15013/A Night in the WOods
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| A Night in the WOods | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 27 May 2023 |
| Location: | Cedar Hill |
| Synopsis: | Lydia meets a demon hunter in the woods. No, this isn't a hunter *of* demons. This is a demon who is a hunter. They talk and the demon's prey interrupts much to his detriment. |
| Cast of Characters: | Lydia Dietrich, Riley Black
|
- Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Gosh darn it, it's been too long since Lydia has tried to access her vampiric powers since that fateful day last year when the angel burned her Beast from her. She hadn't really tried up until now, these powers being a painful reminder of what led up to that moment. But now it's time!
She's out in the cedar trees, hidden from view from the main paths that snake around the area, trying to pump herself up. "Okay, Lydia" she says taking a few deep knee bends with her arms out as she flexes her fingers. "You can do this. It's just like riding a bike. If a bike was supernatural powers. All you have to do is just //concentrate//."
She stops her calisthenics and closes her eyes to concentrate. The starfield that constantly surrounds her winks out and turns into black flakes of darkness as she tries to access the darkness within. She stands there for a few minutes, stock still, not even breathing as she concentrates, but nothing happens. "Damn it!"
- Riley Black has posed:
It's hard to tell when she got there, she stands so unnaturally still it's easy to miss her amongst the shadows. It's the glowing cherry of that cigerette that betrays her, followed by the sharp scent of Gitanes. That grubby french tobacco smells distinctive even in this town, all peppery and sour. A slow inhale drawing just enough light to touch upon bright yellow rain coat, and that ramshackle carbine clutched gently in her hands.
Her gaze fixed with the unmoving focus of the dead, or perhaps a doll or a Demon who can tell? It'd be easy to dismiss the shape as some sort of elaborate trick of the light, some strange distraction until her hand drops to casually ash that cigarette. "I reckon it's been a hot minute since I've run into somebody playing with black magic, in a public park."Her voice soft, almost as if it were more distant than she appears. "I could help you with that I'm sure, though not for free."
- Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia smells the demon long before she speaks up, her vampiric senses having picked up the cigarette. When accused of practicing black magic she lets out an amused snort and her eyes pop open to meet those of her visitor. "It's not black magic," she gently corrects. "It's //blood// magic. There's a difference. The other type of magic I do is kabbalistic which is //definitely// not black magic. Quite the opposite."
She turns to face Riley properly and puts her hands on her hips. "Thank you for the offer, though. I doubt I could afford to pay the price you're asking." She cants her head curiously, "Should I be worried that there's a new practitioner of the dark arts in town? My other job is to deal with people who make the magical kind of trouble."
- Riley Black has posed:
"I had to offer."She offers casually, pausing to take another slow pull of her cigarette. "They tell you it's different, but it's really the same. Give it a few hundred years and you'll come around, you haven't seen the goal posts moved far enough to stop caring where the lines are drawn."She gives a little shrug at that never the less. "In any case, I'm on the clock tonight so ya'lls gonna have to forgive me if I cut the pleasantries short."
"Randle George, tall, thin, brand new to an all liquid diet. Ring any bells?"She takes a half step forward, stance loosening somewhat and exposing just a fraction more of herself to the dim ambient glow of the park. That M4 carbine in her hands is covered with the sort of "Big nasty" signs and sigils that no dabbler would know much less be foolish enough to try and replicate. Nevermind the silver coin apparently used to plug a hole on the side of the magwell, or the golden wire stitching the crack shut. Those arent gloves on her hands either, unnaturally pale flesh fading into jet black clawtips. "There might be a reward if you can get me to him."
- Lydia Dietrich has posed:
A chuckle escapes from Lydia. "Been there, done that, had my soul forcibly cleansed by a literal angel. I really don't care to repeat the experience, if I'm being honest."
Her eyes go from the gun, to the hands and up to Riley's eyes and her tone shifts from playful to serious. Her mutation starts popping back into sight, a starfield of twinkling lights that constantly surround her, marking her as not quite human. Hell, the ivory pale skin, blood red lips, and the fact that she doesn't even //breath// is a dead enough giveaway, too.
She nods at the weapon. "Noticed you didn't answer my question. That's some serious hardware you got there. Should I be expecting trouble from you?"
She purses her lips at the question. "Don't know him offhand. I like to try to talk to newborns first before sending them to the grave a second time. Give them a chance to live ethically. Shooting somebody just for who they are doesn't sit well with me."
- Riley Black has posed:
She lifts that hand to brush back her hood, as if laying it out will add some weight to her words. The eyes are too large, too reptilian and well they -glow- in the dark like molten gold. Then of course the matter of those black horns at her brow, stark against the paper white of her skin. Yep, that's a Demon. "I've no problem with your kind dear, and not with you specifically. I have a problem with Mr.George though, a very terminal one."
She steps forward, easing into easy conversational distance as she takes another slow drag on that very French cigarette. "He has an outstanding debt, which he believes turning Vampire will stop me from collecting. Afraid to say he's also taken the opportunity to indulge in his darker appetites, and he generally not conducted himself like a gentleman. Vampire or not, I intend on turning his skull into a cereal bowl."And a pause as she lets her gaze pan the park for a moment. "Frankly I'm shocked he isn't lurking about here, he's not generally very creative."
- Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia looks unimpressed at the sight of the demon. She's seen worse. Hell, her ex-fiance //dated// a demon while she was engaged to her. The gun, though, makes her wary.
She snorts when it's mentioned that whoever this man is thought turning would void his deal with a demon. "Right. Like //that// would work." She shakes her head. "Sorry. I don't know him. I can ask around if you like, but most vampires don't look to kindly on me. I'm not..." she wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Edgelord enough for them."
"And please don't use his skull as a cereal bowl. You'll get milk all over the carpet."
- Riley Black has posed:
"I would owe you one."She lets that hang out there for a moment. "But don't put yourself in any danger, bastard's not liable to shy away from putting you in the line of fire to save his own ass. His first plan was to barter his Mother's soul, this current nonsense is just his backup plan."
She reaches under her rain coat for a moment, digging around to produce a pack of cigerettes for her to chain up a french one before extending her arm to offer one towards Lydia. "For what it's worth the whole edgy goth thing was pretty used up by the eighties, they dress like clowns who think they blend in with regular street folk. Where are they hanging out these days, I know the "Stockyard" club used to be a thing but that was more nineties right?"
- Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia nods. "Alright. I'll take a look into it," she says and then shrugs. "Danger doesn't scare me, but I'll be careful. How do I get ahold of you should I find him?"
She, then, grins when fashion is mentioned. "I don't know. I'm kind of a sucker for old school goth. Sometimes you just have to lean into the stereotype you know? Besides," she says, running a hand through the pinpoints of light that surround them, causing them to whorl and eddy in its wake, "I //sparkle.//"
- Riley Black has posed:
"So not just a glamour then, and here I thought you were wearing some sort of very fashionable Fae Magic I didn't know about."The light show certainly has her attention, even if those big snake eyes of hers are more than a little creepy in the low light. "It's a lovely look truly, though I imagine most mortals don't fully appreciate it what with the current hysterics over mutants and the like yes?"The question over contact, well that's not been lost. She's casually digging about for a card, when it happens.
Just a step or two off the path, and then slowly drawing closer. It's hard to sneak in those Doc martin lifts, or in a coat with all those buckles but he does admirably well until he steps on a twig. "Damnit"He offers lamely, before with a -pop- he attacks. Firing his tazer towards Lydia, only for the prongs to hit the ground about four feet short. Critical attack failure everyone. Then again nobody ever accused Randle of being deft, just cheap.
- Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia laughs in amusement. "No, not fae. A good first guess, though. I'm surprised more people haven't accused me of it." She shakes her head, "No, before I became undead, I was a mutant. Well. //Am// still a mutant, though my power has been through some changes." She shoots her demonic companion a grin, "I used to glow green."
She shrugs. "I'm used to anti-Mutant hysteria. I was quite the activist before all of //this// happened. I still do work out in Bushwick, though I do it all at night now, I suppose." She gets a look of pride when she says, "My Golem is still active and patrolling the area. Everybody thought he'd go berserk and go on a murder spree, but it never happened. He was the first big piece of magic I ever did."
She hears Randle long before he ever steps on a twig. Her strange golden eyes glance his way and with a simple gesture her stars coalesce into a tentacle that shoots out with surprising speed and accuracy to wrap about the hapless vampire. She just looks unimpressed when the taser misses her greatly. "Noob."
- Riley Black has posed:
Randle is, well he's tall without the boots honestly but he apparently really wanted to -loom- with that try hard getup. It's almost cool in an ironic retro way, but Randle isn't the kind of guy who pulls off irony. The tentacle does grab one arm effectively, as his free hand rescues a bottle of water from his coat "This is holy water bitch!"It's not, it's just Evian though Nestle -is- pretty evil. In anycase he pops the bottle before hurling the contents after Lydia. That constitutes in strictly technical terminology, a "Big fuckin oof my guy".
Riley wastes no time, she just swings that carbine up as she gives the safety a pair of clicks. The first three or four rounds are remarkably muted, though every single round to follow only gets louder and louder. The old oil filter screwed onto the end of her M4 erupts with a mixture of burning motor oil, cardboard and of course the fifty five grains worth of copper delivered at remarkable velocities. By the end of the magazine the suppressor has erupted into a cloud of white burning oil and steam, which would be why she simply cuts the rifle free and produces a pair of short swords from beneath that raincoat of hers.
- Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia just casually catches the bottle out of the air, her tentacle still holding Randle tight. She brings it up to her nose to sniff and shakes her head. "Not holy water," she says. "Not that that would do much to me. I mean, I guess some people think this would repel Jews but that's just a common myth."
She winces and ducks her head as the shots start firing. Even suppressed, the sound is loud to her sensitive ears and it only grows louder. "Aaah," she hisses. "This is why I don't like guns." She doesn't do much to Randle, though, other than keeping him in place. He made a deal with a demon, and she's come to collect, so she's not about to get in the way of that.
- Riley Black has posed:
"Augh hey lady look, this is all just a huge misunderstanding! Let me go!"Tugging at that tentacle ineffectively even before he's perforated, which is -remarkably- uncomfortable of course but hardly fatal. He falters enough down to one knee with a cough, thumbing off the tip of his tazer and letting it rip with an audible pop-pop-pop of open current.
Riley gives one sword an casual little flip, before slowly sinking down low and holding both of those short swords low and out infront. An usual stance to be certain, but she falls into it with a certain familiarity. "Let him Loose, nobody deserves to go down without a fighting chance."
- Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia just cocks an eyebrow at the guy. "Are you serious? You tried to tase me and bean me with a water bottle." She just shakes her head, and lets go of him, letting her tentacle dissipate into a shower of stars. "To be fair, I don't think he's got much of a fighting chance, but... as you wish."
- Riley Black has posed:
The moment he's free he turns to run, which is just as well. One step and she's on him, a thrust to the kidney followed by a single swift strike to the base of the neck that pops his head free. A momentary spray of blackened blood and viscera, before the body erupts into cinders and ash and is but charred bone by the time it hits the ground.
Riley gives a huff, turning back as she resheathes those swords out of sight. Her yellow raincoat spattered with what little gore survived the conflagration. "Everyone deserves a chance, people ought never to be slaughtered."From a Demon no less everybody. Casually she offers over a little slip of paper, before kicking her carbine up into her waiting hands. "Give me a ring some time, I owe you a little bit for holding onto him there. Until then, I'm gonna go get some icecream I think."
