is shredded. The entire thing from bracelet to armor takes less then a minute, with the last addition to the armor being large angel-looking metal wings on her back.

"Told you there was more to Witchblade then I could demonstrate in the Triskelion cafeteria," she says once the armor is in place. "You ready to go for a flight?"

Tom McCarthy has posed:
"Uh huh. I don't know if I am shareable." He teases back. "I'd have to sort that out." A wry grin as he follows her along. The stench is not pleasant, but not the worst thing he's encountered before. Still, he holds his sleeve up to his nose and mouth to help. "Lovely choice of locations..."

As she starts shucking her gear, then clothing, he blinks. Then there's metal tendrils - making armor? He watches, still not sure of what to make of it. "Looks... like some real organic stuff there..." He comments, after she's fully armored. "Yeah, flight. I don't have a chute, but I suspect I can tuck and roll well enough if you just drop me off on the roof."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The wings, for all their beauty, aren't really the means by which flight is achieved. They don't have to flap to gain altitude, it is all achieved through the magic that is Witchblade's nature.

"Don't worry, I won't drop you," Sara says as she wraps her arms around him securely, then the two of them literally just lift upwards into the sky. Metropolis has Superman, people have become accustomed to looking up for a chance to see him. New York however, people only look up to bitch about the weather or to see where a helicopter might be going. This allows her to get a little height and hover, getting her bearing before heading back toward the old carpet store.

"I can land on the roof if that's easier," she offers once they are in the air. "Magical flight is different then say Falcon or Ironman, both use technological propulsion. I can hover, dive, zip, zag, and stop on a dime if needed."

Tom McCarthy has posed:
This is his first flight sans technology. Tom doesn't seem too phased by it all, having been an airborne specialist. "Just get me to where it's good for you to set me." He says, looking over the rooftop, trying to acertain if there are any security measures up there. Teenagers, never know what they'll be up to.

"I never flew with anyone outside of my unit." Tom admits, ready to drop and roll if that becomes necessary. "I have to admit, this is a weird sensation. I'm not too heavy for you?" He wonders.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Hovering for a moment above the tops of the building, Sara's eyes search out any signs of movement on the roof of the old carpet store. The sun was starting to settle into the slow crawl toward dusk, casting long shadows across the streets and rooftops, but there was no sign of anyone on the roof they were headed for.

"He is a living being, the metal is his form, so I suppose organic in nature is a good way to describe it," she states, moving now to find a long shadow to follow toward the roof.

"As for carrying you," she snorts a little. "The nicest way to say this, without the New York sass, when the armor is in place I can lift tanks. Without the armor, I'd of dropped you by now."

The longest shadow deepens as it reaches the roof of the store, so she follows it right to the large pocket of darkness that the neighboring building creates. Landing as softly as a hummingbird, she sets Tom down before tilting her head slightly to listen.

Even with the sounds of the city, carried on the wind is the sound of numerous voices chanting in unison.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
He's able to recognize the value of the shadow - helping to cloak their arrival. Tom nods when she explains the strength contained by the armor. "Tanks... that would have been helpful a few times back on missions." He grins up to her, still ready to drop or be dropped. You never know.

Eyes narrow as he hears the chanting, as they land - crouching to lessen his profile on top of the building. He nods to her, not saying a word at the moment. The trusty .45 is unholstered and readied. Chanting is never good, in Tom's experience.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Once he has crouched, the wings on Sara's back fold tight up against her back and seem to shrink just a little. She crouches as well for the moment, listening to the words of the chant.

The language was old, far older than teenagers in New York should know. The demonic power that was beginning to build from the chanted words was the next thing she noticed, or rather Witchblade noticed. Inching her way slowly toward the door on the roof, she canted her head slightly before looking back to Tom and gesturing for him to move up to her location.

"Minor demon summoning," she whispered once he was close enough. "Never a good thing, but the teens seem to have been smart enough, or perhaps they were couched... but there is a ward of binding in place, Witchblade can feel it."

She paused for a moment, listening to the chanting and Witchblade at the same time before looking back to him. "Alright, this changes things. I'm going to drop down and go through the front door. My hope is that I'll be a huge distraction while you come in through the rooftop. I need you to find the summoning book their using, and destroy it. Even just shooting it will be enough to stop the summon."

Tom McCarthy has posed:
"Is there such thing as a minor demon? Aren't they all major problems?" Tom whispers to her, following her lead towards the door. "Worst case scenario, how do I slow down a demon? I shot the Red She-Hulk in the knee, point blank, and she didn't even flinch." A slight frown.

He gives another glance around, trying to see any other issues that might arise from him barging in through the roof-top door. "Should we message WAND? Just in case things go really south?" He wonders, checking all his gear - which is not much in his civvy clothes.

"Why can't a cup of coffee just be a cup of coffee?" He snickers.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"Minor demons are less powerful, but yeah still a major problem... if they get out." Sara replies with a small chuckle. "Your bullets should still hurt it, just might take more of them than with a human." This is when she offers over her service handgun. "Just in case, and I don't need it."

Another pause before she adds, "I'm part of WAND, and there's no time to wait for anyone else to get here." She shifts her weight slightly, turning toward the edge of the roof that leads to the front of the building. "Coffee never gets to be coffee, but after this, it'll be Irish whiskey in the coffee. You ready?"

Tom McCarthy has posed:
The SHIELD Agent gives a chuckle. "Yes, I know you are part of WAND. I meant in case they need to recover us. I wasn't suggesting we wait, Sara." Tom smirks, taking the second firearm. It's given a quick once-over, then tucked into his belt. No dual-weapon nonsense for him.

As she moves towards the edge, he rests a hand on the door - ready to go through once he hears the ruckus. "Shoot the book, shoot the demons. Sounds like a plan." He offers a nod of his head to her. "Good luck to you two... sounds like a big crowd in there."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
When it comes to most situations, Sara is used to working alone. That started when Witchblade became a part of her life. Before that, she was part of a team, the NYPD team, and if she did then what she was about to do, go flying into action without back up, she would have gotten her ass reprimanded and likely fired. The difference now was, Witchblade, and the truth, she had no idea who else was part of WAND. She knew how to handle this situation, and not knowing what your possible teammates are capable of in a situation like this, it was better to leave them out of it.

Swinging herself over the edge of the roof, the wings spread out from her back so she landed exactly where she intended... in between the two teens guarding the door. Direct blows to the back of their heads laid them out on the ground unconscious which allowed her to immediately proceed inside through the main doors.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Once she drops, Tom checks the door - it's unlocked, thankfully. Stepping in, he closes the door behind him. Heel-toe, heel-toe - he takes the stairs down as silently as he can manage. About halfway in, his eyes are adjusted to the dimmer light. The man takes a moment to center his breathing and pulse - ready for the likely onrush of adrenaline. Looking about, he took in his surroundings - old offices that have been converted for all manner of things.

Sleeping and living quarters abound up here, likely a crash space for those inducted into the cult. As he cautiously creeps through the hall, he clears each room. Some contain teens - clearly experiencing some sort of altered state. The drugs are clearly top-notch. Those rooms that have teens are locked shut - letting the teens zone out and remain not a threat.

As he nears the staircase down, the chanting grows louder.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
By proceed through the main door what it really meant was Sara kicking the door in to make as much noise as possible and draw as much attention her way as she could. The chanting continued, somewhere at the back of the first floor, the area that was once used as storage and where the stairs from the second floor would open into.

Above the chanting the shouts of an intruder ring out, drawing into the display area anyone not directly involved in the summoning, perhaps those who had already been indoctrinated to the cult. Male and female, teenagers all of them, dressed in street clothes and carrying whatever weapon they could get ahold of, they poured out from the storage area into the front of the shops.

"You get one chance to surrender," Sara called out as they immerged. "Most of you likely don't even know what you're doing, but put down your weapons and I won't hurt you."

There is a moment of confusion among the teens, uncertain if they should attack or not, then one voice, a female voice, calls out, "The Witchblade is nothing against our lord! Stop her from getting to the summoning!"

No other thought, no more hesitation, the teens charge as Sara like angry bulls. No skill, not combatants, they swing wildly, stab blindly, try to throw their weight into her, all in an attempt to just stop her from moving to the storage area.

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The old storage room of the carpet store is the cleanest space in the building. It is obvious that love and attention have been given to ensuring that the runes, paintings, diagrams and other decorations on the walls are perfect. The concrete floor has been covered in a myriad of different rugs, never mind that they didn't match, they were all the same thickness and that was all that seemed to matter.

A large black alter claims the space dead center of the room, with a massive bone chandelier hanging above it, the black and red candle current lit to cast dim light across the alter. On the alter lays a young boy, perhaps ten years of age. He's not tied down, no one is forcing him to stay there, he lays there staring up at the burning candles and chants right along with the rest of them.

Exactly three feet from the alter a young man in black and red robes holds in his hand a massive leather bound book, open to a specific page, and the letters on the page are glowing. From where he stands, a circle of teens forms around the alter as well, perhaps fifteen in total, each wearing plain black robes and appearing completely lost in the chanting.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
The ruckus does not go unheard by Tom, who quickly sneaks down the stairs - winding up in the storage area. The scene is quickly assessed - book, ritual leader, potential sacrifice. Got it. Not wanting to risk moving closer to the situation, the agent finds a vantage point from the stairs. The bannister is used to brace and steady his hands. It's not an easy shot after all, especially without wanting to harm the book-holder!

BANG!

Tom's aim is true, blasting a hole in the book and sending it flying from his hands. "Cease and desist!" He calls over, pistol at the ready. "Kid, if you can, get off the altar!" Who knows if he's doped up, brain-washed or hypnotized. Tom at least has to try to urge him to get out of there.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
A single bullet through the leather and parchment, that was all that was required to destroy the book. Sara had said it, and it proved to be very true. The second the bullet ripped through it the book screamed like a banshee, burst into flames and turned to dust, ending up a pile of black ash at the foot of the young man who had been holding it.

The trance chanting ended just as abruptly, leaving those in the circle confused, they even looked lost and dazed in that singular moment. Just as the one who appeared to be the leader, holding the book only moments ago, did.

The only being in that room that didn't seem lost was the ten year old boy on the alter. When the book was destroyed he screamed out, "Nooooo!" in a voice far too deep to be his own. Bolting up into a seated position he looks around the room with flaming red eyes. "How dare you human, how dare you presume you can command me! Even if I do not gain my full powers, I can easily kill you for your actions!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth, then he was darting at inhuman speeds toward Tom.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Objective met! Book destroyed! Tom's first concern was the kids, making sure they weren't hurt or in danger - and that goes out the window. A demon? In the kid? Tom needs an old priest and a young priest. If it weren't for the red eyes and deep voice, Tom might have hesitated.

Shifting to make sure he's not firing on the other teens, round after round is fired at the blazingly fast being. Some hit, most are avoided - the creature is fast, and Tom is only human.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The blood that appears from the gun shots is black as night, and when it hits the ground, sizzles and burns through the rugs. If Tom needed any more evidence regarding the boy, the appearance of black scales across his entire body, long claws on his finger tips, and a long spiked tail would like seal the deal.

Minor demon, that's what Sara had said, but even she had no idea it would hide in the body of a ten year old boy, or perhaps that was merely its disguise. Either way, the demon dodged and danced across the room, accepting some of the shots, avoiding other until it made a final leap toward Tom as is screamed, "This world will be mine!"

The claws on the demons right hand make their attempt to dig right into Tom's chest, while those on the left hand reach toward the man's back in an attempt to latch on, gain purchase for the claws on its feet to have a chance to attack as well.

"Time to die little human!" it screams, grinning savagely to reveal a mouth full of razor sharp teeth.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Well, when the thing is this close, it's hard to miss. A solid shot to the temple of the demon-boy, then another to the sternum. Right now, it appears it was for naught. With the clip empty on his standard pistol, he starts for the second one Sara had given him.

Unfortunately, the demon's claws tear into his chest - ripping through ribs, lung and piercing his aorta. Being a medic, Tom knows he's not long for this world - his arms already feel like lead. Still, he fights through it and continues to fire into the demon-child. He's not quitting.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Something was wrong.

Witchblade's attention was ripped away from the combat around him and out toward the back storage room, leaving Sara no choice but to resort to more damaging means against the teens. She was still trying not to kill any of them, but she had to make them go down and stop fighting. A few she clubbed in the head to knock them out, a couple got stabbed in their calves or knees to cause them to fall, and finally she was moving quickly toward the storage room.

It wasn't until she burst through the door into the storage room that she realized it had been two voices in her head screaming. At first the two voices were in unison, Witchblade which she knew well, and the second was Digitabulum. She didn't know how she knew his name, but was finally making himself known in a strong and clear voice.

What happened next was all too familiar to her, but not something she ever expected to witness. As her eyes fell on Tom and the demon, she knew in that moment he was mortally wounded. Witchblade could heal him, and so she went to take steps toward him and found herself rooted to the spot, the armor going rigid around her body to stop her.

"What the hel..." is all she managed to get out before she felt herself lifting her right hand upwards, the gauntlet forming a long tendril that shot out toward Tom like an arrow. At the end of the tendril was the second bracelet, held firmly in place until it reached Tom's right wrist.

As the bracelet of Digitabulum wrapped itself around the man's wrist, the healing of Tom's broken body began instantly. The tendril that had delivered the bracelet to his new wielder wrapped around the demon, pulling it off Tom, and just held it there, kicking and screaming and protesting.

Tom hears in his mind a strong, firm voice, "You will live, and we will kill that demon, heal up my friend... there is work to be done."

Tom McCarthy has posed:
That's a hell of a thing - to witness, and to be a part of. Tom's vision was tunneled as he spotted the Witchblade making her entrance. At least he could die knowing that the demon was done for - it was about the best he could take from the scenario. He'd rest easy, he thought - wondering what the next life was going to be like.

There was a jolt of energy - of power - as the braclet encircled Tom's wrist. His eyes went wide, feeling the healing coursing through his body, repairing the injuries. Those very eyes were locked on the struggling demon - the one held in place by the Witchblade. His feet now firmly beneath him, his body upright from the slumped posture of being injured - Tom rolled his neck and stretched. "We?" He says, speaking aloud to the voice in his head. He looks then to his fist, then to the demon. "Is this the Witchblade?" A shake of his head, sensing the need to hurry - this may be all some delusional vision as he's dying! Tom punches out towards the torso of the bound demon and Digitabulum sensed the need. A blade errupts from the armored hand, piercing the demon's heart.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The tendril snaps back to Witchblade's gauntlet, dropping the demon to the ground at Tom's feet as it does. Sara finally finds that she can move, the inner screaming match between herself and Witchblade having some to an end as well.

The demon never had a chance, not against one Witchblade, but most certainly not against two. As it hits the ground, heart pierced through by Digitabulum, black blood oozes out of the wound before the entire body just bursts into magical flames and turns to ash, just as the book had.

"Tom..." Sara manages to say as she takes one step toward the man. She knew what happened, she'd been through it, how was she going to explain it?

"Yes we, Thomas Jacob McCarthy," the strong voice sys in his head. "We are one now, I am Digitabulum and you are my wielder. I will always be with you."

Sara was still trying to figure out in her mind how to explain this, when the realization that it would have to wait came to her. The teens were finally starting to snap out of the spell they'd been under. "I swear Tom, I will explain what I can, but we need to deal with this first," she says as she gestures to the room.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
The blade withdraws, blending back into the armor - the talisman. Tom watches it, unconcerned over the ashing demon. He's not a problem right now - not even a little. Eyes go from that sight, to Sara and the Witchblade. Tom can only shrug, not a hundred percent certain what happened.

"I think... he's going to explain it. I hope." He mentions, tapping the bracelet. Tom glances over to the teens, cautious - they may still be a threat. "What do we do about them? What can we do?" Aside from the obvious of harming the teens, of course.

"Are there any more enemies?" He asks, both to Sara and Digitabulum.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Now that the demon is gone, and Digitabulum has settled into place, Tom can feel the magical energy that had been stored up in this place starting to seep away, like sand falling through the narrow band of an hour glass. In a few hours, there would be nothing magical left save for the natural imprint that magic left on things.

The teens that had been in the circle around the alter have snapped out of the daze and started chattering back and forth with questions like, "Where am I?" and "How did I get here?" One teen sits on the floor rocking back and forth crying into her arms, while another wanders around trying to figure out where he is.

<The danger has passed, the energy flows away now,> Digitabulum replies in Tom's mind. <Minor demons are easy to deal with, and the mark they leave heals quickly with the right medicine.>

Sara could only imagine what Digit was saying, she remembered when Witchblade first attached himself to her wrist, he started in almost immediately on explaining everything. It was overwhelming. She hoped Digit wasn't doing the same thing.

"This is where I call the NYPD Special Investigations Unit, EMTs, and my boss to ensure these kids can get home where they belong," she finally says, then the metal of her armor moves aside and her cell phone is offered out by a tendril.

<I know what you have a million questions, and I will have a million answers, but first you need know that you can think your questions to me. You don't have to speak.> Digit then says.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
<Good to know. Can you... just read my mind whenever? This could get awkward.> Tom offers his best comforting smile to the teens. His shirt may look a mess, but he's looking none the worse for wear. "Easy, easy - you're all going to be all right. We'll get help." He assures, the pistols quickly holstered. As Sara has her phone out, he nods. "There are a handful upstairs who will likely need EMTs and rehab." The man offers over.

He nods to Digit's comment about the energy dissipating from the demon. <What medicines are they needing then? I think they were under the control of that thing.>

Even so, his own hand ran over where he'd been torn into - smooth and unblemished, now. "This was not the expected outcome of my day..."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
A sight to see and remember, fully armored (not that her armor covers much), Sara stands there speaking into her cell phone. Old world meets new. She nods to Tom when he mentions the teens upstairs, relaying that information over the phone. It's only five minutes before the sirens can be heard in the distance.

An adult, someone who looks a mess but speaks with authority, the teens respond to Tom by nodding and seem to calm down. Not one could tell you what happened, how it was they ended up there. Each would relay a different last memory, with one familiar thread. An older teen, probably nineteen, speaking to them about how the world seemed unfair to teenagers, that they never got to make their own decisions, that parents were always laying down rules upon rules, and how there was another way to live.

<The touch of a demon lingers like a festering wound, but Witchblade knows what to do, and thus Sara knows what to do. There are magical elixirs and tonics that will cleanse the mark from these children, and allow their souls to be light once again.> Digit explains, the tone almost jovial. He was free. Free of that monster who created him, free of Witchblade constantly controlling him. Free to do what he was made to do, maintain the balance between light and dark in this world of humans. It never really occurred to him that in many ways he was still controlled by Witchblade because he was a /part/ of Witchblade. That was something to discover later.

<And yes, I can read your mind, your thoughts and desires, but as I can only speak to you and Witchblade, no one will ever know what you're thinking.>